Netflix streaming tip: Karl Mueller's creepy (and timely) REBIRTH is worth a watch

Initially, REBIRTH looks like one of those would-be thrillers in which a character (often a male) is sucked into a cult-like organization that demands his body, soul and finances. And, yes, this movie turns out to be pretty much that. But how it sucks our guy in is very well done. Very.

That the guy is played by one of TrustMovies' favorite actors -- Fran Kranz -- helps inordinately, too. Mr. Kranz, shown below, as usual, gives himself over to the role wholeheartedly and turns in an excellent performance.

The film's writer/director -- Karl Mueller (shown below)-- proves as adept at pacing as he is at dialog and much else. For all the would-be clichés the movie offers, it must be said that Mueller is able to bring those clichés to resonating life.

The "cult," which of course denies it could ever be conceived as anything so awful as a cult, turns out to be something akin to a combo of Scientology and Amway -- and twice as toxic as either.

How it entraps our hero seems amazingly on-target and will be difficult for any intelligent viewer, I suspect, to easily discount -- using, as it does, everything from sexual longing to male entitlement and just-plain fear and confusion to pull the lead character into its web. Sure, this guy works for a bank and is involved in social media, but it is clear from the outset that he is also simply walking through his days -- as both worker and family man -- and so is ripe for the pickings.

As usual, I would prefer not to get into spoilers here, and there are plenty ahead for intrepid viewers to encounter. Leave it to say that Kyle (Mr. Kranz's character) is, from the beginning, a problemed fellow -- zombie-fied by everything from his job to his home life -- and that Rebirth, the company involved as well as the title of the movie, does indeed offer him a certain kind of seemingly necessary "outlet."

But at what cost? You will find out. That is, if you stick with this unusual and very necessary movie for our current times. The supporting cast -- which includes a fine array of actors, from Harry Hamlin and Nicky Whelan (above) to Andrew J. West (at bottom), Adam Goldberg (as Kyle's old friend and new nemesis) and Sheryl Lee (below) -- makes the movie even more enjoyable (in its uber-creepy way).

I suspect that Rebirth's receiving an only 5-point rating on IMDB has to do more with its (depending on how you look at it) negative outcome than with anything else. Audiences today want feel-good, and they get it from almost every outlet they view. They won't find it here, and righteous hosannas are due for that.

Available to stream now via Netflix, Rebirth runs just 100 minutes and is well worth your time and trouble -- if you are in the market for something thought-provoking and unsettling.                                             

Dripping with sleaze, the creeps and barely-veiled aggression: Benjamin Naishtat's ROJO

When every scene, moment, action (even the non-action) in a movie is loaded with negative possibilities that seem ready to (but never quite do) burst, the build-up can be extraordinary, even if the final result is sometimes a let-down.

In Benjamin Naishtat's new Argentine film ROJO -- actually a co-production of Argentina, Brazil, France, The Netherlands, Germany, Belgium and Switzerland: It take a lot to get a movie produced these days -- the build-up in the very first scene alone is pretty staggering. There is, finally, at the end of this scene, real action, though it is kind that both surprises and then results in ever more weirdly threatening possibilities. It must also be said that the final result of Rojo, if not exactly staggering, is anything but a let-down.

Señor Naishstat, shown at right and born in 1986, has set his film in 1975, the year before the famous military coup that resulted in iron-fisted rule and some 30,000 Argentine citizens -- often young people who protested the military government -- being killed or "disappeared." The look of the film seems spot-on (though how would TrustMovies even know this, not having been in Argentina during this time), but more importantly, equally spot-on seems the increasingly creepy behavior of the citizens, beginning with our sort-of hero, family-man and lawyer, Claudio, played with a fine flair for undercurrent by ace Argentine actor Dario Grandinetti, below.

The opening scene takes place in a restaurant (below) between Claudio, a very strange and angry younger man, and the waiter. From there we move to various sections of Argentine society, culture, business and government -- including law, real estate, religion, art, education and the press -- and in each of these instances we witness the citizenry up to either no good, very little good, or perhaps in rare cases trying just a bit to circumvent the oncoming barrage.

That restaurant scene comes back to haunt our hero in strange ways but proves maybe the least of things, over all. People, when they are not acting outright sleazy (as in the case of the best friend, below, who involves Claudio in an "iffy" real estate deal), seem willing to remain silent, or very nearly. When they do speak out, as in the case of an inquiring reporter questioning a government official, you'll think you know what will happen. But even that can take longer, or work out differently, than you might have imagined

Who is complicit and how is called constantly into question. And nobody gets off the hook. It has been awhile since I've seen a movie that seemed quite as creepy and off-kilter as this one, while almost never arriving -- except at the end of that initial scene -- at anything remotely definitive.

And nothing is sacred -- not family, friendship, the workplace or the church. When a supposedly crack detective -- from Chile, yet! -- arrives on the scene (played by the excellent Alfredo Castro, below), the fact that he is/was a real detective, now plays one on television, and yet is still used for solving crimes, seems somehow ridiculously fitting.

I suspect it will help your enjoyment of the film if you know something of the history of Argentina (or something of South and Central American history in general). Either way, it should not take too much of a leap for American viewers to realize that the allowing -- or is it really perhaps the welcoming -- of a dictatorship can arrive all too easily and quickly. And, no, wearing a wig won't help.

From 1844 Entertainment and Distrib Films US, in Spanish with English subtitles, and running 109 minutes, Rojo opens this Friday, July 12, in New York City at Film at Lincoln Center and the Quad Cinema, and on Friday, July 19 in Los Angeles at Laemmle's Royal, followed by a rollout to other cities over the weeks to come.

Blu-ray debut for a cult "classic" from the 1970s: Ted Post/Abe Polsky's THE BABY

Is THE BABY -- the 1973 shocker/horror/ slasher/chiller genre-movie written by Abe Polsky and directed by Ted Post just released on Blu-ray via Arrow Video -- some kind of camp classic? Or is it one of those movies so bad that it's good? Or simply so bad that it's awful? Or maybe just groundbreaking enough to sneak into the "classic" category? Turns out that The Baby proves pretty much all of the above. Just when you decide it is one thing, damned if it doesn't turn into another. And then another.

Overall, TrustMovies would have to say that The Baby is worth the time of viewers who love genre movies, particularly those that rather strain (if not full-out break) the "naughty" barrier. According to what we learn from the interviews in the Special Features section of this full-packed disc, the movie is more the work of writer Polsky than of director Post (shown at left) -- who, according to the Special Features section of this packed disc, had been brought in to class up the proceedings a bit and to add a little humor to the movie's dark mix. (During this same year of 1973, the director would also have two major films released: The Harrad Experiment and one of the "Dirty Harry" oeuvre, Magnum Force.)

The Baby's cast, too, is a cut above the usual for the horror genre: Anjanette Comer (above) and Ruth Roman (below) play, respectively the protagonist and antagonist, and both do a good job in roles the characterization of which rely as much on acting talent and charisma as any depth of writing.

The plot has it that an overly-caring social worker (played by Ms Comer) sets her sights the case of the "baby" of the title, a grown young man who is still in diapers and baby clothes and never seems to have progressed in intelligence or motor skills beyond the infant stage. His mother (Ms Roman) and sisters seems happy, eager maybe, to make sure he remains this way. They get a nice monthly stipend from the state to take care of the boy.

Baby is played by the young actor who used the name of David Manzy (aka David Mooney), and who is indelible enough in the role that you could imagine no casting director would ever take a chance on him in any other kind of role after this film. (Look what happened to the versatile, hugely talented and award-winning Anthony Perkins, once he had made his mark in Psycho.)

The plot, as well as the pacing, goes up and down, back and forth, as the movie moves oddly along and we are treated to some very weird, maybe even taboo delights, the best of which involves a babysitter (Erin O'Reilly, above) and a little unplanned breast-feeding.

We move on to a kidnapping, slashings and murders, and a surprise ending that's a hoot and a half. (That's Marianna Hill, above, who plays one of Baby's two nasty sisters.) By movie's end, you'll probably be satisfied that you watched this very oddball genre piece. Certainly, nothing quite compares to it.

As usual with Arrow Video, the Blu-ray transfer is excellent -- crisp, bright and colorful -- and the disc comes complete with a number of interesting bonus features: new audio commentary from Travis Crawford, archival audio interviews with Ted Post and David Manzy, a recent interview with Marianna Hill (in which she talks about director Post as though he were Ingmar Bergman or Roberto Rossellini), and a very interesting appreciation of The Baby by film professor Rebekah McKendry.

Distributed in the USA via MVD Visual and running 84 minutes, the movie hit the street this past Tuesday, September 25, on Blu-ray only -- for purchase and (I hope, somewhere, somehow) rental.

Nicolas Pesce's THE EYES OF MY MOTHER: horror often viewed at a discreet distance

Beginning with a scene on a country road in which the driver of a truck sees something untoward just ahead of him, and then taking us into the lives of one of the strangest families to be found on film, this new pristine, black-and-white movie makes Norman Bates look like a piker and shows up the Austrian oddity, Goodnight Mommy, as the artsy piece of schlock it is. THE EYES OF MY MOTHER will not be to everyone's taste (not even to all horror aficionados) but it ought to quickly take its place in the annals of quietly creepy, one-of-a-kind movies.

Its writer/director, Nicolas Pesce (shown at left), spares us much of the gore quotient possible here but none of the ghastly realizations of exactly what has been, is now, or soon will be going on. Believe me, these are lulus. And because they are often seen at a discreet distance, with music that quietly foments rather than knocks our eardrums silly, the result is often as breathtaking as it is horrifying. This is a film, no matter how "good" it may be, that you will not want to recommend to those who have trouble with the transgressive.

Eyes, surgery, cattle, obsession and a whole lot more make themselves felt in ways major and minor throughout the film, along with the bizarre behavior of not just the three principals in the family -- dad, mom and little girl -- but in the smiling interloper who sets into play the awful plot and then pays for it, bigtime, in a manner that may put you in mind of The Secret in Their Eyes.

You do not need plot details for a movie like this. Best, I think, if you're a horror fan, to simply approach it as tabula rasa as possible. The little girl (above) grows up into a young woman (below) who proves both one of the great horror villains and a characters who, given her fraught history, remains somehow vulnerable and (almost) sympathetic.

The cinematography (Zach Kuperstein) is stunning throughout, and the performances of every cast member on the nose. The logic of the film may leave something to be desired, but because The Eyes of My Mother has the strong, dark feel of a waking nightmare, you will probably forgive this (or not even notice) -- so simple yet propulsive is this relatively short (only 76 minutes) tale.

The behavior of our "leading lady -- the unusual but very fine Kika Magalhaes --  is so keyed to need, parenting (that's dad, being bathed, above), and socialization (the latter achieved, it would seem, via old movies, mostly noir, seen on TV) that whatever happens here seems somehow less over-the-top than the manner in which our "heroine" has most likely been raised.

From Magnolia's Magnet division, in mostly English and a little Portuguese with English subtitles, the movie opened this past weekend, December 2, in five cities and will hit another 14 this coming Friday, December 9, and even more over the weeks to come. Click here to see all currently scheduled playdates, cities and theaters. Simultaneously, The Eyes of My Mother is available via VOD, Amazon Video and iTunes.

Isaac Ezban's THE SIMILARS takes smart, low-budget sci-fi to a new high-water mark

It is so rare to encounter a genuine original, especially in the realm of science fiction/horror, that when a movie like THE SIMILARS (Los parecidos) arrives, one is quite heavily tempted to stand up and cheer. This new movie from Mexican filmmaker Isaac Ezban is so immediately engrossing and unusual that you'll hooked within a minute or two. Then it simply gets better and better until... oh, my god.

And while it is vastly amusing in a manner than becomes darker and darker, it is also so rich and strange that its humor -- which is completely organic and never slick or precious -- is as pivotal and important to the film as are its scares and surprises, of which there are many. Señor Ezban, pictured at right, has taken a great idea and run with it so far, fast and completely that its ramifications keep unfurling as his film moves along until they reach a brilliant ending that in no way disappoints.

This in itself is pretty spectacular. That the filmmaker keep you gasping and smiling in equal proportion every step of the way is even more amazing. The plot? Let's just say that a group of disparate people have been forced to gather at a small, out-of-the-way bus station due to a staggering rainstorm that seems to be hitting the entire world simultaneously. Impossible? Quite.

Ezban sets his movie back in 1968, and this makes it even more intriguing because it can then incorporate much that was going on at the time -- from student unrest and the music of the era to the effects of acid rain -- and it does this is an equally unsettling manner, leaving things open to further discussion, except that everything moves so fast that discussion (or even much thought) is the last thing these characters, along with their audience, have time for.

The filmmaker has assembled a crack cast to do his bizarre bidding -- he both wrote and directed the movie -- beginning with an fine actor you may have seen in another unusual Mexican film called Leap Year: Gustavo Sánchez Parra (above, left), who plays the first arrival at this nearly deserted bus station. There is also a pretty and very pregnant young woman (Cassandra Ciangherotti, above, right, and below). Both are trying to get to Mexico City, which seems to be blocked off due to the rain.

A very odd indigenous woman who does not speak Spanish is also present, along with the ticket seller named Martin, and a young female friend of his, as well. Soon will arrive a woman and her young son (below) who is clearly in need of medical help, along with a young man who may just be one of those student revolutionaries we keep hearing about on the bus station radio, the reception for which repeatedly goes in and out.

Once this group has arrived, the plot unfurls. From here it is mostly a matter of what is happening -- I'll tell you right now that it's a lulu -- and then why this is happening (which turns out to be even more bizarre). There's some blood and gore, all right, but mostly, there is amazement coupled to odd, dark humor at the very weird situation here.

Comparison has been made to the old TV series, The Twilight Zone, but I'll tell you right now that this film is better, richer, more thoroughly thought out than any Twilight Zone I ever saw. Ezban's filming technique is to drain almost all color so that, initially, the movie looks like it was filmed in black and white. But then we catch sight of a little light blue, or yellow. Or, ummm...yes, red.

So much depends on what is happening visually here that for awhile I wondered why the print looked like something redolent of an old (and not that hot) videotape. There is a reason for this, too: In order to show us what he wants us to see, the moviemaker must ensure that his film always looks a little muddy so that the premier visual effect here -- and it's a knock-out -- will be believable. We see, but often not all that clearly. But we see enough to always understand what is happening.

OK: enough said. If you sci-fi/horror/mystery/creep-out aficionados aren't yet hooked enough to make sure you view this movie, then I give up. I've done my part without -- I hope -- delivering a single spoiler. God knows, Señor Ezban has done his part by making one of the finest, most assured and original genre films in the long and varied history of low-budget sci-fi.

From XLrator Media and running a sleek 89 minutes, the movie is said to have opened in theaters yesterday (I cannot find a single one of them, however). But its distributor promises that it will open on cable VOD this coming Tuesday, November 15, and then via iTunes and digital platforms the following Tuesday, November 22.  I urge you -- nay, I command you -- to seek it the fuck out. 

Kiyoshi Kurosawa's CREEPY: The Japanese master of quiet fright returns -- with a jolt

If you've seen a film by Kiyoshi Kurosawa -- say, Pulse, Cure, Tokyo Sonata or the beautifully oddball Bright Future -- you'll know how remarkably quiet, riveting, beautifully-if-unshowily composed and surprisingly diverse this filmmaker's work can be. Kurosawa (shown below) is noted mostly for his films that fit somewhere into the thriller/ mystery/other-worldly realm. His latest, the perfectly titled CREEPY, is a terrific addition to that realm.

TrustMovies would call this very creepy movie one of Kurosawa's best, except that I say this about each of the man's films. I've never seen a bad one. He's too subtle and too interested in character and motivation to ever hand us anything so typically "frightening" as those Ringu/TheRing movies. Kurosawa frightens us in an entirely different manner. There is always something beyond our understanding in his films, but he gives this to us in such as way that we buy into it and finally accept that it indeed goes beyond what we can fully comprehend. Somehow he even makes us grateful.

His movies may thrill, frighten, shock and startle us. But they also approach art. Creepy begins with a detective questioning a serial killer and trying to get at the man's motivation and morality. This does not end well.

Soon after, our "hero" (a particularly fine, strong and taciturn performance from one of the best-looking men to grace current cinema, Hidetoshi Nishijima, above, and below, center) is living with his wife and big, shaggy dog in another part of town and attempting to get on with his new life as a teacher, and, along with his wife, to get to know his new neighbors. This does not go well, either, and it leads us, the family, and some of our hero's former co-workers into very dark waters.

To go much further into plot points would spoil things. Suffice it to say that the cast includes the great Teruyuki Kagawa (above, left, and below, from Devils on the Doorstep and Key of Life) as the family's most unusual neighbor, and Yûko Takeuchi , who brings beauty, pathos and finally something very strange and frightening to her role of the detective/teacher's long-suffering (and then simply suffering) wife.

The beyond-our-understanding element here is some kind of strange liquid injected into the various characters that appears to allow them to be controlled utterly. Or maybe only somewhat. The degree is important, and it is central to the theme and mystery here, which deals with responsibility, morality and motivation. By the end of Creepy, you will not only have been creeped-out but left, as are certain family members, to wrestle, perhaps forever, with the results of what they did -- or didn't -- do.
And why.

The movie -- from KimStim Films and running a long but never-for-a-moment dull 130 minutes -- opens this Friday, October 21, in New York City (at the Metrograph), Los Angeles (at Laemmle's Ahrya Fine Arts) and San Francisco (Roxie Theater), with a further rollout across the country coming in November. To see all currently scheduled playdates, cities and theaters, click here and scroll down.

BASKIN: Can Evrenol's Turkish horror film (in more ways than one) makes theatrical debut

Your first question -- once you calm down your vomit response and slide back into normalcy as this very ghastly, ghoulish horror/slasher/fantasy frolic ends -- might be, "So who is BASKIN, the person, place, thing or idea for which this new Turkish movie was presumably christened? Tell you one thing: It sure as hell ain't Baskin Robbins. Directed (and co-written along with three other screenwriters) by Can Evrenol, who is shown below, the film begins with that evergreen scene in which a young child, in this case a pretty little boy, hears his parents going at it in the bedroom and of course can't help but wonder what is taking place. Before he can find out, the scene turns into something out of a horror movie.

Cut to a coffee-house/restaurant in which a bunch of Turkish cops are bantering and making with the faggot jokes and generally behaving so very badly that you quickly realize you're not going to care what awful stuff happens to these creeps. It does end up as pretty awful, and yes, you don't care much -- even though one of those cops turns out to be the adult version of that pretty little boy. The first sign that something is amiss takes place in the restroom, as one cop, below, sees a frog and goes a little "off."

Frogs turn out to be a continuing motif here, so of course we think biblical plagues and such. Later other worse things also point a bit toward the Bible or maybe the Quran, or simply something mythic and not very nice. However, if your are someone who wants explanation with his horror, give it up now. You're mostly going to get circularity, hand-held camerawork that makes you think you've seen something scary, little actual "plot," and finally a whole bunch of torture, gore and glop.

Our cop buddies go out on a call, or maybe it's a mission, or anyway something that takes them into the "old dark house." Along the way they meet some odd gypsy types (frog hunters!), a few "service" people, and our pretty boy cop and his older mentor have some flashbacks that explain little but serve to connect the movie enough so that we don't throw up our hands and say "fuck you."

Along the way there is a lot of atmosphere, a little up-chucking now and again and some very interesting special effects, the best of which seems original and has to do with a little man drowning and being rescued by a huge pair of hands. There is also much sleight-of-hand visual stuff that lets our imagination do the work.

What's it all about? Well, sex and death and sex and violence. (Will we ever again see some sex and fun?) Beyond that there is some mumbo-jumbo from a fellow identified in the credits as "Baba/The Father (played by one, Mehmet Cerrahoglu, making a memorable debut). I found myself wondering if maybe the movie might stand for the state of the Turkish nation today? Or could it be some nasty karmic payback for the Armenian genocide? Or could this be the Turkish idea of hell? ("You carry hell with you at all times," that Baba guy intones at one point.)

Your guess, should you see this movie, will be as good as mine. Maybe it's all just a dream. Oh, wait: It's actually real. Or, as one cop tell another, "Not everything has a clear answer."  Baskin does have a certain creepy, all-stops-out craziness. And also a lot of slo-mo that extends the movie well past its sell-by point. Finally it seems as much an endurance test as anything else. The end credits, however, are artful and beautifully rendered.

From IFC Midnight and running a too-long 97 minutes, Baskin opens theatrically tomorrow, Friday, March 25, in New York City at the IFC Center (for midnight showings only). In Los Angeles, look for it at the Arena Cinema come Friday, April 1. For those of you not living on either coast, the movie is also simultaneously being made available via VOD.