Monday, June 29, 2009

Run, Fat Boy, Run

Simon Pegg has lately been one of the best and funniest things to come out of Britain. Starting with the UK's take on "Seinfeld", the critically acclaimed but short-lived British series "Spaced" (1999), Pegg has emerged as a premiere comedic writing and acting talent with the hilarious zombie spoof Shaun of the Dead (2004) and Hot Fuzz (2007), a sort of buddy comedy spin on Agatha Christie. Pegg's partners along the way have been co-writer and director Edgar Wright, and buddy comedy counterpart Nick Frost. With Run, Fat Boy, Run (2007), Pegg has attempted to branch out and make a more "American" comedy, bringing on veteran funnyman of the reality TV circuit Michael Ian Black as co-writer, David Schwimmer to direct in his feature film debut, and Hank Azaria as the antagonistic foil.

Five years after leaving his pregnant fiancé Libby (Thandie Newton) at the altar, Dennis Dolye (Pegg) works a dead-end job as a security guard, is behind on his rent, smokes too much, and is fairly out of shape. Enter American businessman Whit (Azaria), Libby's new boyfriend, who is trying to sidle into the father role for Jake, Dennis's son and only joy in life. After joining Whit at the gym while trying to gauge his intentions with Libby, Dennis accidentally agrees to join Whit in an upcoming marathon along the Thames. Falsely equating finishing the marathon with winning Libby back, Dennis grudgingly begins training in earnest with the help of his Pakistani neighbor Mr. Goshdashtidar and his friend Gordon (Dylan Moran), who's banking on Dennis finishing the race to the tune of a 5000 pound bet. Dennis will need all the help he can get: the race is just three weeks away.

RFBR is by no means a bad film. It's enjoyable and there are plenty of laughs, mostly dealt out by Pegg and Dylan Moran as the down-and-out bachelor BFF Gordon. But I can't help comparing this film to Pegg's previous efforts and seeing it come up short in matters of originality, script complexity, and cinematographic merit. The biggest of these problems is originality. Pegg and Black's script is somewhat lifeless, playing rather like a number of other generic rom-coms. Boy has girl, boy loses girl, girl meets better and more handsome boy, old boy attempts to win back girl while exposing faults of new boy. It doesn't help that Hank Azaria drives right down cliche avenue, playing Whit as the typical flashy, handsome, and successful jerkface. One has to wonder if newcomers Black and Schwimmer might be to blame, both used to more formulaic fare, such as episodes of "Friends" or an endless litany of VH1 commentary shows (think "I Love the 80s"). I would recommend this movie for fans of Pegg's other work, but just be prepared for it to be a little less realized than Shaun of the Dead or Hot Fuzz.

Storyline & plot: 4/10
Cinematography & effects: 6/10
Music & mood: 5/10
Performances: 6/10

The Reverend says: 6/10

Sunday, June 28, 2009

Twin Peaks, Season 2

The 2nd and final season of "Twin Peaks" (1990) suffered a few disastrous setbacks that led to declining ratings and eventual cancellation. Show creators David Lynch and Mark Frost were under pressure from ABC to resolve the mystery of Laura Palmer and reveal her murderer. Why, I'm still not sure, as there were no problems with ratings through the first season and into the second. I guess the TV executives, in their great and wondrous wisdom, really do know best. I mean, they've never killed a good and well-loved show that was doing perfectly fine and didn't need any tinkering. No, never. Additionally, the show suffered from a lack of David Lynch's influence in the middle of the season, as he was involved with promoting his new film Wild at Heart (1990).

Only a handful of episodes into the second season, Lynch was forced to tip his hand and reveal Laura Palmer's murderer. Luckily, Laura Palmer was simply a McGuffin all along, a literary device used to draw the audience into the story with a compelling mystery. Meanwhile, the real story, the story of quirky Twin Peaks and the evil it might contain, unfolds under the audience's nose. Unfortunately, the concept of the McGuffin was lost on American audiences, and ratings sharply declined after the killer was revealed, even though the show was still going strong, with a plethora of intriguing and interweaving storylines still up in the air.

With Lynch's attention focused on Wild at Heart and the central mystery more or less solved, the show did tend to run a little thin at times. The writers stretched themselves too far, creating sideline plots that went too far afield, that involved too many people outside of Twin Peaks, and that were frankly boring and utterly pointless. But when efforts were concentrated on the viable storylines, the writing was as sharp and the tension as high as ever.

In "Twin Peaks" season 2, the revelation of Laura Palmer's killer is only the beginning. That information opens a doorway onto a much deeper and more insidious puzzle, involving the ancient Ghostwoods surrounding the town, and a creeping evil that threatens to consume all those who dwell in Twin Peaks. That evil takes form in Windom Earle (Kenneth Welsh), Agent Cooper's (Kyle MacLachlan) one-time partner who became increasingly obsessed with the Black Lodge, the mythical source of the evil outside of Twin Peaks. Earle and Cooper enter into a metaphorical chess game, the lives and souls of Twin Peaks townsfolk the prize. The tension mounts as Earle comes closer and closer to discovering the Black Lodge and snatching away Cooper's new found love Annie Blackburn (Heather Graham) as a soul sacrifice. The battle builds to a terrifying climax with the series finale, set mostly inside the twisted, surreal, and bizarre world of the Black Lodge. Lynch's unique use of color (reminiscent of Dario Argento's Suspiria), lighting, bizarre sound design and intentionally wooden acting bring the Black Lodge's deeply cryptic and deeply disturbing symbolism to life.

While Kyle MacLachlan's Agent Cooper was the standout performance of Season 1, the second season sees a more diffuse range of acting talent. Perhaps leading the ensemble pack here is Richard Beymer's Benjamin Horne, whose transformation from corrupt corporate giant through bat-shit crazy to environmentally-conscious man of truth is mesmerizing, if a bit clichéd. Another stand-out for me is Ian Buchanan as refined, meticulous, and philandering department store salesman Richard "Dick" Tremayne, whose personality oscillates between gloriously shallow and melodramatically concerned.

All in all, "Twin Peaks" is one of the most compelling, intricate, and beautifully-filmed shows of all-time and I would recommend it in a heartbeat. Be warned: although the series finale is amazing, it also leaves us hanging on the fates of several key characters, including Agent Cooper, Annie Blackburn, and several others caught in a bank vault explosion. For those needing a sense of completion out of a show, I guess this is not the one to pick.

Storyline & plot: 7/10
Cinematography & effects: 9/10
Music & mood: 8/10
Performances: 8/10

The Reverend says: 8/10

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Brick

I find it hard to believe that this movie was filmed with one camera, edited on a home computer, with a score recorded in bits and pieces via the one onboard microphone of said home computer. It boggles the mind. The film looks great. It sounds great. It's a top-notch production. This is not your typical rinky-dink one-man masterpiece. With Brick (2005), Rian Johnson joins an exclusive club of great directorial debuts whose members include The Coen Brothers' Blood Simple (1984), Sam Mendes's American Beauty (1999), Frank Darabont's stunningly good The Shawshank Redemption (1994), Quentin Tarantino's Reservoir Dogs (1992), and John Huston's classic noir The Maltese Falcon (1941), featuring the great Humphrey Bogart as the iconic P.I. Sam Spade. It is this last comparison that is the most fitting. Brick is a rarity: a neo-noir that actually works, paying homage to the gritty realism and twisty-turny plot of Huston's Falcon.

Brendan Frye (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) is a street-tough and street-smart San Clemente high school student who dabbles in the California burg's small-time underground drug trade. But Brendan is about to get a whole lot more involved after his ex-girlfriend Emily disappears following a tense and mysterious phone conversation with Brendan. Our young Sam Spade follows the only leads he can glean from Emily's hysteria: the words "pin" and "brick." To track down San Clemente's drug baron known only as The Pin (Lukas Haas), Brendan must wade through a river of the town's underground players: Dode, Emily's latest drug-addled boyfriend; Kara, an icy and manipulative bitch and Brendan's one-time girl; Tugger, the Pin's violent and mercurial right-hand man; and Laura, the sexy rich girl with mysterious motives, the "dame" if you will.

Nathan Johnson's incredible score hearkens back to the quirky instrumental exploration by Anton Karas in The Third Man (1949). Johnson (director Rian Johnson's cousin) maintains the ominous air of the classic noir score, often falling back to a single instrument that slowly spins out the distance between bursts of dialog. The score also features some off-beat instrumentation, including the use of furniture, filing cabinets, and kitchen utensils.

My one big gripe with this movie is Johnson's dialog scripting. This is the one aspect of the film where it seems he's just trying too hard to reach that noir feel. Everything is slang and codespeak, an annoying mixture of modern terms and anachronistic verbage. In the mouths of these high schoolers, the dialog seems forced, recalled from memory by rote. More than anything, it reminds me of Baz Luhrman's vile and ill-conceived Shakespearian retread Romeo + Juliet (1996). Luckily, the thoughtful characterizations and flash-bang action of the film are a welcome distraction from some of the more painful speaking sequences.

I have heard many praise this film and its director as the next great thing in cinema. Johnson's eagerly awaited sophomore effort, The Brothers Bloom, is in theaters now, so it remains to be seen if the hype will pan out. For my part, I enjoyed the film for its successful take on noir, for its strangely compelling score, and for some superb performances by Gordon-Levitt and Haas. Is it the best thing since 7-Up? Nah. But it's not too shabby either.

Storyline & plot: 7/10
Cinematography & effects: 7/10
Music & mood: 10/10
Performances: 7/10

The Reverend says: 7/10

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Curb Your Enthusiasm, Season 4

The fourth season of "Curb Your Enthusiasm" marks the zenith of the series so far. After the first two seasons, I was somewhat underwhelmed with the show. It was awkward, annoying, and inconsistently funny. Season 3 marked a serious shift in the quality of the show's writing and acting. The upward trend continues into Season 4. The show is now not just consistently funny, but usually pretty hilarious. The scripting is now much tighter, allowing the show to actually develop along some story arcs rather than flounder around from topic to topic. The actors have grown into their characters enough to make the show's improv style dialogue actually flow smoothly. Bottom line, this show has slowly matured into one of the funniest and most entertaining shows to watch.

Season 4 centers around Larry's newfound career on Broadway. Offered the starring role of Max Bialystock in The Producers by Mel Brooks, Larry attempts (poorly) to sing, dance, and learn his lines in time for the show's opening. After scaring away his costar Ben Stiller (it may have had something to do with poking his eye out with a toothpick and refusing to sit in the front seat of his car), Mel Brooks recruits David Schwimmer to play opposite Larry. Schwimmer and Larry get off to a great start when Larry insults Schwimmer's father and accidentally leaves him a vile message on his phone.

Meanwhile, Larry's attempts to cash in on Cheryl's intriguing offer for a 10th anniversary gift land him in hot water with just about everyone, including his country club, his Hasidic laundry service, Wanda Sykes, a hooker, and another Producers castmate. All the antics culminate in the premiere of the Producers on Broadway, where Larry and Schwimmer put away their differences to blow the house away, while Mel Brooks tries to pull a Producers on the Producers!

Storyline & plot: 9/10
Cinematography & effects: 6/10
Music & mood: 6/10
Performances: 9/10

The Reverend says: 8/10

Saturday, June 20, 2009

The X-Files: I Want to Believe

Do you know what I wanted to believe? That all the negative reviews and news surrounding the latest venture into the X-Files world were overblown, the product of unreasonable expectations and over-critical fans. Because I really loved the "X-Files". I've seen every single episode and 1998's feature-length Fight the Future. I say this not as an uber-geek who wants to play X-Files trivia and cite each and every episode in which the I Want to Believe poster appeared, but rather as someone who simply enjoyed one of the best shows television has ever offered.

Unlike many other fans, I was never particularly enamored of the ongoing story arc involving Agent Mulder's nemesis the Smoking Man, alien abductions, and the vast government conspiracy meant to obfuscate the truth (although William B. Davis did consistently turn in damn fine performances as the Smoking Man). The show always kept me coming back for the skilled writing, intricate character development, and the non-arc episodes, often referred to as Monster of the Week installments. I was even a fan of the much maligned 8th and 9th seasons of the show, when Mulder and Scully (David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson) were scaled back in favor of the new X-Files agents Doggett and Reyes (Robert Patrick and Annabeth Gish). The main story arc got muddled and frankly a little silly, which turned most fans off. It didn't bother me, as I was happy to tune in for Robert Patrick's gritty and intense portrayal of John Doggett and the Monster of the Week episodes, even if Gish's listless and tepid portrayal of Agent Reyes was a complete waste of screentime.

So when I Want to Believe (2008) came under fire, I attributed it to the news I'd heard that the movie was a departure from any of the main story arcs of the show. Well, let the silly die-hard fans cry about no alien conspiracies. I just wanted to see Mulder and Scully kicking some paranormal ass like old times.

Unfortunately, all the venomous reviews turned out to have merit. There was no saving this movie from some seriously poor writing and a bafflingly mediocre plot. So, what did this X-Files movie that was 8 years in the making and highly anticipated and could have been epic or at the very least well written have to offer us? Let me tell you. Eight years have passed since Mulder's trial for various vague crimes against the government. Eight years since his subsequent expulsion from the FBI. Eight years since he went underground to avoid incarceration. And by 'underground,' I mean living in domesticity with Scully in West Virginia, less than 150 miles from FBI headquarters. For her part, Scully has retired from the FBI and pursued a career as a physician, working in an uber-Catholic hospital as an apparently highly-regarded... pediatrician? Neurosurgeon? It's never made all that clear.

Well, the FBI must not have been worried about Mulder too much in the intervening years, because they know right where to find him when they finally do need to track him down. He's sniffed out by the most unlikely pair of FBI agents ever, Amanda Peete's amateur and annoying Agent Dakota Whitney (what the hell kind of name is that?? was her previous profession pornstar? stripper?) and Xzibit's (yeah, Xzibit, as in "Yo Dawg, we put some FBI in your FBI so you can watch the FBI while you're in the FBI!") sullen and unnecessarily angry Agent Mosely Drummy (seriously, what is up with the names in this movie?!?). I can only conclude that these parts were cast via drawing names out of a hat. While the producers were drunk. And high. Anyway, back to what passes for a plot in this movie....

So, what great and portentous case brings the FBI knocking on Mulder's door after 8 years? The Smoking Man's risen from the grave? Aliens have taken the president hostage? Nope. There's a missing FBI agent. Oh yeah, and a pedophiliac ex-priest with a laughable Irish accent is having psychic visions in connection with the case. Yeah..... of course. Meanwhile, Scully is trying to save the life of one of her patients, a young boy with some vague untreatable illness. Well.... there is one treatment involving stem cell therapy. And after some battling with the hospital board and another of her emo crisis of faith tirades, she proceeds with the treatments. Wait wait wait. Stem cell treatments? In an uber-Catholic hospital? No. Fucking. Way. Not gonna happen. Fucking ludicrous lapse in screenwriting accuracy.

Moving along, the plot slowly plods on, eventually centering around a gay Russian organ transporter who kidnaps women with blood type AB (who he conveniently identifies by their medical alert bracelets and who all seem to reside in the same area of West Virginia) so that his crack Russian surgeon team with nothing better to do can repeatedly transplant the head of his lover onto fresh bodies every few weeks in order to keep him alive. Yeah, I'll let that sink in for a minute. The pedophile priest leads Mulder and Scully deeper down the rabbit hole via his mysterious psychic connection with the Russian lovers, all the while spouting prophetic mumbo-jumbo that he professes to know nothing about.

It just.... well, it makes your head hurt. There's barely even any paranormal activity to speak of. The plot elements, like the casting choices, seem to have been drawn at random. The show's creator Chris Carter once again returns to the same theological ground that Mulder and Scully circled for 9 seasons. It's over! We get it! Scully's Catholic faith is repeatedly tested by paranormal events until she eventually realizes that the paranormal events are in fact the proof of her faith after all. All the while Mulder heckles, jeers, and smiles knowingly while he chases down the proof to theories he already knows to be irrefutably true. The dynamic worked when it was bolstered by rock-solid plotting and interesting stories in the course of the show. This terrible excuse for a movie exposes it as the smoke and mirrors act it really is.

To be fair, none of this is really the fault of Duchovny or Anderson. While their chemistry is a little thin after all these years, they are still acting circles around both their inept castmates (Peete and Xzibit) and the steaming pile that is the script. Here's to hoping that Carter finally lets this once great television juggernaut rest in peace.

Storyline & plot: 2/10
Cinematography & effects: 5/10
Music & mood: 3/10
Performances: 5/10

The Reverend says: 3/10

Friday, June 19, 2009

Cloverfield

Cloverfield (2008), J.J. Abrams and Matt Reeves' blockbuster NYC monster movie, bears a resemblance to The Blair Witch Project on a few levels. Most obvious is the cinematography. Cloverfield borrows prodigiously from Blair Witch's pioneering first-person handheld digital shaky cam. In fact, when the film was first released, many theaters posted a warning to customers about the possibility of motion sickness. But unlike the nausea-inducing shaking and bouncing of Blair Witch, Cloverfield's camera work manages to be believably amateur without making the audience want to hurl. That subtle yet important distinction immediately marks this film as the product of filmmakers who don't fuck around with the quality of their film.

Also much like Blair Witch, Cloverfield seems to be the type of film that has polarized audiences. Due to its highly secretive teaser trailers and marketing campaign (even the film's actors didn't know much about the movie on a day-to-day basis!), many moviegoers handed over their money at the theaters without knowing a single damn thing about the film. As is the public's wont, many audience members were disappointed for one reason or another, probably because the film was 'not what they expected,' even though any expectations were patently impossible. Such are the vagaries of the business, I suppose. Long story short, people either like this movie or think it's crap. I'll try to tell you why I liked it.

The film follows a group of 20-something New Yorkers at a going-away party for their friend Rob, about to take an executive job in Tokyo. Rob's goof-ball best friend Hud gets stuck with the camera for the night, spending most of the party zoomed in on his crush Marlena's boobs in the guise of soliciting going-away advice for Rob. Around midnight, the party's groove is suddenly rocked by the noise of an explosion. The revelers rush to the building's roof for a better view while whispers and rumblings of 'another terrorist attack' run through the crowd. The filmmakers tactfully and wisely (I think) refrain from any explicit mention of 9/11 or the Twin Towers. Its only purpose would have been for recognition shock value, and I'm glad they didn't cheapen the film that way.

Without giving away too much, suffice it to say that the remainder of the movie is a mad dash around Manhattan as the survivors attempt to reach their friend trapped in her apartment in midtown, all while avoiding the perils of the night: explosions, military blockades, looters, and the mysterious creature that's taken control of the island. The film is practically one long uninterrupted shot, never letting the audience catch their breath, drawing out the suspense and thrills. Above all, the filmmakers create a grand and sustained illusion: an 'amateur' film that nonetheless is incredibly detailed and looks really amazing.

The amount of time, care, and effort that went into set design and cinematography is particularly amazing. With a scale of action as large as Manhattan itself, cutting corners is just not an option. It would have been obvious, and the film would have been laughable and tawdry. Instead, the film and design crews put the time in, getting tons of 2nd unit footage right on the streets of Manhattan, including skylines, buildings, street-level shots, and the Brooklyn Bridge itself. Combining these backgrounds with the principal photography shot in downtown Los Angeles and on the studio backlots, cinematographer Michael Bonvillain teams with the set design and visual effects departments to construct Cloverfield's Manhattan from the ground up. And it looks fantastic, seamlessly blended to be so real that you'd swear they shut down the entire island for one night just to shoot this movie.

In the end, this is a really good film. It does what it was intended to: thrill its audience. What most impressed this reviewer most was the level of detail that went into each shot, so that the finished product wasn't just good or good enough, but damn near the best shot possible. This is serious, hard-working, collaborative filmmaking.

Storyline & plot: 6/10
Cinematography & effects: 10/10
Music & mood: 7/10 (no music, just mood)
Performances: 5/10

The Reverend says: 7/10

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Lars and the Real Girl

To quote Robert Downey Jr's character from Tropic Thunder: "You never go full retard." Sage advice that finds another prime example in the character of Lars (Ryan Gosling) in Lars and the Real Girl (2007), Craig Gillespie's pitch-perfect directorial debut penned by rookie screenwriter Nancy Oliver. Lars, in fact, isn't even technically retarded at all. He's fairly functional, holding down an office job, going to church, living alone, and presumably paying his own bills. But lingering emotional scars stemming from childhood trauma leave Lars socially crippled. He is unable to express or accept emotional or physical intimacy, even experiencing physical pain at the slightest touch. With the impending birth of his brother's first child, Lars is forced to confront the painful memories of his own mother's tragic death, and the emotional trauma sends him over the edge. Lars lapses into a complex delusion involving his new 'girlfriend,' a sex doll named Bianca.

That such a finely-tuned, superbly-scripted, hilarious and touching movie is the result of the collaboration of both a rookie scriptwriter and director is amazing. It comes as a sad shock that Gillespie's sophomore effort was the universally-panned Billy Bob Thornton & Ashton Kutcher dick-and-fart hot mess Mr. Woodcock. Here's to hoping it was ghost-directed. Or maybe it just means that Oliver's script for LatRG was so rock-solid that even inexpert directorial fumbling couldn't touch it. Regardless, LatRG is in turns hilarious and poignant, and often both at the same time. Despite dealing with some pretty bizarre subject matter, the dialogue and characterizations never feel forced. In the hands of many other screenwriters, this film would end up reeking of corn and cheese, but Oliver keeps everything balanced on the edge of a knife. Sure, her portrayal of the quirky yet accepting small town is a tad clichéd, but well within the realm of possibility.

Aside from the script, this film was also carried by its superb ensemble cast, including a powerfully subdued performance (as usual) from Patricia Clarkson as Lars's psychologist, a spot-on turn from Paul Schneider as Lars's flabbergasted brother, and Ryan Gosling's incredible Lars. I was quite surprised with Gosling's performance. I've avoided most of his movies like the plague, largely because they look like sentimental drivel or just plain crap. His performance as a troubled juvenile delinquent in The United States of Leland failed to thrill me, but so did the rest of that horridly boring movie. He more than makes up for it with LatRG.

I would definitely recommend you pick this one up. It's touching without being cheesy, it's freakin' hilarious, and it's one of the finest examples of screenwriting I think I've ever seen.

Storyline & plot: 10/10
Cinematography & effects: 6/10
Music & mood: 7/10
Performances: 8/10

The Reverend says: 8/10

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Sick Nurses

After the first 15 minutes of Sick Nurses (2007), I was just about ready to give up. I was resigned to sitting through another Asian horror revenge ghost story, complete with a bedraggled long-haired wide-eyed ghost girl. Don't get me wrong; I think Asian horror has been monumental in the evolution of horror cinema. Prior to The Ring, the 2002 American remake of the J-Horror instant classic Ringu (1998), horror cinema in America had been awash in cheap teeny thrillers/slashers and misguided and hackneyed attempts to recapture some mythical retro-magic from '70s and '80s horror. The Ring opened the door for a veritable flood of Asian horror, either straight from the source, or rewritten, repackaged, and re-released to have a more "American" appeal. Miracle of miracles, many of these films were actually scary, instead of just being stupid while trying to be hip, edgy, or self-referentially funny. The tendency for Asian horror to lean towards the strictly supernatural realm of vengeful ghosts, spirits, and demons was a welcome change for an American market glutted with serial killers, psychos, and torture porn.

But the movie biz, whether Japanese, Korean, or American, never seems to know when a good thing has gone too far. Within 5 years, the familiar tropes of Asian horror had been replicated ad nauseum, and it had gotten to the point where most of the films ran together. If you had seen one, you'd seen them all. Yet, Asian filmmakers continued to grind them out, and American distributors continued to pick them up stateside. There have been exceptions, to be sure. Films that for whatever reason have stood out, often despite some inclusion of the worn-out A-Horror tropes. Takashi Miike has consistently set himself apart with bizarrely original fare: Audition (1999), the "MPD Psycho" television series (2000), the extremely strange Visitor Q (2001), and the legendary Ichi the Killer (2001). Also of note are the creepily claustrophobic Infection (2004), and the quietly haunting meta-film Reincarnation (2005).

I'm happy to report that Thai director Piraphan Laoyont's Sick Nurses is another of those exceptions. It's true that Laoyont uses many of the tired A-Horror themes I've come to loathe: a vengeful spirit, long bedraggled hair that hides the face, and the creeping malaise that supplants America's blood and guts, and often marks the action in Asian horror. But it turns out the film is much more than that, leaning heavily on themes from early Cronenberg body horror and Tim Burton's uniquely surreal and macabre vision. What emerges is a dreamlike vision, deftly stretching the events of 15 minutes, using overlapping scenes, flashbacks, and a seemingly unrelated story tangent to slowly fit the movie's central puzzle together.

In Sick Nurses, a young doctor controls a personal harem of nurses at a spooky hospital, using them as pawns in both his sexual fantasies and his black market business selling cadavers. But when jealousy rears its ugly head, the nurses murder one of their own, Tawan, to keep her from spilling the beans on their illegal activities. According to Thai legend, her spirit has 7 days to take revenge on her murderers. It's a quarter to midnight on the 7th day, and while the young doctor is out peddling Tawan's corpse to his usual buyers, the remaining nurses settle down for the night in the hospital dorms, content that Tawan's spirit is at rest. They couldn't be more wrong. The nurses are about to be caught in Tawan's sadistic web of horrifying revenge, as the spirit turns each nurse's biggest conceit into her doom.

Unlike many Asian horror films that eschew blood and gore entirely, Sick Nurses embraces it with an interesting mix of sadistic glee and satirical mirth. Tawan's spirit is a deliberate parody of the Asian ghost, taking sick delight in psychological torture and horrible mutilation. The film is bursting with deliciously inventive Cronenberg-esque death scenes reminiscent of Videodrome (1983), The Brood (1979), Rabid (1977), and The Fly (1986). Sick Nurses plays like a fairy tale, a dark and macabre fable warning against the stereotypical faults and conceits of pretty young women: eating disorders, exercise obsessions, cell phone addiction, shopaholism, and above all, sexual misconduct. That it plays on themes that are as old as society itself makes it no less entertaining. The film is carried by an exceptional script, solid visuals, and a frenetic pace. And hot Thai nurses in various skimpy outfits.

Storyline & plot: 8/10
Cinematography & effects: 8/10
Music & mood: 7/10
Performances: 5/10

The Reverend says: 7/10