Craig

Darren Aronofsky isn’t afraid to take you to hell and back. Nor does he care whether you enjoyed the ride or not.

The already polarized reception mother! has received illuminates the perceived differences between art-house and mainstream audiences. Whereas one side is claimed to revel in philosophical mush, the other prefers explosive and expositive studio slop. Leave it to Aronofsky to embrace polarization and release a film that abides by each of these stereotypes and expertly demonstrates that neither audience is absolute.

Kubrick once purportedly said, “Everything has already been done. Every story has been told every scene has been shot. It’s our job to do it one better.” Such variety is at work in nearly every major studio franchise today, and successfully so. In the indie scene, however, standing apart from say – your inspirations – is a heftier task if one wishes to break any new bounds and gain recognition.

David Lowery’s A Ghost Story is unlike a great deal of films you’ve seen. It’s also hauntingly familiar, something that plays greatly into either your connection or distain for the material. Coincidentally, it’s one of the finest examples of pure cinema, and this decade’s first great entry into the pantheon of almost silent films; yet, one of the most convoluted and indulgent endeavors in film history for its deliberate stylizations.

There’s something to be said for The Axe Murders of Villisca, a spook show that blends the camp of Ghost Hunters with the groans of every Amityville sequel, prequel, and remake into a feel good empowerment story about conquering your deepest, darkest fears and finding friends for life in the process. It has the humor of Daddy Day Care, but frequently scrambles to achieve scares with its half-baked premise too temperamental and afraid of its own shadow to pack a punch. But it…tried?