A demon holing up in a basement preys on a single mom and her three kids; and a San Francisco filmmaker delivers a sublime meditation on grief and grieving.
Those two films — “The Deliverance” and “The Secret Art of Human Flight — are worth watching during one of the most unreliable times on the movie calendar, Labor Day weekend.
Here’s our roundup.
Demonic possession movies don’t gain respect since most of ‘em can’t compare to William Friedkin’s 1973 pea-soup-spewing classic “The Exorcist.” The lackluster track record of exorcism movies doesn’t faze Lee Daniels (“Precious”), who takes a gritty “based-on-a-true-story” (an Indiana case doubted by many) and then scares the Beelzebub right out of you, and even makes you crack up a time or two. What fully invests us into the story of bad demon behavior that issues forth from the basement of a new home where Ebony Jackson and her three children live are the performances. Andra Day, in particular, flings herself into a meaty role as alcoholic single momma bear Ebony (dad’s serving in Iraq) who, on occasion, smacks cute young son Dre (Anthony B. Jenkins) around and threatens kids who aren’t nice to hers. Ebony stockpiles one bad decision after another, enough to warrant repeat visits from a wary Child Protective Services agent (Oscar winner Mo’Nique). Day’s volcanic performance seethes with hair-trigger fury and that’s enough reason to give this guilty pleasure a go. So is the chew-the-scenery performance from a delicious Glenn Close as Ebony’s born-again momma Alberta, who moves into this citified “Amityville” hell house after a cancer diagnosis. “The Deliverance” does jump the shark, but it is undeniably entertaining and powered by terrific over-the-top performances.
Details: 2½ stars out of 4; out Aug. 30 on Netflix.
Ariel Vromen’s B-movie thriller rises above its standard heist plot thanks to the actors in it — Tyrese Gibson, Scott Eastwood and the late Ray Liotta — as well as its setting: the post-Rodney-King-verdict L.A. riots. That historical moment plays off in the background as we follow two very different fathers, one a Black man named Mercer (Gibson) who’s recently released from being incarcerated, the other a White man named Lowell (Liotta), who’s intent on stealing metal from a factory where Mercer works. Mercer is trying to protect his son (Christopher A’mmanuel) from getting caught up in the volatile events of that night while Lowell pushes his two sons Riggin (Eastwood) and Dennis (Dylan Arnold) to do dangerous things that will benefit him. A direct and to-the-point screenplay from Sascha Penn and Vromen, and genuine scenes between Gibson and Ammanuem, aid in making “1992” a genre exercise with much more on its mind than you might suspect.
Details: 3 stars; in theaters Aug. 30.
Ever get a lump the size of a baseball in your throat watching an underdog emerge as a hero when the game is on the line? It might seem corny to some that this kind of scene can still make is cry like a baby, but that is the beauty of this baseball movie by director Ty Roberts (“12 Mighty Orphans”) and screenwriter Lane Garrison. Their dramatized true story plays out in 2002 Fort Worth, Texas, recounting how beaten-down attorney and Little League manager Jon Kelly (Greg Kinnear) and even-keeled coach and father Bobby Ratliff (Luke Wilson) took their downright awful Westside Little-League All-Stars team to the Little League World Series — a minor miracle that comes about due to practice, patience and, finally, focus. Just as the players coalesce into something special, Ratliff — a dear friend to all — discovers he has cancer. The amazing thing is “You Gotta Believe” isn’t overly maudlin, even if it occasionally drops the ball in a few scenes. This is a winning family-friendly inspirational drama that celebrates teamwork, friendship and baseball.
Details: 3 stars; in theaters Aug. 30.
Accurate cinematic portrayals of the various stages of grief are sometimes so grave and depressing that they’re virtually unwatchable. Uber-talented San Francisco filmmaker H.P. Mendoza doesn’t skimp in relating the hardships of getting yourself out of the grief rut when you lose a loved one, but he also shows how there are moments of dark, profound humor. Indeed, Mendoza’s lead character Ben Grady (Grant Rosenmeyer, in a yank-your-heart-out performance) stumbles more than once as he tries to move forward after his wife, his co-author of children’s books, has died. But he needs some help getting there, and that’s when he decides he needs to pursue flight after seeing a questionable guru (a hysterically funny Paul Raci) who becomes his Obi-Wan guide of sorts, to the distress of his neighbors, the cops and his sister and her husband. “The Secret Art of Human Flight” lands at a time — just like “The Supremes at Earl’s All-You Can-Eat” — when we could all use it emotional boos it offers. The bittersweet screenplay from Jesse Orenshein ends on an exquisite note.
Details: 3½ stars; available to rent now on various platforms.
In this tragically flawed and sluggish space thriller, an astronaut named John (Casey Affleck) goes on a laborious mission to Saturn’s moon, Titan, where perhaps a solution for global climate may lie. Getting there, though, presents a real risk to him as well as to Captain Franks (Laurence Fishburne) and another astronaut Nash (Tomer Capone) since they need to use the tricky orbital velocity of Jupiter to slingshot their way to their destination. Director Mikael Håfström does an admirable job of making the ship’s tight quarters hostile and claustrophobic. Good that. Where the film utterly fails is in the blah flashback-told backstory about the tepid earth romance between John and a brainy Zoe (Emily Beecham). Their flaccid connection is a real deal breaker since it’s instrumental to the plot. With a shorter running time, a better final scene and a heated-up romance, “Slingshot” might have had lift-off.
Details: 2 stars; in theaters Aug. 30.
An ensemble of top-notch actors (Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Himesh Patel, Simon Rex, Tim Blake Nelson, Lily James, Uzo Aduba) make up for some screenplay slips in director Potsy Ponciroli’s unpredictable, highly entertaining neo-noir. It begins with new-to-a-small-town cop Will (Patel) making a false move that results in the death of a woman (Traci Lords, yes that Traci Lords) in her ritzy home. Will and his swaggering and full-of-himself partner Terry (Gordon-Levitt, landing a good role for a change) discover a bag of loot near her body. Rather than ‘fess up to what happened, they make it look like someone else did the job and then take the money and attempt to run. Screenwriter Mike Vukadinovich packs his tone-shifting plot with numerous interesting characters — including scene-stealing Bay Area native Rex as a living-at-home-with-his-momma masseuse who rubs clients in an extra special way for a few dollars more — along with twists, double crosses and stacks of corpses. It doesn’t always work, but it more often than not hits its target, thanks to the performances and an unexpected ending.
Details: 2½ stars, available to rent.
Contact Randy Myers at soitsrandy@gmail.com.
