You had us at Willem Dafoe. You know the roles: Raven Shaddock in the rock ‘ n’ roll noir Streets of Fire and lost rocker Johnny Harte in one of my personal favorites, Roadhouse 66. Then there’s the diabolical forger Eric “Rick” Masters in To Live and Die in L.A. and Sergeant Elias Gordon in Platoon. We can go on and on . . . yes, ye film youngins, you know him as The Green Goblin in Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man franchise.

The always amazing and never disappointing Argentinian director Hector Babenco — who you know through his multiple award-winning works with Tom Berenger and John Lithgow in At Play in the Fields of the Lord (1991), Kiss of the Spiderwoman (1985) with William Hurt, and Ironweed (1987) with Jack Nicholson and Meryl Streep — returns, sadly, with his final film: an autobiographical examination about life and death through a film director’s bout with cancer.

Willem Dafoe is Diego Fairman, a talented, but acidic, filmmaker who is as adept at social alienation as he is with film — and his decade-long bout with cancer only amplifies his curmudgeonly outlook on life. With his new wife, Livia (award-winning Brazilian actress Maria Fernada Candido), he leaves Brazil for a new round of treatments in Seattle. And the only man who can save him, via a bone marrow transplant, is his brother, Antonio, who haven’t spoken to each other in ten years. While in treatment, Diego comes to find solace in the friendship of a young Hindu boy also dealing with cancer.

The philosophical question asked in this, the final masterpiece of the then dying Babenco (he passed in July 2016), asks: Does someone, who went out of their way to make the lives of others miserable and never took responsibility for said actions, deserve a free pass because they’re dying? Or do they deserve to die alone — with their soul in agony as much as their body? Will others forgive . . . to release the sinner from their guilt?

And when Death arrives to take him, Diego asks from his death bed, for one more chance to make one more film. And he makes that film within his soul — with the help of his Hindu friend. And the fact that My Hindu Friend is the film that Death granted Hector Babenco to make — makes this film all the more powerful.

Yeah, I cried. I’m man enough to admit that.

In an overseas rollout since 2015, My Hindu Friend is finally available in the U.S on May 1 through Rock Salt Releasing on DVD, Blu-Ray and all digital streaming platforms (Amazon, AT&T, DirectTV, FANDANGO, FlixFling, Google Play, Hoopla, inDemand, iTunes, inDemand, DirecTV, Vudu, Google Play, FANDANGO, Sling/Dish, Sony, Vimeo on Demand, You Tube Movies, and Xbox).

Here’s the rest of the great films released under the Rock Salt Releasing/TriCoast Worldwide co-banner we’ve reviewed:

Agatha Christine: Spy Next Door
Blood Hunters: Rise of the Hybrids
Bombshells and Dollies
Case 347
Dollhouse
It All Begins with a Song
Lone Star Deception
Nona
Revival
The Soul Collector
Tombstone Rashomon

Disclaimer: We were provided a screener by the film’s P.R firm. That has no bearing on our review. Besides, with Dafoe, and the fact that it’s Babenco’s final film, we would have bought our own copy.

About the Author: You can learn more about the writings of R.D Francis on Facebook. He also writes for B&S About Movies and publishes on Medium.

Documentaries are always a hit and miss that depends on the subject matter’s appeal to the viewer. For example, last night I watched The Kids Stays in the Picture — a second time. Why? Because I’m a film dork and the life of film producer Robert Evans (Love Story, The Godfather, Popeye) fascinates me (I read the book several times, as well). I also recently watched and reviewed It All Begins with a Song. Now, unless your a songwriter and enamored with all things Nashville, that “talking head” documentary is most likely a hard pass.

So, with title and theatrical one-sheet in hand, you pretty much know the subject matter with this documentary, which is all about the girls in the wake of bondage model Betty Page and Burlesque artist Gypsy Rose Lee. If you dig the style of Danielle Colby-Cushman from The History Channel’s American Pickers and Kat Von D from TLC’s L.A. Ink, this is your movie (they’re not in the movie). If you’re facinated by Maxim pin-up model and Marilyn Manson’s ex-wife Dita Von Tesse (who is in the movie ), then this feature-length chronicle on today’s Pinup Girls — as they compete in The Miss Viva Las Vegas Pinup Contest held at the Viva Las Vegas Rockabilly Weekend festival — is your movie. In fact, if you’re into classic ’50s cars and retro 1940’s fashions, the art of tattooing, rockabilly tunes, and all things Las Vegas, then this is your movie.

Ah, but this isn’t about the objectification of women. This is about the celebration of a woman’s power. Bombshells and Dollies is noted music video director Daniel Halperin’s (Styx Dennis DeYoung’s “Desert Moon“; back in the days when videos were expertly crafted as short films that told an actual story) homage that celebrates a woman’s right to accept their bodies, to be self-confident, and to be gorgeous. Even if this is a world you’re not interested in and a world you’re unfamilar with, Halperin’s flick in an affable introduction.

Bombshells and Dollies is available on May 1 through Rock Salt Releasing on DVD, Blu-Ray and all digital streaming platforms (Amazon, AT&T, DirectTV, FANDANGO, FlixFling, Google Play, Hoopla, inDemand, iTunes, inDemand, DirecTV, Vudu, Google Play, FANDANGO, Sling/Dish, Sony, Vimeo on Demand, You Tube Movies, and Xbox).

Here’s the rest of the great films released under the Rock Salt Releasing/TriCoast Worldwide co-banner we’ve reviewed:

Agatha Christine: Spy Next Door
Blood Hunters: Rise of the Hybrids
Case 347
Dollhouse
It All Begins with a Song
Lone Star Deception
My Hindu Friend
Nona
Revival
The Soul Collector
Tombstone Rashomon

Disclaimer: We were provided a screener by the film’s P.R firm. That has no bearing on our review.

About the Author: You can learn more about the writings of R.D Francis on Facebook. He also writes for B&S About Movies and publishes on Medium.

This feature film debut by writer-director Peter Andrew Lee is an intimate love story from the streets of New York with the same heart and soul that we experience with Spike Lee’s and Matty Rich’s respective feature film debuts of She’s Gotta Have It (1986) and Straight Out of Brooklyn (1991). Think of Angelfish as a grittier version of the love-on-the-wrong-side-of-the-tracks tales of John Hughes with Pretty in Pink (1986) and Some Kind of Wonderful (1987), as made by Spike or Rich, and you’re in the 1993 Bronx neighborhood where Angelfish takes place.

Eva is a Puerto Rican girl from a proud, hardworking family who aspires to study acting, but is pressured by her family to take up accounting so the family can better provide for her special needs brother. Brendan is white and from a broken home where he’s the breadwinner who takes care of his alcoholic, racist mother and his always-in-trouble teen brother.

They meet when Eva enters the Bronx deli where Brendan works and he saves her from overly amorous suitor. A romance soon blossoms against the insecurities of racism and jealousy of others, along with the pressures of family loyalty and responsibilities. This is a kind, gentle film that weaves an authentic tale of frowned upon interracial and interclass love that, sadly, still exists in society.

The leads of Jimi Stanton (from the Netflix web series The Punisher) and American rap artist Princess Nokia (in her acting debut) both shine in their mutual debuts as lead actors. Great things are on the way for both of them.

Angelfish debuts this month as a free-with-ads VOD on TubiTv and is now playing as a PPV at Amazon Prime, Google Play, and Vudu. You can learn more about the film at Screen Thirteen Pictures.

Disclaimer: This movie was sent to us by its PR company.

About the Author: You can learn more about the writings of R.D Francis on Facebook. He also writes for B&S About Movies.

In this emotionally rewarding, scruffy London-based crime drama, ex-mob thug Tony Ward (the excellent Anthony Mark Streeter) finds himself a free man after a decade-long prison stretch. He soon discovers the incarceration the outside world offers is as difficult as the inside kind when his well-intentioned efforts to reconnect with his estranged wife and now adult son unravels as the temptations of his criminal past catches up with him.

The opening of the film is smartly nuanced—and quite stunning. It opens on black with the sound effect of a roller-slamming gate. Then we see Tony standing outside of a prison. He looks around. You can hear him say, “Now what the fuck do I do?”—without saying it. Meanwhile, his wife and son clean their home and prepare for his arrival. And that’s how the first nine minutes unrolls—without dialog: dialog that’s not needed. And it’s beautiful because this is a film that realizes images and body language speak louder than physical words.

Now, at first mention of a “British crime drama,” your mind calls up Guy Ritchie’s Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels (1998), Layer Cake (2004), and In Bruges (2008). And if you’re looking for the violence of those films, you’ll be disappointed. Writer-director Anthony Z. James knows we’ve been down this road before and we know hard-ass guys like Tony. This isn’t about the crime caper that put Tony in prison or the crime that’ll put him back in there. It’s not about revenge. Even at their most violent, criminals have families. They experience love. And self-loathing when they disappoint the ones they love. That’s this movie. This is a movie that goes behind the violence.

If the pioneering, independent spirit of John Cassavetes was still with us (he’d be 91 this year), and still spry enough to shoot films, he would have utilized smartphone technology and made Ghost. (Why not: Asian action-stars Leo Fong and Chun-Ku Lu are still making films at the incredible, respective ages of age of 91 and 74.) So keep that in mind, as I know the modestly budgeted tales by Cassavetes that focus on characters and story, shot with handheld cameras, available lighting and spontaneous improvisation isn’t easily digested by a mass audience. (And it’s interesting to point out: Unlike James, Cassavetes was unable to find an American distributor for his debut film, 1960’s Shadows.)

I have to admit that, at first, the concept of making movies via smartphones didn’t sound too promising. I’ve worked on my share of shorts as an actor where my directors couldn’t even handle professional cameras and editing suites with aplomb (or finish their masterpieces 50 percent of the time), so the use of phones and MacBooks to make movies sounded like amateur hour.

Then James Cullen Bressack proved us all wrong with 2013’s To Jennifer: the first commercially released film shot and edited entirely on an iPhone 5. Then Steven Soderbergh (Erin Brockovich, Ocean’s Eleven, Magic Mike) upped the game with his smartphone-shot feature, 2018’s Unsane.

Since then, Apple has gone through three upgrades and now we have this impressive feature film debut by British filmmaker Anthony Z. James shot on a pair of iPhone 8s and edited on a MacBook Pro equipped with a freeware version of DaVinci Resolve editing software. And if you didn’t tell me Ghost was shot smartphone DIY guerilla-style, I would have thought it was shot “more professionally” via permits, a Canon EOS C200, and Final Cut Pro.

Which just goes to show you: It’s not the technology. It’s not the “cost” of the filmmaking tool. It’s the person behind the technology that creates great film.

And I am glad that Anthony Z. James is the man behind the technology. If he accomplishes this with a minimal crew and budget on smartphones, then what can he do with an $80,000 Red Digital and a seven-figure budget?

Amazing things.

And Ghost is only his beginning.

After a limited theatrical release in the UK this April, Ghost is now available in the U.S on Amazon Prime and Vimeo-On-Demand. You can find more info on the film at ghost-movie.com.

About the Author: You can read the music and film reviews of R.D Francis on Medium and learn more about his work on Facebook. He also writes for B&S About Movies.

Disclaimer: This movie was sent to us by its PR company. As always: you know that has no bearing on our review of the film.

“Please don’t make this another metaphor for your body.“
“If the clothes fit. . . .”
— Mads and Junior

What do you get when you take a 65-page screenplay written over a weekend that’s tossed into a car (okay, two cars) with four people traveling 4500 miles for 14 days from Los Angeles to Las Vegas to South Dakota to Portland?

You get the instantly engaging industry calling card The In-Between, an indie road movie that, we hope, will do for the multitalented Mindy Bledsoe what She’s Gotta Have It, Clerks, and Flywheel did for Spike Lee, Kevin Smith, and Alex Kendrick.

Now, before you’re turned off by the “road movie” aspect of The In-Between, take note: this isn’t a Melissa McCarthy or Tim Allen slapstick comedy rife with oddball characters. And if you’re in the market for a Todd Phillips road comedy, keep on truckin’—and zip right on by the Judd Apatow comedy exit.

A film, at its core, should entertain. And the films by those A-List La-La Landers, in their own way, certainly do. And The In-Between definitely does. However, at its best, a film should give the viewer a new perspective on the lives of others. And most films—a lot of films—don’t. Why? Because they’re product made to fill seats; they’re not personal. The In-Between is that personal film. It’s the one that shakes the viewer out their little I-Me-Mine world. For Bledsoe’s film possesses a depth and warmth that Jennifer Aniston’s corporate chronic pain romp, 2014’s Cake, lacked. Aniston researched and acted (for Oscar gold). Bledsoe, as well as her co-writer and co-star, Jennifer Stone, live it—everyday.

While The In-Between is a brave journey into the world of everyday people dealing with their “invisible chronic illness”—the illness, takes a back seat courtesy of an intelligent screenplay (filled with natural, realistic dialog). Most of us never think twice of eating a pizza; a person with Type 1 diabetes, does (which afflicts actress Jennifer Stone). Washing our hands is a pain-free experience; not for a person with Complex Regional Pain Syndrome Type 2 (which afflicts Mindy Bledsoe). The monitors. The needles. The compression sleeves. The pills. The schedules. It’s those we-take-for-granted moments that provide an insight to the lives of Mads (Jennifer Stone, of Disney Channel’s The Wizards of Waverly Place) and Junior (writer, director, producer Mindy Bledsoe) that serve to elevate the script to its true purpose: not as an Oscar violin about dealing with illness, but as an examination on the importance of friendship, and the spiritual and emotional voids a bond of trust between friends, fills.

In addition to its exquisite cinematography, screenwriting, and acting, there’s the soundtrack. In so many films, a soundtrack’s creation is solely for the purposes of mood; most times, the soundtrack is nothing more than a record company’s product placement. In the case of The In-Between, the music serves as a third character that drives the plot and develops the other characters. We come to learn the reason for the cross-country trip is to visit the place where Junior’s musician-sister, Veronica, was killed in a car-crash and caused Junior’s chronic pain. Veronica’s “voice” is beautifully portrayed by the music of the common-bands Super Water Symphony/Hydrogen Child, which plays via car-based CDs and vinyl albums on a portable, battery-powered record player.

Everything about this movies works. And the festival crowds agree. The In-Between recently came off a successful film festival run, where it won multiple awards at the Austin Revolution, Toronto Female Eye, Twister Alley International, and Women Texas film festivals. It’s currently in the market for distribution and we hope it finds a deserving home in the PPV and VOD universe, soon. You can keep up to date with film’s success at its official Facebook page.

You can also visit Louisiana’s Hydrogen Child on Facebook and Twitter, and listen to their music on You Tube.

About the Author: You can read the music and film reviews of R.D Francis on Medium and learn more about his work on Facebook. He also writes for B&S About Movies.

Disclaimer: We discovered this movie via social media, were intrigued by the trailer, and reached out to the filmmakers to provide us with a screener copy.

“Algorithm and reality may not end up coinciding.”
— Eva

The App is a relevant-for-the-times techno-noir about loneliness and alienation brought on by one’s addiction to social media. It’s a tale about not trusting another’s digital identity; a philosophical exploration that makes us aware that, regardless of how much one achieves in life, they’ll always be riddled with self-loathing, never finding true happiness in their moments; for man is a creature always pining for something more, something different.

And that “more” comes in the form of the mysterious Maria, a digital femme fatale who takes over young Nick’s life.

Nick Melfi (Vincenzo Crea) is “Italy’s most famous heir” and an up-and-coming Hollywood actor (think actor-oil scion Armie Hammer or actress-sport scion Kate Mara) who defies his father’s wishes to be part of the family’s industrial empire alongside his brother and sister. His father even goes as far as to send the company’s attorney to Rome whilst Nick prepares for his first leading man role.

To fill his loneliness while away on location, and to help his girlfriend, Eva (Jessica Cressy), with her college thesis, Nick agrees to help her test a new dating app. “US, is the future of self,” she tells Nick. “It’s for people already in relationships, but curious.” And they each sign up under the aliases of “Lorenzo” and “Sara.” And you know what they say about “adventure. . . .”

Keep in mind that Nick is portraying Jesus Christ in an Italian production The Life of Jesus (directed by the acting-cameo Abel Ferrara as Paolo; yes, he of the U.K. Section 1 video nasty Driller Killer), and that Eva is Nick’s “Eve,” the phone app is the “apple,” Maria is the “serpent,” and Ofelia, the attractive, Catholic-practicing hotel concierge (Greta Scarano), is “Mary Magdalene.” And that, as Eva reminds Nick, “. . . a lot of actors have gone a little mad playing Jesus.” So Nick has ventured into the isolated, digital wilderness of the New Testament’s parable of the “Temptation of Christ.”

Will Nick experience a reboot-resurrection and be upgraded-reborn in spirit?

As the unconventional narrative of The App streamed (ironically) on my laptop, I was reminded of Italian filmmaker Michelangelo Antonioni’s L’Avventura (1960), La Notte (1961), and L’Eclisse (1962), his trilogy-statement regarding the alienation of man in the modern world; each dealt with the failure of the self and their relationships—his first color film, Il deserto rosso (1964), in particular. As with that film’s Giuliana, writer-director Elisa Fuksas’s Nick desires to end his spiritual conflicts (with his father), and while Giuliana resists her “lover” Corrado’s advances, Nick also resists, then accepts, Maria’s advances. And while Fuksas’s Maria is a cloud-based entity, Nick still makes “love” to her. For, as Antonioni said in the past, “When sexuality fails as a means of communication and provides only physical relief, then Eros is sick.”

And Antonioni was right.

Why do we, as humans, eschew physical contact for technical contact? Why will we stare for hours on end into plasma, but not into the eyes and hearts of the other? Why does one gratify the self by the “idea” of another self—a fantasy? It was Antonioni’s belief that man’s technological development did not cause his alienation, but his failure to adapt to his changing environs caused his neuroses. And here we are today, with man’s current state of illness: an illness caused by our multi-media environs. The new and most dangerous “pandemic” we face isn’t an organic disease, but an inorganic sickness. And the inorganic sickness exacerbates our (current) organic pandemic through rumor and falsehoods. For Antonioni was right: “. . . it is the men who don’t function properly—not the machines.”

Considering writer-director Elisa Fuksas’s father, Massimiliano, is an award-winning Italian architect who oversees the Euro-renown Studio Fuksas with his wife, it seems there’s a biographical element in Elisa’s work: she eschewed the family business for filmmaking. And while Antonioni’s incorporation of modern landscapes in his works shines in Fuksas’s, there’s no doubt her work serves as homage to her father and mother’s architectural influences. Her visually pleasing, mood-driven plotting in The App can be best described as a 21^st century meeting of the Baroque/Rococo-infused fantasies of Federico Fellini, the sweeping color palates of Dario Argento, and the neo-noir storytelling of Abel Ferrera (look over Ferrera’s ever-evolving resume; he’s come a long way since Ms. 45).

Elisa Fuksas made her feature film debut in 2013 with the multiple-nominated and award-winning drama, Nina. Based on The App, it’s a film that I’ll seek out as I look forward to her future works. You can watch The App on Netflix in Italian with English subtitles or dubbed into English (the dub is well done).

Disclaimer: We didn’t receive a screener copy of The App from the film’s PA firm or distributor. We discovered this movie all on our own and genuinely loved the film.

About the Author: You can read the music and film reviews of R.D Francis on Medium and learn more about his work on Facebook. He also writes for B&S About Movies.

“It’s time for your upgrade. It’s not gonna hurt.”
—the Man in Black

Frank, a burnt out architect, quits his job to become a filmmaker and create a star-making role for Sara, his actress-girlfriend. Of course, she leaves him. Or did she? He did fantasize he killed his boss, after all.

Frank’s subsequent web searchers to prepare for his film (e.g., Egyptian hieroglyphs, atomic testing, surveillance) place him on the radar of a dark government project in need of a test subject for their new device—a device that results in his inner demons to physically manifest. Or have they? Is he being followed? Is the mysterious woman he met through a dating app part of the conspiracy? Is she even real? Why can Frank perceive the primary colors of red and green, but not blue?

Ambiguity and interpretation is afoot in this indie writing and directing debut by Fernando Castro Sanguino, which reminds of the low budget sci-fi introductions to the works of Darren Aronofsky with Pi and Shane Carruth with Primer, as well as the late Anthony Anderson’s VHS-obscure, Interface (1984).

Astute film lovers will notice Sanguino’s homages to Bernardo Bertolucci’s Last Tango in Paris and Martin Scorsese’s Taxi Driver in the disillusioned, downward spiral of his trouble architect-cum-filmmaker, along with the ugly-truth revelations of the Coen Brother’s Barton Fink. To classify Double Riddle as a sci-fi version of the Christian Bale-starring The Machinist isn’t far off the mark, either. Personally, I’d go as far as to say Sanguino has crafted a low-budget version of David Cronenberg’s Videodrome—using the internet instead of cable television.

This hour-long experimental film is a debut that fires on all the cylinder-disciplines of writing, directing, cinematography, and acting—and worth the psychological trip. Yeah, this rates alongside and inspires me to re-watch Elisa Fuksas’s really fine The App (2020), as well as Jason Lester’s High Resolution (2019).

After a successful film festival run, Fernando Castro Sanguino released Double Riddle as a free-with-limited-ads stream on Tubi via Indie Rights Movies.

Disclaimer: We didn’t receive a screener copy of Double Riddle from the film’s PA firm or distributor. We discovered this movie all on our own and genuinely enjoyed the film.

About the Author: You can read the music and film reviews of R.D Francis on Medium and learn more about his work on Facebook. He also writes for B&S About Movies.

While not wholly original, this micro-budgeted, meta pseudo-sequel ended up being an entertaining work that led me to reminisce of the VHS home video days of Charles Band’s Full Moon universe when he’d converge the timelines of his oeuvre (e.g, Dollman from Dollman shows up Dollman vs. Demonic Toys, Dollgirl from Bad Channels shows up in Dollman, etc.).

Look out. I really enjoyed this movie. And in my glee I’m gonna plot-spoil it!

In addition to Mr. Band, this second indie film from writer-director John R. Walker (who debuted with 2015’s fun-to-watch The Amityville Playhouse) also harkens Don Coscarelli’s Phantasm. Now don’t get worked up. I’m not saying Ouijageist is as good as Phantasm: I speak of Walker eschewing the awful CGI effects of today’s low budget horror films for budgetary-but-effective practical (in camera) effects and homage touches. (And Ouijageist’s sometimes too loud to-the-point-of-distraction synth-piano track is no Fred Myrow or Pino Donaggio masterpiece by any means. But Argento always cranked the music on his films, so maybe it’s a Goblin homage?)

And if that celluloid reminiscing doesn’t hook you, perhaps the meta aspect will: John R. Walker returns as “Peter Sommers,” who also appeared in Ghoul (2020), Meathook Massacre 4 (2018), and Amityville: Evil Never Dies (2015) alongside Lesley Scoble, aka Karen Harper, from Walker’s The Amityville Playhouse (2015). And if the meta aspects of the film don’t entice you to hit the big red streaming button, perhaps ye curiosity seekers of classic sci-fi and horror will recognize the name of Lesley Scoble as one of the creepy village children in 1960’s Village of the Damned.

Now, if you haven’t “geist,” this is a tale of an errant witchboard, aka Ouija board, and the malicious spirits it conjures from the beyond via the stupidity of the curious (that’s not an insult to Walker’s writing; all characters in horror films are too curious and dumb for their own good, natch). Like Eddie Murphy pointed out: Why don’t white people just get the fuck out of the house? And why didn’t Tom Selleck burn the painting in Daughters of Satan? Why do Paul Naschy’s warriors of evil in Horror Rises from the Tomb wait until the third act to pull out the ancient amulet? So let’s cut young India a break, okay?

Single mum India (Lois Wilkenson, affable in her acting debut) and her baby daughter Emily have moved out of their cramped apartment into a rental home owned by a friend of her mom Karen (Lesley Scoble). And during the course of moving in, her mischievous dog digs up the ubiquitous box in the backyard (now where have I seen that before?).

Oh, before I forget: Did you know that the board was responsible for a Swiss banker killing six people . . . then disappearing? Well, that’s what you get for not paying attention to the expositional news report. Eh, that’s okay. Neither did India’s friend Becca who, regardless of the word “Witchboard” wood burned into the box’s lid, decides it would be fun to play with the board inside.

Well, that didn’t take long. . . .

Becca’s pushed down the stairs, Emily’s blocks are spelling words, Mungo the dog (Pixie) is seeing things others don’t, Emily’s boiling in the bathtub, Mungo’s been decapitated, a garden hose takes on a serpent-like quality and kills a handyman, a Phantasm-styled creature jumps out of the sink drain, and Emily’s ex Paul does a Bruce Campbell with some pentagram body boils and scares the tea bags off of some coffee house patrons. Yep, the poltershites hittin’ the fan. Nope, Emily’s isn’t swallowed by the TV. But still . . . we better call Rod Steiger. Uh, we can’t. He’s dead. Eh, Father West and Bishop Chapman will have to do. Shite, that didn’t work. Here comes The Evil Dead siege. Does anyone pull a Linda Blair spiderwalk? Nope. (That’s too expensive a homage for the budget.) Does that six-armed Kâli from the cover show up? Nope. (But since when does anything from a horror box’s cover art actually appear in the film? Case in point: there’s no ponytailed, plaid skirted schoolgirl—complete with ax and skull mask—in the frames of One Night in October, either.) Is India accused of three murders? Does she vanish like the Swiss banker? Does her landlord play his cards close to the chest? Check, check, and check (just like a Paul Naschy movie).

Writer-director John R. Walker started out as a background and day player in the late ‘90s on several top-rated British programmes (Hollyoaks, Coronation Street, Emmerdale, Doctor Who) and made what we here at B&S About Movies think is a pretty decent writing and directing debut with one of the better Amityville mocksequels, with the aforementioned The Amityville Playhouse.

While Ouijageist certainly doesn’t live up to its press release claim as a “frightening new supernatural spooker in the tradition of The Conjuring,” it presents genre homages that an Argento and Coscarelli fan like myself appreciates. Walker does a commendable job with his slight budgets and unknown actors, so it will be interesting to see what he comes up with on his currently in-development/productions Blood Bride and the Demons from Hell (great exploitive title), The Great British Massacre, and the oh-so-Italian retro zombie romp, Hell of the Screaming Dead (it’s all about the poster!).

Ouijageist made its U.S debut on DVD and VOD on April 14 via Wide Eye Releasing. You can stream it on Amazon Prime and learn more about the film at its official Facebook page.

About the Author: You can read the music and film reviews of R.D Francis on Medium and learn more about his work on Facebook. He also writes for B&S About Movies.

Disclaimer: This movie was sent to us by its PR department. As always: you know that has nothing to do with our feelings on the movie.

Nothing beats going down a Tubi rabbit hole and discovering a new movie—especially when it’s a slapstick comedy of the roadtrip kind directed by Camilo Vila of the 1988 horror flick The Unholy (starring Ben Cross and Hal Holbrook) and stars an ’80s child sitcom star.

And you know what? It ended up being just as good as any Tim Allen or Melissa McCarthy slapstick road movie with quirky characters (Wild Hogs and Tammy).

Now I know you’re not expecting much from a slapstick road movie starring Jaleel White. And that’s a shame. I’ve seen the adult White in dramatic roles in reruns of TV’s Castle, CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, and Hawaii Five-O and he’s more than proven he’s brilliantly beat the child actor curse. And say what you will about ’80s TV comedies of the ABC kind, but what Jaleel White did with his star-making role in Family Matters was nothing short of astounding.

White is Orlando Leal, a French literature professor excited to spend the 4th of July weekend with his new girlfriend flying in from Washington, D.C. But before he can make that airport pickup, he has to fulfill his father’s dying wish: spread his ashes across Mosquito Lakes in California’s Sequoia National Park where they spent their previous father-son holidays. And the self-centered Orlando, who always hated the trips, curses his father while dumping the ashes. So his father decides to teach his son a lesson—and curses him from the beyond.

First, Orlando’s robbed of his backpack containing his wallet and keys by a pair of ex-cellmate thieves, Dakota and Cowboy. While trying to get back to San Jose, he’s drugged by a busload of neo-hippies. Then he’s tazed and pepper sprayed by a racist country girl. That leads to his hitching a ride with Mexican mirgrant workers and his having to steal the farm boss’s motorcycle. Then, when Orlando finally makes it home, he discovers his home is cleaned out. And there’s the bumpkin park rangers, the Barney Fife-cops, and clueless credit card company representatives adding merriment to his travels.

Will Orlando reverse his father’s curse in time to pick up the love of his life at the airport, or will he lose her forever?

Lead actors are only as good as their co-stars and Gary Anthony Williams (best remembered by Malcolm in the Middle fans for his role as Abraham “Abe” Kenarban; he got his start with a support role in Radioland Murders, but Star Wars fans know his work in that franchise’s animated universe) and the late Brent Briscoe (“JJ” from NBC-TV’s Parks and Recreation) excel in their roles as the theives Cowboy and Dakota. And no matter how small the role, it’s hard to pass up a movie starring the welcomed face of ‘80s TV actor Sy Richardson from Rudy Ray Moore’s Petey Wheatstraw (along with Bad Dreams, Repo Man, Shattered Illusions, and Sid and Nancy; the list goes on and on) as Orlando’s pop.

This film is worthy of a watch. You’ll enjoy it.

After a succesfull run on the U.S comedy film festival circuit—including a win at the 2019 International Black Film Festival—5^th of July makes its debut as a free with-limited-ads stream on TubiTv. You can learn more about film at Four Fish Films.

Disclaimer: We didn’t receive a screener copy of 5^th of July from the film’s PA firm or distributor. We discovered this movie all on our own and genuinely enjoyed the film.

About the Author: You can read the music and film reviews of R.D Francis on Medium and learn more about his work on Facebook. He also writes for B&S About Movies.