Movie Review: “A Long Walk” on the Road to Nowhere

It doesn’t do “The Long Walk” any favors slapping the previews to the remake of “The Running Man” on before the opening credits. “Walk” is “Running” without the running or the amped-up game show “entertainment” elements.

The title and the trailers give away the whole derivative story — a dog-eat-dog “Hunger Game/Maze Runner” on foot, contestants walking until they falter and are summarily executed by The State, fifty young men marching hundreds of miles until all but one drop.

The subtexts to all this, the real nature of “a draft,” which is how the contestants are chosen (young men selected for “sacrifice”), a nation splintered after a second civil war, in need of healing, the violence and hatred that must be overcome to unite us against a common enemy, are opaque. The character arcs are dull.

It’s a chatty film, where a group of the lads bond, share and do everything but sing “Kumbaya” on their death mark, and director Francis Lawrence and screenwriter JT Mollner do little save for bursts of violence and a flashback to animate it.

“Boy, I would KILL for a foot massage right now.”

The performances aren’t generally bad. They’re limited by the story and working conditions.

Young actors walking and talking, even if they typically turn fatigued or injured enough to merit execution rather abruptly — as opposed to steadily weakening and collapsing — isn’t the best way to deliver pages and pages and pages of dialogue. Endless words and even whole sentences are lost in the effort to briskly walk and thoughtfully talk.

But kudos to Mark Hamill for managing his best Michael Ironside as the heartless “Major” who reiterates the rules and barks out motivational pitches behind black aviator sunglasses from his open top armored vehicle.

“There is only one ‘winner’ and no ‘finish line.” It’ll take “courage, determination and ambition” to win it all, with the sole survivor earning a big cash prize and an all-encompassing “wish” granted to boot.

Judy Greer gets across the stakes in an opening scene where she drops off her only son, Raymond (Cooper Hoffman, son of Philip Seymour H.) at the Louisiana starting line. Fifty young men, one representing each state, have been “chosen,” and Raymond chose not to opt out.

He’s not in great shape, but he has his reasons for participating in this “patriotic” bloodsport. And Mom collapses in tears when the weight of the moment overcomes her.

Raymond is the “home state” boy in the field, theoretically knowing the terrain (it was actually shot in Canada) and used to the climate. His Mom can stop by the “race” to check on his progress, or if he’s survived the first hour, first night or first three days.

Philospher Raymond bonds with smart and sensible Peter (David Jonsson), and they connect with nerdy Hank (Ben Wang) and tall and thin Baker (Tyt Nyout). They’re the (four) “Three Musketeers,” urging each other on, propping each other up as ankles, legs, will and bowels give way and The Major and his escorting, guarding, executing and televising troopers “thin the herd.”

Barkovitch (Charlie Plummer) is a sadist, an emotional wreck into taunting others thanks to his own issues. Stebbins (Garrett Wareing) is the tall, thin and fit blond who seems like everybody’s safest best to win this thing. There’s a “sissy boy,” a kid who must have lied about his age to get in, a young guy (Jordan Gonzalez) who’d like to “write a book” about event “from the inside” and a Native American from Iowa (Joshua Odjick) who endures as a loner’s loner.

The characters are a veritable checklist of “types” given the color-blinding casting tratment. And the conversations flirt with the idea of being “about” something — a generational cry of “Nobody signed UP for this!” — but never quite amount to making a statement.

It’s about pliable, conformist young men at that heedless age when armies all over the world draft them into service. It’s about a future “Gen Z” trapped in a world of older generations’ making, and sacrificed for that. “Helpless” describes their resigned-to-their-fate state in a single word.

Horrific? Only in the eyes-averting gore and graphic death mark diarrhrea sense.

I couldn’t decide if the generic backdrops and endless conversations made this more suited to a podcast series, as Stephen King had good luck with some of his more dialogue-heavy books on radio in the ’80s, or whether “Long Walk” is just another 65 minute movie in a 105 minute package.

The resolution’s both predictable and perfunctory. “Unsatisfying” comes with the package, and that goes for the movie itself — lazy pop psychology, underdeveloped sociology and psychology and an allegory that never comes close to sticking the landing.

Rating: R, graphic violence, bodily functions and profanity

Cast: Cooper Hoffman, David Jonsson, Mark Hamill, Garrett Waering, Charlie Plummer, Ben Wang, Tut Nyout, Joshua Odjick and Judy Greer.

Credits: Directed by Francis Lawrence, scripted by JT Mollner, based on a novel by Stephen King. A Lionsgate release.

Running time: 1:48

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It’s “Downton” goes Downtown Time!

Where my cummerbund cosplayers at?

One last happy ending?

Because inherited wealth never ends and National Trust estates never turn to rubble in the Land of the Posh.

I do love being the youngest patron in the multiplex.

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“Most Obnoxious Moviegoers?” Here’s the Latest Poll

Moviegoing as an experience has had its rough periods of adjustment over the decades.

Audiences returning to the cinema in the ’70s and ’80s thanks to the Blockbuster era had to learn they weren’t in their den, where chattering about what was on TV was the rule. I spent most of the ’80s lecturing senior citizens and pissant teens about talking talking talking during movies.

Later, I took to tossing the caps from my cheap pens at yakkers, to the point where it got so I didn’t have a single note-taking pen with a clip on it.

And then the cell phone arrived and any semblence of courtesy for those around you went right out the door. Tossing pen caps or popcorn seemed futile. I distinctly remember a showing of “Boogie Nights” at the Beverly Center that was disrupted when a patron took a call, mid-movie, got screamed at and then sat slack-jawed as an enraged fellow moviegoer grabbed their cell and hurled it against the wall.

Any regular moviegoer knows that there are differences between audiences, even if sweeping generalizations can seem harder to back up when you actually crunch the numbers and measure them against your own experience.

Octane Seating is a movie seat seller-distributor that commissioned a poll for “most obnoxous moviegoers,” and other behavioral quirks of the broader cinema audience. Here’s what they found.

  • 34% say horror movies have the rowdiest crowds, while documentaries have the calmest.
  • 62% admit to intimacy in theaters, including 1 in 25 who’ve had sex.
  • 41% have yelled at someone during a movie (mostly over phones, chatter, or couples getting handsy).
  • 81% sneak food and drinks into movies.
  • 39% show up drunk or high (rising to 50% among Gen Z)
  • 21% have filmed another moviegoer to mock them, with some posting it online.
  • 1 in 10 have had food or drinks thrown at them during a screening.

Not really my experience of the horror audience. They are typically younger, but I can’t say that’s necessarily a guarantee for “obnoxious” behavior. I’m hard-pressed to recall a really bad horror moviegoing experience.

Sex in the cinema? “Fargo,” NYC, the row behind me at one of the big stadium multiplexes in midtown for a midnight show.

Yelling? Been there, done that. Top tip, start with a polite “Shhhh.” Escalate it to a nuclear “SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH” before the shouting.

I once did that to a couple who turned out to be colleagues from the newspaper where I was working. They were…chastened.

Sneaking food and drinks? It’s a must, with AMC charging $9 for a drink or a popcorn or a candy box.

“Drunk or high?” Yeah, GenZ owns that. For now.

But for all that can go wrong, the movies are still, by and large, a positive experience, despite the ever-increasing number of ads parked in front of the previews, the prices and the “hell is other people” potential.

Still, if you’ve heard and seen cell phones at funeral services, endured earbud “conversations” by clueless cretins in most any public space you can imagine — museums, concerts, etc. — singling out movies as the one place where that happens is fair.

And speaking as someone who still sees 125+ films a year in cinemas, I know it’s easiest to lump the horror crowd into a “not like the rest of us” generalization. Anime cultists, superhero movie lemmings, every audience has its uncouth outliers.

At least Adam Sandler’s been segregated to Netflix. That crowd might have been the least civilized of all, if memory serves.

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Movie Review: A Pixie talks to Pumpkins and makes one “Grow”

Gather round, ladies and gents, “boys and gourds,” for a Scots-flavored tale of a little girl who communes with plants.

“Grow” is a cute-aiming-for-cutesie comedy about Halloween, a pumpkin growing contest and learning to “go organic” because that’s what the plants tell you they prefer.

High stakes competitive pumpkining can lead to all sorts of chicanery, and since director John McPhail gave us “Anna and the Apocalypse,” keep an eye peeled for a pumpkin “Psycho” murder and a “Godfather” touch in where one dead gourd winds up.

But most of the giggles here are from a Brit Comic Who’s Who supporting cast of Jane Horrocks, Tim McInnerny, Jeremy Swift and Alan Carr. And there’s Nick Frost, nipping at your nose for good measure.

Priya Rose-Brookwell is Charlie, an impish orphan determined to get to L.A. because she’s sure that’s where her Mum ran off to, “to be the new Wonder Woman.” The System has just about given up on her when they finally turn up her one blood relative.

Aunt Dina (Golda Rosheuvel of “Bridgerton”) is a struggling farmer up Mugford way, where her Little Farm is the only holdout not growing cucurbitaceae in “The Pumpkin Capital of the World.”

No, it’s not the “real” pumpkin capital. But it’s quaint and Scottish and the locals say “Oy!” a lot, especially to anybody who wants to know their personal jumbo-growth pumpkin growing secrets.

Charlie has this special connection to plants, and she figures the £100,000 prize could get her to LA to search for the mother who ran out on her. So why not swipe some seeds, ask around for “tips,” memorize the English measuring system from pounds to stone to tonnes, and have a go?

Aunt Dina is no help, and her lazy hired hand (Joe Wilkinson) would rather teach her his dangerous chores (herbiciding the weeds) than answer her questions about pumpkins.

A classmate’s (Dominic McLaughlin) ag-chemical dad (Jeremy Swift) figures pumpkin growing in the lab is best for weight if one wants to break the “one tonne” barrier.

But the idle rich neighbors, the Smythe-Gerkins (Horrocks and McInnerny) have their own methods, and have been winning the contest for generations.

There’s nothing for it but for Dina to introduce Charlie to organic woodlands weirdo Arlo (Frost) who lives in an ancient caravan (camper) in the forest. The kid who communes with and finesses the flora convinces him to pitch in.

A “descended from greatness” seed is selected and planted, a vine sprouts and “Peter” the pumpkin is named and nurtured towards annual Big Contest at the Mugford’s fall fair.

The script isn’t a laugh a minute, but it has its charms. The messaging about how pumpkins are like people, “It’s not how they look that matters, it’s what’s inside” is obvious but soft-sold.

The kid has a great grasp of the acting craft and holds her own with her esteemed co-stars.

And the pumpkin sabotage scenes are funny, punny and worthy of “Wallace & Gromit.”

Live-action kid-friendly fare like “Grow” is a rare thing, these days, especially at the height of Horror Season. Better grab the tykes and dash off to this before the last “pumpkin spice” lattes are served.

Rating: PG

Cast: Priya Rose-Brookwell, Golda Rosheuvel, Jane Horrocks, Tim McInnerney, Jeremy Swift, Dominic McLaughlin, Alan Carr and Nick Frost.

Credits: Directed by John McPhail, scripted by Nick Guthe, Ruth Fletcher and Christos N. Gage. A Sky production, a Fathom release.

Running time: 1:47

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Movie Review: A Mixed Martial Artist with an “Affinity” for Fighting, but not Screenwriting

Marko Zaror makes a statement on his martial arts skills — as a fighter and fight director — in “Affinity,” a B-picture that drifts into C-movie territory every time the fighting stops.

A towering brawler who figured prominently in the last “John Wick” movie, “The Fist of the Condor” and “Alita: Battle Angel,” Zaror plays a grieving soldier sucked into Thai intrigues when a strange beauty with no memory (Jane Mirro) washes up on his riverside shack’s dock.

We have just enough time to wonder why he doesn’t call Milan to see if any runway models are missing when an old comrade from his special forces days (Brooke Ence) and a vet who “served with your dad” who now runs a Thai diner (Louis Mandylor) pitch in to solve this mystery and track down the legions of masked minions who want to grab Ms. “I think I’ll call myself Athena.”

Bruno lost his brother on a mission, back in the day. Now he’s suicidal and it’s all his old pals Fitch (Ence) and Joe (Mandylor) can do to keep that pistol out of his mouth.

Zaror shows off some impressive moves, right from the first time Bruno is roofied and wakes up to fight his way out of a jam. Flying kicks, accidental headbutts and the like can’t keep him from getting choked out — not once, but more than once. But no worries. The bad guys make take a lot of KIAs from his kicking, stabbing and shooting. But in the manner of many a B and C movie, they always let him live.

Ence, it’s worth mentioning, is pretty credible in a throwdown, too, a blonde-haired fury and walking muscle.

Veteran stuntman Brahim Chab plays the goateed brawler who seems to have Bruno’s number. And Ego Mikitas is the evil scientist in this Bond-without-ambition budget.

Remember the “flowers” part of the plot of “Moonraker?”

The dialogue is a collection of cliched inane nonsense.

“Where did you get this?

“Go f–k yourself!”

“You better not be f—–g with us!”

It’s worth considering that we just heard the guy refuse to talk, and yet we’re hearing a threat related to him giving bad information, not no information at all.

“I’m not f—–g telling you anything,” he repeats, as plainly Bruno and Fitch are not good listeners.

It’s the kind of movie in which a character uses that dying breath to to declare “I needed this.”

The acting isn’t always embarassing, and Zaror’s accent may be thick, but that never stopped Schwarzenegger, Van Damme or Jackie Chan.

Maybe he’ll get that shirtless Jason Statham break. But seeing as how he’s a credited co-writer on “Affinity,” it’s pretty obvious he can’t write that break for himself.

Rating: unrated, graphic violence.

Cast: Marko Zaror, Brooke Ence, Louis Mandylor, Jame Mirro, Brahim Chab and Ego Mikitas.

Credits: Directed by Brandon Slagle, scripted by Gina Aguad, Christopher M. Don, Liam O’Neil and Marko Zaror. A Well Go USA release.

Running time: 1:21

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Netflixable? Come to Mallorca, “Fall for Me”

“Fall for Me” is a sexy German thriller flavored with mystery and intrigue and set on the Spanish vacation island of Mallorca.

Director Sherry Hormann (“A Regular Woman,” “Desert Flower”) and screenwriter Stephanie Sycholt (“Themba”) get the sex and the scenery right. Its the “mystery,” “intrigue” and “thrills” that are the picture’s undoing.

Lilli, played by Svenja Jung, is a sexy 30ish German bank auditor — because in Germany there are such creatures — who travels to Mallorca to check in on younger sister Valeria (Tijan Marei). Vale has big plans. She’s bought into the idea of buying and running a finca as an inn with her new fiance.

Manu (Victor Meutelet)? He’s ready for these big steps because A) he’s in love her Vale and B) he’s managing a local hotel.

But to realize their dreams, Vale needs Lilli to sign off on selling their late mother’s seaside acreage and run-down estate. Lilli the bank auditor starts to wonder if this deal is exactly what it seems.

But there’s this distractingly handsome bartender Tom (Theo Thebs) who turns out to be the manager of a chic local nightclub. Their flirtation is hot, turning hotter still, all in the space of one steamy night on the balcony of that very nightclub.

But Lilli’s cautious. One more time, “Bank auditor.” She’s curious about this fancy finca her sister and Manu arranged for her to stay in. She’s suspicious of Manu’s motives and questions her sister’s judgement. She wonders about the real estate broker (Thomas Kretschmann of “The Pianist”) Nick, who seems in a hurry to rush this deal through.

And then she meets Manu’s ex (Anje Traue) and the scheme and the movie’s plot and our investment in it start to unravel. She hasn’t forgotten about Tom, but if she can’t guess how he connects to all this, she’s a lot slower than your average Netflix viewer.

It must cost a fortune to film on Mallorca, in and around the Riviera-chic small city of Palma. So director Hormann gives us Edenic beaches and rocky cliffs above the gin-clear sea, in addition to posh homes, a hotel and a club.

Lots of cool, upscale places to make out. Because that’s where this romance novel of a mystery’s emphasis is.

The performers are (mostly) credible, even if the situations and reactions to them are not.

Damn this script is dumb. We’re meant to buy into some ongoing real-estate grift involving pretty boy honey pots, with all the principals tucked on a tiny island with nowhere to lay low or hide out after the grift.

Lilli makes accusations and walks into what’s sure to be dangerous situations heedless of her peril. The few twists are as subtle as Chekhov’s gun, which makes its entrance in the first act, sure to take a curtain call in the third, as if the screenwriter just learned about it and tries to apply it to her latest assignment.

According to her credits, the South African Sycholt peaked early and has made a living concocting crap for decades since.

As for her latest? Sexual allure be damned, be smarter than Lilli. Don’t fall for it.

Rating: TV-MA, violence, sex, nudity, profanity

Cast: Svenja Jung, Theo Thebs, Tijan Marei, Victor Meutelet, Antje Traue, Lucía Barrado and Thomas Kretschmann.

Credits: Directed by Sherry Hormann. scripted by Stephanie Sycholt. A Netflix release.

Running time: 1:45

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Movie Preview: Remaking Hitchcock with “Coyotes” instead of “Birds?”

Yeah, that’s a reach. This nature-at-its-most-monstrous thriller is played for twisted laughs, with Justin Long and Kate Bosworth as a couple trying to survive a pack’s attack on their privileged lives.

Brittany Allen and Norbert Leo Butz also star.

October 3.

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Movie Preview: Hugh Jackman and Kate Hudson make The Holidays One Big Sing-Along — “Song Sung Blue”

A Vietnam Vet Neil Diamond “interpreter” meets his muse, the daughter of a Hudson Brother.

A “comeback” for Kate and for “Hustle & Flow” writer-director Craig Brewer?

As your friendly neighborhood Scarecrow might put it.

“JOY! RAPTURE!

This opens Christmas Day, and really, who had Hugh, the Greatest Triple Threat of his era, and Kate Hudson as the duet you needed for a little holiday cheer?

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Movie Preview: A Halloween Comedy about Pumpkin-cultivating in Limey Land — “Grow”

Kid friendly, with Nick Frost, Jane Horrocks and Tim McInnerny among the familiar faces in this Fathom Entertainment release set for Oct. 3.

Looks very cute, and the director did “Anna and the Apocalypse.” Worth a go, no?

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Movie Preview: Count them. There Must be more than Seven — “Samurai Fury”

Epic much?

Oct. 7.

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