Netflixable? Striking but daffy Brazilian B-Western “O Matador” aka “The Killer” repulses and perplexes


The brute simplicity of “O Matador/The Killer” makes it feel like an over-budgeted student film, at times.

This Brazilian B-Western as has a striking, alien setting — the desert lands of Pernambuco — and the story and style of storytelling are downright primitive.

But don’t go into it with the idea that you’ve found the font from which the next “Spaghetti Westerns”  will spring from. The acting is soap operatic, the action is sluggish and static and even the sound effects rob the shoot-outs — murders, actually, as most of the protagonists are hired killers of the Brazil of the 1910s to 1940s — sound like popguns.

And the story? So many characters, threads, murder after murder in a lawless land, endless parenthetical victims, killers, killer’s bosses, hookers and the like.

There’s even a pause for a duet, sung by a town boss (Etienne Chicot) and his wife (Maria de Medeiros), in FRENCH no less.

Hell, I’ll watch anything with horses and bad hombres (“Homa mal” in Portuguese). But this? Crikey.

It’s sort of an “Outlaw Josie Wales” tale, about Cabeleira, a foundling plucked from the desert by Seven Ears and raised to hunt, survive and kill.

Until that day Seven Ears (Deto Montenegro) doesn’t come back from “The City of Men,” which is actually a village. That’s when the unnamed foundling comes to town, comes to call himself Cabeleira, and comes to have a taste for the coin of the realm for killers in these parts in these hard times — gemstones.

Cabeleira (Diogo Morgado of the recent faith-based film “Son of God”) becomes a killer for hire, shooting and outsmarting the likes of Dry Mouth, The Peruvian, The Gringo, Sobral and The Monkeys. Head shots, tongue-cuttings and rapes abound. The film’s treatment of women is so retrograde as to be hateful and misogynistic to North American eyes.


The entire tale is told by a cowboy taken by surprise by two bad hombres (Homens maus), a lazy framing device that leads to lots of voice over narration, which doesn’t really make the story move any faster or more sensibly.

If you’re going to watch it, take the time change your Netflix settings to endure it with subtitles. I tried a half hour of the dubbed version and it is excruciating. The dubbing is done by the most sissy-voiced Portuguese speakers available, so in order to take this the least bit seriously you’ve got to watch it with subtitles.

I could see a Western working in this setting, maybe even with this star (Morgado as screen presence). But “The Killer” or “O Matador” if you prefer, is a bit woebegone, grim going pretty much from start to finish.


MPAA Rating: graphic violence, much of it directed against women, explicit sex

Cast: Diogo Mordado, EtienneThais Cabral, Etiene Chicot, Will Roberts, Deto Montenegro

Credits: Written and directed by Marcelo Galvão. A Netflix release.

Running time: 1:39



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Preview, another version of the fantastical Escape from Devil’s Island tale, “Papillon”

My favorite book as a teen was “Papillon,” written ex-con Henri Charriere detailing his years in the French penal colonies of South America — French Guiana and Devil’s Island off its coast.

Nicknamed “Papillon,” French for “butterfly,” after a tattoo on his chest, he repeatedly escaped from these inescapable hells, endured the unendurable, found a little piece of paradise and “escaped” that, too.

And lived to tell the tale and write a best seller about it. I must have read the damned thing five-10 times. The 1973 big screen version starred Steve McQueen and Dustin Hoffman, and wasn’t bad. Just epic enough.

As you can see from the Wikipedia entry, the book is now called an “autobiographical novel.” He borrowed adventures from some, made others up. Barely true enough is my guess about its veracity.

Bleecker Street is advertising this remake as “the incredible true story,” but Charriere’s tale was widely discredited shortly after it came out, and more thoroughly in the decades since.

Still, a ripping good “yarn,” and Charlie Hunnam and Rami Malek make an interesting pairing. No McQueen/Hoffman, but they’ll do. Danish director Michael Noer isn’t the most experienced hand at feature film directing.

It’s being dumped at the end of August, sadly. And this is Bleecker St., after all, which “couldn’t market merlot to a wino.” But might be worth hunting down right around Labor Day. If it’s still in theaters.

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Movie Review: Plummer pins the “cute” meter as an aged dad with few “Boundaries”


Is there an actor in the history of film who’s enjoyed a better third act in his career than Christopher Plummer?

Rhetorical question, of course there hasn’t. An Oscar, his choice among all the roles available to actors of his vintage able to deftly manage curmudgeon, eminence grise or guff, cuddly codger, he’s constantly employed and always a pleasure to watch.

In “Boundaries,” he lights up a seriously lightweight road trip farce, playing the aged hippy pot dealer who passed on his “issues” to a semi-manic self-diagnosed neurotic single-mom (Vera Farmiga) and her “weird” passive-aggressive teen (Lewis MacDougall).

Laurie set an alarm as her phone ringtone from her father, alerting her that these are the calls she’s not going to answer. And he calls. A lot.

“He has a condition,” is all she’ll tell her shrink. So she won’t talk to him, avoiding bringing back up “years of disappointment.”

“You set boundaries,” the therapist is relieved to hear. Then she spies the kitten in Laurie’s purse.

“I thought you weren’t going to pick up any more strays this month?”

Laurie has a “condition,” too. She’s filled her house with stray dogs and cats, covering the bed, rubbing themselves over whoever’s sleeping with her and driving them away.

Which suits her sullen son Henry (MacDougall, of “A Monster Calls”). He has a tendency to draw anatomically insulting nudes of whoever he doesn’t like — mom’s beaus, teachers at school. He’s “special” and they kick him out after one incident too many.

And mom’s ditzy rich employer — she’s an “executive assistant” — is no help. Maybe it’s time to listen to her sweetly flaky LA sister (Kristen Schaal, of course) and take the Old Man’s calls. Because whatever retirement home he’s being kicked out of this time, Jack Jaconi always has money.

“My side venture” sees to that. But hell, pot’s being legalized here, there and everywhere. “Takes all of the fun out of it.” He’ll go stay with Laurie. No? Her sister, then. And not by plane. That’d force him to leave behind is ancient Rolls Royce (A gold 1970s Silver Shadow, maybe?).

And that would deprive the “dying” old man the chance to bond with daughter and “accomplice” grandson, and this Shana Feste (“Country Strong,” “Endless Love”) road picture of its road.

Funny thing about that, “Boundaries” was filmed mostly in and around Vancouver. So all the stops they make along the way — wouldn’t be a road picture without Jack insisting on “detours,” to catch up with old pothead pals (Christopher Lloyd), Buddhist retreat customers and Laurie’s ex (Bobby Cannavale) — are in ports, coastal evergreen forests and the like. They don’t ID the locations because it looks like a 20 hour drive down to LA on the map. That would make this a 50 minute movie.

“Cross country” they call it, and that’ll have to do.

Jack cutely explains his livelihood to the kid with a “Your grandfather’s got a green thumb.”

The wary kid makes a “cute” cutting crack about how he’s “too old to molest.” The old man isn’t offended.

“You couldn’t get molested with a bow in your hair!”

We suspect the old coot is lying about not having “much time life.” And we, like the writer-director, have a hard time getting a handle on Laurie’s manic personality, her bizarre connection to her on-the-spectrum ex (Cannavale), though her need to create “family” by filling her life with strays earns the Psychology 101 treatment. Critters approach her at gas stations, etc., all along the route, drawn to her by instinct and plot device.

“You’re like the Pied Piper of mange!” the old man chortles.

The dialogue and performances are far more interesting than the lazy, cliche-ridden story Feste cooked up.

The kid character is underdeveloped, Farmiga’s Laurie is like a needs-help/gets-help/self-help caricature.

But Plummer’s ready twinkle makes “Boundaries” (June 22) go down easily, even if he’s old enough to be Farmiga’s granddad, even if Lloyd is the more on-the-nose casting choice if you’re looking for a ’60s stoner in his dotage.

Feste may be building a career out of reaching for sentimental, easy laughs and tugs on the heartstrings. But even she knows that would have been too on-the-nose.


MPAA Rating: R (for drug material, language, some sexual references and nude sketches)

Cast: Vera Farmiga, Christopher Plummer, Lewis MacDougall, Kristen Schaal, Bobby Cannavale

Credits: Written and directed by Shana Feste. A Sony Pictures Classics release.

Running time: 1:44

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Movie Review: Tragedy, heartbreak, education and a colorful life help “Mary Shelley” create Frankenstein


God help me, but I’m a sucker for a good literary screen biography, and the more period perfect the better.

The likes of “Becoming Jane,” “Shakespeare in Love” and “The Last Station” might live by formula, a “this inspired that” conceit. But if it’s done with style and a little whimsy, I’m there.

“Mary Shelley” is in essence “Becoming Frankenstein,” the story of how a British teen had the education, talent, life experience and literary ambitions thanks to the salon she was a part of, to create one of the seminal novels in the history of horror.

The luminous Elle Fanning plays Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin, a morbid, writerly teen raised by a free-thinking father, whose scandalized proto-feminist mother died when she was born. Dad (Stephen Dillane) educated her and taught her that “to love reading is to have everything within yourary uses that as an excuse to goof off, reading ghost stories in the cemetery were her mother is buried. “I was the one who killed her, after all.” Her siblings revel in it, but stepmum (Joanne Froggatt of “Downton Abbey”) does not approve.

Being sent off to stay with relatives in Scotland only encourages her ambitions, and exposes her to the sort of scandal her parents used to create. She falls in love with the poet Percy Bysshe Shelley (Douglas Booth of “Romeo & Juliet”). He’s forward, and she, even at sixteen, gives as good as she gets.

“Just how old ARE you, then?”

“Old enough to know why you’re asking.”

The affair is torrid, by the PG-13 standards of Austenesque Georgian Britain. Only meeting the man’s wife puts a damper on things, and that is but temporary.

They’ve met and discounted the talents of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, but when actress-sister Claire (Bel Powley) tumbles for the tippling wit Lord Byron (Tom Sturridge of “Far from the Madding Crowd”), they’re off to Switzerland to absorb the mercurial man’s attention and challenge one another, during a rainy spell, to write a really good “ghost story.”

“There are witches in the wind,” the high-born drunk purrs.


Saudi filmmaker Haifaa Al-Mansour revels in the costumes, the cast and the words so much that “Mary Shelley” loses the sense of forward motion, here and there. But she gives Fanning’s Mary time to absorb the body-blows of a lost baby and a feckless mate, which she expresses in Austenesque sarcasm to Percy, who wishes she was as into swinging 1810s Britain and free love as he is.

“Are you not cold?”

“My hypocrisy keeps me warm,” she sneers, “as does my cloak of disappointment.”

Booth makes a splendid Percy, Dillane (“The Hours,” “Game of Thrones”) a believably reluctant-to-judge but disapproving father and Sturridge a reasonable facsimile of the dissolute intellectual brute Byron.

Fanning merely as to hold her own with this lot, and after an opening voice-over that sounds like a British accent lesson run amuk — “The DE-mon cahst his buhnning STAHR upon huh” — settles into a marvelously period-perfect woman with education, ambition and the talent to be affronted that no one will believe a woman, much less one of her tender years, could write a tale so horrific and layered.

It’s not as brisk or funny as the best films of the genre, reasonably romantic but never quite as heartbreaking as you’d hope. But “Mary Shelley” renews our acquaintance with an important writer and the world who molded her, and adds even more range to the collection of characters Fanning — The next Saorise or Mia Warsikowska? — can pull off.


MPAA Rating: PG-13 for sexuality and thematic elements including substance abuse

Cast: Elle Fanning, Douglas Booth, Tom Sturridge, Bel Powley, Stephen Dillane, Joanne Froggatt

Credits:Directed by Haifaa Al-Mansour, script by Emma Jensen and Haifaa Al-Mansour. An IFC release.

Running time: 2:00

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So who does this new Han Solo remind you of?

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“A Star Wars Story” — Greedo, is that you?

Is the Han Solo stand-alone storyline re-opening an old George Lucas recut and messed up “A New Hope” debate?

Maybe. Probably.

And is one character from that debated scene glimpsed in the climactic brawl?



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Movie Review: Can “Star Wars” fly “Solo”?


So much for the hope that the back-engineered “prequels” in the “Star Wars” universe would rescue these space operas from the bloat and boredom that J.J. Abrams and friends have given them.

“Solo: A Star Wars Story” is a two hour and fifteen minute salvage job, with director Ron Howard coming in to add a little life and a few laughs to whatever original directors Phil Lord and Chris Miller (“22 Jump Street,” “Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs”) struggled to provide.

And the answer to that is “not enough.” The damage had already been done, mostly with casting, and entrusting the script to Hollywood nepotism, the great has-been Lawrence Kasdan (“Raiders of the Lost Ark,” etc.) and his actor-turned-not-very-good-writer son, Jonathan.

Alden Ehrenreich (“Hail, Caesar!”) is the young Han Solo in this origin tale, suggesting not so much a young, tall and hunky Harrison Ford but a young, short, grinning-until-his-eyes-squint-shut Jon Cryer or Ethan Embry.  From his first moment, his first line in the picture, he’s off.

Han is enslaved on the shipyard planet Corellia, declaring himself a pilot and trying to swipe and hustle up enough cash to get him and his smarter (as usual) girlfriend Qi’ra pronounced Kyra (Emilia Clarke) free. He’s a bit bruised up, and she’s concerned.

“You should SEE them,” Ehrenreich brags, implying “You should see the OTHER guys,” and totally hitting the line-emphasis wrong.

It happens again and again in Ehrenreich’s clumsy, nebbishy, chuckle-headed take on the future swashbuckler Han Solo. Because, apparently, there are no re-takes in spaces.

We see how Han got his surname (all alone in the cosmos, no family, he’s an Imperial recruit). We watch him meet Chewbacca, a hilarious scene reminiscent of Luke’s tangles with assorted beasts in assorted arenas in the original trilogy, and a big joke moment from “Thor Ragnarok.”

And we’re there the night he meets “ol’pal” Lando Calrissian (Donald Glover), elaborately described as a “retired” smuggler, “sophisticated,” “charismatic” “and attractive, too.”

Billy Dee Williams’ ears must be burning, even though they left out “sauve” and “debonair” from that standard-description of Williams in general, and the character he first made famous. Glover is mostly up to the task, suggesting a worldly card player who gambles with his ship at Intergalactic poker and his life as “the Kessel Run” with Han.

Han is separated from his first love, Qi’ra, and takes up with his second, the Millenium Falcon, to win her freedom from the Crimson Dawn gangster Dryden Vos, played by Paul Bettany as more whimsical and mercurial than menacing. He’s just…wrong.

The casting they nailed is giving Woody Harrelson the role of a pistol-twirling smuggler and thief named Tobias Beckett, and making the smart and sexy Thandie Newton his demo expert, second-in-command lover. But let’s screw up the gang with a four-armed digital frog thingy who acts and sounds (Jon Favreau did the voice) like a PG version of Rocket Raccoon from “Guardians of the Galaxy.”

It’s not stealing if it’s all under the Disney umbrella, kids.

The gang has to slip the clutches of the just-expanding Empire, outsmart the Hyperfuel mine owners and shippers, pull off a train heist and evade the “Marauders” bent on stealing from them them as they do.

On the plus side, the diverse cast feels organic and not forced into the “universe,” no Death Stars, no light saber duels, no “Force” and no original cast members were harmed in the making of this. Original characters’ legacies, on the other hand, take a bit of a licking.

It’s an underlit picture dominated by gloomy, shadowy visuals, visceral fights and shoot-outs and what feels and sounds like dialogue from a TV quickie “prequel” cranked out for The Disney Channel. This is the least quotable “Star Wars” movie ever.

Clarke, of “Game of Thrones,” is Qi’ra, here to sex up this spin in “A galaxy far, far away.” She has little chemistry with Ehrenreich, none of the heat that was called for and none of the adult pathos and passion that Harrison Ford and Carrie Fisher brought to their PG love scenes, way back when.

The chases are same-old/same-old involving the Falcon, Tie Fighters and some space phenomenon that isn’t the asteroid or debris fields of early “Star Wars” movies. The picture opens with a dull surface-speeder pursuit that doesn’t raise the pulse-rate at all.

There are more card games than “Battle Bots” competitions (look for Ron Howard’s brother Clint, there), more filler Falcon flying sequences than moments where anybody seems in genuine peril.

The stakes, gravitas, wit and great actors demonstrating great acting of “Rogue One,” the best of these new LucasFilms, are sorely missed.

A couple of times, Howard gets things to play as giddy — that first Han/Chewie encounter, a climax built around the sass of the newest robot character L3, a ferrous feminist voiced by Phoebe Waller-Bridge. And it’s always interesting, visually, seeing the exotic settings, exotic costumes and tech of this universe. Visiting Lando’s cape closet is a hoot.


The rest of the time the accountants, Disney and Howard himself seemed to say, “OK, we’ve achieved adequate,” which gives the viewer a sense of relief that it’s not worse. Since we aren’t seeing the original directors’ vision, just their (and J.J. Abrams’ casting), we can only guess how bad things were going beforehand.

But “adequate” is not what we want or expect from a “Star Wars” story.


MPAA Rating: PG-13 for sequences of sci-fi action/violence

Cast:Alden Ehrenreich, Donald Glover, Emilia Clarke, Wood Harrelson, Thandie Newton, paul Bettany

Credits:Directed by Ron Howard, script by Jonathan Kasdan, Lawrence Kasdan. A Disney/Lucasfilms release.

Running time:  2:15

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Preview, “Shock and Awe” gets at the journalism that unraveled the Bush Big Lie

It’s about the run-up to the Iraq invasion, it stars Tommy Lee Jones, Jessica Biel, Milla Jovovich, James Marsden, Woody Harrelson and Rob Reiner, who also directed it.

Yes, Reiner’s an outspoken liberal and thus a critic of Bush and his ilk. And no, he’s not really a filmmaking heavyweight any more. Vertical Entertainment is not one of the major studios.

But there are names here, and it’s a journalism tale that seems theatrical. Maybe. Just a bit.

July 13, we find out if that’s true. 


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Netflixable? Freeman headlines “Cargo,” a downbeat Down Under Zombie Odyssey


Et tu, Netflix?

Here I am, trying to track down “The Quiller Memorandum,” and you don’t have the rights/bandwidth capacity to be the World’s Greatest Repository of 100 years of Feature Films. But you’re spending money on another GD zombie movie?

That’s all “Cargo” is. We’ve seen scores of variations of this tale, a family avoiding “the infected,” this time in Australia’s Outback, making fateful, sacrificial choices when the infection gets into the family.

Zombies even have their own soap opera on TV, “The Walking/Boring Dead.” Shot in Georgia. Australia, at least, is photogenic.

It’s a road picture, like “The Road,” with Martin Freeman playing the heroic dad who tries to get his toddler into the hands of somebody “still people” after his wife dies and he fears the worst in himself.

Speaking of Australian journey-quest narratives, why isn’t “Rabbit-Proof Fence,” a near-masterpiece, on Netflix? Or “Walkabout?” Never mind.

“Cargo” takes Freeman, as Andy, down the remote rivers, scavenging to provide for wife Kay (Susie Porter) and baby Rosie, until that day Kay is bitten. It’s the Even More post-Apocalyptic Every Man for Himself Future that’s replaced the post Apocalyptic Every Man for Himself present, so even the happy family family you see celebrating a birthday ashore has a gun-brandishing “Move ALONG, stranger” demeanor.

That’s OK. Maybe a croc or something bit Kay.

“It had FINGERS, Andy!”

With every bite, we reset the 48 hour clock before the zombie turns. It’s a FitBit countdown. And so we’ve got another ticking clock zombie thriller where you try to save the uninfected and Civilization Itself before the infected one is lost.

Kay gets the stakes and is resigned to what is coming. Andy? He wants to find a town, and a hospital. As if there’s any hope of either of those in “Road Warrior with Zombies Land.

He meets a former teacher (Kris McQuade), an aboriginal girl (Simone Landers) still feeding captured game to his zombie dad, and a survivalist (Anthony Hayes) and his ladyfriend (Caren Pistorious) who show just how low humanity will sink, and how fast, when everything breaks down.

Except for the One Truck to Survive the Apocalypse, as seen in SO Many Movies — 1990s vintage Jeep Cherokees. Hey, I drove two of them over 200,000 miles. I agree with that cliche.


The Aboriginal “old ways” are celebrated, in that patronizing way movies have of indulging indigenous patois, closeness to nature and Native People are Magic ethos.

Freeman gives a little something to moments of angst. But seriously. Yawn.

It’s a movie so familiar in its tropes, storybeats and dialogue that it feels like a half-forgotten picture or TV show you’ve already seen. The makeup is often “Walking Dead” mediocre.

If you’re watching it, why? If you’re reading this, consider yourself warned.

And if you work for Netflix, seriously, “Rabbit Proof Fence.” There’s a whole world of truly “original” cinema that no one saw in theaters and most have missed on Netflix. Maybe stick to trying teen comedies. At least that’s a niche nobody else is flooding the market with.


MPAA Rating: unrated, graphic, bloody violence, disturbing images.

Cast: Martin Freeman, Susie Parker, Simone Landers, Anthony Hayes, Caren Pistorius, Kris McQuade

Credits:Directed by Ben HowlingYolanda Ramke script by Yolanda Ramke. A Netflix release.

Running time: 1:44




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Movie Review: Dormer is at her fiercest “In Darkness”


First impressions matter, and Natalie Dormer’s was a corker.

The British bombshell first gained notice as Anne Boleyn in TV’s “The Tudors,”  insatiable, scheming, the encyclopedic picture of “man eater.”

It’s an image that’s followed her, for good or ill, ever since. Rare is the film where a Dormer appearance doesn’t involve her fixing her wide blue eyes into “FETCH” mode, and whatever man falls under her gaze, be he racing driver James Hunt (“Rush”) or Captain America, cannot resist, even if he senses the spider’s web she weaves.

She toys with that ferocious baggage in the thriller “In Darkness,” dialing down the allure as a blind London film score pianist, all demure attire, independence and solitude. But something tells us there’s more to this woman than “victim,” when she comes under threat after her neighbor (tabloid and gossip-site queen Emily Ratjakowski) dies.

Dormer co-wrote the script for this overly-complicated tale of war crimes, trauma and seeing both the menace of being hunted and the obstacles of everyday London life through the eyes of the blind.

Irish-born TV director Anthony Byrne (“Mr. Selfridge,” “Ripper Street,” “Peaky Blinders”) co-wrote the script and makes this a tale told with images, extreme close-ups of clues, faces, hazards and violence. We “see” what Sofia (Dormer) cannot. But her London flat’s poor soundproofing lets her “see” the arguments going on upstairs, and when her Serbian neighbor (Ratjakowski) falls to her death.

The too-chatty Detective/Inspector (Neil Maskell) asks her the commonly held misconception that movies about the blind are all built upon.

“Is it true that the loss of one sense sharpens the others?”

Sofia won’t confirm that, but we sense her overhearing conversations, picking up on the dead woman’s perfume, making her way even when she’s forced to exit the London Underground at an unfamiliar station.

And we hear the gun-metal CLACK/CLICK of her unfolding her seeing-eye cane, a woman with purpose and spine and an agenda of her own.

There’s a man following her (Ed Skrein of “The Transporter Refueled” and “Kill Your Friends”). Whatever the dead neighbor had, he wants it. Whatever happened to her, he’s involved. And he’s under the thumb of somebody even more ruthless (Joely Richardson).

But he cannot let anything happen to her until he’s got that Hitchcockian “MacGuffin.” 


And then there’s the dead neighbor’s father, an alleged Serbian war criminal (Jan Bijvoet), constantly on the news, fighting extradition and street protesters who want him to face justice.

“In Darkness” is a puzzle picture that keeps adding twists, some of which are smartly foreshadowed, others that come out of the blue. It’s a film that could have been better served had it stopped at “just smart enough.” But Byrne keeps the tension up and the camera tight on Dormer, who lets us see the wheels turning in Sofia’s “dead stare,” and suggests there are cards she’s hiding, cards she has yet to play.

One tasty moment transpires in a women’s restroom, answering the question “How do the blind always keep their hair, clothes and makeup so perfect in the movies?”

Sofia asks the (supposedly unknown to her) villainess (Richardson), “How do I look?”

“Like a Million dollars!”

“Nice shoes,” the blind-woman cracks back to her rival, prompting the viewer to match Richardson’s demonic cackle, note for note.

There have been many better movies that set out to show us how the blind see the world — the thriller “Blink,” and the drama “Blindness,” come to mind. And there are so many twists here that they get in the way of each other, diluting the logic of this possible outcome, or that one.

But Dormer locks our attention in, and makes us root for Sofia, whatever her motives might be.

It’s just that we know, from the moment we see her, what those poor menfolk sharing the screen do not. There’s a meal coming up, and the maneater always locks eyes on the main course.


MPAA Rating: unrated, graphic violence, explicit sexual content

Cast: Natalie Dormer, Ed Skein, Emily Ratajkowski, Jan Bijvoet, Neil Maskell and Joely Richardson

Credits:Directed by Anthony Byrne, script by Anthony Byrne and Natalie Dormer. A Vertical release.

Running time: 1:41

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