Review: Let the Sunshine In

Image courtesy of Sundance Selects.

In some ways, "Let the Sunshine In" is the most radical departure of Claire Denis' career. The French filmmaker is known for such cerebral works as the remarkable "Beau Travail," the gorgeously grim "Trouble Every Day" and the acclaimed "White Material." So, it comes as somewhat of a surprise that her latest picture - starring an excellent as always Juliette Binoche - is a romantic dramedy, of sorts, albeit a somewhat heavy one.

The picture opens with a sex scene in which Binoche is prompting - at first subtly, then not so much - her lover to finish his business. At first, we are led to believe that it's Binoche's Isabelle who is, well, difficult until we realize what a creep her beau, Vincent - played by filmmaker Xavier Beauvois - is. As it turns out, Vincent is married, has no intention of leaving his wife - even going as far to noting that while Isabelle is "charming," his wife is "extraordinary" - and relishes in gossip. During one scene in which he talks down to a perfectly pleasant waiter at a Parisian bar, we wonder how Isabelle could put up with this guy at all.

"Let the Sunshine In" is not particularly concerned with a narrative as it is in placing its lead character in a series of scenarios - mostly of the romantic sort - that tend to end in her frustration. After Vincent - whom Isabelle finally shoves out her front door - she gets involved in a string of failed romances - first with a tattooed actor who is also married and confused about Isabelle's on-again-off-again approach to their affair, and then with a man she meets on a dance floor and, finally, a sensitive sort (played by the great Alex Descas), who doesn't want to rush things, much to Isabelle's dismay.

The picture ends with a somewhat baffling - although not in a bad way - sequence in which Isabelle meets up with a man who might be a shrink, friend, spiritualist or confidante - who knows? - played by Gerard Depardieu. This man talks to Isabelle in a rambling monologue that actually plays over the film's ending credits during which he gives advice - well, kind of - on her love life and describes how she must find her own "inner sun." It's a scene that is equally perplexing and entrancing.

But Denis has - throughout her career - been a master of such sequences. Consider the delirious finale of "Beau Travail" or the lovely scene involving the Commodores' "Nightshift" in "35 Shots of Rum." She makes great use of music, and there's a scene in "Let the Sunshine In" in which Isabelle dances by herself - and then with one of her new beaus - to Etta James' "At Last" on a dance floor that is absolutely radiant. Although much of Isabelle's life is trials and tribulations, mostly of the romantic variety, there are moments in which she does, in fact, let the sunshine in. And it's those moments that make Denis' latest picture such a delight.

Review: The Rider

Image courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics.

Coupled with the recent "Lean On Pete" - which also told a story about a boy who loved horses - Chloe Zhao's "The Rider," a measuredly paced drama about a rodeo rider attempting to overcome an injury in South Dakota, proves that foreign-born filmmakers can often provide unique takes on the western, that most American of film genres.

Set against stunning backdrops, Zhao's film takes a near documentary approach as it follows Brady Blackburn, a rodeo rider and horse trainer who is played by Brady Jandreau - who is now an actor, but was formerly a rodeo rider and horse trainer. There's a scene in the picture during which Brady trains a wild horse and the scene plays out in real time. From what I understand, this was not a scripted moment, but rather Zhao capturing Jandreau actually training a horse that ended up becoming a scene in the film

In other words, this is a fictional story, but more than a few moments are grounded in the real lives of the mostly nonprofessional actors portraying the characters. Brady - Blackburn, that is - has recently suffered a serious injury from rodeo riding, and has large staples - and, apparently, a metal plate - in his head to show for it. His doctors, father and sister, Lilly - who is autistic and played by Lilly Jandreau - advise him against riding again, but we know that advice will go unheeded.

Brady's closest friend is a guy named Lane (Lane Scott), a former rodeo rider who had a catastrophic accident that left him severely paralyzed and unable to speak. Brady sees the dangers of his passion in the state in which Lane has been left, but also can't tear himself away from it. As he waits for his wounds to heal, he trains two horses - Gus and a wild stallion named Apollo - and helps out a young man who wants to follow in Brady's footsteps.

Story is minimal in "The Rider" and characterization mostly takes place on faces. Jandreau is the silent, stoic type, although he does a great job of getting us inside the head of his character, despite his propensity for remaining quiet. Brady's life is one that has been filled with disappointment and tragedy. While his head bear the scars of his accident, he spends a quiet moment early in the film at his mother's grave. We don't hear the story of her death, but don't particularly need to. The film is also filled with devastatingly sad moments during which Brady sits in an assisted care facility with Lane as the two of them watch the latter's old rodeo videos.

This is a visually stunning movie. Zhao trains her camera on gorgeous vistas at sunrise, the magic hour and the nighttime - and the result is often breathtaking. "The Rider" is a slowly paced drama that mostly observes, rather than relies heavily on storytelling - and this goes a long way in creating the film's somber, dirge-like tone. Patient moviegoers who are interested seeing a story told in a corner of the United States that is mostly ignored by the movies will be duly rewarded.

Review: Truth Or Dare

Image courtesy of Universal Pictures.

Until a terrifying film chronicling a deadly game of Spin the Bottle makes its way into theaters, Blumhouse's "Truth or Dare" is the most ridiculous game in town. With the recent success of "A Quiet Place" and the laudatory reception with which the upcoming "Hereditary" was met at Sundance, horror movies are once again making the case that they can be financially successfully works of artistic merit.

But not "Truth or Dare." This is one of the goofiest horror pictures I've seen in some time. The film opens in Mexico, where a young woman is hearing voices inside of a convenience store that tell her to light someone on fire. Shortly thereafter, a group of college students take a road trip to Mexico. Their group includes the brainy do gooder (Lucy Hale's Olivia), her bestie (Violett Beane's Markie), her pal's boyfriend (Tyler Posey's Lucas), a horndog (Sam Lerner's Ronnie), a gay pal (Hayden Szeto's Brad), a jerky medical school student (Nolan Gerard Funky's Tyson) and his girlfriend (Sophia Ali's Penelope). It's like "The Breakfast Club," but a version in which no one seemingly learns anything about each other or dances around a library.

At a bar, Lucy meets a mysterious guy named Carter (Landon Liboiron), who lures the group to a secluded and abandoned church, where they play Truth or Dare. As it turns out, a deadly round of the game had taken place formerly at the spot and - similar to the setup of "Final Destination," but minus the gore or thematically sound scenario - Carter must bring other people into the game to ward off his being chosen for another round.

As the film goes on, the game holds higher stakes - deep dark secrets are unleashed and dares become deadly. Those who opt out end up checking out, but in a bloodless manner because, hey, this is a PG-13 movie. The film is never particularly scary, especially when demonic forces take over the characters and give their face an annoyingly elastic look.

There's a particularly ludicrous moment in which the gang tracks down an elderly Mexican woman who once took part in a game with the demon that is tormenting the youths. For reasons I won't divulge, she can no longer speak, so there's an entire scene in which she is frantically writing down clues for the protagonists as they ponder ways to beat the game.

As ridiculous as the film's central concept is, "Truth or Dare" could have possibly been fun. But it's mostly a dreary entry into a long assembly line of movies about teenagers being picked off one by one by supernatural forces beyond their control. The truth is: you could do much better, considering the current and upcoming crop of horror movies.

Review: Zama

Image courtesy of Strand Releasing.

Don Diego de Zama is first seen standing - staring straight ahead - and striking a pose on the shore of a beach in a manner in which he likely believes that Christopher Columbus or some other famed explorer of the New World once struck. We can tell from the first shot of Lucrecia Martel's visually gorgeous and downright peculiar new film - her first in nine years - that the picture's titular character takes himself seriously. Unfortunately for him, no one else appears to.

In the film, Zama (Daniel Gimenez Cacho) is a bureaucrat who is stuck on an island somewhere in the New World in the late 18th century. He has been waiting in vain for a transfer from the governor that will enable him to move from the godforsaken place where he has been living and reunite with his family. Although Zama likely views his circumstances as veering toward tragic, they are presented as absurd.

Early in the film, Zama is busted while sneaking a glance at some native women who are nude on the beach. Shortly after being chased off by the women, he must deal with a native, who has been tied up by the authorities for reasons unknown. Upon finally deciding to free the man, the native runs headfirst into a door and tells Zama of a fish that swam in a body of water that wanted to expel it. This is the closest thing in the film to Martel actually spelling out her intentions, but the man's parable is an apt description of colonialism.

Zama's problems go from bad to worse. During the film's most absurdly funny moment, Zama's request for a transfer gets a major setback during a visit to a local government figure, who ridicules our hero as a llama prowls behind him and makes noises. Then, Zama's attempts to woo a noblewoman falls flat. Finally, he is sent off on a mission to track down a notorious criminal, only to be held captive by the man after first being kidnapped by a group of Indians covered in red paint.

I've often had mixed reactions to Martel's work, despite the critical acclaim that her pictures tend to draw. I liked "La Cienega," but "The Holy Girl" didn't quite work for me and "The Headless Woman" was, in my opinion, opaque in all the wrong ways. "Zama" is probably her best film to date. That doesn't mean I found it to be flawless, but it's certainly worthy of praise and likely to stick around in your head for a while after the fact.

The film is filled with memorable - and memorably strange - imagery: the aforesaid scene with the llama, a gorgeous sequence in which Zama and his men travel via horseback through a bright green swampy area and a final boat ride following a grim act of violence. Gimenez Cacho nails a tricky role - Zama is, for all extents and purposes, a figure of ridicule, but the actor plays the role with the requisite seriousness that allows for Zama to be the butt of visual gags. The film's odd twangs and jangly guitars on the soundtrack are jarring and add to the movie's overall strange ambiance.

This is not a film for everyone, but those who enjoy offbeat - yet substantive - cinema will no doubt want to miss "Zama." Although the picture shares some of the stylistic traits of Martel's previous works, it is more accessible than her most recent works and, in my opinion, more engaging.

Review: Lean On Pete

Image courtesy of A24.

For his past two films, director Andrew Haigh has explored characters with complicated pasts that are hinted at rather than shown as they find themselves taking on new challenges or revelations. In his previous film, "45 Years," a wife comes to terms with a secret from her husband's past. In Haigh's latest picture, the coming of age drama "Lean On Pete," a young man named Charlie (Charlie Plummer) finds himself adrift and on the run with a stolen horse.

We learn that Charlie's mother had run off years before and his deadbeat father, Ray (Travis Fimmel) - with whom Charlie now lives - had gotten into a fight with Charlie's aunt that led to an estrangement. Often left home alone by his womanizing father, Charlie spends his time jogging or milling about Portland, Oregon, where he and Ray have recently moved. He doesn't appear to be in school, but it is unclear at what season of the year the film is set.

One day while running, Charlie is summoned by a cantankerous man named Del (Steve Buscemi), who asks the boy to help him load up his truck. Del races horses and Charlie instantly becomes interested in the animals, especially one named Lean on Pete that takes a shine to the boy. Soon, Charlie finds himself working as an assistant to Del and traveling - along with a jockey named Bonnie (Chloe Sevigny) - to races.

But Charlie becomes nervous about Lean on Pete's future after he realizes that Del sells off horses once they begin losing races and that they are sent to be slaughtered in Mexico. This tension is doubled when Charlie's father is hospitalized after being gravely injured by a man with whose wife Ray was sneaking around. Upon failing to convince Del to spare Lean on Pete and Ray succumbing to his injury, the boy and horse flee on a cross-country odyssey, with the intention of seeking out Charlie's estranged aunt.

While the film's first half is an often moving, occasionally inspiring hard-luck story, its second half becomes increasingly heavy as Charlie's money begins to dwindle and he finds himself homeless. He is taken in by a seemingly friendly man (Steve Zahn), who becomes violent when drunk, and depends on the kindness of several strangers for food and shelter.

The film's greatest strength is its lived-in performances by the cast. Buscemi's character is gruff, but obviously has affection for Charlie - that is, until the boy threatens his bottom line. Sevigny's Bonnie is also a tough character, but mostly due to her own education in the school of hard knocks. A scene during which she rattles off the various injuries she has suffered as a jockey is particularly grueling. Even minor characters - such as one of Ray's flings, who cooks Charlie breakfast - are given enough characterization to make them feel like real people.

The story details of "Lean on Pete" feel familiar - a hard-knock upbringing story, a road trip storyline, characters skirting the poverty line and various coming of age elements that have been explored on film more times than I could count - but the execution is effective, and the writing and performances are strong - plus, the film makes great use of Oregon's gorgeous vistas. Haigh has a knack for capturing the way people speak, interact and withhold, and "Lean on Pete" exemplifies this.

Review: You Were Never Really Here

Image courtesy of Amazon Studios.

When it comes to portraying characters in states of emotional distress, few filmmakers do so as convincingly as Scottland's Lynne Ramsay. The director - who has only made four films in 18 years - frequently focuses on individuals who are tormented by bleak existences or tragedy, such as the young boy in "Ratcatcher," the girlfriend of a man who committed suicide in the haunting "Morvern Callar" or the parents of a school shooter in "We Need to Talk About Kevin."

In "You Were Never Really Here," Joaquin Phoenix loses himself in the role of Joe, who is easily the most disturbed individual to appear in a Ramsay film to date. As the picture opens, Joe is carrying out some form of self punishment as he nearly suffocates himself with a plastic bag over his head. During a later moment, he drops a knife toward his feet, moving it out of the way in the knick of time, while talking to his aging mother (Judith Roberts) through the bathroom door.

"You Were Never Really Here" has drawn some comparisons to Martin Scorsese's iconic "Taxi Driver" since its lead character is an avenging angel in New York City. In Ramsay's film, her protagonist is a victim of childhood abuse and former soldier with PTSD who works as a hired hand to a detective (played by John Doman of "The Wire"). Joe's jobs tend to involve rescuing young girls from abuse - namely, sex trafficking rings - and his weapon of choice is a ball peen hammer. Upon being hired by a senator whose daughter has been kidnapped by a pedophiliac prostitution ring, Joe is told by his new employer that he has been chosen due to his known penchant for being "brutal."

Ramsay makes a number of fascinating stylistic choices in the film, including her decision to rarely show Joe's acts of violence. Rather, the camera often cuts away from him as he raises his hammer to strike an adversary, or we see the bloody aftermath of his work. Another noteworthy stylistic trait of the picture is its use of flashbacks. There is very little characterization - and Joe rarely says much - and Ramsay lets the images tell the story. We see brief shots - obviously set in the past - of a dead soldier's feet (perhaps a fellow soldier who served with Joe?), a young boy hiding in a closet (obviously Joe) and a woman cowering under a table, while a man walks by carrying a hammer (an explanation for Joe's weapon of choice?).

Phoenix gives an incredible performance here, especially since he has so little dialogue. During one sequence, he observes a green jellybean and slowly crushes it - and the scene tells us more about his character than dialogue might in a lesser film. It's also interesting to see how Joe, although brutal in his work, can be compassionate. He cares for his aging mother, rubbing her feet in one scene and doting on her throughout the course of the picture. Joe also appears to view himself as a protector of the young girls whom he tracks down.

In one of the film's most oddly effective moments, Joe shoots an intruder who has been sent to his house after he has become entangled in a conspiracy as a result of saving the senator's daughter. While the man is dying, Joe doesn't pump him for information. Instead, he gives the man a painkiller and the two end up singing along to Charlene's "I've Never Been to Me," which plays on the radio in Joe's kitchen.

Clocking in just under 90 minutes, "You Were Never Really Here" is a lean, brutal, often visually stunning and powerful film about a disturbed individual. I'm not sure it's a masterpiece, as some critics have hailed it, but it's impressive nonetheless. Ramsay typically waits years between films - nine years between her second and third film and seven between her third and this one - so "YouWere Never Really Here" is also a welcome opportunity to watch a distinctive, if often inactive, talent at work. And Phoenix, who is one of the best actors working right now, provides a mesmerizing and challenging performance. Ramsay's film is not always easy to watch due to its grim content, but I have no doubt that it'll leave a mark on those who view it.

Review: Blockers

Image courtesy of Universal Pictures.

Much like 2011's "Bridesmaids," the raunchy new "Blockers" turns the sex comedy on its ear. The film has two sets of protagonists - three girls who have been best friends since childhood and are now planning to carry out a pact to lose their virginity on prom night during their senior year, and the three overprotective parents who learn of the pact and do everything in their power to prevent it from coming to fruition. In comedies of years past, the parents' foibles might have been the butt of the jokes, but ultimately the daughters' would learn that their parents meant well and, most likely, all decide to hold off on the sex.

In this picture, however, the parents - played adeptly by John Cena, Leslie Mann and Ike Barinholtz - are the butt of nearly all the jokes, and the daughters are viewed as being more balanced and sane. The picture was directed by Kay Cannon - whose previous work included "30 Rock" and the "Pitch Perfect" movies - and she wisely incorporates a running theme throughout "Blockers" that the three teenage girls are not damsels in distress. Or, as one of them tells their hovering parent, she doesn't need to be saved.

Also, in the era of #MeToo and women confronting abuse in Hollywood, it is refreshing for a movie to treat young women's sexuality as something that does not need to be approved of or decided by men. During one of the film's better scenes, the three snooping parents are busted by one of their spouses (played by Sarayu Blue), who poses a good question: Why is it no big deal when young men lose their virginity, whereas parents often freak out when a young woman decides to lose hers?

It also helps that the three young women - Julie (Kathryn Newton), Kayla (Geraldine Viswanathan) and Sam (Gideon Adlon) - playing the daughters are also great comediennes and have well developed characters. Julie plans to lose her virginity to a longtime boyfriend, while Kayla - who is the best character of the bunch - has decided that she wants to get it over with, and plans to sleep with her man-bun wearing prom date, who seemingly has an endless supply of drugs and rubs Cena's father the wrong way. Sam also joins in on the pact, but is secretly a lesbian who is harboring a crush on a girl named Angelica (Ramona Young).

While the humor involving the daughters stems from the concept that women can be just as vulgarly funny as men, the jokes involving the parents are more broad, but equally humorous. Cena - a pro wrestler who has a knack for comedy - is Mitchell, a proud parent who gets overly emotional regarding anything involving his daughter. Mann's single mom Lisa has become emotionally clingy toward Julie, realizing that she will soon leave for college. Barinholtz gets a number of laughs as deadbeat dad Hunter, who wants to have a better relationship with his child.

One of the film's most outrageous gags involves Cena getting roped into a beer chugging competition that involves sticking the hose in his rectum. That was funny, but I laughed even harder at the recurring gag involving Gina Gershon and Gary Cole as two other parents with a penchant for role playing.

"Blockers" is, for the most part, a very funny movie. There are a lot of gags thrown at the audience. Some work more than others, but it is on the whole funnier than your average Hollywood comedy. It also helps that the film's characters require some emotional investment, and the writer and directors make the liberation of young women a central theme. Too often, the sexual appetites of women are either frowned upon or the butt of jokes in films such as this one - but in this case, it's the ones who fear liberated women at whom we laugh. "Blockers" takes the worn-out horny teenagers genre and gives it a clever spin.

Review: A Quiet Place

Image courtesy of Paramount Pictures.

Making great use of both sound and the lack of it, actor-director John Krasinski makes a surprisingly strong bid to become one of the new voices of horror with "A Quiet Place," a nerve shredding exercise that manages to tell a wonderfully hair raising story with virtually no dialogue.

The film is yet another in a long line of post-apocalyptic films in which the survivors of some type of fallout - in this case, the takeover of Earth by large, monstrous creatures that are blind, but have advanced hearing and, therefore, hunt by sound - attempt to survive. But while the setup is cliched, the execution is anything but.

Krasinski plays the patriarch of a family hiding out in a somewhat sound-proofed house in the middle of nowhere. Only one other human is seeing during the entire course of the picture other than the family. The picture opens with a tragedy. Krasinski's Lee and his wife, Evelyn (played by his actual wife, Emily Blunt), are making a trip to an abandoned supermarket with their three children - Marcus (Noah Jupe), Beau (Cade Woodward) and Regan (Millicent Simmonds), who is mostly deaf.

Beau wants to take a toy airplane from the shop, but once his parents recognize that it is battery operated and, therefore, prone to make sound, they gently tell him no. But Regan feels sympathy for her brother, snatches the toy and gives it to him. On their trek back home, Beau turns on the airplane and is quickly snatched away by one of the film's creatures.

Months later, the family is going about its routine, but Evelyn is once again pregnant. This was my one bone to pick with the film. If the family's survival is incumbent upon their remaining quiet, why would Lee and Evelyn decide to bring another child - whose noise levels cannot likely be contained - into their home? It would seem that this plot thread was included in the film for the purpose of creating tension once the baby is born - which it does.

The most remarkable aspect of "A Quiet Place" is how well it utilizes silence and the occasional sound. By the picture's midway point, the audience has become so accustomed to the silence that whenever a sound is made - especially by the film's human characters - it is jarring and causes the heart to pound. Every time a noise sneaks in, we have to wonder whether it will draw the attention of the creatures.

For a movie in which dialogue is so scarce, it's also a wonder that the film's characters feel so fleshed out and that we can relate to them. Regan feels guilt over her brother's death and sees herself as the family's outcast. Marcus wants to be more courageous, while Evelyn and Lee wrestle with the fact that they might not be able to adequately protect their children. There was at least one sequence late in the film that drew an emotional response from the audience with which I saw the movie. This speaks to Krasinski's skills as a director and the cast's talents.

"A Quiet Place" struck me as a film that could become a sleeper hit - and it would be warranted. This is a clever, very well made, often excruciatingly intense and emotionally resonant horror movie. It also has one of the best final shots in a horror film in recent memory. Krasinki's previous work behind the camera would not have suggested that he'd be an adept horror filmmaker, so "A Quiet Place" is a genuine surprise and an indicator that the actor-director can be added to the roster of filmmakers who make smart, thoughtful movies that transcend their genres. For a film that often borders on being a silent movie, "A Quiet Place" is a scream.

Review: Gemini

Image courtesy of Neon.

Aaron Katz's moody and occasionally enigmatic L.A. noir "Gemini" makes excellent use of the City of Angels as a backdrop in the age of smartphones and social media. The film vacillates between being the type of low budget indie drama in which its director - an occasional participant in the Mumblecore movement of yesteryear - got his start and a stylish murder mystery with some gorgeously haunting imagery.

The film opens on a nighttime shot of upside down palm trees, suggesting a town that operates on its own set of rules and where bad things happen in the dark. The film centers on a popular Hollywood actress named Heather (Zoe Kravitz) who is in the middle of a nasty breakup with her boyfriend, on the fence as to whether she will star in a film that is nearly ready to shoot and pursued relentlessly by both the paparazzi and fans who border on stalking.

Heather relies heavily on her assistant, Jill (an excellent Lola Kirke), who doubles as her confidante, business manager and best friend. Although Jill technically works for Heather, the relationship is appears to be one in which the two women are on more equal footing than your typical celebrity and assistant. In fact, it reminded me slightly of the camaraderie between Juliette Binoche and Kristen Stewart in Olivier Assayas' excellent "Clouds of Sils Maria."

From the film's beginning, there is a sense that danger is lurking. Jill must constantly deal with the aftermath of Heather's decisions. She is the one who has to listen to Heather's ex-boyfriend, Devin, on the phone following the breakup. He tells Jill to tell Heather that he will kill her. The same sentiment is relayed after Jill tells the filmmaker with whom Heather is supposed to work that the actress plans to drop out of the project. Jill is also forced to deal with Heather's grouchy agent Jamie (Michelle Forbes).

One night, Heather tells Jill that she knows she owns a gun and asks if she can borrow it. Heather doesn't feel safe - especially amid the breakup with Devin, but also due to a creepy paparazzi who follows her seemingly everywhere and after being approached by a fan who seems clingy to an unsettling degree.

Then, a horrific crime occurs and an easygoing, but determined, detective named Ahn (John Cho) suspects Jill, who then dyes her hair blonde and treks across Los Angeles, dodging the police and attempting to find the culprit behind the crime herself. The film includes a few noteworthy twists, but also a fittingly enigmatic ending that questions perception in an age of social media-dominated unreality. It also adds to the ambiance that the film's blue-tinted twilight visuals are punctuated with jazzy saxophone riffs and an eerie electronic score.

While "Gemini" doesn't exactly reinvent the noir or tread new ground, it is an engrossing and highly effective thriller that serves as a great showcase for the talents of Kirk and Katz and a reminder why Los Angeles is such a perfect spot for thrillers of this sort.

Review: Ready Player One

Image courtesy of Warner Bros.

Steven Spielberg's underrated "A.I. Artificial Intelligence" was viewed by some critics as being cold and lacking in the type of warmth that was exhibited in the director's numerous classics that came before that picture. I disagreed with those takes on that film - but I apply it, to an extent, to Spielberg's latest, "Ready Player One," which was adapted by Zak Penn and Ernest Cline's from the latter's novel of the same name.

Near the film's end - during a scene in which the film's protagonist, Wade Watts (Tye Sheridan), comes face to face with one of two men behind the curtain, so to speak - the picture features one of those types of moments that could only occur - at least, successfully - in a Spielberg movie. It involves a reveal, but also some genuine emotion. But much of what leads up to that moment made me feel disconnected from the film's characters.

As I'm a bit of a Luddite, it would take the length of a feature film for me to adequately explain the world of "Ready Player One." But suffice it to say that it is set in the future - primarily in Columbus, Ohio, where Wade lives with his aunt, and her latest sleazeball boyfriend, after his parents died - and that humankind spends much of its time in a virtual reality known as The Oasis that was created by a mysterious, but seemingly good natured, man known as Halliday (Mark Rylance). For Wade, this is a blessing, considering that he lives in an area of piled-up trailers known as The Stacks.

As the film opens, Halliday has died and left clues - or, as they are known in big budget movies, Easter Eggs - within The Oasis. The first person who cracks his, for lack of a better phrase, code will be the next caretaker for The Oasis. Meanwhile, a greedy corporate villain named Nolan Sorrento (Ben Mendelsohn) has put together a gigantic army of avatars to seek out the clues, so that he can take over the realm for his own financial gain.

Inside of The Oasis, Wade goes by the avatar Parzival - you know, like the knight - and there meets a group of friends who accompany him on his mission. Olivia Cooke plays a girl named Samantha in the real world, but in The Oasis she is Art3mis. Naturally, Wade falls for her. Parzival has three other teammates against Sorrento, but noting the actors who hide behind their avatars in the real world would be giving away plot twists.

On the one hand, "Ready Player One" has a great soundtrack full of 1980s nuggets. On the other, they are only used to moderate effect. While "Everybody Wants to Rule the World" and "Faith" are aptly utilized, others - such as "I Hate Myself for Loving You" and "Jump" - do little to speak to the action of the story.

Also, the film makes constant reference to 1970s and 1980s pop culture - yes, it is incorporated into Halliday's story, but it still often feels assembled in a somewhat clunky manner. At various points, the film's heroes run across The Iron Giant, Chucky from "Child's Play," the T-Rex from "Jurassic Park" and the Delorean from "Back to the Future." There's another scene in which the characters find their way into "The Shining," during a scene that quickly becomes silly due to an overabundance of digital effects.

That being said, there are some stunning digital vistas to be found in "Ready Player One" and a breathless action sequence at the film's beginning during which Wade takes part in a race that is so frantic it might leave you dizzy. But a significant amount of the film is spent in The Oasis, thereby making it difficult to generate much emotion about characters who are essentially avatars in an expensive-looking video game. Spielberg is the king of blockbusters that incorporate big action sequences with genuine emotion. The former is on display in spades here, but the latter - other than that finale I mentioned - is mostly missing. "Ready Player One" is not a bad film, but it's a lesser entry into the Spielberg catalogue.