Trey Edward Shults' IT COMES AT NIGHT -- Atmosphere: 10. Characters, pacing, story: 3

As sloppily silent as his earlier Thanksgiving-family-trauma movie, Krisha, was sloppily talkative, the new would-be horror movie from the hailed-as-a-wunderkind Trey Edward Shults (shown below) turns out to be one of the most disappointing entries into the apocalyptic, end-of-civilization genre TrustMovies has yet seen. Derivative, tiresome, repetitive and paced like molasses-on-ice, the film's worst sin is to trap us with a sextet of characters for 97 minutes and yet provide none of these protagonists with any real character. They're frightened, and they're distrusting, and that's about it. IT COMES AT NIGHT turns out to be as clichéd as its silly title, the "it" of which comes, well, just about anytime at all. But, hey, darkness (including via cinematography) can cover a multitude of sins, don'cha know?

This movie is actually so bad -- super high on atmosphere and dread but super low on any of the specifics and details that might give credence and meaning to its poorly conceived plot -- that I think it is practically spoiler-proof. I will still honor the element of surprise, however, and keep my mouth shut (and fingers tied down) so as not to ruin what little there is here. It is safe to say that some kind of non-specific plague has evidently decimated humanity, but one family has persisted out in the wilds, though as the film opens we see that poor Gramps is a goner, leaving mom, dad and son alive and presumably well. Soon a would-be break-in via an intruder leads to another mom, dad and son joining the little group.

So far, so-so, with nagging little questions regarding what possible good those silly gas masks can do (perhaps the infected let out some nasty farts?) and exactly how long it takes for symptoms to show up (somebody mentions their being fast-acting, but, hmmmmm...).

Not that any of this matters, for soon we're being treated to the requisite gooey/scary special effects (above and below), which of course come via the also requisite nightmares -- which are required because, otherwise, there would be no special effects to speak of at all, and our current idiot audiences absolutely demand these. But I digress.

I do question the need for such a first-rate cast -- Joel Edgerton, Christopher Abbott, Carmen Ejogo and Riley Keough, with an especially promising young actor, Kelvin Harrison, Jr., (at right in the penultimate photo) as the older of the two sons -- since no character trait whatsoever (other than being scared) has been provided them by the filmmaker.

Yes, the movie flirts with themes of trust and betrayal, the wisdom of helping others, family comes first, and that the horror may actually come from within. But it is all flirting -- with no real depth, let alone consummation.

So on we go. Until we don't. In its way, this is the perfect film for our Trumpian times: The situation is dire, and there's no hope.

Finally little other than a load of been-there/done-that crap, the movie is more than mere disappointment: It's a harbinger of our critical establishment's increasing placement of atmosphere above intelligent movie storytelling. If you are looking for a truly interesting, surprising, unusual and oddly fulfilling end-of-time/apocalypse film, I suggest that you watch The Girl With All the Gifts, available now on streaming and DVD.

Meanwhile, from A24 and running a snail-paced 97 minutes, It Comes at Night opens nationwide this Friday, June 9. To find the theaters near you, simply click here.

Stream the apocalypse, Spanish style, in Àlex and David Pastor's gripping, moving THE LAST DAYS

Whatever else THE LAST DAYS (Los últimos días) may be -- and mostly, it's a smart and relatively original (thank god, there are no zombies roaming about) vision of humanity's future, once an odd and sudden plague of agoraphobia occurs worldwide, proving fatal to those who venture out of doors -- this apocalyptic thriller, in its final few minutes, becomes so unbearably moving and beautiful that I swear you'll have seen little like it. For this alone, the movie rates as an instant must-see.

The filmmakers, brothers from Barcelona, are Àlex and David Pastor (shown above, with Àlex at left), and a few years back they gave us the darker and somewhat better movie, Carriers, yet another film about a humanity-deadening plague. Just as does their new one, that earlier movie dealt with the price of trying to remain human and caring amidst what appears to be an end-of-the-world scenario.

For this important theme alone -- one that most apocalypse-now moviemakers are happy to avoid -- The Last Days is worth a look. But there is more going on here, as well. The film is actually a love story of two men, and though their love is not initially toward each other, they come to this by movie's end.

One of them, Marc (played by that handsome, gap-toothed Spanish everyman, Quim Gutiérrez, above, who's just about everywhere these days), loves and will do anything to find his girlfriend, Julia (Marta Etura, shown at bottom left), who's been holding back a certain important bit of information from Marc. The other fellow, Enrique (played by that fine actor José Coronado, below) is also desperate to reach a family member, more of whom we learn as the movie progresses.

In this new circumstance, in which everyone remains indoors, the two must work together to find a way to reach their loved ones via subways and sewers, rather than step out into the open air and die. (Before all news media are cut off, we hear scientists and others arguing about the possible cause of this condition: Is it mass hysteria or something in the dust from certain suddenly active volcanoes?

We never know, but it take watching only one frightened and hysterical man, having been fired and now being evicted from his office space into what would normally be a perfectly benign sidewalk area, to realize how "real" this threat actually is.

The visuals here range from rather standard apocalyptic stuff to the quite striking (above). The movie's single most exciting scene takes place in a cathedral, below, where a certain uninvited guest has arrived, with a bit more on his mind than mere prayer.

The movie initially moves from past to present, as we learn how all this has occurred. Eventually we're only in the daunting present -- until that amazing finale. This becomes a little ten-minute story unto itself, in which quiet style, splendid visuals, a just-right musical score and very few words takes us a decade or more onwards into the kind of blessed place that the makers of Hollywood blockbusters -- with all their money and special effects -- only wish they could create.

If the movie itself is never achieves the perfection of its finale, neither could the ending work so well without all we've seen previously that has led up to it. The Last Days --  from IFC Midnight, running 100 minutes and in Spanish with English subtitles -- is screening now via Netflix streaming and elsewhere. Under any criteria, I'd have to call this one a don't-miss movie.

Streaming tip: John Huddles' AFTER THE DARK beguilingly joins philosophy and filmmaking

The original name for John Huddles' unusual new film, AFTER THE DARK, was The Philosophers -- a much better title but one that was evidently found wanting in the marketing department, perhaps by the distributor, Phase 4 Films. Consequently, an original movie found itself  burdened with a practically say-nothing title and released in very limited fashion to little box-office or much notice. (Even so, the movie managed to garner a very healthy, 77% positive critical rating on Rotten Tomatoes.)

Writer/director Huddles, shown at left, has come up with something pretty rare in cinema -- using philosophy and a philosophy class at an international school in Indonesia to demon-strate how to choose the best group of people to survive a worldwide nuclear blast and, after, to replenish the earth. (Given the film's Indonesian setting, I do hope that the subjects of The Act of Killing get the opportunity to see this film -- not that they possess nearly enough self-understanding to comprehend or appreciate it.)

The philosophy teacher here, nicely played by James D'Arcy (in foreground, above, wearing the light blue shirt), clearly has his classroom favorites (an A+ student named Petra, played by Sophie Lowe, below, left, and lately of Adore) and his dislikes (James, played by Rhys Wakefield, below, right, and recently seen in +1), and these come prominently to the fore as the movie continues. The problem our teacher gives his class is just a kind of game. Even though we see it acted out by the students -- and not once but thrice -- whatever horrible things happen we already understand are not real and so we can enjoy them without having to suffer the results.

Each time, the scenario begins the same but the outcome differs, and the students learn more about life, gamesmanship and making hard decisions. We, in turn, learn more about the students, as we watch their characters grow and change.

The movie's take on philosophy calls into question some of its more lurid pronouncements, offering up a scenario that places value on socialization and communication, as much as on power and strength. Movies often give us quick shots of Nietzsche, Sartre, and (god help us) Ayn Rand (sort of a philosophy-for-dummies kind of thing), but it's rare and invigorating to find a film that embraces the discipline as strongly as this one. Even if you disagree with how things plays out or how these budding "philosophers" think and react, at least they do think (we're already one up on most teen movies). And so will you.

In the large cast of attractive and talented actors, you may notice the likes of Daryl Sabara (above, front row, center right: remember Spy Kids?) and Katie Findlay (front row, far right, of the The Killing). So good are so many of these young actors that my spouse and I could have sat through a movie twice as long (this one lasts 107 minutes) just to spend more time with them and learn more about them.

The movie's ending takes a leaf from our professor's playbook, as we learn a bit more about him -- and it proves to be quite wonderful and appropriate in its own right.

After the Dark can be streamed now via Netflix and elsewhere, and can also be seen on DVD and Blu-ray (the cinematography of Indonesia is quite beautiful).

Xavier Gens' THE DIVIDE: Here comes a particularly unsettling apocalypse

After a nasty, envelope-pushing Frontier(s), followed by a better-than-you-heard-but-still-not-very-good Hitman, French genre director Xavier Gens looks to have found his stride with his latest -- THE DIVIDE -- an ugly, apocalyptic scare fest that is also profoundly sad and all-too unpleasantly human.

An ensemble piece that begins with a memorable shot of New York under nuclear siege as viewed through the eyes of the character with whom we come to identify most, a young woman named Eva (played with a smart combo of steely reserve and pop-up vulnerability by Lauren German), the movie soon becomes the tale of survivors holed-up in the fallout shelter basement of a Manhattan high-rise -- where the usual happens but in a decidedly unusual manner.

M. Gens, pictured at right, both wrote and directed Frontier(s) but only directed Hitman and The Divide, which accounts for the tightness of the formers' screenplay, plotting and characterization. What makes The Divide work as well as it does is the fact that he and his writers (Karl Mueller and Eron Sheean) place characterization above all else (except the main situation, of course) and then let character control the outcome. This adds immeasurably to the movie's believability and helps keep us watching through the most horrible of several wretched occurrences. Unlike those in so many genre movies, you won't find these people doing a lot of out-and-out stupid things along the way. Nasty, character-driven things, perhaps. But not necessarily stupid.

Along with the fine Ms German (above), the cast includes Iván González as her less-than-helpful boyfriend, Michael Biehn (standing, below center, and very good as the super whose basement bunker this is), Rosanna Arquette as a bereaved mother whose bereavement takes an unusual course, Ashton Holmes as the single sensitive guy, and Milo Ventimiglia (second right, below) and Michael Eklund (below, right) as the two most "problemed" males in the bunch.

Among the several intelligent surprises the movie has to offer is the revelation of the identity of the "towelheads" (as Biehn's super calls them) who attacked us, and the short excursion that one of our fellows makes outside the bunker -- the results of which you'll wish you didn't know.

No rom-com day-at-the-beach, The Divide is grueling but satisfying (in dark ways, yes). The movie, from Anchor Bay Films and running 110 minutes, opens this Friday, January 13, at midnight screenings only (it deserves better and more) in Austin, Boston, Dallas, Denver, Los Angeles and New York, and will hit a flock of other cities beginning Friday, January 20.  Click here (and then click on SHOWTIMES) to find all currently scheduled cities and theaters.

Chills, scares & kindness: Brad Anderson's VANISHING ON 7th STREET hits theaters

What a shame that Night Catches Us has already (and so recently!) been used as the title of a movie, one for which its meaning proved abstruse, at best. It would have made the perfect fit for Brad Anderson's new film VANISHING ON 7th STREET, a title that, while place-specific, is little more than prosaic. The actual film, however, is anything but. A truly creepy, frightening, bizarre and oddly moving film about perhaps the ultimate "fear of the dark," this exceedingly swift and smart genre movie delivers the goods on every front,  from concept to execution -- including screenplay (by Anthony Jaswinski), dialog, direction and performances -- with style to spare. And on the kind of low budget that I suspect would send certain other directors into apoplectic fits.

From the time of his breakout indie Next Stop Wonderland through Happy Accidents, Session 9, The Machinist, Transsiberian and now this new one (with the occasional cable TV gig between times), Anderson has been a talented and terrifically diverse filmmaker whom you can count on to provide smart entertainments that often offer something more. Long after seeing one of his films, an idea, a moment, performance, line of dialog or visual memory will come back to haunt you, but pleasantly. The filmmaker has now tackled the rom-com, fantasy, thriller, horror, drama, and sci-fi genres with equal aplomb. If he hasn't come out with the best film in any of these, he always manages a good one. And with Vanishing, he might actually have a "best" on his hands.
 
This unusually chilling movie starts with an almost immediate bang: a disappearance. From there we move extraordinarily quickly into a situation fraught with immediacy and terror. What has happened to others may happen to the folk we're suddenly stuck with and whom we become rather fond of fast. These include Hayden Christensen (above), Thandie Newton (below, right) and Jacob Latimore (below, left) and John Leguizamo (one photo down).

There is also a little girl (Taylor Groothuis, at bottom) who appears to be camping out in a nearby church. How these five connect, interact, help and hinder each other makes the short film (well under 90 minutes, as I recall) work to tremendous effect. If you buy the initial premise, which I will not give away, it is more than easy to go along with just about everything else, and soon you'll be biting your nails to the quick.

So primal is the fear generated by the movie's premise, so skillfully have Anderson and Jaswinski mined it for shock, surprise and detail, and so immediate and full of feeling are the performances of the five principals that I can't imagine being more strongly caught up in a fantasy/sci-fi/horror situation than I was with this one.

Why is this "thing" happening? Is humanity to blame in some -- or many -- ways? Are our survivors guilty because of "survivor guilt," or is something deeper and more individual going on? Much is hinted at but concrete answers never appear, which is just as well. The victims don't have time to ask such questions, and at the speed and pacing on which Anderson insists, we barely do, either. The ending, by the way, is simple, stun-ning and so right. I can't wait for the sequel.


Vanishing on 7th Street opens this Friday, February 18, in New York City at the Village East Cinema. Click here to learn other playdates, cities and theaters around the country.