Reserved Seating: Split (Spoiler Review)

by Rob DiCristino and Adam Riske

The review duo with twenty-three competing personalities, all of them the nation’s top film critics.

Adam: Welcome to Reserved Seating. I’m Adam Riske.

Rob: And I’m Rob DiCristino. Split is the new film from my hometown boy M. Night Shyamalan, fresh off his recent success with The Visit. It’s the story of Kevin Wendell Crumb (James McAvoy), a man with twenty-three personalities fighting each other for the limelight: Barry is a fashion designer. Dennis has OCD. Patricia is overbearing and matronly. Hedwig is nine years old and loves Kanye West. They exist in a jumbled cacophony that drives Kevin to kidnap high schoolers Marcia (Jessica Sula), Claire (Haley Lu Richardson), and Casey (Anya Taylor-Joy). While they try to bite and claw their way out of their basement prison, Crumb’s psychiatrist Dr. Fletcher (Betty Buckley) makes a horrifying discovery -- a twenty-fourth personality more dangerous than anything she’s ever seen.

Adam: In this early scene, we see Kevin, as Barry the fashion designer, visiting Dr. Fletcher but she’s not so sure which of Kevin’s personalities she’s dealing with.



Rob: Split is a fun enough concept that runs out of steam about an hour in.

Adam: I don’t even know if it makes it an hour. Those scenes between McAvoy and Betty Buckley are dead weight. And there are a lot of them.

Rob: And I kept waiting for a single one of them to matter. There’s no doubt that McAvoy earns his money with a fun cocktail of performances, but Shyamalan’s attention drifts too far away from narrative and character for an effective or satisfying payoff that makes it all feel worth it.

Adam: McAvoy is a talented guy and he does what he can, but I don’t think the script does him any favors. It’s a character that’s not written very well; the various personalities feel like caricatures an improviser would create at a comedy show. There’s no depth there. At the end, he’s just saying things that sound crazy for the sake of saying things that sound crazy. It doesn’t inform anything and it just makes the whole picture drag.

Rob: Exactly. It’s a series of impressions rather than fully-drawn characters.

Adam: I liked when he would say “Etc.,” but if I’m cherry picking that moment we’re in real trouble.

Rob: One of them exists solely to accidentally show Casey where some keys are! It’s obnoxious. Maybe my biggest issue, though, is that the final act meanders too long on foregone conclusions before pivoting into a ridiculous bit of fan service that had me shouting at the screen.

Adam: We’ll get to that. And don’t shout at the screen, Rob. At best it annoys the other people in the theater and at worst you’re being hyperbolic and none of that really happened.

Rob: Last spoiler warning, everyone!

Adam: They know it’s a spoiler review, Rob.

Rob: Anyway, I’m glad that Shyamalan has moved away from mainstream blockbusters and into smaller genre fare (where he belongs), but I’m still waiting for an idea as cohesive and engaging as his first three films.

Adam: What’s with the “where he belongs?”

Rob: I think the second phase of his career faltered largely because he was a genre director being pushed (by Hollywood or his own ego) into angling toward blockbusters. It feels like the pressure is off of him now, which makes me happy.

Adam: I’ve been an apologist for the guy more than most, based mostly on his run from 1999 to 2002, but the degree of cynicism and ugliness that comes with Split makes me wonder how much longer I want to stick with this guy. Let’s talk about the twist.

Rob: As you wish.

Adam: I like that first Wishmaster picture.

Rob: With all due respect to Unbreakable and its fans (who I know are legion), I hated the end of this film. The David Dunn cameo is a cop out, a sneaky way around an actual ending. The Beast’s decision to spare Casey because she’s as damaged as he is rings false and unearned; we spent a long time rooting for her so that she can do all of nothing to save the day. The final intersection of their two storylines is clunky and dull. It’s worth noting that I have the same issue with Unbreakable, a film that tells us all about a very cool final battle that it never shows us. I get that both films are meant to be origin stories. But, you know what? So is Iron Man. That movie has an ending.

Adam: I really like Unbreakable and didn’t have a final battle problem with that movie because I think it resolves its themes and a final fight or something wouldn’t have added anything. But saying all that, as a fan of Unbreakable I couldn’t have hated the ending of Split any more than I do. Let me explain why. There are four reasons. You ready?

Rob: I was born ready, Timmy.

Adam: My name’s not Timmy, Rob. I’m Adam. Or Riske. Or Mr. Riske. Or Mr. Adam Riske. Or Butch. Or Butchie. Or Butchie Boy. It’s not Timmy.

1. The way the ending is executed is terrible. The Unbreakable score is cued in the last scene with McAvoy. That’s fine. But then we cut to a diner where the news have to give McAvoy a villain name, “The Horde,” which is dumb. Then if people still don’t get it, we have an extra saying “Wasn’t there a supervillain that got locked up 15 years ago?” If you still don’t get it they continue “What was his name?” “Mr. Glass” answers Bruce Willis AND IF WE STILL DON’T GET IT he’s wearing a shirt with a name-tag revealing that he’s the same guy from Unbreakable. It’s so idiotic. Why not just show David Dunn then driving away from the diner and we see a sign for Amity Island. THEN OMG! IT’S IN THE JAWS UNIVERSE, TOO????!!!!

2. I didn’t like Split already before the Unbreakable shared universe reveal, so now that it’s tied to Unbreakable my enthusiasm for the earlier film is diminished because I have to associate it with something I don’t like. Unbreakable is about something. Split is about nothing other than franchise-building.

3. Shyamalan is basically telling us he wasted an entire movie in service of delivering a twist. He could have removed all of the therapy stuff and just told a David Dunn story in parallel with Bruce Willis and James McAvoy intersecting in the climax. If you introduced David Dunn and revealed this is an Unbreakable sequel it would have still been a huge twist (just one revealed in the middle) and been a complete movie. As it stands now, we have to wait another entire movie to tell the story Split should have told.

4. I don’t want to see an Unbreakable sequel, particularly one with a 2017 Bruce Willis, who only projects laziness and contempt on-screen these days. In 2000, he was still a guy I can root for, but 17 years later he’s completely become his unappealing public persona on-screen.

The ending of Split is a miscalculation of such a huge degree. It point blank tells the audience all that matters is shared universe building when the movie was sold as a standalone thriller without some sort of tie-in. It’s about as cynical as you can get. The movie is a clickbait article, not a story.

Rob: I couldn’t agree more. The entire thing boils down to a smug wink at the audience that made me want to rip my theater seat from the floor and throw it at the screen.

Adam: You’re not CrossFit enough for that.

Rob: I’ll never be CrossFit enough for you. Anyway, there’s been a bit of hubbub about the way Split portrays mental illness. Should we get into that?

Adam: Go ahead. I’m going to pee a little and really fast. Save my seat.

Rob: Personally, I don’t see the film as offensive to those suffering from DID (though, as a neurotypical, I might not deserve an opinion). Much like The Silence of the Lambs or A Beautiful Mind, it’s using the illness as a piece to fuel a larger character arc. Split mostly succeeds in that, I think, but it does the same character work in two hours that many superhero films do in ten minutes. Casey’s flashbacks have the same problem -- they take up way too much time for what they end up accomplishing narratively.

Adam: I found the movie much more offensive in its treatment of the Anya Taylor-Joy character than for those suffering from psychological illness. Shyamalan puts her through the ringer with her kidnapping, explains in disgusting backstory that she’s living with her sexual predator uncle and then leaves her at the end of the movie still in the care of the sexual predator uncle. I’ve heard a couple of theories saying she might tell the police woman about her uncle (which the movie doesn’t support, it’s too busy getting its kicks off the final twist) or that it sets up her as being a “super” like David Dunn and they’re going to join forces to which I say “good luck to you, because that’s too dumb for me to even comprehend.” Shyamalan uses the “flashback tragedy to inform a reserve of strength when dealing with a big bad” thing he did in Signs here in Split to a much less impactful effect. The way he exploits this girl and her history of sexual and physical abuse for the purpose of thriller mechanics offended me. You can’t introduce material like that with such insensitivity.

Rob: And with absolutely no payoff! Fan theories aside, the actual text of the film doesn’t at all imply that she’s going to do anything about anything. Kevin leaves her in the cage, the staffer finds her, and she gets in the cop car. Fade out. There’s ominous music and a thousand-yard stare. This isn’t some complex tone poem I’m too dense to understand. This is poor storytelling and a firm Mark Off for me. It’s actually the first film I’ve seen in a while that left me physically angry at the end.

Adam: Split is a big Mark Off for me too. It’s a garbage picture.

Next week Rob and I pay homage to the late Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert with a special Oscar show based on their classic “If We Picked the Winners” episodes. Join us then for our special episode - “If We Decided Who Won.”

Rob: Until next time…

Adam: These seats are reserved.

Reserved Seating: Live by Night

by Rob DiCristino and Adam Riske

The review duo that sleeps by day and CrossFits by night!

Adam: Welcome to "Reserved Seating." I’m Adam Riske.

Rob: And I’m Rob DiCristino.

Adam: Live by Night is the fourth directorial effort from the multi-talented Ben Affleck and his second adaptation of a Dennis Lehane novel.

Rob: It tells the story of Joe Coughlin (Affleck), a Prohibition-era (era) stick-up man caught between warring mafia families in Boston. After running afoul of Irish boss Albert White (Robert Glenister), Coughlin renounces his vow of neutrality and joins up with rival Italian boss Maso Pescatore (Remo Girone), who sends him and his partner Dion (Chris Messina) to supervise their rum smuggling operations in Florida. Coughlin then faces-off with corrupt cops, the KKK, and an assortment of other threats vying to bring him down.

Adam: In this clip (), Affleck and Messina discuss partnership terms with a Cuban faction in Tampa, which includes Zoe Saldana, who later develops to be a new love interest for our lead. Live by Night has a lot of scenes like this one of people talking while Ben Affleck seems like he is either just waking up or falling asleep.



Rob: I like this scene. It makes it seem as though Live by Night has real interpersonal conflicts and dramatic stakes. It’s one of two or three in the whole film.

Adam: For a movie with so many characters, there is very little development to any of them. The movie starts out somewhat disappointingly based on Affleck’s previous directorial efforts (Gone Baby Gone, The Town, Argo), but at a certain point Live By Night became clearer to me and I found myself enjoying it for what it is - a trashy gangster movie like Mobsters or Hoodlum. The trouble is that my expectations were initially set higher because of Affleck’s previous directing pedigree. I had a lot of fun watching Live by Night, maybe even more the nuttier it got. It feels almost like an entirely different film in each and every scene. By the time Chris Cooper is shooting two guns and screaming “Repent! Repent!” like a 10th billed actor in a Wild West show, I was laughing out loud and having a pretty great time. I can’t say Live by Night is a success, but I may have enjoyed this movie more than anyone else on Earth.

Rob: Well, here it is. Our first fight. You absolutely enjoyed Live by Night more than I did. It’s a tonal disaster, like you said. A big, sprawling gangster epic has to have a strong handle on who these characters are, what they’re doing, and why we should care. This film was frankly just grating and boring, and I say that as a lifelong Affleck apologist. I really think he missed the mark on this one.

Adam: I don’t know if we’re going to have as big of a fight as you think because I don’t disagree with any of what you said, except for maybe that it’s boring. I did have a beer and some boneless buffalo wings before the movie, so maybe that factored into my enjoyment of Live by Night. Did you find it distracting that Ben Affleck was so damn wide that he looked like he barely fit on-screen? Talk about period-inappropriate. He looked like CrossFit Corleone.

Rob: Now that you mention it, my experience may have been ruined by the couple in my theater who were talking literally at full volume the entire film. It made it really hard to focus on whatever the hell Brendan Gleeson was saying half the time. As for Affleck, I honestly think he miscast himself in this role. He’s a forty-year-old man built to smash people with toilet seats and yet I’m supposed to relate to him as the scrappy upstart? It would have been nice to have seen his character built up through some backstory involving the war or a few more bits with the Brendan Gleeson character. There’s this thematic interest in “changing who you are” that might have been nicely served there.

Adam: Every interaction Gleeson has with Affleck in the movie is basically “You’re a garbage person but I’m not going to do anything about it. See you Sunday!”

Rob: How about that dinner scene where he tells Sienna Miller, “If my son likes you, you must be horrible!” Thanks, Dad!

Adam: I want to get back to what you said about Affleck being miscast. Absolutely! We are led to assume he’s deceitful and cunning, but every scene is him playing it in the same flat note. It’s like he succeeded in Tampa because he was too dull to notice. Maybe Affleck bit off more than he could chew by producing-writing-directing and starring in Live by Night. I’ll say this, though: I’d take all of this, whatever this is, over his other garbage picture The Accountant from last year.

Rob: You know that isn’t fair. The Accountant has Anna Kendrick, so I’m beholden to it. Anyway, yeah, Affleck definitely seems overwhelmed here. Again, the classic gangster formula: You’ve got all these moving parts and fun characters, but they never intersect or affect each other to create meaningful change in the people involved. Without getting into spoilers, this film could have used fewer female characters whose mandates were “stand around,” and more with something to actually do. I liked Chris Cooper and Elle Fanning a lot, but they barely had any scenes together. And we never get to see what actually changes Affleck’s character because all we know about him is that he’s built like a brick shithouse, he’s very sleepy, and he loves him some Zoe Saldana. I couldn’t understand him, so I couldn’t understand the film. Anyway, what did you think of the whole KKK subplot? That scene in the cigar factory with the Grand Wizard guy was my one moment of joy in the whole picture. We should have had a lot more fun with that thread.

Adam: I didn’t have a problem with it. They’re portrayed as detestable and a lot of them get killed. I was satisfied.

Rob: “A lot of people got killed...I was satisfied.” -- Adam Riske, F This Movie!

Adam: You bet I was. Also, don’t misquote me…some of the words were wrong. Slap your hand with the ruler I gave you.

Rob: Speaking of slapping, the whole Elle Fanning subplot with the religion stuff is a perfect example of how Affleck’s development of his own character really fails. Like at the coffee shop: she’s sharing all these deep existential feelings that are supposed to pivot his character or introduce something new, but it’s hard to tell at any given time what particular conflict he’s feeling pressure from because he refuses to emote or, you know, say and do things. I had no idea where his head was at or what I was supposed to feel.

Adam: He’s sleepy from CrossFit.

Rob: Those giant tires on chains aren’t going to pull themselves.

Adam: So you’re voting Mark Off?

Rob: My love for Ben Affleck is secondary to my responsibility to the public, Adam. Mark Off.

Adam: Every part of me says “vote Mark Off.” To hell with it. “Mark Ahn” for Live by Night. It’s not one of my favorite Ben Affleck roles or movies, but I admire the guy and I’m more with this one than not.

Rob: That’s the spirit. Live free or die hard, dammit.

Adam: I loved that in the last 10 minutes of Live by Night it could have ended on any scene and it would have made just as much thematic sense as any other.

Rob: But we needed to pay off that subplot with his brother that was apparently happening in the movie! And the chess board because symbolism! Maybe he was just so sleepy he didn’t realize he left all that in. Because of all the CrossFit. Alright, I’ll stop.

Adam: Join us next week as I try to get my critical bearings back and we review Split, the latest thriller from M. Night Shyamalan starring James McAvoy.

Rob: I’m still never sure if it’s cool to like M. Night Shyamalan again or not.

Adam: He’s made some bad movies but also some great ones. We should give him the benefit of the doubt. Until next time…

Rob: These seats are reserved.

Reserved Seating with Rob and Adam: Silence

by Rob DiCristino and Adam Riske

The review duo that puts your faith…back in film criticism.

Rob: Welcome to Reserved Seating. I’m Rob DiCristino.

Adam: And I’m Adam Riske. I’ll just get it out of the way: Silence is great.

Rob: Based on the novel by Shūsaku Endō, it’s the story of two Jesuit priests (Andrew Garfield and Adam Driver) who smuggle their way into 17th century Japan in order to rescue their teacher (Liam Neeson)…

Adam: “Mentor” is more appropriate.

Rob: …who disappeared some years before. They discover a culture in which Catholics face daily and life-threatening persecution and find that their own faith is not as firm as they once believed.

Adam: In this clip, Sebastião Rodrigues (Andrew Garfield) and Francisco Garupe (Adam Driver) are in hiding, unable to go out in daylight for fear of being discovered by Japan’s military dictators, who are apprehending all priests and their Christian followers. But the two priests grow restless and frustrated as they are unable to complete their mission of locating their mentor, Father Cristóvão Ferreira. Finally, they decide to go out into the open, if only briefly. This scene is a fine example of the sense of danger and fear that fills Scorsese’s latest.



Rob: It’s a frightening scene that’s representative of the film’s first act, which is encased almost entirely in fog and obscured by brush. It’s perfect symbolism that serves a number of functions.

Adam: I’m glad you mentioned that. The cinematography by Rodrigo Prieto perfectly captures the time and place that is later described in the film as a swamp where nothing can grow. It’s a country with an enormous disparity between the haves and the have-nots, with religion being just as much political and socioeconomic as it is about the tenets of Christianity or Buddhism. This movie made me think about religion more than I have in a very long time. It’s not just affirmation for a devout audience, but rather challenges their devotion on a human and philosophical level. Is your faith worth your own suffering? And more significantly, is it important enough for you to allow others suffer for it?

Rob: As both a lapsed Catholic and a huge Scorsese fan, I was completely at home in the world he was building here. Catholicism is so much about demonstrating your devotion through suffering, more or less apologizing for even having been born.

Adam: I’m Jewish and I’ve never done any of that.

Rob: Are you done? I’m talking.

Adam: Latkes with sour cream, never applesauce.

Rob: Silence challenges us to consider how much our faith is really rooted in ego, and how willing we are to put our lives in the hands of an intangible force that may not even be listening. What happens when we lose the moral superiority that our doctrine has endowed us with?

Adam: You’re 100 percent right about the topic of ego. I found it fascinating how both the Buddhists and the Christians thought they were the ones who were right, not surprisingly, but when the priests begin using words like they have the “truth” then you open up a whole other can of worms. While not sympathetic, necessarily (they do persecute the Christians with violence), the Japanese inquisitors do have a point: who are you to tell me I’m wrong? Why are you trying to take away my country’s identity? The Christian priests in the movie will listen to this dialogue but aren’t really hearing it. They are so steadfast in their belief that they are unbending, and so are the Japanese. Unintended or not, it struck me as a statement on today’s climate (more political than religion), where each side is so firmly in their position that trying to convince the other side is like talking to a brick wall.

Rob: Including Garfield’s character, Rodrigues. I loved that our protagonist was a giant dickhead half the time, that he was so committed to his ideology for the sake of ideology, not even evidence or real “truth.” There’s a moment when he tells one of the peasants that his faith gives him strength. The peasant says (I’m paraphrasing), “I have love. Is that the same as faith?” Rodrigues says, “Yes, I think it is.” It’s so much about how subjective and incidental our own experiences with religion are, which is ironic considering how hard and fast the ideology tends to be. Life and death are played with in such absolute terms, and the religious oppression at work is so heartbreaking that Rodrigues is constantly reassessing his commitment to his core beliefs.

Adam: It really is heartbreaking. By the end instead of thinking “why would Rodrigues ever suffer and makes others suffer as long as he does?” the film gives us a moment that makes it absolutely clear why this was such an ordeal for him. I wish I could talk more about it because it’s a masterstroke type of moment that the movie builds to.

Rob: I won’t spoil it either, but it’s the only acceptable payoff for nearly three hours of this kind of emotional torment. Like you said, the title became more and more resonant as things went on. Speaking of which, did you feel the length at all? I found that the film’s structure made it so that I didn’t. It has three very distinct acts, and I think that helped me avoid complacency.

Adam: It did feel long, but not in a negative way. A movie like this should be long and draining. I don’t think having this movie be two hours would have been enough. In, say, The Passion of the Christ, the abuse is physical and for the audience emotional, we get that quickly, but here it’s much more a psychological suffering and that takes time to draw out. I love movies like Silence, where you feel like you’ve been through an experience of great strain. If any cuts could be made, I think they would be of Adam Driver’s character.

Rob: That or give him more screen time and make it more of a two-hander for the first hour and a half or so. Then again, maybe Scorsese knew that the character was just there to plant the seed of doubt? It’s hard to tell. Maybe he felt that the suffering he was depicting was so private and personal that some kind of Buddy Priest adventure wouldn’t resonate as much. Too much expository dialogue also might have spoiled the visceral experience of the film. None of this is meant to knock Andrew Garfield at all, by the way. He’s spectacular.

Adam: I’m right there with you. Garfield is a very emotive actor and I think that works so much to the benefit of Silence because you “get it” so much more than you would with a more stoic presence like, say, Liam Neeson’s character.

Rob: I love that he plays Rodrigues equal parts determined and totally vulnerable. I haven’t seen Hacksaw Ridge, but I hear he’s having a good year so far.

Adam: I’ve seen Hacksaw Ridge. The public wants us to see these pictures and share our thoughts. It’s decent.

Rob: As for the running time, the experience was worth a bit of back pain. Like you said, we should suffer a bit as an audience. Besides, Scorsese’s constantly giving us these little benchmarks to keep the drama ebbing and flowing. Like the “apostatize” sequences, when the Christians-in-hiding are told to step on the image of Christ. It starts as this lark and then gradually builds to the defining moment in the film. You can’t sell that in ninety minutes, but it’s totally cathartic after a long ordeal.

Adam: The character of Kichijiro (Yosuke Kubozuka) was another element that really impressed me. He represented, I think, many people who claim to be religious who are really just using religion as a way to absolve their pervasive weakness of character or indiscretion. I found his arc and that character’s relationship with Garfield’s character to be fascinating and complex.

Rob: He’s the best! My audience laughed this desperate, agonized laugh every time he showed up to atone for a whole new set of sins. He definitely, to me, represented the kind of religious zealot who cherry picks the rules and regulations of their faith as they see fit. He’s gaming the system, taking advantage of its loopholes. Rodrigues’ continued frustration with him was a fantastic way to illustrate his own internal struggle, too. How the hell does this guy keep getting away with it? Why do I keep forgiving him? Is this really the human race I’ve been tasked with saving?

Adam: So a big Mark Ahn for me on Silence.

Rob: Totally. Watching Silence is basically a rite of passage -- it’s both spiritually enlightening and existentially miserable. Since I hate myself, it’s a big Mark Ahn for me. Can we just talk for a second about how Martin Scorsese is still balls-deep into excellent filmmaking while many of his peers are asleep on couches somewhere?

Adam: We’re running long.

Rob: Oh, so you can drone on about politics, but I have to cut to the chase?

Adam: On next week’s show Rob & I will be discussing Live By Night, the new gangster movie from Ben Affleck where he has to shoot a bunch of hoods and decide who he’d rather sleep with — Sienna Miller or Zoe Saldana, a sacrifice almost worse than in Silence.

Rob: Truly, we should be in awe. (Saldana, by the way.)

Adam: I’d like to meet them both first and see if my desire is reciprocated.

Rob: Oh cool, you’re high-roading me? I opened up to you, and you punished me for it.

Adam: Until next time…

Rob: Dick.

Adam: These seats are reserved.

Reserved Seating with Adam and Rob: The Autopsy of Jane Doe

by Adam Riske and Rob DiCristino

The new review duo who tell it to you straight.

Adam: Welcome to the first episode of Reserved Seating with Rob & Adam. I’m Adam Riske.

Rob: And I’m Rob DiCristino, and this week we watched The Autopsy of Jane Doe.

Adam: The Autopsy of Jane Doe is the new film from director André Øvredal, director of Trollhunter.

Rob: It tells the story of Tommy Tilden (Brian Cox) and his son, Austin (Emile Hirsch), a father/son firm of coroners presented with their strangest case yet: a Jane Doe (Olwen Kelly) found buried in the midst of a brutal murder scene. Jane has no marks, no burns, no visible wounds of any kind, and yet somehow still lies dead on the slab. The deeper the Tildens dig, the more convinced they become that something truly terrifying is going on.

Adam: In this clip, Tommy and Austin reveal a trick of the trade to the young man’s girlfriend. She’s played by the curiously named Ophelia Lovibond.

Rob: That’s the name of a spaceship, not a person.

Adam: I’m sure Roger Moore has googled her at least once.



The Autopsy of Jane Doe has several effective set-pieces like this one in the first act but then slowly devolves into a standard haunted house movie where the house is dull and the secrets revealed in the autopsy of Jane Doe become dumber and dumber and dumber. I usually give low-budget horror movies a pass, but a bad script that’s at odds with the character motivations ultimately negates the intriguing set-up. A real disappointment considering the cred it had on the festival circuit.

Rob: I disagree! I’ll give you the bad expository dialogue and underdeveloped character work, but I got a lot of mileage out of the photography and the autopsy effects. For me, they mostly overcame the clunky story bits and weak last act. I love me a good bottle episode, and I thought the film’s visual language got us comfortable with the space before beginning the drama.

Adam: Oh, Rob! Photography and effects? Admittedly the makeup is good, but is that all it takes for you in 2017? Well then here’s $10, I’ll buy you a ticket to Assassin’s Creed. You’ll love it. The story makes no sense. It’s like a house with a foundation made out of noodles. I mean, Brian Cox is good. This movie shows he can imbue humanity and backstory to the most thinly written character but when they reveal the history of this father-son dynamic late in the film...what does it have to do with Jane Doe? It just seems so arbitrary.

Rob: Yeah that’s the second act atonement moment thrown in seemingly because they realized a movie was supposed to have one. What’s funny is that I really am a story and structure guy, so I should have hated a lot of this. I found myself wishing the kid would shut the hell up and that they would do more of those silent shorthand moments of communication they established at several points. Like, I loved that Cox didn’t blink when Hirsch started pouring gasoline on the body. He just lit the match. The film would have benefited from more of that. And more autopsying, dammit!

Adam: Yeah and then the morgue goes up in CGI flames. Filmmakers, if you can’t afford fire, then don’t write a fire scene in your movie. Fire’s free isn’t it? Why couldn’t they get real fire?

Rob: Guys, in case you haven’t figured it out, Adam is the bad cop.

Adam: I am when you’re letting down the public by giving a disappointment like this a pass.

Rob: Oh! Here’s something I hated: You know how the girlfriend jumps out and scares him and goes, “It’s so easy!” I was like, “Cool, maybe the movie’s making a statement about shitty jump scares and will aspire to something better!” No. It did a bunch of them.

Adam: And CGI Resident Evil corpses, don’t forget those. So are you voting Mark Ahn or Mark Off? I couldn’t look Mark Ahn in the face and recommend this movie so I’m telling him to “Mark Off” The Autopsy of Jane Doe from his list of movies to watch.

Rob: I thought there were a lot of good and thoughtful bits that didn’t add up to anything much in the end. The movie kind of bailed on itself when it decided to have father and son explain the history of New England for twenty minutes instead of having a climax. I liked the energy and the pacing, as well as the non-performance of Olwen Kelly as the corpse. But it’s a soft Mark Off, for me.

Adam: There you have it. I liked the Cox and Rob liked the corpse. And not much else.

Rob: Same as it ever was.

Adam: On next week’s show, Rob and I will discuss Silence, Martin Scorsese’s long-gestating passion project. Until next time, these seats are reserved.