Reviewed: “Thrash,” “Hamlet” and “Exit 8.”Mike & Nick & Nick & Alice”
The title of this slack crime comedy-cum-love triangle calls to mind Paul Mazursky’s open relationship romp “Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice.” That 1969 curio starring Natalie Wood and Elliot Gould played on character and the times. Here, as directed by BenDavid Grabinski, “Mike & Nick & Nick & Alice” pretty much steals concepts from elsewhere and mixes them together in the blandest, nod-and-wink, not funny way. Vince Vaughn (“Swingers”) and James Marsden (such a good JFK-like prez in “Paradise”) play Nick and Mike, hitmen who are the target of a local mobster named Sosa (Keith David and his glorious baritone, sadly wasted). Allegedly, it’s because Marsden’s Mike ratted out Sosa’s son Jimmy Boy (Jimmy Tatro, “You’re Cordially Invited”), who got collared and had to do time.
The film’s set in the aftermath of Jimmy’s release. Why Sosa, a Black man, refers to Jimmy, who is not Black, as his son is never fully explained — though both spew the same low brow rhetoric and spend much of their time at strip clubs, ogling and hooting. But then there’s the two Nicks, who happen to be one and the same. Did I mention there’s a time machine? There is, and so Vaughn’s Nick from the future comes back to get the Nick of the present to help save Mike. Adding further complications is that Nick’s estranged wife Alice (a fiery Eliza Gonzalez, who is about the best thing in the movie) is hooking up with Mike.
Much of what transpires is four talking heads hatching overly complicated plans to save Mike from Sosa, who has dispatched the feared cannibal hitman, “The Baron,” to extract his pound of flesh. It’s all punched up pulp pablum made further infuriating by the ersatz use of Wong Kar-wai’s slow-mo, “gun-fu” flare. It’s as insulting to the viewer as it is to Wong. Then there’s the gotcha ending that’s palm plant worthy and then some. If I could hop in a time machine and go back, I’d skip this inanity and spin up Wong’s cool Asian-noir “Chungking Express” (1994).
“Thrash”
Mother Nature unleashes a massive storm that floods a coastal town and within its waters comes an unexpected peril: bull sharks—notoriously aggressive and lethal. As I watched “Thrash,” I kept thinking I had recently seen this movie, and I had, the 2019 gator-invader horror flick “Crawl” — pretty much the same thing: a Cat 5 hurricane, a slightly different locale (Florida versus South Carolina) and sharks subbing in for the gators.
In a cloistered seaside burg, the levee breaks, and those who made the unwise decision to shelter in place — or failed to get out before the deluge — literally become shark bait. Adding chum to the waters is a tanker full of beef byproducts that gets ripped in half by a Civil War-era monument — its bloody red contents pluming into the rushing flow. Stranded atop a dining room table are three foster kids (Alyla Browne, Stacy Clausen and Dante Ubaldi) while across town, a waylaid orphan (Whitney Peak, “Home Before Dark”) tries to rescue a pregnant woman (Phoebe Dynevor, “Bridgerton”) trapped in a semi-submerged car. Hors d’oeuvres served early are the mean, rednecky foster parents and Good-ol’-boy Samaritans trying to aid the imperiled. Then there’s Nelly, a massive great white being tracked by the orphan’s shark-expert uncle (Djimon Hounsou) inbound aboard the mother of all zodiacs.
The name “Crawl” meant something — our heroes were trapped in a crawl space, plus that’s how gators move. “Thrash” doesn’t, because bull sharks don’t thrash (thrasher sharks do as they use their tails to stun prey). Bulls get their name because they ram with their head.
The CGI sharks and storm effects are well done. It’s a flimsy, ephemeral time lapse that swims by in an entertainingly compatible 90 minutes. Directed by Tommy Wirkola (“The Trip”), whom I initially confused with Tommy Wiseau of “The Room” fame (considered the worst movie ever made), who also made a 2023 fin back flick called “Big Shark.” Both Tommys need better film titles.
“Hamlet”
Hamlet in all its variants seems to be the name on Hollywood’s lips these days, with last year’s “Hamnet” and 2022’s “The Northman,” based on the Danish poem “Amleth” that inspired Shakespeare to name his son Hamnet and write the play. Now there’s this bold new version, though too uneven to top the adaptations by Laurence Oliver (1948, Oscar winner), Kenneth Branagh (1996) and the 1990 spin directed by Franco Zeffirelli and starring Mel Gibson and Glen Close.
The setting is now, in the Indian section of East London, and the kingdom is a real estate empire. Riz Ahmed (“The Sound of Metal”) plays the title role, and his uncle Claudius (Art Malik), responsible for Hamlet’s father’s death, is poised to marry Hamlet’s widowed mother, Gertrude (Sheeba Chaddha) and take over the business. This modern take on the Oedipal-adjacent tale is directed by Aneil Karia, who won the 2020 Live Action Short Oscar with “The Long Goodbye” (also starring Ahmed). It’s bloody, muddled and at times downright riveting, thank to Ahmed’s, strong, slow simmer. At points, though, an aural din suffocates his quiet rage — the classic soliloquy comes amid the revving of a muscle car’s engine and loses its effect. Shakespeare is tricky; some change it up and catch fire (Baz Luhrman’s “Romeo and Juliet,” “My Own Private Idaho”) while others fail to spark (“Made Men” and the Ethan Hawke “Hamlet” from 2000 set in corporate New York). The Ahmed-Karia effort smolders. To be or not to be? Maybe, maybe not.
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