Use this search box to find articles that have run in our newspapers over the last several years.
Date: 9/19/2023
I have to admit, 2023 has been a great year for films. “Barbie” and “Oppenheimer” somehow exceeded their sky-high pre-release expectations. “Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse” and “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem” pushed animation to new boundaries. Let’s also not forget about the poetic chaos behind “John Wick: Chapter 4” or the moving sentiments of “Past Lives.”
With all the good comes a few rotten eggs. I wanted to take this week’s edition to revisit the two worst films of the year so far. I look forward to highlighting my favorites of the year so far in October.
On Video on Demand: “Cocaine Bear”
Madness ensues when a black bear discovers an ample array of cocaine from a drug run gone wrong in “Cocaine Bear.” Loosely based on a so-ridiculous-it-must-be-true-phenomenon, “Cocaine Bear” boasts an instantly alluring premise that has already drawn significant attention in the Hollywood zeitgeist. Who wouldn’t want to see a bear go berserk during a cocaine-fueled crusade against a group of yuppies?
Director Elizabeth Banks and screenwriter Jimmy Warden try to deliver that cinematic promise, but any potential for campy entertainment is noticeably lost in translation. To put it bluntly, “Cocaine Bear” overdoses from its tedious one-joke approach to an ingenious concept.
The wayward experience stumbles from the jump start. I have always been a fan of Banks as an actress and behind-the-camera creative. The “Pitch Perfect” trilogy offered refreshing comedic sparks before the series eventually ran out of steam, while Banks’ maligned “Charlie’s Angels” reboot was a genuine blockbuster pleasure due to its clever, feminist-driven voice. With “Cocaine Bear,” Banks is entirely out of her element in an awkward genre hodgepodge that never defines an engaging creative pulse.
Banks primarily plays her narrative as a farce — a sensible choice on paper given the premise’s admittedly outlandish qualities. In execution, her vision struggles to connect with any of its B-movie aspirations. The movie embraces a flat, sitcom-esque visual presentation that reduces the concept into a corny series of redundant gags. Awkward stylistic flourishes, like jarring thought bubble edits, often land dead on arrival.
When “Cocaine Bear” eventually tries to embrace the midnight madness of its horror pastiche, the film’s technical shortcomings are more evident. Not even the welcomed inclusion of gory practical effects can mask the ineffective framing choices and tension-free slayings that falter in their pursuit of providing amusement and exhilaration. Banks listlessly steers these moments forward without defining an understanding of what makes extravagant violence compelling to watch. I was left wishing the movie did more to lean into the inherent ridiculousness of its premise.
Warden’s screenplay is equally unfulfilling. The emerging screenwriter, whose only other credit to date is the middling “The Babysitter: Killer Queen,” deserves praise for devising a fruitful concept. Twisting an anomalous slice of history into a rowdy genre romp shows potential, yet Warden never takes full advantage of that innate promise. Far too often, “Cocaine Bear’s” attempts at humor favor self-satisfied simplicity. Repetitive situations where characters merely shout, “the bear is doing cocaine,” do not constitute actual jokes. The times when Warden tries stretching outside those rigid confines feel just as laborious, with the screenwriter often confusing blunt vulgarities as a substitute for clever one-liners.
In terms of narrative, “Cocaine Bear” is stuck in an uninteresting morass. The ensemble approach throws several quirky characters at the screen, but they all feel like one-note caricatures under Warden’s guidance. This shortcoming drastically wastes the talents of Bear’s accomplished cast. The film showcases a variety of stalwart character actors (Keri Russell, Isiah Whitlock Jr., Margo Martindale and the late Ray Liotta) and vibrant emerging stars (O’Shea Jackson Jr., Alden Ehrenreich, and Brooklynn Pierce). Unfortunately, none of them receive the opportunity to leave a lasting impression in their fleeting roles.
Perhaps what’s more telling than my complaints was the lingering silence radiating throughout the packed opening night showing I attended. Everyone in the audience was jazzed to indulge in a campy crowd-pleaser, yet the deafening lack of response resonated like tumbleweeds shuffling down the theater aisles.
The best praise I can heap on “Cocaine Bear” is that it’s short and sweet, clocking in with a self-aware 95-minute runtime. However, what’s packed inside that truncated window rarely inspires much enjoyment.
Also on Video on Demand: “Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey”
The misadventures of Winnie the Pooh receive a gory slasher twist in “Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey.” Despite its humble, microbudget origins, “Blood and Honey” has captured the attention of our cultural zeitgeist. Shortly after A.A. Milne’s classic children’s book entered the public domain in January 2022, writer-director Rhys Frake-Waterfield embarked on a mission to twist Pooh’s wholesome image into a sinister new offering.
I can see the financial and creative appeal behind Frake-Waterfield’s endeavor. He and his production company, ITN Studios, spent under $100,000 for a film that boasts an innate allure to many fans of Disney’s beloved interpretation of the Hundred Acre Wood. It’s a savvy business move that also opens the door for a refreshingly nihilistic take on a well-known children’s staple.
For all the attention “Blood and Honey” is garnering, the film itself is an aggressively beige midnight movie experience. Frake-Waterfield and his creative team waste an ingenious concept on a mindless and monotonous film that lacks a sincere artistic vision.
Frake-Waterfield filmed “Blood and Honey” in 10 days before being awarded a few extra days of reshoots. That truncated filming schedule is deeply felt throughout the patchwork final product. The film struggles to enhance its low-budget assets, deploying an endless array of shoddy plug-in effects, cartoon sketch montages as a substitute for plot beats, and awkward cuts to black during chaotic horror scenes. As a result, a sloppy, unfinished air permeates the film like the dark forces infecting Pooh and Piglet.
Franke-Waterfield showcases some promise as a horror filmmaker. He concocts a few gruesome, blood-soaked kills that revel in their unrelenting dread and embrace the film’s mature NC-17 rating. However, his technical craft leaves a lot to be desired. Franke-Waterfield struggles to define an arresting atmosphere, haphazardly implementing clunky smoke effects and drab lighting choices that lack a sense of artistry. He also is not adept at directing actors. The cast is stuck giving stiff performances inside the confines of their generically assembled roles. I can see where the director is a great student of midnight movie sensibilities, but he still needs to refine his ability to craft truly compelling aesthetics.
On a narrative front, “Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey” feels like a napkin sketch of a screenplay. There is potential on paper for a macabre version of Winnie the Pooh — a narrative that distorts the source material’s good-natured cheer in favor of a parable on lost innocence. In execution, the film boasts no ambition other than providing a thinly connected series of kills. Narrative threads, like the return of an adult Christopher Robin, go nowhere of interest, while the dearth of humor or personality on display fails to inject a sense of B-movie charm.
Franke-Waterfield is already discussing ideas for a potential “Blood and Honey” sequel and other horror versions of classic children’s staples. I respect his ambition and business acumen, but this first outing of a potential franchise lands as an oppressively cheap gimmick.