Everything is on the table, and Waddington’s affection for excess is impressive enough to make silly stuff work (this is, undoubtedly, a director with a point of few and the visual acumen to sell it). As Uma plunges deeper into her apparent therapy, the film pushes into the absurd, but with a discernible reason. Much like taking acid at an all-inclusive resort, there are some good things (incredible costumes from Alberto Valcárcel, three built-in new best friends, free therapy) and plenty of bad (muted screaming the next room over, bad food, dreamless sleep, the understanding they’ve been sent away because their loved ones despise who they are).įor its first act, “Paradise Hills” excels at its primary purpose: highly imaginative world-building with a timely edge. Soon, disgraced pop singer Amarna (Eiza González) joins the fold, and the foursome set about intermittently embracing and fearing the initiatives handed down by The Duchess. Uma is mystified by the entire endeavour, but her soon-to-be-introduced roommates have other ideas: Chloe (a mostly wasted Danielle Macdonald) is enthused about the possibilities of a free vacation, even as she touts that she’s just fine the way she is (the lessons of “Paradise Hills” are necessary, but always terribly obvious), while the anxious Yu (an initially unrecognizable Awkwafina) just wants the whole thing, weirdo roommates and all, to go away. But where is she? At least there’s the smooth-talking Duchess (an extraordinary Milla Jovovich) to explain, terming the joint “a center for emotional healing” that will sooth Uma into what she alleges is a happier life, clearly just another word for compliance. It’s a lush island, but a foreboding one, and as she runs to its literal edge, it’s obvious she’s not going anywhere soon. Told over an intercom she’s in “paradise, of course,” Uma doesn’t quite buy it (why would she? why would anyone?), and attempts to flee her odd new home. In flashback, we find a filthy, disoriented Uma trapped in a room that’s equal parts cement and silk sheets. 'A Tourist's Guide to Love' Review: Rachael Leigh Cook Eats, Prays, and Loves Her Way Through VietnamĢ023 Emmy Predictions: Outstanding Scripted Variety Seriesĥ1 Directors' Favorite Horror Movies: Bong Joon Ho, Quentin Tarantino, Guillermo del Toro, and More Where to Watch This Week's New Movies, from 'Beau Is Afraid' to 'Evil Dead Rise' and More When it’s time for the pair to consummate their marriage, Uma is nearly limp, broken enough that “Son” (he never gets another name) can’t help but comment how she changed she is, how so very different than she used to be, as if that girl doesn’t exist anymore. The guests are thrilled, and her mother (Nancy Jack) couldn’t be more pleased to hear that young Uma is the “epitome of upper perfection.” Clearly, that’s something that involves being subservient and as dead-eyed as her new mate, as Uma is soon tasked with trilling out a song to her new hubby, a dirge assembled entirely around the idea that she’s his servant. The film opens at a fittingly lush, fanciful, and entirely strange wedding, where a nearly unrecognizable Emma Roberts (blame the heavy makeup and a hellacious headpiece) has just entered into unholy matrimony with a dead-eyed rich dude (Arnaud Valois, dimming all his charm from “BPM”). So, what’s left? Waddington doesn’t bother looking. Are people obsessed with how things look? Obviously. Are women still treated like second class citizens? Often. Are people bound by their social class? Yes. A feminist fairy tale with a generous sprinkling of “Alice in Wonderland” imagery and enough crinoline to outfit an entire cotillion, “Paradise Hills” soon gives itself over to the most obvious of questions and answers, unearthing nothing new in the process. It’s not an entirely successful endeavor, but at least for its dense first act, it’s a compelling one that shows off Waddington’s knack for world-building and eye-popping visuals. The world that Alice Waddington dreams up for her feature directorial debut, “ Paradise Hills,” is really not so different from the world many people live in today - stratified classes, women only defined in relation to their husbands, a premium on appearance over substance - but Waddington attempts to pull those cultural and societal wounds into a fresh perspective.
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