Reviews
[REVIEW] ‘Smile 2’ Sees Parker Finn up the Ante on Sights, Sounds, and Scares
From its opening sequence, I knew that Smile 2 would be everything I wanted from the first Smile film. Aside from its excellent scripting and some true blue moments of terror from actress Sosie Bacon, the first film felt, unfortunately, underwhelming in how it utilized the horror of having your reality slowly stolen from you. Parker Finn’s directing and Charlie Saroff’s cinematography elevate what would be just a collection of solid scares and pitch-black humor into an enjoyably bleak supernatural experience, the most disturbing parts of which are its human ones. The raw human sorrow it generates, and the feeling of hopelessness it forces you to sit in. It’s a film about the slow and painful consumption of a performer by the masses, and what’s left behind as a result. And it’s what makes Smile 2 a damn good horror sequel.
From its opening sequence, I knew that Smile 2 would be everything I wanted from the first Smile film. Aside from its excellent scripting and some true blue moments of terror from actress Sosie Bacon, the first film felt, unfortunately, underwhelming in how it utilized the horror of having your reality slowly stolen from you.
I had doubts about a sequel beyond that since the Smile movies’ conceit also necessitates running through a plot that you’ve already seen before but in newer and more creative ways. When the “rules” of a monster are as constraining on the narrative as this one, there are only so many avenues the film can take leading to its inevitable ending. It’s a plot that demands you up the ante and make every moment before the credits count and feel worthwhile. And Parker Finn’s Smile 2 manages to do that.
It begins with a full-tilt, anxiety-inducing opening sequence that will leave you wracked with tension. Finn’s camerawork at the start proudly announces what’s to come: while the first Smile sat in steady shots and moments of relative silence to try and creep you out, Smile 2 cranks the amps, making you feel the cacophony of noise and chaos that will soon be plaguing the film’s superstar in mind and body. It’s a showstopping tone-setter, marking the beginning of a great sequel.
With a new album out and a world tour set to begin in a week, singer-songwriter Skye Riley is the comeback kid in the eyes of the media. But behind the scenes, the loss of her boyfriend in a highly publicized car crash, as well as her own substance abuse and self-harm issues, prove to make for anything but a glamorous return. As Skye tries to manage her physical pain from the accident, she witnesses the sudden and brutal suicide of an old friend, with an unnatural smile on his face as he does it. Soon, she finds herself carrying more than guilt for being unable to stop him: the visions of smiling people, both dead and alive, have begun to haunt her, and they’re only getting worse as her grasp on what’s real blurs into nothingness.
The film gives us a messy character to root for in Skye Riley, portrayed in an exceptional performance by Naomi Scott. She feels real and raw, contrasting the artificial persona she’s forced to inhabit and the parasocial leeching she has to stomach. The film goes to lengths to show the skin she’s forced to slough off and put back on to please the people around her, sequins and spandex, and all manner of concert outfits as she walks between living like a human and being treated as a cash cow performer. Naomi Scott in turn dons the resulting exhaustion and misery like a glove and embodies the film’s ideas of a person being left with nothing to give.
Scott is the quintessential pop star trying to be neatly redeemed through the press, and repressing all her emotions until she has to vomit them back out to disastrous effect. She conjures all the parts of Skye’s breakdown, both horrifying and mortifying, with pure dread. Her torture throughout the film feels even more relentless than Rose Cotter’s before her, and it’s due in large part to Scott’s facial acting being dialed in; her eyes manage to anchor the audience’s fear to her own and drag them down to her level.
Still, the film’s writing of her situation regularly dances and springs on the delicate line between “that’s hilarious” and “that’s depressing”, which is undoubtedly skillful. To inject great dark comedy in horror is a lot like composing musical comedy, in that it requires more than being just good at both, it requires shared excellence between the two. Certainly, not every intentional joke hits, but the subtlest moments it has to offer always do. Either way, don’t expect the film to be as strait-laced as the first entry.
In terms of how Smile 2 follows up on its predecessor’s well-loved effects, it’s about on par with what we’ve seen before. Some of the CGI fails to hit its mark, but every wound we’re subjected to, large and small, feels like they’re wrenched from true flesh and blood. Spoilers if you haven’t seen Smile, since this is something that happens in both films, but my one major complaint is the big demonic reveal of The Entity’s “true form”. The final number we saw from the previous film is back with some shiny new paint, and while the compositing of digital and practical effects for this sequence is well done, the “improvements” that have been made to the creature’s look feel overdesigned and a little hokey compared to the pure nightmare fuel we were fed in the climax of Smile. The monster looks a bit irreverent, given the film builds up a genuinely emotional streak throughout it only to cap off on meaty, wide-eyed insanity. That being said, those final shots are still tough to forget in their grotesqueness, and it’s an effective closer that does exactly what it needs to.
Parker Finn’s directing and Charlie Saroff’s cinematography elevate what would be just a collection of solid scares and pitch-black humor into an enjoyably bleak supernatural experience, the most disturbing parts of which are its human ones. The raw human sorrow it generates, and the feeling of hopelessness it forces you to sit in. It’s a film about the slow and painful consumption of a performer by the masses, and what’s left behind as a result. And it’s what makes Smile 2 a damn good horror sequel.
The aughts were the wild wild west when it came to remakes and reboots. One subgenre that excelled in striking fear into the hearts of North Americans was unquestionably J-horror. It was a craze that gave a 10-ish-year-old me nightmares for too much of my childhood. Out of all of the J-horror remakes that frightened me, the one I never got around to checking out was Shutter. Which is what I was initially going to open this review with. That was until I realized that Shutter wasn’t a J-horror remake! Talk about egg on my face!
A Haunting Tale in Japan
Shutter follows Ben Shaw (Joshua Jackson), a seasoned photographer who moves to Japan with his new wife Jane (Rachael Taylor). Their first night in Japan gets off to an awful start when Jane runs over a mysterious woman at night. Jane starts seeing this mysterious woman throughout her daily life, and Ben’s photos become unusable when a spirit takes them over one by one. Is this spirit coming after Ben and Jane for the accident? Or, is this spirit haunting them for a more sinister reason?
This hastily assembled remake is directed by Masayuki Ochiai and written by Luke Dawson. After Shutter, Dawson’s only other notable script would be the 2015 flop The Lazarus Effect. Which is what I was initially going to write until I learned that The Lazarus Effect brought in nearly $40 million at the box office. It’s difficult to say what the worst part of Shutter is, but the script is definitely at the top of that list. Not only is the script boring and bereft of any real terror, but the characters are beyond flat. Even without having seen Shutter (2004), it was clear what direction this film was taking, and any suspense that could have existed flew right out the window.
Failed Cultural Commentary
Dawson’s script attempts to take a look at white people forcibly inserting themselves into a culture and making it all about themselves. But it’s such a surface-level observation and handled with the care of a five-year-old’s crayon drawing that it’s nearly laughable. At the very least, Shutter does succeed at being a good-for-her film. And for that, I can tip my hat.
Director Masayuki Ochiai and cinematographer Katsumi Yanagijima fail to explore any space in any meaningful way. Japan is a beautiful location, and it’s completely wasted throughout this film. The only really visually interesting moment is the well-choreographed car crash. From there, things quickly go downhill. I’m sure there’s a way to make a film about spirit photography feel interesting and scary, but this is definitely not the right approach.
Shutter is a Forgettable Horror Flop
I’ve covered a lot of films during my tenure at Horror Press that I’ve never seen before. It’s a gamble I’m happy to risk. Whether they hit or miss doesn’t usually matter to me. For some reason, I held Shutter in high regard. I thought people were over the moon for this film. I suppose I can add this to my list of films, such as The Barrens and Warm Bodies, as ones I could easily consider a complete waste of time.
Within the found footage subgenre exists an even more niche and untapped market. Screen life has slowly overtaken found footage; hardcore fans, like myself, ache for something different. One of the more interesting sub-subgenres of found footage is something that I don’t think has a name yet, so let’s name it here and now. How about…TV-gone-rogue! The TV-gone-rogue subgenre is small. Ghostwatch got the ball rolling for these gone rogue-like films, but there was radio silence for quite some time. It would be Chris LaMartina’s WNUF Halloween Special that really brought this idea back into the limelight. Many filmmakers have tried to make TV-gone-rogue interesting, and many have failed. That is until Simon Glassman stepped onto the scene with Buffet Infinity.
Buffet Infinity: A Chaotic Tale of Westridge
The town (city?) of Westridge is whisked into chaos when the new Buffet Infinity restaurant rolls into town. Local sandwich shop owner Jennifer Avery (Allison Bench) is the first to take the soon-to-be conglomerate to task with increasingly pointed advertisements. Suddenly, local restaurant owners/workers go missing in droves as Buffet Infinity expands into neighboring businesses. Sinkholes, missing cityfolk, quarantines, and mysterious sounds abound, leaving residents to ask one question…who really has the sauce?
On the Brooklyn Horror Film Festival schedule, the header image for Buffet Infinity shows multiple people T-posing and floating in the sky. I was immediately sold. I had no clue what I was getting into, and I didn’t want to know. The film was introduced as “one of the craziest we have this year.” (Slightly paraphrasing.) What was I about to watch? Little did I know, it was about to be an hour and forty minutes of small-town madness.
Writers Allison Bench and Elisia Snyder, and writer-director Simon Glassman, transport viewers into an upside down world of weaponized local ads; a thriving town invaded by the deep pockets of monopolized capitalism. As someone who grew up in a decently sized town, though probably not large enough to be considered a city, there was a tinge of nostalgia that accompanied Buffet Infinity. Westridge feels cozy and intimate, a town where everyone knows your name. It’s a “baked in a buttery flaky crust” town. Sure, they have their McDonald’s and Burger Kings, but the real townsfolk eat at Jennifer’s sandwich shop–local knitting circles murmur about what they think is in Jennifer’s secret sauce. Simply put, Westridge feels like a home that many people like myself grew up in. And it reminds us of a simpler time that’s long gone.
A Unique Blend of Humor and Eldritch Terror
Buffet Infinity hides its horror well. It slowly guides the viewer into a sense of unease. As easily as the creators have you laughing, they have you squirming. The absurdist joy quickly transforms into Eldritch terrors from beyond. Many filmmakers say they’re inspired by the idea of it’s-not-what-you-see that’s scary, but many times it feels performative. Bench, Glassman, and Snyder have crafted a truly special script that edges you with terror and excitement. They constantly push you to the edge of release, and then back away. It’s the Japanese water torture of exposition. And, for me, it works incredibly well.
One of the most important aspects of Buffet Infinity is the over-capitalization of our lives. While the creators tackle this idea in a tongue-in-cheek manner, their message is highly effective. For the most part. This constant tete-a-tete between Buffet Infinity and the locals is highly amusing, but brings a larger conversation to the forefront. The town I grew up in is a shadow of what it once was. And I know many feel the same about the towns they grew up in. I can already hear the moans of people who dislike this film: “Brandon, it’s not that deep.” And I would highly disagree. Buffet Infinity feels like a reflective protest film–a loud and proud middle finger at what we should have said when the Super Walmart put mom and pops out of business.
Sorry, this review has gone off the rails. Let’s reel it back in a bit.
Why Buffet Infinity Redefines Found Footage
Buffet Infinity is a riotous romp, a hilarious horror that goes from zero to 100 pretty damn fast. Each commercial slowly builds on its last and uniquely tells its story. This film sets a new precedent for the TV-gone-rogue subgenre. Not to directly compare, but a film like WNUF Halloween Special (a film I love) uses its commercials as a coda; it’s a separation of what you saw/heard and prepares you for the next movement. Buffet Infinity uses its commercial to create the story. Instead of watching news pieces, then irrelevant commercials, then back to news pieces, Buffet Infinity breaks the mold. Hell, it creates the mold.
As someone who has been dying to see a Welcome to Nightvale film, Buffet Infinity is the closest thing I could ask for. It is full of killer performances (looking at you, Ahmed Ahmed), is well-crafted, and sets a new precedent on an underutilized side of found footage. Buffet Infinity is a full-course meal. I highly suspect that Buffet Infinity will gather the unwavering support that Hundreds of Beavers gathered and will go on to be considered an instant classic of the 2020s.
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