There’s fraud going on at Beach Cliff. Some tins of these Sardines have “sardines” listed as the main ingredient, but others say “sprats”. It’s a distinction that, though misleading, probably won’t make a difference to most people given the similarity in flavor. They’re “smothered” In Mustard Sauce the Cliffsmen promote as “marvelous” as if the taste of mustard or sardines could come anywhere close.
my rating : 3 of 5
The prelude, which introduces “paranormal investigators” Ed and Lorraine Warren via their Annabelle Case, is silly, but the following story begins decently enough. It has a family; a husband and wife along with their five daughters; moving into a house in Harrisville, Rhode Island. The year is 1971 and, despite a janky furnace, the retro vibes are warm and inviting.
It’s when the spooks begin; the house is, of course, haunted; that things start to get silly again. Perhaps The Conjuring, with a less ominous title, would’ve been better as a light Brady-Bunch-like coming-of-age story. As is, the movie, which is supposedly based on a true story, with all its lazy horror genre clichés, gets more and more ridiculous the longer it goes.
my rating : 2 of 5
The climax reminds me of the fight sequence at Vernita’s house in Kill Bill, but lack of innovative isn’t the problem here. It’s the silliness of the plot. The Hunt, which has a handful of people engaged in a sort of political civil war, goes for comedy; my least favorite movie genre; instead of taking itself seriously.
There’s plenty of violence and gore, and those are the most entertaining parts, but it’s mostly cartoonish; an eyeball stuck on the heel of a shoe. Neither is there anything particularly clever about the overarching satire, which, for what it’s worth, aims at both (conservative) “deplorables” and (liberal) “cucks”.
my rating : 3 of 5