(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Irene Kelly travels through parallel universes, repeatedly killing her daughter's murderer. As she becomes consumed by vengeance, her humanity hangs in the balance.”
Over the years, there have been a good number of theatrical releases whose fortunes were shortchanged over the fact that admittedly the studio marketing departments didn’t quite know what to do with them.
Perhaps the single greatest example of this Hollywood phenomenon remains 1990’s Tremors. The Ron Underwood film was the birth of one of Science Fiction’s lesser franchises – while not possessing the narrative clout to compete alongside Star Wars or Star Trek, the property still produced an incredible number of direct-to-video sequels – and remains a small juggernaut to this day. But at the time of its release, those folks chiefly tasked with creating an advertising strategy for a film that was equal parts Science Fiction, Horror, and Comedy failed to come up with a hook to draw viewers into theaters. The picture mostly languished in obscurity; and it wasn’t until Tremors was released on home video that – seemingly out of nowhere – audiences embraced it, recommending it to friends and families everywhere. This ‘little engine that could’ went on to become one of the biggest fan favorites ever; and yet hardly anyone could claim to have seen it on the big screen.
Dare I suggest that 2025’s Redux Redux might suffer the same fate?
Written and directed by the team of Kevin and Matthew McManus, the film tells the story of Irene Kelly (played by Michaela McManus), a woman who tragically lost her teenage daughter Anna (Grace Van Dien) to serial killer Neville (Jeremy Holm) in some unimaginable act of violence that we’re thankfully never shown. But in her attempt to process her grief, Irene has tapped into an underground network of technology traffickers who’ve perfected the use of devices which allow users to hop from one parallel universe to the next. Essentially, she’s committed herself to locating Anna still alive in some other reality, though there’s never any clear explanation as to what she’ll do when and if she finds her daughter living and breathing.
Therein lies the central problem with Redux Redux: it’s void of any tangible and/or relatable mission statement. Naturally, the assumption is that Irene intends to locate a facsimile version of her daughter and perhaps lure her back to her original reality; but without any authentic explanation of the woman’s intent the script instead invests almost entirely in Irene slaughtering every iteration of Neville she can. She shoots him. She cuts his throat. She suffocates him. Instead of offering up a theory as to why our heroine never simply arrives in a new continuum and seeks out Anna, the McManus’s are intent on exploring the gratuitous lengths Irene is willing to travel to extract a personal vengeance. Such glorification might be understandable for a time, but it grows a bit tiresome when that appears all the woman’s interests could be.
Of course, there’s another variable which gets introduced that alters Irene’s trajectory: on one trip, our vigilante discovers Mia (Stella Marcus), the next victim in Neville’s private killing spree who hasn’t yet succumbed to her injuries. By freeing the young woman and attempting to return her home, Irene slowly begins to realize just how much of her humanity she’s sacrificed on her own vendetta. This single act of mercy puts her in the unique position of questioning why she’s done all that she has; and although she’s not yet willing to give it all up and return home to live out her days in peace Irene discovers that there’s still the capacity to care for someone or something new – i.e. Mia – which also might help her come to terms with her untethered anger.
Now, none of this is handled with any hugely significant scenes. The McManus’ largely use their screen time propulsively, going from one tense sequence to another. The action does slow down a bit to allow for Mia’s introduction and the late-breaking development involving Irene’s world-hopping machine to blow its power source; but a great deal of Redux Redux maintains a fast space. That’s a shame because, frankly, I thought the actioner worked better when it strayed into quieter and gentler territory. It may not perfectly handle everything it introduces, but Redux Redux still works as a modest character study for its leading lady.
Still, I can’t help but wonder how an advertiser’s inability to market the picture may’ve affected its box office potential. I recall it playing briefly in theaters near me; and the scuttlebutt I’ve read regarding it online strongly suggests that it’s a time travel thriller even though nothing could quite be further from the truth. While there is a small element of time to the plot, the truth is that this is a picture entirely invested in the theory of multiple worlds: anyone showing up thinking that Irene was traveling back in time to prevent the murder of her child might’ve been a bit disappointed with what unfolded as nothing like that ever takes place.
What there is is a pretty compelling story of how one woman chose to deal with her heartache. Granted, she could’ve had a better mission statement – or, minimally, something explaining what it is she hoped to accomplish as a long-term provision to her game plan – and I’m left a bit at a loss as to make of the film’s closing scenes. Did Irene finally find peace? Or did she realize that perhaps the peace she sought was no longer attainable? I’m never one who likes to make up my mind about another’s intended takeaway; and I would’ve preferred a bit more closure than what the McManus’s provide.
But … maybe that’s the point.
Redux Redux (2025) was produced by Mothership Motion Pictures. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Saban Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can still assure readers that the provided sights and sounds are quite good throughout: there’s a limited amount of (mostly) practical effects that work quite well, adding to the general mystique of the world-hopping process. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Alas … not a single one … and I would’ve liked something.
Recommended.
For those really interested in the mechanics of film advertising, I find it important to stress that Redux Redux is most certainly not a time travel flick as a great many outlets have spoken about it online. What the McManus brothers have attempted here is to bring to life a multiverse of Earths – each with minor differences to one another (as opposed to what Marvel and other properties have done) – and I can’t help but wonder if the preponderance of online chatter suggesting this is a time travel story resulted in some confusion that may’ve hurt its box office potential. That fact aside, what remains is a reasonably heartfelt quest of one woman seeking a kind of spiritual closure to what’s missing from her life. It’s well-told and competently delivered … and yet it still feels a bit flat with its resolution. This isn’t to suggest that it doesn’t work: rather, it’s only to say that the finale didn’t mean as much to me as it might to others.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Saban Films (via Allied Vaughn) provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Redux Redux (2025) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Irene Kelly travels through parallel universes, repeatedly killing her daughter's murderer. As she becomes consumed by vengeance, her humanity hangs in the balance.”
Over the years, there have been a good number of theatrical releases whose fortunes were shortchanged over the fact that admittedly the studio marketing departments didn’t quite know what to do with them.
Perhaps the single greatest example of this Hollywood phenomenon remains 1990’s Tremors. The Ron Underwood film was the birth of one of Science Fiction’s lesser franchises – while not possessing the narrative clout to compete alongside Star Wars or Star Trek, the property still produced an incredible number of direct-to-video sequels – and remains a small juggernaut to this day. But at the time of its release, those folks chiefly tasked with creating an advertising strategy for a film that was equal parts Science Fiction, Horror, and Comedy failed to come up with a hook to draw viewers into theaters. The picture mostly languished in obscurity; and it wasn’t until Tremors was released on home video that – seemingly out of nowhere – audiences embraced it, recommending it to friends and families everywhere. This ‘little engine that could’ went on to become one of the biggest fan favorites ever; and yet hardly anyone could claim to have seen it on the big screen.
Dare I suggest that 2025’s Redux Redux might suffer the same fate?
Written and directed by the team of Kevin and Matthew McManus, the film tells the story of Irene Kelly (played by Michaela McManus), a woman who tragically lost her teenage daughter Anna (Grace Van Dien) to serial killer Neville (Jeremy Holm) in some unimaginable act of violence that we’re thankfully never shown. But in her attempt to process her grief, Irene has tapped into an underground network of technology traffickers who’ve perfected the use of devices which allow users to hop from one parallel universe to the next. Essentially, she’s committed herself to locating Anna still alive in some other reality, though there’s never any clear explanation as to what she’ll do when and if she finds her daughter living and breathing.
Therein lies the central problem with Redux Redux: it’s void of any tangible and/or relatable mission statement. Naturally, the assumption is that Irene intends to locate a facsimile version of her daughter and perhaps lure her back to her original reality; but without any authentic explanation of the woman’s intent the script instead invests almost entirely in Irene slaughtering every iteration of Neville she can. She shoots him. She cuts his throat. She suffocates him. Instead of offering up a theory as to why our heroine never simply arrives in a new continuum and seeks out Anna, the McManus’s are intent on exploring the gratuitous lengths Irene is willing to travel to extract a personal vengeance. Such glorification might be understandable for a time, but it grows a bit tiresome when that appears all the woman’s interests could be.
Of course, there’s another variable which gets introduced that alters Irene’s trajectory: on one trip, our vigilante discovers Mia (Stella Marcus), the next victim in Neville’s private killing spree who hasn’t yet succumbed to her injuries. By freeing the young woman and attempting to return her home, Irene slowly begins to realize just how much of her humanity she’s sacrificed on her own vendetta. This single act of mercy puts her in the unique position of questioning why she’s done all that she has; and although she’s not yet willing to give it all up and return home to live out her days in peace Irene discovers that there’s still the capacity to care for someone or something new – i.e. Mia – which also might help her come to terms with her untethered anger.
Now, none of this is handled with any hugely significant scenes. The McManus’ largely use their screen time propulsively, going from one tense sequence to another. The action does slow down a bit to allow for Mia’s introduction and the late-breaking development involving Irene’s world-hopping machine to blow its power source; but a great deal of Redux Redux maintains a fast space. That’s a shame because, frankly, I thought the actioner worked better when it strayed into quieter and gentler territory. It may not perfectly handle everything it introduces, but Redux Redux still works as a modest character study for its leading lady.
Still, I can’t help but wonder how an advertiser’s inability to market the picture may’ve affected its box office potential. I recall it playing briefly in theaters near me; and the scuttlebutt I’ve read regarding it online strongly suggests that it’s a time travel thriller even though nothing could quite be further from the truth. While there is a small element of time to the plot, the truth is that this is a picture entirely invested in the theory of multiple worlds: anyone showing up thinking that Irene was traveling back in time to prevent the murder of her child might’ve been a bit disappointed with what unfolded as nothing like that ever takes place.
What there is is a pretty compelling story of how one woman chose to deal with her heartache. Granted, she could’ve had a better mission statement – or, minimally, something explaining what it is she hoped to accomplish as a long-term provision to her game plan – and I’m left a bit at a loss as to make of the film’s closing scenes. Did Irene finally find peace? Or did she realize that perhaps the peace she sought was no longer attainable? I’m never one who likes to make up my mind about another’s intended takeaway; and I would’ve preferred a bit more closure than what the McManus’s provide.
But … maybe that’s the point.
Redux Redux (2025) was produced by Mothership Motion Pictures. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Saban Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can still assure readers that the provided sights and sounds are quite good throughout: there’s a limited amount of (mostly) practical effects that work quite well, adding to the general mystique of the world-hopping process. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Alas … not a single one … and I would’ve liked something.
Recommended.
For those really interested in the mechanics of film advertising, I find it important to stress that Redux Redux is most certainly not a time travel flick as a great many outlets have spoken about it online. What the McManus brothers have attempted here is to bring to life a multiverse of Earths – each with minor differences to one another (as opposed to what Marvel and other properties have done) – and I can’t help but wonder if the preponderance of online chatter suggesting this is a time travel story resulted in some confusion that may’ve hurt its box office potential. That fact aside, what remains is a reasonably heartfelt quest of one woman seeking a kind of spiritual closure to what’s missing from her life. It’s well-told and competently delivered … and yet it still feels a bit flat with its resolution. This isn’t to suggest that it doesn’t work: rather, it’s only to say that the finale didn’t mean as much to me as it might to others.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Saban Films (via Allied Vaughn) provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Redux Redux (2025) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
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