Classic Review #45: Taxi Driver

Taxi Driver was such an important film to me during my formative years that I’ve never found the courage to write about it critically, presumably out of fear that my words will fail to do Martin Scorsese’s 1978 masterpiece justice. However, it’s been a few years since I last watched the film, and it would seem the passing of time has allayed that trepidation and, more interestingly, prompted me to re-evaluate my position on it.

I could never quite understand what it was about Paul Schrader’s screenplay, and in particular the character of Travis Bickle (Robert De Niro), that I found alluring. On face value, the profound loneliness of the protagonist is probably what I found relatable, especially during my teenage years. However, the sinister path that Bickle’s isolation leads him down is thankfully not a trajectory I could ever empathise with and is something that, when considered in the context of Western society’s burgeoning incel problem, is actually one of many problematic themes within this picture.

Viewers that are familiar with Schrader’s other work (both as a writer and director) will be aware of his penchant for bleak, overtly masculine stories, but Taxi Driver remains an especially discomforting watch. This is not only because of Bickle’s slow-burning psychological degradation (resulting in the film’s violent crescendo) but also the depiction of the film’s black and female characters which, although most likely true to its time, makes for an unsettling case study in othering which does not always feel entirely necessary.

Nonetheless, it’s impossible to contest the notion that, with the exception of Raging Bull, Taxi Driver remains the apex of De Niro and Scorsese’s fabled partnership, with both at the peak of their powers. Considering that the picture was shot on a meagre budget of $1.9m, this could be considered the greatest creative triumph of the latter’s storied career, while the performance of the former certainly ranks as one of his finest. Accompanied by a fittingly bipolar score from the late Bernard Hermann, De Niro and Scorsese deliver one of the most insularly gripping thrillers in cinematic history, one that perfectly encapsulates the perils of living with untreated trauma.

While I can’t honestly say that my love for Taxi Driver is as fierce as it once was, it’s an undeniable triumph for all involved that remains as unsettling today as it ever was.

Elemental

Available in selected cinemas and on Disney+

As pointed out by Mark Kermode on his and Simon Mayo’s excellent podcast, Kermode & Mayo’s Take, there are two ways of analysing the merits of Elemental. On one hand, it is arguably one of the weakest films Pixar have produced in recent years, with neither its animation or screenplay coming close to matching the studio’s best work.

Set in Element City, where anthropomorphic elements coexist, the film is centred on a budding romance between Ember (Leah Lewis) and Wade (Mamoudou Athie), which defies their assumed incompatibility (one is made of the fire, the other of water) while drawing the ire of the former’s traditionalist parents. While the motif behind this opposites attract story ensures Elemental has more than its fair share of tender moments, the concept is far too familiar to truly pull at the heartstrings of anybody other than the most sentimental of viewers.

Nonetheless, when one considers the origins of Sohn’s picture and the lengthy process that was required to bring it to the silver screen, it does leave you more inclined to consider the merits of Elemental. Sohn has delivered some truly beautiful interviews which explain that the screenplay was inspired by his own experiences growing up as the son of Korean immigrants in 1970s New York City, and that his film was intended as a tribute to his parents, who both sadly passed away during its making.

Understanding this definitely re-shapes one’s initial reading, with the aforementioned Element City easier to view as a celebration of the cultural and ethnic diversity of NYC, and Ember’s parents (voiced brilliantly by Ronnie del Carmen and Shila Ommi) assuming greater significance than they otherwise would have had. While this doesn’t go as far to make up for its shortcomings, it does make Elemental easier to appreciate.

Classic Review #44: Soul

Available on Disney+

Arguably Pixar’s last truly great film, Soul is a life-affirming experience that manages to be simultaneously daring in its reach (venturing as far as the astral plane) and incredibly simplistic in its messaging, with its primary motif being that life is precious and not to be wasted.

The film’s screenplay, co-written by Kemp Powers (One Night in Miami) and Mike Jones, follows a disillusioned middle school teacher (Jamie Foxx) who dreams of fulfilling his ‘life’s purpose’ of being a revered jazz musician, only for his dreams to be dashed by a fatal accident that leaves him in a coma. What follows is a quest to reunite his soul with his body whilst also mentoring a recalcitrant unborn soul (Tina Fey) in need of their ‘spark’.

As well as this ingenious premise, Soul is significant for being the first Pixar film to feature a black lead, a feat which is underpinned by affectionate cultural nods that were overseen by an internal ‘cultural trust’ composed of black Pixar employees, and musical sequences that were constructed from real-life sessions led by Jon Batiste.

Like director Pete Docter’s other triumphs (Monsters, Inc., Up, and Inside Out), Soul possesses that rare quality of being both entertaining and educational, and is an uplifting essay not on the meaning of life, but on its value.

My Big Fat Greek Wedding 3

In cinemas now

Despite the proclamations of dewy-eyed pop songs and far-fetched works of fiction, not everything in life is possible. And yet, every now and then, a film will come along that is so preposterously bad it dares you to believe that you really can achieve anything you put your mind to. My Big Fat Greek Wedding 3 is such a film.

To list the number of amateurish things in Nia Vardalos’ film would be an exercise in exhaustion, but some personal highlights for me include the opening montage, in which a selection of low-resolution stills from the preceding My Big Fat Greek Wedding films are displayed ad nauseam, despite the fact they look like something you’d ask Jeeves to find for you. Honourable mentions also ought to go to Vardalos' screenplay, the dialogue of which is bad enough to make Tommy Wiseau’s The Room read like a Chekovian masterpiece, and the acting from the film’s modest cast, which is more wide-eyed than Charlie Sheen when he was #WINNING.

Even more appalling is the film’s admittedly well-meaning attempts to cover challenging topics such as dementia, parental grief and, perhaps most bizarrely of all, the Syrian refugee crisis. God loves a trier, but a film in which we are repeatedly made to endure a middle-aged man trimming his nasal hair is not the time or place to get that deep.

Nonetheless, there was at least one person guffawing in my screen (though admittedly he may have been insane), challenging me to believe that dreams really can come true. Even on a meagre budget of $12.7 million, no film as bad as this should ever make it to screen but, against all odds, Vardalos and co. got it done. So who knows, maybe The Smiths really will reunite one day.

The Equalizer 3

In cinemas now

It can be hard to distinguish the myriad of action films that are helmed by ageing male actors, given the frequency with which they appear (and then quickly disappear) from multiplex billboards. After all, this is a mostly unadventurous genre that typically operates as a cynical cash grab for directors and leading men that are, more often than not, going through the motions.

It’s a relief then that the third and final instalment of Antoine Fuqua’s The Equalizer franchise (which I was admittedly unfamiliar with up until now) is more than the sum of its parts. While its narrative, written by Richard Wenk and loosely adapted from Michael Sloan and Richard Lindheim’s television series, is more than a little indulgent when it comes to genre tropes, its uber-violent action sequences and lush setting amongst the sea-soaked mountains of southern Italy make it a far more engaging watch than it otherwise might have been.

The MVP of The Equalizer 3 though is, of course, its star - the indomitable Denzel Washington. It is truly a joy to watch certain actors work, irrespective of the material they are delivering, and Washington is such a rare beast, a talent that can hold your attention with the slightest of gestures and one who delivers every line of dialogue with aplomb. His turn as Robert McCall, a retired but no less deadly assassin who decides to defend his newfound home from the Camorra, is undoubtedly what keeps this movie interesting.

Ordinarily, I’d tire of watching an aged hero find new and inventive ways to massacre his foes, but, put simply, nobody does it better than Denzel.

Classic Review #43: Tokyo Story

In selected cinemas now

Perhaps the most startling thing about Yasujirō Ozu’s undeniable masterpiece is that, 70 years on from its original release, it remains so relevant. The ordinariness of its premise - an ageing couple leave their home in the provinces to visit their children in Tokyo - makes Tokyo Story a parable that transcends the passing of time, its motif, of the importance of treasuring the time we have with our loved ones, being arguably more resonant than ever before.

Nonetheless, the understated naturalism of Ozu’s directorial style does mean that Tokyo Story, which runs for a little over two hours, can make for a challenging watch at times. With neither its director or co-writer, Kôgo Noda, inclined to accelerate events for the presumed benefit of their audience, the film is reliant on our ability to find a deeper meaning in the everyday rituals of its characters. While such calmness is at odds with many contemporary approaches to storytelling, it is all the more rewarding for viewers who are inclined to question events which could otherwise be misconstrued as being mundane.

With Yûharu Atsuta’s cinematography ensuring that Tokyo Story is an equally rich aesthetic experience, all the makings of an essential and, above all else, timeless classic are here.

Past Lives

In cinemas now

Much has been made of Past Lives, the tender and emotionally resonant debut from Celine Song, which is certainly a film that lingers long after its credits cease to roll. Greta Lee and Teo Yoo take centre stage as estranged childhood friends whose reunion causes both to consider the meaning of their lives, and whether they are fulfilling their intended purpose.

While Lee and Teo make for absorbing screen presences, Past Lives is mostly a declaration of Song’s considerable talents as a writer-director, with her original screenplay managing to simultaneously be both completely relatable and specific to Korean culture and, more specifically, the immigrant experience. With respect to the latter point, the film intriguingly evokes memories of other recent releases Return to Seoul and Joy Ride, as we observe the subtle ways in which Lee’s character is made to feel othered in her adopted home.

Indeed, ‘subtle’ is the word which perhaps best defines Past Live’s impact, with Song and her DP, Shabier Kirchner, creating a world which feels authentically lived-in, one in which the dialogue, events, and character’s appearances never stray from feeling true to life. In that sense, this is one of the year’s most defining films and a short essay on the human condition and the intrinsic, unseen connection between our past and current lives.

Kirchner’s gorgeous 35mm cinematography also makes for an aesthetically rich experience, with Christopher Bear and Daniel Rossen’s faint score serving as the perfect accompaniment. Despite being set within the confines of New York and Seoul - two of the planet’s most populous cities - this manages to be an incredibly contained story about two people and how the memories of their sweet childhood bond shape both their vision of the future and acceptance of the present.

Scrapper

Writer-Director Charlotte Regan makes her feature debut with Scrapper, a wonderful and expressive exploration of grief from the perspective of 12 year old Georgie (Lola Campbell) on an Essex housing estate. After the death of her mother (Olivia Brady), Georgie deceives social services into living on her own, maintaining a stable life by maintaining her home and stealing bikes with her friend, Ali (Alin Uzun). However, with the arrival of her long-absent father (Harris Dickinson), she is forced to readjust to life under parenthood.

It feels a little like the premise of a family comedy, and it is consistently funny - but it feels wrong to describe Scrapper in this way. The natural comedy of a 12 year old living on their own isn’t really the central “joke” as much as it is the film just having fun with its premise. Scrapper is, unequivocally, a drama, and takes its subject matter seriously, even if it doesn’t take itself completely seriously. Things border constantly on being fantastical, without ever going completely off the wall. Beyond the suspension of disbelief regarding the ways in which a child can rent and sustain a house in secret and on their own, Scrapper never strays too far from reality, and presents a fundamentally realist plot beneath its colourful veneer.

Stylistically, Scrapper combines classic British social realism with a subtle, charming whimsicality, and implements its style in a way that the realism and the fantasy never come into conflict. Despite its relative wackiness, to call it “magical realism” would probably be a misnomer, because at no point does the film stray from being grounded, treating both setting and subject matter with due reverence. Curiously, there is no contrast or dual style – the film derives from opposite aesthetics, and blends them into something singular and specific to the story being told. Essex becomes a dream world, an imaginary reflection of a real place, with real people appearing as they would in a dream – much like Georgie’s mother appears to her. It’s a remarkably unique representation of a child’s view of the world, portrayed almost as if the film is a sequence of childhood memories.

Scrapper is neither sickly sweet nor terribly horrific, nor does it lose itself in quirky visuals or dour reality – it finds a place in-between, and creates something unique and imaginative out of that. It’s a lovely approach, and one that has the potential to capture a broad audience as a playful, intimate watch. As a depiction of grief, it’s poignant; as a depiction of working class life, it’s wholly unique; as a film, it is absolutely worth consideration.

The Blackening

In cinemas now

This dark comedy, directed by Tim Story and written by Tracy Oliver and Dewayne Perkins, is a knowing takedown of racial stereotypes, specifically those often seen within horror films. Adapted from a short by the comedy troupe 3Peat, The Blackening is focused on a group of friends who rent an isolated woodland cabin as part of their Juneteenth celebrations, only for the weekend to take a sinister turn when they become embroiled in a murderous board game.

While it’s debatable whether it is as funny or as scary as its premise allows, The Blackening is a mostly original picture that successfully skewers the genre tropes its characters often make reference to, while also serving as a celebration of contemporary Black American culture. Indeed, any moments of unoriginality - such as the film’s more gross-out gags - feel intended in a vein not dissimilar to the Scary Movie franchise which, intentionally or otherwise, Oliver and Perkins’ screenplay frequently evokes memories of.

From the ensemble cast, it is Grace Byers and Perkins who shine brightest, with the latter definitely standing out as a talent worth keeping an eye on. Much of the film’s dialogue was improvised, and it’s definitely the chemistry between the lead cast which lends The Blackening much of its charm. While some viewers might find some of the gags a little too on the nose, most will find plenty to like about this acerbic flick.

Theatre Camp

In cinemas now

Molly Gordon and Nick Lieberman’s quaint directorial debut offers a tongue-in-cheek satire of the weird and wonderful world of musical theatre, specifically the avowed practitioners of it whose devotion is not reciprocated with critical or commercial success.

Gordon and Lieberman’s screenplay, co-written with Ben Platt and Noah Galvin, is focused on a collective of oddballs who work at a cheap and cheerful theatre camp that, despite its popularity, is at risk of foreclosure. For the most part, Theatre Camp serves as a celebration of people’s quirks and differences, due in no small part to the comedic work of a delightful ensemble cast (although the underuse of The Bear’s Ayo Edebiri is unforgivable) and its original soundtrack.

However, there are aspects of the film that do not work so well. For one, the ‘mockumentary’ style adopted by Gordon and Lieberman doesn’t entirely gel with the tone of Theatre Camp’s narrative, mostly because the film lacks a defined lead character. This makes for a mostly unaffecting, but fitfully entertaining, viewing experience, which is a shame because the high points are genuinely laugh-out-loud funny.

Some viewers will undoubtedly find plenty to love about Theatre Camp, but its hard to shake the notion that there is a better film within it somewhere.

You Hurt My Feelings

Available on Amazon Prime

Nicole Holofcener has forged a reputation for writing and directing the sort of everyday, overtly mature dramas that typically do not get bums on auditorium seats, at least not in the age of blockbuster/franchise filmmaking. Nonetheless, her authentic and worldly approach to storytelling is something that viewers can derive plenty from.

Her latest sees her reunite with the ever-dependable Julia Louis-Dreyfus, who was excellent opposite the late James Gandolfini in Holofcener’s 2013 sleeper hit Enough Said, who joins the equally brilliant Tobias Menzies in playing one half of a married couple whose supposed domestic bliss masks personal and professional unfulfillment.

When this union is rocked by a seemingly inconsequential act of betrayal, You Hurt My Feelings evolves into a parable on the virtue of honesty and, more specifically, the consequences that come with it being absent within a relationship. In that sense, it is a highly perceptive film that any (honest) couple will find relatable, although many (myself included) will find its narcissistic central characters more than a little out of touch.

While the authenticity of Holofcener’s stylings means that proceedings can meander into mundanity at times, the performances of Louis-Dreyfus and Menzies (as well as Michaela Watkins and Arian Moayed) and Jeffrey Waldron’s handsome depiction of NYC ensure this remains a rewarding watch for the most part.

Classic Review #42: Mean Girls

Mean Girls is one of my favourite movies of all time. Before I first watched it, I was expecting a middle-of-the-road comedy but, as the film went on, I found myself to be more and more surprised by it, to the point where I couldn’t turn away. And then Regina got hit by that bus and I realised I had a contender for my new all-time favourite.

Whilst the film isn’t shot or edited in an especially noteworthy way, Tina Fey’s screenplay is insanely strong. One thing I particularly love about it is that it has an edge that is often lacking from films like this. It also really shines in its ability to craft very genuine and three-dimensional characters. For example, Gretchen Weiners (Lacey Chabert) is arguably more developed than any of the leads. The scene where she gives the speech about Caesar will forever be one of the funniest scenes in the film.

On that note, the entire cast completely give it their all, with everyone playing up their parts to the maximum. I think that’s what’s made this film so relatable, even today. Weirdly enough, because everyone is so over-dramatic, they are more convincing as teenagers, despite the fact a lot of them were in their twenties at the time of filming.

Mean Girls still stands up as a timeless comedy and I think it’s real strength comes from the fact that it’s a perfect combination of the ridiculous and the real. Like I said before, it’s actually the more ridiculous stuff that makes it feel so real, because I think everybody can agree that everything was ridiculous when we were in school.

Medusa Deluxe

Available on Mubi now

Thomas Hardiman’s debut feature is impressively daring, with its unique premise (a whodunit set amidst a highly competitive hairdressing contest) and engrossing single shot approach distinguishing it from many of this year’s other independent releases.

Hardiman certainly benefits from the input of the prodigiously talented cinematographer Robbie Ryan, whose previous collaborators include Andrea Arnold, Ken Loach, and Yorgos Lanthimos (to name but a few). Together, they craft a compelling aesthetic which is befitting of the low-level glamour that is synonymous with the professional world in which Medusa Deluxe is set.

The film’s understated cast also do some stellar work over the course of the film’s modest run-time, with Clare Perkins particularly standing out in her role as possibly the world’s angriest hairdresser. Meanwhile, Koreless’ score - which oscillates between being pulsating and scarcely noticeable - is in keeping with the murder mystery that lies at the heart of the film’s events.

Alas, Hardiman’s self-penned screenplay struggles to build on the promise of its opening salvo, arguably suffering from a claustrophobic setting which limits its characters’ actions to a series of hushed and/or heated conversations. This is frustrating as Medusa Deluxe could most definitely be a greater film than it is, with its ending feeling mightily underwhelming and out-of-sorts with the events which precede it.

Nonetheless, there is plenty of promise in Hardiman’s debut, enough to suggest that his future work is worth keeping an eye out for.

The Meg 2: The Trench

In cinemas now

The Meg 2 is a curious film. First and foremost, it is directed by Ben Wheatley, a filmmaker who has built a reputation for unsettling independent cinema, not big-budget films about giant sharks. Unsurprisingly, none of the directorial flourishes that have made Wheatley such a critical darling are to be found in this garish sequel, making this one of the most curious creative pairings in recent memory.

As puzzling is the fact that The Meg 2 features a distinct lack of giant sharks, with the first and second act of its convoluted screenplay mostly being a dull tale of corporate espionage and environmental vandalism. Ordinarily, I’d applaud any attempt to add greater narrative depth to a cinematic franchise, but this is a misstep which undermines the selling point of the film’s 2018 predecessor.

Still, the madcap final half-hour - in which Jason Statham and his merry band of impossibly attractive scientists take on a trio of Megaldons and a giant prehistoric octopus - is enough to make The Meg 2 a reasonably enjoyable (if not completely empty-headed) blockbuster. Statham might be a limited actor, but his rugged machismo really works in this sort of fare, with Wu Jing, Page Kennedy, and Cliff Curtis also adding plenty of value in their supporting roles.

Classic Review #41: WALL-E

Available on Disney+

Andrew Stanton’s award-winning WALL-E, co-written with Jim Reardon, certainly remains one of the most curious Pixar films to date, largely due to the fact that it features minimal dialogue and incorporates a host of themes - chiefly consumerism and environmentalism - that would ordinarily be considered too polarising for an animated feature.

Indeed, Stanton’s picture is worthy of celebration because it is arguably demonstrative of the true scope of animation. In a similar vein to Inside Out and Up, WALL-E commentates on complex and emotive issues without defaulting on its primary function, which is to entertain. The love story that is at its heart, between the titular garbage-collecting robot and the technologically more advanced EVE, is rousing and strangely relatable, as it fundamentally appeals to our inner romantic.

There are also some excellently subtle references to influential genre bedfellows such as 2001 and Silent Running for keen-eyed viewers to enjoy, rounding this off as a thoroughly rewarding and pleasingly unconventional Pixar classic.

Classic Review #40: Guardians of the Galaxy

Available on Disney+

The first instalment of James Gunn’s Guardians of the Galaxy trilogy is as fine an example of good old fashioned comic book fun as you’re likely to get. It's essentially the cinematic equivalent of an E number, by which I mean it moves at the sort of frenetic pace you would expect a small child to after downing a bag of Skittles.

The film features some excellent turns from its cast, in particular Chris Pratt, who evokes memories of a young Harrison Ford in the lead role of Peter ‘Star Lord’ Quill, although he is ably supported by Zoe Saldana, Dave Bautista, Bradley Cooper, and Vin Diesel.

Guardians is somewhat flawed by its rather formulaic plot, with the villain of the piece, Ronan the Accuser (Lee Pace), being essentially just a blue (and less entertaining version) of Tom Hiddleston's Loki. This makes for a rather anticlimactic final act, although the amount of fun you have getting there means only the grouchiest of viewers would elect to gripe about it.

With a strong cast and an excellent soundtrack to boot, Guardians remains one of the most original and entertaining entrants to the never-ending MCU.

Classic Review #39: Inside Out

Available on Disney+

Pete Doctor and Ronald De Carmen's film continues to rank as one of the finest Pixar have commissioned to date, with Inside Out perfectly capturing the fragility and volatility felt by children as they approach their teenage years.

Its central characters are essential to the film's appeal, perfectly encapsulating the primary emotional states that human beings of all ages, shapes, and sizes experience. Amy Poehler revels in the lead role of Joy, the devoted guardian of protagonist Riley, exuding the dowdiness of her much loved Parks & Recreations character, Leslie Knope, while the strong stable of supporting actors also bring plenty of value to this animation.

Doctor and De Carmen’s directorial work is also certainly as arresting as many other Pixar releases; it's not often that the aesthetics of an animated feature come together as harmoniously with its story as is the case here, and Inside Out is all the more memorable for it.

Joy Ride

In cinemas now

This riotous directorial debut from Adele Lim, the writer of Crazy Rich Asians fame, works on a number of levels. Co-written by Lim, Cherry Chevapravatdumrong, and Teresa Hsiao, Joy Ride is a highly entertaining and heartwarming tale of friendship that provides a welcome platform for its four outstanding leads (Ashley Park, Sherry Cola, Stephanie Hsu, and Sabrina Wu).

In a manner not dissimilar to Bridesmaids, the film manages to blend explicit humour (emphasis on explicit) with motifs that are altogether more serious. With regards to the latter, perhaps the most interesting of these is the arc of Ashley Park’s character, an adopted Asian-American who decides to use a business trip to China (one that soon becomes very much a debauched girls’ trip) as an opportunity to find her biological parents. This quest evokes memories of altogether more serious works such as Return to Seoul, but never detracts from the undercurrent of fun that runs through Lim’s picture.

Above all else though, Joy Ride is a stellar reminder of the importance of representation in mainstream cinema. This is a comedy helmed by a predominantly Asian-American cast and writing team and, while it’s depressing that we still have to view these things as novelties in 2023, the importance of that cannot be understated. Park, Cola, Hsu, and Wu prove that they can be every bit as funny as their Caucasian contemporaries, serving up one of the year’s biggest laugh-out-loud moments while doing so.

Classic Film Review #38: Bridget Jones’ Diary

Available on Netflix now

While its notions about what should be considered as the ideal female body might not have aged all that well, Sharon Maguire’s much-loved adaptation of Helen Fielding’s iconic novel remains a hit. Resplendent with the sort of witticisms that we British deliver so well, Bridget Jones’ Diary features a performance from Renée Zellweger that is admirable not only for its comedic values but its sheer transformative power, one that continues to distinguish the titular Jones as a true British cultural icon.

The street fight between Colin Firth and Hugh Grant will forever rank as one of my all-time favourite scenes, though it is one of many memorable moments in a film that is undoubtedly a standout within the shallow pool of Noughties comedies. With a killer soundtrack to boot, Bridget Jones's Diary is most definitely a winner all round.

They Cloned Tyrone

Available on Netflix now

Juel Taylor’s feature-length debut, a genre-bending homage to the Blaxploitation films which came to prominence during the 1970s, marks the director out as one to watch, despite its narrative meandering to a slightly underwhelming conclusion.

This is due to the sleek aesthetic in which Taylor and cinematographer Ken Seng present the world in which the events of They Cloned Tyrone take place, which manages to feel both contemporary and vintage. Indeed, the film’s grainy picture quality can be inferred as a tip of the proverbial hat to the aforementioned cinematic subculture which so clearly influences both Taylor and co-writer Tony Rettenmaier’s story.

The picture is also supremely acted, with co-stars John Boyega, Jamie Foxx, and Teyonah Parris making for a powerful and entertaining trio. Boyega, following on from recent powerhouse performances in Detroit and Small Axe, continues to demonstrate a penchant for brooding, intense roles, while Foxx and Parris showcase their comedic chops as a pimp and sex worker who become embroiled in a dark government conspiracy.

These qualities, along with Desmond Murray and Pierre Charles’ bopping score, ensure They Cloned Tyrone always remains a sleek affair. Taylor and Rettenmaier’s writing is, however, uneven and the film definitely struggles to progress through its gears, with the habitual repetition of its narrative growing somewhat tiresome over its two-hour runtime. Through no fault of its own, the film also suffers from inevitable comparisons to similar but more well-rounded films such as Get Out and Sorry to Bother You.

Nonetheless, there is more to like than dislike about They Cloned Tyrone and Taylor is certainly a filmmaker keeping track of.