Blu-ray debut for Philip Ridley's 1990 cult classic, THE REFLECTING SKIN

Early in the excellent "making-of" bonus feature on the new Blu-ray of THE REFLECTING SKIN, writer/ director Philip Ridley (shown below) posits that some movies pull you in immediately and hold you because you are simply drawn to them, while with others, you need to actively reach out; inclusion won't be automatic. His film, Ridley maintains, is of the latter variety, and TrustMovies would definitely agree. I've seen the movie twice now, and while I can appreciate many things about it, I must admit that I am not a huge fan. For me, Ridley's 2010 film, Heartless, is much more memorable: original, hypnotic, mystifying and unforgettable.

The main reason for rejoicing at this new Blu-ray release is the transfer itself. Finally, The Reflecting Skin can be seen in all its gorgeous cinematic glory. The photography, by two-time Oscar nominee Dick Pope, is extraordinary. The opening scene alone -- a golden field of wheat  -- should produce a gasp and a need for sunglasses, so blindingly beautiful is it to view.

The writer/director also has a great eye for casting; in the three of Ridley's films I've seen, each character, along with the actor who plays him/her, seem indelible, memorable, and near-perfectly cast.

The three leads in The Reflecting Skin are played by Jeremy Cooper (above), as the central character, a mischievous young boy with a vivid imagination and too much time on his hands; Viggo Mortensen (below), as his older brother, just now returning from active duty in the armed forces during the time of the atom bomb testings in the Pacific;

and Lindsay Duncan (below, center) as the British widow who lives more or less next door, in this tiny, two-horse town on the prairie. The themes tossed around in the film -- the atom bomb, angels, the afterlife, love, sexuality, family, responsibility, serial killers in a black Cadillac and, yes, vampires -- are rather clunkily assembled so that, while we "get it," some of us are still not apt to care all that much. (Heartless weaves a much more bizarre, mysterious and entrancing tale with as many oddball themes but with much more artfulness, it seems to me.)

Still, the sheer beauty of the film, together with its fine cast, and the imagination and skill that Ridley brings to each of his projects (he also wrote the fine screenplay for The Krays) combine to make the movie a worthwhile watch -- even if you don't go away raving about its brilliance.

From Film Movement Classics, the Blu-ray and DVD -- complete with commentary and Bonus Features -- hit the street this coming Tuesday, August 13, for purchase and/or rental.

Caleb Carr's long awaited transition of THE ALIENIST makes its TV debut on TNT tonight

From the time of its 1994 publication, Caleb Carr's notorious novel The Alienist was said to be on track for a major motion picture. And why not, as it would seem to have just about everything going for it? Set in New York City during The Gilded Age and peppered with real-life characters (Teddy Roosevelt), as well as the usual fictional ones, with a tale of a serial killer who preys in particularly vicious fashion on child prostitutes (both boys and girls), it had just about every "hook" in the book -- from transgressive sex and pedophilia to uber-violence, guts and gore, all wrapped into a lovingly detailed "period piece."

Finally and nearly a quarter-century later, THE ALIENIST arrives -- if not on the "big" screen, at least on your TV screen -- in a ten-part series that, from the first two episodes we critics were sent for review, captures the above "hooks" in all their ugly, tawdry glory. In fact, though the series is set in that "gilded age," we spend so much time in the 1890s slums, brothels and filthy streets of New York City that you come away from those initial episodes remembering mostly the grime and dirt, rather than any opulence you might have viewed.

The "alienist" of the title refers to the term used back then to describe what we would now called a psychiatrist. Our alienist is one, Dr. Laszlo Kreizler (played with his usual skill and charisma by German actor Daniel Brühl, shown above, center). Surrounding him are two other major characters, Sara Howard (Dakota Fanning, below) a pretty, young, up-and-coming suffragette from a very good family who works in the office of Mr. Roosevelt, and talented artist John Moore (Luke Evans, above left) who is able to capture the desecrated corpses of the victims with unusual skill and realism. Both these characters will assist the good doctor in his off-the-record investigation.

These characters, as written and performed, are perfectly acceptable but not too much more than that. Instead -- at least in those initial episodes --  it is some of the subsidiary characters who pack the most punch. In particular, we have the young doctor brothers, Lucius and Marcus Isaacson (played by Matthew Shear and Douglas Smith) -- Jews, and so definitely outsiders in this time and place-- who bring some welcome humor, energy and charm to the proceedings.

The Alienist is dark and ugly indeed, so you'll need to gird up your loins and grit your teeth while viewing this one (unless, of course, dark and ugly is already your cup of tea). But over the entire enterprise hangs a kind of "manufactured" quality. I recall feeling this, too, while reading the novel, and so stopped midway and never finished it.

The television version of the novel does have the added impact of coming now, when so many of the problems from that Gilded Age -- the enormous "wealth gap" to the ever-popular "we-hate-immigrants" movement -- are timely all over again. I would certainly watch at least a few more episodes of the television series, as it is visually interesting and well-acted enough to pass muster. But finish it? I don't know. We'll have to see....

From TNT, The Alienist begins tonight at 9pm EST. Good luck! (That's Brian Geraghty, above, as the series' version of Teddy Roosevelt.)

THE WAILING: Na Hong-jin's new everything-but-the-kitchen-sink thriller opens in theaters

What the hell has happened to that very good South Korean movie-maker, Na Hong-jin, between the time of his earlier films -- The Chaser (from 2008, a mostly first-class, if very dark and ugly thrill ride about kidnapping and murder) and The Yellow Sea (from 2010, an even darker but much quieter and more subtle exploration of the entwining of love, need and evil) -- and his latest effort, THE WAILING (Goksung)? I ask because Na's new film is the biggest embarrassment to South Korean cinema I've encountered since I first caught wind of that country's enormous moviemaking prowess around the turn of this past century. Since then, TrustMovies has watched most everything Korean he could find and had time for (including even the recent itty-bitty cable series, DramaWorld).

Even this film's title seems faintly ridiculous, as that wailing can only refer to what will most likely be the audience reaction: "When will this (spectacularly filmed) piece of shit finally end?!" Conflating -- just about as stupidly as possible -- everything from demons and ghosts to a stranger in town, serial murder, a daughter in danger, Christian parable, and so-help-me-god zombies, Mr. Na (shown at left), as both writer and director, seems suddenly taken with the toss-in-everything-including-the-kitchen-sink school of horror filmmaking. Yet there's not an original moment in the entire film.

Perhaps the supernatural thriller is not the proper genre for Na to tackle, as the result is very nearly the polar opposite to what his countryman, Bong Joon-ho, achieved with his own first-class try at a sci-fi thriller, 2014's Snowpiercer.

The biggest difference between the two films is that, in Bong's, we learn enough about almost all the characters to come to care about them; with Na's we learn so little that we can't begin to give a shit what happens to anyone (except maybe one little girl. Barely). The tale Na tells goes on for over two-and-one-half hours, and involves a small country town in which entire families are being murdered -- and by one of their own. What's going on?

The hero is played by that portly Korean "everyman" Kwak Do-won, above, right, and below, who proves as good as he's able to be as the not-terribly-bright policeman whose little daughter (below) comes under the spell of the principal bad guy. Of course, our burly cop is determined to get to the bottom of things -- which will take endless time for him (and endless patience on the part of us viewers).

The most time is spent with a local exorcist, Korean variety (below), who is soon dancing up a storm (the choreography is pretty good here!) trying to get rid of that naughty evil spirit. Toward the finale, he (and we) discover he's been barking up the wrong tree. Or maybe not. Reversals, then further reversals, do not in any way help the film's ridiculous plotting.

A big black dog (below) gets a good scene or two, and the movie is very well photographed (when have you seen a Korean film that was not?). But the South Korean penchant for length, coupled unfortunately to the obvious and repetitive, at last utterly sinks this barrage of blood, guts and heavy-duty disarray.

I can only hope that Mr. Na gets quickly back to what he's good at and leaves this kind of supernatural nonsense to those who know better how to handle it.

From Well Go USA Entertainment and running an unconscionable 156 minutes (yes!), The Wailing opens this Friday, June 3, in cities all across the country. In New York City, it is said to be playing the FSLC, the IFC Center and the AMC Empire 25; in Los Angeles, look for it at Laemmle's Monica Film Center and Playhouse 7 and at the AMC Atlantic Time Square. Here in South Florida? Nowhere at all. (Guess we don't have a large enough Korean population). Elsewhere in the USA? Absolutely. Click here and scroll down to see all currently scheduled playdates with cities and theaters.

Catching up with NBC/Gaumont's HANNIBAL: Dancy, Mikkelsen, and much ado about little

HANNIBAL -- or Hannibble, as we fondly call the famous Dr. Lecter, given his particu-lar predilection -- is a network TV series that has received a few glowing notices. So, after waiting quite some time for it to become available via streaming, we at last caught up with the show (at no cost) on Amazon Prime's Instant Video. It was, under any sort of consideration, hardly worth the wait.

The best thing about the show, in fact, is the sublimely subtle and funny poster art (above). If only the series offered anything quite as clever. The product of, first, the book by Thomas Harris, and then the series of several movies based upon said work, the current TV series -- "created" and often written by Bryan Fuller (shown at left) -- mistakes, among other things, pomposity and pretension for art. I am not sure I have ever had to sit through so much mindless repetition, zombie-like performances (from otherwise very good actors) and ludicrous plotting -- simply for the "payoff" of a few visually interesting moments (usually devoted to bizarre murders). This, as I am occasionally goosed into saying, constitutes fart masquerading as art.

If I complain too loudly, it might be because I was primed to watch something really special, as both my spouse and a good friend upstate raved non-stop about this show. However, both of them watched Hannibal episode by episode, with a week (or sometimes more) in between. I mini-binge-watched the entire first 13-episode season in three and one-half days. Big mistake. The incredibly obnoxious repetition inherent in these roughly 43-minute-long chapters becomes way too obvious, way too fast, when seen back to back to back. Waiting a week between them could only have helped matters.

At one point along the way -- I think it might have been episode 6 or 8, I said aloud to no one in particular, "If we have to see Will (the character played by Hugh Dancy, above) imagine that he's killing that girl (Casey Rohl, below) just one more time...." And then we do. Oh, yes: There is also the little matter of Will's constant nightmares, which we see over and over again. We get the point, OK? No matter, because they're determined to show it to us again. And then again. Just for good measure. (Maybe, in that week that passed between television episodes, most Americans forgot that our Will was "troubled" and so needed another gentle reminder.)

The show is also ludicrous, in that its fevered imagination regarding serial killers and their increasingly bizarre ways of stockpiling their victims -- creating a "garden" or building a "totem pole" -- brings to mind the observation recently offered by one wag: "There are more serial killers loose in a single season of American television than there have been in the entire history of the country."

What is the point here, then? Simply to add more style, blood and bizarre mental states to the already bulging serial killer lexicon -- with all this done at the expense of any remote believability. Really: Would Will's many dogs let a perfect stranger hide under his bed without first making a fuss or warning the guy about his visitor? Of course not. And why is there never any police protection when this is most obviously needed? Oh, well.

The series thinks it is tackling stuff like "identity" and "personality dissolution," but the dialog regarding all this proves lame and expository, while the performances, especially of its stars Dancy and Mads Mikkelsen, are mostly one-note. Mikkelsen (above), perhaps for the first time in his storied career, is charmless and consistently flat, whether he is cooking up a gourmet meal (shown a few photos above) or taking care of a recalcitrant patient (Dan Fogler, below). Dancy, on the other hand, is forever threatening to go over-the-top and always in the same tiresome manner. (See the latter's fine film Adam in which he also plays -- but to much better result -- a character suffering from Asperger's Syndrome.)

Granted, half the cast is playing some form of therapist or psychologist, but this is hardly an excuse for zombie-like performances that seem to lower the bar for "low-key" all the way to the floor. Even Gillian Anderson, playing Hannibal's own shrink, gets stuck in this arty and pretentious attitude, and the less said about poor Laurence Fishburne (below, who plays the FBI boss), the better. His character makes no sense whatsoever. When he finally, very late in the game, tells Dancy, "You've got to take better care of yourself!" you'll want to kick this poorly conceived character down the stairs.

But that's OK. Around this same time, the series hits another of its high marks: torture porn. The situations here may be fantastical and amazing, but on a moment-to-moment level, they often defy simple credibility: If Dr. Gideon (Eddie Izzard) can so easily escape from an armored prison truck, how can he then be captured by the sick, weak and (by this time) mentally ill Will? Don't ask, as the series -- so in-your-face regarding its nasty, ugly acts of killing -- proves awfully circumspect regarding exactly how so many of these and other actions get done.

The final episode is surely the stupidest, with dialog and situations so over-baked and over-repeated (from earlier episodes) that you'll cringe. Of all the performances here, the best one comes from a  young actress named Lara Jean Chorostecki (below), who plays the tabloid reporter Freddie Lounds and who, amongst the rest of these near-zombies, brings so much fiery energy and intelligence to her role that she often single-handedly gooses the series into a bit of life. (The best line in the entire first season belongs to Ms Chorostecki and has to do with the kind of people who might make good serial killers.)

Hannibal, produced in part by, of all companies, the historic French firm Gaumont, having just completed its third season -- you can view the first two via Amazon Instant Video: (Amazon Prime members can watch for free) -- is now set for a fourth. Count me out, but maybe you'll have better luck. Especially if you don't binge-watch.

Zachary Donohue's THE DEN: a movie that on-the-run video and found-footage were made for

If ever an idea and its execution -- via today's anyone-can-make-a-cheap-video philosophy -- resulted in the perfect marriage, it's THE DEN: a genuinely involving, horrendously creepy and all-too-believable horror film that profits hugely from its on-the-run look. So involving, in fact, is this little movie, directed and co-written (with Lauren Thompson) by newcomer Zachary Donohue, that yours truly forgot to take a single note during its unfurling and so must rely on his fading memory of the evening several months back when he and his spouse watched it.

Now available via Netflix streaming, the film should not be passed up by anyone interested in this genre nor by any young filmmakers looking to learn just what can be accomplished inexpensively and very well via sharp writing and editing, committed performances, and direction and pacing (by Mr. Donohue, shown at right) that is almost always on the mark. I cannot tell you how many movies of this ilk, beginning with the grossly over-rated Blair Witch Project, I've had to sit through, angry and bored, to finally discover one that works this well, while using all the usual stuff -- computers, cameras (hand-held, security and computer-embedded), the Internet, sex and slashing -- but using it with speed and smarts.

The basic plot has to do with a young woman named Elizabeth (Melanie Papalia, above and below), who wants to tackle -- as her graduate project, I believe -- a study of the habits of webcam chat users. Well, why not? We're in the modern age, and so we need to know what kind of world all this "Internet distancing" is producing.

Once Elizabeth gets the go-ahead, she either stumbles upon (or is set up to do this) a site called DenChat.com and then to a murder seen on video, and when she attempts to alert the authorities, the killer targets not just her but her lover and friends. Nasty.

Soon we realize that Elizabeth (along with her computer and her home) has been thoroughly compromised, and as the net tightens around her, the suspense and chills maximize.

In just 81 minutes (the same length of Blair Witch), the filmmaker keeps us glued with hardly a frame that is not used wisely and well.  By the finale, you'll have been put in mind of a number of other movies (especially, I think, Demonlover), yet The Den should prove memorable in its own right.

From IFC Films and available on DVD, the movie can also be streamed now via Netflix and elsewhere.

Streaming Vincenzo Natali's latest scare flick: HAUNTER, with a well-used Abigail Breslin

TrustMovies has greatly enjoyed the half-dozen films by Vincenzo Natali that he's so far seen, so viewing HAUNTER, which received highly mixed notices from critics and audiences, was still a shoo-in. Sure enough, Natali and his writer Brian King take a bunch of much-used terror tropes and ghost goings-on but bounce them around creatively until they come out rather fresh. The movie will bring to mind The Others, Groundhog Day, the Amityvilles and another half-dozen well-trod tales but still manages to become its own special story as it moves interestingly along.

Natali, shown at left, has always had a smart visual sense combined with an enjoyment of fun and games, all of which is put to use here. He begins his film with the ever-involving what's-going-on-here? scenario and then allows us to find out -- but only partially. The movie keeps unfolding its secrets slowly and quietly.

As its star, the filmmaker has chosen Abigail Breslin (below), a smart young actress who seems willing to try various genres and roles within them, usually to good effect. Here she brings that intelligence coupled with typical teen-age annoyance (at parents and younger sibling) to the table and plays it for both humor and, later, drama and scares.

As her adversary, the well-worn Stephen McHattie (below, from the succulent Pontypool) is also a fine choice -- even scarier here than he usually is. The pair become a good example of well-matched antagonists of the horror genre.

While all of this proves interesting enough as it unfolds, there do seem to be some rough edges in terms of what, why and how. Natali elides these as best he can, so that we move along, questioning only lightly and momentarily until the next surprise/thrill occurs.

Basically the plot has us stuck in a house -- yes, it's dark and foggy outside, but relatively warm and friendly inside -- as we slowly come up against present, past and further past, as our heroine tries to prevent a serial killer from striking again. That's about as much as you need to know. So sit back, relax and enjoy Mr. Natali's nice visuals and the good job his cast does with the all-over-the-place plot.

Haunter, from IFC Midnight and running just a tad long at 97 minutes, streams now on Netflix, and also on Amazon Instant Video and elsewhere -- and can also be seen via DVD.

Allan Cubitt & Jakob Verbruggen's THE FALL offers some very dark goings-on in Belfast

Made for British and American television and first aired in both places (as well as Ireland and Israel) this past May, THE FALL (not to be confused with the wonderful film by Tarsem Singh) was executive-produced by its star Gillian Anderson and gives her one of her choice roles of late (certainly much better than her truncated appearance in last year's Shadow Dancer). Due to a recent casting fluke, however, what the series suddenly does is provide an up-close-and-personal look at the work of one, Jamie Dornan, who just bumped Charlie Hunnam from the title role in the upcoming, would-be sex blockbuster, Fifty Shades of Grey.

I wager most Americans will not previously have heard of Mr. Dornan (I certainly had not), and though Mr. Hunnam (a fine and versatile actor) was no household word, he was more of a known quantity than Dornan. (But, according to my daughter, Hunnam just didn't properly fit the physical characteristics of the Christian Grey character.)

In The Fall, which tells-- in five nearly hour-long episodes -- the tale of a family man/serial killer named Paul Spector (Dornan) and the crack investigator, Stella Gibson (Anderson) who has been brought in to help catch him, the emphasis surprisingly enough is on the murderer. We learn a hell of a lot more about Paul and his life than we do about Stella and hers -- which makes this series -- created and written by Allan Cubitt (above) and

directed by Jakob Verbruggen (shown at left) -- seem to me both a little lop-sided and an odd choice for an actress of Ms Anderson's caliber to have helped bankroll. While this eventually throws the series off balance, it certainly allows us to sink deep into the cesspool of Paul's sick thoughts and actions. (Considering that sinking, director Verbruggen favors an awful lot of overhead shots in which we look directly down, god-like, on our sad slice of humanity.)

I would guess that a series such as our own cable TV's Dexter has influenced The Fall, even if that serial killer comes across as at least partially heroic, since he kills other serial killers, while our boy here offs only innocent young women. (Though, in his mind, from the little we're allowed inside it, these gals are somehow guilty. Of something or other. And, yes, you can expect a little Friedrich Nietzsche tossed into the mix.)

Ms Anderson, above and top, is a fine actress. (If you've never caught her performance in Terence Davies' adaptation of The House of Mirth, you're missing something deep and wonderful.) Here, though, her Stella seems to exist primarily to score feminist points. While her take-down of one of her superiors (who seems bent on making her feel bad for not asking in advance if the policeman she decided to have sex with was married) is smartly written, it is also more of the mostly one-note characterization Cubitt has provided Stella, who besides swimming, fucking and mostly investigating (the latter quite well), has little inner life.

Paul, on the other hand, is given plenty of inner life, though most of it seems at odds with his outer version, and while we rarely get this close to a serial killer in movies or TV (would we want to, unless we're doing it for professional reasons?), I didn't always buy what I was seeing and hearing. Still, Mr. Dornan (above and below) makes a fine leading man, moment-to-moment believable and sexy as all hell.

The series offers an always interesting back and forth between perpetrator and investigator, and considering how very dark it is, Cubitt and Verbruggen do not unduly rub our noses in the violence and killing. There is a fair sub-plot involving the town's major Capitalist, a "bought" and therefore compromised police force, and the usual hookers-and-drugs number. Nothing much comes of any of this -- neither the sub-plot nor the major one -- and this is most likely to the series' great benefit.

In its refusal to give us closure on anything at all, it is more real that most of its ilk. Mainstream audiences will turn away angry because of this, but those with a taste for reality -- if not so much in the details as in the overall concept and conclusion -- will go away happily depressed. (That's Laura Donnelly as one of our boy's lovely victims, above.)

The Fall can be seen now via Netflix streaming or on DVD.