Review: Wonder Woman 1984

Image courtesy of Warner Bros.

Patty Jenkins's sequel to "Wonder Woman" has its moments and Gal Gadot remains a spirited and charismatic leading lady - while Chris Pine provides some surprising supporting gravitas - but "Wonder Woman 1984" is a somewhat overstuffed sequel that often feels too busy for its own good.

For starters, there's not much of a reason that the story is set in 1984 - yes, it gets to squeeze in a few scenes involving the Russians and the dangers of nuclear weapons, but it otherwise appears to take place during this period of time in order to crack jokes about parachute pants, modern art, breakdancing and various 1980s attire. I can recall only one period song - Frankie Goes to Hollywood's "Welcome to the Pleasuredome" is used to good effect - during the entire enterprise.

In the film, a powerful stone ends up at the lab where Diana (Godot) and dorky new lab researcher Barbara Minerva (Kristen Wiig, playing against type) are working. Of course, "WW84" is yet another in a long line of comic book movies where a jealous, nerdy type - Wiig's character - is envious of the superhero figure and, therefore, ends up turning to the dark side.

In this case, Barbara's transformation occurs when she realizes the stone can grant wishes, but at a price, naturally. The stone also attracts the attention of a smarmy TV personality named Maxwell Lord (Pedro Pascal) who operates a Ponzi-scheme that involves buying shares in oil wells that don't deliver. Both Maxwell and Barbara become overwhelmed by the stone's power and - since this is a comic book movie - the world is suddenly in danger.

But Diana also makes a wish, although the stone's power is unbeknownst to her, that results in her lover, Steve (Pine), being brought back from the dead. Although the endless gags involving Steve's curiosity at 1980s couture and culture become a little tired after a while, his character provides the most dramatic elements of "WW84" that actually work. To stop the reign of madness brought on by the stone, everyone must renounce their wishes - and that includes Diana, who has received the one thing she wants (Steve's return) as a result of the stone.

The film has its fun moments and some decent dramatic fodder, but it's too long and often feels it, and the filmmakers often overdo it in their depictions of Maxwell and Barbara's corruption by the stone as if their viewers might not get the concept. There are many action sequences - again, too many - and while most of them are well enough handled, none are particularly awe inspiring or memorable.

The relationship between Diana and Steve is the real meat of the film, not the endless action scenes or the plot that actually feels as if it were ripped out of some movie made in the year, say, 1984. Jenkins's original "Wonder Woman" felt like a breath of fresh air and was fun - this one isn't bad, but it feels like a standard follow-up to a comic book movie. There's a whole lot more of everything, but that doesn't necessarily relate to a bump in quality. I'm sure a third entry in this series awaits, but I hope the filmmakers dial that one back a little - and if it's set in the present (and not some gimmicky era of yesteryear), that'll likely do.

Review: Soul

Image courtesy of Walt Disney Studios.

In recent years, Pixar Animation Studios has primarily focused on sequels and a few straightforward animated movies such as "The Good Dinosaur" and "Onward." In its heyday, the studio was responsible for some of the best animated movies ever - such as "Wall-E" and "Up" - and although most of its recent output has been good, it hasn't quite lived up to its previous work.

However, every once in a while, Pixar puts out something magic - five years ago, it was the clever and winsome "Inside Out." This year, it's the funny, moving and thoughtful "Soul." What a lovely movie this is - and proof that Pixar still can make animated movies that are sweet, fun and charming enough for children, but also intelligent and dramatically engaging enough for adults.

In the film, a jazz pianist named Joe (voiced by Jaime Foxx) is stuck teaching high school music classes and feels as if he's not fulfilling his life's purpose. One day, he hears about a gig with a famous woman saxophone player, and he shines during a rehearsal, landing the job. But while he is rejoicing afterward while walking down the street, he falls in a manhole and wakes up on a stairway to the Great Beyond.

That is, Joe's soul finds itself on the staircase, while his body is attached to a machine in a hospital. He manages to skip the Great Beyond and finds himself in a field populated by small, unused souls that have yet to be sent to Earth. He finagles his way into becoming a mentor for a young soul named 22 (Tina Fey) who has never been able to make it to Earth due to her difficult nature, having been mentored by everyone from Abraham Lincoln to Mother Teresa, whom she made cry.

Joe and 22 find a way back to Earth, but things get messed up, and 22 finds herself in Joe's body, while Joe lands in the body of a therapy cat at the hospital where his body is being kept in a bed. Much of the rest of the film involves Joe and 22 trying to figure out a way to get Joe's soul back into his own body; all the while he gives 22 pointers on how to live life on planet Earth once she finally gets there.

But one of the more interesting - and ultimately moving - elements of the picture is how Joe has been going about his life the wrong way prior to his return in the body of a cat. He goes for a haircut at a favorite barber's shop, but it is 22 who manages to get the barber to talk about his life - and Joe realizes all this time he's been droning on about jazz to the barber. 22 also does a better job of communicating with Joe's mother, who wants him to give up his dream of being a jazz musician, and Joe comes to realize that mentoring young people - such as the high school students he has been teaching all along - has its own rewards. 

Meanwhile, a fuddy duddy named Terry (Rachel House's voice) has realized that a soul is missing from the Great Beyond and travels to Earth to try to bring Joe and 22 back. As this is going on, Joe is hoping to get back into his body to make the gig with the jazz band for which he auditioned.

"Soul" is full of the Pixar magic that has made some of its best films so special. It's often very funny, but also wise and manages to make viewers a little misty eyed without overdoing it. It's also true to life in ways that might surprise you, considering you're watching an animated movie. As always, its animated characters are memorable, both in their visual representation, but also due to the personalities voiced by the cast. 

"Soul" is Pixar's best film in five years. Although I've enjoyed the studio's output in recent years, it's always great to see them working in top form as they are here. This is a big hearted, generous movie and one of the year's best.

Review: Small Axe

"Small Axe: Lovers Rock." Image courtesy of Amazon.

The fifth part of Steve McQueen's ambitious series of five films known as "Small Axe" - which is now available in full on Amazon Prime - is titled "Education," although the name of this final part of the series is applicable to all five parts.

Set in the late 1960s through the mid-1980s in London's West Indian community, "Small Axe" tells a series of stories - none of which are connected, but all of which have thematic ties - of a type that is rarely told in the cinema. McQueen's five films - which vary in length from just a little over an hour to over two hours - made me realize how rare it is that cinematic stories about the lives of West Indies immigrants are told, and the result here is enlightening.

The film takes its title from a Bob Marley song, which contains the lyric, "if you are the big tree, we are the small axe." In the case of McQueen's films, the big tree is white London society and the West Indian residents are obviously the latter.

The films vary from the political to the personal - and, in some instances, both. The first episode - "Mangrove" - is the longest and the most overtly political. Set in late 1960s London, it tells the story of a man named Frank Critchlow (Shaun Parkes), a Trinidadian man who runs a Notting Hill restaurant that becomes a de facto meeting place for the local West Indian community.

Frank's place is constantly tormented by the police, especially a racist cop named PC Frank Pulley (Sam Spruell), whose endless raids and violently abusive behavior finally send Critchlow over the edge. He and a group of local activists, including British Black Panther Althea Jones-Lecointe (Letitia Wright), hold a protest and march that results in the arrest of a number of activists. They go on trial, and much of the film is about their court case, and how several of those involved represent themselves.

The most written about - and celebrated - of the "Small Axe" films is "Lovers Rock," an hour-long reggae party that serves as a backdrop for the budding romance between Martha (Amarah-Jae St. Aubyn) - who sneaks out of her bedroom window to join her friend, Patti (Shaniqua Okwok), and attend the party - and Franklyn (Michael Ward).

During the course of the evening, we watch a kitchen full of West Indian women make tasty looking food for the party, and listen as the exuberant DJs play a variety of reggae tunes, all the while touting themselves over and over. One of the songs they play - "Kunta Kinte Dub" by the Revolutionaries - proves to be so popular that they play it over and over again. A show stopping moment during the party involves the playing of Janet Kay's 1979 lovers rock tune "Silly Games" in its entirety, only to cut the record as the entire dance floor then sings the song all over again a cappella in its entirety.

There's some drama - Franklyn and Martha prevent a rape - but the finale involves a quiet bike ride home from the party, Martha sneaking back into her room and some reflection on her part about the night. It's a lovely way to end the most unique entry in "Small Axe."

My personal favorite of the five films is the third part - "Red, White and Blue" - in which an excellent John Boyega plays Leroy, a forensic scientist in the 1980s who wants to join the London police force. In an earlier scene, we see his father, Kenneth (Steve Touissant), telling some cops to leave Leroy, at the time a young boy, alone after Kenneth is late in picking him up from school.

Kenneth is later harassed and beaten up by several police officers, resulting in a court case in which he demands an apology for the way he is treated. Leroy wants to join the police force to bring change from within, and when he goes for his interview, much is made of this possibility. Once he's actually on the force, he realizes this is easier said than done. Other than a Pakistani man on the force who's a friend, most of the other officers are white, and many seem to resent Leroy's presence.

During one particular scene of anguish, Leroy almost gets injured chasing a criminal, and he gets no response when he calls for backup among the white officers, who vary from being quietly resentful toward him to openly racist. His superior officers don't seem particularly interested in his complaints. "Red, White and Blue" culminates with a powerful moment in which Leroy and Kenneth, who has since come to terms with his son's career choice, discuss whether change can actually come from within, or whether it's better to just "burn it all down."

The series' fourth part, "Alex Wheatle," is another political drama, and among the most straightforward of the bunch. It follows the titular character, Alex (Sheyi Cole), a scrawny young man, during his first day in prison, where he meets his gassy roommate, nearly gets into a fight with him and then settles into telling his story.

Growing up in foster homes and institutions, Alex eventually moves into a flat, where he befriends a younger couple. Dennis (Jonathan Jules) mocks Alex for his style of dress, but eventually helps him settle in, showing him the local record store and setting him up in the drug selling business. This, of course, eventually leads him to trouble and jail - but we learn in the final moments of the picture that Alex went on to become a writer who published numerous books in England.

The final film is, in many ways, the saddest. Titled "Education," it tells the story of a young boy named Kingsley (Kenyah Sandy), who lives with his immigrant parents and older sister in London in the 1970s. Although smart, Kingsley occasionally gets into trouble in school and can barely read, although he's 12 years old. He is transferred to a so-called "special school," where students are sent to sit behind desks with little supervision and learn absolutely nothing.

When a local activist comes to the door of Kingsley's house to tell his mother, Agnes (Sharlene Whyte), how West Indian children are sent to such schools because white-operated schools don't want to bother with them and, therefore, leave them with little in the way of an education after going through the school system, Agnes at first doesn't want to hear about it. But after realizing that her son can't read, she gets involved with a local group that wants to challenge the school system, but also includes Saturday classes for students who have been left behind. "Education" is a stirring little drama, shot in the style of the British "kitchen sink" dramas of the 1960s.

McQueen's series is a deeply engrossing, righteously angry, often sad, occasionally playful and all-around very well acted slate of movies. "Lovers Rock" is the most distinctive of the bunch, although - as I'd mentioned - "Red, White and Blue" is the most powerful and my personal favorite and "Education" the most poignant. All five of the movies, however, are very good. 

"Small Axe" is one of the year's best film projects - it falls somewhere between a very long movie told in five parts and a TV show - and further proof that McQueen is one of the UK's best filmmakers. Although all five films in the series are set in the past, they are all relevant today in their focus on racism, the plight of immigrants and telling the stories of those often unseen by mainstream society. "Small Axe" involves commitment and effort from its viewers due to its running time, but it's well worth the investment.

Review: Let Them All Talk

Image courtesy of HBO Max.

Steven Soderbergh's latest film, "Let Them All Talk," is deceptively stylish, light and breezy like many of the director's other films - but similar to his other work, its heavier concepts only gradually reveal themselves and finally land with a gut punch.

In the picture, Meryl Streep plays an aging, affected author named Alice who is in the middle of a new novel that could be a sequel to one of her most famed works - the question remains: Which one? For Karen (Gemma Chan), Alice's newly acquired agent, she hopes it's a sequel to the novel that won her a Pulitzer Prize and was adapted into a movie. Although, that's unlikely, because Alice views that book as her Achilles' heel.

Alice makes reference to another of her more writerly works, of which she's most proud, and when Karen mentions this possibility to her anxious publisher, he groans. Karen, you see, has possibly bitten off more than she can chew. She has promised her publisher that she'll get Alice to move it along with her book and reveal some information on it in exchange for paying for a ride on a cruise ship to England, where Alice is to receive a prestigious award. Alice is afraid of flying.

As part of the deal, Alice gets to bring along two women - Susan (Dianne Wiest), a court advocate for troubled women, and Roberta (Candice Bergen), who sells lingerie and spends much of her time on the boat trying to meet rich men - with whom she was best friends in college, but hasn't seen in nearly 30 years as well as her doting nephew, Tyler (Lucas Hedges).

Early on, Karen approaches Tyler, who becomes a somewhat unwitting spy on his aunt's progress, all the while beginning to have feelings for Karen. Meanwhile, Roberta has a grudge to bear against Alice, whom she believes based a character in a novel on her failed marriage, thereby ruining her life. Susan, all the while, tries to keep Roberta calm, while trying to appease Alice and scoping out another author on the boat - a kindly middle aged man who happens to be the author of numerous runaway thriller best sellers, the type of books at which Alice scoffs.

There's a lot of funny material on hand here, especially the tete e tetes between Roberta and her lingerie store manager and the hilariously insufferable blatherings of Alice on being a writer. Part of the women's mission is that once they arrive in the United Kingdom, their first stop is to visit the grave of a Welsh author named Blodwyn Pugh - who seemingly doesn't exist, and Soderbergh is likely to have stolen the name from the 1970s band Blodwyn Pig - whom both of Alice's friends attempt to read, but can't quite get through it.

But as the film goes on - and a few secrets and a shocking plot twist are revealed - "Let Them All Talk" has become much more dramatically engaging than one might originally have thought. Yes, the film is a comedy - and often a very funny one - but this deceptively lightweight film eventually wades into themes of regret, betrayal and loneliness and it ends up being one of Soderbergh's better pictures of recent years. The film's cast is terrific, its writing sharp and its ending slightly mysterious. It's well worth your time.

Review: Ma Rainey's Black Bottom

Image courtesy of Netflix.

Even if it feels somewhat like a filmed play, Pittsburgh playwright August Wilson's "Ma Rainey's Black Bottom" is an exuberant showcase for two highly talented thespians - the great Viola Davis in the titular role and the late Chadwick Boseman, in one of his finest performances, as the suave but troubled horn player Levee. While Denzel Washington's filmed version of "Fences" - which also starred Davis in an Oscar winning performance - gave the material more room to breathe as a movie, the confined quarters in "Ma Rainey" give it a more theatrical feel.

But ultimately, that's OK. Wilson's words and the two lead performances go a long way toward making the film, directed by George C. Wolfe, highly watchable and engrossing. Davis plays somewhat against type as the difficult, high maintenance "Mother of the Blues," considered to be one of the first African American singers to record songs, while Boseman gives the type of performance we've never seen him in before. 

In previous films, Boseman had played iconic figures - Jackie Robinson, James Brown, Black Panther and, in my personal favorite, the mythological sergeant in Spike Lee' "Da 5 Bloods" - but here his portrayal is of a fragile and wounded, but also charming and creative, musician who wants to break away from the back-up band gigs in which he seems to be stuck. During the picture's opening performance, Ma Rainey - used to being the center of attention - seems to give Levee the stink eye when he comes to the front of the stage to improvise on his horn.

Much of the film is centered around Ma Rainey - who has a stuttering nephew and young female lover in tow - joining a group of male back-up musicians - Levee, but also Toledo (Glynn Turman), Cutler (Colman Domingo) and Slow Drag (Michael Potts) - at a studio in Chicago to cut a record. Much to the dismay of Ma Rainey's white manager and the recording studio's white owner, Ma Rainey comes with a list of demands - for example, a recording session is cut short after she realizes that no one picked up the Coca Cola she requested - and the session keeps getting interrupted.

Behind the scenes, Levee has come up with several songs of his own that he wants to show to the recording studio manager in the hopes of breaking out of back-up gigs and starting his own band. As they wait for the session to begin, he and the other three male musicians bicker over everything from religion to how they deal with white people. The stuttering nephew - who Ma Rainey insists must introduce a song on the record - and the younger lover, on whom Levee has his eye, result in more tension in the studio.

As I've mentioned, the film has a little bit of a staged feel - it comes off more as a filmed play than a movie, whereas "Fences" managed to feel a little less so, despite the limited locations in the picture. Regardless, the film is a terrific acting showcase - Davis chews the scenery as the difficult Ma Rainey, a woman who may be a pain in the ass to all who work with her, but this likely has been earned during the hard years she wears on her face from having to be a woman artist in a man's world. 

Boseman's performance is also particularly solid, and is likely to earn him some posthumous awards attention. His work in the picture is a sad reminder of what a great talent the world lost when he died suddenly and shockingly last summer. His work in "Ma Rainey's Black Bottom" is a fitting final tribute to his screen charisma and acting ability. Overall, Wolfe's film is a well made, very well acted and engaging adaptation of a work from one of America's greatest storytellers. 

Review: Hillbilly Elegy

Image courtesy of Netflix.

Ron Howard's adaptation of J.D. Vance's controversial autobiography "Hillbilly Elegy" - which arrived during the 2016 election and led some to proclaim it as an harbinger of things to come with Donald Trump's election - isn't nearly so scandalous as the book that inspired it (I've never read it, but know at least two people who did and had little regard for it), and comes across more as a "pull yourself up by the bootstraps" tale of an Appalachian man who manages to find some success in life, despite his background and formative years spent among a bickering, drug addled "hillbilly" family who hailed from Kentucky, but lived mostly in Ohio.

The picture jumps between 1997 - when J.D. (Owen Asztalos playing the younger version) is living with his drug addicted, semi-abusive mother, Bev (Amy Adams), but is often in the care of his chain smoking, potty mouthed Mamaw (Glenn Close, who eats the scenery and steals the show) - and 2011, when J.D. (the adult version is played by Gabriel Basso) is involved romantically with Usha (Freida Pinto) and trying to get a summer internship with a prestigious law firm while attending Yale University.

However, in the later timeline, J.D. is called home by his sister, Lindsay (Haley Bennett), because Bev has once again OD'd - this time on heroin - and J.D. must find a recovery program for her, all the while attempting to drive 10 hours back to Connecticut the next day for a job interview. 

Meanwhile, the film jumps back and forth in time, so that we see the strained relationship between Bev - a nurse who gets fired after popping pills at work and misbehaving - and J.D., and how the younger version of the lead character ended up living with Mamaw, who inspired him to lift himself up from his dysfunctional upbringing and succeed.

It's a traditional rags to riches scenario that features all the required beats - yes, there's a scene in which J.D. must defend his "hillbilly" background to a table of snobbish Connecticut lawyers, but no, there's not much of the political element from the book, from the descriptions of the frustrations of the white working class in the Rust Belt (which helped Trump rise to power) or the hatred toward multi-cultural Blue America, which pundits latched onto in the book and used as a reasoning for why Trump won.

Ultimately, the film version of "Hillbilly Elegy" is a somewhat generic story of a boy from the hills who comes to the city, finds some success and then must travel back to where he came from to settle some family business. You've likely seen it all before - and, most likely, presented better than it is here. It's not a bad movie - the acting throughout is pretty decent, especially Close, who seems to be having some fun hamming it up a little, and Basso as the older J.D. The film is well shot and works well enough narratively, even if it's a little too familiar.

In some ways, Howard's version of the story is preferable to the one I've heard described about the book - at this point, I don't really need any more rationalizations for the past four years or another profile of a Rust Belt denizen and the reasons why they voted the way they did. Therefore, "Hillbilly Elegy" is yet another tale of opioids, lost dreams and dysfunctional lives in middle America - as such, it's well-enough made, but not quite the political firebomb you might have been expecting.

Review: Mank

Image courtesy of Netflix.

There's an old saying - and a variation of it appears in John Ford's classic "The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance" - that when it comes to printing the fact or the legend, always print the legend. David Fincher's visually sumptuous new film, "Mank," which sort of chronicles the behind-the-scenes intrigue in the writing of the screenplay for the iconic "Citizen Kane," is a film that follows this mantra, but it's not so much a glitzy picture about the Hollywood days of yore - in fact, it's something else altogether that might take a little time and reflection to really wrap one's mind around it.

Fincher is one of filmdom's great obsessives - much like Stanley Kubrick, his demands on the set involve actors doing hundreds of takes per scene, and his films are often interested in obsessiveness (the 2007 masterpiece "Zodiac") and power (the incredible "The Social Network"). His latest film takes its name from its subject - Herman Mankiewicz, the boozy, aging Hollywood screenwriter and brother of director Joseph Mankiewicz ("All About Eve") who shares the screenwriting credit for Orson Welles' towering 1941 achievement.

As the film opens, Mank (Gary Oldman) is in the process of healing from a car crash and has been taken to a secluded house in the desert to write "American," the original working title for "Citizen Kane." He is overseen by a by-the-book nurse (Lily Collins), who has a beau in the military, and is told that he is not to drink while working on the script, a rule that we know will soon be broken. Mank's wife, referred to as "Poor Sarah" (Tuppence Middleton), pops in and out of the drama, and we quickly learn that she puts up with Mank's antics out of a sense of loyalty and, occasionally, bemusement.

Welles is a presence mostly over the phone for much of the picture - he occasionally checks in on Mank's progress, that is, until a final confrontation between the two that could be seen as slightly ungenerous to American film's arguably greatest director. 

But the emphasis - and most interesting sections of the film - have little to do with "Kane," and more to do with the fraught relationship - told in flashback - between Mank and studio head Louis B. Mayer (Arliss Howard) and his friend, newspaper tycoon William Randolph Hearst (Charles Dance), on whom "Citizen Kane" was based. Mank manages to strike up a friendship with Marion Davies (a very good Amanda Seyfried), an actress who was romantically involved with Hearst.

Fincher has never especially been a political director - films like "Fight Club" and "The Social Network" are seemingly more interested in psychology and sociology than making political statements - but "Mank" has a prescient political undercurrent that makes it fascinating in a timely way. Mayer and Hearst back Frank Merriam - the union-busting Republican candidate - in the race for California's governorship in 1934, while Mank has a soft spot for author and self-proclaimed socialist and Democratic candidate Upton Sinclair.

In a series of scenes that feel as if they could be ripped out of today's headlines, Merriam's Republican backers in the movie studio system craft a series of documentary-style campaign ads that use distorted facts and actors posing as voters to slander Sinclair as a dangerous socialist. As he recognizes Mayer and Hearst for who they really are, Mank's friendship with the two men begins to fray, ultimately leading to two awkward blow ups - one on election night and another at a dinner party, where Oldman - in his best moment in the film - pitches the crowd at Hearst's house on a script about a newspaper tycoon who has sold his soul.

The heart of the film, however, is the friendship between Mank and Davies, especially during an enchanting evening stroll through Hearst's ridiculously lavish gardens, which include a zoo with elephants and giraffes. Mank tells Davies he sees her as a great star of dramatic pictures - and not just a comedienne - while Davies obviously sympathizes with Mank's sensibilities, even if she's not willing to outwardly criticize Hearst, the man who provides her with everything she needs.

So, while "Mank" - shot in gorgeous black and white and featuring numerous dream-like sequences - isn't a typical tale of classic Hollywood, it bears some similarity to such masterpieces as "Chinatown" and "Mulholland Drive," in which vast conspiracies are hinted at, but never completely revealed, and the town is seen less as a dream factory than a battlefield. On the one hand, Fincher might not seem like the filmmaker you'd expect to make this type of picture, but on the other its various obsessions seem to fit right into his wheelhouse.

Regardless, it's a movie of great intrigue, and one that I'll certainly want to revisit at some point soon. "Mank" is less the story of how "Citizen Kane" was made, and more about how life's disillusions, failures and disappointments can occasionally prompt flawed people to make great art. I'd highly recommend this movie.

Review: The Climb

Image courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics.

For a low budget indie drama featuring two unknowns in the leads, Michael Angelo Covino's "The Climb" is a very funny, occasionally moving, well written and often visually adventurous picture. The film - which chronicles the toxic friendship between two average men over a period of years - features long-held shots and some impressive camera moves, but rather than making its visual elements the focal point, the picture is mostly driven by its performances and the dialogue between its characters.

The film opens on a continuous shot of two men - Kyle (Kyle Marvin) and Michael (Covino, who acts as director and co-writer of the movie with Marvin) - riding bikes up a mountain somewhere in France. The two men are abroad for Kyle's wedding to Ava (Judith Godreche), a French woman, and it's obvious that while Mike is an expert at cycling, Kyle is, well, not so much.

Therefore, it's not until Mike is well ahead of Kyle on the steep incline on which they're peddling that he decides to break some bad news - he has slept with Ava, not just in the past, but even recently. The men's friendship, not surprisingly, takes a dive, and it's not until some time later that they meet again due to tragic circumstances, although a funeral scene quickly devolves into something quirkier involving a fight between Michael and a gravedigger over a union-related issue and an a cappella performance by a group of men.

As time passes, Michael's life falls apart - he drinks too much, he's aimless and seemingly friendless. When he next meets up with Kyle, who is faring better, it's at Kyle's family's Christmas party, where Kyle breaks the news to his disappointed family that he plans to marry Marissa (Gayle Rankin), his girlfriend, whom no member of the family - which includes two sisters and a mother and father played by Talia Balsam and George Wendt - appears to like.

Michael shows up drunk and makes a fool of himself, but not before Kyle's mother gives him a lecture about how one can be a good friend merely by thinking of others' needs before acting selfishly in the name of one's own desires. Several other meet-ups occur between the two men - an ice fishing bachelor party for Kyle that nearly turns tragic, a wedding interruption obviously inspired by "The Graduate," a drunken New Year's Eve celebration in which Michael nearly screws up the friendship again (although he appears to be doing it for reasons he considers more munificent) and several others.

Michael's character can be obnoxious - he's the screwup friend who everyone wants to do better, but rarely does. Kyle, on the other hand, has his own share of flaws - he's easily led, whether it's by Michael or Marissa (who wants Kyle to disassociate himself from his family because they don't like her) - and Kyle even admits, when pressed by Marissa as to why he loves her, that he's in need of someone to give him direction.

"The Climb" is a very well made, often quite funny and even somewhat moving film about two flawed people who see each other very clearly - warts and all - and decide to stick together over a period of years, on the one hand, out of a sense of loyalty, but also because they know each other in a way that others don't know them. 

It features a number of intense moments - but not in the typical way you might expect. The film's multiple heart-to-heart sequences and numerous moments in which we see characters acting in ways that aren't good for themselves or others ring true in an often hilarious, real world manner.

"The Climb" isn't just very good due to its impressive visual style, strong performances, writing or humorous set pieces, but also because we can recognize someone we've likely once known in its lead characters in a way that feels authentic. The two frenemies at its heart are, arguably, bad for each other, but rely and depend on each other in a way that makes "The Climb" engrossing. The film was a hit at the Sundance Film Festival - and it's easy to see why. 

Review: The Dark And The Wicked

Image courtesy of RLJE Films.

Bryan Bertino's "The Dark and the Wicked" starts out promisingly enough, but it's soon clear that the film has nowhere to go, eventually devolving into a series of derivative and repetitive events that become gorier and nastier as they go along, but simultaneously less interesting and not particularly frightening.

The film's early scenes are goosebump inducing enough. On a desolate farm in the middle of nowhere, an older woman (Julie Oliver-Touchstone) tends to her ailing, bed-ridden husband and oversees the daily chores. Something is amiss. Bells clang in the night, the herds of goats seem frightened and something appears to be lurking on the perimeter.

The woman chops carrots - in that type of up-close manner they love to do in horror movies that I've come to loathe - on a cutting board and hears the scrape of a chair behind her. She turns around and the chair - but nothing else - is facing her. Like I said, something seems off.

The woman's two grown children - Louise (Marin Ireland) and Michael (Michael Abbott Jr.) - arrive to help out, but end up providing little help at all. Then, something horrifying and devastating happens - and the siblings are left wondering what to do. Meanwhile, strange phone calls take place, people show up at the house and then later claim they were never there and Louise has a scare in the shower.

All of this could have made for a creepy horror movie - especially after the eerie, well shot and atmospheric opening scenes, but "The Dark and the Wicked" becomes more dull as it plods along. A home nurse gets into the mix as well as a priest and some other characters, but they are there for obvious reasons - mostly to suffer or contribute to the mind games. 

One of the problems involved in the picture is the seeming lack of logic to why anyone behaves the way they do, or what exactly is tormenting the characters in this film - or why. As the film gets bloodier, it becomes less interesting, and the gore seems to be there to try to keep horror movie fans from abandoning the picture altogether. The final scene provides no further clarity and goes out more with a whimper than a bang.

I'm sure the movie is meant to capture the mood of the horrors of a family witnessing death, but there are likely more compelling ways to do so - within the confines of the horror genre - than what takes place here. This is a good looking film with a director that seems to have a mastery behind the camera, so it's a disappointment that "The Dark and the Wicked" offers so little else otherwise.

Review: The Craft: Legacy

Image courtesy of Sony Pictures Entertainment.

In terms of unnecessary sequels to movies that weren't that great to begin with, "The Craft: Legacy" is actually somewhat interesting for its first two-thirds before deciding on a plot line that is marginally foreshadowed, but not really developed, and among the less interesting routes for the picture to go, considering the other elements at play in the earlier scenes.

Yes, the film is a follow-up, of sorts, to the 1996 movie "The Craft," which starred Neve Campbell and Fairuza Balk, and includes a similar dynamic - four girls who are budding witches, although while in this case they also have one Black member of the entourage, they also have a transgender member. At first, the picture attempts to address modern societal issues in a manner that comes off as a little forced and awkward, but then eventually becomes intriguing.

Basically, the film involves a teenager named Lily (Cailee Spaeny) traveling with her mother, Helen (Michelle Monaghan), to move in with her mom's new beau, Adam (David Duchovny), an author whose specialty appears to be masculine frailty, or something like that. He lives with his two strapping teenage sons and a younger, more sensitive boy. 

The most interesting plot thread in the film involves a jerky high school boy named Timmy (Nicholas Galitzine), who ridicules Lily in front of her new classmates after she has her period in class - a nod to "Carrie," perhaps? This prompts three girls in her class - Lourdes (Zoey Luna), Frankie (Gideon Adlon) and Tabby (Lovie Simone) - to befriend her and share their secret with her: they're a coven of witches. The reason they chose Lily is that they can sense the powers she holds - which are displayed when she flings Timmy across the hallway accidentally after he harasses her.

The girls break into Timmy's house and put a spell on him, which - in the film's funniest ongoing gag - leads to the asshole jock character becoming "Woke Timmy," whose sensitivity and newly progressive stances shock the rest of his classmates. But what is at first an amusing gag becomes something more serious when Timmy makes a confession to the four girls - and the question of "consent," in this case how Timmy is being forced to behave in a manner without his permission, comes into play.

There's some interesting stuff to be found here, especially as Lily begins to somewhat selfishly consider to what purpose she wants to use Timmy, versus his true nature, which is revealed in his confession. There are several other plot threads that weave throughout the film during its first two-thirds - including a scene featuring an extremely creepy case of sleepwalking.

Unfortunately, the genre plot devices kick in toward the end, and a plot thread previously unbeknownst - but somewhat hinted at - emerges and the film goes in a completely different direction, and one that's not as interesting as all that's gone on before.

There's also a finale twist involving Lily's family tree, although it's pretty easy to see where it's going from the moment it's mentioned, that could open the door for a third "Craft" film. If there is one, I'd suggest the filmmakers stick with the interesting thematic elements of the first part of "Legacy," rather than going all in for yet another genre exercise.

Review: Borat Subsequent Moviefilm

Image courtesy of Amazon Studios.

If there were ever a time for a "Borat" sequel, now is it. Sure enough, comedic daredevil madman Sacha Baron Cohen made a sequel to his uproarious 2006 hit on the sly during the coronavirus, and it couldn't have come at a better time.

At the film's beginning, we learn that Borat has been a prisoner in a work camp during the years since the previous film, with which he embarrassed his home nation of Kazakhstan. But he is let out by the nation's president for the purpose of taking another trip to the United States, where he is to ingratiate himself to Donald Trump's inner circle because Kazakhstan's president is envious that other dictators around the world are getting love from the U.S. president - and he isn't.

Borat is to take a prize monkey - known as the nation's top entertainer - and present it as a gift to Mike Pence, but upon arriving in the United States, Borat realizes that his estranged teenage daughter, Tutar (Irina Nowak), has snuck into the crate and the monkey is now dead. Borat then devises a plan to offer up his daughter as a gift to Pence, whom he describes as the United States' "number-one ladies man" since it is well known that Pence cannot be left alone with another woman without his wife present.

"Borat Subsequent Moviefilm" has its share of funny - and outrageous - moments. It's not quite as funny or original as the 2006 film, which was a shockingly hilarious sleeper. The first half of the sequel focuses more on shock value gags - a fertility dance at a southern cotillion, for example - but once it sets its sights on U.S. politics and our current national culture, it hits many of its marks.

Similar to the sketch comedy character and the previous film, one of the most amazing things Cohen is able to do is to get so-called ordinary Americans to make stunningly horrific proclamations or treat awful behavior as normal. For example, he asks a woman at a southern clothing store what the best outfit is for a "racist family," and she calmly gives him some suggestions.

During another, he gets a breast implant doctor to hit on his supposedly underage daughter, and during a visit to a southern clinic, he leads the doctor there on to believe that his daughter has been impregnated by her father, to which the doctor tells him that he wouldn't consider aborting it because regardless of how the baby ended up in the girl's belly, it's "God's plan." During a visit to a bakery, he gets a woman to cheerfully agree to write "The Jews won't replace us" on a cake he's buying.

The two most outrageous and risky gags involve a trip to an anti-COVID-19-shutdown rally and a now legendary meet-up with former New York Mayor Rudy Giuliani. The former takes place after Borat has spent a few nights living with two QAnon members, who believe the Clintons drink the blood of newborns. He attends the rally, where gun toting, confederate flag waving racists cheer him on while he pretends to be a country singer on stage, belting out a song that includes horrific imagery of chopping up journalists "like the Saudis do," and convincing the crowd to sing along.

Although Borat sort of confronts Pence at a CPAC conference early in the film, it's the Giuliani meeting that is the most jaw dropping. Tutar, who has become a journalist by the end of the picture, interviews Giuliani in a hotel room and her ingratiating behavior prompts him to follow her into a bedroom, where he proceeds to stick his hand down his pants while reclined on a bed - tucking in his shirt, sure. 

The film's finale finds the most outright call to action I've seen in Cohen's work during an event he and his daughter are covering as journalists. It pokes fun at the United States' aversion to scientists and includes a surprising turn in the way Borat and his village view women.

"Borat Subsequent Moviefilm" is often fairly funny - especially during its second half - even if it doesn't quite live up to the first picture. Cohen deserves credit not only for the great lengths and great dangers he goes to to get a laugh, but also how he was able to make this film during the coronavirus and land heavy blows against something - the Trump administration - that has already been the butt of so many jokes, and make it feel fresh. It's often not for the feint of heart - but then, again neither is ordinary life these days.

Review: David Byrne's American Utopia

Image courtesy of Amazon.

Spike Lee's "David Byrne's American Utopia" starts off as an energetic concert film featuring the legendary Talking Heads frontman, and ends up as something else - a deeper, cathartic exploration of human connection at a time when it feels the divide in our country has grown wider. Byrne recognizes this, and tackles it head on throughout his show.

Byrne wrote the album "American Utopia" two years ago with Brian Eno, and it ended up becoming a Broadway show. Filmed at the Hudson Theater in New York City in late 2019, the intentionally minimalist stage show - and there's a reason for that relating to human connection - includes some songs from that album, but also includes Talking Heads classics such as "Once in a Lifetime," "Born Under Punches," "This Must Be the Place" and "Burning Down the House."

For about two-thirds of the film, we are treated to the typically energetic stage presence of Byrne, who was once involved in one of the greatest of all concert films - Jonathan Demme's "Stop Making Sense." He and his talented multi-ethnic, multi-national backup band perform their numbers with gusto, occasionally taking a break so that Byrne can chit chat with the audience - for example, whether they'd rather look at a stage full of humans, a beautiful sky or a bag of chips. Not surprisingly, his quirky persona peeks through in these monologues.

If for no other reason, "American Utopia" would be recommended for its intoxicating aura - impressive musicianship is coupled with choreography and stylistic visual techniques courtesy of Lee that make it very watchable, even for those unfamiliar with Byrne's music. There's a lot going on on for a concert that is fairly low on stage design and effects.

But then, toward the end of the show, Byrne brings back the theme of connectivity and adds a political component and social commentary that just seem to fit quite well. First, he talks about a voting initiative in which he has been engaged, and the film uses lighting effects to show how few people actually vote by singling out groups of people in the audience via stage lights.

Then, he launches into a powerful cover of Janelle Monae's protest song "Hell You Talmbout?," which she sang at the Women's March on Washington in 2017. Byrne said he was hesitant to include the song in the show as an aging white man - but Monae told him the song was for everyone. The song - which has a repetitive structure - shouts out the names of Black women and men who have been murdered - mostly by police. The names include Sean Bell, Eric Garner and Emmett Till, and the chorus repeats "say their name." Images of people holding up their pictures accompany the music, and it culminates with images of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor.

This number is immediately followed by the lovely a cappella a "One Fine Day," which tells us, "Then a peace of mind fell over me; in these troubled times, I still can see; we can use the stars to guide the way; it is not that far, one fine day." Then, almost as some sort of cosmic joke, this is followed by the closer, "Road to Nowhere," during which Byrne and his band march through the audience.

"American Utopia" combines the sensibilities of its two artists - Byrne, whose imagination and musical abilities have made him one of the most unique musical figures of the past 40-some years; and Lee, who's long been a great director, but has really been on fire as of late. The picture is a very good concert film, but it's also a hopeful performance that sees a brighter future arising out of the darkness.

Review: The Trial Of The Chicago 7

Image courtesy of Netflix.

Aaron Sorkin's Netflix-produced "The Trial of the Chicago 7" is, of course, based on the actual courtroom proceeding in which eight individuals - activists Abbie Hoffman, Tom Hayden, Jerry Rubin, Lee Weiner, John Froines, David Dellinger, Rennie Davis and Black Panther Party leader Bobby Seale - were charged with crossing state lines to incite a riot following their involvement in protests at the 1968 Democratic Convention in Chicago. The trial was marked by antics - Hoffman's outbursts - as well as a hostile and antagonistic judge, Julius Hoffman (Frank Langella), and the actual gagging of one of the defendants (Seale).

But while some of the courtroom proceedings here are interesting - and some other moments therein drag on a bit - the film's bright spots are its eerie comparisons of the struggles of yesteryear with those of today - for example, a scene in which riot police in Chicago remove the badges bearing their names, similar to scenes across the United States this past summer during Black Lives Matter protests; the concept of an out-of-control Department of Justice targeting political enemies; or the dangers presented by incompetent men (in this case, Langella's judge) in power.

But mostly, the film bounces the various personalities of its characters off one another - Seale (Yahya Abdul Mateen II) is righteously indignant, Hoffman (played by Sacha Baron Cohen) clownish but smarter than expected when given the chance and Hayden (Eddie Redmayne) is conflicted due to his wanting to stand up to the system, but understanding the optics of being disrespectful in a courtroom and challenging police officers. John Carroll Lynch portrays Dellinger, a pacifist who aims to keep his ideals intact at a volatile moment, and Mark Rylance is particularly good as William Kunstler, the group's lawyer.

While the scenes set in the immediate present (1969) - in which the group consults with Kunstler or argues over tactics - play fairly smoothly, some of the flashbacks are less successful and feel too meticulously staged. There's also an ongoing introduction of past moments - in the summer of 1968 - by Hoffman as he performs some sort of standup routine that becomes a not-so-effective storytelling device.

Regardless of its flaws, the cast and the inherent interest in this particular case and moment in American history keep the proceedings lively and compelling. As a writer, Sorkin is often among the best in his field - especially his terrific script for "The Social Network." As a director, this is his second attempt - the first was the solid "Molly's Game" - and it's a film that works more often than it doesn't. 

I appreciated the way the parallels to today are thoughtfully explored in the film - the often repeated phrase "the whole world is watching" has never felt more relevant - and found some moments to be rousing even when the movie occasionally feels overlong and a little indulgent. All in all, it's pretty decent.

Review: On The Rocks

Image courtesy of A24.

Sofia Coppola's latest film, "On the Rocks," is a breezy comedy with a melancholic air to it, somewhat similar to her great "Lost in Translation," although not as profound as that picture. It's also her best movie in about 10 years.

The film follows the story of a thirty-something New York City-based mother named Laura (Rashida Jones) who comes to question whether her husband, Dean (Marlon Wayans), is cheating or just really busy with work. He's rarely around due to work, and Laura gets the indication that he's pretty chummy with an attractive woman who is working with him on the project that calls for him to sprint off to Los Angeles, Mexico and other places constantly. Her closest friend (played by Jenny Slate) spends much of their time together going on and on about her own relationship woes.

Laura makes the mistake of bringing up her quandary with her aging lothario father Felix (Bill Murray), who instantly sees an adventure in involving himself in his daughter's affairs. While you can't exactly describe the relationship between Laura and Felix as estranged, it's clear she didn't approve of the extramarital affairs in which he engaged when he was married to her mother, and Laura wonders why Felix - the man out to charm everyone in the room - can't speak to women without flirting.

This is the type of performance in which Murray excels - he's funny, snarky and a bit of a cad, but good natured to the extent that he finds himself singing duets with musicians as resorts and cheerfully talking cops out of giving him tickets for driving recklessly. Jones, in some ways, has the tougher performance and nails the more somber elements of it.

Possible clues pile up regarding Dean's fidelity, leading Felix to suggest that he and Laura spy on Dean, trailing him around the city and checking his text messages. These are funny scenes - and there are a lot of other good chuckles in the picture thanks to Murray - but they also provide some nice moments involving parents and their children bonding in older age. Laura at one point even calls out Felix's scheme to track Dean as a means of having an excuse to hang out with her.

As I'd mentioned, "On the Rocks," while often very good, isn't on par with "Lost in Translation" or Coppola's other early films, such as "The Virgin Suicides" or "Marie Antoinette." It's light and breezy and runs a brief 97 minutes, but it packs a punch because beneath the laughs there's a fair amount of emotional heft. "On the Rocks" is an engaging hang-out movie with two likable leads. Although its end is, perhaps, a little too tidy, the picture mostly works like a charm.

Review: The Glorias

Image courtesy of Amazon.

 Much like Todd Hayne's approach in his brilliant Bob Dylan biopic phantasmagoria "I'm Not There," Julie Taymor's "The Glorias" uses four actresses to portray the iconic writer and activist Gloria Steinem, often including several of the actresses in one scene riding along in a bus discussing different stages of her life. Taymor's picture is ambitious, displays visual flair and always remains interesting, even if it occasionally feels a little overlong and overstuffed - an animation sequence, for example, probably wasn't necessary.

Regardless, the four actresses portraying Steinem - Julianne Moore, Alicia Vikander, Ryan Kiera Armstrong and Lulu Wilson as well as Steinem herself, who pops up in documentary footage from the Women's March in 2017 - give strong performances as they portray the Toledo, Ohio-born activist at various stages of her life.

Steinem's travels on the road with her father, Leo (Timothy Hutton), the type of guy always looking to make a dime from legit and not-so-legit means, obviously made an impact on the young woman, so as the past and present mingle throughout the film, we see Gloria as a young girl with her family - which also includes a sister and a mentally unwell mother, who was also a journalist when she was younger - often on the move, but also traveling by herself through India to meet with women from the lower caste to hear their stories.

As Gloria (at this point portrayed by Vikander) tries to make it into the world of journalism, she is disgusted by the chauvinistic attitudes she experiences - she is only allowed to do fashion-related articles; following a break-through article in which she goes undercover as a Playboy bunny, her male coworkers want more of the same; an editor nonchalantly tells her to meet him at a motel; and her suggestions to cover stories of value - the March on Washington, for example - are met with skepticism as to whether she's up for the job.

Steinem's journalistic work soon takes a back seat to her activism, and she reluctantly takes on speaking engagements, despite her fear of public speaking. She tackles such issues as farm workers' rights, abortion, equal pay, race and others, and begins to come into her own voice as an activist. Eventually, she'll go on to found Ms. magazine along with a group of other women, including the feisty Flo Kennedy (Lorraine Toussaint) and Dorothy Pitman Hughes (Janelle Monae). Bette Midler pops up as former Congresswoman Bella Abzug, while Monica Sanchez portrays Dolores Huerta.

The movie remains compelling throughout, even if it feels as if a whole lot of material was squeezed into its nearly two-and-a-half hour running time. Steinem often felt compelled to rebuff sexist questions during interviews about her love life or her reasons for not having married - so, when the film finally involves her brief marriage at a late age, it comes out of nowhere with little introduction and feels tacked on without much purpose.

Regardless, "The Glorias" has much to recommend - it tells a significant story about one of the pivotal figures of the Women's Rights Movement, and with panache. All four actresses are very good in their roles, with Vikander doing a great job of portraying Steinem's no-nonsense approach to male chauvinism, but also the wonder she experienced traveling around the country and the world. Moore is solid as Steinem in her later years, and there's a great moment at the beginning of the film in which she stops at a biker bar and is recognized by some other patrons.

Similar to Taymor's other films - "Frida" and "Titus," for example - the film experiments with various film stocks and visual tricks, some of which are more effective than others. But overall, "The Glorias" is an engaging movie about a fascinating person.

Review: Kajillionaire

Image courtesy of Focus Features.

Miranda July is sort of the eccentric Donna Tartt of filmmaking - she makes a movie about once a decade and her work displays its own unique voice. Her debut feature, "Me and You and Everyone You Know," was a rightfully acclaimed low budget indie, but her follow up - "The Future" - was a sophomore slump, an oddball indie comedy trying too hard to be quirky.

Her latest, "Kajillionaire," is another exercise in low budget quirky indie filmmaking, but it has more to offer than her previous film, although it's not nearly as successful as her debut. The film opens with a low rent criminal couple - Robert (Richard Jenkins) and Theresa (Debra Winger) - and their offbeat daughter, Old Dolio (Evan Rachel Wood), whose name provides for the film's funniest running joke, in the midst of their latest scheme. Old Dolio sneaks into the post office, opens a locker, places her thin arm through and steals mail from adjoining lockers.

The trio is barely surviving - they sleep in an abandoned office space located next to a car wash - the suds leak through the walls and they catch them in buckets - and they are constantly trying to sneak by their landlord, to whom they owe several months worth of rent. After a scheme involving a trip to New York City fails to bring in instant money, Robert and Theresa connect with an affable, charming and good looking young woman named Melanie (Gina Rodriguez) on the flight back.

For some inexplicable reason, the couple invites the Puerto Rican woman in on their schemes, which doesn't exactly please Old Dolio, although she knows her parents will likely end up scamming the new partner anyway. Melanie contributes her own ideas. Her work involves visiting lonely elderly people, and she suggests stealing some small items from their homes that they might not miss.

At the center of the story is Old Dolio's many neuroses - mostly stemming from the fact that she doesn't know whether her parents love her as their child or merely see her as another partner in their criminal schemes. They always insist on splitting everything three ways in a matter of fact manner. Also, romantic feelings - occasionally reciprocated, other times one sided - develop between several characters, making matters more complicated.

"Kajillionaire" has its share of moments - occasionally funny, sometimes moving - but the film shares some of the problems with July's previous film, "The Future." It often feels as if it's trying too hard to be twee, even though it's closer in quality to "Me and You and Everyone We Know," and lays pretty hard on the quirky elements, especially Old Dolio's often erratic and bizarre behavior - a scene in which she displays ecstatic joy after an earthquake in a convenient store is, well, something.

I can't quite recommend the picture, although there are elements to like. There's good camaraderie among the cast, there are enough funny bits to keep it entertaining and Rodriguez gives a scene stealing performance as Melanie, who seems to stick with this motley crew because she could use the money, doesn't have many friends and doesn't have much else to do.

Wood has a more challenging performance as Old Dolio, a young woman who has been denied much human affection from her family and seems to be lost inside the oversized track suits she often dons and the long stringy hair that hides her face. It's the type of performance that could slip into self parody - and the screenplay occasionally threatens to do so - but Wood manages to keep it on track.

Ultimately, "Kajillionaire" feels a little too manufactured in its oddness, and an ending that is meant to be sweet comes off as unexpected and slightly random. But there are some elements here that work, so I'd describe July's third film as a flawed one, but of interest to fans of the director's work and those who enjoy offbeat narratives.

Review: Antebellum

Image courtesy of Lionsgate.

"Antebellum" is a stylish horror thriller with some intriguing ideas, but a major plot twist that completely changes the reality of the story is more faulty than it is clever, and while many of the film's concepts are timely in a very unsettling manner, they could have been put to better use than in a genre film of this type.

No doubt about it, "Antebellum" is great to look at - with its visual palettes, camera movements and art direction - and one has to give credit for its trying to give viewers something to chew on, even if it's in the service of a movie that relishes twists more than it does a political statement. Also, while it's great to see Gabourey Sibide in the first movie I recall seeing her in for a while, the amount of time spent with her character is... a little too much.

The film opens on a plantation, where a slave named Eden (Janelle Monae) is given somewhat preferential treatment due to the fact that she's forced to sleep with a vicious older Confederate general. She tells the other slaves on the plantation to keep their heads down and to bide their time. Meanwhile, Eden watches in horror as a young woman slave who attempts to flee is murdered in front of her husband. 

The plantation scenes are not surprisingly filled with abject cruelty - for example, a young pregnant slave is forced to spend time with a young Confederate who acts shyly, that is, until he gets her alone and is abusive and evil as the rest of the white soldiers or denizens of the plantation. There's also a particularly cruel overseer in the plantation's fields, and a white woman (Jena Malone) who lives with her family on the property and brings her daughter round to inspect new arrivals.

Then, something strange happens. We cut to the present, where Monae plays Veronica, a talking head type whose latest book on black women's struggles in America has led to her appearing on newscasts, where she debates MAGA types. At home, she has a husband and young daughter. She meets up for drinks with some old friends - including Sibide as the chatty one. 

Meanwhile, strange things are afoot - a young girl dressed in clothes from the past wanders around the hotel where Veronica is staying as part of her book tour. Malone pops back up - with an exaggerated southern accent - as a woman wanting to discuss Veronica's book, although Veronica finds her suspicious. Someone sends her flowers, but Veronica can't figure out who did it.

What exactly is going on, you might ask at this point? The question will soon be answered, and the plot twist, resembling one from an old M. Night Shyamalan movie, lands with a great big thud - not because you can't envision certain people involved in the twist wanting to do the things they do, but rather the fact that they're able to carry it off. 

There's a major issue with this twist - which I'm really trying to conceal here - in the manner that certain characters speak and behave. In the scenes before we know the twist, they do so in a way that is believable, given what we're led to believe. Later, when they speak and behave in a way more suited to the story as we've come to understand it, the film's earlier scenes become less believable. I know, that sounds really vague. But the film's big twist is one that, while I'm sure the filmmakers found it to be juicy, fails in execution.

Also, movies about slavery - much like films about concentration camps - are often difficult to witness because we know that things similar to the cruelty depicted onscreen actually occurred. Some genre films - "Django Unchained," for example - have successfully mingled exploitation tactics with historical horrors - perhaps, one of the reasons Tarantino's film worked so well was because it was cathartic to see a slave rise up and kill plantation owners. 

Maybe it's just this moment in time in our nation's history that makes it hard to watch the horrors of slavery provide a backdrop for a genre movie involving plot twists, thriller elements and creepy horror movie tropes. Perhaps it feels too much is at stake in real life for such horrors to be utilized for the sake of cheap thrills. 

Regardless, "Antebellum" is a handsomely made genre movie, and Monae does a good job of juggling a somewhat complex role. And, without giving too much away, there is catharsis in this film when we finally reach the point when the racist villains get their comeuppance. But while "Antebellum" has some elements that make it watchable, it feels disjointed.

Review: The Broken Hearts Gallery

Image courtesy of TriStar.

"The Broken Hearts Gallery" gave me low expectations in its early scenes with its overtly quirky hipster dialogue, but it eventually settles into being a somewhat charming - if not wholly believable - rom com with an agreeable lead character.

Geraldine Viswanathan plays Lucy, an assistant to a famous art gallery owner (played by Bernadette Peters) who wants to one day have a place of her own to exhibit art. But this dream plays second fiddle to her obsessing about ex's and her collection of memorabilia from previous failed relationships. Her two roommates - Nadine (Phillipa Soo) and Amanda (Molly Gordon) - find Lucy's collection to be slightly unsettling, but she sees the objects - from a rubber ducky to a bizarre-looking Barbie doll with frizzy hair - as being permanent in a way her relationships were not.

After being dumped by her latest boyfriend, Max (Utkarsh Ambudkar), whose ambition exceeds his empathy, she gets drunk and hops into a car she believes to be an Uber - it's not. This is the - to use a Roger Ebert phrase - "meet cute" she'll have with Nick (Dacre Montgomery), an affable guy who's in the middle of planning a boutique hotel in Manhattan.

After becoming friends with Nick, Lucy visits him at his hotel-in-progress. While there, she hangs a tie from her former beau on a nail on the wall and adds a description. An idea pops into her head: Why not create an exhibit completely of memorabilia from relationships gone bad? Hence, the film's title. Needless to say, she moves forward with the plan and Nick grudgingly agrees to let Lucy use space in his hotel - known as the Chloe - for the exhibit.

It may not surprise you to hear that "The Broken Hearts Gallery" is the type of film in which lowly assistants live in posh pads in Manhattan or that dreams can come true in a matter of weeks with just the right amount of pluck. There's even a scene in which a speech Lucy is giving to a group of people is interrupted by a "grand gesture" from Nick - which some might find to be an example of movies insisting that female characters emphasize their love lives before their careers. In other words, we're in standard rom com territory.

What makes Natalie Krinsky's film slightly more watchable than average examples of this genre is Viswanathan, whose never-ending, rapid fire delivery and Lucy's wear-your-quirks-on-your-sleeve personality eventually become endearing. The picture also pays a fair amount of attention to its supporting characters - from Lucy's roommates to Nick and his construction partner, Marcos (Arturo Castro), and Marcos's very pregnant wife - which is nice.

So, yes, "The Broken Hearts Gallery" often follows romantic comedy cliches - often to its detriment - and I can't exactly say the film is an overall success. But its leading lady, the supporting cast and a few good laughs and charming moments make it watchable enough.

Review: Nomad: In The Footsteps Of Bruce Chatwin

Image courtesy of Music Box Films.

It makes sense that legendary German director Werner Herzog and English travel writer Bruce Chatwin, who died in 1989 due to complications from AIDS, would have been friends. Herzog's work - from his epics about adventurers with mad visions ("Aguirre: The Wrath of God" and "Fitzcarraldo") to globe trotting documentaries that have taken him from Iraq to Alaska - has often been defined by a sense of restlessness and a penchant toward setting out into the great unknown in search of experience. 

Chatwin, quite the world traveler himself, produced work - novels and cultural studies - that would fit into Herzog's areas of interest. In fact, Herzog adapted one of Chatwin's works, "The Viceroy of Ouidah," into the 1987 film "Cobra Verde," which was the third film in which he'd directed cinema's great madman, Klaus Kinski, as a man traveling to a foreign locale and attempting to conquer it.

"Nomad: In the Footsteps of Bruce Chatwin," Herzog's latest documentary, is a chronicle of Chatwin's life, but also specifically a story about the duo's friendship, and how Chatwin's travels inspired Herzog to follow in his footsteps to such places as South America and Australia. Utilizing some gorgeous drone footage, "Nomad" is a travelogue documentary in which Herzog honors his friend by keeping his mythos alive, but also introducing audiences to his work and the fascinating places and cultures it portrayed.

Two of Chatwin's works, "In Patagonia" and "The Songlines," draw much of the film's focus. In the former, Chatwin was inspired by what he believed to be a piece of brontosaurus skin - it turned out to be a giant sloth - to travel to the region where it was found. Chatwin's fascination with the skin and even some feces from the animal that have been preserved displays the writer's ability to transform something mundane into a storytelling device and open worlds of possibility for those with the knack for travel and history.

Herzog is obviously fascinated by "The Songlines," which interestingly enough tells of how some Aboriginals in Australia use songs - rather than maps - and other mnemonics for travel. Perhaps, as a filmmaker, Herzog is captivated by the concept of storytelling and art as a means to get people from point A to point B - even from birth to death - in their own journey.

Some might consider "Nomad" to be a smaller - or more minor, if you will - Herzog documentary, especially when faced with such a masterpiece as "Grizzly Man," something so topical as "Lessons of Darkness" or a film on life or death matters like "Into the Abyss." That may be so, but it's still often spellbinding and gorgeous to look at. 

Many people have suffered through slide shows of travel photos from friends or family - but in the case of "Nomad," the story being told, the journey being described and the places being chronicled are often mesmerizing. This is one of the year's better documentaries.

Review: I'm Thinking Of Ending Things

Image courtesy of Netflix.

"It's good to remind yourself that the world is larger than the inside of your own head," says a character in Charlie Kaufman's equally fascinating and maddening new film, "I'm Thinking of Ending Things," based on the novel of the same name by Iain Reid. But by the end of the picture, one might ask oneself whether that's true at all. What's to say that one's interior life - or a fantasy one concocts and makes true in one's own mind - isn't any more real than the, as one character puts it, "objective reality" we all face day to day. Or, as Keanu once put it, "whoa." 

The film often plays like a horror movie, even though it's not exactly that, and it doesn't reveal itself until its final moments, although I was able to figure out what was going on fairly early in the film. That didn't ruin any surprises for me because part of the pleasure - and frustration - with Kaufman's third film as a director is figuring out how everything will be pieced together - sort of.

The film opens with a 20-minute sequence during which a young woman (Jessie Buckley), whose name is occasionally Yvonne and sometimes Lucy and later Amy, travels through a snowy winter landscape with her boyfriend, Jake (Jesse Plemons), on the way to meet his parents - played by Toni Collette and David Thewlis - who live on a farm in Oklahoma. At one juncture, she ponders why a brand new swing set is sitting in the yard of an abandoned house.

While en route to the farm, Lucy (or Yvonne or Amy) thinks to herself that she might dump Jake - "I'm thinking of ending things," she says to herself - and it's almost as if Jake can read her thoughts. Are the thoughts Yvonne (or Lucy or Amy) is thinking her own - or did someone put them in her head? 

During one of the many discussions between the young woman and Jake - which cover everything from David Foster Wallace and Guy Debord's "The Society of the Spectacle" to the use of the word "wow" and whether "Baby, It's Cold Outside" is "rapey," but also include an odd sequence in which Yvonne (or Lucy or Amy) regurgitates Pauline Kael's review of the John Cassavetes film "A Woman Under the Influence" and passes it off as her own thoughts - the concept is brought up that every person is many people. In other words, our own personalities are made up of other's opinions. When we argue about the quality of, say, a book or movie, we often pass other's thoughts or arguments off as our own. Where do all of the movies, books, theories, political positions, art works and music that influence us end and where do we actually begin?

Once we arrive at the farmhouse where Jake grew up, we are firmly in David Lynch territory. After Jake regales the young woman with a disconcerting story about a pig infested with maggots and she notices a series of scratches on the door leading to the basement - which Jake seemingly doesn't want her to enter - we finally meet his parents, who strangely get younger and age rapidly as the night wears on. Collette takes her performance from "Hereditary" one step further, continually breaking into uncomfortably long and forced laughs, while Thewlis repeats stories over and over.

After Yvonne (or Lucy or Amy, sometimes referred to as "Ames") convinces Jake to head back home - it is, after all, snowing heavily outside - they take part in another long conversation behind the wheel, this one seemingly more bleak and dour than the one at the beginning. They stop at a small ice cream parlor, where the young women attending the counter behave strangely, and then finally arrive at Jake's old high school, where he claims he wants to get rid of the cups holding the ice cream, which are dripping on his car.

By the way, I haven't yet mentioned that throughout these entire proceedings, we continually cut back to a lonesome looking janitor, who sweeps the floors of a high school and occasionally sits mournfully in front of the TV - during one particular oddball moment, he watches an absurd rom com that culminates with the credit sequence "Directed by Robert Zemeckis." Later in the film, the acceptance speech from "A Beautiful Mind" is regurgitated and there are several scenes in which songs from the musical "Oklahoma!" are performed.

What in the hell, you may ask, is going on? Eventually, we find out - although, as I'd mentioned, my guess about the janitor's purpose proved to be correct - and the finale gives perspective to the entire endeavor. Kaufman has long been considered one of filmdom's most creative - and unique - screenwriters. His screenplays include the brilliant "Being John Malkovich," "Adaptation" and "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind." In all three instances, his words were utilized by filmmakers with vision.

His directorial work has been a little less successful, although there are many who'd disagree with me. Many found "Synechdoche, NY" to be brilliant, but after two tries I could merely appreciate its vision, without actually finding myself that moved by it. "Anomalisa" was better, but still not as great as the films adapted from his screenplays.

"I'm Thinking of Ending Things" is, at least in my opinion, his best directorial work yet. At times, it feels a little overlong, and its finale - which is supposed to be its emotional crescendo - disappointed me, although I could appreciate what it was trying to do. For me, it was a matter of execution failing a good idea. That being said, the film gave me much to chew on - certainly more than can be expressed in the form of a relatively short review like this one. "I'm Thinking of Ending Things" is a challenging movie, and one that is sure to put many people off. But appreciators of surrealism and films that challenge one's notions of self and time, while playing with themes of regret and the influence of art, might be fascinated by this movie.

Review: Tenet

Image courtesy of Warner Bros.

Considered to be the movie that could finally draw moviegoers back to theaters after a five-and-a-half month shutdown due to the coronavirus pandemic, Christopher Nolan's "Tenet" is likely to leave those who venture out to see it scratching their heads. This should come as no surprise, considering that Nolan is responsible for the brilliant mind-bender "Memento" and the brain teaser "Inception," but his latest, while visually gorgeous, has more diminishing returns.

Let me reiterate: "Tenet" is often great to look at - it has some beautiful camerawork and stunning special effects, especially those portraying a world moving backwards. But the film is often more confusing than intriguing and its time-traveling plot involving an attempt to steal pieces of a weapon and the algorithm to enable a world-ending device feels pretty rote when you attempt to explain it in a linear fashion.

The film opens with a stunning action sequence during which an individual known merely as The Protagonist (John David Washington) and a SWAT team prevent a kidnapping at the symphony in Kiev, only to find himself taken hostage by the terrorist organization that attempted to carry out the plot. The Protagonist takes a cyanide pill, but rather than dying finds himself in a hospital, where an intelligence officer (Martin Donovan) explains that the pill was merely a test, and that The Protagonist is being considered for a vital mission.

That mission involves attempting to pass off a fake Goya to an art dealer (played by Elizabeth Debicki), who is married to a ruthless Russian arms dealer (Kenneth Branagh) who might be in possession of some material that enables time to move backwards. He is given one example of a bullet that possesses "reverse radiation," and watches as it moves backward instead of forward. The Protagonist is partnered with a mysterious man named Neil ( a suave Robert Pattinson), who helps him with his mission.

The Protagonist is told that a battle is playing out in the future, and elements that will allow for the annihilation of the world have been buried in the past, so his mission is to ensure these elements are removed from the wrong hands - Branagh's Russian gangster and his minions - and hidden to ensure they do not endanger mankind.

Although previous Nolan films have drawn some criticism regarding the possibility of their heady themes, the much better "Interstellar" was, in fact, vetted by physicists, whereas "Tenet" appears to aim to confuse its audience to the point that questioning its concepts seems futile. I've tried explaining the story in this review, but there's no doubt I've barely skimmed its surface. The problem is that no matter how much deeper you dig, I'm not sure there's much enlightenment to be found.

That being said, the film has its share of impressive visuals and action sequences - the symphony attack and a chase scene on a highway are among the best - and there are a few moments when the past and the future click into place - for example, a phone call placed for the sake of "posterity" and a fight scene that is repeated twice, but with the second time providing more context.

But all in all, "Tenet" is one of Nolan's weaker films. At his best - "Memento" and "Dunkirk," for example - Nolan is one of big budget filmmaking's most consistently intriguing storytellers. This time around, however, it feels as if he's bitten off more than he can chew. The film can be engrossing, but it's ultimately an example of too much going on at the service of too little payoff.