Review: Crazy Rich Asians

Image courtesy of Warner Bros.

There is, in fact, a fair amount to recommend about Jon M. Chu's "Crazy Rich Asians," which is based on Kevin Kwan's book of the same name, even if the film itself only works part of the time. For starters, the picture is the first - at least, to my knowledge - Hollywood film featuring primarily Asian actors since Wayne Wang's "The Joy Luck Club" 25 years ago.

Secondly, the film has a great cast, from international star Michelle Yeoh and comedian Ken Jeong to rapper/comedian Awkwafina and Henry Golding as Nick Young, the film's love interest. The film's lead, Constance Wu, who portrays New York City economics teacher Rachel Chu, also slips easily into a starring role and does a nice job of it.

But my problem with "Crazy Rich Asians" is that its storyline - part "Cinderella," part "Pretty Woman" (but minus the prostitution) and part "Real Housewives" - is one that we've seen many times before. So many times before. In the film, Nick wants to introduce Rachel to his family in Singapore. Unbeknownst to her, they are among the island country's wealthiest inhabitants, and the mere mention of Nick's name to some of Rachel's friends elicits a gasp.

Throughout the film, we are called upon to cheer for Rachel, a lower to middle class American, and find Nick's super rich family and friends to be distasteful in their snobbery. And yet, the film appears to be taken with the bling - shots linger on mansions, gorgeous jewelry, expensive clothes and other luxuries. It's an example of a film that wants to have its cake and eat it too.

It helps that Wu is a sympathetic character, and that sidekick Awkwafina has enough punchy one liners to keep the material light and breezy. But there are one too many run-ins between Rachel and Yeoh's terror of a mother, Eleanor, Nick's jerky male family members and an ex-girlfriend of Rachel's beau who takes the hazing a little too far. It's the type of movie that draws gasps - and it did during the screening I attended - when the snooty rich characters behave rudely to Rachel, that is, if you've never seen a movie in which an underdog working class character gets the cold shoulder from rich people.

But for every cliche, there's an element that nearly makes up for it, whether it's the lovely cinematography that focuses on Singapore's beautiful scenery or the close-ups of food that are not only meant to make your mouth water, but also to explore ideas of tradition and culture. There's also a beautifully shot wedding scene that is also slightly far fetched.

Overall, "Crazy Rich Asians" is a fairly lightweight amusement, but it's notable for focusing solely on its Asian characters, rather than shoving them into the type of supporting roles that Jeong, Awkwafina, Yeoh and other cast members typically inhabit. It might lose points for a story that is more tried than true, but it has its moments. And during the moments when it digs a little deeper in exploring issues pertaining to the class differences of its characters, the film is at its best, even if it occasionally lingers too long to admire its characters' riches.

Review: Slender Man

Image courtesy of Sony Pictures.

At the risk of trafficking in bad puns, "Slender Man" is perilously thin. Based on a "creepypasta" internet meme, which is the modern web-based equivalent of telling ghost stories around the camp fire, the legend of the Slender Man - who was created by Eric Knudsen (also known as Victor Surge) - led to a horrific true crime incident in 2014 when some Wisconsin girls brutally stabbed - albeit not fatally - another girl as an offering to the mythical being.

This film, thankfully, veers away from anything relating to that awful case, but it's pretty dreadful all the same. In the picture, a group of four girls - inspired by a group of fellow male high school students - decide to summon the Slender Man on the internet by watching a video that is the online equivalent - although much less creepy - of "The Ring."

Shortly thereafter, the girls start being tormented by creepy visions and creaky sounds in their houses. When one of them goes missing, it is up to the other three - Hallie (Julia Goldani Telles), Chloe (Jaz Sinclair) and Wren (Joey King) - to figure out the mystery of the Slender Man and how to escape his grasp.

To director Sylvain White's credit, there is some haunting imagery of eerie wooded areas and desolate small town America. On the other hand, there are one too many jump scares - my least favorite cliched horror movie trope - and the characters are wooden. Hallie is the responsible teen with the younger sister, Chloe likes a guy in the girls' class, Katie (Annalise Basso) is the fragile one and Wren is the troublemaker. But we otherwise know too little about them to make us care much.

The Slender Man story could have made for a creepy horror film. But in the realm of viral demons haunting people, the picture is closer to the awful "Truth or Dare" from earlier this year than "The Ring," which was a far superior execution of the concept of summoning an evil being by bearing witness to a video. "Slender Man" is, ultimately - at the risk of yet another bad pun - too slight.

Review: Madeline's Madeline

Image courtesy of Oscilloscope. 

There's been much debate in recent years regarding who should be telling others' stories - for example, there was an uproar when Scarlett Johansson was chosen to play the lead in "Ghost in the Shell" or, more recently, when that same actress dropped out of playing a trans man. Josephine Decker's often interesting, but just as frequently maddening, "Madeline's Madeline" concerns itself with such matters.

In the film, a young biracial girl named Madeline (Helena Howard) suffers from some sort of mental illness, which often materializes in tantrums, but occasionally more violent episodes, typically directed at her overbearing, concerned and slightly judgmental mother (Miranda July). Madeline gains some solace in an acting troupe with which she has become involved and finds herself under the tutelage by the troupe's leader, Evangeline (Molly Parker), who always gives the impression that she knows exactly what she wants out of her actors, but is clearly indecisive about her latest experimental play and preoccupied as a result of her pregnancy.

But Evangeline is taken by Madeline and the young girl quickly becomes the centerpiece of her attention - at first, to a loving degree, but later to an exploitative one. Evangeline is obviously fascinated by the troubled relationship between Madeline and her mother and coaxes her to use her personal life - scenes in which she and her mother have fought - for inspiration during the troupe's rehearsals.

A quick word on the rehearsals. One of the issues that I had with the film was the endless focus on watching the troupe rehearse. It felt as if Decker had been watching too much late 1960s to early 1970s Jacques Rivette films - in which acting troupes were constantly taking part in exercises, although it worked much better when the New Wave director did it - and, so, we must sit through scene after scene in which actors squirm around on floors making ooh and aah sounds or others in which they pretend to be animals. Madeline is often with taken with the urge to behave like a cat.

The film's in-your-face approach makes it feel both intimate and obtrusive. And at times, the picture feels as if its focus is as lost in the weeds as Evangeline's idea for her latest work. It's not until the end, which poses a suggestion that turns the rest of the film on its head in an interesting manner, that it finally all coheres. The film's strongest scenes are those in which it explores how Evangeline is exploiting Madeline's private traumas for the sake of her art, and the most extreme example of this results in a peculiar flight of fancy at the film's end that nearly makes up for all the troupe's acting exercises.

This is only the second film I've seen from Decker - I caught her equally interesting and exasperating "Butter on the Latch," but haven't seen "Thou Wast Mild and Lovely" - and I've had the same reaction to both films. She's clearly talented and possesses a unique visual style that has not, so far, been utilized to its maximum effect. On the other hand, I appreciate that an American filmmaker is producing such experimental work in an age when so little is left to the imagination. "Madeline's Madeline" didn't quite work for me, but there's more than enough to hold the interest of adventurous cinephiles.

Review: BlacKkKlansman

Image courtesy of Focus Features.

Spike Lee's "BlacKkKlansman" - the director's best in years and one of his best films, period - is the movie that we both need and deserve right now. It tells the incendiary true story of Ron Stallworth (John David Washington, son of Denzel), a black Colorado Springs undercover cop who, in the 1970s, managed to infiltrate a local Ku Klux Klan chapter after placing a call and impressing the group's president. Stallworth sent an undercover narcotics officer - here, in the form of narcotics officer Flip Zimmerman (Adam Driver) - to portray the living embodiment of himself with the KKK.

Probably no other filmmaker on earth could have taken this material and turned it into a comedy, but that's exactly what Lee does. Many forget that before it takes a deadly serious turn in its finale, his remarkable treatise on race relations, "Do the Right Thing," starts out as a comedy, of sorts, as well. But here, the laughs stick in the throat. For every belly laugh at the expense of the stupidity of the Klan members - or a hilarious moment involving a response that Stallworth gets when he appears surprised that one of his fellow officers might call him a racial slur - there's a truly uncomfortable one to follow.

The film - which we are told at the beginning is based on some "fo real, fo real shit" - first introduces us to Stallworth as he attempts to become the Colorado Springs police department's first black officer. He's met with some cold shoulders, but eventually earns the respect of the men with whom he is working - namely, Zimmerman, another cop named Jimmy (Michael Buscemi) and his superior officer (Ken Garito).

Stallworth is mildly annoyed when his first assignment is to attend a speech given by Kwame Ture, nee Stokely Carmichael (in an excellent cameo by Corey Hawkins, of "Straight Outta Compton"), whom the police chief believes has arrived in town to incite the black population. Once there, Stallworth meets Patrice (Laura Harrier), the head of the local school's black student union. Stallworth is taken with her, despite his insistence that she need not make everything about politics.

Upon browsing through the newspaper, Stallworth spots a recruitment ad for the local chapter of the KKK and, much like the hero of "Sorry to Bother You," puts on a white voice and places a call. The man on the other end is taken with his passionate put-on hatred of black people, and invites him to attend an upcoming meeting. Stallworth sells his fellow officers on spying on the Klan, and convinces Zimmerman - who admits to never having given much thought to his Jewishness, but rather as "just another white kid" - to pose as Stallworth and meet the fellow chapter members.

Zimmerman spends time with the Klan members - soft spoken leader Walter (Ryan Eggold), dipshit drunk Ivanhoe (Paul Walter Hauser) and frightening Felix (Jasper Paakkonen), who is suspicious of the new recruit - at a dive bar, where Ivanhoe drunkenly blurts out something about a future attack, which intrigues the undercover cops. As Zimmerman gets deeper and deeper into the Klan chapter's business, he and Stallworth learn of a plan to set off an explosive at an event where Patrice's student union will host a guest speaker.

During one of the film's most powerful moments, a scene unfolds during which David Duke (a terrific Topher Grace) visits the Colorado Klan chapter and the group watches D.W. Griffith's landmark - and virulently racist film "The Birth of a Nation" as Patrice and a large group of black attendees listen as a character played by the great Harry Belafonte discusses how he watched a young, mentally challenged youth tortured and brutally murdered before a mob of angry white people after he was falsely accused of attacking a white woman.

The scene flips back and forth between the Klan members as they hurl racist invective at the Griffith film - which depicts white actors in blackface attacking white women - and Belafonte telling his harrowing story. The scene ends with the Klansmen shouting "white power" and Belafonte's character raising his fist and nearly whispering "black power."

But the film's most powerful juxtaposition is in its finale after Stallworth's case has been wrapped up - or something to that effect. After receiving a knock on his door, Stallworth and Patrice enter the hallway of his building, and Lee gives us one of his best "people-mover shots" - the director's trademark stylistic touch, you'll know what I mean when you see it - and the sounds of screaming voices begin to rise.

The film then cuts to actual footage of racist marchers in Charlottesville in 2017 shouting "blood and soil" and "Jews won't replace us," a clip of President Donald Trump defending attendees at that white power march, footage of white supremacist James Alex Fields Jr.'s car plowing into the protesters of the march and then raw, emotional footage of those who witnessed the scene. For much of the film's running time, Lee takes the bold step of utilizing his material for comedic purposes, but there was a noticeable hush in the film's final moments. "Oh my God," said a man sitting behind me after witnessing the film's finale as a Prince song kicked in and a photo of Charlottesville victim Heather Heyer's face appeared with a message below it reading "Rest in Power."

Oh my God, indeed. Despite some excellent documentaries - his Katrina chronicle, "When the Levees Broke" - and the imperfect - but truly fascinating - "Chi-Raq," a number of Lee's films of recent years have been interesting experiments that don't quite add up. "BlacKkKlansman" is his most potent and flat out best feature film in years. It ranks among his best - "Do the Right Thing," "Malcolm X," "25th Hour" and "Clockers" - and is one of the most exhilarating pictures I've seen this year. It's also an extremely entertaining burst of truth to power.

"Wake up," one character tells Stallworth during the course of his investigation after he suggests that bigots could never amass enough power to inhabit the White House. Lee's terrific film is one hell of an alarm clock.

Review: The Spy Who Dumped Me

Image courtesy of Lionsgate.

Susanna Fogel's "The Spy Who Dumped Me" is an odd combination of two movies - a silly comedy in which two best friends, Audrey (Mila Kunis) and Morgan (Kate McKinnon), find themselves mixed up in some overseas mayhem after Audrey finds out that her ex-boyfriend (Justin Theroux) is a spy, and a violent action movie in which two best friends find themselves mixed up in some overseas mayhem after one of them finds out that her boyfriend is a spy.

In terms of the comedy, there are a few laughs - but only a few, most notably McKinnon's failed attempt to speak French whilst in a library. Kunis gives the dry delivery, while McKinnon's character - a feminism loving seeker of adventure - is the kooky, loudmouthed one. As for the film's alter ego as an action movie, suffice it to say that while the predictable plot mechanics gel well enough with the comedy bits, the gory violence does not.

In the picture, Audrey is celebrating her 30th birthday with Morgan and wonders where her boyfriend, Drew (Theroux) - who never seems to be around for the important moments - is. There's an ongoing flashback in which Audrey and Drew meet that is completely unnecessary, not particularly funny or charming and completely wrong in its musical taste when one of the characters asks the other to pick the worst song on a jukebox at a bar and the song they choose is the Crash Test Dummies' "Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm." I mean, seriously.

But shortly thereafter, Drew appears to be killed and the two women flee to Europe to deliver a secret package that is sought by various spies, assassins (including a psychotic former ballerina from some former Soviet Bloc country), CIA spooks and MI6 agents. Of course, Audrey and Morgan manage to slip their way out of one dangerous scenario after the next, besting professional killers and spies. The movie is preposterous and makes no attempt at plausible portrayals of the international world of spycraft.

Kunis and McKinnon have a nice rapport here - and, thankfully, the scene in every movie of this type in which the two characters have a brief falling out is missing here. There's also a nice dose of girl power - Morgan is constantly praising Audrey's intuitiveness and clever attempts at outwitting dumb men, and there's an amusing bit in which Morgan calls a tough MI6 character played by Gillian Anderson the "Beyonce of the government."

On the other hand, there's a whole lot of silly plot to wade through and more violence than feels comfortable in a goofy comedy such as this one. Characters' necks are broken - although there's one funny bit involving a European hostel dweller who comes to the women's rescue - while others are shot in the head, shot in the throat, shot pretty much everywhere. So, while "The Spy Who Dumped Me" has its moments - mostly due to its two leads' camaraderie - it blends two methods of telling the same story in a manner that results in each style getting in the other's way.

Review: Hot Summer Nights

Image courtesy of A24.

Elijah Bynum's debut, "Hot Summer Nights," has a great soundtrack and features some of filmdom's rising stars - Timothee Chalamet and Maika Monroe - but while its director clearly wants it to act as a calling card for his talents, they are mostly wasted by riffing on better films, namely the work of Martin Scorsese and early Paul Thomas Anderson films.

As the film opens, Danny (Chalamet) is grieving his father's death, so his mother decides to ship him off to live with an aunt on Cape Cod for the summer of 1991. For a movie about a youth going off to live with a relative, that relative is scarce to the point of nonexistent. Once on the cape, Danny - for no particular reason - strikes up a friendship with the local drug dealer, Hunter (Alex Roe) and, for the sake of this film's existence, decides to start selling marijuana himself. It doesn't hurt that he first meets Hunter's sister, McKayla (Monroe), and quickly becomes smitten.

The film is narrated, quite strangely I might add, by some random kid on the cape who seemingly witnessed the film's events, although we never actually see him until the end. In other films, "The Virgin Suicides" for example, an elusive narrator can work - but here, the fact that this kid narrates the story is more than likely because if an adult had narrated it - and commented on how the local boys liked to masturbate while thinking of McKayla - it would have been, well, ickier.

From the moment we meet McKayla to the film's ending when she runs off to who knows where, she is - to dredge up an old movie trope - an object of the male gaze. In other words, she's there to attract Danny and help him to find himself, or something of that nature. But she's not the Pixie Dream Girl of other male fantasy movies, but rather the Hot Girl Who's More Soulful Than She Lets On.

I know, I'm being a bit snarky about "Hot Summer Nights," which is occasionally entertaining, albeit overly familiar, as it hits all the beats of a film of this type: boy meets girl, boy meets boy, boys begin selling drugs, boys get in over their heads, and then... drama! Chalamet is saddled with a character whose motivations are questionable, most likely because the kid narrating his story doesn't actually know him. Regardless, the actor - who was great in "Call Me By Your Name" and a convincing little shit in "Lady Bird" - does his best with the material provided.

But as I'd mentioned: you've seen all this before, from the camerawork reminiscent of shots you've seen in "Goodfellas" to the scene with a creepy drug dealer that feels straight out of "Boogie Nights." And the final bit of narration regarding the fate of one of the characters appears to have been inspired by "The Virgin Suicides." So, while "Hot Summer Nights" has its moments, a majority of those moments feel as if they were pulled straight out of previous movies that were more original than this one.

Review: Mission Impossible: Fallout

Image courtesy of Paramount Pictures.

I've often found myself complaining that a majority of summer blockbusters are set-piece driven and filled with visual effects that often mute out the elements - such as characterization or context - that tend to make films more interesting. Then again, there's something to be said for a breathless action movie that finds its rhythm and leaves you gripping your seat, white knuckled. "Mission Impossible: Fallout," the sixth and - possibly best - entry in the franchise, is such a movie.

Much like Edgar Wright's gripping "Baby Driver" or George Miller's visually stunning "Mad Max: Fury Road," this latest "Mission Impossible" movie is wall to wall action. It sails by so quickly and furiously that the storyline might come across as slightly convoluted and the motivations of its characters - outside of one group of people wanting to blow up the world and the other wanting to stop this from occurring - only secondary to the action. But this is a rare occasion in which this matters little - this is a film with absolutely incredible stunts and camerawork and further proof that Tom Cruise is, at age 56, Hollywood's most dedicated action star.

To no one's surprise, the plot of "Fallout" revolves around a group of sinister characters - led by Sean Harris' Solomon Lane - who aim to wreak global havoc after having collected a series of nuclear devices. It is up to Ethan Hunt (Cruise) and his team - Ving Rhames' Luther, Simon Pegg's Benji, Rebecca Ferguson's Ilsa and a newbie, Henry Cavill's Walker, who may or may not be trusted - to stop them.

From the get-go, "Fallout" is a fast-paced and brilliantly choreographed action movie. Whether it's flying through European cities on a motorcycle with cars in pursuit, dangling from a helicopter, hanging from a cliff or taking part in the craziest bathroom fight since "Eastern Promises," the characters and the actors who portray them appear to be risking life and limb nearly every step of the way.

But for a movie that emphasizes nonstop action over story, there's a fair amount of thematic relevance knocking around in "Fallout," from the concept of how much one should personally sacrifice for the greater good to the idea of whether the characters' actions, while seemingly good, have inadvertently caused harm. There's also a camaraderie between the characters that makes this team more likable and watchable than many of the other franchise teams that populate blockbuster filmmaking. During a crucial moment late in the film, in which the characters' fates hang in the balance, this camaraderie especially pays off.

So, while "Fallout" does little to reinvent the wheel of the summer blockbuster, it is an example of a franchise movie made extremely well and, surprisingly, for a two-and-a-half hour movie, there's little fat. This is an intense, often vertigo-inducing action movie that proves that Cruise still has the goods and this series is far from out of gas. I'd imagine it'll be the best blockbuster you'll see this year.