Chaos: The Manson Murders 2025 * * 1/2 Stars

MURDERS HE WROTE

"Manson became exactly what the CIA was trying to create". That's a darn scary thought I've never even heard about. Man I've lived a pretty sheltered life. 

So OK, I never thought I would revisit the catacombs of Once Upon a Time in Hollywood again, an adapted refresher about Charles Milles Manson and his minions hanging out at some dude ranch outside of sunny LA. But here it is ladies and gents, an actual documentary involving America's most notorious cult leader and his foray into the Tate-LaBianca killings circa 1969. 

Chaos: The Manson Murders, well it's said docu, a sort of acid trip incubus that rounds out to an untidy 95 minutes. A hallucinatory image here, an archive done microfilm-style there, interviews from writers I've never heard of everywhere, a split screen. Yeah "Chaos" is just good enough to keep the viewer totally beguiled and drunk in. With rather raw confabs between the warped Manson and his straight-faced journalists, the pic is above the cinematic Mendoza line when it comes to all things transmission. 

So um, what keeps Chaos: The Manson Murders from reaching adaptation glory greatness? Well it's veteran helmer Errol Morris and the way he puts things together (or doesn't put things together). I mean "Chaos" is well-directed from a style standpoint but it's also oddly tangled from an editing slant. Instead of concentrating on Charley boy, his mind control, his murderous intent, his hyperactive psychopathy, and his stint as Beach Boys buddy monger, Morris waxes mostly about the late 1960s instead, you know, social norms and civil rights and psychedelics, yada yada. His adroitness mostly wanders giving "Chaos" a viewing experience that is rather gallivanting. "When a story did start to emerge, it was managed very carefully". Are you sure about that Errol? Are you bro? Primordial "chaos". 

Written by Jesse Burleson

Squad 36 2025 * * 1/2 Stars

AMBIVALENT OUTFIT

2025's Squad 36 is like a form of mild noir. I mean it's a little too modern day to take place in the 1950s but it does have the gumption to be a film about investigations into the conch of professional murders. Its lead (Victor Belmondo as Antoine Cerda) wanders "36's" French landscape like he's Columbo and/or Philip Marlowe, asking questions with his mediocre-dubbed voice, his near-wooden acting, and his surprisingly searing screen presence. Belmondo, well he appears and shifts like a younger version of a droopy-eyed former Beatle (what you say?). He's in nearly every frame for better or worse. 

So yeah, let's get back to the movie as a whole shall we. Squad 36 is a bit of a slog, a flick that's 30 minutes longer than it should have been. Lots of characters, a few subplots, a lot of slickness. Yeah "36" probably needed a different editor to wade through all this 2-hour-plus hodgepodge. But hey, at least Squad 36's director (Oliver Marchal) is going for a thinking man's thriller as opposed to some mindless actioner starring Thomas Jane and former paycheck monger Bruce Willis (for example). "36", yup it's about a scrappy cop who goes rogue, trying to inspect the deaths of his workmates through off-duty, detective toil. 

All in all, Squad 36 has got streamlined direction, a nice techno soundtrack, some adequate Paris locales, and a certain level of atmospherics. The problem is it's a little too disjointed for its own good. I mean you go back to the pic's elongated running time (124 minutes) and think, "is this some sort of rough cut with a tacked on ending just for kicks and giggles?" Add some unknown troupers with unsung names (Juliette Dol, Yvan Attal), some random shootout clips that are on and off the screen faster than a speeding bullet (pun intended) and you have a well-intention-ed yet mixed review from me. Odd "squad". 

Written by Jesse Burleson

The Wrong Track 2025 * * Stars

OFF TRACK

Manipulative, suggestive, mean-spirited, and recherche sports-related, 2025's The Wrong Track makes a movie like '85's American Flyers seem well, surprisingly tame. It's about cross-country skiing competitions set to lush forestry and frozen water, vapor-covered elevations, a long shot here, an overhead shot there, a wide, some full-frontal nudity (what?). Man I wish I knew what made "Track's" director (Hallvar Witzo) really tick. I mean he's been in the game for 15 years now and I've never heard of any of his swipe. "Can't we try to put all this aside for now?" Sorry, no can do my friend. 

Filmed in snowy Europe (I'm thinking) and featuring some poor dubbing courtesy of good old Netflix (it's their thing now), The Wrong Track is a pic that doesn't know what it wants to be, kind of like a broke twentysomething that's young and dumb and straight out of trade school. I mean is it a romantic drama, a dog-eat-dog, pastime endeavor, a Jake Kasden wannabe, or a dry-humored comedy with thick English accents? That remains to be seen. "Are you out of your mind?" No. Only if I have to glide without going downhill, for hours on end, and forgoing the use of lifts. Ugh!

So yeah, a vehicle about classic ski style originating in Nordic countries doesn't seem like the sexiest thing to ever be put on celluloid. No wonder helmer Witzo had to intersperse "Track" with dramedy, wee and poop jokes, a little whoopee, boring Skiroute-s, and shards of innuendo. Talk about a slippery slope (pun intended). I mean if you think a sad sack, unemployed divorced woman (Ada Elde as Emilie) finishing last in a ski race to appease her fam is a cinematic revelation then more power to you. I'm sure there's a feel good moment there buried beneath the shine of fresh powder. Proved me "wrong".  

Written by Jesse Burleson