Room (2015)

I dug Emma Donoghue’s smash-hit book “Room,” The film, with a screenplay by Donoghue herself, is actually -– get this -– even better. Jack (Jacob Tremblay) is newly 5 and desperately curious about life, but his world is the interior of a backyard shed. He is a prisoner, as is his mother (Brie Larson), held by a man known as “Old Nick.” Ma was taken 7 years before off the street, and has since lived in solitude, her only companion a child by rape. Ma adores Jack, her salvation. But Ma’s soothing lies are unraveling, as is her sanity as Jack grows and Room seems to shrink. “Room” is horrifying in its depiction of the hovel, the effect of rape, malnutrition, isolation, and claustrophobia, before it really turns the screws after. Larson and Tremblay do a masterful job of telegraphing every pain and small joy, and its Donoghue’s dialogue that sells it. Sparse. Sharp. Smart. Even more so than the book, Donoghue and director Lenny Abrahamson know trauma stays with us, it cannot be fully shaken, it destroys families, splits parents. Easy answers? None. Larson and Tremblay deserve every accolade coming. Donoghue, too. A

The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn Part 2 (2012)

Yes, I watched. Yes, I hate myself for watching.

Let me beam brief pride before I serve raging scorn: “The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn Part II” finally gives us something we have not seen yet seen in this supernatural romance franchise about a young woman torn between moody, control-freak vampire boyfriend (now husband) and moody, control-freak BFF werewolf: Bella (Kristen Stewart) at last forms a personality of her own and the initiative to take action on her own. Finally.

Disclaimer: Bella is dead. She is now a full vampire. So, never mind pride. Lady has a backbone, no pulse. She’s still at home, still controlled. She has to die to get freedom. 

Misogynist.

This last chapter of a two-part flick follows Bella and that vampire soul mate Edward (Robert Pattinson) as they protect their infant child Renesmee from evil vampire overlords who want the young girl dead, lest she turn monstrous. Renesemee is half-human, though, so not a danger, but not quite normal. Her age is a speed train, going to toddler in mere days, and grade schooler within months. She can fly. Read minds. (I guess she can join the “X-Men” movies?) 

Protecting the child from ritual murder is of such importance that Jacob’s werewolf family is willing to put aside its long regional war with Edward’s family and fight alongside them. 

Why? Love! 

But an intermission: See, this flick is still based on Morman conservative Stephanie Meyer’s novels, a woman whose overall view on females have vexed me for years. She writes submissive women, the kind who like to take abuse, and appreciate it, thrive off it. Men control. Women obey. No shades of gray. Meyer must hate being a woman.

In an earlier film, Edward visited Bella on the eve of their wedding, I guess to make sure she behaves, or because he loves her that much … who knows? Jacob once told Bell, “If I can’t have you, no one will.” Bella smiled. Romance, huh? Anti-woman. Meyer’s world.

(Myers’ “The Host” is worse, with a female hero who falls deeper in love with her man after he punches her in the face. Another beau prefers strangulation. Get the theme?) 

I bristled and stewed in those previous movies, but not to the point of turning off the film and walking away in disgust. I did here. I saw it coming, too. 

The scene: Twenty-something wolfman Jacob (Taylor Lautner) stands by Edward near movie’s end and -– referring to the 9-ish Renesmee, a child –- says, “Shall I start calling you dad?” The scene’s a joke. Get it? No? See the 20-year-old Jacob is in love with the little girl and wants to marry her. He wants her body. He thinks about it. Really.

It’s not his fault. It just happened! She imprinted on him, whatever the fuck that means. Actually it means the little girl came onto him, the No. 1 defense of every sick-ass child molester out there. Look it up. I covered crime and this shit as a reporter, and heard it in court. There is no mystery here. Meyer is into child sex and likely was abused. Often.

(My response to any defense that Jacob-Renesemee’s love is platonic/chivalric now and only will grow later into sensual love: No. Director Bill Condon calling the love brotherly-sisterly … does not help. Liar. Even Lautner apparently hated the material, so he says.) 

Sure Bella gets rightly angry when she first hears of this hook up, she goes after Jacob, but, hey, she’s eventually submissive again, them men tell her heel and she does, and this is Myers, and by the climax, Bella is ready to send off child daughter to live with the man of her destiny, her protector, in secret. A true Meyer woman. 

Hell with this. Hell with it. I hate this film. And every message of submission. Child sexual abuse. Prepping girl brides for marriage to older men. None of this is an accident.

As I write, I fume again, I’ll quit. So, yes, the clean camera work by cinematographer Guillermo Navarro stuns, the best work of the franchise, and near any film in 2012. I also had a riotous laugh fest with a long battle royale near the film’s end which is neither a battle, nor a royale, as good guys and bad guys literally rip off each other’s heads in some not-semi-serious fashion that recalls Monty Python at its daftest. It’s really awful. 

Fitting. Heads should roll for this ugly, offensive series of films. This is vile shit, upping child molesters, making controlling abusive men romantic. I cannot believe I watched. The most dmaging to women and children Hollywood franchise ever made, and every film a hit. Maybe it America goes all right-wing, Bible-thumper, it will be more popular. F

The Way, Way Back (2013)

I got into “The Way, Way Back” fast. The title refers to those nerdy 1980s station wagons with the reverse seat in the far back that faced traffic, exile from all family interaction as you wondered if the truck in “front” of you crashed into the rear, would you survive? Not likely. Yes, I have mental issues. So does Duncan (Liam James), a 14-year-old stuck on a beach trip with his mother (Toni Collette) and her boyfriend (Steve Carell, against type and damn good), who riddles the boy with abuse. “You’re a three,” this dick chides the boy. Seat position is Duncan’s least worry. Seeking escape from boredom and his mother’s daftness, Duncan peddles a girl’s bike (too easy a joke) around the lazy town and finds himself at a cheapo water park run by a beach bum (Sam Rockwell, air quoting Bill Murray) who reaches out with friendship and a job. Duncan gets to drive. Directors/writers Jim Rash and Nat Faxon (“Descendants”) have crafted a great -– if overly familiar -- film about a kid who wants nothing more than to jump out that back window and run. I was him long ago. A-

The Host (2013)

Leave it to “Twilight” writer Stephanie Meyer to create an aliens-take-over-the-world drama involving a vapid teen girl torn between two boys who –- I kid you not -– at different points choke and punch her. That’s “The Host.” Much like the creepy romance of “Twilight.” The story: All of humanity has been body-snatched by glowing alien crawfish that plunder one’s consciousness, rendering people thoughtless puppets. Melanie (Saoirse Ronan) -– our “heroine” -- is thus soul-sucked, but her urge to rejoin kin/fellow resistance fighters is so strong, she rebels inside her own head. This leads to Ronan endlessly and out loud debating her own voice-over, resulting in our alternating cringing and laughing. The girl(s) finds her tribe-like people, including two interchangeable guys who -– as I said -– thump her. Why? Melanie is now untrustworthy. The Meyer trick: Human Melanie and Crawfish Melanie are each in love with one of the guys. Neither ever considers, “Wow, these assholes hit women. I’m out.” Meyer. Director Andrew Niccol has done better future sci-fi with “Gattaca,” and Ronan rocked in “Atonement” and “Hanna.” Her irises glowing like “Tron” discs and reciting drivel, she evaporates here. The “months later” epilogue feels all too true. D-

Chronicle (2012)

Faux found-footage films are dead dull thanks to the “Paranormal Activity” quadrilogy. The low-budget “Chronicle” seeks to break the rut, and for the most-part, excels smashingly. Much is smashed in this 90-minute thriller after three high school boys stumble upon a cavern and quite foolishly (as teen boys are prone to do) touch a glowing, pulsing … something. Meteor? We don’t know, but the object gives the trio telekinetic powers. In sci-fi lore, newly powered teens must fight crime. Not here. They turn merry pranksters and play football 13,000 feet up. Then one of three -- bullied, beaten, and angry Andrew (Dane DeHaan of “Lawless”) -- goes mad and his rampage in downtown Seattle is so thrillingly of-the-moment TV news “real,” the sight is horrifying and exhilarating, thanks to director Josh Trank. But the teenage oh-so-exact shot “footage” and the constant meta-raised-eyebrows from the other characters halts the momentum, and I think, get on with the story. Stop the gimmick. That said, Track’s thriller near blows the superhero genre out of the water with a fraction of an “Amazing Spider-Man” budget. B+

Tideland (2006)

Even before the depraved fantasy drama “Tideland” begins, director/co-writer/ex-Python Terry Gilliam appears on screen to warn his audience: “This is a rough film. It deals with a child in terrible situations. You probably will hate it.” How prophetic. Here, a young girl is shoved through a ringer so demoralizing it makes the “Saw” films seem quaint. I stopped the movie four times, only willing to continue for hope of a silver lining. In a theater I would have walked out. And I dig dark films of all stripes. But not this+

The film begins with 9-year-old Jeliza-Rose (Jodelle Ferland) cooking heroin fixes in the kitchen for her junkie parents, a tepid rock star (Jeff Bridges) and a shrieking Courtney Love freak (Jennifer Tilly). Mom dies. Father and daughter flee for the farm house where he was raised. Then dad ODs, and rots in a chair. Jeliza-Rose idles her lonely time playing with four severed dolls heads that talk to her. Are the voices her imagination, or the beginning of schizophrenia? We never know.

Our girl is not alone for long. A second abusive, shrieking woman (Janet McTeer) appears, dressed all in black. She dumps more misery on Jeliza-Rose, who is so desperate for attention and oblivious of abuse that she laps it up. Had enough? Gilliam is not through yet. (The movie is based on a novel of the same name.)

McTeer’s Wicked Witch embalms the father for Jeliza-Rose to cuddle with, and the woman has a mentally disabled adult brother (Brendan Fletcher) who takes a liking to Jeliza-Rose. The girl, age 9, laps up this attention, too. Yes, Gilliam goes there. Our young girl and her adult buddy become “kissy buddies.” When he straddles her in bed, and they play tongue flicks --- that was the third time I stopped the film. The fourth time: McTeer physically attacks the girl. If you add in Ferland’s elementary Miss Scahlett accent, I had a fifth reason to quit watching.

Gilliam is a twisted master of the outlandish macabre, be they brilliant (“Brazil”) or failed (“The Brothers Grimm),” but here, he’s just a twisted fuck. He thinks he’s entertaining us with deep childhood angst, oddball special effects, swooshing cameras and his over-acting cast. Gilliam insists his film is brave and artistic because it’s “from a child’s innocent perspective.” Bullshit. He’s an adult, and he should know better. “Tideland” wallows in child-endangering filth, and serves up talking squirrels as a joke. F