Pea Bo reviews ATM, starring that one with the big jaw and Drake and/or Josh.
‘ uMMMmmm. i didnt like this film. this film reminded me of a camel. toe.’
That’s a direct quote from my housemate.
Sometimes ATM’s can be a scary concept. When I approach an ATM, be it at 2am, on my way to the chicken shop, or 8am on a Saturday morning, holding in my shit from lack of toilet roll, I feel my arm shaking as it approaches the machine. Will I have money? Will I be rejected? Will someone see me? I have a reputation, which does sometimes involves me begging people to buy my artwork so I can invest in large volumes of wine to bathe in, but mostly I hope everyone expects I can afford toilet roll. I don’t want anyone to know my low point of when I scandalously tried to wax my vagina with a melted candle, meowing at cats to come keep me company as I dangle, half out my window, legs wrapped around my neck and flames burning my insides.
This film, however, has a different take on it. It’s not our universal fear. They create a new fear. So now, I’m scared of ATMs because I’m broke 98% of my life AND someone might try to kill me.
Alice Eve (for those who don’t know, the one with the square face, who showed everyone her underwear in a weird camera angle for absolutely no reason in Star Trek Into Darkness) stars in this film alongside that dude who was a chubby kid in Josh & Drake. Also, some other guy who I care so little about, I nearly forgot he was in the film. These three work together, and on the way home from a work party, decide to get food so they stop at an ATM for cash. Let me set the scene for you.
It’s a cold night. The chill bites at their bones. They rub their hands for warmth, but their yearning for warmth is overwhelmed by the pain. They wince at every touch, in fear that their brittle bones may break every time they slide their hands across each other. They grind, numb, but you feel it. Their breaths hang in the air of the black night, as they move around the ATM booth. Pacing. Back and forth. Frost cuts into the glass, glaring at them. Warning them. Something is out there. If the cold doesn’t get them first, he will.
Sounds good, right? Yeah well, that’s because I’m fucking awesome at setting a scene. I should have directed this film. But I didn’t. Someone who watched Phonebooth did.
The premise is that there’s a man standing outside the ATM staring at them. They’re intimidated by him. Square-face-unnecessary-underwear-girl gets very nervous about this man, so they stand back and stare right back at him. The standing-very-still-and-staring-man hears someone with their dog and so catwalks (not really, I just wished he did) over to him and slams his face onto the pavement until he’s dead. The three at the ATM booth stand there gasping throughout. Three. Against one man. THREE. If I was on my own, I’d run out screaming, arms flailing, ripping my clothes off, viking warrior mode to take the motherfucker down. But no, they never do this. They just stay inside and panic. The whole film. Occasionally one would run out and try something, but it’s too late now guys, because he’s ready and he’s going to kill you. Fucking surprise the bitch. Walk out casually, ‘what bitch WHAT’ and run at him head first.
I’m still struggling with the ending of this film. I felt like it needed another half an hour to, if anything, apologise to me for wasting my time.
I’m not going to lie, it has potential to be something interesting. What it lacks in storyline it makes up for in atmosphere, but atmosphere can only get you so far, when you’re still wondering what your main characters are still doing inside an ATM booth, dying instead of just walking out and going home.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=geffQdBbKzI
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