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Deep into Hell Week, a favored pledgee is torn between honoring his code of silence or standing up against the intensifying violence of underground hazing.
In the absence of a more dramatically dynamic approach to that awfully familiar subject matter, "Burning Sands" proves neither as incendiary nor as challenging as intended.
Gerard McMurray's first feature shows remarkable skill and maturity as he unflinchingly tackles the subjects of familial love, pledging fraternities and underground hazing.
There's something powerful even in its predictability-will things go too far? Does the Pope wear a pointy hat?-and in Jackson's fierce, quietly forceful performance.
There's a lingering pain as the credits roll, a reminder of the misconception that to be a real man, one must endure physical and mental pain inflicted by other men, similarly misunderstanding true masculinity.
The occasional heavy-handed or clumsy elements don't seriously impair a film whose high spirits, talented cast and luridly intriguing subject consistently entertain, even if they seldom truly surprise.
Viewed as a cautionary tale about the dangers of hazing, Burning Sands dutifully does its job. As hard-hitting sociopolitical commentary, it falls short.
Distinct in its point of view, with co-writer/director Gerald McMurray creating terrific scenes of anxiety and confusion to help support a periodically disappointing feature.
You definitely come away from the experience with very mixed feelings about what you've seen and how it was presented, which feels just about right for a story like this one.