Maldoror (2024) - The Dark Heart of Belgium

 

Fabrice du Welz first garnered widespread attention with his succinct, surreal shocker, Calvaire, which along with other gruesome Francophone horrors became part of The New French Extremity in the early/mid 00s. His latest, Maldoror, is a different animal altogether but one that also confronts the darkest recesses of human behavior head on. An absorbing crime thriller that takes its inspiration from one of Belgium's most notorious true crime cases: that of serial killer and rapist Marc Dutroux. The real life Dutroux abducted, abused, and killed a series of young girls in the 80s and 90s and his case created a national scandal due to the mishandling of both an earlier prosecution and subsequent investigations that allowed Dutroux to remain active. Du Welz creates a fictional law enforcement character, Paul Chartier played by Anthony Bajon, to frame his story and changes aspects (particularly in the finale) of actual events while still exploring the judicial dysfunction and bureaucratic corruption that led to a national tragedy.

The film opens with credits composed of ominous VHS tracking haze complimented by a throbbing synth score. Vintage aesthetics are popular with a slew of current filmmakers but du Welz uses them purposefully to point both to the time period and the critical role pre-digital media will play in the case. Chartier is a young member of the Gendarmerie with an unconventionally checkered past including a father in prison and a mother who worked in a brothel (played by provocative screen icon Béatrice Dalle). Chartier's youthful eagerness to prove his dedication leads him to volunteer for a special surveillance unit hoping to uncover information leading to the whereabouts of two missing girls. Paul and his senior partner spend hours and days maintaining watch over a series of societal outcasts and their activities around a scrapyard at the edge of town. The investigation is hobbled due to a lack of equipment and jurisdictional limitations but it's clear that some nefarious activity is occurring. The stand-in for Dutroux, Marcel Dedieu played by veteran Spanish actor Sergi López (who couldn't be more different from the role he recently played in Sirat), leads a pack of outsiders that range from the filthy and sad to improbably weird. Convinced of Dedieu's involvement with the missing girls but frustrated by an inability to find anything other than inconclusive circumstantial evidence, Chartier begins to cross procedural lines in order to find something establishing Dedieu's guilt. Paul's rule bending leads to professional recriminations and when the investigation proceeds under the jurisdiction of a different police unit, Paul's record and familial criminal ties make him the scapegoat for his own flailing department. While the entire film incorporates fictional elements, the finale is purely fabricated and its messaging remains somewhat ambiguous. It possesses a sense of closure absent from the actual events while remaining deeply cynical about how justice systems function.

Even without much knowledge of the source inspiration, Maldoror delivers a taut, darkly compelling neo-noir that successfully blends recognizable genre elements with a distinctly bleak worldview. An extended and naturalistic wedding scene in the early part of the film hearkens back to crime epics of the 70s and 80s. Much like in those films, the sequence works to establish the comparatively normal rhythms of Chartier's life and a priest extolling the endurance of love and the triumph of divine goodness over earthly evil foreshadows the adversity to come. It's a mistake to describe Maldoror as particularly "Lynchian", however du Welz did cite Dennis Hopper's Frank Booth as an inspiration for Marcel Dedieu. López's affect is largely more subdued than Hopper's, but Maldoror contains a pop song fueled nightmare that rivals Lynch's "Candy Colored Clown" in terms of menace. One of Dedieu's accomplices, Dardenne, clad in a leather suit, massive mullet hairdo, and flip flops could just as easily be in Bobby Peru's entourage in Wild at Heart. Characters make several references to crime films and shows in the picture including a direct invocation of Silence of the Lambs. This plays out narratively during Chartier's late night investigation of a garage that hearkens back directly to Clarice's nerve shredding investigation of Hannibal Lecter's storage locker. It's a dark sequence and lands in a place not dissimilar to elements from Harris' follow up, Hannibal. 

While it's hard not to notice some cinematic nods, du Welz's vision is personal and employs a distinct specificity of both time and place. Dismal industrial landscapes, scrapyards, and garages complement the anonymous apartment blocks and impersonal municipal buildings of Belgium. Maldoror evokes the banality of evil in every frame.  A smart use of surveillance, voyeurism, and seemingly actual (though likely recreated) video footage brilliantly manage the pacing of the film. Du Welz opens the aperture onto the Belgian criminal underground gradually, at first revealing only unnerving glimpses of potential darkness that slowly metastasize into fully fledged horrors. It's the same creeping feeling of watching a murky bootleg video or trying to peer through the static of a forbidden television station until you've seen something you wish you had not. Du Welz indicts a dysfunctional system but also a culture and a public fascinated by these nightmares. Maldoror is an ambitious take on the serial killer genre as well as "true-crime" and apparently the first in a potential series of films exploring the history of, as du Welz puts it, a "...very strange country." It's an obvious recommendation for fans of dark crime thrillers and while Maldoror wouldn't be confused for a French Extremity film, those grim echoes remain.

MALDOROR PREMIERES ON VOD & DIGITAL ON JANUARY 16, 2026

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The RIP (2026) - Bromance Under Siege

 

Joe Carnahan is back with a straight-to-streaming crime thriller that might be more notable for the deal that producers/stars Ben Affleck and Matt Damon made with Netflix than the film itself. The Rip features Damon and Affleck as members of the Miami based Tactical Narcotics Team recently under scrutiny after their captain was murdered. The team's specialty is seizures (rips) of drugs, guns, and especially cash from Florida dope dealers. After a series of overlapping interviews with internal affairs, Dane Dumars (Damon) is somewhat mysteriously tipped off about a stash house that might be holding a significant sum of cartel cash.  Upon further investigation, the team (also featuring Steven Yuen, Teyana Taylor, and Catalina Sandino Moreno) uncovers a fortune behind the attic walls and what follows is a test of trust as they realize that someone; the cartel, corrupt cops, or even one of their own; is not about to let that amount of money go quietly into an evidence locker.

Carnahan's career is one of peaks and valleys and while he hasn't hit the heights of Narc or The Grey for many years, he's still able to channel his strengths on occasion when it comes to hardboiled grit and action. There's evidence of that in The Rip which opens with a suitably kinetic sequence detailing the demise of that aforementioned captain. Unfortunately, while good, the action sequences in Rip are frequently shunted to the background in favor of repeated exchanges between long time TNT members Dumars and Byrne (Affleck) or the rest of the team either trying to determine their allegiances or flatly accusing each other of corruption. These scenes aren't poorly acted and Damon and Affleck have the chemistry you would expect from two men with a personal and professional partnership lasting many decades. However, the writing feels uninspired and repetitive maintaining an almost myopic focus on its two stars despite having such a killer ensemble. Teyana Taylor, rightfully being recognized for One Battle After Another, is given practically nothing to do here. What could have been a tense, paranoid pressure cooker feels more like a clunky whodunnit that has an especially lame reveal and one that comes early enough in the film that the final thirty minutes feels more obligatory than thrilling. 

The inspiration from The Rip allegedly stems from an actual Florida police unit that focuses on following and seizing drug money and there are some light touches of police procedural on display. The idea that the team has to make the count onsite with the potential of enemies closing in all around them sounds like an excellent set up for the kind of edgy genre thriller Carnahan is very capable of. The intention may have been an exploration of ethical pitfalls of law enforcement who has to face the absurd material wealth of the criminals they're looking to bust. Unfortunately, The Rip fails on both fronts and delivers a watchable crime film that offers a few bright spots but ultimately falters to bring anything insightful to the genre.

The Rip is available on Netflix on 1/16/2025

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Anywhere (2025) - Death and Desperation in Oklahoma

Playwright Adam Seidel's feature film debut, Anywhere, takes familiar noir elements cast against a rural backdrop and delivers them with unexpected twists and sometimes shocking violence. The set-up is a classic one: roughneck John comes home from his road gig only to discover that his wife, Syd, may have hooked up with his abusive older brother. The brothers confront each other and the ensuing brawl leads to a sudden murder which necessitates a messy cover up. Though they hide their tracks inexpertly, John and Syd do buy themselves enough time to find somewhere new; some place far from prying local eyes. Their trust and relationship begin to fray as guilt, personal ambition, and the realities of the world away from home come crashing into their lives.

Anywhere could easily be thought of in the vein of early Coen Bros. films (or Raimi's A Simple Plan) with its take on crime story tropes and regional specificity. There's a wry undercurrent of humor coursing below the surface of the film and its characters, particularly some of the supporting ones, exhibit a charming degree of folksy quirkiness. However, Seidel's film never erupts into full throated comedy and the moments of violence, while outrageous at times, maintain their gravity. Joshua Burge (Vulcanizadora) is perfectly cast as John; his inherently haunted expression and guttural croak naturally lend themselves to a perpetually lonesome hard luck case. Hayley McFarland (Agnes) as Syd manages the challenging task of embodying a diminutive if determined small town girl who becomes brutally pragmatic and capably violent in her pursuit of a better life. Fortunately, Seidel takes the time to illustrate the uglier sides of Syd's daily routine that nudge her towards increasingly extreme actions. Part of what makes Anywhere work outside of genre thrills is how well it illustrates mundane desperation festering until it explodes. 

This is an indie film and does have some awkward moments. Not every conversation or character moment feels fully polished. However, there are some excellent supporting appearances — Sean Gunn stands out as a stomach churningly creepy landlord who winds up pushing the couple too far —and it's hard not to appreciate such a genuine sense of place. The Oklahoma of Anywhere is sparse without being bleak and the interiors (mostly trailers and taverns) have a surprising degree of wood paneled warmth despite the grim subject matter. For the most part, the tension in Anywhere simmers. The measured pace hangs heavy with unspoken issues and the dread of crimes uncovered. However, when events reach a head, Seidel isn't afraid to bare the dark hearts of his protagonists for all to see.

Anywhere has been making the festival rounds and is available NOW on VOD

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Nobody Wants to Shoot a Woman (2024) - Stealing Survival

Few have it harder than women in crime cinema: the ill-fated moll, the grieving mother, or the wife who sees her life disintegrate as a result of a partner's greed, violence, and indiscretion. Kerry Ann Enright's feature debut, Nobody Wants to Shoot a Woman, takes a familiar violent aftermath scenario and shifts the focus to a woman who finds empowerment instead of tragedy in the disarray. Tina Benko (Flesh and Bone) stars as Mary, a tough but wounded wife and mother who is left empty-handed after her abusive bank robbing husband meets a bloody end thanks to his outsized gambling addiction. Mary makes an honest effort to enter the legitimate working world but faces discrimination due to her age and less savory affiliations. With her back against a wall of mounting bills and a son to provide for, Mary leverages those connections and joins up with her husband's heist crew only to discover her natural affinity for armed robbery.

While neither as hardboiled or bombastic as big budget crime thrillers, Woman exudes scrappy independence and is buoyed by a seasoned cast of East Coast performers. Benko's Mary plays the submissive wife early in the film though she still retains an steely reserve that foreshadows the badass that she evolves into. Once committed to criminal acts, Mary demonstrates quick witted resourcefulness that serves her and her comparatively buffoonish accomplices well. She begins to embrace the thrill of the heist as well as the alter ego, Machine Gun Mary, given to her by the local press. Her former powerlessness gives way to confidence bordering on swagger as she confronts a friend's scumbag ex-husband or navigates parent-teacher meetings with the same unsentimental efficiency as she exhibits holding up an art gallery. Benko; armored with a dark wig, oversized sunglasses, and a trench coat; possesses 90s action hero style but her performance has range and she's convincing in her vulnerable moments as well. Enright keeps her film focused on character and surrounds Benko with a ensemble of solid actors to work off of. Her playful scenes with Max Casella (Inside Llewyn Davis) as Eddie contrast his thrill and pleasure seeking against Mary's pragmatic approach to crime. Their repeated lavish dinners at a dimly lit French restaurant provide some quieter, more intimate moments though these rendezvous are inevitably revealed as a pretense to a new caper.

Narratively, Nobody Wants to Shoot a Women has some awkward moments and its feminist underpinnings are anything but subtle. However the film remains engaging via Benko's potent performance and the ultimately nuanced portrait of Mary. Additionally, Enright's genre bona fides are all well rendered—tense heist sequences, noir-ish Chiaroscuro lighting, and some excellent location work (shout out to Neir's Tavern). It's an authentic, stylish backdrop for this crew of charismatic performers resulting in a cool, earnest indie crime charmer. 

Nobody Wants to Shoot a Woman is available NOW on VOD

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2025 - Year in Review

 2025 was a year I had certain ambitions for and unfortunately life and my own terminal inability to manage time seemed to intercede. Some of that was the changing nature of my work obligations and some of that is my adjusting to life as a quasi-film critic instead of just a guy who spouts off about movies online. Not that it was all disappointment, not by a long shot. I attended many screenings and two different film festivals as media, was able to appear on a couple of podcasts, wrote pieces for Perisphere, got to write the screening notes for one of my all-time favorites, and published what has become one of my favorite now-annual pieces: The Best of Hardboiled Crime.

Something new for 2026 that I'm trying out is my first newsletter. The blog isn't going away, but I wanted a format that feels more casual and somewhere I can write about crime fiction in a more general way. I've already written a welcome letter that has some thoughts on the three film adaptations of Donald Westlake books that were released in 2025. Check it out here and I hope you'll subscribe.

Watching Trends - 2025 was one of my lightest recent years in terms of number of movies watched. Shy of the 365+ I typically hit. I think I was burning out mid-year, but I seem to have recovered in November and December while I was mainlining new releases both for my Hardboiled list and so that I could effectively participate in the Minnesota Film Critics Association awards. Per usual my most-watched genre according to Letterboxd was "drama" followed closely by "crime." Other than an oddball year crammed with French film, I typically watch many more films from the USA than any other single country. Despite this, my most watched actor was (again) Hideo Murota. I attribute this largely to a slew of 80s yakuza movies I watched towards the beginning of the year (several of which I intend to cover in an upcoming volume of Apache Revolver). My most watched director this year was David Lynch. Like many film fans, I spent a chunk of 2025 revisiting Lynch films, art, music, and writing. I'm not remotely unique in how Lynch's work influenced me, but the loss of his presence in the world is still profound.

Theatrical Experiences!

Every year I essentially compliment the Twin Cities on the depth, breadth, and engagement of our local cinema scene by recounting some of my favorite theater going experiences. I'd say, if anything, that's only improved over the last year. The number of cool screenings going on in any given week can be overwhelming and the more popular series are selling out weeks and even months in advance. It can be frustrating (the Super Spook Show Spectacular sold out in minutes and I missed it completely) but I don't think I'd have it any other way. If anything, it offers growing opportunities for other people and venues to get involved. Recently there's been news of Chicago's Music Box Theatre acquiring our beloved Heights Theater which I am hoping is a healthy sign of its longevity. There's also teasing of Vinegar Syndrome opening a storefront in Minneapolis which could prove to be a sorely needed lynchpin for the local physical media crowd. Film can be an odd place to build community, you spend a lot of time in dark rooms not talking to or looking at anyone else, but it does happen thanks to so many dedicated folks willing to put in this great work.

I Knew Her Well (1965) - Every year as part of the Italian Film Festival there is a repertory screening at 11am on a Saturday and I think each year that screening has made it to this list. This year was no exception as we were treated to Antonio Pietrangeli's I Knew Her Well starring the positively luminous Stefania Sandrelli. This is a film I knew of but had never seen before and what an absolute joyous and heartbreaking theatrical experience it is. Equally stunning and devastating with gorgeous location work and an incredibly astute incorporation of pop music that precedes film trends for the next decade (I made a youtube playlist if you want to check out some killer tunes). If somehow you are not already in love with Sandrelli, you will be after viewing this. 

Harry and Tonto (1974) - I am wildly enthusiastic about Art Carney's cinematic output from the 70s through the early 80s and Harry and Tonto is objectively his finest performance of the lot. We had the profoundly good fortune to see this sadly obscure classic on glorious 16mm thanks to local heroes, The Cult Film Collective. The print was a television edit, which I didn't realize going in, but it didn't diminish my enjoyment of it. Some of the coarser language and sequences were cut, however I was surprised to see at least one scene improved by a trim. Harry & Tonto remains a thoughtful, humane, melancholy, and terribly funny portrait of lives in transition. It also provides a triple threat of cinematic urban time capsule goodness - capturing parts of New York, Chicago, and LA in the 70s. I was very honored to have written the printed program that CFC distributed to attendees. I think the piece was solid and (thanks to CFC) the programs looked really terrific.

Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000) - I remembered being distinctly dubious when I went to see Ang Lee's epic hit when it opened. I considered myself some kind of Hong Kong cinema aficionado and was NOT impressed with various Hollywood attempts at importing Wuxia stylings (please forgive my youthful ego). Also, Lee hadn't done anything like a martial arts film so what was I to expect? The film shut me up so quickly and I was both chastened and became an ardent champion of it to anyone who would listen. It had been many years since I revisited Tiger so while watching it as part of MSPIFF, I was very much reliving that same thrill during the opening brawl between Michelle Yeoh and Zhang Ziyi. I couldn't help but think how deprived we are of action this virtuosic since the balance has tipped towards digital effects even in Asian cinema. What a joy to see action and adventure at this scale shot on film even in digital projection. 

As a fitting bookend to the screening, I was able to attend a Q&A with the man himself, Ang Lee. He spoke for around an hour with a moderator and I feel like I could have listened to him all night. Lee was incredibly humble about what he's been able to achieve and yet not overly demure. He's clearly passionate, perceptive, and possessed of a certain eloquence though he constantly deprecates his English. Great event and I was very grateful to some of my fellow MNFCA folks who waved me over to a good spot

A New Leaf (1971) - A film I absolutely adore and playing on 35mm at The Trylon, it doesn't get much better. I initially saw all of Elaine May's films on my own at home so I'm never quite sure how her thorny, uncomfortable approach to comedy will play with an audience. New Leaf positively destroyed with the crowd I watched it with - the Grecian nightgown bit nearly brought the house down and it's one of those deeply cathartic experiences that keeps your love for public moviegoing alive. As an aside, I took my mother to this and she thought it was the best thing she'd seen in quite some time.

The Howling (1981) - We caught this at the Prospect Park Nitehawk theater while we were in Brooklyn. This was a screening co-hosted by the Brooklyn Horror Society and The Twisted Spine. We'd been to other BHS screenings before and The Twisted Spine is a horror lit. imprint that has since  opened a brick & mortar horror/dark lit. bookstore. This particular screening featured an introduction by actor and horror author Nat Cassidy who we got to meet briefly afterwards. All of that is cool and one of the many reasons we prioritize getting out to films while we're in NYC. The Howling is also very cool with a fantastic cast and brilliant creature effects. I hadn't seen in a decade or more so this was a terrific way to revisit.

Tough Guys Don't Dance (1987) - Shown at Emagine Willow Creek as part of their Genre Brain Melt series, Norman Mailer's arch neo-noir has a legendary reputation for being a "bad" movie. However, I've always found it to be an absurdly entertaining, outrageous double shot of cocaine and booze fueled crime melodrama. This was my first time seeing Tough Guys in a theater or with anyone else, period, and I thought it played like gangbusters. Laughter, gasps, and cheers punctuated the positively bonkers audio mix that you get such a visceral sense of in a theater. My wife said this was the best movie she watched that month and I think she was right.

Ozone (1994) - Another visit to the Trylon, this time thanks to the lovely people at Trash Film Debauchery. Ultimately, my shot-on-video sympathies will always be with the real weirdos who shoot  braindead dronescapes that should not exist, but I don't know how you can't be impressed with the technical acumen on display in J.R. Bookwalter's Ozone. A crime/sci-fi/horror mashup with effectively goopy Cronenberg-ian body horror, zero budget cenobites, underground gladiator fights, and a solidly charismatic performance from James Black. There is some primitive CGI that I find largely unfortunate, but the excellent physical effects, lighting, and camerawork more than make up for it in my book. I should note that it still feels like a rare treat to see SOV insanity on a big screen with an audience. My original exposure to Ozone and most of the genre has been a solitary pursuit and it's nice to be laughing and wincing with other weirdos.

Fucktoys (2025) - This was my first year attending the Twin Cities Film Festival as a badged press member (which was very gracious of the organizers) and I was fortunate to see a wide variety of films including some local premiers of films that are now very much in the major awards conversation. However, my favorite screening was for an independent first time feature that hasn't yet been seen by wider audiences. Annapurna Sriram wrote, directed, and stars in Fucktoys; a surreal journey/quasi-road trip movie that feels very much like a spiritual successor to John Waters or Gregg Araki. Stylistically impeccable with the bayous, motels, and strip clubs of Trashtown rendered in luminous 16mm photography. It features a host of fun set pieces as well as boasting a library of cinematic references. The cast is great: Sriram and co-star Sadie Scott look fantastic, have real chemistry, and are very funny while Damien Young as Robert nearly stole the whole movie for me. I'm not going to pretend that this is the strongest narrative I've seen; the actual plot beats are straightforward and Fucktoys is happy to meander on its journey. However, the cinematic traditions Sriram is pointing to also feature more than their fair share of digressions and cul-de-sacs. My hope is that Sriram's debut gets snapped up either with the right distribution deal or maybe a boutique physical edition so that it can find the audience I know it will have. Either way, I'm definitely interested in seeing what Sriram does next. This is exactly the kind of movie you hope to see at a film festival so I'm glad I took a shot with it.

Night of the Juggler (1980) - It's so incredible that this revered genre obscurity not only received a 4K restoration and was released on some fine physical media editions, but also played in cinemas all across the country this year. Juggler is everything you could hope for in an NYC crime film from this era: gritty location footage, viscerally kinetic action, instantly memorable character actors, and some solid undercurrents tackling gentrification and various tensions/interests afflicting the city at the time. Watching the 4K at home was a small revelation compared to the gnarly YouTube rip I'd seen before, but seeing in the theater with an audience was tremendous.  Someone give me the chance to host  Juggler paired with  Cops and Robbers for a "Cliff Gorman pulling off capers in Central Park" double header.

The Mystery of Chess Boxing (1979)/Shaolin vs. Lama (1983) - Once again the Twin Cities were graced with the presence of the mighty Dan Halsted (of The Hollywood Theatre) and he brought two absolutely smokin' kung-fu barnstormers on 35mm. I'm not sure what there's left to say about Chess Boxing, but I did my best to celebrate Joseph Kuo's no bullshit approach to martial arts filmmaking in a piece for Perisphere. Shaolin vs. Lama was new-to-me, but it delivered on weird characters, phenomenal fighting/training sequences, and one of the strangest finales I've seen in a kung-fu film. Most important to me, though, was seeing these with a hot, raucous audience. When those final frames of Chess Boxing hit and the crowd goes apeshit? That's pure movie magic.

The Silent Partner (1978) - In a last minute addition to the list (New Year's Eve!), I once again have to hand it to the Cult Film Collective for rolling out a lovely 16mm print of Daryl Duke's Canuxploitation Christmas Crime Classic. I haven't seen Partner for a few years and honestly it only improves upon rewatch. Knowing the general plot beats beforehand doesn't do anything to diminish the building tension as Elliott Gould's awkward but nervy bank teller battles wits with Christopher Plummer's icily menacing bank robber. I was also really impressed with how well the film seemed to hold up to the smaller 16mm aspect ratio; you miss some of that epic 70s Toronto landscape but holding tight on those marvelously expressive faces works for this kind of movie. I always feel terrible that Duke got the boot partway through the film because he refused to shoot the infamous aquarium scene. I love that bit and getting to witness a sold out crowd squirm during it was damn well worth the price of admission.

So that's it for 2025. It's hardly my worst year and yet I'm not sad seeing it go. As always, I'm so grateful to you for reading this or anything I've worked on and I wish you good health, a modicum of sanity, and great film watching in the coming year. See you at the movies!

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