The Worst Movies Of 2018

Image courtesy of Lionsgate.

Like a flatulent elephant following a hearty bamboo snack, 2018 stunk out loud. From Donald Trump's increasingly disturbing antics to nearly everyone I know being stricken with some type of misfortune, the past 12 months were, well, not good.

That being said, it was a pretty decent year for movies. But more on that later after Pittsburgh finally brings in the final two movies upon which I am waiting before I can make my best of the year list.

In the meantime, it's time to look back - albeit not fondly - on some of the year's worst movies. There weren't any huge bombs, although I have missed a number of movies this year, especially big budget ones, that conceivably could have sucked. Since I am a glutton for punishment, I will likely catch up with them in the new year.

Without further ado, here are 10 movies to avoid from 2018:

10. The Nun - A religious-themed horror movie from the "Conjuring" universe that is so lacking in scares that it'll make you say, "Holy shit!" Reviewed here.

9. Truth or Dare -
Q: Truth or dare?
A: Truth
Q: Is "Truth or Dare" any good?
A: No
Reviewed here.

8. Death Wish - Eli Roth continues his tradition of making my worst of the year list with this noxious remake of the 1974 Charles Bronson film that feels like an imbecilic alt-right fantasy.

7. Gotti - Regarding this often hilariously bad film about the Teflon Don, it's best that you fuggedaboutit.

6. The Strangers Prey at Night - Some people seemingly thought the nihilistic 2008 original was good and, therefore, decided to make a second chapter 10 years later. It still sucks.

5. Dead Night - Hammy acting and a nonsensical story made this 86 minute horror movie feel longer than all of the "Lord of the Rings" films combined.

4. Slender Man - To call this picture, which somewhat sleazily capitalizes on the real-life incident in which two girls tried to sacrifice another to the titular figure, slender would be generous. Reviewed here.

3. The Happytime Murders - Some of the characters in this comedy about foul mouthed and sexually active puppets come alive on screen due to puppeteers having their hands up their asses. The filmmakers, on the other hand, have their heads in theirs. Reviewed here.

2. Mile 22 - Peter Berg goes full Michael Bay with this ridiculous CIA action thriller in which Mark Wahlberg essentially plays that guy who gets hopped up on cocaine, corners you at a party and forces you to listen to conspiracy theories.

1. The Row - Imagine one of the most inept slasher films you've ever seen, a twist you can see from a mile away and a filmmaking style that appears to have been influenced by "Girls Gone Wild" videos. Now imagine that film starring Randy Couture and Lala Kent - yes, the one from "Vanderpump Rules."

Other movies to avoid: "Super Troopers 2," "Insidious: The Last Key," "The Strange Ones," "Winchester," "Fifty Shades Freed," "The 15:17 to Paris," "The Vanishing of Sidney Hall," "Life of the Party," "Tag," "Double Lover," "Pacific Rim: Uprising," "Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again," "Kings," "The Spy Who Dumped Me," "Superfly," "Ghost Stories," "Skyscraper" and "Never Goin' Back."

Review: Shoplifters

Image courtesy of Magnolia Pictures.

The films of Hirokazu Kore-eda are often dramas centering on families or children that are humanistic, simple in nature and alternately hopeful and melancholic. This description certainly fits the director's latest work - the Palm d'Or winner "Shoplifters," which ranks as one of his very best and saddest.

At more that one point during the film, a question is posed: Does giving birth automatically make one a mother? Also, are the people to whom you are born necessarily your family or can one have a say in such matters? We only gradually learn the answer to these questions as the relationships between the film's central six characters are revealed in occasionally startling, but also moving, ways.

As the film opens, Osamu (Lily Franky) and Nobuyo (Ando Sakura) stumble upon a young girl named Juri (Miyu Sasaki), who has seemingly been abandoned by her quarreling parents and is hungry. They take her back to their ramshackle home for a meal, and there she meets the family's other members - a boy named Shota (Jyo Kairi), a woman named Aki (Matsuoka Mayu) and a grandmother (Kiki Kilin).

Prior to this scene, it has been established that the family lives hand to mouth, apparently appears to be squatting in their home, and Osamu and Shota have mastered the art of shoplifting from local stores. Although several of the family members are concerned that someone will come looking for Juri - and someone eventually does - they decide to let her stay and become part of the family.

Osamu and Nobuyo reconcile their choice with the concept that what they've done is not kidnapping since they are not asking for a ransom. And for a while, the six people operate as a family. There's a lovely scene in which they visit the beach and some charming bonding moments between Shota and Juri, especially during a scene in which a kindly shopkeeper catches them in the act of stealing and makes a compromise. But an accident occurs and the family is paid a visit by the authorities.

"Shoplifters" is a powerful film that creeps on you. It's the type of picture - similar to Kore-eda's other movies - in which little plot can be found, but small moments add up to big ones. In this case, it's a farewell between two family members involving a bus trip that is especially heartbreaking and another character left alone on a balcony to ponder where they've ended up. Both involve children - one looking back and the other looking forward.

Kore-eda has long been called the heir apparent to the great Yasujiro Ozu, one of Japan's great filmmakers whose works are also deeply rooted in humanism and offer profound revelations through intimate character studies. Kore-eda's first two films - "Maborosi" and "After Life" - have long been my favorites in his oeuvre - and while I've enjoyed the numerous films he has made between those two and his latest, "Shoplifters" is easily his best work since then. It's a heartbreaker, but one in which the emotions have been earned by its extraordinary cast and Kore-eda's obvious talents as a filmmaker.

Review: Burning

Image courtesy of Well Go USA Entertainment.

Lee Chang-dong's enigmatic "Burning" is a mesmerizing meditation on perception and a slow burn thriller that focuses on class tensions and the nature of truth in a beguiling manner. It's the sort of film that you find yourself pondering for hours - and likely days - after wandering out of the theater.

Chang-dong's previous work - especially his breakthrough, "Oasis," and the emotionally grueling "Secret Sunshine" - often utilize themes of crime and punishment as well as the toll such things take on relationships. This could also be used to characterize "Burning," but attempting to pin it down is a task that will likely be fruitless for those who try.

The film is split into two very distinct halves, at least stylistically, although there's nothing to indicate when one has slipped into the other. The picture's first half is told in a realist fashion as we meet delivery boy Jong-su (Ah-in Yoo), whom we first spot lugging a load of clothing that he is attempting to sell to a second-hand store. In front of the store, he meets a young woman named Hae-mi (Jong-seo Jun), who says that she knew Jong-su from when they were children. Although she claims he told her that she was ugly when they were young, he quickly becomes smitten with her.

Their relationship moves along quickly - Hae-mi takes Jong-su to her cramped apartment, where they have sex, and then asks him to feed her cat, Boil, while she is away on a trip to Africa. However, Jong-su never spots the cat and starts to wonder if it even exists. This is a central theme in "Burning" and there's a sequence of great foreshadowing early on when Hae-mi, who is taking pantomime classes, pretends to strip the peeling off an imaginary tangerine and acts as if she is eating it. She instructs Jong-su: "Don't think that there is a tangerine here. Forget that there isn't one. The important thing is that you really want one."

Jong-su is deeply disappointed when Hae-mi returns from Africa with a new beau in tow - Ben (Steven Yeun), a wealthy guy who drives a Porsche, has a flashy apartment and notes that he "plays" when asked about his line of work. However, Jong-su continues to play the third wheel to Hae-mi and Ben, tagging along to restaurants, parties and nightclubs.

A pivotal scene halfway through the film allows for the picture to change tones. Smoking weed at Jong-su's farm - where he lives alone due to his father being in jail and on trial for having assaulted a neighboring farmer - the trio watch as the breeze blows the branches of the trees and the sun sets. Hae-mi strips off her shirt and displays two dances she learned in Africa: that of the "Little Hunger" (those who are literally hungry) and the "Great Hunger" (those who hunger to understand the mysteries of life). As she dances, Ben admits to Jong-su that he has a hobby of burning down greenhouses, about which Jong-su later begins to wonder whether this is a metaphor for something more sinister, and notes that he believes morality matters little in the world, but rather "just the morals of nature."

Then, Hae-mi seemingly goes missing and Jong-su, whose last words to her were of an unkind nature, takes on the role of an obsessed detective, first paying visits to nearby greenhouses to see if Ben's claims of having burned one down are true, and then stalking Ben to determine whether he had anything to do with Jong-su's paramour's disappearance. The film has a resolution, but it's never quite clear whether what Jong-su believed to have happened is actually what happened. In other words, this is a film about the unknowability of life's mysteries.

And mysteries abound in this film. Hae-mi's tangerine peeling comes to stand for much more by the film's end. There's the question of whether her cat exits as well as whether Ben actually burns down greenhouses or if he's referring to something else entirely. Jong-su's phone mysteriously rings throughout the film, but no one speaks when he picks up. The caller appears to be identified later in the film, but we can't really be sure. Hae-mi tells Jong-su a story about how she fell into a well as a girl, but other people later refute her story, insinuating that she made the whole thing up.

The film is also concerned with class differences in South Korea. Jong-su - who lives in an isolated section of the country that is so close to the North Korean border that propaganda from that nation can often be heard being broadcast in the distance - is lower class and clearly resents Ben, whom he calls "the Great Gatsby." At one point in the film, Donald Trump - a silver spoon baby if there ever was one - is speaking in the foreground, while Jong-su takes a piss in the background. Another interesting moment occurs late in the film when a group of Ben's wealthy friends refer to the United States and China as two great superpowers, while South Korea is stuck between them, and the analogy can also relate to the relationship between the film's three central characters.

Regarding the film's title, there is burning both figurative (Jong-su's passion for Hae-mi) and literal (Ben's alleged hobby of setting greenhouses aflame). However, there are only two scenes of actual burning - one in which a young Jong-su, via flashback, is seen setting his mother's clothes on fire after she fled the family, and the finale in which clothes are again burnt, but this time as a sort of cleansing ritual.

Chang-dong's film is one of the year's most inscrutable and original. It's a movie about the vast space between what we think we know and what actually is. It's the type of picture that just when you think you have figured it out, it eludes your grasp. Blending realism and dream-like sequences, terrific acting and great writing (did I mention it's based on a Haruki Murakami short story that is, in turn, inspired by one from William Faulkner?), "Burning" is one of the year's must-see movies.

Review: The Mule

Image courtesy of Warner Bros.

If "The Mule" ends up being Clint Eastwood's final film - and I'm not trying to be morose, but he is 89 years old - it will be a fitting sendoff as it incorporates a number of the elements that have characterized the latter part of his career: stories about elderly curmudgeons, films about the effects of violence and angry characters who are softened through contact with other people. All in all, "The Mule" is a solid late Eastwood film, and a significant step up from several of his recent pictures, namely "The 15:17 to Paris," "Sully" and "Jersey Boys."

In the film, Eastwood plays Earl, a man who has dedicated his life to growing and hybridizing day lilies at the expense of skipping out on family functions. His estranged ex-wife (Dianne Wiest) and daughter (Alison Eastwood) barely speak to him anymore after he failed to show up for the latter's wedding. His granddaughter (Taissa Farmiga) is the only family member who holds out hope for him.

After his business begins to fail, Earl discovers an opportunity to become a driver for a Mexican cartel, carrying packages - into which he, at first, doesn't peek - from place to place in his pickup truck. He's a good choice for a mule - his advanced age make him an unlikely drug runner, so he manages to elude the police. Slightly less realistic is his ability to stay alive after continuously making grouchy remarks to cartel members.

Based on his performance at the 2012 Republican convention and (at least, previous) support for Donald Trump, some might make the mistake of thinking that "The Mule" will be some sort of MAGA fantasy in which Eastwood - much as he did in the superior "Gran Torino" - takes on the cartels and helps secure the border. While Earl occasionally makes un-PC comments - which are included somewhat uncomfortably, especially during a scene in which he helps an African American couple whose car has broken down - those who think they have the film figured out from the get-go might be surprised that Earl's comments are continually challenged by other characters, and Earl is consistently found by others to be in the wrong. Several of the cartel members are even portrayed sympathetically.

All the while, a group of FBI agents led by Bradley Cooper's Colin Bates are trying to follow the mule's trail, not knowing that the man they are looking for is a senior citizen. There's a nice scene in which Eastwood and Cooper meet in a diner that recalls the DeNiro-Pacino sit-down in Michael Mann's "Heat." A later scene when the two men meet up again acts as a nice coda to the relationship.

"The Mule" is a film about an aging man's regrets, and while Earl's antics are often played for laughs, the bonding that the character has with his family in the film's final moments are surprisingly moving. While the film might not be quite on par with some of Eastwood's best work of the 21st century - his two World War II films, "Mystic River" and "Million Dollar Baby" - it's a well-made and engrossing story of a man trying to rectify his mistakes. This is ground that has been tread many times before, but it's handled here with humor and grace.

Review: Vox Lux

Image courtesy of Neon.

Actor-turned-director Brady Corbet follows up his haunting and impressive directorial debut "The Childhood of a Leader" with the wild, garish and somewhat messy "Vox Lux." The film opens with an engrossing prologue and the film's first hour is solid, until its second act - and the introduction of its lead actress - throws it somewhat off-kilter. Regardless, even though I question whether the film completely works and what exactly it intends to convey, it remains mostly interesting.

The picture opens with a horrific school shooting in the late 1990s that is clearly meant to resemble Columbine. A young girl named Celeste (Raffey Cassidy) is struck by the assassin's bullets, but miraculously survives. She is overcome by a burst of inspiration and writes a song about the tragedy with her older sister, Eleanor (Stacy Martin), that ends up attracting national attention and, in the process, becomes a hit.

Celeste and her sister are wooed by a sleazy producer (Jude Law) to take part in a recording session in Stockholm and end up quickly shedding their religious, good girl personas as Celeste is groomed to be a pop star. These early scenes are the film's best, and Corbet displays a mastery of film style, from the eerie opening credits, which unravel against a backdrop of an ambulance racing toward a hospital, to the almost funereal scenes of Celeste being trained by a choreographer and recording her first record.

The picture then jumps ahead to 2017, where Celeste (now played by Natalie Portman) has become a spoiled pop star whose multiple controversies - including crushing someone's leg in an auto accident and then shouting racial slurs at the victim - have not quite managed to derail her career. As she prepares for a tour based on her new science fiction-themed album, "Vox Lux," a group of terrorists wearing masks eerily similar to those donned by Celeste's backup dancers has opened fire on some tourists. Considering that Celeste's career was launched amid a tragedy, the terrorists' use of her imagery is seemingly not accidental.

But despite all of these compelling elements, "Vox Lux" never quite maximizes them to its full potential. The modern scenes featuring Portman are not as engrossing as the earlier sequences, and much time is spent on Celeste's tumultuous relationships with her sister and teenage daughter (Sophie Lane Curtis), including a diner freakout scene that goes on slightly too long and serves little purpose, other than to remind how much of a hot mess the lead character has become.

I'll give credit to Corbet and company for centering a film around a lead character who makes herself extremely difficult to like. However, Celeste is an anti-hero similar to Daniel Day Lewis' Daniel Plainview, in that she may be a nightmare to deal with, but she occasionally hits the nail on the head - at least, when it comes to modern pop culture's lack of value and an audience's willingness to forgive horrible behavior as long as one remains entertaining.

The picture clearly has some ideas - although they are not completely fleshed out to a satisfying degree - about how America commoditizes tragedy, repackages it and turns it into pop culture. It's also astute as to how meaningful art - for example, Celeste's heartfelt song borne out of the shooting she escaped - captures the attention of corporate America, which then drains it of its purity and churns out escapist fluff - such as the bland pop numbers that Celeste performs during the film's concert finale. At one point, Celeste tells someone of her work, "I don't want people to think too much. I just want them to feel good."

Corbet's film - which is, for the most part, consistently interesting, even if not as thoroughly impressive as his debut - is a movie that clearly has some things on its mind. Even if the film occasionally stumbles while doing so, it's good to see an actor step behind the camera and have something to say.

Review: Roma

Image courtesy of Netflix.

A small story told on a grand scale, Alfonso Cuaron's "Roma" is a gorgeous, autobiographical slice of life that dazzles with its breathtaking imagery and sneaks up on you emotionally. Much like "Boyhood," it takes a story that focuses on the quotidian and masterfully draws empathy from its audience through the story of a character - and those surrounding her - whose life is often dictated by forces out of her control as a result of history and the unpredictability of human nature.

Cleo (Yalitza Aparicio in a terrific debut performance) is a housekeeper for a wealthy family in Mexico City in the early 1970s, but she is much more than that - to the children, she's an indispensable member of the family, although her employers occasionally remind her that she is, in fact, also a servant. She spends her days tending to the children's needs, cleaning up the seemingly never-ending supply of poop courtesy of Borras, the family's excitable mutt, and trying to steer clear of the evident drama between matriarch Sra. Sofia (Marina de Tavira) and her husband, whose lack of presence is slowly explained during the course of the picture.

The early scenes in the film - the entirety of which is shot in gorgeous black and white - depict the lazy days of summer, and the picture is presented as a dreamy recollection of memory. It is clear that Cuaron himself is one of the four somewhat rascally kids whom Cleo fiercely protects. In a lovely scene during the film's opening moments, precocious Pepe (Marco Graf), possibly Cleo's favorite child in the family, is left dejected during a game with one of his older brothers. He lies down on the roof of the family's posh home and tells Cleo that he's not responding to her inquiries because he's "dead." She takes a break from her work and plays dead with him.

This is a film of stunning imagery, and it unspools in vignettes, much in the way that memories leave images imprinted on our psyches. One of the film's most masterful shots is of a movie theater in which a silly comedy plays in the background of a massive screen and a mini drama plays out in the foreground. Cleo tells Fermin (Jorge Antonio Guerrero), a cousin of a friend's boyfriend who is obsessed with martial arts, that she is pregnant with his child, and he - who is the closest thing to the film's villain - delivers his first of several horrid responses. Other shots that have become embedded in my memory from the film include a group of men undertaking martial arts training in a field, numerous shots of planes drifting in the sky in the background and a staircase with chickens on it that feels as if it was snatched out of a classic film noir.

Cleo is terrified to tell Sra. Sofia about the pregnancy, and while we've come to expect that her mistress - whom we later learn has been stern due to her own set of troubles - will respond harshly, it is a surprise to find that not only she, but the entire family for whom Cleo works, is supportive. Her pregnancy is pivotal to all that comes next. During a remarkable series of sequences, Cleo finds her water breaking while away from home as 1971's Corpus Christi Massacre of student demonstrators takes place in front of her eyes. She is rushed to a hospital, where she undergoes a grueling delivery and a moment of heartbreak occurs.

Upon returning home, Sra. Sofia plans a trip to the beach with the children and asks Cleo to come along, not as a servant, but for the purpose of a vacation. A final set piece at the beach involving an act of heroism from Cleo draws the family closer together, and we realize that its members - Cleo, Sra. Sofia and the children - all rely on one another. The combination of Cleo's birth and the finale at the beach result in one of the year's most emotionally satisfying and deeply moving denouements. The film even ends on a lovely final shot that seems to indicate that Cleo is a saint.

"Roma" is clearly a very personal film for Cuaron, who has noted that it is dedicated to the women who made an impact on his life. In this film, those women are three caretakers - Cleo, Sra. Sofia and Sra. Teresa (Veronica Garcia), the grandmother who accompanies Cleo to the hospital and comforts Sra. Sofia. The film's men are mostly absent husbands and irresponsible boyfriends.

This is one of the year's best films. "Roma" is visually astounding - and should be seen on the largest screen possible, despite Netflix now offering it for streaming - marvelously acted and thematically rich. It beautifully balances its creator's personal memories against the backdrop of an historic moment, all the while creating empathy for a character who many of us might never have the opportunity to get to know. It's a triumph and one of Cuaron's finest films to date.

Review: The Favourite

Image courtesy of Fox Searchlight Pictures.

Director Yorgos Lanthimos has once again trained his camera on a scene of domestic horror - however, this time it's the queen of England, two women and several men who are vying for her attentions as opposed to the dysfunctional families on whom the filmmaker typically focuses. A film about royals might not be the first picture you'd imagine Lanthimos taking on, but his latest ends up being one of his best movies to date.

As the film opens, ailing and eccentric Queen Anne (a wonderful Olivia Colman) rules the land with the help of her trusty confidante, adviser and lover Sarah (Rachel Weisz), who is based on Sarah Churchill. The balance in the castle is interrupted with the arrival of Abigail Hill (Emma Stone, like you've never seen her before), a seemingly winsome daughter of a fallen aristocrat who is also apparently a cousin of Sarah. At first, Abigail is relegated to working as a maid, after having arrived at the castle's doorstep covered in mud. But after finding an antidote for a severe rash from which the queen suffers, she finds her fortunes on the rise.

Although history notes that the queen and Sarah did, in fact, have a close relationship and that their friendship later soured, while Hill indeed became a favorite of the monarch, it's very likely that some great liberties are taken in the film. It's no matter as Lanthimos utilizes the rivalry between Sarah and Abigail to great comedic effect. You'll likely be laughing when you're not wincing. Imagine "All About Eve," but more outrageous, raunchy and foul mouthed. A scene in which a suitor makes repeated failed attempts to woo Abigail in the woods is alone worth the price of admission.

Considering our current political moment, "The Favourite" involves some timely themes regarding women in power. The film concerns itself with a power struggle - of that between Sarah and Abigail for the queen's attentions, although there's a great final shot in which we are given a hint about who has had the power, both figuratively and literally, between the three women all along.

Lanthimos is a talented filmmaker, although his tales of domestic strife have occasionally been hit or miss. His breakthrough film, "Dogtooth," was a fascinating oddity that was both hilarious and horrifying, while "The Lobster," although imperfect, was wildly original. "Alps" was a misfire and his previous film, "The Killing of a Sacred Deer," was a fine example of a director's style parodying itself. With "The Favourite," the director finds himself back on track.

This is a sharp, often hilarious, occasionally mortifying and wonderfully acted film. It's certainly different from most of the other movies about royals that you typically see around this time of year. The picture is stylish and prone to flourishes - the use of a fisheye lens is a curious choice - and the director's trademark style lends itself well to the material. Even those who have not taken to Lanthimos' previous works could very likely be impressed by this one.

Review: At Eternity's Gate

Image courtesy of CBS Films.

Less concerned with its subject's life story and more focused on his philosophy and process as an artist, Julian Schnabel's "At Eternity's Gate" is the umpteenth picture to focus on tortured artist Vincent Van Gogh, but it's unique in its own right. While other films focused more on the biographical elements ("Lust for Life" and the gorgeously animated "Loving Vincent") of the artist's life or his relationship with his brother ("Vincent and Theo"), Schnabel's film feels more like an impressionistic series of episodic sketches of Van Gogh (played wonderfully by Willem Dafoe) as he explores his artistic voice.

Schnabel has long been a chronicler of artists, from Basquiat to Reinaldo Arenas, so it seems long overdue that he would tackle Van Gogh. And thankfully, his story has not been reduced to that of a tragic man who cut off his ear. The film is an intimate portrait of an artist as an older man, and when Van Gogh is not seen wandering amid visually stunning vistas or tall grass blowing in the wind, he is portrayed in close up. Schnabel's camera often gets uncomfortably close to the film's performers, so that every line on their faces is crystal clear.

There's also an interesting discussion late in the film between Van Gogh and a priest (Mads Mikkelsen) in which the artist seems to realize that he, perhaps, is not made for the world of man and conceives that his work has been produced for a later period, when people might better appreciate it.

In the film, Van Gogh is a man mostly left alone in a small town where he creates his work. His friend Paul Gauguin (Oscar Isaac) occasionally visits, but can't deal with the isolation, and brother Theo (Rupert Friend) mostly attempts to sell Vincent's work from afar. Otherwise, he is an outcast who is unloved by the townsfolk who surround him, taunted by local children and occasionally attacked.

Although the film is more interested in Van Gogh's process, his mind state is not ignored. In the film's only minor stumble, we often hear lines of dialogue repeated twice in a row - once by the actors and a second time in Vincent's head, providing a sense of his growing madness. In my opinion, Schnabel is able to better represent the artist's psychoses visually through his claustrophobic camerawork and, therefore, the repetitive dialogue doesn't provide much of a purpose.

Otherwise, "At Eternity's Gate" is an interesting take on Van Gogh. Dafoe, one of the world's most adventurous actors, gives a powerful performance as the great artist, and the film's best moments occur when he is set against a gorgeous backdrop, awed and in admiration of nature's wonders. Schnabel is a talented artist whose work is often fixated on other artists. But with "At Eternity's Gate," the director takes a unique approach by focusing less on the artist himself and more on the process and the work.

Review: Happy As Lazzaro

Image courtesy of Netflix.

Alice Rohrwacher's beguiling fable "Happy as Lazzaro" joins the pantheon of movies that successfully play with the concept of time. It's an unusual movie that combines Italian neorealism with an enigmatic second half that takes on the form of a fairy tale, albeit a tragic one.

As the film opens, it's difficult to tell in which era the picture is taking place. A group of Italian peasants are celebrating the engagement of a young couple in a dimly lit shack, where dozens of them are crowded in a circle. Lazzaro (Adriano Tardiolo), a young man from the group who seemingly has no family, is called upon to do all manner of tasks. As the film's first half continues, we recognize that the young man - who is portrayed as an innocent - willfully takes on any work that his fellow peasants throw his way.

The group lives on the property of the Marchesa (Nicoletta Braschi), who is known as the "Queen of Cigarettes. They are exploited and barely paid for their work. Although the film is seemingly interested in the Italian class divide, the Marchesa makes an interesting point when she notes that she exploits the workers and, in turn, the workers exploit Lazzaro. It's a vicious cycle, although innocent Lazzaro probably doesn't notice such things.

Lazzaro befriends the Marchesa's scheming son, Tancredi (Luca Chikovani), who tasks Lazzaro with making him coffee and carrying his pet dog, but eventually attempts to rope him into a fake kidnapping plot, to which Lazzaro reluctantly agrees. All the while, the Marchesa's operation has been shut down, and the peasants are forced to leave. A freak accident then occurs and Lazzaro lives up to his biblical name.

During the film's second half, Lazzaro has ventured into a city, where he finds the peasants - who are in a slightly altered state, shall we say, for the purpose of not giving away the film's peculiar twist - living a ramshackle existence and pulling scams on unsuspecting people on the street. Lazzaro, although seemingly confused about the scams, joins the group and, shortly thereafter, runs into Tancredi, who invites the group to his house. The film ends on a tragic note, but also one that emphasizes the movie's parable-like nature.

At times, "Happy as Lazzaro" reminded me of such classics as Robert Bresson's "Au Hazard Balthazar," in which a donkey was portrayed as a saint amid a group of rogues, and Rainer Werner Fassbinder's "Fox and His Friends," in which the titular character is left for dead after he has been literally taken for everything he has. Similarly, "Lazzaro" is a film that ponders how a pure soul can survive in a world ruled by greed and cruelty. 

Rohrwacher's film also has a distinctly mystical nature to it. You can't rationalize large parts of the movie, but it marches to its own enigmatic drum. The film surprises at its every turn - you can sort of spot where it's going at times, but you'll be clueless as to how it will get there. It's a mysterious film that worked a strange magic on me.

Review: Wildlife

Image courtesy of IFC Films.

Paul Dano makes an impressive directorial debut with this bleak, but visually stunning, adaptation of Richard Ford's book about a Montana family that comes undone in the early 1960s. One of the elements that makes the picture particularly compelling is that this undoing results from the actions of both parents (played by Carey Mulligan and Jake Gylenhaal), but neither one is necessarily cast as the villain, despite both characters having their share of flaws.

The story told is from the perspective of Joe (Ed Oxenbould), a wide eyed and mild mannered teenager who is struggling to get accustomed to the Montana high school where is a relatively new student. He pretends to enjoy playing on the football team, mostly for his father's sake, but spends most of his time on the bench and doesn't seem to share any camaraderie with the other players.

Jerry (Gylenhaal) describes himself as a personable man who is able to win folks over by his repartee. However, as the film opens, he is fired from his job as a golf pro for, perhaps, engaging in too much chatter, and is clearly embarrassed by losing his job in front of his son. In a rare moment of unbelievability, Jerry is given the opportunity to return to work at the golf course, but his pride dictates that he turn it down.

Up to this point, the Brinsons' family dynamic appeared to be relatively stable: Jerry is the breadwinner whose bluster helps him to feed the family, while Jeanette (Mulligan) is the quietly supportive housewife you'd expect in that era and Joe is the shy, obedient son. But as Jerry becomes less inclined to find a job - and soon opts instead to leave the family home to help combat out-of-control wildfires in another part of the state for a measly pittance - the family begins to unravel.

Jeanette begins giving swimming lessons at the local YMCA and claims to have other job opportunities, which Joe - who has taken a part-time job at a photography studio - starts to find suspicious. Then, she befriends a wealthy older man named Miller (Bill Camp) and their relationship sets off alarm bells for Jerry, who uncomfortably observes how his mother's flirtation with Miller quickly becomes something more involved.

While Oxenbould gives a wonderfully restrained performance and Gyllenhaal provides excellent supporting work, "Wildlife" belongs to Mulligan, who portrays Jeanette as a woman who has been stuck in a difficult situation and wants something for herself, regardless of the consequences. The filmmakers are smart not to demonize Jeanette, despite one particularly awkward sequence that should be a bad parenting case study. She and Jerry both share some blame in the disaster that falls upon their family.

Dano has long been among the more interesting actors of his generation - hell, he held his own against Daniel Day Lewis - and with his directorial debut, he proves to be a talent behind the camera. "Wildlife" has much to recommend - its terrific trio of performances, the absolutely stunning use of Montana as a backdrop and strong direction - and I hope that the actor takes another shot at filmmaking in the future.

Review: The House That Jack Built

Image courtesy of IFC Films.

Lars Von Trier's provocative "The House That Jack Built," which inspired mass walkouts at this year's Cannes Film Festival, may not be one of the director's best films - although it is good and well worth viewing for those who can stomach it - but it's certainly the one that, perhaps, can best summarize the Danish enfant terrible's body of work. More so than any other film in his oeuvre, "House" is a film that is undoubtedly about Lars Von Trier.

The picture tells the story of a prolific serial killer named Jack - who goes by the moniker "Mr. Sophistication" - as he murders his way through some unknown spot in America during the 1970s. As the film opens, Jack is making some sort of confession to an unseen man named Virgil - yes, you can start your assumptions now - who is voiced, and later played, by the great Bruno Ganz. Jack is relaying his history of carnage and summarizes his career with five "incidents," which become more grueling as they go along.

But before I go further into that, I should mention that Jack views himself as an artist, of sorts. As a result, his descriptions of murder are often intertwined with his thoughts on art, morality and violence, incorporating clips of Glenn Gould playing the piano, the work of various architects, William Blake's poetry, images from Nazi concentration camps and even several of Von Trier's films (of which clips are readily available). On the other hand, Von Trier's use of music - primarily a repetition of David Bowie's "Fame" and Ray Charles' "Hit the Road, Jack" - are a little too on the nose.

In the first "incident," Jack picks up a woman (Uma Thurman) whose car has broken down. Despite the violence in which it culminates, this chapter is the most humorous (the picture is often surprisingly funny, despite its grim story) as Thurman's character first suggests that Jack, who has yet to begin killing people, comes off as a serial killer and torments him that he's too much of a "wimp" to ever be such a thing.

The second incident finds Jack somewhat hilariously attempting to talk his way into the home of another woman (Siobhan Fallon Hogan), whose demise is slightly more unsettling than the first. However, Von Trier uses this incident for one of the picture's most deliriously absurd sequences as Jack, who has described himself as having OCD, obsesses whether he cleaned up the blood from the woman's house, only to return to it again and again to make sure and, as a result, bluffs his way through a conversation with a police officer at the scene.

The third and fourth incidents are extremely disturbing. In the third, Jack takes a mother and her two young sons out for a hunting lesson that quickly turns grim, ending with a particularly haunting image as Jack sculpts one of his victim's faces to look like Heath Ledger's Joker character. But those put off by the third chapter might not make it through the fourth, as Jack taunts a woman whom he refers to as "Simple" (Riley Keough), and whom he is likely dating, before performing a horrific act of violence (which made me partially shield my eyes) against her. If the third incident was grimly effective, the fourth is the one that tests the boundaries and, to an extent, made me question whether the film suffers as a result.

The final incident appears to have been inspired by the "Human Centipede" movies (although less icky) as Jack lines up a group of men in a storage freezer with their heads together, with the intention of using one bullet to take them all out. It is around this point that Virgil steps in, and the film culminates with an odd, but strangely compelling, sequence inspired by the "Divine Comedy."

Von Trier's films have long focused on human suffering, and critics have often noted how he tortures his lead female characters - Bjork in "Dancer in the Dark," Emily Watson in "Breaking the Waves" and Nicole Kidman in "Dogville" - and turns them into martyrs. In his latest film, which he has indicated might be his last, the lead character is a man who literally tortures women, which is a small indication of how the picture is a summation - and explanation by the director - of his career. In the film's nastiest chapter, Jack's character performs a Von Trier-self critique by asking the audience why women are always the "victims."

Career analysis can be found throughout the movie. In the first chapter, Thurman's character dares Jack to do something horrible, and by the second chapter he has taken to obsessing over his perfectionism. In the third and fourth chapters, his character has sunk into depravity and, in the fifth, he realizes that he can no longer top himself. "Don't look at the acts, look at the works," Jack tells Virgil during one telling sequence. In the finale, Jack finds himself defending his body of work to Virgil - only, in this film, both characters represent Von Trier. One is the provocateur and the other is the conscience.

Interestingly enough, three of Von Trier's four most recent films have dealt, in some form or fashion, with depression. The shocking "Antichrist" was about succumbing to a deep, dark depression, while "Melancholia" - his masterpiece, in my opinion - is about making peace with it. "The House That Jack Built" rationalizes it, to an extent, although its final shot could be deemed troubling, considering the context.

Regardless, Von Trier's film is one that is often fascinating to ponder, and while it doesn't rank with his finest films ("Melancholia," "Breaking the Waves," "Dogville" and "Dancer in the Dark"), the film has its share of impressive sequences, some gorgeous and haunting images and solid performances. It also leaves the viewer with much to chew on. It's well worth a look, for those who can handle material that is occasionally traumatizing.

Review: Border

Image courtesy of Neon.

Deformed babies. Maggot eating. A pedophile ring. Troll sex (no, seriously). Suffice it to say that Ali Abbasi's peculiar and committed "Border" has something for everyone. The picture made a splash at the Cannes Film Festival this year, and critics appeared to take some delight in its outlandishness. But while its leading lady, Eva Melander (under seemingly pounds of makeup), gives a sterling performance and the movie wears its outrageousness as a badge of honor, the film never quite grabbed me the way it did others.

Still, there's a fair amount to praise in this oddly original fairy tale, starting with Melander, who gives an almost feral performance as Tina, a border security patrolwoman whose heightened senses - namely, her sense of smell - enables her to sniff out ne'er-do-wells attempting to sneak contraband items, from drugs to child pornography, across the border.

Aside from this odd ability to sniff out crime, we get the sense that there's something a little off about Tina from the large scar running up her back to her heavy brows, snaggleteeth and puffy face. One day, she meets a man named Vore (Eero Milonoff) bearing similarly distorted features, only he wears his proudly as opposed to a mask to hide behind as Tina tends to do. At first, Tina appears to be suspicious of Vore, and a full-body search leads to some shocking discoveries.

But her curiosity surrounding this man with a similarly misshapen face leads Tina to begin snooping around and, eventually, spending time with Vore. This all leads to one of the stranger sex scenes in recent memory as well as a subplot in which Tina works with law enforcement officials to root out a child porn ring.

While Melander's performance carries the day here, one of my issues with the movie is how the filmmakers sensationalize the characters' deformities. Not only that, but it equates their outward appearances with freakish behavior - Vore feeding maggots to Tina, for instance, or... well, don't get me started on what Vore keeps in his refrigerator.

There is, on the other hand, something to be said for the film's insistence that its two leads' outlandish behavior is no worse than its, for lack of a better phrase, normal humans - and I italicize that word for a reason you'll understand once you see the film. There's Tina's creep of a roommate who not only takes advantage of her kindness, but also attempts to force himself on her when he's drunk. Then, of course, there are the horrific people involved in the child sex tape ring that Tina helps to investigate. So, in this sense, the film nearly redeems its obsession with Tina and Vore's appearances through its concept that seemingly outward normalcy doesn't necessarily equal good intentions.

"Border" is a unique picture with a solid lead performance that injects some life into a film that seemingly traffics in drab scenery - with the exception of Tina and Vore's visits to the woods - on purpose. It is occasionally squirm inducing, but also suspenseful. In terms of a genre film - it's a strange romance-horror hybrid - it scores points for originality, even if it didn't always work for me.

Review: Green Book

Image courtesy of Universal Pictures.

"Green Book" proves that a time-worn formula can still feel fresh with the right casting - in this case, Mahershala Ali and Viggo Mortensen, who proves himself to be a surprisingly able comedic performer. The film has all the makings of Oscar bait - a true story about a black musician (Ali) traveling through the deep south in the 1960s with a white man with backwards views and the eventual bond that is formed between them - but it manages to rise above such categorization due to the camaraderie of its leading men.

The film, which is set in 1962, opens with Tony Lip (Mortensen) working as a bouncer at a nightclub somewhere near his home in the Bronx. When the establishment closes temporarily, Tony finds himself in need of work and takes a gig as the chauffeur for Dr. Don Shirley (Ali), a pianist whose refinement is stark in contrast to Tony's working class background and self-proclaimed bullshit artistry. An early scene in which Tony throws away two glasses from which black men working on his home had been sipping is an indicator that the road trip concert tour will be fraught with tension.

And it often is, although much of that tension exists when the two men travel through such states as North Carolina, Alabama, Louisiana and other southern locales where they, not shockingly, come face to face with racism. Tony, on the other hand, attempts to display professionalism and, during the course of the trip, eventually comes to respect Shirley, both for his talent and his attempts to change the hearts and minds of people who are nakedly racist.

The road getting there is often hilarious. Who knew that Mortensen was such a gifted comedic actor? Some of this year's funniest lines and line readings belong to him, and Ali is a great foil for Tony Lip's blockbuster pronouncements of inanity. My personal favorite is his complete misread of one of Shirley's albums, which is centered around the story of Orpheus, although his butchering of a famous JFK quotable comes in a close second.

The film's title refers to a travel guide that, at the time, made note of restaurants and hotels that were friendly to African Americans in the United States. During the trip, Tony often stays at a white hotel, while Shirley - although he is the musician and Tony is the chauffeur - stays at more run-down spots, simply due to the color of his skin.

It's also somewhat of a relief that Tony and Shirley end up relying on each other, rather than one doing all the heavy lifting for the other. During one particularly risky moment, Tony saves Shirley from the police, while Shirley helps Tony become more refined, from his personal behavior to the letters he writes to his wife (Linda Cardellini). The relationship between the two men is mutually beneficial and, as a result, Tony does not become the white savior and Shirley is not, as Spike Lee once dubbed it, the "magical negro."

On the one hand, it's easy to see where the story is going, right down to a finale that called to mind "Planes, Trains and Automobiles," of all things. On the other hand, director Peter Farrelly (yes, that Peter Farrelly, of "There's Something About Mary" fame), directs the picture with aplomb, the writing is snappy and Ali and Mortensen are both superb. Yes, you could call "Green Book" a feel-good movie, a crowd pleaser, etc., but it's a film that earns the title. It's highly enjoyable and a great showcase for its two leading men.

Review: The Ballad Of Buster Scruggs

Image courtesy of Netflix.

Upon first glance, one might believe that "The Ballad of Buster Scruggs," which started as a miniseries before being released in anthology film form via Netflix, is a Coen Brothers lark - more of a "Hail, Caesar!," which I thought was great by the way, than one of the duo's darker, more serious pictures.

And while viewing the film's first of six stories, the titular tale of a singing gunslinger, it's easy to be led astray due to that story's wacky aura and believe that "Buster Scruggs" is going to be one of the Coens' lighter affairs. It's not until the sixth and final story that one realizes there has been a consistent theme all along. In that final, enigmatic chapter, a character spells out a lesson that the titular character in the first chapter failed to learn: "We each have a life that is our own. We must spin our own wheel and play our own hand."

In the first story, Buster Scruggs (Tim Blake Nelson) is a cheerful sociopath who sings - and shoots - his way through the Old West. This chapter is easily the most comedic, but also the bloodiest. It's the tale of an iconic outlaw who learns that being such a figure can only last so long. The second story, "Near Algodones," is one in which the Coens go heavy on the irony as James Franco's hapless bank robber nearly escapes a hanging following a robbery, only to find himself in another rotten situation due to bad luck.

"Meal Ticket," the film's third story, is the darkest and bleakest of the bunch. Liam Neeson plays a hard drinking traveling showman who lugs around an armless, legless young man (Harry Melling), who performs soliloquies and famous speeches, kicking off each performance with Percy Bysshe Shelley's "Ozymandias": "Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair." The film takes a brief comedic turn when Neeson's character witnesses another performer - of the avian persuasion - that draws larger crowds, but quickly becomes grim when he is faced with a ruthless business decision.

The fourth episode, "All Gold Canyon," is an oddly cheerful - well, mostly - tale of a prospector (Tom Waits, who has shockingly never worked with the Coens before) searching for gold, and whose excitement appears to revolve around the process itself, rather than the accumulation of the object he seeks.

The fifth episode is the longest - and saddest. "The Gal Who Got Rattled" tells the story of a young woman (a terrific Zoe Kazan) and her ailing brother who are seeking a new life by following the Oregon Trail. After her brother dies, the kindly leader of the caravan (Bill Heck) proposes a solution to her woes. Without going into much detail, this story starts with a hilarious dinner table conversation, involves a surprisingly potent romance, makes the best use of an animal since "Inside Llewyn Davis" and, ultimately, culminates with a shootout and a tragedy.

The final episode, "The Mortal Remains," is an enigmatic coda that involves two bounty hunters (Brendan Gleeson and Jongo O'Neill) traveling in a stagecoach with a frumpy older woman, a Frenchman and a kooky trapper. O'Neill's character discusses how he often lures his victims with a story, while Gleeson's character "thumps" them, and how he enjoys looking into men's eyes to see how they negotiate the border of life and death. Upon being asked if any of the victims were able to do such a thing, he responds, "I don't know. I'm only watching."

Although this final segment is one of the shortest and is light on story, it is also the chapter that ties all of the others together. O'Neill tells the stagecoach passengers that people like stories, and that most of the ones people hear include elements to which they can relate, but at the same time are not really about them. When one of the characters appears to be having some sort of physical ailment, the characters in the stagecoach call for the coachman to stop, but the coach - much like life itself - must continue to move forward.

Each of the characters in the film's six stories face uncertainty - and as one character indicates, the only certainty that everyone, including several characters in the picture, faces is death. The only thing one can do is play the cards that one is dealt. This includes Buster Scruggs, who tries to back out of a card game after literally being dealt a bad hand, but it also applies to Franco's bank robber, Neeson's unscrupulous showman, Waits' prospector, the caravan of characters heading to Oregon and the stagecoach passengers.

"The Ballad of Buster Scruggs" is a gorgeously shot picture - in fact, I'd say it's one of the Coens' most visual films to date - with a remarkable attention to period detail. One might argue that, tonally, it's a little all over the map, but I'm not sure I'd agree. As usual, the Coens' mordant humor is on display, but the manner in which the stories are presented - two violent but comedic ones first, an unbearably dark one third, a fourth that defies tone altogether, a heartbreaking fifth entry and a mysterious finale that exists in the same universe as "A Serious Man" - makes the case that the film is anything but a hodgepodge.

In typical Coen fashion, the brothers set expectations early on, only to defy them again and again. In other words, this is a film that sneaks up on you and forces you to rethink its structure and concepts long after the viewing experience is over. It's one of the best movies I've seen this year and further proof that the Coens can take any setup - in this case, the anthology - and make it fascinating.

Reviews: Widows

Image courtesy of Twentieth Century Fox.

"Widows" is not your typical heist movie - but then again, Steve McQueen, the director of the great "12 Years a Slave" and "Hunger," might not be the first filmmaker to come to mind regarding that type of genre exercise. Don't get me wrong, "Widows" is a pulse pounding action movie indeed, but its director's sensibilities are, thankfully, on full display here. Yes, the film involves a heist carried out by a group of characters with distinct personalities, but the picture is just as focused on themes of race, corruption and societal inequality, all the while feeling of the moment, especially considering the rise of the #MeToo movement.

The film opens with a daring heist gone wrong, in which lifelong criminal Harry Rawlings (Liam Neeson) and his partners appear to be killed after stealing millions of dollars from a criminal turned wannabe politician, Jamal Manning (Brian Tyree Henry), and his brutal sidekick and brother Jatemme (Daniel Kaluuya), who enjoys tormenting his victims before killing them.

The heist may or may not also involve another shady politico, Jack Mulligan (Colin Farrell), whose father - surly and racist Tom (Robert Duvall) - was the long-time representative in the Chicago neighborhood where the film is mostly set. As the movie opens, Jack is falling in the polls, while Manning appears to be getting a boost, some of which can be attributed to his wooing of a slightly shady pastor.

Following the heist's failure, Harry's wife, Veronica (Viola Davis), is left grieving and also in danger after the Mannings pay her a visit and threaten to hurt her if she doesn't fork over the money that her husband and his crew stole. Veronica knows that Harry kept a notebook that included details of his previous and future heists, so she gets the idea to enlist the widows of the other men in Harry's crew to carry out his next heist for $5 million, several of which will be used to pay back the Mannings and the rest will be split evenly.

The women include Linda (Michelle Rodriguez), whose husband provided the money for the store she operates. She has now been left out in the cold by his family, who blame her for his death. There's also Alice (Elizabeth Debicki), a tall blonde woman of Polish descent who doesn't exactly seem broken up by the death of her abusive husband (Jon Bernthal), but more concerned that her nasty mother (Jacki Weaver) is attempting to push her into prostitution to make money. Alice becomes the paid date for a wealthy businessman (Lukas Haas), whose detachment unnerves her. Lastly, Linda recruits Belle (Cynthia Erivo, last seen at "Bad Times at the El Royale"), a hairdresser who loves to jog and whom Veronica assigns to be the getaway driver.

"Widows" is an exciting thriller - especially during every scene in which Jatemme wreaks havoc on his unsuspecting victims, from a wheelchair-bound bowling alley owner to two men who screw up a surveillance gig and are forced to freestyle as Jatemme looks on menacingly. The heist itself is a feat of great action moviemaking, which might come as a surprise, considering that McQueen's previous work is more avant garde ("Hunger") or arthouse ("Shame" and "12 Years a Slave") by nature.

However, it's not surprising to see the director give the picture more depth than you might expect from such a genre exercise. One particularly well-thought-out shot involves Farrell's smarmy politician having a conversation with his wife in a limousine about his campaign. But we only hear them talk as the camera focuses on the front of the limousine as it travels from the downtrodden neighborhood where the politician is holding a rally to his more luxurious abode, juxtaposing the have-nots whom Jack is supposed to represent with his posh reality.

During another sequence, Jatemme trails someone in his vehicle, listening to a radio report about Alfred Woodfox, a real-life black prisoner who spent 43 years in solitary confinement. There's also a grueling scene in which a young black man is shot by a policeman that plays a heavy role in the relationship between two of the film's characters. All of these sequences provide thematic weight to the proceedings, but without ever coming across as heavy handed.

Meanwhile, the film's timing is noteworthy. The four women involved in the heist have been given the short end of the stick by men - Veronica, for reasons I won't discuss so as not to give away plot points; Alice was abused by her husband and treated as an object by men; Linda was at her husband's mercy for money; and Belle makes no mention of any men, but she is a single mother working multiple jobs. "Widows" is doubly powerful in that it portrays tough women getting by without the help of men and taking part in an action-oriented story that is typically reserved for male actors. During one scene, Kaluuya's character is listening to a radio broadcast, in which a man proclaims that "nothing you do is gonna change your situation." But "Widows" is a thrilling, socially conscious action movie about four women who take action to do just that.

Review: Can You Ever Forgive Me?

Image courtesy of Fox Searchlight Pictures.

Melissa McCarthy veers away from the slapstick comedies in which she typically stars and gives a terrific leading performance in Marielle Heller's "Can You Ever Forgive Me?," which chronicles the true life saga of Lee Israel, an author whose career was on the skids circa 1991 and, in an effort to drum up some cash, began forging letters from such famous figures as Fanny Brice, Noel Coward and Dorothy Parker.

Israel is portrayed as a sad sack when we first meet her, drinking on the job at a low-level paying gig as her literary career, overseen by a not-so-encouraging agent, takes a downslide. Regardless, Israel's biting tongue makes her a pleasure to watch. When a young woman pleads with another to "kill her" if she finds herself in Israel's circumstances at that age, Israel offers to help with the process.

Although she dreams of focusing on her own creative writing, Israel specializes in writing other people's stories - biographies that her agent tells her are not in demand. Israel spends her day sulking with her beloved cat or drinking the day away in a bar with newfound friend Jack (a delightfully droll Richard E. Grant), an aging gay lothario who seems to be sleeping his way through Manhattan.

One day, while researching Brice for a biography that she's writing, Israel stumbles upon an old letter written by that comedienne, takes it to a collector and makes a decent amount of money for it. A light turns on in her head, and Israel begins forging fake - but convincing - letters from literary figures, movie stars and other famous people of yesteryear and selling them for increasingly higher prices - that is, until the FBI begins snooping around.

Heller's previous film was "The Diary of a Teenage Girl," which I liked, although I enjoyed her latest picture even more. Her work, so far, has focused on intriguing, but flawed, female characters with whom we are able to relate, despite their penchant for taking part in self destructive and vindictive behavior. And the film is at its best when focusing on the friendship between Israel and Jack. They're a match made in, well, purgatory, but their bizarre love-hate relationship and witty repartee is in turns humorous and heartbreaking.

McCarthy really shines here as Israel, and it's a performance that I'm hoping will lead to more of its type for the actress, rather than the typically silly comedies for which she's known. She really digs into the role and makes Israel a character with whom we can sympathize, despite her cantankerous personality and occasional criminal behavior. "Can You Ever Forgive Me?" is well worth seeing.

Review: The Girl In The Spider's Web

Image courtesy of Columbia Pictures.

Claire Foy slips easily into the role of Lisbeth Salander, the Swedish hacker and avenging angel for women abused by men, in "The Girl in the Spider's Web," which is based on the novel by David Lagercrantz that picks up the story from Stieg Larsson's original trilogy. It's too bad that this fourth entry in the series - which has been split up between American and Swedish adaptations - is the weakest film in this franchise to date.

The original "Girl" films were entertaining, if occasionally improbable, thrillers that followed the exploits of the tattooed Salander and her friend and occasional lover, journalist Mikael Blomkvist (played here by Sverrir Gudnason). In this latest entry, Salander is seemingly a full-time vigilante. At the film's beginning, we see her freeing the wife of an abusive business magnate. Prior to that, there's a prelude in which young Lisbeth frees herself from her sexually abusive criminal father, leaving her sister behind.

The plot in "Spider's Web" is semi-convoluted and involves some sort of weapons system that Lisbeth has stolen from the Americans to give back to the scientist (Stephen Merchant) who invented it, only to have it then stolen from her by her sister - who, as it turns out, is not only not dead, but has taken over their father's dirty business - and find herself being trailed by an American NSA worker and former marine (LaKeith Stanfield).

After nearly being killed herself, Lisbeth ends up becoming the caretaker for the scientist's young son, whose ability to understand the codes for the weapons program stretches the imagination slightly, and teaming up with Mikael and Stanfield's Needham to prevent it from falling into the hands of her sister and her cronies. Meanwhile, in a somewhat tired thriller plot line, Salander herself becomes the principal suspect in a series of killings relating to the theft of the weapons system.

Foy makes a convincing Salander, but one of the film's problems is that it completely dials down many of the elements that made her intriguing, such as her bottled up rage and proclivity towards bisexuality. Instead, here she is closer to a Wonder Woman action star, rather than a crusader against a misogynistic society.

Don't get me wrong, it's great that Hollywood is now banking on female action movies, but Salander's character has always been more interesting than someone who just totes a gun. "Spider's Web" isn't a bad movie, just a missed opportunity.

Review: The Other Side Of The Wind

Image courtesy of Netflix.

Bringing Orson Welles' final film, "The Other Side of the Wind," to the screen was a herculean task that has taken 48 years to complete. Although not nearly as difficult, reviewing the film in an adequate manner presents its own challenges.

In his final picture - which he shot between 1970 and 1976, only to languish in various locales around the world before being assembled and edited together, thanks to Netflix, Frank Marshall and various others - Welles appears to be taking a page from Jean Luc Godard's book. There is a Godardian quote at one point in the picture when a character poses the question, "Is the camera eye a reflection of reality or is reality a reflection of the camera eye?" Much like Godard's later work, Welles appears disinterested in telling a linear narrative story here, and the picture often feels as if he is, as the British might say, "taking the piss."

This is not to say that "The Other Side of the Wind" is anything less than beguiling. And maddening. The film kicks off with a voiceover by director Peter Bogdanovich, who notes that the proceedings are set on the 70th birthday of Jake Hannaford (played here acerbically by legendary filmmaker John Huston, whose character might be a stand-in for Welles), who is in the process of putting together a film that has left his collaborators and studio bosses scratching their heads. We first meet him as he wraps up filming a decadent nudie scene.

Bogdanovich - who plays Hannaford's protege and right-hand man - is among the many classic Hollywood figures who pop up in small roles in the picture. Others include Huston, Dennis Hopper, Susan Strasberg, Mercedes McCambridge, Henry Jaglom, Claude Chabrol, Edmond O'Brien, Paul Stewart and Paul Mazursky. Hannaford's birthday party is populated by friends, well wishers, enemies, critics, studio heads, groupies, academics, spies and journalists chronicling the director's life. But Hannaford's intention is to brush them off, occasionally shock them and, during one scene, get physically violent. At one point, he gets bored and begins firing a rifle at some mannequins during his party.

These scenes - most of which are in black and white and have a jarring handheld, cinema verite style - are intercut with sequences from Hannaford's movie, which appears to be some sort of parody of Antonioni's late 1960s, early 1970s output, namely "Zabriskie Point." In that film, a mostly nude Native American woman (played mostly silently by Croatia's Oja Kodar, Welles' paramour at the time and the film's co-writer) stalks a young man on a motorcycle (Robert Random), who eventually walks off Hannaford's set after being forced to engage in a peculiar sex scene involving a pair of scissors.

While the party scenes give off a caustic vibe, the scenes from Hannaford's film are purposefully ludicrous and visually stunning. There's a dreamlike, near out-of-body sequence involving two people having sex in a moving car during a rainstorm that is preceded by a trippy, psychedelic sequence at a rock 'n' roll venue. And there's another gorgeously shot scene in which Kodar walks in slow motion through a bathroom as the people hiding behind the stalls observe her.

But while the film fixates - some might argue to an uncomfortable degree - on the naked female form, it does so to the point of parody, and Welles' film feels like a strangely timely take on toxic masculinity in Hollywood. The film is, at times, exhilarating, tedious, visually stunning, chaotic and bursting with ideas.

It's also not an easy sit - and certainly deserves a second viewing at some point - and one that I would not rank among Welles' best ("Citizen Kane," "The Magnificent Ambersons" and "Touch of Evil"), although such comparisons are unfair. Welles is one of cinema's greatest pioneers and this oddball artifact, which has thankfully been saved from obscurity, is a fascinating coda to his career. Film enthusiasts won't want to miss it for the world.

Review: Suspiria

Image courtesy of Amazon Studios.

Much more of an homage than a remake, Luca Guadagnino's reimagining of Dario Argento's 1977 horror masterpiece "Suspiria" is a bit too long, extremely violent, much more visually muted than the colorful original, extremely odd, ambitious and, in its final moments, deliriously over the top. It's a film that I'd recommend, although the picture is meant to be divisive and one's enjoyment of it might depend on whether one buys the historical context that was missing in Argento's original film, but is ever-present here.

Clocking in at two-and-a-half hours, "Suspiria" takes some patience. At the film's beginning, we are told that the picture will present "Six Acts and an Epilogue in Divided Germany." While Argento's garish original film was marked by its frequent, brightly colored splashes of blood, Guadagnino's version has a muted visual style that recalls the work of Rainer Werner Fassbender.

It also includes a political and historical context - and, perhaps, a questionable one - that was nowhere to be found in the original. For starters, the ballerina school in which this new version is set is located directly across from the Berlin Wall, which the filmmakers mistakenly believe acts as some sort of statement by sheer inclusion alone.

But there's also an elderly man named Dr. Josef Klemperer (I'll allow you to be surprised to see who plays this part) who acts as the film's detective, and once lost a wife to the Nazis after he failed to act years before and flee the country in time. And the filmmakers make a curious choice of allowing the exploits of the notorious Baader Meinhof Complex, a left wing terrorist organization, to play out in news reports in the background. What exactly, you might ask, is the purpose of all this context in a film about a coven of witches running a ballet school for sinister reasons? The film only occasionally provides answers.

The characters' names are mostly similar to those of the original. Dakota Johnson fills in for Jessica Harper - who makes a cameo here - in the role of Susie Bannion, a former Mennonite with an abusive mother whose talents catch the attention of the school's visionary leader, Madame Blanc (Tilda Swinton), during a rehearsal. Soon, Susie has become the lead dancer in "Volk," a frenetic piece created by Blanc in 1948 that is going through the rehearsal stages for its final performance.

Meanwhile, Kemperer is investigating the disappearance of Patricia (Chloe Grace Moretz) - a ballerina whom we meet in the film's opening chapter before she disappears. Patricia is believed to have gotten mixed up with Baader Meinhof, although Kemperer is skeptical. Patricia previously had the lead in "Volk," and as the film opens she is trying to convince the elderly man that the ballet school's teachers are all witches who have menacing designs on Patricia.

While "Suspiria" often takes too long getting to where it is going, it casts a creepy spell and is filled with stunning - and occasionally shocking - imagery: a woman floating up a wall, psychedelic nightmares, intestines being pulled from a stomach and a Grand Guignol ending that would be at home in a work by Hieronymus Bosch. There's a particularly grueling sequence during which Susie's dance moves are, for reasons mostly left to the imagination, the cause of another young dancer's body being twisted and snapped into a pretzel beyond her control.

While the filmmakers' choices - from the political and historical context to the meaning behind the wild finale - are somewhat mysterious, it seems obvious that this new "Suspiria" is fixated on the perversion of power. At the ballet school, the teachers are using the bodies of the young women for nefarious purposes, and there's a line of some thematic interest spoken to Kemperer - regarding his wife's failed attempt to flee from Nazi-occupied Germany - about believing a woman when she tells you that she's in danger.

Although the purpose behind some of the film's choices remain obscured, "Suspiria" is a mostly bewitching homage to Argento's nightmarish original. As is typically the case, it is not as good as the original, but it's a worthy attempt to capture the ambience of that Italian director's oeuvre. And it also serves as a noteworthy break from the high-minded arthouse films one would typically expect from Guadagnino - such as "I Am Love" and last year's wonderful "Call Me By Your Name" - to allow the director to engage in some genre exploration. Overall, "Suspiria" casts an imperfect, but unsettling, spell.

Review: Beautiful Boy

Image courtesy of Amazon Studios.

Based on the books "Beautiful Boy" by David Sheff (portrayed here by Steve Carell) and "Tweak" by Nic Sheff, David's son (portrayed by Timothee Chalamet), Felix van Groeningen's "Beautiful Boy" is a decently made and well acted portrayal of drug addiction. Its emotional potency and visual palettes often feel muted and the picture occasionally relies on cliched cinematic depictions of drug addiction, but the film's strongpoint is its wrenching portrayal of the helplessness of a parent whose child abuses hard drugs.

In the film, David Sheff, a successful freelance writer for such publications as Rolling Stone and The New York Times, views his son, Nic, as special, much like most parents do their own children. So, it remains an enigma to David how sensitive Nic, who had shown promise as a writer in his late teens, becomes addicted to a garden variety of drugs - the most worrisome of which is crystal meth.

Much of the picture is told from David's point of view, although his ex-wife, Vicki (Amy Ryan), and current wife, Karen (Maura Tierney), share in his quest to attempt to save Nic. The film occasionally tells the story from Nic's perspective - but while Chalamet does a solid job of portraying a soul wasting away from drug addiction, his character is given the shortest end of the stick. We never know quite why Nic has made the choices he has made, other than that he likes the feeling of being high.

The movie jumps around in time a fair amount and this, to an extent, mutes its emotional impact. It also uses a meeting between David and a doctor (Timothy Hutton) as a framing device, but it's unclear why the filmmakers chose to do so. The film's soundtrack makes some inspired choices (Nirvana's "Territorial Pissings"), some odd ones ("Sunrise, Sunset") and others that are a little too obvious ("Beautiful Boy" and "Heart of Gold").

But what ultimately saves "Beautiful Boy" from being yet another drug addiction drama of the week is Carell's powerful lead performance - which occasionally takes emotional turns that are surprising due to the character's otherwise measured persona - and Chalamet's supporting work. The film's strongest attribute, however, is the degree to which it successfully portrays the personal hell of being a parent with a drug addicted child and the powerlessness and ups and downs - from hopefulness to hopelessness - that come with such a role. The film may have its flaws, but when it's working, it has a powerful effect.

Review: Bohemian Rhapsody

Image courtesy of Twentieth Century Fox.

There's been a fair amount of criticism of Bryan Singer's "Bohemian Rhapsody," which chronicles the story of the British rock band Queen and its lively frontman, Freddie Mercury, and much of that criticism has been fair - from its strangely erroneous timeline to the sense that the film often feels as if it is moving from the creation of one iconic song to the next, rather than telling a story. But Rami Malek, who plays Mercury - born Farrokh Bulsara to a Parsi family that moved from Zanzibar to England - does such a convincing job of capturing the rock star's flamboyant persona and incredible stage presence that the film manages to work well enough.

As the film opens, Freddie is ignoring the concerns of his conservative family that he isn't taking his life seriously and attending a performance at a club of a band comprised of Queens' other members - Brian May (Gwilym Lee), Roger Taylor (Ben Hardy) and John Deacon (Joseph Mazzello) - who have just lost their frontman. Mercury puts himself forward for the role, but is at first brushed off due to his prominent buck teeth. But after belting out a few chords, he has them convinced.

Much of the film follows the familiar trajectory of rock bio pics - the band gets together, band produces hits, band produces more hits, band starts to squabble, drugs make a mess of things and relationships fray. But Malek's committed and energetic portrayal of Mercury holds things together, even when the film falters.

And falter it occasionally does. Much has been made of the film's fictionalization of Queens' actual timeline. I'm not a stickler when it comes to "sticking to the facts" when making movies about real people. I understand the need for poetic license when adding some fiction to factual proceedings for the sake of thematic cohesion. So, while I wasn't put off by the fact that the filmmakers depict the band writing "We Will Rock You" in the early 1980s, I found it a little strange, considering that the song was a big hit in 1977.

But I can kind of see why some might be offended when the film has Mercury telling his bandmates that he has been diagnosed with AIDS right before the group takes the stage for their seminal performance at 1985's Live Aid for Africa concert, a scene around which the entire film is structured. The purpose of doing so here appears merely for the sake of adding more drama and, as a result, comes off as a cheap tactic.

Also, from what I've read, Taylor was the first to break off from the band in the early 1980s to make some solo albums, but this film portrays Mercury as the one to do so, mostly so that he can be portrayed as having been overtaken by greed and a sense of his own importance. I'm not sure why the filmmakers found it necessary to paint Mercury as the bad guy for portions of the story. Also, his relationship with fiancee Mary Austin (Lucy Boynton) is portrayed as Mercury's saving grace, while his homosexuality - and relationship with conniving manager Paul Prenter (Allen Leech) - is given more of a sinister treatment. I'm not sure if that's how Singer intended it to come off, but it is.

So, yes, "Bohemian Rhapsody" has its share of issues, but it's an otherwise well acted and enjoyable rock 'n' roll biopic that does a solid job of capturing the energy of Queens' live performances, especially during the band's set at Live Aid, which is frequently ranked among the best live performances of all time. It also helps that Malek disappears so completely into the role and makes Mercury a compelling figure. Singer's film is far from perfect - but for a movie of this type, it's good enough.