Review: Blue Moon

Image courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics

 

A film about Broadway lyricist Lorenz Hart might on the surface seem a peculiar choice of subject matter for director Richard Linklater, but the manner in which the story is told is certainly within his wheelhouse. Set on one night - March 31, 1943 - against the backdrop of the premiere of "Oklahoma!," which was written by Hart's former working partner, Richard Rodgers, with Oscar Hammerstein, the film finds Hart at that moment when opportunity and love close the door in your face.

"Blue Moon" is quintessentially Linklater in that it is a hangout film that is primarily dialogue-driven and, in this case, takes place one on set - the bar where Hart is bemoaning his career fade-out as the party is just about to begin on the other side of the room once his former partner and that guy's entourage arrive. Meanwhile, Hart - who is gay - is curiously also fussing over a young woman, Elizabeth (Margaret Qualley), whom he refers to as his protege. His attentions toward her surprise the bartender, Eddie (Bobby Cannavale), who seemingly knows Hart well enough to find it strange that he's interested in a woman.

Much of the film is driven by Ethan Hawke's monologuing as Hart, a brash and talkative fellow who probably drives everyone at the bar - which includes a pianist (Jonah Lees) and E.B. White (Patrick Kennedy) - a little nuts. But Hart, we learn through his conversations with Elizabeth and Rodgers (Andrew Scott), is a person who gives - perhaps too much for his own good. He's also a person who can't keep his opinions to himself and can, at times, be his own worst enemy.

The film is often funny, mostly due to Hart's ability to be outrageous in all company. But he's also a tragic figure. As the film opens, we learn of his fate, which occurs just months before the picture is set, and much of the movie involves him coming to grips with the fact that his time has passed. There's an interesting moment early in the film in which Hart, Eddie, and the piano player discuss the ending of "Casablanca," in which the guy doesn't get the girl, and it acts as a metaphor of what's to come.

Hawke and Linklater have one of the most interesting working relationships in the movies - yielding such great works as the "Before" series, "Waking Life," and the remarkable "Boyhood." "Blue Moon" might seem like a minor entry - it has the feel of a play due to its one location and emphasis on dialogue - but it's a small film that hits its marks.

In the song that gives the film its title, one of the lyrics goes, "Blue moon, you saw me standing alone, without a dream in my heart, without a love of my own," and then later, "I heard somebody whisper, 'Please adore me.'" During the film's second half, Hart watches Rodgers receive that adoration - of which he and Hammerstein would get an abundance over the years - while he finds himself, as the song says, standing alone. This is a small film that often packs a big punch.

Review: Springsteen: Deliver Me from Nowhere

Image courtesy of 20th Century Fox.

It's funny that in the past year there has been a movie about Bob Dylan going electric, while hiding behind the mask of the persona Bob Dylan as he releases his most commercial - and among his best - work, and another about Bruce Springsteen going acoustic while laying himself bare as he composes his least commercial - and one of his best - works to date.

Jeremy Allen White digs deep as The Boss and delivers a strong performance in a biopic that does what many of the best of the genre do: Rather than being an all-encompassing film about a musician, it picks a particular moment in their life that acts as a lens through which we can consider their entire career or mythos.

In the case of Cooper's film, the period in which we find Springsteen is the early 1980s following his commercial success with "The River" record and his first top 10 hit ("Hungry Heart"). Seemingly nervous about the stardom that seems sure to come his way - and will two years later with his blockbuster "Born in the U.S.A" record - Springsteen, possibly led by depression, barricades himself in a room and records the spare, haunting "Nebraska" album.

Surely the only record ever to be inspired by the killing spree of Charles Starkweather - we see Bruce watching Terence Malick's classic "Badlands," which stars Martin Sheen as that notorious criminal - "Nebraska" was an album with only Springsteen on the guitar, no backup band, and captured on a four-track TEAC 144 Portastudio recorder that results in an echoey haunted sound as if it were an object out of time. 

Springsteen was apparently inspired by Suicide's self-titled underground record for the album's overall vibe and, sure enough, there's a moment in which a friend (Paul Walter Hauser) seems alarmed when Bruce is lying on the floor and listening to that record's most harrowing track, "Frankie Teardrop."

All the while, Springsteen strikes up a relationship with a single mother, Faye (Odessa Young), that seems doomed from the start and is haunted by memories of his childhood - rendered in black and white - during which his father (Stephen Graham) was abusive toward him and his mother (Gaby Hoffman). 

The songs written in that solitary New Jersey room - "Nebraska," "Mansion on the Hill," "State Trooper" and the all-timer "Atlantic City" - are all bleak stories of criminals, killers, and people living on the edge. There's a powerful moment in which we see Springsteen writing the lyrics to "Nebraska," thinking back on his troubled childhood, and then changing the "he" in the song - which refers to Starkweather - to "I" or "me."

Two of the most compelling threads in the film are Springsteen's depression, which is hinted at during the film's earlier moments before exploding into the foreground late in the picture, and his friendship with manager and producer Jon Landau (an excellent Jeremy Strong), who comes armed with support and great Flannery O'Connor quotes. Unlike so many other biopics, "Deliver Me from Nowhere" finds the most interesting angles of this story and focuses on them, rather than all the typical stuff you'd expect.

Lastly, this is a biopic that actually provides some insight into its subject. In case you hadn't noticed, Springsteen has been routinely criticizing our Dear Leader during recent concerts and the sequences in this film in which he confronts his father during childhood provide a window into the soul of a man who doesn't like bullying. It's also curious when the film that his father takes him to as a child is the likely scarring "The Night of the Hunter," in which a sinister Robert Mitchum terrorizes a family. 

I stand by my assertion that Todd Haynes' Dylan fantasmagoria "I'm Not There" remains the all-time champ for music biopics - and, hell, the Chalamet Dylan picture was good as well. "Deliver Me from Nowhere" might not be quite on that level, but it's an engaging film about a beloved musician that isn't a hagiography, nor a rousing success story, but rather an introspective view into a period in which the artist was struggling emotionally, but soaring creatively.

Review: The Mastermind

Image courtesy of Mubi.

Kelly Reichardt brings her trademark brand of minimalism to “The Mastermind,” a film set in the early 1970s that adopts that era’s stylings and follows the story of a minor criminal who holds himself in great regard, despite his complete disregard for others and the knack for screwing up.

Set in Framingham, Mass., the story opens observing James Blaine Mooney (Josh O’Connor) with his wife, Terri (Alana Haim), and children looking at objects in a museum. He appears to be scoping the museum’s security and the art on its walls and, before leaving, surreptitiously steals a small figurine from an exhibit.

Shortly thereafter, he plots with a few bumbling friends to steal four paintings by Arthur Dove, considered one of America’s first abstract painters, and take them to a fence with whom he regularly works.

From the start, his plot falters. One of his co-conspirators drops out at the last minute, despite finding a getaway car for James and his other friends to use. During the robbery, a few small girls witness the theft, and are briefly held against their will. On the way out, a struggle ensues with a cop. After the police quickly figure out whom they believe to be involved, the criminals quickly rat each other out.

We learn that James’ father (Bill Camp) is a judge and I wondered whether his clumsy forays into crime are a means of rebellion. His mother (Hope Davis), on the other hand, continually folds by loaning him money that she says she wants him to pay back, but must know that he won’t.

After a visit by the police, James goes on the lam and his plans for remaining undetected are just as poorly plotted. First, he stays with a couple – Fred (John Magaro) and Maude (Gaby Hoffman) – whom he believes will allow him to crash there for a while. The problem is that while the former idolizes him, the latter observes him with a wary eye from the moment he walks in the door. His next stop is even less successful.

Reichardt’s films are often observational dramas that could be described as low key – in other words, understated works in which body language often tells us more than the characters’ words. Her best films – “Poor Cow,” “Wendy and Lucy,” and “Night Moves” – all incorporate this type of vibe, while being wildly different in terms of content.

While “The Mastermind” doesn’t rank among my favorite Reichardt films, it’s still a good one and the type of film that grows on you once you settle into its rhythm. There are few big moments here and why Reichardt chooses to incorporate news coverage of the Vietnam War droning in the background is left up to the viewer; personally, I think the connection is that much like James’ heist, the war was a mistake made with little thought of the consequences.

The film ends on a sardonic note in which James’ careless recklessness takes a significant step forward and he is swept up in a moment that relates to the war in a humorous manner. Much of what makes “The Mastermind” work is O’Connor’s understated performance and its 1970s-style visuals and tone. It’s the type of movie that grows on you.

Review: Black Phone 2

Image courtesy of Universal Pictures.

So many horror movie sequels exist to simply make more money, often overstaying their welcome and continuing stories that could have ended after the first entry, so it's refreshing that Scott Derrickson's "Black Phone 2" mostly avoids those pitfalls. Those who have seen the trailer might wonder why the sequel is set in wintry environs and why the sinister Grabber (Ethan Hawke) appears to be skating around with a hatchet like he just finished watching the forgotten '80s horror movie "Curtains."

The film is set in 1982 - four years after the original - and Finney (Mason Thames) is still obviously struggling after having survived The Grabber's killing spree of young boys in suburban Colorado. Finney's sister, Gwen (Madeleine McGraw), takes center stage in this sequel after visions she has in her dreams involve phone calls placed to her from the 1950s from a secluded church camp. The girl who she speaks to during these calls ends up having a close personal connection to her.

Once The Grabber begins taunting Gwen in her dreams - the film unapologetically riffs on "A Nightmare on Elm Street" without the picture ever feeling like a ripoff - she convinces Finney and a young man who is interested in her romantically, Ernesto (Miguel Mora), to pose as counselors-in-training at the camp, located in the snowy mountains of Colorado, to investigate.

Not surprisingly, the camp's history and The Grabber's own backstory are to be discovered by the trio, who learn of the violent deaths of three young boys at the site in the 1950s. While the first "Black Phone" movie was atmospheric and creepy, it wasn't particularly violent. Although the body count in this film is surprisingly low for an R-rated horror movie, there are a few gruesome moments, all involving children, that might catch fans of the original by surprise.

Speaking of atmosphere, Derrickson and company have made interesting stylistic choices for this sequel. The picture has a low budget, grainy visual style that makes the movie look as if it's a bootleg you might have discovered of something horrific at your favorite video store in the mid-1980s. Rather than be distracting, the film's look and feel gives it the vibe of a spooky artifact.

Once the film kicks into gear, there's not much in the way of surprises - you'll likely see some of the plot twists coming - but it's a solid sequel to a very good horror film that probably would have been just fine as a standalone. So, no, "Black Phone 2" might not have needed to exist - but it does and it's mostly an enjoyably eerie film for the Halloween season.

Review: After The Hunt

Image courtesy of MGM.

Here is an example of a film that should work so much better than it does. "After the Hunt" is the latest from director Luca Guadagnino, who is responsible for the great "Call Me By Your Name" and has been on a mostly solid spree for the past few years - last year's "Challengers" was especially good, while his adaptation of William Boroughs' "Queer" was overall pretty interesting. His latest is also stacked with talent - Julia Roberts, Andrew Garfield, Michael Stuhlbarg, Ayo Edibiri, and Chloe Sevigny - and covers the timely and weighty subject of cancel culture.

And yet, the picture comes off as facile and self congratulatory for its clear intentions to rock the boat, when in fact it doesn't have much to say about its controversial topic and, instead, plays like a faux provocation. One of its biggest grievances is to exaggerate both sides of the particular scenario in the film to the point that it's challenging to spend close to two hours and 20 minutes with such obnoxious characters.

The film opens at a faculty party for Yale philosophy professors and some of their favorite students at the house of professor Alma Olsson (Roberts) and her husband, Frederick (Stuhlbarg), who's a psychiatrist. Among those in attendance are Hank (Garfield), a professor who has been known to get involved romantically with students, and Maggie (Ebiri), a student working on her doctoral thesis who appears to be fixated on Alma in some form or fashion.

As the party breaks up, Hank offers to walk Maggie - who is gay - home. The next day, Alma is confronted at her apartment by a distraught Maggie, who claims that Hank invited himself in for a nightcap at her apartment and, she suggests, sexually assaulted her. Alma's instant reaction leaves something to be desired and she suddenly finds herself mixed up in a classic he-said-she-said situation after Maggie goes to school authorities and then the media with her story.

One of the film's biggest misfires is its portrayal of - and seeming disdain for - its characters. Nearly all of the professor characters come off as smug and arrogant, while the students are portrayed as overly sensitive and entitled (much is made of Maggie's parents having been big donors to the school). The word woke is never used, but it feels as if the screenplay wants to invoke it. Meanwhile, Stuhlbarg, a wonderful actor, has seemingly been instructed to portray Frederick as aggressively awkward, especially during one WTF sequence in which he barges in and out of a kitchen, blaring loud music, while Alma and Maggie attempt to have a serious conversation.

Despite some serious problems with the script, Roberts manages to shine as Alma, a character who clearly has some baggage but is attempting to figure out how to navigate her way through the sticky situation. One of the mistakes the film makes is to ask us to sympathize with her character. On the one hand, it's not difficult to agree with her during a tense conversation with Maggie that she doesn't owe anyone her story - clearly, she has her own history that seems to haunt her - but on the other, makes excuses for a likely rape scenario and uses the word they to taunt a non-binary student.

During one of the film's more uncomfortable sequences, she dresses down an Asian American student who doesn't understand the context of the word other in a philosophy text they're discussing. This scene reminded me of a similar one in Todd Fields' remarkable "TAR," but the scene in that picture is provocative because it left just enough room for both sides of its tense discussion to not land on easy answers, whereas in Guadagnino's film it comes off more as just ugly.

There's a scene late in the film in which Alma does in fact tell her story from a hospital bed. It involves a past indiscretion that is significantly more compelling than most of the rest of the movie. Had this angle been the focus of "After the Hunt," a much better film might have been the result. Instead, it follows that scene with a vague, open-ended one in which two characters chat at a coffee shop some years later. 

Guadagnino is a very talented director and this film's cast have all been great in better movies. But this is an example of a good director utilizing weak material - the script is its greatest hurdle - and not doing much more with it than to provoke. If you don't believe me, watch the film and tell me what you think the opening credits are meant to invoke, especially considering the subject matter at hand. Only a talented group of people could make a movie that falls this flat.

Review: A House of Dynamite

Image courtesy of Netflix.

In case anyone needs to add more to their anxiety in our perilously fraught moment, Kathryn Bigelow's "A House of Dynamite" is hear to shatter your nerves and keep you up nights. Her latest film details how the United States might respond during an emergency involving nuclear weapons. You won't find any comfort here.

The picture is broken up into three parts, all of which basically show how a variety of characters react during a 19-minute window in which they find out that what appears to be a nuclear weapon has been launched and en route to a major American city. There are subtle hints as to what is going on in each of their lives - a man trying to reconnect with an estranged daughter, a man whose wife is pregnant, another who wants to pop the question, etc.

Other than that, we mostly observe these people in the moment. Some of them are top military brass, one is a FEMA call center worker, and another is the president of the United States (Idris Elba). All of the characters try to comfort themselves that the launched weapon isn't what they think it is, that the U.S. military will be able to shoot it down, or that it might end up being a dud, as some missiles can be.

Regardless, "A House of Dynamite" examines what happens when the experts are put to the test in a scenario that one describes as a "coin flip" in terms of how things might turn out. There's no guarantee that a response will have its intended effect. Even more chilling is the fact that no one seems to have any idea who fired the missile and, as a result, any retaliation could lead to an unnecessary war that - in this case - would result in nuclear annihilation.

Another of the film's unsettling concepts is how various individuals involved in the situation - a top military general played by Tracy Letts and a person in charge in the Situation Room (Rebecca Ferguson) - appear to be highly competent at their jobs, and yet even that is not enough to get the horrific scenario under control. No amount of competency might be enough in a Defcon 1 situation, and many of those trained to handle such a scenario fall apart when actually faced with it.

Bigelow has long been one of the best at delivering muscular military dramas - "The Hurt Locker" won her the Best Director Oscar and "Zero Dark Thirty" was one of my top 10 of the previous decade. Her previous film, "Detroit," was liked by me but received otherwise mixed reviews. "A House of Dynamite" is being hailed as a comeback.

This is a tense, very well made, and disturbingly timely picture. Two years ago, "Oppenheimer" told the story of how the nuclear age was born, but Bigelow's film presents a frighteningly real enactment of what it might look like if such an event landed on our shores. Anyone with nerves not yet shredded by the nightly news will likely not want to miss this engrossing and nerve-wracking picture.

Review: Roofman

Image courtesy of Paramount Pictures.

Derek Cianfrance's "Roofman" is a completely different vibe than the director's bleak dramas "Blue Valentine" and "The Place Beyond the Pines." Based on a true story about a criminal with a penchant for breaking into fast food chains and other stores through the roof, the picture comes close to being a romantic comedy but is just serious enough to avoid that categorization.

In the picture, Channing Tatum plays Jeffrey Manchester, a former U.S. Army Reserve officer who was known during his overseas missions to have had a good eye for scouting things. When he can barely afford to pay for his young daughter's birthday gifts, a stray comment from a friend (LaKeith Stanfield) gives him the idea to start robbing McDonald's in the Charlotte area in the early 2000s.

But during the robberies - which are just enough to buy him a large house and some gifts for his daughter as well as a Mariachi band for her birthday - Jeffrey isn't particularly fearsome. During one job, he feels sympathy for the McDonald's crew that he locks in the store refrigerator and gives his jacket to an employee who doesn't have one.

He's soon busted and lands in prison for a 45-year stint, a sentence that's a tad egregious. He comes up with a plan to escape, pulls it off, and ends up in a small North Carolina community, where he hides out in a Toys "R" Us and eventually ingratiates himself to the community after dropping off some toys he stole from the store to a toy drive. He also catches the eye of the woman, Leigh (Kirsten Dunst), running the toy drive, who also happens to be a Toys "R" Us employee.

Much like "Breaking Bad" or "The Americans," the film is one of those scenarios that we know can't last forever, so it seems like much of the suspense revolves around whether Jeffrey will get recognized by someone, whether Leigh will discover who he is, or whether he'll jeopardize the escape he's planning to see her one last time.

Tatum, a likable actor, is a good choice for the role. Although a criminal, Jeffrey is affable and affectionate toward Leigh and her two daughters. There's a funny scene in which he charms a group of women at a singles event sponsored by Leigh's church. During his robberies, he seems to feel guilty about scaring the people working in the stores he robs.

While "Roofman" might not be on par with Cianfrance's earliest films - "Blue Valentine" was a powerful albeit depressing love story and "The Place Beyond the Pines" was an ambitious crime epic - the picture is somewhat of a comeback after 2016's "The Light Between Oceans" fell flat and the director disappeared for almost a decade. "Roofman" isn't a grand statement - but rather an amusing true crime drama with comedic and romantic elements - but it's enjoyable nonetheless. 

Review: The Smashing Machine

Image courtesy of A24.

 
The Ultimate Fighting Championship is not a topic that particularly captures my interest - in other words, I'm not that intrigued by the sport - but Benny Safdie's "The Smashing Machine" compelled me due to its performances and the fact that it doesn't take the typical sports biopic approach.

Sports-themed films are often framed around a particular moment of success for an athlete. We watch them in their early days and are privy to numerous training sessions until they finally arrive at a particular challenge and, typically, rise above it to achieve some form of glory. Safdie's film isn't interested in that, although the picture is seemingly compelled by the UFC and its violent form of fighting.

In an attention-seeking move, Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson has been cast as mixed martial artist Mark Kerr who, along with friend and fellow fighter Mark Coleman (portrayed by mixed martial artist Ryan Bader), apparently made a big impact on the sport. Of course, The Rock started his career in the wrestling world and this film is one of the rare chances of watching him take on a more dramatic role, rather than the blockbuster type of action movies in which he typically stars.

And without a doubt, Johnson impresses in this film, while costar Emily Blunt is equally strong in her portrayal of Kerr's wife, Dawn. Yes, there are numerous scenes of people being beaten to a pulp while participating in this violent sport, but the goings-on behind the scenes in the Kerr household were just as brutal, albeit of a psychological nature.

In the beginning, Kerr is undefeated, but suffers a bruise to his ego after losing a match that he believes was the result of a bad call by a referee. The combination of the steroids he's taking along with opioids for pain relief lead to a struggle with addiction. Added to the mix is his volatile relationship with Dawn. During the first half of the picture, it's easier to sympathize with Dawn, who seemingly gives up many things in life for Kerr's sport, while later in the picture he becomes more the voice of reason.

So, when I describe "The Smashing Machine" as sort of an anti-sports biopic, it's because there's an equal amount of attention paid to the domestic drama and drug abuse as there is the training for and participation in the sport. In many ways, this makes the film unique to its genre. 

It also helps that the leads are strong. Johnson proves that he is more than stunt casting in the role, portraying Kerr as a soft spoken guy who occasionally bursts into episodes of violence - ripping a door off its hinges during one scene - when frustrated. Blunt portrays Dawn as quasi-sympathetic and reasonable but, at other times, high maintenance. Bader also acquits himself well as Coleman, who starts as Kerr's trainer but eventually makes a successful return to the ring.

The Safdie Brothers often make gritty films about characters on the edge - the Robert Pattinson vehicle "Good Times" and the bleak "Uncut Gems," which is the brothers' most successful venture - and "The Smashing Machine" (directed by Benny, while Josh has "Marty Supreme" releasing later this year) is certainly in that wheelhouse. On the whole, it's a solid sports drama bolstered by impressive performances.

Review: One Battle After Another

Image courtesy of Warner Bros.

Paul Thomas Anderson is not only a great filmmaker, but also seemingly a magician: He somehow convinced a major movie studio (Warner Bros.) to fund a $150 million Thomas Pynchon adaptation that involves modern revolutionaries battling a fascist U.S. government in which a select group of racist white men belong to a Santa Claus-worshipping cult.

On the one hand, the plot of "One Battle After Another," based somewhat on Pynchon's "Vineland," might sound presciently bleak with its ICE detention centers, violent government-led raids on sanctuary cities, and white supremacists in high positions, but the picture is also hopeful in its depiction of what could be our way through this madness.

Anderson's 21st century films have mostly dwelt in the past and told stories about the birth of capitalism ("There Will Be Blood"), post WWII America and Britain ("The Master" and "Phantom Thread"), Hollywood against the backdrop of the 1970s oil crisis ("Licorice Pizza"), and the lost dream of the 1960s counterculture ("Inherent Vice"). Only one other film - 2002's "Punch Drunk Love" - has been set in the current century.

That being said, I cannot think of any other film that captures our present moment of anxiety better than this one. The film's title is spoken at one point in the picture regarding a specific action taken by the French 75, the revolutionary group that features many of the film's lead characters, but it also speaks to the moment we're living in - keeping alive the dream of a country that favors freedom of speech and expression literally requires one battle after another.

The film opens with a tense mission in which the French 75 infiltrates an ICE detention center and frees its captives. Perfidia Beverly Hills (a fierce Teyana Taylor) takes Col. Steven J. Lockjaw (Sean Penn, whose monster of a character provokes much laughter due to his utter humorlessness) captive and sexually humiliates him, while her paramour, "Ghetto Pat" (Leonardo DiCaprio), sets off bombs. Other members of the group are portrayed by Wood Harris, Alana Haim, Regina Hall, and Shayna McHayle.

But when Perfidia is busted by Lockjaw, she rats out her fellow 75'ers, leaving Pat and her newborn daughter to go underground. Some 16 years later, the father and daughter are living as Bob and Willa Ferguson in the fictional California town of Baktan Cross. Willa takes karate lessons from Sensei (Benicio Del Toro), a smooth revolutionary who helps to smuggle illegal immigrants, while Bob is mostly stoned out of his gourd. He still believes in the revolution, but has become paranoid and somewhat useless.

However, Lockjaw finds himself moving up the ranks of the military and is invited to join an elite cabal of white supremacists known as the Christmas Adventurers Club. To be inducted, however, he must wipe clean his past, which includes his coerced liaison with Perfidia. Although she has been missing for years, Lockjaw tracks down some of the former French 75 members and uses them to try to get close to Bob and Willa. During one harrowing scene, Hall's Deandra helps Willa to flee a high school dance, while Bob is amusingly left fumbling through phone calls in which he has forgotten the requisite revolution passwords.

From this point on, "One Battle After Another" becomes a relentlessly propulsive chase movie in which Bob and Willa (newcomer Chase Infiniti), now separated, must stay one step ahead of Lockjaw and his goons. Willa and Deandra make their way to a desert enclave of revolutionary nuns, while Bob hides out with Sensei, who leads an escape of Latino immigrants as jack-booted ICE types attack their sanctuary city. There's an incredibly shot sequence in which Bob and a group of skateboarding associates of Sensei make a run for it.

The film's final scenes involve a series of car chases that culminate with a spellbinding pursuit along Borrego Springs' blind humps of Highway 78 that recalls the 1971 cult classic "Vanishing Point." At this point, the paranoid stoner comedy and revolutionary thriller modes of the picture seamlessly transition into a breathless action film. This is a movie that juggles numerous tones and set pieces of various genres, all deftly.

It is also a film chock full of superb performances, from supporting roles that pack a punch such as Taylor, Hall, or Del Toro to remarkable leading turns - DiCaprio expertly juggles hilarity with pathos as the burnout father whose dedication to the revolution often butts heads with his ability to protect his daughter, while Penn gives what must be his most frightening portrayal. Also, Infiniti is a real find.

"We've been laid siege for hundreds of years," Del Toro's Sensei calmly remarks during one of the film's tenser moments regarding how communities of color have long struggled against hateful forces in the United States. In the context of this movie and the country in which we live, it has indeed been one battle after another to prevent those forces from overpowering the struggle for liberty. 

Anderson's incredible film is a clarion call for keeping up the fight in the face of overwhelming odds, a concept that really hits home at the moment. The film's defiant final scene of multi-generational determination powerfully drives home the old adage that the "only way out is through." This is unquestionably the movie for this moment - and a great one at that.