Studio: Magnet Releasing
Director: Brea Grant
Writer: Brea Brant
Producer: Jordan Wayne Long, Matt Glass, Tara Perry, Christina McLarty Arquette, David Arquette
Stars: Angela Bettis, Chloe Farnworth, Nikea Gamby-Turner, Kit Williamson, Dusty Warren, Tara Perry, Brooke Seguin, Thomas Hobson, Tom DeTrinis, Mick Foley, David Arquette
Review Score:
Summary:
A drug-addicted nurse and her scatterbrained accomplice see their illegal organ-harvesting operation go up in smoke when a series of accidents and murders throws a hospital into chaos.
Review:
I couldn’t concoct a clever metaphor so this clunky one will have to do. “12 Hour Shift” reminds me of a classic cocktail made by a chain restaurant’s part-time bartender. Palatable ingredients make it a low-risk choice, e.g. reliable names like Angela Bettis immediately inform what brand of indie entertainment is on the menu. You can safely expect it to go down smoothly at a minimum.
But there’s a little more ice watering down the taste than there is alcohol to maintain a buoyant buzz. “12 Hour Shift” could use a zesty citrus twist, heaping handful of Luxardo cherries, or some other creative garnish to liven it up with a stylish flavor to match its madcap premise.
That’s a rough analogy for a couple of reasons, but primarily because writer/director Brea Grant doesn’t deserve to be compared to a college kid drink-slinger carelessly chucking assembly line vodka sodas down a faux wood countertop. She’s every bit the equivalent of a painstakingly professional mixologist who regards each piece of an $18 artisan beverage with respectful attention to detail. The movie she ends up pouring just can’t come up with the unique juice necessary to add “extra” onto “ordinary.”
Grant creates comedy by building “12 Hour Shift’s” early scenes out of vignettes that function like mini-acting showcases. Hypochondriac Mr. Kent mills about a hospital lobby, occasionally pleading with unimpressed nurse Karen. EMT Derrick dances to his Walkman. There’s a nurse named Cathy. Another named Dorothy. Visiting daughter Shawna frets over her mother Mrs. Patrick. Elderly Mr. Collins comes in for dialysis.
One by one we meet the movie’s mildly quirky secondary players while main character Mandy, a drug-addled nurse who secretly facilitates an illegal drug-harvesting operation, sticks her hands in her pockets to play a sullenly silent straight man. “12 Hour Shift” might be making a darkly mirthful mood from this eclectic collection of kooks. In the meanwhile, the only things established about Mandy are that she has neither patience nor empathy for anybody. She’s self-centered and irritable. Her only engaging characteristic is that Angela Bettis wears her skin. Bettis will always be a genre icon in large part due to Lucky McKee’s “May.” That status supplies most of Mandy’s appeal since there’s nearly no other way for her to present an intriguing personality from the film’s passenger seat, which is an awkward place to position a protagonist.
A pleasant side effect of not really coming to care for Mandy is that Chloe Farnworth leaps up the ladder to steal the film out from under everyone else’s feet. As Mandy’s determined yet dimwitted accomplice/cousin (by marriage) Regina, Farnworth plays her part like any ol’ redneck blonde scatterbrain. This means the obnoxiousness of her antics regularly toys with an audience’s tolerance to put up with typical bimbo behavior. Yet Farnworth’s wholehearted commitment punches up “12 Hour Shift” with much needed pep. She ultimately wears down any resistance to stereotypical trappings until you finally recognize how much she catalyses whatever is happening onscreen. If “12 Hour Shift” were remade into a multimillion-dollar movie, Margot Robbie would play Chloe Farnworth’s role.
The character carousel isn’t as consistent as we run down the roster. David Arquette’s infrequent appearances seem to pop up right when your brain is about to fully forget he still exists offscreen somewhere. I love Mick Foley as much as the next guy, but he makes for a convincing black market crime boss about as well as The Undertaker would pass for a concert pianist. The nurses manage to make more out of the movie’s sketch-like setup to be standouts in their scenes though.
Music exemplifies the film’s difficulty getting disparate parts to gel. The score throws in everything from weird jazz drums and opera singers to straining cellos and an honest-to-God musical number as it pursues numerous tactics to prick at your eardrums with aural annoyance. “12 Hour Shift” aims for eccentric energy, but alternately sees itself subdued or confused until the atmosphere ends up more anemic than intended.
“12 Hour Shift’s” last third comes together much better than the first third does. Several inclusions that initially appear random spontaneously boomerang back with payoff punchlines. Grant proves some seeming non-sequiturs are actually cool setups for stingers. Other elements that recede into the background stay there however, prompting questions about what they add to the film in the first place.
Once the movie approached the point of being all said and done, my tongue grew fatigued of its relative tameness. I found myself longing for something sweet, savory, sour, or spicy to make for a memorable kick in the mouth. I didn’t discover it, although that of course doesn’t mean this particular recipe won’t be to your liking. A standard Happy Hour aperitif might be precisely what an unfussy appetite desires.
Review Score: 60
If you want to see impossible amounts of blood explode crimson colors like the world’s worst version of a gender reveal, well, “Abigail” at least has that.