Review: The Power Of The Dog

Image courtesy of Netflix.

Jane Campion's "The Power of the Dog" is the type of movie that really appeals to me. It's a slow burn western that only slowly reveals itself and then percolates in the brain for hours after you've seen it. It's anchored by a knockout performance by Benedict Cumberbatch - who displays none of the charm for which he's known and portrays a ferocious character that bears some similarity to Daniel Day Lewis's Daniel Plainview - and features stunning photography and a doozy of an ending that I only completely figured out about 30 minutes after the film ended.

Campion has long been a director with a distinctive voice - from her early "An Angel at My Table" and the now-classic "The Piano" to her gripping "Top of the Lake" miniseries - and she's back in fine form here with "The Power of the Dog," which is her first feature film in 12 years. The picture is, for lack of a better phrase, a neo-western that could play on a double bill somewhere with films such as "There Will Be Blood" and "No Country for Old Men" as it features some similar ideas and visual touches.

The picture features a series of power struggles between its four lead characters, and it's not until after the film has ended that we realize just how intense these struggles are. The film opens with two rancher brothers - soft spoken George (Jesse Plemons) and Phil (Cumberbatch), who's covered head to toe in dirt for much of the film (in fact, at one point, he bathes naked in mud), and has a soul that is just as grimy - stopping on a drive at a small tavern, where the proprietress, Rose (Kirsten Dunst), and her gangly school-bound son, Peter (Kodi Smit-McPhee), who wants to be a surgeon, serve them and their men dinner.

Phil, an apex predator if there ever was one, ridicules Peter's penchant for decorating the establishment's tables with fake flowers and isn't much kinder to Rose. George, embarrassed by his brother's unruly behavior, sticks around to apologize and, before we know it, he and Rose have struck up a relationship and gotten married. From the start, it's easy to see how the power dynamics will play out. Phil likes being in control, and Rose gets in the way of his domination of the gentle George - meanwhile, Peter is away at school. 

Rose, whose previous husband committed suicide, is fragile and clearly has a drinking problem, all of which Phil observes and stores away for future use. Phil has a few secrets of his own. He often makes reference to "Bronco" Henry, a mentor who taught him how to ride a horse and was, seemingly, his lover. On a trip home from school, Peter spies Phil swimming in the nude and finds a trunk where a number of magazines depicting men in the nude are hidden.

In an attempt to impress the governor (Keith Carradine) - the film is set in 1925 Montana, although the breathtaking backdrops were all shot in New Zealand, Campion's home country - George has promised him, among several other dinner guests, that Rose will play the piano for him. She tries to get out of this performance, but is put on the spot and chokes. During earlier scenes, she tries to practice the piece that she'd play at the dinner party, but Phil keeps interrupting her by playing the same song on his banjo. Later, he hides around the corner from where she's sitting, taunting her by whistling that same tune over and over, and prompting her to crack open a bottle.

But once Peter arrives to live with the brothers - George is often barely a presence, disappearing for long stretches, leaving Rose alone to fend for herself against Phil's mind games - the story begins to hurtle toward its tragic and brilliantly diabolical conclusion. Rose hates the way in which Phil has seemingly taken a shine to her son - or has he? - and begins to teach him how to ride a horse, tie a knot and other tasks his own mentor taught him. 

There are a series of events that lead to one character's fate, and it was only after carefully rethinking the events of the film's final quarter that I realized why the story turned out the way it did for that particular character. There are visual clues throughout, but the way in which Campion makes you work for the answer is pretty masterful. This is the type of film that demands a rewatch, which is something I intend to do when "The Power of the Dog" is available for streaming next week on Netflix.

Much like her best work - especially "The Piano" - Campion's latest film, which is based on the 1967 novel of the same name by Thomas Savage, is about the balance of power between various characters. While films like "The Piano" and "Bright Star" often had a feminist theme running through them, and strong women sparring with men, the woman in her latest film - Dunst's Rose - presents a threat of sorts to the male-dominant order of the brothers' ranch. Rose and Peter's arrival set into motion the events - driven by Phil, but later by others - that lead to the stunning climax. 

"The Power of the Dog" is the definition of a film that sneaks up on you, and is proof that Campion really needs to get behind the camera more often. The film takes patience, but it's dutifully rewarded for those who give themselves over to the spell it casts.

Review: House Of Gucci

Image courtesy of United Artists Releasing.

Ridley Scott's "House of Gucci" is part compelling true crime drama - although it takes some time to get to the crime - and part enjoyable camp fest. On the one hand, Lady Gaga gives a genuinely strong performance as Patrizia Reggiani, the wife of Maurizio Gucci (Adam Driver). On the other, the rest of the cast - which includes Al Pacino, Jared Leto, Jeremy Irons and Salma Hayek -  appear to be having a good time hamming it up. This is not meant as a slight regarding their performances, but it seems pretty obvious that "over the top" was the vibe being sought.

I wasn't too familiar with the Gucci family tragedy - just as I wasn't familiar with the Versaci one either that was detailed in a Netflix miniseries - but it's a classic example of why the adage about not getting family mixed up in business has some truth to it. As the film opens, Maurizio is studying to be a lawyer and isn't too interested in getting involved with his family's clothing empire.

His father, Rodolfo (Irons, who gets my vote for the funniest line readings), wants to lure Maurizio in, whereas his uncle, Aldo (Pacino), and his often ridiculed cousin, Paolo (Leto), are somewhat distant. Rodolfo is none too pleased after Maurizio meets Patrizia at a party, she basically stalks him afterward, convinces him to take her out on a date and ends up having lunch with both father and son. Rodolfo seems at a loss for words after Patrizia tells him that her father works in "ground transportation."

After they marry, Patrizia tries to strong-arm Maurizio into joining the family business, and then convinces him to crack down on his family's flawed business practices. Rodolfo dies - but makes peace with his son before that - while Aldo gets pushed out of the company he expanded and poor Paolo - Leto's character gets the most absurd scenes in the film - can't get any respect or financial benefits as Maurizio and Patrizia overtake the company.

But eventually, Maurizio comes to despise his wife after seeing how she convinced him to alienate his family, and he begins to lose interest in her. Teaming up with a psychic (Hayek) - this friendship is among the film's weaker elements because there's no satisfactory explanation as to how it developed to the point where Patrizia would be conspiring with the woman - the spurned wife first tries to win back her husband, but then settles on a more deadly means of handling the situation.

"House of Gucci" runs a little over two-and-a-half hours. Its running time is occasionally felt, especially during some drawn-out sequences that basically give the actors the opportunity to camp up the proceedings a little - I'm thinking especially of one in which Paolo makes the mistake of visiting his uncle, only to be insulted and inspired to take out his vengeance on Rodolfo's, um, scarf.

So, yes, "House of Gucci" doesn't shy away from being a little ridiculous, all the while remaining a fairly intriguing drama about how a fraught family business ended in murder. Gaga, who already proved she could act in Bradley Cooper's "A Star is Born," is particularly ferocious as Patrizia, a woman who in less than a minute can grieve with her ex-husband's lover before kicking her out of the home in which she lives without batting an eye. 

As Maurizio, Driver gives a more subtle performance as a man who comes off as meek, but can be just as ruthless as the rest of his family when the opportunity arises. And as I'd mentioned, Pacino, Leto and Irons get to have most of the fun as the colorful Gucci family members, while Hayek's role as the psychic friend also adds a little camp.

Scott has made two films this year - the fierce feminist medieval drama "The Last Duel" is the better of the two - that have both been about women's roles among systems of power. In "Duel," we sympathize with the woman whose fate is at the whims of cruel men, whereas the woman who brings down the Gucci family is a shark who isn't afraid to play dirty in a predominantly boys club. Even when it gets a little over the top and its running time is slightly felt, "House of Gucci" is a mostly enjoyable film.

Review: Ghostbusters: Afterlife

Image courtesy of Sony Pictures.

"Ghostbusters: Afterlife" has its moments - a majority of which are courtesy of breakout star McKenna Grace - but it's mostly a combination of an attempt at trying to draw "Stranger Things" fans and nostalgia pandering, including throwback after throwback for longtime fans of the franchise without adding much new to the series, other than some additional cast members.

The film opens with the death of a character from the original series, and while it takes some time to reveal which character it is, certain circumstances - both in the film and in real life - make it pretty clear who it is. The family of the deceased - which includes an estranged daughter, Callie, (Carrie Coon), her son, Trevor (Finn Wolfhard, of "Stranger Things" and seemingly every horror movie with kids from the past five years), and a precocious, science-loving daughter, Phoebe (Grace) - move to a creepy old farm owned by the dead man and move in after they can no longer afford to pay rent on their apartment.

As if perusing a Ghostbusters museum, if such a thing existed, Phoebe, Trevor and a kid named Podcast (Logan Kim) - don't ask - who's in Phoebe's class dig around the defunct farm and find all manner of equipment - proton packs, ghost traps, old video clips from the 1984 movie and the Ghostbusters vehicle, gunner seat and all.

It's not long before Phoebe, Podcast and an eccentric teacher, Grooberson (Paul Rudd) - who's involved in a fairly amusing running joke in which he shows his class completely inappropriate 1980s horror movies rather than teaching them - accidentally release a ghost that travels to a nearby mountain, where some sort of portal is located, thereby explaining why the dead man who owned the farm decided to locate there.

From there on, it's fan service central. Occasionally, this provides for a smile - the reappearance of some cast members from the original film gradually throughout the picture is fun - but often it just feels as if the filmmakers didn't have much new to bring to the series and, therefore, decided to play the greatest hits over and over again.

By far, the best part of the new film is Grace, whose charmingly dorky portrayal of Phoebe suggests a breakout star in the making. The film's best running joke is her dry delivery of dad jokes to anyone she meets in the hope - and belief - that this is the best way to make new friends. Wolfhard, who's pretty good in "Stranger Things," is given little to do, other than fall for the daughter (Celeste O'Connor) of the local sheriff (Bokeem Woodbine), both of whom are given even less to do. 

While it's always great to see Bill Murray, Annie Potts, Dan Aykroyd, Ernie Hudson and - very briefly - Sigourney Weaver back in action, the MVPs of "Afterlife" are Grace and Rudd. Otherwise, we have scenes and dialogue lifted directly from the original 1984 film - "there is no (insert name here), there is only Zuul," a number of mini Stay Puft Marshmallow men, the gatekeeper and the ringmaster's stairway from the netherworld and even a blast of Ray Parker Jr.

"Ghostbusters: Afterlife" isn't as much of a bust as some critics have contended - whereas others have liked it well enough - but it's merely a retread that leans very heavily on nostalgia, most likely in an attempt to reboot the series - again - and make some money in the process. It's never a bad thing to catch up with Murray, Aykroyd, Hudson and company, and Grace's charming Phoebe is a very welcome addition to this series - but let's hope next time, assuming there is one, that all of the callbacks have been exhausted and we get something a little more original.

Review: King Richard

Image courtesy of Warner Bros.

 

For years, Will Smith was one of Hollywood's biggest stars and his name at the top of a film most likely meant success. In recent years, the films to which he has been attached have seen less success, but his performance in "King Richard" should result in some awards attention as well as some juicier roles in the near future. As Richard Williams, the helicopter parent who wouldn't accept no as an answer and father to tennis superstars Venus (portrayed here by Saniyya Sidney) and Serena Williams (Demi Singleton), he gives one of his finest performances to date.

The film is partially a sports biopic - although Venus and Serena take a back seat to the antics of Richard's overbearing father - but also a story about a man so fixated on a plan for his family that he doesn't stop to consider what they want or whether they approve of his decisions. The first third of the film includes scenes involving the game of tennis, but focuses more on Richard's down-and-out luck in Compton, where he and his family live.

In these early scenes, Richard is tormented, beaten and nearly killed by some gang members who have their eyes on his daughter, Tunde (Mikayla Lashae Bartholomew), after he intervenes while they are catcalling her. A scene in which Richard's life almost takes a turn for the worse is interrupted by what can only be described as divine providence. While some might find the scene superfluous, a later sequence in which Richard describes how he was attacked as a boy by some white men and saw his father running away is instructive regarding Richard's interactions with the gang members and his need to feel that he is protecting his family.

Otherwise, the film is split between being an inspiring sports feature - Venus is much more focused on here, whereas Serena lives in her shadow for much of the movie, although we know she later on went on to become the better of the two sisters at tennis - and a drama about a man who never earned respect seeking to obtain complete control in a world where he doesn't feel he belongs. One talent scout even points out how the sport of tennis at that time had done little to interest the Black community.

Although Richard's intentions are often good - he has a point about wanting his daughters to have a childhood - his controlling behavior nearly drives all those around him insane, especially Venus, whom he gets through the door with numerous coaches and other tennis officials, only to refuse to allow her to play in juniors matches - the route taken by all tennis players - and try to call the shots about everything regarding her career.

Smith has a delicate balancing act here. On the one hand, the audience is meant to feel sympathy for Richard and recognize his drive for success coming from a lifetime of near misses. On the other, his personality and dictatorial behavior alienates nearly everyone around him. Smith does a great job of juggling these tasks.

As his wife, Brandy Williams, Aunjanue Ellis does a great job portraying a woman who is in lockstep with her spouse's goals for their daughters - she fiercely wants them to succeed - while also remaining constantly at her wit's end over Richard's tactics. Ellis is especially good in a scene in which she reprimands her husband for nearly making his daughters walk three miles home after they don't act as humble as he'd like after a tennis match, and even better when she goes through a list of all his faults during a squabble in their kitchen.

"King Richard" is a very well acted and compelling film - and it's not likely to be the movie you're expecting. The picture is not the Venus and Serena Williams Story so much as it is the Will Smith Show. As such, with his commanding performance, the actor ensures that this relatively unknown side character involved in the lives of two very well-known public figures never remains anything less than riveting. 

Review: Belfast

Image courtesy of Focus Features.

 

Obviously his most personal film to date, director Kenneth Branagh's "Belfast" is a lovingly rendered period piece that bears some resemblance to such films as "Roma" and "Hope and Glory." Seemingly based on incidents observed in his own childhood, the film details a period of great unrest in Northern Ireland during the late 1960s through the eyes of a 9-year-old boy named Buddy (the charming and expressive Jude Hill).

A dedication in the film's closing credits - "For the ones who stayed. For the ones who left. And for all the ones who were lost" - is a reasonable summary of Branagh's wistful work, which reimagines the titular city of his childhood as one providing the inspiration for great joy, but also posing grave danger. As the film opens, Buddy and his friends - in a mixed Protestant and Catholic neighborhood - are playing in the street to the sounds of Van Morrison, whose songs permeate the soundtrack.

Suddenly, an angry mob descends on the block, looting stores, breaking windows and pushing a burning car down the street that eventually explodes. Buddy's fiercely protective mother (Caitriona Balfe) grabs her two sons and makes them hide under the kitchen table until the melee has ceased. The group causing the disturbance is a number of local Protestants who are calling for other Protestants in mixed neighborhoods to put pressure on their Catholic neighbors to leave.

Buddy's father (Jaime Dornan) is away at the moment - as he usually is - because of his job that requires him to be in England much of the time. During his visits home, he becomes increasingly threatened by a group of young Protestant men who are angry he won't stand with them against the Catholics. At several points in the film, the concept of it taking a village to raise a child is hinted at, and in Buddy's case this is true. The young lad is raised not only by his mother, but also by his wise grandfather (a very good Ciaran Hinds), spunky grandmother (Judy Dench) and a teenage girl who initiates him into a gang by getting him to steal from a local candy store.

Although Northern Ireland's high unemployment rate and the seething tensions between Protestants and Catholics in 1969 are always specters hovering in the background of the film, the scenes obviously based on memory are given equal focus - for example, a family screening of "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang," young Buddy pining outside the window of a girl in his class with whom he is smitten, and Buddy's attempts at improving his grades in school, so that the teacher - who rewards her best students by seating them at the front of the class - will place him next to the girl.

Are there times when the film, perhaps, lays it on a little thick? Sure, there are a few of those, especially a wake that involves Dornan singing a 1960s chestnut and everyone dancing like they're being choreographed in a music video. But on the whole, this is no matter. "Belfast" is a highly enjoyable, nostalgic film about growing up, coming face to face with the horrors of the adult world and, eventually, moving on.

The world just outside Buddy's window may be teeming with hatred and prejudice, but what makes "Belfast" so infectious is the warmth of the characters in the family toward one another - Dench and Hinds have a teasing flirtation, despite having been married for many years, while Dornan and Balfe may argue frequently, mostly over Dornan's suggestion that they flee Belfast and move to Australia, but they live by the motto of not going to bed angry. 

Branagh's film displays a delicate balancing act - giving the very serious nature of Northern Ireland's atmosphere during this era the gravitas it requires, while also crafting a charming memory piece that looks back yearningly on the place where its creator grew up. And what makes "Belfast" so successful is that it is able to switch gears between such tones effortlessly, and because we care about the characters, even the most minor of whom are fully developed. There's already a fair amount of awards talk surrounding this movie, and it's not difficult to see why.

Review: Passing

Image courtesy of Netflix.

Bearing some resemblance to Brit Bennett's excellent 2020 novel, "The Vanishing Half," but also - of course - to the 1929 novel by Nella Larsen upon which it is based, Rebecca Hall's debut directorial effort, "Passing," is a compelling story that switches gears several times before arriving at a hauntingly ambiguous ending. The film shows a decent amount of confidence for a debut feature.

Shot in gorgeous black and white and clocking in at just under 100 minutes, "Passing" tells the story of Irene (Tessa Thompson), the wife of a successful Harlem doctor, Brian (Andre Holland), in the 1920s who also is heavily involved in high society, especially her friendship with a pompous white writer (Bill Camp),  and the Negro Welfare League. 

One day, while sitting in a high-end cafe in Manhattan, she runs into Clare (Ruth Negga), an old high school friend whom she hasn't seen in years. Irene is shocked to notice that Clare is with a white man named John (Alexander Skarsgard), and even more surprised to later learn that Clare has long been passing as white. During a visit to their home, Irene is unsettled at how easily Clare slips into her role around her husband, who is unambiguously racist.

Clare starts showing up unannounced at Irene's door, partly because she's glad to see her old friend, but also because, as she tells Irene, she misses spending time around Black folks. As time goes on, Irene becomes perturbed by Clare's presence, especially after it appears that Brian and Clare have taken up flirting with each other. While Clare formerly inspired pity in Irene, that quickly turns to jealousy and disgust.

There's a fair amount of tension in the film, most notably during a scene in which Irene first meets John and Clare sits there with a blank expression on her face as her husband tells their visitor about how he doesn't like Black people. There's also a series of scenes in which Irene, who believes that she and her family are far removed from white society in Harlem, asks Brian not to continually update the couple's young sons on stories about lynching that pop up in the morning newspaper.

It's an interesting juxtaposition. Irene is physically separated from white people based on where she lives and she doesn't want the horrific actions of white people against Blacks to reach her sons' ears - she tells her husband that they'll have plenty of time when they grow up to learn how awful the world can be. Meanwhile, Clare is now trapped in white society, but longs for an escape back to a world she once knew. Hence, her frequent arrivals on Irene's doorstep.

Much will be made about the film's ambiguous ending. An action takes place, and by the way the film is shot it's hard to tell who's responsible for the aftermath of that action. Three possibilities exist, and it's easy enough to see why any three of them could have occurred. It's a fitting ending to a story centering around an enigma - Clare - and the woman who gets sucked into her orbit. 

As a directorial debut, "Passing" shows a lot of promise for Hall as a director. Much like Bennett's novel, which I read earlier this year, it's an interesting take on a person who attempts to straddle two worlds - and the inevitable tragedies that result from such a thing.

Review: Spencer

Image courtesy of Neon.

Pablo Larrain's "Spencer" is another in a long line of movies in recent years that have observed part of the life of an iconic historical figure - in other words, the picture is set during a short window of time that is meant to give us some insight into their personality, psyche or a particular moment during which they achieved something or faced challenges. In other words, "Spencer," which spends a fraught weekend with Princess Diana (Kristen Stewart), is not meant to be a hagiography.

As such, it works pretty well, namely because of the film's gorgeous cinematography, which makes due with some spare locations, and Stewart's sympathetic portrayal of the princess of Wales. The film aims to give us a glimpse of Diana's state of mind at some point in the early 1990s as she battles the Royal Family's traditions and expectations of how they believe she should act as a royal.

The film begins with Diana making her way to a remote palace where the royals are about to celebrate Christmas. She is lost and pulls over to ask directions at a local pub, where the patrons seem shocked to find a princess in their midst. As she nears the palace, she observes a scarecrow that apparently was on the property of her childhood home, which has now been shuttered. This delays her even further, until the palace's chef (Sean Harris) notices her on the side of the road and intervenes.

Much of the picture is spent in the claustrophobic confines of the palace - which is absurd, considering how large the place is - as Diana intentionally shows up late for dinner, scoffs at the tradition of the Royal Family adding three pounds per person over the holidays to prove they had "fun" and being disagreeable with the former military officer (Timothy Spall, embodying the stiff upper lip here) who is the eyes and ears of the family, and constantly appears to be spying on Diana's comings and goings.

In between all of this, we get glimpses of her somewhat limited personal life - especially the times she spends with her sons, William (Jack Nielen) and Harry (Freddie Spry) as well as a woman and confidante who helps her "dress" named Maggie (Sally Hawkins). It's not difficult to see why she remains guarded throughout the picture - Spall's character always seems to be lurking, a replacement dresser is quick to spread gossip and report on anything Diana does and the royals are fairly cold to her, Charles (Jack Farthing), especially.

Outside of this general setup, "Spencer" doesn't stray too far. It's not like "The Queen," which portrayed how a royal attempted to adapt to the changing times, but rather acts almost like a chamber piece. When Diana becomes obsessed with reading about the life of Anne Boleyn (Amy Manson), the appearance of that woman's ghost gives the film an almost spectral quality. 

Much like Larrain's previous "Jackie," which chronicled the former first lady's days in the aftermath of her husband's assassination, the director's latest film is also interested in observing how a very famous woman handles the enormous expectations that she faces. "Jackie" was, perhaps, a little more to the point than this film, although this one works well enough too. It helps that Stewart pours so much into the role.

At times, the film makes her come off as petulant, which some may find objectionable, but as I'd mentioned before, the film isn't the type of biopic that one might typically expect in which the lead role is a flawless individual who rises above less-favorable behavior. 

The film ends on a note of release in which Diana and her boys take a ride in a convertible on a windy day singing along to a 1980s earworm. After watching her squirm in the gilded cage in which she has been trapped for much of the film, it's somewhat cathartic. "Spencer" may not tell us that much about the life of Princess Diana, but it does a good job of capturing how she must have felt like a prisoner in her own life. It's an engaging experience.