Shared Darkness

In my latest spin around DVD and Blu-ray releases over at ShockYa, I take a look at That Awkward Moment, the execrable Pompeii, Non-Stop, the third season of TNT’s Falling Skies and more. To take a gander, click here.

Small Time is an appropriate title for writer-director Joel Surnow’s period piece dramedy, the type of movie whose meandering, loose-limbed structure and comparative lack of stakes inform a savvy viewer of the fact that it’s “inspired by true events” even without benefit of the opening credits title card.

Set in the San Fernando Valley sometime after the 1970s but before the advent of cell phones, the film stars Christopher Meloni as Al Klein, a middle-aged divorcee who owns and runs a used car dealership with his best friend Ash Martini (Dean Norris). When his teenage son Freddy (Devon Bostick, tamping down the demonstrativeness of his older brother character in the Diary of a Wimpy Kid movies, but still showcasing a headstrong charm) decides he wants to forego college in order to become a car salesman like his father, Al is secretly moved.

However, Freddy’s decision upsets Al’s ex-wife Barbara (Bridget Moynahan), who along with her second husband, Chick (Xander Berkley), has given her son the comfortable bubble of an upper-middle-class existence, expecting all the while little more than that he would continue his education and reach a little higher than the precarious, paycheck-to-paycheck, blue-collar lifestyle for which Al settled. While Freddy turns out to be a natural salesman, Al eventually has to consider cutting work ties with his son, in order for his long-term benefit.

Small Time represents something of a personal tale for Surnow (24, The Kennedys), whose father was a cold-call carpet salesman his entire life. The script had its genesis in an old, unproduced screenplay, reworked here, that Surnow penned with a college friend when he was only 21, years before he started working in television. Experience from working with his father help lend the movie a certain authenticity in a number of small details — from sales strategy banter and genial cons (in one sequence Ash wears a phony hearing aid and Al quotes an artificially inflated price, in order to give a customer the impression of getting a deal) to father-son friction over advertising and expansion potential.

But there isn’t a lot of what one would consider absorbing dramatic stakes, or even expressive consistency. (Having established Al as being so emotional over Freddy’s graduation that he cries at a TV weather report, it then makes no sense that he doesn’t cry when his son says, “I’d be proud to grow up to be like you.”) For every scene that offers up a sly surprise (Ash taking Freddy to a shady singles bar, or Al and Barbara separately drunk-dialing one another) there are usually one or even two that peter out or feel like padding.

Instead, Small Time surfs along on the appeal of Meloni and, to a slightly lesser extent, Norris, both of whom have considerable Everyman charisma. The latter’s whiskey-swigging guise will ring familiar with Breaking Bad fans, recalling as it does the ball-busting, family-time gregariousness of Hank Schrader. But it’s still a welcome presence here — so much so that one wishes that Surnow had perhaps ditched some of the ancillary din and chatter to develop Al and Ash’s lifelong connection as a stronger parallel arc to that of Al’s changing relationship with Freddy. Small Time has modest insights around the edges, and an overall warm vibe. One merely wishes there was more memorable snap and bite to its platitudes and life lessons.

Arriving on DVD in a 1.78:1 anamorphic widescreen transfer that preserves the aspect ratio of its original theatrical exhibition, Small Time comes housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, stored in turn in a complementary cardboard slipcover. Optional English SDH and Spanish subtitles are included alongside a Dolby digital 5.1 surround sound audio track. In addition to the requisite chapter stops and trailer gallery, the only other supplemental bonus feature is a warm, feature-length audio commentary track with Surnow and his lead actors, Meloni and Norris, in which the three share production anecdotes and talk about the go-go schedule of their low-budget effort, but also touch on issues of fatherhood more broadly. To purchase the DVD via Half, click here; to purchase the DVD via Amazon, click here. Or if brick-and-mortar is still the way you roll, by all means, have at it. C (Movie) C+ (Disc)

The title and exploding Capitol Dome on its DVD cover want to summon forth warm, landmarks-go-boom! memories of Roland Emmerich’s Independence Day, but this schlocky Syfy sci-fi offering, while heavy on destruction, is so creatively stillborn as to elicit little more than half-arched-brow boredom.

On the Fourth of July, while all of the United States is apparently busy enjoying hot dogs and apple pie at picnics, an alien horde descends, laying waste to everything in its path. When America’s fighter jets are quickly dispatched by the alien invaders — who look suspiciously like a cross between giant, zippered ball bearings and the same sort of flying metallic alien crafts from 2012’s Battleship — it’s up to rogue scientist Celia (Emily Holmes), physics-loving teenager Eliza (Andrea Brooks), and fireman Pete (Ryan Merriman) — the son of stranded President of the United States Sam Garcette (Tom Everett Scott) — to team up and try to activate the only technology capable of taking down the alien mothership.

As an original Syfy movie, Independence Daysaster naturally doesn’t have the budget to compete with Emmerich’s aforementioned 1996 disaster porn, but it seems to have only a rudimentary grasp of this fact. Rudy Thauberger and Sydney Roper’s screenplay is an awkwardly blended mix of the perfunctory and outlandish, and director W.D. Hogan oversees a middling technical package with a point-and-shoot mentality that prizes money-shot theatrics over all else. The dramatic underpinnings here are just not such that one develops a rooting interest in regards to anything that unfolds.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case in turn stored in a cardboard slipcover, Independence Daysaster comes to DVD presented in a 1.78:1 anamorphic widescreen transfer, with a Dolby digital 5.1 surround sound audio track that is fairly meager on the low-end bass. Apart from chapter stops and a clutch of trailers, there are no supplemental features herein, further denting this title’s value as anything other than a quickie rental for Syfy genre completists. Nevertheless, to purchase the DVD via Half, click here; to purchase the DVD via Amazon, click here. D+ (Movie) D+ (Disc)

A tense, knotty (in more ways than one) valentine of leaching amorality that evokes memories of the infamous Milgram Experiment, the darkly comedic psychological horror film Cheap Thrills is a satisfyingly warped walk on the wild side. Playing puppet master to wonderful effect, director E.L. Katz oversees a superb, smartly constrained technical package and a rich quartet of gripping performances, resulting in a violent, emotionally charged romp with surprising undertones of social commentary.



Cheap Thrills unfolds in Los Angeles, where would-be writer Craig Daniels (Pat Healy) is feeling the pinch of his occupational failings, what with a 15-month-old son and the eviction notice that greets him on his door as he heads out to work at an oil change establishment. Later in the day, he’s fired — the result of some unfortunate downsizing. Unable to immediately face his wife, Audrey (Amanda Fuller), Craig heads out for a drink at a dive bar, where he runs into an old friend from high school, Vince (Ethan Embry).

In short order, Craig and Vince meet a pair of generous partiers, Colin (David Koechner) and his young wife Violet (Sara Paxton). At first they seem only a bit quirky, but when they all repair to Colin’s well-appointed Hollywood Hills home, it’s not long before an underlying unscrupulousness is revealed. A series of friendly bets quickly become decidedly less so. Soon Craig and Vince are shitting in Colin’s neighbor’s house and then much, much worse — all for cash that Colin doles out without a care. A grim race to the bottom of the ethical barrel ensues.

In a movie like Saw, the villainous Jigsaw had a rationalized motivation — and indeed, what might be described as an overarching worldview. That’s somewhat lacking here in what motivates Colin and Violet (at least in more explicitly underlined fashion), but the script for Cheap Thrills, by Trent Haaga and David Chirchirillo, deftly taps into latent fraternal competitiveness and socioeconomic class conflict between friends. As it unspools, it also assays moral rot, and the fissure points in the America that exists for the “rest of us” majority when one-percenters see fit to make entertainment out of our financial desperation. The allegory connects with a bracing thump, even if it’s not the main thing.

On a more immediate level, Cheap Thrills works because of its superlative cast, all of whom deliver wonderful performances. While still lined with larger-than-life notes, Koechner gets to showcase a darker nature than his supporting roles in movies like the Anchorman films and A Good Old-Fashioned Orgy have afforded. Paxton, meanwhile, imbues her blithe vixen with an unsettling detachment that registers outside of the movie. It’s Healy, though, who’s the film’s anchor. Clean-scrubbed and bespectacled, but with healthy pinches of anxiety and exasperation, he has the perfect countenance for Cheap Thrills — a surrogate for Everyman America, struggling through a dark game that may or may not be totally rigged, but either way is surely damaging to the soul.

Housed in a regular plastic clear Amaray case, Cheap Thrills come to DVD via Drafthouse Films, presented in a 2.35:1 widescreen transfer that preserves the aspect ratio of its original theatrical exhibition, along with a Dolby digital 5.1 surround sound audio track. Its slipcase provides reversible illustrated cover art (above), along with a 16-page black-and-white booklet full of photos, credits, publicity stories (some real, some phony) and other material. There’s also a DRM-free digital download copy of the movie.

Against a static menu screen, eight chapter stops allow viewers the opportunity to dive into segments of the movie for repeat viewing. Bonus features, meanwhile, include a feature-length audio commentary track with Katz and Healy, plus a collection of trailers for Klown, Wake in Fright, A Band Called Death, Wrong and several other Drafthouse titles. The biggest and best extras, though, are a pair of video supplements. First up is a six-and-a-half-minute clip from the film’s Fantastic Fest debut, where audience members take part in a series of dares with the cast prior to the movie’s premiere. This leads to Embry dipping his penis in a cocktail later sipped by a guy, another guy dipping his testicles in sriracha sauce, a woman eating a popsicle covered in crickets, Healy removing his pants, and a third gentleman getting the film’s title tattooed on his ass.

There’s also a comprehensive, 40-minute making-of documentary, Vital Heat, directed by T.J. Nordaker, that serves as a nice look at shoestring-budget independent filmmaking. Chronicling the movie’s 14-day Los Angeles shoot in September 2012, this short film includes on-set chats with the producers and principal players, and the fact that it unfolds more or less in chronological order means viewers get to experience the highs and lows (losing power during a heat-induced rolling blackout) in parallel fashion, right alongside the creative participants. Naturally rich in anecdotes, amusing asides (one interviewee characterizes the smell of a cramped studio apartment serving as the shooting location for Craig and Audrey’s domicile as “ripe men and stale Cheese-Its”) and budget-effects revelations (three rotisserie chickens get dressed as meat of another variety), this short also scores points for its honesty about razor’s-edge dissonance and frustration that are bound to be a part of any such cramped and chaotic artistic endeavor. Katz (who bears a striking physical resemblance a young Stanley Kubrick) is a candid interview subject, opening up about his first stab at directing, but other parties are just as open and forthcoming too. Things culminate with more footage from the movie’s bow at Fantestic Fest a full year later, putting a triumphant cap on the entire white-knuckle creative ride. To purchase the Cheap Thrills DVD via Drafthouse, click here; to purchase via Half, click here. Or if Amazon is totally your thing, meanwhile, click here. B (Movie) A- (Disc)

A vital and in many ways even cathartic documentary overview of the decade-plus rebuilding of the World Trade Center site in New York City following the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks, director Richard Hankin’s 16 Acres throws a light on the sort of sharp-elbowed but slow-footed bureaucratic maneuvering that comes with city planning, most especially of a site this fraught with emotional baggage. At once fascinating and maddening, it’s a clear-eyed, fair-minded and exhaustively sourced look at the sort of story that national news organizations often have a hard time distilling and tracking through time.

Aside from the often under-reported staggering engineering challenges related to the river-adjacent tract of land, a major complicating factor in the rebuilding of the World Trade Center site has to do with the massive number of parties involved. Real estate developers, insurance companies, architects, local residents, families of first responders and other 9/11 victims, and of course politicians all lay claim to the area in various fashion, and have often had mutually exclusive feelings about what sort of rebuilding is appropriate. Just as a matter of sheer dramatic surface engagement, then, 16 Acres delivers an engrossing tale.

A few of the highlights: developer Larry Silverstein, the owner of the site who was left still paying $10 million a month in rent after the attacks, filed a lawsuit over whether the felling of the WTC Towers was one incident or two separate events, for the purpose of recouping as much insurance money as possible. After initial plans for a new WTC site were scrapped, an international open competition was held. Then, after two finalists were named, New York Governor George Pataki unilaterally reversed the decision of the commission charged with studying and choosing the winning design, even after word leaked in the press of the supposed winner.

Architect Daniel Libeskind was picked for his visionary master plan, but had no experience at all with skyscraper design. Silverstein, then, brought in yet another architect, David Childs. Naturally, their visions clashed — as did the feelings of some families of victims with Michael Arad’s widely praised design for a reflecting pool-type memorial. And lest one think good, old-fashioned snafus couldn’t be part of the mix, the final, meticulously arrived at building design then had to be scuttled due to security concerns somehow lost in transit between the Port Authority and the New York Police Department. “At some point the anger just gives way to depression,” says one interviewee, and you totally feel where he’s coming from.

The victory of Hankin’s film is its scope and open airing of all these contrasting opinions. Both Pataki and New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg submit to interviews, as well as Silverstein, the aforementioned architects and many other less well known figures, including reporters who covered the story for the New York Times and other publications. The result doesn’t demonize anyone unfairly. It’s a story about ego and hubris, yes, but also the better angels of our nature. Maybe Winston Churchill was really on to something when he said, famously, that after every option has been exhausted, Americans can be counted on to do the right thing.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case with simple yet evocative cover art that portrays the site’s hybrid design, 16 Acres comes to DVD via First Run Features, with a 5.1 Dolby digital audio track that more than adequately handles the fairly straightforward aural demands of the title, plus optional English subtitles. A film of this sort, although in substantive ways it’s more than merely a snapshot in time, still cries out for forward-leaning updating, and the bonus features herein lack a complete, comprehensive view of the now-completed One World Trade Center. Still, there is time-lapse footage of the construction, plus photo galleries that spotlight drawings and other artist renderings. There are also two short films, one of which shows the antenna tower being installed, and Hankin and his colleagues also produced an enhanced, interactive e-book companion that’s available on iTunes, featuring extra videos, animation and more. To purchase the DVD via First Run, click here; to purchase via Half, click here; to purchase via Amazon, click here. B+ (Movie) B- (Disc)

Lest one think that all the playboy comedies tangentially inspired by 1996’s Swingers, about entertainment industry aspirants and the “beautiful babies” of which they’re in hot pursuit, had finally dried up, witness Cavemen, a blockheaded, sigh-inducing retread that evinces neither any particular originality nor freshness of telling.

Written and directed by Herschel Faber, Cavemen unfolds in mostly downtown Los Angeles, where would-be screenwriter Dean (Skylar Astin) lives in a loft with his three best friends: Jay (Chad Michael Murray), Pete (Kenny Wormald) and Andre (Dayo Okeniyi). Dean is a sensitive mope, but still has a no-strings-attached sexual relationship with Sara (Megan Stevenson), who likes things that way. Pete has an on-again-off-again girlfriend, Beth (Amanda Jane Cooper), but the other two guys are bar scene prowlers who enjoy holding forth with theories on sex and dating and generally lecturing Dean about getting his head out of his ass and enjoying the single life.

Dean, though, pines for something a bit more substantive. And naturally, wouldn’t you know it, there’s also a girl he went on one date with in college, Tess (Camilla Belle), who works with both Dean and Jay. Ergo, much awkward and unconvincing sidestepping of latent attraction ensues, prior to the requisite scene of running, flowers in hand, to intercept a departing taxi.

Films which take writers as their central characters always exist on a somewhat slippery slope, because they run the risk of either unduly venerating the creative process or coming across as indulgent. Cavemen, though, is just lazy, and stocked with female characters so offensively undersketched that Gloria Allred might well want to consider legal action. Faber, making his directorial debut, most likely fancies Dean as some sort of stand-in — a fact which makes the utter lack of convincing depth to his characterization all the more perplexing. Faber has an agent (Jason Patric) magically drop into Dean’s life to confirm his talent to viewers, but doesn’t provide any compelling sense of who he really is as a writer or a person, except by way of the arc that experiencing requited love will magically provide the missing piece for Dean’s screenplay.

The rest of Faber’s screenplay, meanwhile, simply oscillates between wild derivativeness and plodding contrivance. When not cycling through inane nudge-nudge banter, Faber throws in phony romantic impediments and scenes in which Dean gleans wisdom through his nine-year-old nephew. Left to play only lurching, scene-specific motivations, the actors all fall back on predictably declamatory choices. If there’s any bright spot at all, it’s in Cavemen‘s soundtrack — inclusive of Mathclub, Names of Stars, Golden State and more — which manifests more insightful feeling than anything in Faber’s script.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case in turn stored in a complementary cardboard slipcover, Cavemen comes to DVD presented in 16×9 widescreen, with a Dolby digital 5.1 surround sound audio track and optional English subtitles. Apart from chapter stops and a clutch of trailers for other Well Go USA Entertainment titles, however, there are no supplemental bonus features herein, further denting any collectible value for those outside of diehard fans of the genre, or some of the actors. Nevertheless, to purchase the DVD via Half, click here; to purchase via Amazon, click here. D (Movie) D (Disc)

Impressive animation is undercut by a steady stream of insipid chatter in Walking With Dinosaurs, an animated family adventure adapted rather awkwardly from a more academic-minded BBC Earth small screen series of the same name.



The film is bookended by the superfluous wrap-around story of a bored teenager, Ricky (Charlie Rowe), who’s glued to his iPhone while his paleontologist uncle (Karl Urban) tries to get him interested in The Learning. This is no fanciful The Princess Bride, however. For starters, Walking With Dinosaurs simply ignores the fact that its set-up runs counter to the fact that most kids are fascinated by its titular subjects. Then there’s the fact that its writing is, well, not as clever as it fashions itself.

The story within the film is filtered through Alex (voiced by John Leguizamo), a cocky prehistoric parrot who relates the story of Patchi (voiced by Justin Long), a runt-of-the-litter pachyrhinosauras who lives in the shadow of his brother Scowler (voiced by Skyler Stone) and pines with some obviousness for Juniper (Tiya Sircar). When the future of his heard is threatened, however, Patchi is forced to mature, and make some big decisions.

Long, who has a playful and expressive voice and plenty of experience with voiceover work, tries his best to keep audience sympathies at a steady boil. And Leguizamo… well, one basically knows what they’re getting when he’s hired to lend voice to a headstrong bird. But the incessant banter of John Collee’s script — its self-satisfied and self-conscious qualities, and penchant for scatalogical jokes — handcuff and cap its age-appeal, turning Walking With Dinosaurs into a very bland and unsatisfying work. This is a shame, since visually the movie is on occasion quite striking, blending together computer-generated animated creatures with practically photographed landscapes from New Zealand and Alaska. If only its filmmakers trusted in its potential audience a little more, and respected their intelligence, instead of trying to spoon-feed them bromides and dumb jokes.

Housed in a regular plastic Blu-ray case with a complementary cardboard slipcover, Walking With Dinosaurs comes to home video in a two-disc Blu-ray/DVD combo pack, inclusive of a digital HD copy of the movie, playable on smart phones, computers, tablets and televisions. Its DTS-HD 5.1 master audio track captures a nice range of foleyed effects work, and its 1080p, 2.39:1 widescreen presentation gives nice platform to some vivid, striking visuals. Optional subtitles are also included in a robust array of 10 languages — including both Russian and Ukrainian, which could conceivably bring together some Eastern Bloc bootleggers, right?

In addition to the requisite chapter stops, bonus features include an “ultimate dino guide,” which provides overviews of almost a dozen different dinosaur species featured in the movie, each running a couple minutes long. There’s also an interactive map, which allows for youngsters to click and identify different species, and (presumably) test their learning. A trivia track and trailer are included too, along with a rather wince-inducing “Orange Carpet Dino Rap,” featuring Benjamin Flores, Jr., of The Haunted Hathaways. To purchase the combo pack via Amazon, click here; to purchase via Half, click here. Or if a local brick-and-mortar establishment is still your preferred retailer, by all means, go that route. C- (Movie) C+ (Disc)

The punishingly witless action flick Homefront is more a movie from the 1980s than of these times. Starring in a script from Expendables mate Sylvester Stallone, Jason Statham delivers all the expected scowls and growls, but there’s no originality, nuance or even dumb-fun catharsis to recommend this inept exercise in punch-’em-up justice.



Statham (skating through this material, his glowering charisma set comfortably on autopilot) stars as Phil Broker, an undercover DEA agent by way of Interpol who’s working to bring down a Louisiana biker gang peddling meth when things go sideways. Flash forward a couple years, to when retired single dad Broker’s 10-year-old daughter Maddy (Izabela Vidovic) has a schoolyard altercation with a bullying classmate. The offending kid’s junkie mother, Cassie (Kate Bosworth), takes exception and leans on her meth-cooking, boat mechanic brother Gator, (James Franco), to try to intimidate the small town newcomer.

When Gator finds out about Broker’s past, however, he sees an opportunity. Hoping to ingratiate himself with those who can expand his little drug empire, Gator taps his carnal acquaintance Sheryl (Winona Ryder) to offer up Broker’s location and identity to the imprisoned gangster whose son was killed in the aforementioned undercover sting gone wrong. Said crime boss then dispatches an emissary, Cyrus (Chuck Zito), who turns out to be even more of a psychopath than Gator, putting Broker and many others in danger.

Homefront is adapted from one of a series of novels by Chuck Logan featuring the character of Broker, and there’s the core of an interesting, layered study of modern-day rural rot here — of a morally compromised sheriff who probably doesn’t really want the worst for his town, and other characters who at various points recognize the danger of things spinning out of control. Any subtext from the novel, though, is sacrificed at the altar of lowest-common-denominator stupidity.

Stallone’s screenplay is full of empty, puffed-up talk of “backwoods reckoning.” It doesn’t effectively sketch out Gator’s villainous plot, and if his absence of a good plan is really the point, it doesn’t successfully exploit that either. Instead, the script ineffectually passes the baton of chief threat back and forth between Gator and Cyrus, tossing in some tone-deaf matchmaking instincts on the part of Maddy, who surely wouldn’t mind her dad getting together with school psychiatrist Susan (Rachelle Lefevre). The fumbled result plays like a dumb-jock, steroidal riff on Walking Tall, or a cousin of 1989 cult classic Road House, minus any of the latter’s fun or sense of self-awareness.

Cinematographer Theo Van De Sande captures what pungent, on-location humidity of the Louisiana bayou he can, but is undercut by the dictums of action-thriller filmmaking. Director Gary Fleder has a filmography that leans more on dramatic and psychological thrillers, a fact that certainly shows when it comes time for Homefront‘s fisticuffs and explosions, which are terribly staged, with Fleder and editor Padraic McKinley committing spatial awareness homicide via quick cuts from contrasting angles.

Housed in a regular plastic blue case, Homefront comes to home video in a two-disc Blu-ray/DVD combo pack, complete with an Ultraviolet digital HD download code for the movie, allowing for playback on televisions, computers, tablets and smartphones. In addition to the requisite chapter stops, supplemental features consist of a three-minute EPK featuring a few interview clips with the major players, plus an eight-minute-plus collection of deleted scenes that focuses chiefly on Broker’s relationship with Maddy. To purchase the Blu-ray/DVD combo pack via Amazon, click here; to purchase via Half, click here. Or if brick-and-mortar retail establishments are still your thing, by all means, have a go at that. D+ (Movie) C- (Disc)

Given the critical and commercial success of Louie, from Louis C.K., it made sense for FX President John Landgraf to look to other comedians to try to replicate the highly personal, low-cost template, allowing experienced stand-ups a high degree of creative control in exchange for short-run commitments. Of course, with It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia to even Wilfred, FX has also had a history of some success of its own with shows built around unpleasant and/or arguably sociopathic protagonists. And at that intersection we arrive at Legit, starring Australian-born Jim Jefferies.



Hatched with showrunner Peter O’Fallon, Legit stars Jefferies as a same-named, edgy, foul-mouthed comedian living in Los Angeles, and struggling to take his life and career in more respectable directions. By Jim’s side are his neurotic roommate and best friend Steve (Dan Bakkedahl), and Steve’s wheelchair-bound brother, Billy (DJ Qualls), as well as Steve and Billy’s mother, Janice (Mindy Sterling, a comedic pro), and Jim’s girlfriend Peggy (Ginger Gonzaga).

Jefferies robustly embodies his larger-than-life persona (think a slightly more coarse, less mystic Russell Brand, if you’ve never seen or heard him), so of course there is drug abuse, casual misogyny and jokes at the expense of Billy’s muscular dystrophy. The bickering and at times fairly abusive nature of the core relationships at the show’s center — and how they intersect with Jefferies’ blithe self-absorption — are the series’ gasoline, and the voluble star is basically a struck match, flicked to the edge of proceedings.

This gives the show a (purposefully) uncomfortable quality that is at times quite mesmerizing. Yet Jefferies allegedly found roots for more than half of Legit‘s first season storylines in real-life incidents, friends and acquaintances, which may explain some of its growing pains. The show doesn’t always feel completely relaxed and at home in its sketching out of Jefferies’ career up to this point, so it can’t always reliably plumb an established persona in the context of its various scenarios. Certain bits (the dressing down of an obnoxious airline passenger, for instance) play out as unruly wish fulfillment, while others (there’s an episode where Jefferies seeks advice from Loveline‘s Dr. Drew Pinsky about sex addiction, and then tries to act on said advice) feel like scrupulously story-broken plotlines.

Housed in a clear plastic Amaray case with a snap-in tray, Legit: The Complete First Season comes to DVD spread out over two dual layer discs, presented in 1.78:1 widescreen, with Dolby digital 5.1 surround sound audio tracks and optional English SDH, separate English and Spanish subtitles. Bonus features are a nice grab-bag, anchored by a 39-minute director’s cut of the series’ pilot that includes a cameo from Eddie Izzard, as well as episodic audio commentaries in which Jefferies, Bakkedahl and O’Fallon crack wise and foul.

There are also around 10 minutes of deleted scenes, a hefty gag reel that clocks in at around 15 minutes, and a two-minute bit which amusingly autotunes a bunch of lines from a supporting character. The best supplemental bonus feature, however, just might be “Jim Jefferies’ Journey,” which serves as a repository for more than 26 minutes of its star’s improvisation. To purchase the DVD set via Amazon, click here; to purchase via Half, click here. Or if it’s your inclination, by all means support your local brick-and-mortar establishment. B- (Show) A- (Disc)

A tightly wound, character-rooted crime drama about desperate, on-the-margin characters, director Tze Chun’s crisp, atmospheric Cold Comes the Night never dims as an engaging actor’s showcase, even as it trades in and fumbles away some of the unpleasantness that would help it stake its claim as a contemporary neo-noir classic the likes of which John Dahl would appreciate.



The film centers around Chloe (Alice Eve), a single mother who lives with her daughter Sophia (Ursula Parker) in a rundown, upstate-New York, pit-stop motel inherited from her father. For extra cash, Chloe halfheartedly takes part in a kickback scheme contrived with crooked cop Billy (Logan Marshall-Green) to let local hookers utilize her establishment with customers. With social services breathing down her neck, though, Chloe is already looking for a change of pace and scenery when an argument at her property one night escalates to murder. The next day, Topo (Bryan Cranston), a nearly blind criminal bagman, takes Chloe and Sophia hostage, forcibly enlisting Chloe’s assistance in retrieving a valuable package from the impounded vehicle of his murdered associate. Chess-move head games ensue.

Chun crafts an austere, authentically chilly work that could convincingly open a double bill with something like Sam Raimi’s A Simple Plan. But at the heart of Cold Comes the Night is Eve’s mesmerizingly rundown performance, a thing of damaged grace. If Cranston’s thick accent is hit-and-miss, and the actor-ly rationale for having Topo be Polish rather wanly exploited for only surface-level intrigue, Chun’s film affords Eve the opportunity to anchor a movie without having to disrobe or play dumb. Some of her interactions with young Parker are heartbreaking snapshots of the sort of stories parents tell to shield their children from harsh truths (Chloe tells Sophia that since she has 22 bathrooms, more than the Buckingham Palace, she’s technically a princess), and especially early on there’s a welcome weariness to Eve’s portrayal that tells us Chloe has internalized all the beatdowns and letdowns and regret that life has dealt her. It’s the much more interesting (and intelligent) way to play this character.

Co-written by Chun, Oz Perkins and Nick Simon (no relation), Cold Comes the Night gets a lot right by way of its attention to the details of its surroundings. If there’s a failing here, it’s that the film tries to wrap things up too neatly. A messier, more ambiguous final reel would have felt more realistic. Given the relative sophistication on display with respect to the restraint it displays in its first two-thirds, the movie’s payoffs are in lump sum more disappointing than cathartic. Still, noir fans would do well to seek out this flick, which suffered a blink-and-you-missed-it theatrical release early in the year from Stage 6 Films.

Housed in a standard Blu-ray case, Cold Comes the Night comes to the format on an AVC-encoded disc, presented in 1.78:1 widescreen, with a DTS-HD 5.1 master audio track and a wide variety of subtitle options. In addition to the requisite chapter selection and a clutch of previews for other Sony home video titles, the only supplemental bonus feature is a collection of deleted scenes that runs approximately 13 minutes. To purchase the Blu-ray via Amazon, click here; to purchase it via Half, click here. B (Movie) C+ (Disc)

In my latest spin around Blu-ray and DVD releases over at ShockYa, I take a look at the new FX series The Americans, Tsui Hark’s Young Detective Dee: Rise of the Sea Dragon, the Oscar-nominated documentary Cutie and the Boxer, Naruto Shippuden: Blood Prison, To Dance Like a Man and more. If interested in taking a gander, click here.

Form wins out over formula in The Invoking, a low-budget psychological horror picture from director Jeremy Berg and co-writer John Portanova. While a lot of calling-card-type independent genre productions overreach in an effort by the makers to confirm their genius with a splashy, authoritative stamp, sometimes merely solid albeit familiar storytelling is the best way to make a statement.

The Invoking centers around Samantha Harris (Trin Miller), a young girl raised by foster parents who inherits a house in rural Sader Ridge from her late aunt. Gathering up friends Roman (Josh Truax), Caitlin (Andi Norris) and Mark (Brandon Anthony), Samantha leads a road trip to inspect the property. Not long after arriving and meeting the requisite creep caretaker (D’Angelo Midili), however, Samantha starts to experience horrific visions that seem related to her buried past. Bad happenings ensue, with broader consequences for all involved.

Berg keeps things moving at a decent clip (the movie is a mere 82 minutes), sometimes so quickly that one wishes there were a chance to sink into moodiness to a greater degree. But if The Invoking treads mostly familiar territory, its cast is game, all delivering naturalistic, relaxed performances that help give the material a greater emotional mooring and resonance.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case in turn stored in a complementary cardboard slipcover, The Invoking comes to DVD presented in a 1.78:1 widescreen transfer, with a Dolby digital 5.1 surround sound audio track. Bonus features consist of two separate audio commentary tracks — one with Berg and producers of the movie, heavy on shooting and pre-production anecdotes, and the other a bit more loose-limbed, with the actors — as well as a behind-the-scenes featurette that thankfully sidesteps the lazy recycling of movie clips. To purchase the DVD via Amazon, click here; if Half is more your style, click here. C+ (Movie) C+ (Disc)

A smart, sophisticated, well-ordered romantic drama set mostly against the backdrop of well-off and carefree Brazil in the 1950s, director Bruno Barreto‘s Reaching for the Moon is built around an engagingly melancholic turn from Miranda Otto as real-life American poet Elizabeth Bishop. Yet this isn’t a typically showy awards-bait type of film; it benefits from its subject’s lesser known stature, as well as nicely interwoven ribbons of restraint and intelligence, which help cast a light on the less frequently discussed nature of restive ambivalence that can often be a part of the creative process.



Grappling with depression and writer’s block, Bishop (Otto) decides to leave New York City in the winter of 1951, and travel to Rio de Janeiro to visit an old American ex-pat college friend, Mary Morse (Tracy Middendorf). There, on the sprawling rural estate Mary shares with her bohemian partner of more than a decade, Brazilian architect Lota de Macedo Soares (Glória Pires), Bishop settles in for a short stay, planning to head to other ports in South America after five days. Instead, an unlikely love affair with Lota blossoms, and the years slip away. Various obstacles — including Bishop’s ongoing fight with alcoholism, a national military coup and the awkward reintegration of Mary into their lives, along with her adoption of a baby with Lota — tatter and fray their relationship, but Bishop and Lota retain a bond that lasts well into the 1960s, before its tragic end.

Inspired by the nonfiction book Rare and Commonplace Flowers, by Carmen Lucia de Oliveira, Reaching for the Moon eschews a lot of the stodgy stumbling blocks that weigh down period piece dramas by simply refusing to be pinned down. Is this a Sapphic love triangle, a more straightforward biopic of Bishop, a South American political drama, or a bit of all three? Barreto and screenwriters Matthew Chapman, Julie Sayres and Carolina Kotscho find ways to illuminate Bishop’s stature (a phone call from Aldous Huxley after having received word of winning the Pulitzer Prize), but don’t get bogged down in hero worship. In fact, their movie is as much about the anxiety surrounding creativity as any actual works of art.

In this regard, the movie’s fairly conservative budget works to its advantage, ensuring a relatively compressed timeline and narrative focus. The film, Barreto’s nineteenth, is stately throughout, from Marcelo Zarvos’ quietly seductive score to cinematographer Mauro Pinheiro savvy touch with both lush landscapes and spatial relationships, the latter of which fluctuate to help illustrate at first burgeoning and then dwindling intimacy between characters.

If there are shortcomings, one is that Reaching for the Moon only faintly touches upon Bishop’s gifts as a writer. Additionally, Lota’s family friendship with rightwing politician Carlos Lacerda (Marcello Airoldi), integral to her selection for important design work on the capital city’s evocative Flamengo Park, is sketched out in functional strokes that don’t do full justice to Lota’s strong opinions. The former limitation is notably more of a sin of omission, and will bother viewers mostly according to their familiarity with Bishop and/or their desire for a more clearly centralized main character. The latter failing, however, renders certain third act sequences dry and pedantic.

Pires, in her first English language role, is adept at wielding Lota’s brassy directness as a weapon. Otto’s performance, meanwhile, is a delicate and superb thing — and especially heartening since so many films with an alcoholic protagonist cede the entirety of their personality to that disease. Here, Bishop’s reliance upon drinking (and, indeed, even drinking to excess) is shown, but she’s a functioning alcoholic, and seemingly drawn to booze as a self-medicating attempt to ameliorate her chances at avoiding a family history of mental illness — something which the movie intriguingly hints at, but could plumb to even deeper and more satisfying effect.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, Reaching for the Moon comes to DVD presented in 1.85:1 anamorphic widescreen transfer, with a Dolby digital 5.1 surround sound audio track and optional English language closed captioning/SDHH. Alongside the movie’s theatrical trailer, the only other supplemental feature is a brief making-of featurette. The film’s marketing as an epic lesbian love story may relegate it to niche status, even within arthouse circles. That’s a bit of a shame, though, since Reaching for the Moon offers up a lot of other things upon which to reflect. To purchase the DVD via Half, click here; if Amazon is totally your thing, meanwhile, click here. B- (Movie) C+ (Disc)

For years, in movies like Over Her Dead Body and No Strings Attached, Lake Bell has played the best friend or colorful third lead, exhibiting a nice instinct for comic timing. With her superb directorial debut, Bell has finally blossomed, creating a wonderful showcase for her true voice.



And what a voice it is, too. Winner of the Waldo Salt Screenwriting Award at last year’s Sundance Film Festival, In a World… is a sharply sketched, wonderfully cast ensemble dramedy set against the backdrop of the cutthroat movie-trailer voiceover world. (The title is a tip of the hat to the late Don LaFontaine, and the baritone phrase he used to kick off many trailers.) Funny, fresh and populated with engaging and relatable characters that behave in recognizably human ways, it’s a true indie treat — easily one of the year’s best comedies.

Chocolate velour track suit-clad Sam Sotto (Fred Melamed) is nearing the end of a long and successful career as a voiceover artist. That doesn’t mean he’s any less egotistical, however. When he casts his underachieving, emotionally wayward adult daughter, Carol Solomon (Bell), out of his house to make room for his new, 30-year-old fiancée, Jamie (Alexandra Holden), Sam paints it as just another gesture of his largesse (“I’m helping her by not helping her”).

Carol is a part-time vocal coach looking to stamp out the spreading virus of affected “sexy baby” voices in women, but she also needs a place to live. While crashing for a bit with her sister Dani (Michaela Watkins) and brother-in-law Moe (Rob Corddry), Carol books her first voiceover gig with the assistance of an awkward but charming sound engineer, Louis Parker (Demetri Martin). Soon, she has the inside track on her father’s mentee and the industry’s rising star, Gustav Warner (Ken Marino), to do the voiceover for the adaptation of the hot Amazon Games franchise, the next big young-adult novel property. Sam, however, may not be ready to go quietly into the night.

In a World… does something few films do, let alone few directorial debuts — it takes a completely unique setting and story, and then executes on that winning plot without really ringing a false note. Plot-wise, the film is actually kind of overstuffed, with bisecting love triangles and churned-up family issues and comedic misunderstandings that would play in an old vaudevillian routine. But it all works, because each ingredient is fresh and the casserole is so well tended to.

Bell takes notions of arrested development and breathes them into various characters, but in a manner that makes sense specifically for them. She also doesn’t sandbag or sell short her characters. It’s unsurprising that Carol is well-written, since Bell is playing the lead. But even a supporting character like Jamie is given a great, honest character arc; she’s no mere empty-headed trophy wife, despite appearances. Bell proves equally as at home writing character-based comedy — there’s a sisterly discussion of “just the tip,” awkward posturing by Moe when a neighbor has to use his shower, and plenty moments of quirky workplace recording humor — as she is tossing out Great Gatsby and Cranberries references, or one-liners about Life Savers.

Most of all, Bell is abetted by a great cast. Melamed (A Serious Man) is fantastic, as is Martin. Bell and Watkins have a wonderful rapport, and there’s even a surprising tenderness and emotional connection to a romantic rekindling Dani and Moe share. In a World… may be a bit roughhewn for some tastes, but it’s so alive, identifiably clumsy and deliciously complicated — so of the real world — as to put a smile on viewers’ faces.

Based on its replay value alone, Bell’s film is a “library title,” worthy of purchase more than rental. But it also has a nice home video presentation, coming to Blu-ray via a solid 1080p high definition transfer presented in a 2.40:1 aspect ratio that preserves the framing of its original theatrical distribution. In addition to English and French language 5.1 DTS-HD master audio tracks, there’s also a Spanish language 5.1 Dolby digital audio track and optional subtitles in all languages. Its bonus features are anchored by a feature-length audio commentary track from Bell, in which she sprinkles in liberal good-natured production anecdotes with more serious-minded stories about its winding development path, and thoughts about its themes.

Additionally, there’s an alternate opening sequence to the film, a collection of a half dozen promotional trailers centered around characters within the film (and its Amazon Games film-within-the-film, which features Cameron Diaz), plus a four-minute gag reel that blends together gaffes along with some improvisation. Running almost 15 minutes, meanwhile, a collection of nine deleted scenes provides a glimpse of a longer vision of the movie, via the further fleshing out of the relationship between Corddry and Watkins’ characters. To purchase the Blu-ray via Half, click here; otherwise, by all means, patronize your favorite local brick-and-mortar establishment. A- (Movie) B+ (Disc)

“There is a fate worse than death,” posits the back cover of the new-to-DVD horror flick Voodoo Possession, starring Danny Trejo. Yes, and it might involve being locked in a room with Jessica Simpson, and this schlock stuck on an alternating repeating loop along with some irritating indie tripe.

Burdened by guilt and other unresolved feelings, Aiden Chase (Ryan Caltagirone) strikes out for a Haitian mental asylum in search of his brother Cody (David Thomas Jenkins), a doctor who’s gone missing. With his television producer ex-girlfriend Bree (Kerry Knuppe) arranging to enter the country under the guise of a documentary film crew, Aiden, once there, discovers that his brother was dabbling in black magic and voodoo with his charges. A bunch of the inmates/patients seem possessed by a bloodthirsty spirit, as does a decidedly menacing hospital administrator (Trejo). Aiden, then, must delve into this unsettling world in an effort to rescue his sibling.

Written and directed by Walter Boholst, Voodoo Possession doesn’t exactly aim for high art, it’s true, but it also doesn’t really connect on a basic level as a piece of trashy, down-and-dirty genre entertainment. Truth be told, none of this is really the fault of Trejo, who simply shows up and cashes in on his previously established presence in a supporting role. The film features a nice central setting, and production designer Kalie Acheson achieves good work on a budget, but its dialogue and plotting are frequently insipid, and Boholst and director of photography Matthias Schubert overdo all the stylistic flourishes, in an attempt to prop up writing and performances that just don’t work.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case stored in turn in an attractive, complementary cardboard slipcover, Voodoo Possession comes to DVD presented in a decent 2.35:1 widescreen transfer, with a Dolby digital 5.1 surround sound audio track. Apart from the obligatory chapter stops, bonus features consist only of a short and rather self-congratulatory behind-the-scenes featurette. Still, to purchase the DVD via Half, click here; to purchase it via Amazon, click here. Or if brick-and-mortar establishments are totally still your thing, by all means, have a go at one of those. D (Movie) C- (Disc)

In my latest spin around Blu-ray and DVD releases over at ShockYa, I take a look at the yawning inessentiality of The Wolverine, the documentary Linsanity, Jim Breuer’s latest stand-up special, a movie about a massacre at a porn shoot called Porn Shoot Massacre, another movie about a big-ass spider entitled Big Ass Spider! and more. If interested in taking a gander, click here.

Once again proving that being original isn’t necessarily synonymous with being good, Cassadaga flirts with conventions of both paranormal horror films and more traditional serial killer thrillers. The independent production, which debuted at Screamfest over two years ago, aims to be a more character-rooted chiller, but it mainly ends up being a boring slog that unconvincingly tracks into slasher territory in its final act.

Ostensibly named for a small, real-life Florida community of mediums and spiritualists, Cassadaga centers around Lily Morel (Kelen Coleman), a post-lingually deaf artist and teacher who, following the untimely death of her beloved younger sister, is trying to pick up the pieces of her life and move on. When she meets Mike (Kevin Alejandro), the handsome father of one of her students, Haley (Rachel DuRose), things seem to be looking up. After Lily participates in a séance and ends up making contact with the vengeful ghost of a woman murdered long ago, however, things take a turn for the worse, leading to a killer who likes to turn his victims into human marionette dolls. And is that killer named Geppetto, you ask? Yes, yes he is.

Writer-producers Bruce Wood and Scott Poiley succeed in keeping some of the more tawdry, base-level instincts of genre filmmaking at bay, and for a while that makes Cassadaga seem classy and interesting. But despite the humid and potentially intriguing backdrop it affords, their script also seems desultory, marked by listless characters and indistinct dialogue. From the moment welcoming landlady Claire (Louise Fletcher) says to Lily, “That’s my grandson Thomas — he keeps to himself on the first floor…”, Cassadaga springs a slow leak. The rest of the movie is one big, long deflation, marked by a few moments of menacing violence.

With his mannered, non-exploitative take on the material, director Anthony DiBlasi succeeds in large measure in delivering a film that stands in distinct opposition to the clamorous, boo-scares editing of a lot of horror product. It’s shot fairly flatly, though, by cinematographer Jose Zambrano Cassella. And despite its thin sheen of refinement, Cassadaga still somehow manages to build to a scene of Lily running through the woods in a negligee, plus… sigh… a car chase, as if viewers somehow require an action sequence to pay off the narrative. Coleman is an attractive and sympathetic enough presence, but can’t hold viewers’ attention through long fallow patches. There’s simply not enough meat on this film’s bones, narratively speaking, to merit broader, general audience interest.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case in turn stored in a complementary cardboard slipcover, Cassadaga comes to DVD with rather drab and unimaginative cover art that doesn’t expend much effort trying to make a case for the things that set the movie apart. Presented in a 16×9 widescreen transfer, the movie is anchored by a 5.1 surround sound mix and optional English SDH and Spanish subtitles. Unfortunately, apart from the standard chapter stops, there aren’t any supplemental materials herein. To purchase the DVD via Half, click here; to purchase via Amazon, click here. Or if brick-and-mortar establishments are still your thing, by all means, feel free to have a go at that option as well. C- (Movie) D+ (Disc)

In my latest spin around Blu-ray and DVD releases over at ShockYa, I take a look at The Lone Ranger, Luc Besson’s witness protection mob comedy The Family, the 25th anniversary of Tom Hanks’ Big, The Mortal Instruments: City of Bones and more. If interested in taking a gander, click here.

An attractive and game cast helps elevate The Last Letter, a passably intriguing psychological thriller that seeks to fill a certain untapped African-American genre void.

The surface-level drama of The Last Letter is all too familiar. Newlyweds Catherine (Sharon Leal) and Michael Wright (Omari Hardwick) face the challenge of an in-law — in this case Michael’s stern mother, Lorraine (Lynn Whitfield) — who doesn’t approve of their union and isn’t afraid to let people know. This contributes to some tension and stress, as does Catherine’s desire to immediately start a family.

The additional rub, however, is that Catherine has harbored a secret — a crippling sleep disorder that puts her in situations she doesn’t remember, and blurs nightmare and reality. When she and Michael have sex during one of these blackout bouts, Catherine ends up getting pregnant. Then, her foster brother George (Gary Dourdan), with whom Catherine is still close, turns up, and along with him links to a dark and troubling incident from her past.

Writer-director Paul D. Hannah (Consinsual, The Marriage Chronicles) doesn’t necessarily have a handle on artful dialogue or slowly massaged mystery, but he knows how to effectively pull the levers of reaction, both sympathetic and more jangly. He’s abetted by some solid work from cinematographer Keith Smith and editors Willy Allen and Lisa Neidhardt, but mostly helped out by the cast.

Leal, who came to acclaim on the small screen with Boston Public and then had a little bit of a career pop with Dreamgirls, has otherwise remained achingly underutilized. The Last Letter isn’t high art, but it at least offers her a chance to play shades and degrees of withholding. She and Hardwick have a good rapport, and the rest of the film’s actors — including Richard T. Jones, Tatyana Ali, Rocsi Diaz and Bill Cobbs — capably breathe life into functional but well structured roles.

Housed in a regular, clear plastic Amaray case with a two-sided color cover, The Last Letter comes to DVD presented in a 2.35:1 widescreen aspect ratio, with a Dolby digital 5.1 surround sound audio track and optional close-captioning for the hearing impaired. Colors are fairly steady and consistent, and there are no issues with edge enhancement, but there is a bit of grain here and there. Apart from the standard-issue chapter stops, there is unfortunately no supplemental material contained herein. To purchase the DVD via Half, click here. Or if brick and mortar retail and/or digital download are your thing, by all means, have at those options. C+ (Movie) C (Disc)

In my latest spin around Blu-ray and DVD releases over at ShockYa, I take a look at the third installment of the Iron Man franchise, horror anthology V/H/S 2, a sequel that really has nothing to do with 2011’s Fright Night remake, a bunch of TV series and more. If interested in taking a gander, click here.

In my latest spin around Blu-ray and DVD releases over at ShockYa, I take a look at the most recent Family Guy collection, the Blu-ray debut of King Vidor’s 1925 silent masterpiece The Big Parade, the documentary Dark Girls, and more. If interested in taking a gander, click here.

Multi-hyphenate Matthew Bora’s low-budget horror flick Fear the Forest co-stars Anna Kendrick. No, no… not that Anna Kendrick. A different one. But if I were Bora, I’d be slapping her name instead of my own above the title and everywhere else, even at the risk of courting some lawsuit, since there’s nothing else other than aggressively pursued consumer confusion to recommend this bloated slice of indie schlock.

After a flashback opening linking a ghost-like creature to Native Americans, Fear the Forest lurches into the present day, in Mohawk Valley, New York, where a bunch of kids journey deep into the woods for a weekend getaway. Naturally, deaths ensue, while air-quote production value is achieved via motocross footage and a tipped-over canoe.

Because Bora is swinging for the fences, there’s some plot nonsense about a governor’s daughter, and plenty of phony, risible political intrigue. Basically all this means, however, is that Fear the Forest is both terrible and long (110 minutes), since its acting is awful, its dialogue ridiculous (“Girl, you are all that and a bag of chips!”) and its story a mixed-up hodge-podge of stolen ideas executed much better almost anywhere else.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case with a push-in spindle, Fear the Forest comes to DVD presented in 1.78:1 widescreen, with an English language 2.0 stereo audio track. In addition to the movie’s trailer and a pair of music videos, supplemental bonus material consists of five minutes of deleted scenes, as well as a hearty collection of behind-the-scenes and making-of featurettes totaling nearly 60 minutes. All of the on-set interviews are of course of the rather self-congratulatory variety, and the attention to detail is tipped off by the fact that some material refers to the movie as Fear the Forest and other just Fear Forest. F (Movie) B- (Disc)

A suspense-free indie flick supernatural horror offering that pretty much serves as on-the-job training for all involved, Aberration is lacking across the board, both technically and narratively.

Caught up between high school frenemies Elliott (Cal Thomas) and Kyle (Kristian Capalik), Christy (Gwendolyn Garver) is a normal-ish teenage girl, but she also hides a secret — namely, that she’s plagued by terrifying visions of a ghostly, sunken-eyed young boy (Austin Kieler) who is decidedly not Haley Joel Osment. When one of her dreams comes true and a classmate turns up dead, Christy begins to suspect that her only hope of survival is to uncover the truth behind a mystery that has shrouded her entire town in terror.

Director Douglas Elford-Argent, working from a script by Wendy Elford-Argent, leans heavily on clichéd modes of stimulus goosing, to little effect. He and cinematographer Marc Menet drag out the official Simon West Colored Filters Starter Kit™, but it comes across as empty and showy rather than part of some unified visual theory for the material. And that material, by the way, so lacks in escalating tension that it leaves many of the actors herein to founder about, clearly out of their element.

Housed in a regular Amaray case, Aberration comes to DVD presented in a 2.35:1 anamorphic widescreen aspect ratio, with a Dolby digital 5.1 surround sound audio track and optional English subtitles for the deaf and hard of hearing. Naturally it also includes chapter stops, but there are otherwise no supplemental materials on the release. D- (Movie) D (Disc)