A film that raises big questions—about gods, monsters, and the cost of creation—and then answers them with pseudo-intellectual hooha and a bunch of splatters. It’s poetry for meatballs. A creation myth written by someone who forgot the difference between being mysterious and confounding. There’s a premise here. But it never shows up on screen. The director described the film as having [layers of metaphor]. By minute 20, my response to him would be: “Uh nah bruh … you ain’t that deep.” The characters are emotionally unbalanced idiots. This crew is supposedly trained for deep interstellar colonization. No backup plan. No safety protocols. No sense of hierarchy or mission discipline. They panic, scream, and grieve like they’ve just lost soulmates—they are too young to have known each other or been through anything more severe than a power point presentation. They lack agency. They don’t make decisions—they react, flail, and sometimes avoid shooting themselves or blowing themselves up...
A Southern Gothic tale - with all the symbolism you care to find from that genre. What does it mean to belong? How does a community treat its undesirables? What role does religion play in defining good and clean? What do you have to give up to be part of the clan? This movie probes some very deep stuff. If you just want the top-level show without all the questions this flick evokes - you get gangsters, vampires, and blues music. It is all the magic I found in a Pizza Hut Supreme when I was a kid. Wonderfully grotesque metaphors. Moving scores. Impact through sound design, camera focus, tracking, color palette and lighting. This movie is brilliantly made. I am trying to put my finger on a performance that is stand out, but I can't really. It is quite an ensemble. I think if there is one series I loved it is when Stack goes to get supplies for the party: that negotiation with the girl by the truck, the greeting at the 'black' grocery, the shooting, the '1-shot' wher...