Film Review: Triple Frontier

"You've Been Shot Five Times For Your Country And You Can't Even Afford A New Truck..."

Hot off the heels of winning the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film in the form of the excellent and beautiful Roma, Netflix returns to the land of small screen blockbusters with Triple Frontier, a dramatic blend of action and heist movie with a top notch, a-list cast and helmed by A Most Violent Year and Margin Call director, J. C. Chandor. Featuring a screenplay from both Chandor and Mark Boal, the acclaimed writer behind The Hurt Locker and Zero Dark Thirty, Triple Frontier sees Oscar Isaac (The Last Jedi) as Santiago Garcia, a private military advisor who after being tipped off about the location of a paranoid, cash-rich drug lord, forms a band of merry mercenaries and ventures into the jungle in order to steal what he believes is rightfully his after years of service to war without any just reward. With Chandor previously showcasing his realist cinematic sensibility with A Most Violent Year, Triple Frontier continues the director's hard-edged approach to filmmaking with a release which attempts to be much more than just a sub-standard testosterone-fuelled action flick, and whilst there is an underlying interesting notion regarding greed and the psychological cost of combat, Chandor's latest is still a rather generic and slightly overlong cliche which just happens to have a superb cast to push it along nicely.  

Glossed with a primary aesthetic which comes across as a hybrid between the dusty, anti-Western feel of Sicario and the militaristic sheen of Michael Mann, Triple Frontier begins with an Ocean's 11 style team-up as we see Isaac's Pope journey back into the lives of his previous Army colleagues as he attempts to woo them with an endless supply of cash which is there for the taking from the hands of Reynaldo Gallegos's drug lord, Lorea. Cue a rather enjoyable opening act in which we are treated to laddish interactions between Pope, Ben Affleck's (Gone Girl) Redfly, Charlie Hunnam's (Pacific Rim) Ironhead and Pedro Pascal's (Narcos) Catfish, as they finally agree to work together, The Expendables style, in order to carry out their unethical and highly illegal mission. Whilst there is no spoilers in saying the initial part of the heist goes without any major issues, Chandor's primary point of the movie comes into fruition just past the hour mark as we witness our leading band of war-torn killers turn on each other, and whilst I appreciate any movie which attempts to rise above its' generic conventions, Triple Frontier just becomes way too plodding as we strive through an hour of fairly repetitive set pieces as we witness the group attempt to make their escape. With a full-on level of dedication from the cast however and the likes of Isaac and strangely enough, Hunnam, on top acting form, Chandor's movie falls into the category of interesting, yet flawed, but does ultimately go down as another success for Netflix. Oh, and Chandor must love Metallica which is always a good note in my book. 

Overall Score: 6/10

Film Review: Velvet Buzzsaw

"You Ever Notice Anything About This Painting? If You Look At It Long Enough, It Moves..."

Ever since Jake Gyllenhaal (Nocturnal Animals) and Dan Gilroy combined back in 2014 to create one of the most compelling and cinematic contemporary thrillers in the form of Nightcrawler, the knowledge that both would reunite once again upon the Netflix format seemed apt considering the streaming company's pedigree for allowing particular directors to drop their hands into an endless pot of money and do pretty much whatever they want in return for complete release rights. Moving away from the world of drama for the time being after the middling success of last year's Roman J. Israel, Esq., Gilroy's latest in the form of Velvet Buzzsaw sees the American go full on B-Movie silliness which just happens to have a top of the line A-star cast. Led once again by the enviable talents of Gyllenhaal, Gilroy's latest sees the American as a dedicated, if slightly exaggerated, art critic, who after the discovery of a never before seen body of work by a deceased, isolated hermit by the name of Ventril Dease, soon becomes obsessed with the idea that his paintings are somehow responsible for a strange series of accident related deaths and sudden unexplained disappearances. 

With the likes of Nightcrawler managing to balance just right the tonal balance between jet black comedy and full on dramatic seriousness, Velvet Buzzsaw suffers primarily from never really managing to settle on such a healthy synchronisation, with Gilroy's latest not ripe enough to to be placed in the realm of full on, exploitation greatness, with an element of horror which never at all comes across as either faintly scary or tense, and likewise, never really manages to grasp a serious approach either, resulting in a strange blend of the stylish perfection of something like Nocturnal Animals and the goofiness of Ghostbusters, just without managing to secure the sheer brilliance of either. With an underlying notion riding through the screenplay regarding a seemingly personal led attack stemmed from the mind of Gilroy and his personal feelings regarding either the shallowness of the art world or the uptight nature of criticism in any shape or form, Velvet Buzzsaw almost seems too shy to fully explore its' genre conventions, with the camera always peering away from death scenes and victims of murder, resulting in an underlying feeling that maybe the editor just felt a bit too twitchy showing the likes of Gyllenhaal come face to face with his inevitable fate. Whilst it is always entertaining to witness top level actors completely take to the silliness of a screenplay like Gilroy's with open arms and complete dedication, it comes as a slight shame that pretty much every single leading character within the drama is ultimately an absolute stinking moron with ponciness to burn, and whilst Velvet Buzzsaw doesn't even scratch the surface of the best that Gilroy can offer, Netflix's latest big name capture is silly, messy fun but not in any way memorable.  

Overall Score: 6/10

Film Review: Roma

"We Are Alone. No Matter What They Tell You, We Women Are Always Alone..."

Returning to the world of cinema for the first time since 2013's award winning science fiction extravaganza, Gravity, Alfonso Cuarón becomes the latest big name director to fall into the laps of Netflix with Roma, the self-defined most personal project yet for the Academy Award winning Mexican and a film which brings with it an abundance of hype and critical acclaim, with it already in Oscar contention after being put forward for Mexico's choice for Best Foreign Language film in time for next year's ceremony. With Cuarón stating the film is partially inspired by his own upbringing in Mexico City, his decision to produce, write, edit and provide the cinematography undeniably backs up the notion of the Mexican's personal attachment to the project, and with a completely unknown cast to work with, Roma is a relatively simplistic but achingly beautiful work of cinematic art which on first view seemed misguided but on second felt completely wondrous. With the likes of Prisoner of Azkaban and Children of Men in his back pocket, it's understandable that many audiences will head into Roma expecting similar levels of world building epicness, but with Cuarón choosing to return to his native Mexico for the first time since 2001's, Y Tu Mamá También, Roma is a film which revels in its' own sense of scale in its' own, alternative ways as it works its' way through a naturalistic yet dramatic central narrative in a way which for some may seem utterly wasted but for most is a truly impressive and unforgettable work of cinema. 

Primarily walking through the events of the movie through the eyes of Yalitza Aparicio's, Cleo, a hard-working and loyal maid residing in the household of Marina de Tavira's, Sofia, Roma is a low-key, familial, almost soap-esque drama wrapped in the blankets of a modern day epic, one which manages to sift through a wide range of ideas and themes in its' two hour runtime even when ninety percent of the film consists of deep contemplation and a tendency for mood rather than heavy plot exposition. With Cuarón utilising the character of Cleo to not only bear witness to her own trials and tribulations but that of the wider historical context too, a harrowing re-staging of the Corpus Christi massacre and the aftermath of deadly earthquakes potentially poke a hole into the life of a once young Cuarón, and with a central theme running through the entirety of the movie like a vicious spike through the heart regarding the weakness of man and particularly, man's inability to take control in the face of responsibility, it's fair to say that Roma more than anything seems to be an avenue for the Mexican to speak out against his view on fatherhood and potentially the rather negative light he saw such a crucial role when growing up on the streets of Mexico City. Aided by a catalogue of understated yet brilliant central performances from the army of seemingly professional unknowns and amateurs, lead actress, Yalitza Aparicio, is simply stunning in conveying the many emotional highs and lows her character rides through and whilst the film is based around a screenplay in which very little is said, characters are developed through other, minimal means, with each delicately individual and defined within the backdrop of a production which oozes with a stunning level of authenticity which makes every single camera frame feel believable and heartfelt. 

Speaking of the camera, with Cuarón deciding to hire himself as the film's director of photography, one may envision a slight touch of trepidation regarding the film's handling of the cinematography, particularly when Cuarón has worked previously with the spellbinding talent of the various Academy Award winning Emmanuel Lubezki, but like any natural artist, Cuarón not only seems to have picked up tips from his various previous DP's throughout his career, but has managed to somehow equal such mastery with a simply gorgeous visual experience, one which blends stunning wide vistas ranging from woodland plains to the crashing of Moonlight inspired oceans, all sat within the forefront of a genuinely staggering chromatic filter. With the film moving from small, delicate insights to set pieces of epic proportions, including a central riot scene which immediately brought to mind the likes of Zulu or even The Dark Knight Rises, Cuarón's favoured and most obvious trick within the movie is the axle spin, with the camera at times wandering on a natural tilt as it follows characters and actions with a strange sense of invasion, and whilst the movie at times suffers from a resounding sense of being too on the nose regarding Cuarón's technical ability as a filmmaker, a particular weakness which sometimes outshines the flow of the very basic narrative, Roma gets away with it by being simply too beautiful to argue with. With the runtime spectacularly long for such a simplistic idea, there is an undeniable sense that maybe Cuarón should have left the editing to someone else, with a few too many lingering character shots and a bizarre David Lynch, Twin Peaks inspired scene not exactly aiding the runtime or the overarching point of the movie, but as a body of cinema, Roma is a film much like Moonlight in the sense that on first viewing may feel wholly disappointing and somewhat nonexistent, but like any true decent work of art, does not leave your mind and it was only on second viewing did I understand the minimalistic and personal nature of Cuarón's most ambitious movie to date, a film which blossoms with technical nuance and one which come the end of it, will leave you in an emotional wreck. 

Overall Score: 8/10

Film Review: Apostle

"Beware Of False Prophets Which Come To You In Sheep's Clothing..."

With an acute and overly clingy fondness for The Raid franchise ever since Iko Uwais first decided to clatter a room full of criminals in an exceptionally violent and undeniably impressive fashion on the orders of director, Gareth Evans, it's fair to say that no matter what the Welshman decides to take on next as a film project, I am instantly hooked and ready to savour whatever falls my way. Departing the world of Indonesian crime for the time being, Evans' latest, Apostle, drops onto Netflix this week, following on from the likes of big name directors such as Paul Greengrass and Alex Garland who have gleefully taken the steaming service's cash in order to develop their own movie on their own terms in return for exclusive streaming rights, and what Evans brings to the table is an overripe, hyper-violent and ridiculously entertaining period horror which revels in cramming together as many classic horror riffs as humanly possible into a narrative which sees Dan Stevens' (Legion) Thomas Richardson head to a remote island off the coast of Wales in order to infiltrate an extremist cult led by Michael Sheen's (Frost/Nixon) Prophet Malcolm who are holding his beloved sister hostage as they await payment from Richardson's rich father.

From the synopsis of Apostle alone, the immediate and obvious reference point is of course Robin Hardy's 1973 British horror classic, The Wicker Man, with Stevens essentially a covert cardboard cutout of Edward Woodward's Sgt. Neil Howie, albeit with lesser inner turmoils regarding the discovery of an extreme new religion and the fact that due to his willingness to remain hidden, violence could potentially reveal itself at any corner. Whilst the film seems to begin with an air of seriousness in its' introduction to Sheen's crazed cult leader and Lucy Boynton's (Murder on the Orient Express) reluctant daughter figure intent on being more than just the offspring of a prophet, the more the movie veers into a crazed blend of Silent Hill and the blood-splatting carnage of a film such as You're Next, the sillier it undeniably becomes, resulting in various X-rated set pieces which remind you that Gareth Evans really does like playing with things so over-the-top and bloodthirsty, they are guaranteed to make you squeal. Whilst the narrative does wander at times and the central mystery sort of veers off course in favour of the concluding bout of violence, the performances are dedicated, particularly from Sheen who gives his best blend of Shakespeare and Charles Manson as the leading antagonist, and the early twentieth century aesthetic is wonderfully creepy, and whilst the whole is indeed lesser than either of The Raid movies, Apostle is an interesting and very silly genre piece which ranks up there with the better originals to come from Netflix this year. 

Overall Score: 7/10

Film Review: July 22

"I Still Have Hope, Dreams, Family and Friends. And I Choose To Live..."

Based upon Åsne Seierstad's 2015 book, One of Us, a biographical account of the shocking 2011 Norway terror attacks carried out by lone wolf and far-right extremist, Anders Behring Breivik, director Paul Greengrass (The Bourne Ultimatum) returns with yet another intense and powerful cinematic adaptation of true events in the form of 22 July following on from the critically acclaimed one-two of United 93 and Captain Phillips in 2006 and 2013 respectively. Released simultaneously within a select amount of theatres and streaming exclusively and nationwide on the Netflix platform, Greengrass' latest is a stark, relentless and brilliantly acted attempt at highlighting on the one hand the sadistic, evilness of terror, and on the other, the power of unity and strength within a community riddled with tragedy and extreme loss, and whilst 22 July contains elements which rank up there with the most intelligent, albeit harrowing, works of cinema produced by Greengrass thus far in his rather exceptional back catalogue, the film as a whole fails to handle the subject matter with enough conviction to really scratch the surface of understanding the purpose of such despicable acts or the lingering effect it had on the wider populous, a particularly aggravating weakness considering such themes are ones the Greengrass undeniably knows how to convey when dealing with such tragic, contemporary events. 

With an agonsing and exceptionally difficult opening act in which we observe in documentary-like style the plans of Anders Behring Breivik fall into place, Greengrass chooses not to hide away from the violence carried out but also thankfully slides away from falling into the trap of over-sensationalising it too, with the first forty minutes at times simply unbearable as the camera follows Anders Danielsen Lie's (Personal Shopper) portrayal of Breivik as he increasingly and coldly murders his way through innocent lives in order to satisfy his political beliefs. After releasing the audience from the clutches of terror come the hour mark, the remaining ninety minutes is spent observing key characters in the events leading up to Breivik's trial, ranging from Jonas Strand Gravli's wounded young survivor to Jon Øigarden's portrayal of Geir Lippestad, the lawyer tasked with defending Breivik, and whilst Greengrass attempts at balancing the narrative to focus on the wider effect of Breivik's actions, the pacing and lack of depth results in the movie unfortunately sliding into a manner which can only be described as overly procedural and shockingly, rather plodding. Where the movie does ultimately work however is in the emotive-laden set pieces and concentration on the singular rather than the many, particularly a concluding court speech from Gravli's broken terror victim, and whilst Greengrass carries out the drama in efficient means, for a movie verging on two and a half hours worth of storytelling, July 22 struggles to justify such enormities and fails to hold the sheer starkness of a simply masterful opening act. 

Overall Score: 7/10

Film Review: Annihilation

"It's Not Destroying. It's Making Something New..."

Wowing audiences and critics alike in the past with screenplays for works of brilliance including 28 Days Later, Dredd, albeit unaccredited, and of course his masterful directorial debut in the form of 2015's Ex Machina, the breath of fresh air which is Britain's own, Alex Garland, returns this week with Annihilation, yet another hotly anticipated release which uses Netflix as its' chosen distributor in the UK after somehow failing to secure a deal for a nationwide cinematic release. Whilst Ex Machina was essentially a low-key, claustrophobic comment on the notion of artificial intelligence which always settled for brains over brass idiocy, going against the ilk and financial safety net of many contemporary sci-fi blockbusters, Garland's latest expands the film-making horizons of which genuinely interesting science fiction can be explored, a movie which although at times seems to not entirely piece together as smoothly as one would ultimately like, powerfully blends thought provoking notions of unidentified alien contact with nightmarish surrealist terror which both takes cues and evolves on from classic genre pieces of which the movie undeniably takes reference from. 

Based upon Jeff VanderMeer's 2014 novel of the same name, the first entry within the well received "Southern Reach Trilogy", Garland's movie focuses on Natalie Portman's, Lena, a former soldier turned biologist who after the mysterious year long absence of Oscar Isaac's (Star Wars: The Last Jedi) husband figure and current serving member of the U.S Army, Kane, embarks on a high risk expedition into the unknown phenomenon known as only as the "Shimmer" in order to find both an explanation behind its' origins and answers regarding Kane's sudden disappearance. Teaming up with Jennifer Jason Leigh's (The Hateful Eight) Dr. Ventress, a straight-faced terminally ill psychologist who takes lead of the group, and Tessa Thompson's (Thor: Ragnarok) somewhat timid and "damaged" physicist, Josie, among others, Annihilation explores a mode of discovery as we venture into the ambiguous "Shimmer" with Portman's Lena taking point as the audiences access into the surrealist undertakings our heroine witnesses through her journey into the unknown. With an opening thirty minutes which leans heavy on background details regarding Kane and Lena's unfaithful relationship and the apocalyptic nature of the "Shimmer" itself, the remaining runtime hands forth a narrative which keeps the audience on edge, forever guessing the threat which ultimately will be discovered as the cards reveal themselves come a Under the Skin inspired final act. 

Aided by an uncertain, uncomfortable sensibility, a tonal cornerstone which is completely rife from beginning to end, Annihilation is at times genuinely unnerving in nature, with minimal use of jump-scare tactics and a tendency for a complete lack of resolution regarding particular plot threads resulting in a Blair Witch style behaviour pattern in which the audience builds up tension ready to be alleviated but is instead left stranding and unsure of what to expect next. With the movie at times resorting to handheld footage in order to explore the outcome of previous expeditions within the "Shimmer", the Blair Witch similarities are abundantly clear, whilst it comes not much of a stretch to see the likes of the monster effects of The Thing, the surreal science fiction beauty of Arrival and the nihilistic low-key apocalyptic themes of the little seen mind bending Coherence within the DNA of the piece too, and whilst at times dialogue does seem a tad on the nose and the special effects not exactly pitch perfect, a surprising weakness considering the Oscar winning work of Ex Machina, Garland's latest is a wonderful work of science fiction cinema, one which will please genre fans from the outset and one which too leaves a lasting impression like all the best experimental works of art do so well. 

Overall Score: 8/10

Film Review: The Outsider

"You Are Not Yakuza. You Are A Gaijin. An Outsider..."

With Bright, Mute and The Cloverfield Paradox a trio of big budget movies which have used Netflix as the chosen platform for their respective release over the course of the past six months or so, it's fair to say that so far, critical consensus has been, let's just say, less than positive for anything with the Netflix branding tainted on it, aside from the likes of Okja and Annihilation which have seemingly broken the bog awful standard set so thus far. Another week, another small screen offering however, with Netflix turning to Jared Leto this time in The Outsider, a generic, yet overly functional, crime thriller which utilises the much commentated approach of placing the American in the heart of post-war Japan as he rises up the ranks of the Yakuza after saving the life of Tadanobu Asano's (Silence) long-serving crime boss, Kiyoshi, in prison. With a nihilistic, unnerving tone and both underwritten characters and subplots, director Martin Zandvliet's approach to handling the inclusion of Leto's wandering military ghost figure, Nick Lowell, is not exactly justified, with the narrative more focused on handling a whistle stop tour of violent deeds and double crossing than ever coming up with a valid reason for his inclusion in a primarily Japanese cast, but with enough style to at least hold your attention whilst it works its' way from A to B, The Outsider is just about good enough to warrant two hours of your in-home small screen. 

 With attention obviously centred around the fundamental plot hole regarding whether a titular "outsider", or in the words of the Japanese themselves, a "gaijin", would ever be allowed into the strict ruling of the Yakuza traditions, the idea itself is one of interesting possibilities, but with a narrative starved of substance and an overripe, unnecessary violent streak, The Outsider is strangely unimaginative, utilising generic tropes of in-house familial power struggles to carve out a strangely tacked-on ending after we witness Leto's Nick progress from messy haired prisoner to sharply dressed gangster with added cheekbones. Whilst the performance of Leto himself is similar to attempting Ryan Gosling's performance in Drive without half the acting ability or talent, his fundamental dullness is entirely down to the writing, where although the primary focus of the movie is seemingly meant to infiltrate the ways of the Yakuza through the eyes of a Westernised psychopath, the audience is instead left with an empty vessel which violently acts out whenever he feels the audience may be starting to lose patience. Whilst The Outsider is undeniably messy therefore and full of ludicrous implausibilities, Martin Zandvliet's latest still managed to keep me interested however, and for a film which manages to have so many weaknesses and still hold me until the end, something somewhere ultimately worked. 

Overall Score: 6/10

Film Review: Mute

"I Love You So Much Leo, But You Don't Know Me..."

Engaging with and including myself within the small minority who can actually stand up proudly and state that 2016's Warcraft was actually better than most critics gave the movie credit for, Duncan Jones' career has drifted from contemplative low-budget success story (Moon) to big budget science fiction spectacular (Source Code) in a reasonably swift amount of time, and with the release of Mute this week as the latest Netflix original after years of development hell, Jones' long-term project, one deemed as the "spiritual sequel" to 2009's Moon, is finally brought to life, if only on the small screen. Following Alexander Skarsgård's (The Legend of Tarzan) Leo, the titular mute barkeep who attempts to solve the mystery of Seyneb Saleh's Naadirah's sudden disapearance within the heart of a future-world Berlin, Jones' latest is unfortunately a cliched and utterly soulless Blade Runner rip-off, one which attempts to sew together a noir-esque primary plot thread amidst stereotypical Russian gangsters, The Fifth Element style campness and eerily ill-judged set pieces which are as ridiculous as they are jaw-droppingly stupid, resulting in Mute conforming to the fate of The Cloverfield Paradox by being yet another Netflix funded let down. 

With Sally Hawkins managing to convey both rigorous emotion and heartwarming depth to a character of similar ilk in Guillermo del Toro's The Shape of Water, the inclusion of Skarsgård's Leo, the speech-free central character of the piece, is somewhat gimmicky and undeniably underwritten, with Hawkins' character necessary in furthering the audience's understanding of the relationship between herself and Doug Jones' aquatic monster, a level of narrative depth which is completely absent from the entirety of Jones' screenplay, resulting in Skarsgård's performance coming off as nothing more than a growling, angst-ridden puppet which is used to facilitate the furthering of plot when necessary. Whilst the opening forty five minutes of the piece is somewhat interesting, even with a heavy handed dose of exposition which explains absolutely everything in a excruciatingly painful paint-by-numbers fashion, the film really turns after a showdown between Leo and Dominic Monaghan's sex facilitator on a bed next to a staggeringly imaginative pleasure doll which resulted in one of the biggest unintentional laughs I will have this year, and with the emergence of the similarly awful Paul Rudd (Ant Man) as the least threatening villain of the year so far and Justin Theroux's (Mulholland Drive) overly misjudged paedophilic sidekick, Mute turns overly wacky and staggeringly dull rather quickly and with a conclusion which doesn't entirely make up for the wait, Jones' latest is annoyingly his weakest work to date, and for a project which took more than a decade to bring to the screen, one could have argued it should have stayed on the cutting room floor. 

Overall Score: 4/10

Film Review: The Cloverfield Paradox

"I Don't Know What To Believe Anymore..."

Dropping out of nowhere and onto Netflix in a remarkably abnormal and somewhat anarchic fashion, The Cloverfield Paradox, the second sequel to Matt Reeves' 2008 shaky-cammed monster marathon Cloverfield after 2016's claustrophobic, 10 Cloverfield Lane, bears it teeth without any sign of meaningful marketing or propaganda-esque pushing aside from a thirty second trailer proceeding its' release only hours before its' availability worldwide on everyone's favourite streaming service. Whilst such a decision is undoubtedly refreshing and boundlessly groovy, the question remains whether the film itself is worthy addition to a franchise which deserves plaudits for its' adventurous attempts at building a somewhat Twilight Zone infused shared universe, and with a cast list featuring the likes of Gugu Mbatha-Raw (Miss Sloane), Daniel Brühl (Rush) and David Oyelowo (Selma), and a ideas-based narrative which attempts to solve the ambiguities of its' predecessors, The Cloverfield Paradox, on paper, has success stamped all over it. Unfortunately however, Netflix's latest high profile release is a ludicrous mess of a movie, one which begins in absorbing fashion with acres of room to flex its' muscles but then descends into a shark-jumping bore-fest which not only veers the franchise off course, but could potentially endanger it completely. 

Attempting to gel together the mystery at the heart of the franchise in regards to the origin of the destructive beast from the first entry, The Cloverfield Paradox, directed by big-time debutante, Julius Onah, follows Mbatha-Raw's Ava Hamilton as she crews up with her expeditious space team aboard the Cloverfield Station in order to test the particle accelerator by the name of "Shephard" which has been designed in order to combat the life-threatening global energy crisis on Earth. Mixing in elements of Interstellar, Event Horizon and in regards to its' dealings with augmented reality splits, the rather excellent, if little seen, Coherence, Onah's movie suffers from having too much to say without any real follow-through, and with a wildly inconsistent tone which rakes in awfully timed comedy amidst perils of catastrophic possibilities, The Cloverfield Paradox is undoubtedly a missed opportunity and hands down the worst entry of the franchise thus far. With Chris O'Dowd being the glaring error of casting, with his supposedly intellectual character undoubtedly the most cringe-worthy performance of the year so far, and elements of slapstick-laden body horror amidst dialogue which can only be described as the cinematic equivalent of a paint by numbers book, Netflix's latest big budget cornerstone is really quite poor, and even when the ideas on the surface are interesting enough to warrant some form of applause for trying, the execution is badly managed and ultimately, a sobering disappointment. 

Overall Score: 4/10