Category Archives: Now Showing

Now Showing

CRESCENT CITY

Producers: Denise Loren, Eduard Osipov, Vince Jolivette, David Lipper and Robert A. Daly Jr.   Director:  RJ Collins   Screenplay: Rich Ronat   Cast: Terrence Howard, Esai Morales, Alec Baldwin, Nicky Whelan, Michael Sirow, Weston Cage Coppola, Anjul Nigam, Reema Sampat, Eduard Osipov, Nikita Kahn and Rose Lane Sanfilippo   Distributor: Lionsgate

Grade: D

Serial killer movies have gotten more and more convoluted over the years, the natural consequence of a need to stand out in an increasingly crowded field.  But rarely has one been as absurdly complex as RJ Collins’ threadbare effort set in the eponymous (and fictitious) Arkansas town.  The ridiculousness of “Crescent City” is accentuated by its utter seriousness. 

And yet it has a cast headed by recognizable names.  Terrence Howard stars as Brian Sutter, a detective partnered with Luke Carson (Esai Morales) under Captain Howell (the ubiquitous Alec Baldwin).  The two shamuses are a disparate pair.  Sutter is earnest and deeply troubled, occasionally suffering from blackouts and visions associated with some past trauma.  Carson is hard, gruff and blasé about social and professional niceties (at one point, watching him interrogate a suspect, Howell says “He thinks he’s Dirty Harry”).  As for Howell, he’s like the superior from innumerable buddy-cop TV series of decades ago, except that Baldwin coasts through the part with as little effort as possible, except for that patented shark-like smile.  Maybe he was just trying to set aside the nonsensical twists in Rich Ronat’s script while concentrating on adding a welcome paycheck to his back account. 

Sutter and Carson seem to be getting nowhere trying to solve the puzzling series of seemingly unrelated killings plaguing the city—most recently of seemingly churchgoer Ricky Maccallum (Eduard Osipov), his body found in a compromising position with his throat slashed—that have become the preoccupation of the nightly TV news. The lack of progress induces Howell to add a third member to their team—Jaclyn Waters (Nicky Whelan), who, it will eventually be revealed, has a history with one of them.  The only real lead takes the trio to the head of Sutter’s church, Pastor Lawson (Michael Sirow), whose support groups appear to include some members, like Travis Reed (Weston Cage Coppola), who are suspicious, and others with knowledge about irregular goings-on in town.  In time Sutter learns that the church maintenance man (Anjul Nigam) has some useful information as well.    

More complications arise as Captain Howell, already under pressure as a result of the investigation that’s gone nowhere, becomes aware of Sutter’s psychological problems—the result, it appears, of his role in the death of a young drug dealer, which he and Carson have colluded to suppress.  The revelation leads to the men’s suspension.   

Much more follows—dark secrets, betrayals, frame-ups, deaths—until a final reveal so preposterous (requiring an embarrassingly over-the-top turn from one of the stars) that it’s likely to leave you shocked, though in entirely the wrong way.  A few gratuitous sex scenes are thrown into the mix to make things seem more “adult.”

And yet despite the ludicrousness of it all, Howard gives the ultra-pulpy material all he has, treating it with a seriousness it doesn’t deserve.  Morales contributes an exhibition in stern toughness, the brutally cynical alternative to Howard’s sensitive soul.  If Baldwin puts in minimal effort and Whelan contents herself with steely resolve, most of the supporting cast show barely professional ability, though their unsteadiness might have resulted from a “one take and done” mentality on the part of a budget-minded director.

Technical credits for the movie, shot around Little Rock, are adequate, with Julian Brown’s production design, Alex Salahi’s cinematography and Eric Potter’s editing competent and Josh Atchley adding a generically gloomy score that tries to add excitement to the supposed action scenes like car chases.

Even as a mere time-waster, this burg is not a place you’ll want to visit.

Now Showing

SKINCARE

Producers: Logan Lerman and Jonathan Schwartz   Director: Austin Peters   Screenplay: Sam Freilich, Austin Peters and Deering Regan  Cast: Elizabeth Banks, Lewis Pullman, Luis Gerardo Méndez, Michaela Jaé Rodriguez, Nathan Fillion, Erik Palladino, John Billingsley, Jason Manuel Olazábal and Jesse Saler   Distributor: IFC Films

Grade: C

Austin Peters’ satirical thriller about skullduggery within the California skin care community is obviously inspired by an actual case—that of Dawn DaLuise, the aesthetician-owner of a shop called Skin Refinery, who was accused of plotting the murder of rival Gabriel Suarez, owner-operator of Smooth Cheeks, and spent nearly a year in jail before being acquitted at trial. Though it doesn’t explicitly acknowledge the debt, it’s even set in 2013, about the time of the actual events.   (After her exoneration DaLuise, one might note. opened a new place called Killer Facials.)

It’s a pretty juicy tale (the case implicated Nick Prugo, who’d been a member of the notorious teen Bling Ring), but one handled with less than optimal finesse by Peters and his co-writers Sam Freilich and Deering Regan. “Skincare” tries to keep us guessing while lobbing potshots at the vanity-based industry, but does neither very well. 

Elizabeth Banks is extravagantly over-the-top as Hope Goldman, the DaLuise stand-in, whose boutique beauty shop caters to the rich and famous in Los Angeles.  She’s also about to launch her own expensive, custom-made line of cosmetics, which she’s planning to promote via an interview on a local morning talk show hosted by a stilted fellow named Brett (Nathan Fillion). 

Hope is an enthusiastic entrepreneur but not, it appears, an especially astute one from a practical perspective.  She’s behind on her rent, constantly putting off her landlord Jeff (John Billingsley), and could lose her lease on the shop’s swanky location.  And while always putting on a perky, upbeat face, she’s extremely upset when a competitor, Angel Vergara (Luis Gerardo Méndez) opens a new shop, Shimmer Skin, just across the street from hers.  Her discomfort increases when Brett bumps her taped launch interview for one featuring Vergara, who boasts that his anti-aging treatments are based on discoveries by NASA. She also has to do some fast thinking to deflect Brett when the married man promises to broadcast the interview later in return for some late-night consideration.  He’s only the first man to look on the attractive, increasingly desperate Hope as a potential conquest.

But worse is to come.  Arriving at work one morning, Hope’s informed by her secretary/bookkeeper Marine (Michaela Jaé Rodriguez) that an email’s been sent to all her clients in which she not only confesses to her financial woes but indicates that she’s having an emotional breakdown.  Then the tires on her care are slashed, and a burly ruffian (Jesse Saler) shows up at the shop in response to a message that Hope’s available to provide sexual services.  She’s certain that Angel’s behind it all, but gets no satisfaction by confronting him, or by contacting a police detective (Jason Manuel Olazábal) for help. 

So Hope starts doing some stalking of her own, especially after her home is broken into, and tries to add a gun to her defensive arsenal of mace. She also gets offers of assistance from a couple of men.  Once is Armen (Erik Palladino), the mechanic who helps with the tires and shows some interest in dating her.  The other is Jordan (Lewis Pullman), an old acquaintance who’s now a self-styled life coach; he effectively suggests becoming her personal protector.  But things continue to deteriorate, until everything unravels and the truth of the matter is revealed, not to Hope’s advantage. 

“Skincare” might have been fashioned as a statement about the difficulties female entrepreneurs face in struggling to succeed, or as a scathing commentary on the upper-end cosmetics business,. But it’s content to skirt any deeper issues in favor of an obvious portrait of a driven but rather scatterbrained young woman and a whodunit that, in the end, opts for a lazy resolution.  What might have been a sharp satire instead emerges as a disappointingly skin-deep comedy of errors with a downbeat close.

Nevertheless one has to recognize the full-throated effort Banks puts into the piece—she’s on the screen virtually non-stop, and holds it expertly even as the plot goes haywire, helped by Christopher Ripley’s cinematography, which suggests a world closing in on her as some even suspect she might have engineered everything as a publicity stunt, and Fatima Al Quadiri’s score, which morphs from the bubbly to something more discordant.  And while no one else in the cast has an opportunity to make much of an impression, despite a limited budget the picture enjoys some creamy visual panache as a result of Liz Toonkel’s production design and Angelina Vitto’s costumes.  But Laura Zemoel’s editing can’t always successfully cope with the tonal shifts.

In the end “Skincare” is a film with potential, but unfortunately fails to realize it.