Tag: a quiet place

Silent Place


Silent Place (2020)
★ / ★★★★

If your film is going to be a blatant rip-off of John Krasinski’s “A Quiet Place,” you’d better have good ideas and a strong execution to back it up. “Silent Place,” written and directed by Scott Jeffrey, is unable to step outside of its inspiration’s shadow and so every minute feels like a drag, a cheap imitation, a wasted opportunity to take already existing ideas and push them to the next level or branch off them to make this particular story worth telling. The picture runs for about eighty minutes, but it feels twice as long.

Especially problematic are its moments of action. No, not sequences where our protagonists find themselves running desperately from a gray, rubbery-looking humanoid creature with sharp teeth but no eyes. I refer to moments when a person must get from one place to another, almost tiptoeing, while keeping noise to a minimum since the antagonist is especially sensitive to sound. These moments are filled with dead air—funny because the score is almost always booming. It feels the need to always push us to feel a certain way instead of relying on its images and circumstances to get our hearts to beat a little faster.

“A Quiet Place” does right what this movie does dead wrong. For instance, instead of the camera always focusing on the face, there are tension-filled moments when we are looking at the characters’ legs and feet. Since we might have an idea as to where or what they are about to step into (a toy that may alarm, a rope that triggers a trap that creates noise, and the like), suspense is created from seemingly simple movements. We hold our breaths due to anticipation. Here, we always focus on facial expressions—redundant because we already know the hunted are terrified. Changing the strategy from time to time goes a long way. Jeffrey’s film appears to be stuck with its usual bag of tricks. It gets real tiresome.

The plot involves a family of four (Ryan Davis, Stephanie Lodge, Georgina Jane, Jake Watkins) visiting the country because the mother’s father is sent to the hospital once again due to heart problems. Rita fears for her aging father’s decreasing quality of life and so she wishes to be there for her lonely mother who pretends to be strong in the face of uncertainty (Helen Minassian). I enjoyed the scenes in which the visiting family find themselves stuck in a rural community that is somehow seemingly abandoned. It is eerie that in the middle of the day, the picturesque town is dead silent. Not even birds can be heard chirping nearby despite the fact that there is an abundance of trees. What happened to this town? Naturally, the family members decide to split up to investigate. Cue the countdown to their discovery of blood spatters.

You may be thinking that the situational horror described sounds extremely generic. That’s because it is. The real question though is how is such an ordinary template executed? Are there enough details to make the situation specific to this story? Do characters respond to challenges in ways that are practical and intelligent? Are there surprising revelations along the way? Inspired scares? Neat special, visual, and practical effects? It is apparent that the film underachieves across these categories.

Most frustrating is when our protagonists learn that the monster uses sound to navigate, they fail to utilize this knowledge to gain the advantage. Instead, they make even more unnecessary noises. It’s enraging. The screenplay tends to rely on them gambling their lives instead of looking around first to see which object, or objects, they can use to deceive the creature. And get this: Not one of them bothers to go to the kitchen and grab a weapon. We can only take so much lack of common sense.

The poor quality of “Don’t Speak” has little to do with limited budget. The best horror flicks tend to have smart and resourceful characters. If we feel that the protagonists are really present and actively thinking of ways to extricate themselves out of tricky situations, excitement follows. But not here. We get the impression that people make it through the end not because they are most fit but because the plot requires a survivor (or survivors). It leaves a bitter taste in the mouth.

Favorite Films of 2018


Below are my Favorite Films of 2018. It must be noted that the list may change slightly if I happened to come across great movies I had missed prior to this post. The same rule applies to all of my annual Favorite Lists. In other words, my lists are updated continually. My hope is to provide alternative movies that are absolutely worth seeing that may not or will not necessarily appear on “Top Critics” picks. Underneath each picture is an excerpt from my review which can be found in the archive. In the meantime, dive in and, as always, feel welcome to let me know what you think.



A Quiet Place
John Krasinski

“The picture’s excellence lies in its willingness to take its time. Observe the key scene where the father decides to take his son by the river. While there, they must wade through water, open traps, and acquire fish. But the son, clearly traumatized by what tends to happen when they make noise, would not even get in the water. The father recognizes that forcing the boy isn’t the right way to go. And so they share a conversation, a quiet moment in a not-so-quiet place, in which it is implied that the timid youngest must learn to push through his apprehension in order to learn and survive. I argue that this sensitive moment is the heart of the picture. Although there is no action, and it is important there isn’t one so we get a chance to focus on both the images and what is being communicated, it wonderfully captures what the story is about. No, it is not about monsters killing people.”



Upgrade
Leigh Whannell

“Every once in a while I come across a work that makes such a terrific impression that I become thoroughly convinced right in the middle of it that the movie will be remembered fondly ten to twenty years from the time of its release. ‘Upgrade,’ written and directed by Leigh Whannell, is such a film for it takes a familiar template regarding our relationship with technology, specifically artificial intelligence, and wrinkles the blueprint just enough to create an ambitious, amusing, suspenseful, and highly entertaining project.”



Widows
Steve McQueen

“Leave it to director Steve McQueen to helm a heist film more interested in the people about to pull a job than the actual robbery itself. What results is an elegant, intelligent, character-driven work that commands the precision of high-end thrillers in which the viewer is dared not to blink in order to avoid missing a beat. Notice that the burglary unfolds for a mere five minutes and yet the overall experience is most satisfying. The reason is because seeing the theft is merely cherry on top. We already know that it must be done and how it will be done. And once it is done—I’d even go as far to say that even before it is done—we are more curious about how the characters will choose to move on with their lives.”



Boy Erased
Joel Edgerton

“There are numerous genuinely affecting moments in the picture, like the talk between a doctor (Cherry Jones) who is tasked to draw blood from her patient ([Lucas] Hedges), but one that elevates the film greatly is the final exchange between father and son. To reveal as little as possible is ideal, but what is at stake is how the Eamons family will move forward. There is so much to say and express, but [director Joel] Edgerton chooses to be concise and precise. Beautifully shot and the dialogue so well-written, somehow the confrontation comes across both grand and deeply personal. It is a terrific closer to a wonderful film that just so happens to be well-intentioned.”



The Rider
Chloé Zhao

“The poetry embedded in every frame and every feeling of ‘The Rider’ is something that mainstream Hollywood pictures can only dream of. It offers a different type of entertainment—one that is quiet, yearning, inspiring the viewer look within, to ponder about one’s place in life and where it is possibly heading, rather than eliciting reductive and evanescent reactions stemming from sudden turns in plot or pacing. From its simple but elegant visual style to its deeply humanist approach of allowing the camera to rest on faces and bodies—including that of animals—writer-director Chloé Zhao has created a work that will undoubtedly stand the test of time. It is a joy that it took me completely by surprise.”



We the Animals
Jeremiah Zagar

“Like a most unexpected but pleasant kiss, Jeremiah’s Zagar’s ‘We the Animals’ surprised me for its willingness to paint a snapshot of childhood without relying on dialogue. Instead, this beautiful and captivating picture relies on impressions, initially similar to Terrence Malick’s ‘The Tree of Life’ but one that eventually dares to forge a path of its own. Going into it blind, about halfway through, it made me wonder whether the story was based on the director’s own childhood. The reason is because every second of it feels so detailed and so personal, particularly the boy’s painful realization that he is different than his family and that their love may not be unconditional.”



Lean on Pete
Andrew Haigh

“‘Lean on Pete’ is based on the novel by Willy Vlautin—and it shows. Notice that nearly every single adult Charley (Charlie Plummer—perfect for the role) knows or comes across has been chewed up and spit out by life, from his own father (Travis Fimmel) who pays more attention to wooing women than ensuring the well-being of his son, a female jockey (Chloë Sevigny) who has had her share of broken bones but cannot seem to care deeply about the horses she rides, to the pair of young soldiers (Lewis Pullman, Justin Rain) who just returned from the Middle East. A humanist writer-director, Andrew Haigh underscores the loneliness and sadness that these characters attempt to cover up. So even when someone makes a cruel decision, we do not hate them for it. It can be interpreted that their actions are based upon what life has taught them.”



Won’t You Be My Neighbor?
Morgan Neville

“Underneath the relaxed nature of the documentary, there is a sense of urgency that juts out from time to time. It implies that since the show’s bow in 2001, there has been a void when it comes to such programming for kids. And it makes for a compelling case. I grew up with Disney, Nickelodeon, and Cartoon Network shows and movies—not one of them offers a high level of insight or courage when it comes to tackling questions or subjects that really matter. I was amazed that ‘Mister Roger’s Neighborhood’ dared to discuss topics such as racism, divorce, death, and even how it feels like to have crippling self-doubt. It made me want to look into the show—entire episodes, not just clips—and see how they are handled. I caught myself thinking that surely there must be an archive of all the episodes because the show is willing to construct a bridge between parent and child so that they are more able to discuss difficult or controversial subjects.”



Tully
Jason Reitman

“Here is a project determined to provide a raw portrayal of pregnancy, giving birth, and raising a child during its early weeks post-birth that we rarely see in the movies. We do not see the pregnant woman emitting a perfect radiant glow, a silly panicked rush to the hospital once her water breaks, nor do we come across a miraculous instantaneous recovery once she has been discharged from the hospital. Instead, it is interested in showing the reality of many ever day mothers, particularly the exhaustion that takes over as they struggle to maintain the stability of the household. Although it shows the less than sunny side of how it is like to be a mother, it is a love letter dedicated to them nonetheless. It reminded me of times when I would simply observe my mother as she juggles cooking, washing dishes, doing laundry, vacuuming, and making a list for the next day’s trip to the supermarket—all of it after a long day at work while standing most of the time.”



Adrift
Baltasar Kormákur

“Movies of today tend to forget the importance of an opening sequence. Lesser works offer erratic, uninformative, at times confusing, nonsensical, or boring introductions that have little to do, if any, with what the picture is about. They dampen viewers’ expectations rather than rouse or compel us to keep watching, unblinking. Baltasar Kormákur’s ‘Adrift’ does not make this mistake. He dares to place us after the climax as a young woman wakes up in yacht that had survived a Category 4 hurricane in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. We watch her bloodied face and panic-stricken body struggle to find a way out among the debris. We know, and she knows, that the real horror is only about to begin. Kormákur trusts that we can follow the story from there.”

A Quiet Place


A Quiet Place (2018)
★★★★ / ★★★★

Director John Krasinski encourages viewers to imagine living in a world where one must learn to exist with making as minimal noise as possible. Because failing to adhere to a certain decibel level relative to the baseline sound of the environment almost certainly results in monstrous creatures running toward the source of detectable noise. What better way to entangle us into this universe than employing silence to give to us room to ponder and consider. It is so engrossing, eventually we are conditioned to look at a room and note every object that might create the slightest noise. It is a high-caliber survival story.

To call a movie “adrenaline-fueled” is a wilted cliché, but it is most appropriate here. During its well-written and consistently well-timed rising action, when a family of four (Krasinski, Emily Blunt, Millicent Simmonds, Noah Jupe), initially a family of five, is thrusted into one horrific situation after another, it felt as if I had run several laps around the theater. I could feel my heartbeat pulsating out of my chest in both anticipation and reaction; it is clear that the material understands the critical balance of suspense (anticipation) and thrill (reaction). It knows how to engage the viewer at the most primal level—and it is not just because a family we grow to care about is in mortal danger. We imagine ourselves in their shoes, how we might react given a set of extremely challenging circumstances.

Although a horror film, we are inspired not to look away—a trait that genre greats tend to have in common. The reason is because although we might be terrified of what is unfolding in front of our very eyes, our innate curiosity to learn or discover overpowers our fears. And so we look on. This is a horror project that invites rather than repels—which is so beautiful to come across because this approach is now a rarity in modern, certainly mainstream, horror filmmaking. Nowadays, it is more about parading guts and gore or shaking the camera relentlessly rather than building upon the threat until the inevitable boiling point.

The picture’s excellence lies in its willingness to take its time. Observe the key scene where the father decides to take his son by the river. While there, they must wade through water, open traps, and acquire fish. But the son, clearly traumatized by what tends to happen when they make noise, would not even get in the water. The father recognizes that forcing the boy isn’t the right way to go. And so they share a conversation, a quiet moment in a not-so-quiet place, in which it is implied that the timid youngest must learn to push through his apprehension in order to learn and survive. I argue that this sensitive moment is the heart of the picture. Although there is no action, and it is important there isn’t one so we get a chance to focus on both the images and what is being communicated, it wonderfully captures what the story is about. No, it is not about monsters killing people.

Time will tell whether “A Quiet Place” is a modern classic. In my eyes, it already is. Its premise is creative, its execution most entertaining, and it is highly efficient in communicating what it hopes to accomplish. In addition, it dares viewers to observe every scene as if it were a visual novel; it assumes that we are intelligent by avoiding to spell out every beat, pause, and implication. And it reminds us that sound need not be used so much in film given that every other element is elevated.