Queer BAFTA-nominated writer and southern water trash. You decide which part of that is more interesting.
A series of confused symbols, too much sympathy for the cops, and really superficial representations of both white supremscists and the complicated folks at the center of Black revolutionary thought.
It’s a movie made to lend comfort to white audiences that they’re not those kinds of racists.
After introducing a dialog about the impact of violence on victim and victimizer, Halloween (2018) runs out of things to say.
The kills are suitably 2018 brutal (one character complains that Meyers’ ‘78 rampage wasn’t all that worth getting worked up about, seemingly performing an end-run around modern viewers’ complaints). That’s pretty much all it’s got going for it, though.