Threshold (2020)

Siblings Leo (Joey Millin) and Virginia (Madison West) are not on the best of terms these days, despite apparently once having been rather close. This has probably something to do with your typical incongruity of character traits: name, Virginia is a drug addict with a long history of relapses and Leo is a bit of a prick at the best of times.

Though, to be fair to the guy, when Leo is called in to drive Virginia to rehab, he’s doing it, even though he is going through some heavy divorce proceedings himself; he does it with a lot of grumbling, of course.

The thing is, or so Virginia says once Leo arrives at her place, she’s not actually on any drugs anymore but has been cursed by a cult that magically detoxed her when she was at her worst. Part of this curse is a curious psychical/physical connection to another guy. Basically, she feels some of the things he feels, particularly pain, or, as it turns out, drug highs. Virginia is convinced that if she could only meet the other half of this curious curse, things could be resolved. Eventually, she manages to convince Leo to help her get to the other side of the United States, where she’s probably meant to go to find her magical other half. On the way, there’s a lot of bitching and bonding between the siblings, and some curious encounters with the low key weird.

This is the second time I attempted to watch Powell Robinson and Patrick Robert Young’s Threshold. The first time around, I quickly lost interest in the film’s series of – often clearly improvised – scenes of Leo and Virginia bitching, whining and sometimes bonding. There’s a rather rambling quality to the film, even with a length of barely eighty minutes, which can get annoying rather quickly if one isn’t in the mood for this approach to filmmaking and road movies at the moment.

This time around, I was in the proper frame of mind, though, and even though I still believe that a couple of scenes could have used a judicious bit of pruning, I actually found myself getting into the groove of the complicated sibling relationship here, the peculiar rhythms of the film, as well as the genuine quality of the acting, and the sense of truthfulness this conjures up.

I also felt rather happy with the film’s treatment of the weirdness that’s part of the siblings’ road trip through the US of motels and side-roads that tends to go over so well with us Europeans, the way the film’s stranger moments spiritually seem to fit these in-between places perfectly, getting at the connection between the liminal places of deeply quotidian life and the Weird in ways not easy to reach, or to explain. Eventually, everything culminates in a well-staged, deeply low budget in the best way, and also deeply strange climax that’s pretty much perfect for Threshold. Including a last second “gotcha!” bit that’s absolutely in keeping with the rest of the film, and simply very fun.

Three Films Make Me Grumpy: One Day After A Million Years It Came Out Of Hiding To... Kill! Kill! Kill!

Big Bad (2016): So, some kids are locked into an abandoned jail for a fundraiser (don’t ask me, I didn’t write this nonsense), and are attacked by a hairy, scrawny monster. Supposed hilarity ensues, or as I call it, an unending series of jokes which turn out to be neither funny nor timed well. To be fair, Opie Cooper’s film also contains horror parts so mild they shouldn’t disturb a sensitive child, tedious plotting, and lots of feet dragging to get the thing to length, but that’s not exactly the sort of thing to make a film sound any better.

Turns out a horror comedy kind of needs to be funny. Who knew?

Ghost Team (2016): On the plus side, at least Big Bad doesn’t have a cloyingly corny moral like Oliver Irving’s film about a bunch of losers going on a ghost hunt and stumbling into a really crap Scooby Doo episode without even a talking dog in sight. The moral of the tale of course is that nobody’s a loser, except for the audience confronted with a bunch of jokes so obvious, my grandma is complaining they aren’t fresh enough – which actually is just as funny as ninety percent of the jokes in Ghost Team.

Shall I also complain about the boring and obvious characters and about the dearth of imagination on display? Done.

Bastard (2015): This is what you get when you randomly mash the visual style of one horror sub-genre with the soundtrack style of a different one, and include everything plus the cannibal/kitchen sink in your script, including the old ultra violence and some particularly random moments of “irony”. It’s a really pretty looking mess with fine practical special effects in search of a script that would either actually know how to connect all the different bits and pieces from a thousand horror sub-genres included here, had something interesting to say about them, or did anything else but demonstrate that directors Powell Robinson and Patrick Robert Young have seen a lot of horror movies. As it stands, it’s one of the best looking films that ever kept me quite this disinterested in anything going on in it.