... and so it went with watching the movie Knuckleball after (importantly, after) having been told that it's an ultra-violent spin on its forefather Home Alone. Suddenly Kevin McAllisters are all you can see, as far as the eye can see. Lucky for us, and them, Knuckleball is fluent in elephant riding. It hops right on the beast's back and rides that bitch like a rodeo pro. There are explicit nods shot-wise, costume-wise, dialogue-wise, but just when you're thinking it's a goof Knuckleball goes for the guts. Literally. Home Alone meets Martyrs? Why the fuck not.
At just over eighty minutes long Knuckleball skins itself down to fighting shape - there's no excess meat hanging off; all the better to bruise. Luca Villacis (in the Culkin role) is a winning kid, adding a dash of haunted to the proceedings with his big woeful gaze, and the weirdo next-door neighbor is given gum-toothed gusto by Munro Chambers. Knuckleball is lean and mean but it'll get your heart thumping, one hard elephant stomp in the snow at a time.