Tag Archives: Bag of Lies

A Man Looking for Answers Finds EVIL in Tijuana Instead! “Cursed in Baja” reviewed! (Anchor Bay Entertainment / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

Jeff Daniel Phillips’s “Cursed in Baja” on Blu-ray!

Ex-narcotics cop Pierlli is now a formerly incarcerated, rehabilitated man after suffering a mental breakdown from discovering the love of his life dead during a drug-fueled, kidnapping ordeal that sent him spiraling rogue.  Listless under medication and dragging his feet through the motions of a low paying maintenance man and janitorial job, Pierlli is contacted by his lover’s wealthy, depressed and dying parents to investigate and track down the disappearance of their grandson.  Reluctant to fall back into psychological swirl of pandemonium, he agrees to the case that leads him to Mexico despite the grandfather’s warnings of unsavory unlawful dealings with criminals .  After a few interviews with the grandson’s known associates, gathered by previous detectives who have since disappeared, he’s able to locate the now young man, living in cohabitation with a peculiar pair of outlying summoners who sacrifice the unwelcomed to a native beast of the land, a vicious chupacabra.

Out from under the cinematic and musical thumb the Rob Zombie rockabilly show, Jeff Daniel Phillips emerges with a project his shocking rocking collaborator and friend is not attached to in any way, shape, or form.  “Curse in Baja” is Phillips’s sophomore feature-length film in over a decade since the 2009 jailhouse thriller “Convict,” starring Kevin Durand, and too like his debut film, Phillips also provides the screenplay for the 2024 film that’s described as crime noir meets surrealist horror from Los Angeles to Tijuana.  “Curse in Baja” is a Camp Lee and Indigo Vision production with Kent Isaacs coproducing with Phillips as well as having a role and the revitalized Anchor Bay Entertainment execs Brian Katz and Thomas Zambeck supplying financials in support to release the movie on home video, co-presented with Traverse Terror, a company we’ve seen light of recently and covered films with “Bag of Lies” being the most recent.

Phillips not only produces, writes, and directs, he also stars as the troubled Pierlli, opening up his introduction in a non-linear fashion under a character self-describing, self-loathing voiceover narration revolving around the woman he fell for, hinting at her forlorn fate, his own transgressions stemmed for lost, and how belittled his once formidable self has become after being released from prison.  Inner monologuing picks up here-and-there where narrative leaves off in a quasi-glint of personal elucidation about the characters and situations he finds himself amid, troubleshooting his own inners demons that could destroy him if he goes down the rabbit hole of grief again.  Yet, besides Pierlli’s vague thoughts and descriptions, characters brought not the fold have a prefabrication establishment that’s already patched them into narrative blanket and, for audiences, understanding these characters and see where they piece into the noir pie becomes very dense and chewy, tough to work out their role because much of the backstory is loaded into the chamber before viewers can digest everything mentioned in Pierlli’s opening narration of elongated events.  Jim Storm (“Trilogy of Terror”) and Constance Forslund (John Carpenter’s “Village of the Damned”) are tragic-saturated grandparents who will do anything to find their grandson, but their subtle persona richness filled with terminal illness, alcoholism, grief stricken, and a sordid past is greatly deprecated by little involvement in the rest of the story and their unexplained bad history in the network of how things came to be how they are now.  Instead, their retained lawyer (Mark Fite) has more skin and dialogue in the game of tracking down the grandson, played by the front man Finnegan Seeker Bell of alternative rock band Love Ghost in another character that’s spotty being sensical.  Kent Isaacs as a chupacabra keeper, Jacqueline Wright as a dancing evoker of the beast, Jacely Fuentes as a double dipping girlfriend, and Jose Conejo Martin as a Mexican music mogul and hardcore gangster, too, had shapelessness around defining themselves in character to serve what is a fever dream of past guilt and present lore clashing into a surreal tailspin from Pierlli’s visceral viewpoint.  The only character I could truly make sense and understand is “Re-Animator’s” Barbara Crampton’s short-stint warden role. 

I get “Cursed in Baja” is an indie production with nearly a zero-dollar budget and limited, on-hand advantages.  I get Jeff Daniel Phillips has a knack for the obscure, the off-putting, and the odd.  I get horror is subjective and you make what you get out of it.  With all that being said, “Cursed in Baja” doesn’t speak to me on a level I can fully appreciate, understand, or decipher through the opaque narrative stuck in its own adrift design.  Aspects of the nonlinear course and often repeating multiple same scenes doesn’t beat one down into following along but there’s also a rhythm that does denote Pierlli’s neurosis.  Though chaotic at times, Marc Cohen’s editing captures Pierlli’s agitational anarchy that plagues his nightmares and splits his reality seemingly down the middle of an already drug-and-crime fuel Mexicali affair the ex-con and lawman tries desperate not to repeat, but like any good sage person will tell you, we’re all given the opportunity to repeat dooming ourselves and relive past mistakes.  That’s Pierlli’s Pandora’x box and his Achillies heel, no matter how much he attempts to deflect himself out of the physically crippling investigation, he must sally forth again to find answers for the love he let down.  If he doesn’t, that do-nothing stagnation will ultimately destroy him faster.  I’m sure there are merits to Phillips’ first feature in over a decade, but “Curse in Baja” is all over the place, missing key interlocking points of the nomadic concepts to cement better coherency when switching gears between genres.

Anchor Bay’s third film of the first three releases released by the revitalized company by Brian Katz and Thomas Zambeck, “Cursed in Baja” receives exclusive at-home video rights with an AVC encoded, high-definition 1080p, BD25. The single layer is all this story requires with low-impact, mostly psychological thriller that relies heavily on Marc Cahon’s overlapping fade in-fade out and rough-cut, around-again editing to shoulder the burden of entertaining with Pierlli’s meandering mental melancholy. The compressed image quality provides no qualms for a standard, under-bedazzled indie production in widescreen 1.78:1 aspect ratio. Color saturation varies depending on toggling contrast levels, likely a result of the when-we-can shoot scenes methodology of low budget films. Blacks are not as deep as desired but there’s no signs of artefacts in the void and that suppresses any of kind of resentment toward a lighter shade of the grayscales darker side. The audio comes with an English Dolby Digital 5.1 surround mix. Though lossy, the format retains consistency in a rather heavily vague gumshoe of exposition with not too much crime centric and chupacabra chomping bytes to make or break the fidelity. Dialogue is clean in voiceover as well as in-scene with a favorable soundscape under Vaaal’s eclectic clouded haunt of industrial and discordant string. English subtitles are optional. Special features are limited to feature length commentary by Jeff Daniel Phillips and a making-of featurette with Phillips walking through a shooting location and discussing his ventured process. The Amaray case sports a grindhouse cover art character compilation with no other physical attributes included. The 80-minute, unrated feature is encoded with region free playback.

Last Rites: Jeff Daniel Phillips’s personal stick-and-glue “Cursed in Baja” works to a point off of the auteur’s ambition and who’s in his back pocket network of talented friends eager to lend their niche or locations to create noir delirium a la mode.

Jeff Daniel Phillips’s “Cursed in Baja” on Blu-ray!

There’s No EVIL Magic Cure for the Inevitable. “Bag of Lies” reviewed! (Dread / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

See What’s in the Bag! “Bag of Lies” on Blu-ray!

When everything seems to be going Matt and Claire’s way with a strong marital bond, a beautiful house, and rising careers, life throws them a nasty curveball – Claire is hit with inoperable, terminal cancer. Laid up in bed, her weak immune system and fleeting strength are spent on retching up the remains of the chemotherapy treatments she suddenly quits. Matt, under a considerable amount of pressure in losing his wife, has tried everything from conventional medical treatment to the snake oil practices of holistic cults. Desperate for a cure, Matt turns to a man and his bag. Not just any bag, but a bag given the right ritual and stated purpose will produce all that Mark desires and, in this case, the return of his wife’s good health. The man warns that rules must be followed and when Matt can’t uphold his end of the agreement, what he wishes for will still come true in a way most unpleasant.

“Bag of Lies” is the 2024 released supernatural thriller to boldly state that no matter whatever miracle cure is trialed or desperate attempted, one can’t stop the juggernaut of grim inevitability, and if somehow, someway one beats the momentous odds, nothing will ever be the same again or, perhaps, it will be worse.  Debuting his first feature, David Andrew James is the mastermind behind the screen treatment of the story, directing and writing the shooting script based off a story by Nick Laughlin, known for his art and props on “Wrong Turn” remake and “Bones and All,” and “Clever Girl” creator Joe Zappa that tackles one of the more painfully enduring occurrences of impending loss, the slow and excruciating rot of cancer that selfishly takes everything and all anyone, especially loved ones, can do is sit and watch the wasting away from internal consumption of being.  “Bag of Lies” is another Dread Presents and Traverse Terror collaboration, produced by Dread and Epic Picture’s Patrick Ewald and Matt Cleckner alongside Spencer Frazen, Joe Hui, Victoria McDevitt, Jake Heineke, and director David Andrew James.

One of the problems “Bag of Lies” has lies with the married couple Matt and Claire Quimby, played respectively by Patrick Taft and Brandi Botkin (“Bystanders,” “Wicked Ones”).  The problem is not chemistry as the affectionate teasing and relationship frustrations are the hallmarks done right to reflect any kind of amorous partnership on screen and the fact that Taft and Botkin have previously collaborated also makes establishing an already established couple a lot easier but the latter has been under different roles and conditions with Taft producing projects, such as “Wicked Ones,” and both also having roles in the same television series entitled “Wildfire” but overlapping only once in their own three episodes span.  The problem falls upon how their characters got to be where they are now and that creates an injustice to that particular unpleasant side of the story because the audience never experiences the good times the Quimby’s once had before cancer strikes at Claire, not even in a remote sense, and that ultimately fails them because its hard to fall long and hard if not privy to the height of their good fortune.  The lack of backstory extends to the supporting cast with Matt’s awfully empathetic cousin Harold (John Wells, “The Possessed”) who hangs around, brings over a 6-pack, and occasion reworks their basement to surprise Claire with an in-house music studio, more so the former two, and the mysterious man Al (Terry Tacontins) who offers or is sought out or is just happened upon, it’s unclear, the even more mysterious bag option to Matt with a vague understanding of instructions or the cost of what he’s about to unleash or sacrifice or both.  These supporting characters lack of reason for being a cog in the bigger machine seems happenstance rather than necessary to the progression or the problem in what evolves into more of a three-way triangle between Matt, Claire, and an unusual young woman sneaking into their house and property and has a quirky laugh and a dark circle on her palm, played by Madison Pullins (“Baby Oopsie: The Series”).  Aja Nicole and a Kayla Theis round out the cast as Matt’s doctor friend Gwen and local bartender Lilly who has loved one ailment issues that parallel to Matt.

The title “Bag of Lies” is a spin on the idiom a pack of lies, defined as a grouping of false statements or information led to deceit.  “Bag of Lies” plays and preys upon that deception of an all-in-one, quick-and-easy remedy aimed to be a cure-all when, in reality, the thing to solve all your problems is nothing but snake oil that builds hope out of desperation, that sees confidence stemmed from false promise, and instills blindness to the consequences it delivers.  David Andrew James favors suspending in disbelief more than what’s comfortable as Matt experiences haunting visions of ominous means to an end yet doesn’t seem too bothered to really dig into the background and so the story flounders in the second act with Matt just experience weird and frightening sights and sounds without even an attempt to explain, until near the end.  Frankly, if I kept seeing a quirky, quizzical madwoman constantly around and inside my house, the cops would be on speed dial.  Instead, Matt lets himself be silage for the taking, cut off from the rest of reality for the most part without ever going to the authorities, without ever confiding in his friends, nor without ever digesting his experiences and talking about it with his wife, who is usually part of the strange visional equation.  That isolation plays into the burdening effect of trying to beat the odds by doing it yourself and not asking for help, which is definitely being depicted here in Matt’s own surreal nightmare, but the lackadaisical effort and having one peculiar instance roll over him after another breaks down the story’s credibility.  Much like the cancerous rot that’s eating his wife from in the inside out, Matt’s own rot origins from being stagnant and it’s that do-nothing that bears the consequences of terrifying transfigurations in not only his sweet Claire but also in himself. 

“Invasion of the Body Snatchers” interlocked with desperation and a melancholic longing is how the “Bag of Lies” shapes fictional hope around a wrenched inevitability, similar to what the French author Guy de Maupassant once said,, “ the only certainty is death.”  Dread and Epic Pictures brings home an unrated, AVC encoded, 1080p high definition, BD25. Presented in a widescreen 2.40:1 aspect ratio.  Brandt Hackney’s shadowy cinematographer has a fairly nature presence in natural daylight sequences but utilizes a quite a bit of low-level, low-frequency lighting to create a soft incandescence and low-contrast shadows spreads.  Much of the same textures and colors are shown over and over and without that breadth of diversity, comparing scene-by-scene details are more than slim but what’s apparent is subordinate to the atmospheric lighting, or lack thereof, to create moody, broody dark house settings with little light to expose detail and color.  Even in bar sequences, the dimness doesn’t allow detail.  The English audio offerings are a Dolby Digital 5.1 and a Dolby Digital 2.0 Stereo. What’s uniquely about the “Bag of Lies” audio facet is the distinct distortional soundtrack by James Paul Bailey who, in his own words, could never recreate or repeat the score again because of the randomized tones and feedback produces by temperamental distortion boxes, overlayed and modulated to produce a one-of-a-kind soundtrack to parallel the rotting horror “Bag of Lies” corkscrews into. Dialogue does the job with a clean and clear rendering by an indifferently satisfying sort of humdrum performances unfazed by the surrounding sideshow of black bag magic and the curious curiosity that’s emerging vocally from within its capacity. There’s decent localized range within Quimby house with conversating interactions with a door or a vent in between, using post-production to fill in hurling diatribes from the basement below toward Matt in Claire’s voice. English and Spanish subtitles are optionally available. Special features include a brief behind-the-scenes featurette with cast interviews voicing their deconstructing opinions about the story. Though not listed on the back cover, there is a longer, more in-depth featurette around James Paul Bailey’s distortion oeuvre for the film that’s quite comprehensive, plus the film’s trailer and other Dread Presents film trailers. Physical features are just like all the other bare minimum Dread-Epic Pictures release with a standard Blu-ray Amaray and no inserts. The cover illustration has clunky written all over it with a photoshop job of what looks like a giant dirty taco, but it’s the titular bag, with a dirty disfigured hand reaching up and out. The release has a region A playback and has a runtime of 96 minutes.

Last Rites: Neither great nor is it terrible, “Bag of Lies” skips a few key steps toward being a promising indie horror and though the theme is poignant, fantastical, and infused with a jarring soundtrack, the ironic inevitability is there is no cure for what can’t be fixed.

See What’s in the Bag! “Bag of Lies” on Blu-ray!