Los Angeles Times - 13.03.2020

(ff) #1

E8 FRIDAY, MARCH 13, 2020 LATIMES.COM/CALENDAR


AT THE MOVIES


Every few years, Vin
Diesel likes to remind audi-
ences that he does do movies
that are not of the fast and
furious or alien tree variety.
He’ll throw in “xXx: Return
of Xander Cage” or “The
Last Witch Hunter” to re-
mind us all he’s more than
Groot or Dom Toretto. He
can also be a generic action
star with a gravelly voice and
a contract that requires him
to be in a tank top for at least
70% of the movie. And so ar-
rives the obligatory “Blood-
shot,” an adaptation of the
Valiant Comics character of
the same name, directed by
video game auteur David
S.F. Wilson in his big screen
debut, with a script by Jeff
Wadlow and Eric Heisserer.
“Bloodshot” begins in a
very expected way for this
kind of thing. After a violent
hostage extraction in Kenya,
special ops soldier Ray Gar-
rison (Diesel) retires to the
Amalfi Coast for some R&R
with a comely blond, Gina
(Talulah Riley), apparently
his wife. Before long they’re
picked up by some “psycho
killer” (Toby Kebbell) who


menacingly dances to the
Talking Heads in a meat
locker while demanding to
know some information
about Ray’s mission. Before
you can wonder just who the
heck this guy is, Ray wakes
up in a lab, where he’s been
brought back to life as a
technologically enhanced
super soldier.
With a bloodstream full of

microscopic machinated
mites to rebuild his body in
combat, Ray is RoboCop
with the self-regenerating
power of the T-1000. But his
all-too-human memories of
murder and mayhem mean
he’s hell-bent on revenge.
You know how they say
trauma is stored in the
body? Ray’s trauma still
lives somewhere in his cells,
even after he’s Franken-
steined back to life by the
charming technologist with
a robot arm, Dr. Harting
(Guy Pearce). But are those
memories even his, and
what larger purpose do they
serve?
This is a supremely silly
Diesel vehicle, allowing the
earnest action star to deliver
lines such as “You used me ...
to kill,” with the utmost seri-

ousness. But the writers are
also clever enough about the
genre’s own tropes to poke
fun at them. Visually, there
are some neat moments
with the “nanites” in Ray’s
veins, though there are
times when the movie feels
like watching visual effects
artists lay down half-ren-
dered pre-visualizations,
which is kind of the point.
Predictably, it descends into
a meaningless blur of grav-
ity-defying physics and ro-
botic limbs. By the end, a lot
of violence is happening and
you’re never sure exactly
why or even how.
“Bloodshot” wants to be
a treatise of sorts on priva-
tized surveillance, artificial
intelligence and war profit-
eering. And in many ways, it
pulls that off, especially with
Pearce as the philosophical-
ly slimy Dr. Harting. But the
filmmakers have the good
sense to let that subversion
coexist alongside Diesel’s
sincerity, so it remains a be-
wildering piece of good-bad
sci-fi action trash. Do any of
the characters have clearly
articulated motives? No.
Are the action sequences a
confounding geographical
jumble? Indeed. Does Lam-
orne Morris shout “He’s
overclocking the nanites!” in
a cockney accent? Of course
he does. What more could
you possibly expect from a
movie called “Bloodshot”?
Nothing.
Katie Walsh is a Tribune
News Service film critic.

If a wall plastered in post-
ers for ’90s Christian bands
DC Talk and Audio Adrena-
line means something to
you, then “I Still Believe” will
mean something to you.
This faith-based romantic
drama preaches to the choir;
the Erwin brothers’ film is
counting on its audience
knowing every word and
melody to the story it tells,
both literally with the songs
of its real-life subject Jeremy
Camp as well as in its
earnest spirituality and cul-
tural references.
After directing the Mer-
cyMe biopic — and legiti-
mate hit — “I Can Only
Imagine,” Jon and Andrew
Erwin capably tackle the
story of another contempo-
rary Christian artist here.
Back in 1999, a pre-fame Jer-
emy Camp (K.J. Apa of
“Riverdale” fame, in a more
chaste role and bland per-
formance) has left his par-
ents (Gary Sinise and Sha-
nia Twain) back in Indiana
and is in his freshman year of
college in California. He
wonders how he can make it
big as a musician, and then
he meets Melissa (Britt
Robertson) at a Christian
rock show. He falls hard, but
their romance isn’t all joy.
Tragedy strikes the young
couple when she gets a life-
threatening diagnosis, test-
ing his faith through her ill-
ness.

Despite a vibrant per-
formance by Robertson, Me-
lissa exists more as a part of
Jeremy’s journey rather
than as her own person. The
script from Jon Erwin and
Jon Gunn doesn’t fully flesh
out her character; we just
know she loves Jesus, Jere-
my and the stars, in approxi-
mately that order, but there
isn’t much else there.
This isn’t just an issue for
Melissa; “I Still Believe” runs
almost two hours, but it fre-
quently commits sins of
omission. The Erwins’ film
misses pertinent details and
explanations, whether
about Jeremy’s ascending
music career or a seemingly
random appearance by his
family at his school.
Though it’s based on a
true story, “I Still Believe”
feels like a Nicholas Sparks
adaptation, but written for
teens with purity rings or
adults who share joint Face-
book accounts with their
spouses. It’s a romance
above all, but one that
doesn’t just glamorize love
for an earthly partner and
instead points toward the
importance of pursuing a re-
lationship with Jesus, even
through hardship. Those
looking for inspiration will
find it without looking too
hard, but those who don’t at-
tend church regularly will be
as bored as they would be by
a sermon.

Documentarian Liz Gar-
bus, Oscar-nominated for
“What Happened, Miss
Simone?,” tackles her first
narrative feature with a
story that’s well within her
wheelhouse after her HBO
true crime docs such as
“Something’s Wrong With
Aunt Diane” and “Who
Killed Garrett Phillips?”
“Lost Girls,” billed as an
“unsolved American mys-
tery,” is based on the nonfic-
tion book of the same name
by Robert Kolker, an investi-
gation of the murders of an
at-large serial killer believed
to have slain at least 10, and
potentially 16, victims,
mostly sex workers, in Long
Island, N.Y.
Kolker’s book is a sprawl-
ing story that traverses the
Eastern Seaboard from
Maine to New York and dives
deep into the lives and dis-
appearances of five victims
and their families’ search for

answers. It’s been con-
densed into a 95-minute film
that focuses primarily on
Mari Gilbert (a flinty Amy
Ryan with a brassy bleached
mane), the mother of Shan-
nan Gilbert, a New Jersey
sex worker who called 911 in a
panic from the gated Long
Island community of Oak
Beach before disappearing
into the night.

Though her 2010 disap-
pearance didn’t exactly pre-
cipitate the discovery of the
other bodies (a routine po-
lice K-9 training exercise
did), the circumstances
were unusual enough to
arouse suspicion in the
reclusive enclave of Oak
Beach, spurred by Mari’s vo-
cal advocacy. Upset with the
media depiction that these

women — sisters, daughters
and friends — were merely
“prostitutes” whose killings
weren’t worth investigating,
Mari, through sheer force of
will, sought to impose her
own agenda on the public
narrative.
Because the film, like the
book, immediately an-
nounces itself as “unsolved,”
it takes a bit of suspense off

the table. Much of the film’s
drama is taken up with
whether the police, headed
up by Commissioner Rich-
ard Dormer (Gabriel
Byrne), will take Mari’s com-
plaints seriously. The only
real mystery is whether
they’ll find Shannan’s re-
mains or enough evidence to
arrest a longtime Oak Beach
resident and local doctor
(Reed Birney) who came
into contact with her that
night.
Garbus brings a chilly,
windswept and at times lyri-
cal aesthetic to the film, and
the actors — including the
always wildly compelling
Lola Kirke and the quietly
powerful Thomasin McKen-
zie as sisters of the victims —
do their best with the hacky,
formulaic and obvious script
by Michael Werwie (“Ex-
tremely Wicked, Shockingly

Evil and Vile”). Kolker’s
book delicately wove themes
of class and structural issues
throughout the stories of
these women, humanizing
them and indicting the sys-
tem that drove them to in-
creasingly dangerous sex
work.
That nuance and cultural
commentary are lacking in
the film adaptation.
Werwie’s script doesn’t
know where to land: Is it the
media? The local police?
The insular nature of this
community that may have
concealed a serial killer for
decades?
Though the film eventu-
ally gets to where it needs to
go, it feels scattered, stum-
bling over true crime tropes
on the way.
All the opportunity is
there to explore the ex-
ploitation of women and the
unbalanced and dangerous
economy of sex work; to in-
dict the misogyny that per-
meates media and law en-
forcement. But the script is
never willing to pin down
those ideas in any kind of
damning statement.
Through the force of
Ryan’s steely performance,
we’re simply left with this
devastatingly grim tragedy
and few answers to hold on
to.

‘I Still Believe’


Rated:PG, for thematic
material
Running time:1 hour,
55 minutes
Playing:In general release

‘Lost Girls’


Rated:R for language
throughout
Running time:1 hour,
35 minutes
Playing:Landmark
Westwood (formerly the
Regent); also available on
Netflix

‘Bloodshot’


Rated:PG-13 for intense
sequences of violence,
some suggestive material
and language
Running time:1 hour,
49 minutes
Playing:In general release

BRITT ROBERTSON, K.J. Apa in the Erwin broth-
ers’ faith-based romantic drama “I Still Believe.”

Michael KubeiyLionsgate

REVIEW

Erwin duo


keeps the faith


and playbook


The fact-based ‘I Still


Believe’ stumbles in


its storytelling, but it


delivers if you need a


little inspiration.


By Kimber Myers

RAY GARRISON(Vin Diesel) is out for revenge and don’t try to talk him out of it in the silly sci-fi flick.


Photographs byGraham BartholomewColumbia Pictures

REVIEW


Meet the comeback kid


In ‘Bloodshot,’ Vin


Diesel plays a soldier


killed in action but


brought back to life by


a sinister corporation.


By Katie Walsh


GUY PEARCEis featured alongside Diesel as Dr.
Harting, a charming technologist with a robotic arm.

REVIEW

True-crime tale ‘Lost Girls’ loses depth


New York sex workers


are targeted by


a killer. The original


book provided a lot


more context.


By Katie Walsh

“LOST GIRLS”is based on Robert Kolker’s nonfiction book of the same name.

Jessica KourkounisNetflix
Free download pdf