For its first thirty-to-forty minutes, Leeches is a hilarious romp into the abyss of bottom-of-the-barrel cinematic crap. Really, really ugly shots, unspeakable dialogue, embarassing SFX, and most of all, risible homoerotic overtones all the way... its sheer awfulness belongs to the unexplainable-- and it is, for long stretches, nothing less than fascinating to watch. Of course, all this crushing shittiness eventually turns wearying, and suddenly, Leeches is not super-funny garbage as much as it is super-disturbing garbage. You wonder who ever thought this or that was a good idea, even by the standards of grade-Z horror junk. You wonder WHO THE FUCK funded this abomination. You wonder how the lead actors feel when a loved one discovers they've played a major part in this hysterical suckfest.
And then you wonder why you made it to the end.
Less biting comedic romp than abhorrent case study. Cody's thorniest script meets Reitman's most comfortable direction, to a certain fault. Moments of pure human terror are aplenty. Theron is terrific, almost beyond belief.
Daldryism find its nadir in Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close, where exploration of grief allows nothing more than pretty surfaces and every sentiment has to be wanly noodled with past degree of tolerance. Thomas Horn has the chops, but is never permitted to break out of elf-child mode. Limps to a finish.
Engaging, textured film-as-history fare, A Dangerous Method's screenplay changes a mixed bag. It gets richer and richer as it reels along, largely thanks to four committed performances, despite the fact that they often seem to take part in four separate films. Mortensen, all cloistered judgment & obstinate command, leaves the strongest impression.