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Vice (2018)
Adam McKay & Christian Bale Storm Through the Fog of Politics in 'Vice'
"You are the President. War is yours." - Vice President Richard "Dick" Cheney (Christian Bale) to President George W. Bush (Sam Rockwell)
Potential spoilers below
Three years after The Big Short propelled writer-director Adam McKay from comedy auteur of the 2000s to Academy Award-winning fervent societal satirist, he and Christian Bale (Best Supporting Actor Oscar nominee for The Big Short) team up once again with Vice. Less than the sum of its parts, Vice showcases yet another transformative performance by Bale, fast burning turns by co-stars Amy Adams and Sam Rockwell, and excessive narration by Jesse Plemons. All these serve an imposing exposé trajectory that pales next to The Big Short's brilliance and, despite the conviction of Nicholas Britell's patriotic yet macabre-sounding score, ineffectively insists on Cheney's political career as the great American horror story of the past half-century.
In 132 minutes spanning just over a half-century, writer-director McKay tracks the life of Richard "Dick" Cheney (Christian Bale, pudgy and partially-bald) from his early days as an alcoholic "ne'er-do-well" with frustrated girlfriend and eventual wife Lynne (Amy Adams) by his side. Working his way to Washington, D.C., Cheney apprentices under future Secretary of Defense Donald "Rummy" Rumsfeld (Steve Carell, delightfully nasty) finding his life calling as a "humble servant to power". Finally, Dick Cheney rises to become, with George W. Bush (Sam Rockwell, relishing playing dim-witted) as President, one of the most powerful and secretive Vice Presidents in United States and arguably world history.
I feel safe in saying that Vice is no Big Short. The Big Short woke audiences up; Vice pressures audiences to get terrified and incensed. The Big Short transitioned from comedy to tragedy like a rug swiftly pulled from underneath everyone's feet. Vice, somehow angrier than BlacKkKlansman by Spike Lee, locks into horror mode for its subject matter to the extent that only those politically inclined will fully view the horror presented as such.
That said, McKay, Bale, and company certainly try their hardest. From time to time throughout Vice, McKay has film editor and Big Short alum Hank Corwin insert, among many other things, fish and fishing imagery. Whereas Christ once told Peter and Andrew that he will make them "fishers of men" (Matthew 4:19; Mark 1:17) and convert souls to God and truth, Vice's fish and fishing imagery suggest an entirely separate and sinister agenda of baiting. For big fish like VP Cheney, Sec. Def. Rumsfeld, their minions, and their puppets (including arguably Pres. George W. Bush), their bait was power - wartime power in particular. For the guppies of the American public, their bait was the promise of a robust and absolute executive branch in the United States government. Vice communicates these dynamics well enough and with endless kick throughout, though the latter dynamic truly hits home with Cheney's blistering final monologue to the camera.
McKay's vision does not work without Christian Bale's chameleon-like performance as VP Cheney. One all but accepts that Bale is Cheney - hairline, heart issues, dulled vocal inflections, and all - that Vice's final cut does not even need the brief shot of a shirtless and beer-bellied Cheney seen in the middle of the electrifying trailer. Vice is Bale's show to the point that recognizing anyone else for acting awards feels excessive. Such marks the supporting performances of Amy Adams as wife Lynne Cheney and Sam Rockwell as Pres. George W. Bush. (Rockwell recently won the Best Supporting Actor Oscar for his performance in Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri.) As with Claire Foy in First Man and Laura Harrier in the aforementioned BlacKkKlansman, Adams' moments of channeling Lady Macbeth are few and far between. After the sudden and magical soliloquy between her and Bale as he decides whether or not to accept the VP role from Rockwell, Adams falls to the background for the rest of Vice's runtime. As for Rockwell, it surprises me to say that he factors little into the story outside of when he offers the VP job to Bale. Also, it is hard to resist viewing his performance as little more than an impression, what with all the past sketches and caricatures imaginable, not to mention Josh Brolin's more comprehensive take in W., the 2008 Oliver Stone film.
In the end, Vice would have benefited from greater balance and, dare I say, minimized bias. Any depicted conservative figures need not fall into either spineless expendables or conniving power-seekers, especially when any shortcomings of liberal figures get the briefest of appearances (e.g., a pro-Iraq War speech snippet by then-Sen. Hillary Clinton, a clip of the flub in Pres. Barack Obama's first inaugural oath) or are overlooked entirely. Why portray a young Antonin Scalia (Sam Massaro) as a snickering goblin, even though he would go on to get unanimously confirmed by the Senate to become a Supreme Court Justice? Is it not a bit narrow-minded to visually prefer Pres. Jimmy Carter to Pres. Ronald Reagan based almost entirely by the former's installation of solar panels on the White House roof and the latter's dismantling of them? What if they were not efficient enough yet? Perhaps fourth wall-breaking commentary from the rest of the cast, instead of from Jesse Plemons (whose underwhelming link with Cheney comes right near the end), would have provided some of that needed balance.
What a time to live in America.
(Parental Note: Vice has been rated R by the MPAA "for language and some violent images". It has also been rated 15 by the BBFC for "strong language, disturbing scenes," and "infrequent bloody images", and L (Limited adult audience) by the Catholic News Service for "scenes of combat violence, gory and gruesome images, partial nudity, a lesbian theme, several uses of profanity, about a half-dozen milder oaths, and frequent rough and crude language.")
(P.S. Keep an eye out for a mid-credits scene.)
R.N.B.
The Case for Christ (2017)
A Pleasant Surprise: The Case for Christ Stands out Among Christian Films
(Originally published on the Impacting Culture blog)
Preachy, typically fideistic stories with unrestrained acting and incompetent filmmaking are often the norms in Christian films. As such, they easily become the fodder of mainstream and high-brow filmgoers, discouraging Christians worldwide. Fortunately, this is mostly not the case with The Case for Christ, a biographical drama about its real-life protagonist - today a Christian author and apologist - and his life-changing attempt to discredit the historical Jesus. (The film borrows its title from the author's 1998 book.)
It is 1980. Mike Vogel (The Help, Bates Motel, Under the Dome) plays Lee Strobel, then the star investigative reporter for The Chicago Tribune and fresh off the release of his first book. When his daughter survives a near-fatal choking incident, he and his wife Leslie (Erika Christensen, NBC's Parenthood) are suddenly faced with the mysterious wonders of God, which she decides to explore further while he, a staunch atheist, leaves it alone. As Leslie grows closer in her Christian faith, Lee gets assigned to cover the trial of a suspected police shooter. Lee's resentment towards his wife's gradual conversion impels him to also devote time to debunking the historical Jesus behind her back, traveling to experts in various fields across the country. The experts, much to his surprise, give Lee answers contrary to what he originally expected, causing him to reconsider his quest. Whether it will cost him his marriage or his career as a journalist, Lee will not stop until he disproves the historical Jesus or - however unlikely to him - he is forced to accept that a man named Jesus Christ really did exist, die, and rose from the dead.
What first struck me about the film was its genuine cinematic competence compared to other Christian films. Director Jon Gunn surprises with his film's period accuracy, achieved by employing warm, but admittedly tacky, shades of brown in both costumes as well as production design - peculiar to other films taking place towards the end of the 1970s. Also refreshing is cinematographer Brian Shanley and how he avoids falling prey to the bland, flat camerawork of Christian films set in the present day. The whole project's visual aesthetic and narrative tone feels as though the crew took inspiration from films such as Argo, All the President's Men, and Spotlight.
Screenwriter and co-producer Brian Bird (executive producer for Hallmark Channel's What Calls the Heart) lays out a three-pronged story structure, consisting of Lee's attempt at debunking the historical Jesus with professional interviews, the domestic conflict with his wife's growing Christian faith, and Lee's current assignment on the detained cop shooter. An admirable structure on paper, yes, but the result here feels rather unbalanced. The film rushes through Lee's official assignment, often forcing its parallels with his spiritual journey. Leslie's storyline, meanwhile, carries the cheesy quality of most other Christian films (all of which show a reluctance to commit to Catholic faith's fullness), even giving us a heavy-handed moment where Mike Vogel as Lee drunkenly accuses his wife, "You're cheating on me...with JESUS!" The excessive sentimentality goes so far as to deprive of screentime a poignant subplot involving Lee's estranged parents that also severely neglects the great talents of actor Robert Forster (Jackie Brown, The Descendants).
Lee's spiritual journey and interviews with various professionals on certain theories that attempt to disprove the historical Jesus make up the best scenes of the film. Most of the reasonable counter-arguments against the typical charges find themselves here, including the many unearthed New Testament copies (a number that dwarfs those of the famous writings of the day, like Homer's Iliad and Odyssey), how women discover the empty tomb in all four gospels (despite the common distrust of female testimonies at the time), the dilemma of many martyrs, the improbability of mass hallucinations, and the medical and physiological ramifications of crucifixion. In discussing the last topic, medical expert Dr. Alexander Metherell (Tom Nowicki) even matter-of-factly discredits the Muslim faith, whose sacred Quran suggests that Jesus survived the crucifixion despite being written more than six centuries after Christ. Above all, the scenes showcase Lee's seasoned reporting skills (much credit to Mike Vogel for his honest, no-nonsense portrayal). Keep an eye out for a truly impressive moment involving Lee, a payphone, and an "Out of Order" sign.
To compare the Lee Strobel of today with his hotshot reporter of 1980 presents a compelling conversion story for today's Christians, and The Case for Christ effectively finds him at the border between unbelief and belief. Despite a rough and imbalanced story structure, the film's scenes of demonstrating the reasonableness, not to mention the fittingness, of Christ's earthly life, death, and resurrection will fascinate even the most resistant of viewers, which can encourage proper discourse between believers and non-believers. Achieving that alone would make this film more worthwhile than most of it already is.
R.N.B.
Can You Ever Forgive Me? (2018)
Struggling Outcasts Turn to Sophisticated Crime in Can You Ever Forgive Me
(Originally published on the Impacting Culture blog)
"I'll have you know, I'm a better Dorothy Parker than Dorothy Parker!" - Lee Israel (Melissa McCarthy) to Jack Hock (Richard E. Grant)
Potential spoilers below
Money - or, more specifically, the lack of it - tends to twist the lives of many. It is common to observe this phenomenon among the impoverished. It also fascinates to observe this in those who have tasted fame and yearn to relish it once more. One such example is Lee Israel, who passed away in 2014 after having profiled the lives of female celebrities during the 1960s, 1970s, and 1980s. Notoriety, however, does not reside with the late Ms. Israel for her death, nor for the legitimate early prime of her adult career. Instead, Ms. Israel made her name in the early 1990s forging more than 400 correspondences from deceased writers, playwrights, and actors.
Can You Ever Forgive Me?, directed by Marielle Heller from a screenplay by Nicole Holofcener and Jeff Whitty (adapting Israel's 2008 confessional autobiography), covers that 1991-92 criminal adventure of Israel's life. This stew of biographical drama and tragedy, sprinkled with comedic touches, a detached toleration of same-sex romantic flings, and an indifferent view on Ms. Israel's actions will not satisfy everyone. Those intrigued will find, under the no-nonsense direction of Ms. Heller, worthwhile and steady performances by a modest Melissa McCarthy and a lively Richard E. Grant.
In our modern age with a show like the History channel's Pawn Stars firmly in the "meme" stage, it is easy to forget the recent necessity for authentication with regards to collector's items. Offering a peek at that transition and one key incident that facilitated it serves as perhaps the sneakiest asset of Can You Ever Forgive Me? Holofcener and Whitty further highlight it by having McCarthy and Grant question even the authority of authenticators, leading to one of cinema in 2018's more humorous finales. That said, the forging montages make Israel's newfound career path appear far easier than it did. It would have helped if the filmmakers had dwelled a bit more on the complex science and routine of Israel's forgery that not only sparked her writing talents, but also helped her evade the authorities for as long as she did.
At its inception, the makers behind Can You Ever Forgive Me? had hoped to cast Julianne Moore and Chris O'Dowd as Lee Israel and (likely) Jack Hock, respectively. Such choices might have worked to get the film greenlit, but McCarthy and Grant come off as the more natural fits for the characters. As with 2015's Spy, Melissa McCarthy tempers her improvisational vulgar rambling. She paints Lee Israel as a writer who has tasted fame yet whose intolerable attitude has driven away further success, female companions, and people in general. Her appearance here almost makes me forget that she starred just months earlier in the horrendous Life of the Party and The Happytime Murders. (Side note: The Happytime Murders wishes it were Peter Jackson's 1989 black comedy Meet the Feebles.) Meanwhile, I prefer Richard E. Grant in roles like Jack Hock, a chipper yet aging, drug-dealing gay prostitute-for-lodging and perhaps Lee's only friend, rather than as bland villains like Dr. Zander Rice in last year's Logan. Both McCarthy and Grant's turns have popped up in recent Oscar conversations and they would serve as welcome nominees for Best Actress and Best Supporting Actor awards, respectively. I will admit, though, that I will not miss them should they fall short of making the cut.
Can You Ever Forgive Me? will go down as yet another quiet gem from cinema in 2018. Melissa McCarthy and Richard E. Grant have lent their talents well in providing the definitive dramatization of this odd episode in recent literary world history. If for nothing else, audiences should take to heart the lessons of this curious episode - to exercise caution in how they obtain their means of living and that crime, however adventurous it can get, never truly pays.
(Parental Note: Can You Ever Forgive Me? has been rated R by the MPAA "for language including some sexual references, and brief drug use". It has also been rated 15 by the BBFC for "very strong language" and "drug misuse".)
R.N.B.
Mid90s (2018)
Mid90s: Teen Spirit Thrives in Jonah Hill's Directorial Debut
(Originally published on the Impacting Culture blog)
"You literally take the hardest hits out of anybody I've ever seen in my life. You know you don't have to do that, right?" - Ray (Na-kel Smith) to Stevie (Sunny Suljic)
Potential spoilers below
A common adage heard in every writing class is "Write what you know". Such advice is crucial for first-time filmmakers. Included in that category is the 34-year-old Jonah Hill. Hill has ascended from acting in risqué comedies like Superbad, Get Him to the Greek, and 21 Jump Street to award-nominated performances in Moneyball, The Wolf of Wall Street, and War Dogs. Such experience now encourages him to step behind the camera with Mid90s, a capsule look at the laid-back yet reckless world of his youth. A somewhat bare and heavily mature slice-of-life anchored by Sunny Suljic's lead turn, captured on 16mm film like a quaint CRTV, and featuring an eclectic soundtrack of urban deep cuts from the era, Mid90s serves as a solid first step on a new path in Jonah Hill's career.
13-year-old Stevie (Sunny Suljic) suffers quietly through his turbulent home life in 1990s Los Angeles. His young single mother Dabney (Katherine Waterston) rotates through men in search of a stable love life. His older brother Ian (Lucas Hedges) inspires Stevie with his late '80s and early '90s pop culture merchandise and memorabilia, yet he also torments him (as older brothers do) while butting heads constantly with their mother. Stevie becomes fascinated by, and soon befriends, a group of skateboarding teenagers, including leader Ray (Na-kel Smith), "F.S." (Olan Prenatt; initials used here stand for real in-movie nickname, which combines two major obscenities), "Fourth Grade" (Ryder McLaughlin), and Ruben (Gio Galicia). Now dubbed "Sunburn" by his new friends, Stevie enters a world of excitement as well as danger.
Writer-director Jonah Hill lists as inspiration for Mid90s works such as 1995's Kids, 2006's This Is England, 1999's Ratcatcher (debut of Lynne Ramsay, who helmed You Were Never Really Here from earlier this year), and even 1993's The Sandlot (F.S.'s nickname reminds one of Sandlot's "Yeah Yeah", played by Marty York). All those movies, despite their diverse time settings, were made through the lens of concurrent '90s and early 2000s pop culture. Recent works like Sing Street, It, and Ready Player One served as more fond emulations of '80s pop culture. Mid90s, meanwhile, comes off as a pioneer in confronting the reality of '90s America as an urban wasteland, burnt out by '80s excess and filled with kids yearning for fulfillment - or at least, new ways to pass time - through risky adventure. It was no mistake that extreme sports like skateboarding made their breakthroughs in this decade.
Yet while the skateboarding lifestyle alone suits most, some like Na-kel Smith's Ray consider the possibility of skating as a career. To Stevie and the rest, he embodies the lifestyle with skill and style. Ray did not, however, become group leader (sans nickname) because he was the dumbest, the laziest, or the most reckless. It was because he was himself without fear. He also sees his friends without overlooking their fatal flaws, recognizing that they might be holding him back from a promising career as a professional skateboarder.
As Stevie, Sunny Suljic (the son in The Killing of a Sacred Deer) makes for the ideal blank slate for receiving these insights from the supporting characters. Ruben stands out early as the one who brings in Stevie, giving up his status as the "young kid" of the group and thus the very thing to help him become the center of attention. Hill, d.p. Christopher Blauvelt, and editor Nick Houy (Lady Bird) call attention to Ruben's jealousy for Stevie well at first, yet Hill decides to stick primarily to Ray's effect on Stevie soon afterwards, leaving little for Stevie to digest from the rest. His mother Dabney struggles to connect with Stevie, yet she surrenders him to his friends. His brother Ian offers blunt advice from a position of superiority, which is all he has given his apparent and odd lack of friends. Lastly, while F.S. parties hard by himself, Hill could have connected the timid Fourth Grade's interest in filmmaking to the surging independent cinema scene of that time. Divesting some of Ray's observations to the other supporting characters confessing themselves to Stevie would have given Mid90s additional balance and fill.
Perhaps this restraint will confine Mid90s to a hidden gem status in later years. Hill's debut, despite the realistic and era-accurate adult content packed into its 84-minute runtime, is comforting compared to the compact yet electrifying tension of Gustav Möller's debut The Guilty from earlier this year. Hill succeeds most in pioneering the naked and cynical gaze back towards that decade sandwiched between '80s excess and the internet-driven '00s - a decade cherished by many (including this reviewer) as an unforgettable pop culture gold mine. Moreover, he accomplishes this in the same year that he stars in Netflix's Maniac and gives yet another Oscar-worthy supporting performance in Don't Worry, He Won't Get Far on Foot.
May 2018 serve as a launchpad for Jonah Hill and his collaborators to rise to further artistic success, both in front of and behind the camera.
(Parental Note: Mid90s has been rated R by the MPAA for "pervasive language, sexual content, drug and alcohol use, and some violent behavior/disturbing images - all involving minors".)
R.N.B.
First Man (2018)
Ryan Gosling Becomes America's Reluctant Hero in First Man
(Originally published on the Impacting Culture blog)
"We need to fail. We need to fail down here so we don't fail up there." - Neil Armstrong (Ryan Gosling) to Manned Spaceflight Center director Bob Gilruth (Ciarán Hinds) and Astronaut Office chief Deke Slayton (Kyle Chandler)
Potential spoilers below
The bio found at the bottom of each of my reviews here on the Impacting Culture blog begins with how I "once aspired to become an astronaut". I became passionate about the Space Race in the '60s and early '70s ever since that one fateful week in my sixth grade science class, when my teacher screened director Ron Howard's 1995 space docudrama Apollo 13. While I have since deviated from that career path, my interest in the Space Race remains strong and has even spilled into my current occupation as a cinephile and film critic. Movies like the aforementioned Apollo 13, Interstellar, The Right Stuff, and Gravity perfectly fuse sports genre-esque stakes and catharsis with technological might and ample amounts of existential reflection.
As for dramatizing the historical race to Moon in particular, one should look no further than the 1998 HBO miniseries From the Earth to the Moon. It was this work of media and Tony Goldwyn's aloof yet easygoing portrayal of astronaut Neil Armstrong - specifically in parts of episode 1 and all of episode 6 - that dwelled in my mind as I approached First Man. Scripted by Spotlight writer Josh Singer and serving as director Damien Chazelle's follow-up to his beloved 2016 musical La La Land, First Man seeks to deliver an intimate portrait of a job-focused hero whose name has gone down in history. The result is less an Apollo 13 or Right Stuff and more of an Interstellar-deeply-felt, yet frigid to the point of leaving one at a conflicted loss, both for the intriguing character motivations and for the astonishing technical crafts on display.
First Man tracks the story of Neil Armstrong (Ryan Gosling, holding close to his work in Blade Runner 2049) from his days as a retired Navy pilot turned X-15 test pilot in late 1961 to the quarantine period following his (spoiler alert) successful command of the watershed Apollo 11 mission in mid-1969. Such is an overwhelming amount to cover in 141 minutes and First Man is mostly successful with regards to following Armstrong, the astronaut and father. Singer, Chazelle, and Gosling elect to portray Armstrong from the start in light of one key traumatic moment - the death of his two-year-old daughter Karen from a brain tumor in early 1962. "I think it would be unreasonable to assume that it wouldn't have some effect," says Armstrong when the subject is brought up months later during his astronaut recruitment interview with Manned Spaceflight Center director Bob Gilruth (Ciarán Hinds) and Astronaut Office chief Deke Slayton (Kyle Chandler).
In all honesty, this story decision has left me feeling mixed. Perhaps that is due to how little I knew of this early tragedy in Armstrong's time as a husband and father. This tragedy, furthermore, played no factor in Tony Goldwyn's turn in From the Earth to the Moon, so I began asking myself whether either of these works handled this element appropriately. In First Man's case, Karen's sickness and eventual death gets an all-too-brisk treatment that, arguably to a contrived degree, hangs over not just Neil's next eight years, but those of his dutiful and resilient wife Janet (Claire Foy).
Yes, the loss of such a young child and of any child bears a heavy weight on every parent. Cinematic works from Don't Look Now, In America, Rabbit Hole, and even the aforementioned Gravity and Interstellar testify to that struggle. First Man argues that Karen's death pushed Neil Armstrong to close himself off to everyone and everything except the mission at hand. Accordingly, the celestial wonder, assisted by Paul Lambert's crisp visual effects and Justin Hurwitz's delicate and heart-pumping score, gets isolated to just the breathtaking Gemini 8 and Apollo 11 sequences. (Both match, if not slightly surpass due to the score and updated visual effects, their dramatizations in From the Earth to the Moon.)
The astronaut camaraderie, and thus the overall human element, gets dampened as well. Promoting the balance between a sturdy family life and an astronaut career has good intentions. Yet all I have concluded from learning about this era is that this job turned most of its then-mostly men into terrible fathers, just as much - if not more - as any military service. Some die (Patrick Fugit as Elliot See and Jason Clarke as Ed White, for example), while the majority of others end up becoming distant to their loved ones to the point of divorce. (Unmentioned by the film, Neil and Janet's marriage would sadly end in divorce in 1994.) First Man plays up the psychological weight of Karen's death to a point beyond a grounding recommendation, despite Armstrong's cool attitude during training and missions that is largely absent in this biographical drama. Equally flight ground-worthy is Corey Stoll's take on Apollo 11 Lunar Module Pilot Edwin "Buzz" Aldrin as an irritating know-it-all. Such an attitude was only hinted at and far overshadowed by the aspiration to become the "first man" in Bryan Cranston's more reasonable portrayal in From the Earth to the Moon. Perhaps these, along with the paltry time spent with Apollo 11 Command Module Pilot Mike Collins (Lukas Haas), only emphasize for some the ease of working with the mission-focused Neil Armstrong.
First Man is not as relentless and lasting as Whiplash or La La Land. As expected for his debut of directing another writer's screenplay, Chazelle's touch gives off that slight detachment of a director-for-hire. Still, First Man is far from the misfire Chazelle ought to watch out for at this stage in his career. Chazelle, Singer, Gosling, and co., much like Neil Armstrong, intend on continuing the success of their careers. First Man is merely one of the many small steps they have taken and will continue to take in their lifelong and individual endeavors.
(Parental Note: First Man has been rated PG-13 by the MPAA "for some thematic content involving peril, and brief strong language". It has also been rated 12A by the BBFC for "infrequent strong language" and "moderate threat", and rated A-III (Adults) by the Catholic News Service for containing "brief scatological material, a few profanities and milder oaths, as well as a single rough and a handful of crude terms.")
R.N.B.
Den skyldige (2018)
The Pressures of a Confined Protector in Den Skyldige (The Guilty)
(Originally published on the Impacting Culture blog)
"No one is going to kill your mom, okay?" "Do you promise?" "I promise." - Asger Holm (Jakob Cedergren) and Mathilde Østergård (voiced by Katinka Evers-Jahnsen)
"Was it snakes?" "Yes...Yes, it was snakes." - Iben Østergård (voiced by Jessica Dinnage) and Asger Holm (Jakob Cedergren)
Potential spoilers below
For any budding filmmaker, making a feature debut is a daunting task. Since Orson Welles had already set the insurmountable gold standard for feature debuts with a little flick called Citizen Kane, it is best to start as simple and minimalist as possible and build up a career from there. Danish director Gustav Möller seems to have taken this route with The Guilty (Dansk: Den Skyldige), a thriller he co-wrote with Emil Nygaard Albertsen. Reminiscent of recent films like Locke and The Call, The Guilty and star Jakob Cedergren succeed in taking audiences to the bare extreme of cinematic tension.
Until their shifts end for the day, emergency dispatchers face an endless duel with time and Danish officer Asger Holm (Jakob Cedergren) is no exception. Holm normally works in the field with fellow officer Rashid (voiced by Omar Shargawi). For reasons soon revealed, however, Holm is temporarily stuck working as an emergency dispatcher while his boss Bo (voiced by Jacob Lohmann) substitutes for him in the field.
One call comes from a woman named Iben Østerård (voiced by Jessica Dinnage), who does not sound like she is in immediate danger. Holm realizes as the conversation progresses that Iben has been kidnapped. Further calls to Iben's home, where her daughter Mathilde (voiced by Katinka Evers-Jahnsen) and her infant son Oliver are alone, reveal that Iben's captor is her ex-husband Michael (voiced by Johan Olsen). When Michael cuts off their phone conversation, Holm must dive into the police database and dial more numbers in search of Iben before she and her captor disappear for good.
Isolating Asger Holm's journey to just two drab emergency dispatch offices challenges writer-director Gustav Möller to deliver without one word wasted. Möller and co-writer Emil Nygaard Albertsen first draw audiences in with the volatile pace of the dispatchers. Everything spoken or unspoken can mean life or death for the people on the other sides, so the dispatchers must practice steady nerves. Though he too had to master this, star Jakob Cedergren also had to have those nerves chipped away over 85 minutes and it greatly fascinates to watch his breakdown. Möller and Albertsen also leave room for comic relief: Early on, Holm amuses himself when a caller located near a red light district hesitates to admit that he got robbed by a prostitute he hired. Later on, Holm tries to call back Iben in a panic and he keeps answering and declining multiple calls from an injured bicyclist.
Production designer Gustav Pontoppidan makes the dispatch station feel confining, Jasper J. Spanning's cinematography probes into Asger Holm's business with stark lighting and a few well-focused long takes, and Carla Luffe provides the sharp cuts characteristic of a taut thriller. Yet perhaps the one technical craft worthy of top billing next to Jakob Cedergren is Oskar Skriver's sound work. Skriver and his crew masterfully adjust the voices on the opposite end of Asger Holm's calls to sound as clear and present as Holm hears them.
While Iben's kidnapping predicament unravels to horrific degrees, Möller also draws audiences to the pressing matter on Holm's mind. Themes of mental health and police brutality creep into a thriller that does more than follow an emergency dispatcher's shift. With these, Möller and Albertsen are less successful, choosing ambiguity over detailed clarity, especially for the latter theme. Increasing the context of the heavy issue on Holm's mind would have helped The Guilty avoid losing momentum, and thus making the 85-minute runtime feel a tad longer than it should, right before locking onto its home stretch.
With his feature debut The Guilty, writer-director Gustav Möller reminds us all of a peculiar tendency found in our broken human nature: Those in trouble try their best to cover their embarrassment and guilt by overdoing good. When their excessive good acts go haywire, they end up worsening their situation. Möller's thriller, though it could have benefited from greater detail regarding its protagonist's worries as they are slowly revealed, does not fail to highlight that such human behavior even affects the most hardened among us. The Guilty deserves its status as Denmark's official entry for the Best Foreign Language Film category at the upcoming 91st Oscars and it will not surprise me one bit if it becomes one of the final five nominees.
(Parental Note: The Guilty has been rated R by the MPAA. It has also been rated 15 by the BBFC for "strong language".)
R.N.B.
A Star Is Born (2018)
Gaga & Cooper Bring the Grit & the Pipes in A Star Is Born
(Originally published on the Impacting Culture blog)
"Hey." "What?" "I just wanted to take another look at you." - Jackson Maine (Bradley Cooper) and Ally (Lady Gaga)
Potential spoilers below
A Star Is Born - the story of a crossroads romance between a fading and alcoholic male star and a woman whose stardom lies just around the corner. For Hollywood, these four words link the years 1937, 1954, and 1976. (Some would even include 1932 and 2011.) Now, thanks to Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper (also writing, producing, and making his directorial debut), 2018 joins that list with vulnerable and raw energy.
The life of grizzled country rock star Jackson Maine (Bradley Cooper) has begun to unravel. Despite the care of his much older brother and manager Bobby (Sam Elliot), Jackson's tinnitus is now affecting his playing ability, further hampered by severe alcoholism. Thirsty after yet another sold-out concert, Jackson stumbles into a drag bar. There, he discovers Ally (Lady Gaga), a struggling daytime waitress who moonlights as a bar singer, and becomes enraptured by her voice. Jackson soon convinces Ally to join him on tour to sing as well as contribute her own songs. As their romantic and artistic partnership blossoms, others rush to thrust Ally into stardom.
For Ally, fame and fortune might have to cost her the love of her life and the toxic habits he cannot overcome.
One trend I have noticed in each proper A Star Is Born version is how the actress, despite playing the rising starlet, edges out her male co-star in terms of fame. Fredric March's credits extend to three years before Janet Gaynor's start and he had already won a Best Actor Oscar (and would go on to win a second); Gaynor had won her Best Actress award at the 1st Oscars, had reigned as a box office queen, and would effectively retire from acting soon after the 1937 iteration returned her to the top. James Mason was more popular in his native Great Britain and his role in the 1954 musical numbered among his early substantial Hollywood parts; Judy Garland was seeking to bounce back from the end of her lucrative tenure at MGM that included The Wizard of Oz, Meet Me in St. Louis, and Easter Parade. Lastly, even the biggest Kris Kristofferson fan could not deny the mega-stardom of Barbra Streisand at the time of the 1976 rock musical's release.
Lady Gaga and Bradley have seen steady success in pop music and film acting, respectively, yet Gaga's medium has given her the higher profile. Thus, the two maintain the Star Is Born co-star trend of a more famous actress and a somewhat less famous actor. However, Gaga has since grown from the aggressive and radio-friendly The Fame, The Fame Monster, and Born This Way to the more polarizing and less radio-friendly Artpop, Joanne, and Cheek to Cheek, her throwback collaboration with Tony Bennett.
To counterbalance the diminishing top five hits as the 2010s continued, Gaga has ventured more into acting, including appearances in FX's American Horror Story (seasons 5 and 6). Gaga's artistic maturity, along with a slight focus on her unglamorous facial features, contribute to the naked and rebirth-like luminescence of her performance in A Star Is Born. Even as she evolves (or regresses) into someone similar to her real-life self from 2009, you believe and become inspired by Gaga as she takes the rough first steps to musical stardom, especially during the numbers "Shallow" and "Always Remember Us This Way".
The summer of 2009 that, if not ruled by the sounds of the Black Eyed Peas, was ruled by Lady Gaga, saw the release of The Hangover. The Golden Globe-winning comedy, which arguably defined 2009 along with box office behemoth Avatar, propelled Cooper and his several of his co-stars to heights of fame yet unattained. (Cooper and Hangover producer-director Todd Phillips reunite here as two of A Star Is Born's producers.) Cooper soon followed two disappointing Hangover sequels with appearances in Silver Linings Playbook, American Hustle, and American Sniper (also as producer), earning him four Oscar nominations in three consecutive years.
2015 through 2017 were comparatively quiet for Cooper, though one can attribute that to his four-fold duties for A Star Is Born. Cooper labors to achieve Jackson Maine's rugged and tragic drunkenness without making it appear overwrought, though emphasizing the unpreventable tinnitus would have curbed the melodramatic touches of depicting alcoholism. Cooper diverts such potentially distracting passion into the kinetic direction of the musical performance scenes. The crosscutting between Jackson and his band playing "Out of Time" and "Alibi" and Ally and her friend Ramon (an underused Anthony Ramos) quitting their restaurant jobs and flying out to Jackson's gig is a standout segment. Outside these and the central relationship, I would not rush to nominate Cooper in Best Director over other 2018 efforts, including Christopher McQuarrie for Mission: Impossible - Fallout, but A Star Is Born serves as a fantastic directorial debut nevertheless.
In all likelihood, the populist factor of 2018's A Star Is Born might guarantee the movie a spot in the next Best Picture category. It continues the focus on musicians rather than actors that started with the 1976 rock musical, yet it scales back the excesses of post-Paramount Decision Old Hollywood in 1954 and of New Hollywood in 1976. The result is a grounded and updated reflection on the tug of war between fame, fortune, romance, and addiction. The story, though a fixture of Hollywood's long-held resistance to originality, always manages to reach a new generation.
Who knows? Perhaps sometime in the next two decades, I too will sit before the silver screen to review once again the latest version of A Star Is Born.
(Parental Note: A Star Is Born has been rated R by the MPAA "for language throughout, some sexuality/nudity, and substance abuse". It has also been rated 15 by the BBFC for "strong language" and "drug misuse", and rated A-III (Adults) by the Catholic News Service for containing "a suicide, implied premarital sexual activity, fleeting upper female nudity, occasional drug use, a couple of profanities, and frequent rough language.")
R.N.B.
Smallfoot (2018)
A Kid-Friendly Tug of War Between Reality & Myth in Smallfoot
(Originally published on the Impacting Culture blog)
"The only thing stronger than fear is curiosity." - The Stonekeeper (Common), rapping to Migo (Channing Tatum) in the song "Let It Lie"
Potential spoilers below
Despite the presence of two current animated occupants in my yearly top ten films list, 2018 in cinema has disappointed me with its barren animated landscape. The legacy of the Parr superhero family's long-awaited return in Incredibles 2 sinks by millimeters as the days pass. I struggle hard to suppress my awareness of Ralph Breaks the Internet's Disney-indulgent marketing and Spider-Man: Into the Spider Verse's over-revealing trailers. Beyond the few underseen anime gems, everything else has been either harmless filler (e.g., Hotel Transylvania 3: Summer Vacation and Teen Titans Go! To the Movies) or low-quality and dated Chinese imports (e.g., Duck Duck Goose) dumped on streaming.
Because of this, Warner Animation Group's Smallfoot comes off somewhat as a breath of fresh air. Most of its elements amuse and play safe, never venturing beyond passable. On the other hand, the general crux of its story, written by director Karey Kirkpatrick and Clare Sera (adapting Yeti Tracks by Sergio Pablos), presses audiences to ponder over its takeaways for some time.
Migo (Channing Tatum) is a member of a yeti village that lies hidden on a Himalayan peak that stretches above the clouds. The yetis believe that nothing exists below the clouds, according to the ancient stones that compose the robe worn by community elder the Stonekeeper (Common). Dorgle (Danny DeVito), Migo's father, holds the special task of banging a gong with his head to bring up the big "light snail" in the sky. While training to succeed his father in the role, Migo witnesses a plane crash and encounters the long-fabled "smallfoot". Failing to provide proof of his discovery to his fellow simple-minded yetis, the Stonekeeper banishes Migo from the village. Determined to prove them all wrong, Migo receives help from the Smallfoot Evidentiary Society (S.E.S.), which includes Gwangi (LeBron James), Kolka (Gina Rodriguez, a standout from Annihilation), Fleem (Ely Henry), and secret leader Meechee (Zendaya), the Stonekeeper's daughter and Migo's longtime crush.
Good thing TV host Percy Patterson (James Corden) is currently in the region trying to save his failing wildlife documentary series.
Right from Channing Tatum's expository opening voiceover, Smallfoot presents itself as a likeable fable. Its somewhat satirical take on blind faith and openness to the sensible and measurable world beyond, however, will bring slight discomfort to those of a Judeo-Christian background. In several ways, Smallfoot does have an askew view on that perspective. The Ten Commandment-like stones, which form the priest-like Stonekeeper's robe, serve as numerous rigid rules from which the yetis must never stray, either by deliberation or even curiosity. That twists the primary and underrated lesson of the Old Testament - that spiritual death is worse than physical death - that God's chosen people fail to grasp time and again, from the Garden of Eden to Calvary and beyond. Lastly, while all of salvation history culminates in Jesus Christ and going out to bring the whole world to him via his spouse (the Church), the yetis live as though the Jews never descended from Mt. Sinai. The practical insights on tribalism are valid and valuable, but the tendencies of a fallen nature and the harmony of faith and reason are part of the journey to live the true teachings. Non-discerning viewers might not manage to keep these in mind.
Smallfoot couches that challenging subject in a modest plot that shifts between two locations - the yeti village on the mountaintop and the human village in the adjacent valley. No one in particular stands out from the voice cast, and I still wonder whether the movie featured just enough Ely Henry (as comic relief yeti Fleem) or could have featured him more. Smallfoot's biggest missed opportunity is the lack of time spent with Danny DeVito as Migo's father Dorgle and the inevitable disillusionment from his village role - reminiscent of the titular rooster character from the play Chantecler by Edmond Rostand.
Co-written by director Kirkpatrick and his older brother Wayne, the musical numbers (playlist here) are catchy for the most part. "Perfection" seems inspired by the easygoing lyrics of "Life's a Happy Song" from 2011's The Muppets and the sunny mood of "Another Day of Sun" from 2016's La La Land. Score composer Heitor Pereira features the song's melody in major and minor versions later on. "Wonderful Life" borrows the rousing spirit of "How Far I'll Go" from 2016's Moana. The mixing of Zendaya's voice sounds odd at first, but the song does get a fair reprise version involving the whole yeti village when Migo introduces them to Percy. Common's bars in the villain song "Let It Lie" start fair and then escalate towards the end to punctuate the song's dark insights. On the other hand, there is "Percy's Pressure". Not only did the Kirkpatrick brothers include Queen and David Bowie's "Under Pressure", one of the most overplayed songs in pop culture, but they had the gall to rewrite the lyrics. Easily one of the most embarrassing moments of 2018 in cinema.
Smallfoot's subject matter and catchy songs manage to ultimately overshadow much of the animated comedy musical's more cringeworthy touches and slapstick asides. Future audiences might continue to find its pressing questions worthwhile, especially if some sort of sequel is in order. Christian viewers especially need not shy away from such family fare. After all, the surest way to discover the strength of one's faith and love is when it is put it to the test.
(Parental Note: Smallfoot has been rated G by the MPAA "for some action, rude humor, and thematic elements". It has also been rated PG by the BBFC for "infrequent mild bad language" and rated A-II (Adults and adolescents) by the Catholic News Service for containing "a misguided portrayal of religion and some rude humor.")
R.N.B.
White Boy Rick (2018)
The Ambitious White Boy Rick Bites Off More Than It Can Chew
(Originally published on the Impacting Culture blog)
"It was good, wasn't it? When we were kids, for a little while?"
"You still are a kid, Ricky."
- Brother Richard "White Boy Rick" Wershe, Jr. (Richie Merritt) and sister Dawn Wershe (Bel Powley)
Potential spoilers below
Time once again for me to invest in a movie trailer.
As with Logan Lucky last year and with Jackie in October the year before, I saw a trailer at the start of the summer movie season that stopped me in my tracks. I would, in any other case, resist this as one prefers to mull over a film only after I have seen it. Lately, as a personal experiment, I have opened myself to one or at most two trailers per year and welcome the expectations to which I will soon compare with the actual movie. With its part-time VHS filter and sound effects, coupled with a brilliant remix of the 1977 disco classic "I Feel Love" by Donna Summer, the trailer for White Boy Rick prepared me for a gritty and sprawling biographical drama - a crime saga more akin to 1990's GoodFellas than the vulgar excess of 2013's The Wolf of Wall Street.
I did not realize these past few months that French-born and British-raised director Yann Demange had worked from a spec screenplay by Adam Weiss and Logan Miller & Noah Miller. Given the unspectacular and largely small-screen output of the writers and that this is merely Demange's sophomore big-screen outing, it does not surprise me that the film falls short of its Scorsese-esque aspirations.
The crack epidemic and the War on Drugs rages in mid-1980s Detroit. Richard Wershe, Sr. (Matthew McConaughey), an illegal arms dealer, hopes to open up a video store one day with his truant teenage son Rick Jr. (newcomer Richie Merritt). Soon affectionately known by friends and colleagues as "White Boy Rick", Rick Jr. helps sell his dad's wares to local drug-dealing gangs while also yearning for the return of his addict older sister Dawn (an other-worldly Bel Powley). In the midst of this, Rick Jr. is recruited as a temporary informant by FBI Agents Alex Snyder (Jennifer Jason Leigh), Frank Byrd (Rory Cochrane), and Detroit P.D. narcotics officer Mel "Roach" Jackson (Brian Tyree Henry). However, as naturally skilled Rick Jr. is as an informant and as quick as he is at learning the lucrative drug-dealing trade, such a career is not meant to last.
Giving up guns and drug dealing for the law-abiding quest to start a video store chain? Father and son know deep down that it is all a pipe dream.
There is little doubt that director Yann Demange succeeds with White Boy Rick in making a definitive dramatization of its titular real-life figure. The movie still leaves more to be desired. White Boy Rick makes its first mistake by throwing its audience into the middle of Rick Jr.'s story, with brief and on-the-move character introductions. This can work for most other stories, though it does not suffice for biographical tales. After all, the primary point of that subgenre is to get at the heart of their subjects. This would involve more time settings than most actors would struggle to handle in a convincing way without the aid of a great makeup and hairstyling department.
That does not deny White Boy Rick from showcasing any great performances. In his debut role, Richie Merritt portrays Rick Jr. for almost four straight years. At his side, veteran Matthew McConaughey does likewise as Rick Sr.. After divorcing his wife and failing so far to protect his daughter from crack addiction, Rick Sr. toils as a single father and does his best to stop his son from ending up worse. Blowing everyone else out of the water, however, is Bel Powley as Dawn Wershe. Coming off her breakthrough role in 2015's The Diary of a Teenage Girl, Ms. Powley transforms herself into such a shell of a young woman that few would realize that the actress is not a Detroit teenager, but rather a 26-year-old British starlet.
Weiss and the Logan brothers' screenplay prevents me from writing similar praises for the rest of the cast. It is almost laughable how relative big-screen newcomers Jonathan Majors, RJ Cyler (the standout in last year's Power Rangers, which I wrote about here), Taylour Paige, and their fellow black actors largely get set aside shortly after the midpoint. Worse yet, they only participate in cursory development scenes beforehand. Why bother having longtime screen veterans Bruce Dern and Piper Laurie make passing appearances as Rick Jr.'s senile grandparents? Lastly, the script denies prolific British character actor Eddie Marsan a bigger role in White Boy Rick's second half. These are all supporting performances that could have brought color to a 2 1/2-hour-plus portrait of Rick Jr.. The inexperience of director Demange and the screenwriters constrains the two-hour portrait to just one or two hues.
Perhaps that is why White Boy Rick leaves me wanting more. Richard Wershe, Jr.'s story demands an unabridged and exhausting commitment, perhaps a miniseries, rather than a somewhat truncated biodrama that sacrifices a fleshed-out supporting cast. White Boy Rick wisely strays from glorifying Rick Jr.'s life of crime, government-sponsored or not. Yet much of its runtime is a fairly high plain that trends downward over two hours, puttering to sea level by the time the end credits arrive. Contrast that with the trailer, in which "I Feel Love" builds anticipation with explosive and heart-pumping excitement.
Perhaps director Demange and writers Weiss and the Logan brothers should take inspiration henceforth from the former trajectory, rather than the latter.
(Parental Note: White Boy Rick has been rated R by the MPAA "for language throughout, drug content, violence, some sexual references, and brief nudity". It has also been rated 15 by the BBFC for "strong language, violence," and "drug misuse and references" and rated L (Limited adult audience) by the Catholic News Service for containing "some gory violence, benignly viewed adultery, drug use, brief rear and upper female nudity, frequent profanities and a few milder oaths, and pervasive rough and crude language.")
R.N.B.
Pick of the Litter (2018)
The Furry Leading the Blind in Pick of the Litter
(Originally published on the Impacting Culture blog)
"Yes, a cane can help, but it's not as great as a fuzzy face with a wet nose." - Janet Gearhart, featured client of Guide Dogs for the Blind (GDB)
Potential spoilers below
When I was a child, out and about in public, I remember the excitement of possibly getting away with petting any dogs that I came across. Yet for some reason, there were certain canines I learned at once were off-limits - specifically the ones dressed in tight, brightly-colored vests and equipped with a bar handle of sorts. If I was not chastised by an adult first for approaching these dogs, then I would recall feeling confused, even disappointed, that these dogs were so calm and docile compared to the more fun members of their species.
Over time, one learns to respect and get used to the sudden presence of a guide dog in any setting - church, restaurants, even the bus. It becomes somewhat taken for granted by those with functioning eyesight that these canine companions keep their blind owners from walking into traffic or falling down a stairwell. After watching Don Hardy, Jr. and Dana Nachman's modest and lighthearted documentary Pick of the Litter, my admiration for these furry creatures has now increased a hundredfold.
Five adorable Labrador puppies enter the world at the Guide Dogs for the Blind (GDB) center in San Rafael, CA. As the "P" litter, the three males are named "Potomac", "Patriot", and "Phil", while the two females are named "Primrose" and "Poppet". Bred to one day bring independence, companionship, and joy to blind people waiting in line throughout the country, the next twenty months will become quite eventful for these five rascals. After their first two months at GDB, volunteer "raisers" continue nurturing the puppies. Veteran or first-timers, the "raisers" will struggle to reconcile with the fact that these are not their pets and that they must return them to GDB in ten months, when the real training begins. As cute as the five rapidly-growing dogs remain, the tough GDB employees cannot and will not overlook the slightest hints in the dogs of restlessness or distraction from shiny objects or other animals. GDB will not hesitate to "career change" (GDB jargon for "cut") any canine candidates from the program.
After all, only the best will make the cut.
Pick of the Litter begins with a brief montage of how past guide dogs have saved the lives of their owners, including Salty and Roselle from the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks. (Much kudos to editors Hardy, Jr.; Nachman, and Jacob Stein for blurring the clip of the second plane crash, both for consideration of the content as well as how sadly recognizable that footage is for many.) However, Pick of the Litter does not center on their exploits. Rather, the 81-minute documentary is part-education course and part-condensed reality competition series. Feel-good and instructional to a fault, Pick of the Litter will benefit those who have little to no knowledge of the rigorous training undertaken by guide dog candidates.
Perhaps the biggest insight derives from how seriously GDB takes their job. As one employee remarks early on, anywhere between all and none of the members of "P" litter could graduate. A candidate's one unshakable impulse can mean the difference between the life and death of their handicapped owners. GDB "career changes" some graduates who struggle to meet expectations in the first few weeks or months with their owner. It amused the audience behind me whenever the canines made the occasional stumble in their five crucial final tests or when the graphic of "P" litter dogs still in the running came up to indicate which dog has just been "career changed". The viewers' enjoyment and the frustration of the "raisers" and expert trainers at these developments made for fascinating contrasts, perhaps akin to how the vast majority of human males are called to the married life while only a select few are called to the ordained life. For GDB employees and those affiliated with them, guide dog might as well constitute the highest calling for all canines.
2017 showcased both the role of dogs in the military (Megan Leavey) and across human lives in general (A Dog's Purpose, still underrated). 2018 has gone further: Director Albert Hughes took on the origins of human and canine companionship in Alpha (a surprising gem). With Show Dogs, director Raja Gosnell and co. thankfully failed to bring back the early 2000s and unintentionally drew great controversy as they threw a talking police dog into the demanding and posh world of dog shows. Modern cinema auteur Wes Anderson made canines the stars and scapegoats in Isle of Dogs, his masterful fusion of political conspiracy, coming-of-age adventure, and all things Japan. Finally, the documentary Pick of the Litter has reminded us all that while most of the dogs that pass by on the street think everything of their humans, there are those select furry quadrupeds - clad in vests and equipped with bar handles - to whom their humans entrust their very lives.
To all guide dogs, in lieu of vocalized praise and a thorough belly rub, we spiritually bid a most hearty, "Who's a good boy? Who's a good girl? You are!"
(Parental Note: Though Pick of the Litter has not been rated by the MPAA, this critic assures all readers that, apart from a non-bloody yet explicit live birth of a puppy towards the beginning, the documentary is appropriate for all audiences.)
R.N.B.
The Wife (2017)
Glenn Close Reaches Her "Nobel" Limit in The Wife
(Originally published on the Impacting Culture blog)
"Please don't paint me as a victim; I am much more interesting than that." - Joan Castleman (Glenn Close) to Nathaniel Bone (Christian Slater)
Potential spoilers below
While the cinematic medium honors its origins in photography twenty-four times per second, it also takes much inspiration from the stage with regards to storytelling and of course acting. Films that hold extra close to the medium's theatrical roots, however, tend to bore viewers with flat visuals and flamboyant acting - necessary for the live stage, excessive on the screen. The best of these "filmed plays" offset their visual limitations with a gripping scenario and undeniable chemistry from among the actors. With established Swedish director Björn L. Runge making in his English-language debut and Jane Anderson adapting the 2003 novel by Meg Wolitzer, The Wife is one such example, boasting powerhouse performances that overshadow a few superfluous flashbacks.
One early morning in 1992, a phone call from the Swedish Academy in Stockholm reaches the Connecticut seaside home of Joan Castleman (Glenn Close) and her husband, acclaimed novelist Prof. Joe Castleman (Jonathan Pryce). The distinguished voice on the Swedish end informs the senior couple that Joe has won that year's Nobel Prize in Literature. Joan and Joe fly at once to the Swedish capital, accompanied by David (Max Irons), their adult son and aspiring writer who resents the lack of approval from his father. The renewed press attention on Joe has also attracted the shifty Nathaniel Bone (Christian Slater) to Stockholm with the hopes of enticing the Castlemans into giving him intimate details for his commissioned biography on Joe Castleman. As Joan tries to evade Bone, tolerates her husband flirting with his assigned photographer (Karin Franz Körlof), and assures her son of the quality of his latest story, she is pressured more than ever before to confront how her life has led her to this point.
Much of the attention around The Wife has largely centered on Glenn Close's Best Actress-worthy turn as the reserved yet content Joan Castleman, and for good reason. At first, her presence is almost too subdued, allowing for the attention to shower around Joe - the husband, the author, the Nobel laureate. Hopefully without saying much, this Stockholm trip is the end of the road for her in several profound ways. Yet it is Glenn Close's sure-handed poise that generates electricity in her performance, far more than the usual role of a woman mustering enough courage to break from certain shackles. She is a "king-maker", yes, but she also does not surrender her role as "peacemaker", as all great wives and mothers inhabit. She knows when to negotiate in measured tones and when and to whom she sees best to unleash her concentrated fury and years of frustration.
On the other hand, I fear that not much attention has been devoted to Jonathan Pryce's tricky execution of Prof. Joe Castleman. Reminding me of Jean-Louis Trintignant in 2012's Amour, Pryce does a different kind of heavy lifting compared to Close. Close bottles up, whereas Pryce provides the front and makes their relationship appear as normal and expected to themselves and to others, including their children Susannah (Alix Wilton Regan, seen just early on and heard later in a phone call) and especially the sensitive David. Pryce's carefree take on Joe contrasts well with David's long-held and relatable resentment, exhibited by actor Max Irons with a slight whiny edge that only gets vindicated as the movie progresses. Playing into these is Christian Slater, nicely cast as Nathaniel Bone. Bone's slimy reputation for weaseling into situations to help him write his next book holds him back when he sees the chance to uncover the truth about Joe and Joan Castleman.
The Wife loses a bit of its power when it shifts to flashback mode. Here, Harry Lloyd and newcomer Annie Starke (Glenn Close's real-life daughter) play the younger Joe and Joan, respectively. Most of their screentime, however, does little to enlighten, comes off as truncated, and borders on melodramatic. The one compelling flashback moment that dwarfs its Stockholm, 1992 reference, in terms of emotional impact, is when Joe takes away the toddler-aged David before he can run into the house's study, where Joan is busy at the typewriter. Less effective than the blink-and-you'll-miss-it flashes of the past seen earlier this year in You Were Never Really Here and Don't Worry, He Won't Get Far on Foot, it would have been much better to stick to Stockholm in 1992. There (and in the bookending Concorde flight scenes), it becomes delicious to discover when director Runge and his wife and editor Lena Runge wisely let the actors perform without the need for cutting.
In all likelihood, only the acclaim surrounding Glenn Close's spellbinding star turn will remain in the coming years. Such a shame, for The Wife lingers in the mind for other reasons besides Close. Pryce is impressive to watch, as is Slater, while Irons' role undoubtedly hits close to home for many an offspring of famous artists or anyone who feels held back by their elder relatives. Most of all, the revealed moral dilemma that cannot be discussed here resonates with genuine balance, right up to the final exchange between mother and grown-up child. The Wife reminds us all that letting actors act can suffice for great cinema.
(Parental Note: The Wife has been rated R by the MPAA "for language and some sexual content". It has also been rated 15 by the BBFC for "strong language" and "sex references". The opening scene involves a clothed senior married couple slowly initiating into sexual activity.)
R.N.B.
Searching (2018)
Searching: The Best Film the Screen POV Gimmick Will Ever Produce
(Originally published on the Impacting Culture blog)
"I didn't know her. I didn't know my daughter." - David Kim (John Cho) to Det. Sgt. Rosemary Vick (Debra Messing)
"As a parent myself, I can only imagine what you're feeling." - Det. Sgt. Rosemary Vick (Debra Messing) to David Kim (John Cho)
Potential spoilers below
Towards the end of the opening montage in Searching, Margot Kim (Michelle La) logs onto her Facebook account and clicks on the post box. No words are typed. The text cursor blinks, blinks, blinks. Adjacent, the words "What's on your mind?" Finally, Margot scrolls down her feed to a photo of her mother Pamela (Sara Sohn), clicks, holds, and drags the image off the web browser to a prepared funeral program document.
It was at this early moment in Searching that I knew, in terms of screen POV as a cinematic tool, that it has already surpassed both 2014's horror film Unfriended and its sequel Unfriended: Dark Web from a few months ago. As a matter of fact, it would not surprise me if this filmmaking novelty will never see a better outing than this thriller that, for the first time in Hollywood history, stars an Asian-American actor.
It has been two years since David Kim (John Cho) lost his wife Pamela (Sara Sohn) to lymphoma. David feels confident that he and his 16-year-old daughter Margot (Michelle La) have moved on from grieving as Margot studies for finals and anticipates summer vacation and college applications. All of sudden, Margot goes missing. David goes to the authorities, who open an investigation and assign Det. Sgt. Rosemary Vick (a dedicated Debra Messing) to the case. As the hours and days pass, David's brother Peter (Joseph Lee) suggests that David start examining his daughter's laptop. This takes David through the gamut of modern communication tools, both everyday and cryptic, where perhaps the tiniest detail within text, images, or video could bring his daughter back.
When Unfriended pioneered the screen POV technique four years ago, many criticized the horror flick beyond just succumbing to obnoxious modern horror clichés such as irredeemable characters. The new criticism focused on how Unfriended gave audiences a stale movie experience riddled with numerous computer inaccuracies and leaps of logic. The improved setup for the sequel Unfriended: Dark Web from a few months ago did little to make the screen POV gimmick more involving.
Searching, by tackling a more traditional thriller plot, reveals that the prior two horror movies unwisely constrained themselves to a real-time progression. Writer-director Aneesh Chaganty, in collaboration with fellow writer Sev Ohanian and d.p. Juan Sebastian Baron, set out to render the story's screens less as a creative box and more as a different type of camera. Sure, certain revelations can come off as convenient and some text responses from off-screen characters come much sooner than most human hands can type. Nevertheless, the aforementioned craftsmen, along with editors Nick Johnson and Will Merrick and score composer Torin Borrowdale, generate a compelling and even methodical clarity to the proceedings. One way they do so is through screen zooms akin to customary camera pushes and cuts, giving more attention to the editing instead of just sitting back in a disaffected fashion like with the Unfriended movies. The filmmakers behind Searching transform loading signs, typing notifications, the movement of the pointing cursor, and the mere blinking of the text cursor in such ways that one can easily substitute the current frames with non-computer/phone screen close-ups of an anxious David Kim. They even generated tension from an overnight screensaver scene!
Searching's biggest blessing comes in the performances of its cast. John Cho has come a long way from his days in the Harold & Kumar stoner comedies (for mature viewers only). He impressed me in last year's quiet and soothing arthouse drama Columbus and now he carries Searching with vigorous conviction. Michelle La, despite not appearing for much of the thriller's present-day bulk, gives an under-appreciated turn as the missing Margot Kim. Seen in flashback when her father stumbles onto her YouCast channel, Margot's suppressed despondence after the death of her mother and at her subsequent lack of a social life and distance from her father reminded me of Mark Rylance in Ready Player One from several months back. Finally (and without saying much), Debra Messing's turn as Det. Sgt. Rosemary Vick will likely serve as the predominant reason for revisiting Searching in the years to come.
In light of how the cinematic horror and thriller genres often use novel ways to make their entries stand out, many have compared screen POV to the found footage device popularized in 1999's The Blair Witch Project and 2007's Paranormal Activity. As essential and iconic as those two films are, instead I hold Searching in the same high regard as the 2007 Spanish found footage horror film REC. With regards to their respective narrative gimmicks, I honestly believe that both Searching and REC will end up as the best cinematic experiences - or at least, the least problematic cinematic experiences - their gimmicks will ever produce.
Neither screen POV nor found footage are destined to produce all-time cinematic masterpieces. Yet even the worst novelties deserve one or two chances to prove that they can be worthwhile. For screen POV, Searching is one chance taken that deserves all of its success.
(Parental Note: Searching has been rated PG-13 by the MPAA "for thematic content, some drug and sexual references, and for language". It has also been rated 15 by the BBFC for "infrequent strong language, moderate violence," and "drug references", and rated A-III (Adults) by the Catholic News Service for containing "mature themes, including suspicions of incest, images of and references to drug use, a mild oath, at least one rough and a few crude terms, and a single crass expression.")
R.N.B.
Yoru wa mijikashi aruke yo otome (2017)
The Wonders of Human Connection in The Night Is Short, Walk on Girl
(Originally published on the Impacting Culture blog)
"Senpai, what a coincidence!" "By chance, I was passing by." - "The Girl With Black Hair" (Kana Hanazawa) and "Senpai" (Gen Hoshino)
"Why do you drink?" "I was led by those I was fated to meet." - Rihaku-san (Mugihito) and "The Girl With Black Hair" (Kana Hanazawa)
Potential spoilers below
Back in mid-May, I reviewed Lu Over the Wall. Months later, I remain pleasantly surprised at its emotion, focused target audience, and musical bounce. The coming-of-age anime film half-marked Japanese director Masaaki Yuasa's return to the big screen since his 2004 cult feature debut Mind Game and following just over a decade of small screen projects. I wrote "half-marks" because Yuasa had directed another movie that got released in Japan one month prior to Lu Over the Wall. I even urged GKIDS to distribute Yuasa's other anime feature before 2018's end.
That film is The Night Is Short, Walk on Girl (henceforth shortened to Night Is Short; see end of review as well) and it could very well go down as one of the best animated films of the 2010s.
A naïve but headstrong and optimistic young woman (Kana Hanazawa), known as "The Girl With Black Hair" (henceforth "Otome", Japanese for "maiden"), goes on a long night on the town. She interacts with an assortment of eccentric characters. Among these is a male classmate (Gen Hoshino) at her university, known only as "Senpai" (Japanese: "senior"). Senpai has long been smitten by Otome. His best efforts at vying for her affections, however, has amounted to just "Operation A.H.O. (Appear Before her Often)", so he intends to confess his feelings to her this night. Given his nerves, clumsiness, and all the characters socializing between them, this night could very well end up feeling like a whole year.
If I take slight issue with anything in Night Is Short, it would involve the brisk character introductions of its opening minutes. Yuasa starts his audience at once with Otome at an evening wedding banquet for presumed acquaintances from school. She gulps one of her first drinks for the night, then expresses slight disappointment when her tablemates, already more buzzed than her, request Bireley's orange soda for the table.
Unbeknownst to Otome, Senpai is already watching her from across the banquet hall. At his table are two school friends who will soon become major supporting players in the story: The first is the School Festival Executive Head (Hiroshi Kamiya), whose good looks and secret crossdressing of female pop culture characters (think cosplaying and Ed Wood rather than The Danish Girl) make legions of his classmates go crazy for him.
That evening, the Executive Head is directing his high-tech and elite campus security guard to investigate and halt the university's evasive theatre troupe. Rumor has it that the troupe will put on scenes from a "guerrilla musical" at seemingly random school festival spots later that evening. Little does the Executive Head know that the book and songs of this guerilla musical are being composed by "Don Underwear" (Ryuji Akiyama), Senpai's other school friend at the table. The hefty Don Underwear has vowed not to change his underwear (hence his self-given moniker) until he reunites with his destined love, whom he may have met at last year's school festival.
Viewers have to retain much of this onslaught of information to comprehend the rest of the anime feature's runtime. Processing the characters and their respective to-do lists for the night as the opening titles began to roll, I was left wondering how the rest of the movie would proceed. By the time the end credits song began playing, however, I was already making comparisons with Sorry to Bother You, writer-director Boots Riley's absurdist comedy from a few months ago. With both Night Is Short and Sorry to Bother You, I question whether or not their characters, subplots, and themes all collapse under their own collective weights. That concern becomes moot when I realize that both films have provided me with two of the most entertaining and thrilling viewing experiences of 2018.
Night Is Short succeeds in pinning down a concrete theme for itself and centering it on the two leads. Otome makes up for her naiveté with an assertive optimism for what lies ahead of her in life and what connects her with the characters she meets, be it alcohol, romance, or sickness. As such, she charges through this night like a saintly train. It certainly helps that Otome can drink alcohol like water, the alcohol evaporating from her system like gentle butterflies as seen in the drinking contest between her and wizened local crime boss Rihaku-san (Mugihito).
Senpai, meanwhile, struggles through this night, losing his pants to Rihaku-san, who does this to hapless male strangers as an habitual prank. Once Senpai sets out for a used books market to retrieve Ratatatam, a cherished childhood book of Otome, he rebounds, first jumping into a contest of eating highly spicy foods in Rihaku-san's black market tent of used books. Later on, he barges into the final scene of Don Underwear's guerilla musical to act and sing alongside Otome, who was cast at the last second. Even after that glorious scene of seemingly improvised musical numbers (and it *is* glorious), Senpai undergoes great anxiety when he learns via text that Otome will soon visit him in the morning to treat his sudden cold. The eight-minute sequence that follows is anime's response to Mother's fifteen-minute "FULL-BLOWN FRENZY/WAR ZONE" sequence from last year (which later made my top 10 scenes of 2017 list). The dreamed battle between Senpai's cowboys of instinct and the scrawny perverts of hesitance escalate to a spectacular animated cacophony of young adult nerves.
As we enter the final third of 2018, I stand holding director Masaaki Yuasa and actor Joaquin Phoenix in towering regard. Phoenix has starred in two movies - You Were Never Really Here and Don't Worry, He Won't Get Far on Foot - and astonishes with his range in both. (He still has The Sisters Brothers ahead of him.) Likewise, Yuasa has directed two compelling anime features in one year with Lu Over the Wall and especially The Night Is Short, Walk on Girl. It will disappoint - no, *infuriate* - me if Phoenix misses out on Best Actor notices and Yuasa on Best Animated Feature notices for either of their dual masterful offerings. I *beseech* the Academy to not overlook these two great artists at the 91st Oscars.
Until then and hopefully long afterwards, we all must move forward a little at a time, cherishing the connections we make along the way.
*The informal Hepburn romanization of the movie's original Japanese title is "Yoru wa Mijikashi Aruke yo Otome", which literally translates to "The Night Is But Short, So Walk on, Maiden" (other international title renderings here).
(Parental Note: The Night Is Short, Walk on Girl has been rated 15 by the BBFC for "strong sex references".)
R.N.B.
Ant-Man and the Wasp (2018)
Entanglements of a Quantum Nature in Ant-Man & the Wasp
(Originally published on the Impacting Culture blog)
"Do you guys just put the word 'quantum' in front of everything?" - Scott Lang/Ant-Man (Paul Rudd) to Bill Foster (Laurence Fishburne), Hank Pym (Michael Douglas), and Hope Van Dyne (Evangeline Lilly)
Potential spoilers below
I had mentioned in the #9 entry (Baby Driver) of my Top 10 Films of 2017 article that the unfortunate departure of writer-director Edgar Wright from the 2015 Disney-Marvel film Ant-Man "still lingers in the minds of some film buffs." Wright had spent a decade on the project with co-writer Joe Cornish. Both ended up stepping down due to creative differences with the studio, settling with a little more than writing and story credits.
Wright went on to make Baby Driver (his biggest commercial success). Meanwhile, Ant-Man's new director Peyton Reed, new writer Adam McKay, and lead star/new co-writer Paul Rudd took the then-latest installment of the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) to fair critical and commercial success in 2015. Ant-Man, as the follow-up to the dense excess of Avengers: Age of Ultron from several months earlier, earned respect for its smaller stakes (i.e., no devastated cities for once) and clever shrinking effects. That said, like Age of Ultron before it and Doctor Strange a year later, its overall plot has demonstrated such paltry memorability, save for its comedic tone and supporting star Michael Peña's manic narrated recountings.
Three years on and the sequel, Ant-Man & the Wasp, serves as the first of two sidequests during the year-long intermission established by Avengers: Infinity War (the second being next March's Captain Marvel). Thankfully, Ant-Man & the Wasp is freed from having to reorient audiences with Ant-Man lore. The superhero blockbuster follow-up, though flawed, benefits from its constrained time setting and multiple antagonists for its heroes.
Scott Lang/Ant-Man (Paul Rudd, also co-writing) is days away from completing the two years of superhero-less house arrest he was forced to serve due to the events of 2016's Captain America: Civil War. Scott does his best on weekends to entertain his young daughter Cassie (an ever-adorable Abby Ryder Fortson). On other days, he manages the struggling security business he has started with ex-cons Luis (an excitable Michael Peña), Dave (Tip "T.I." Harris), and Kurt (David Dastmalchian).
After experiencing a bizarre vision involving a woman, Scott is kidnapped by Hope Van Dyne/Wasp (Evangeline Lilly), who leaves an ant decoy at his house to avoid arousing the suspicion of FBI agent and Scott's overseer Jimmy Woo (Randall Park). The woman in Scott's vision, as it turns out, is Hope's mother Janet Van Dyne (Michelle Pfeiffer). Janet has been trapped in the subatomic quantum realm for the past thirty years. Scott had managed three years earlier (in the first Ant-Man) to enter and exit the quantum realm alive, so Hope and her father, Hank Pym (Michael Douglas), have been developing the machinery to potentially rescue Janet. However, black market dealer Sonny Burch (Walton Goggins) wants Pym and Van Dyne's technology for greater financial gain, while the mysterious Ava Starr/Ghost (an arachnid-like Hannah John-Kamen) seeks the technology to rid herself of a painful molecular instability that allows her to phase through matter. Scott and the father-daughter engineering duo thus embark on a race against time, not just to rescue Janet, but for Scott to avoid jeopardizing his freedom right as he is about to reclaim it.
Ant-Man & the Wasp spares its viewers from excess exposition involving most of its established characters. The first Ant-Man devoted some time to setting the organic sequel path of saving Janet Van Dyne from the quantum realm. Here, that setup culminates in some of the script's more clever moments, including a most amusing scene in which Janet possesses Scott in front of Hope and Hank. It would not surprise me if director Reed and co. had Ms. Pfeiffer perform the scene first so that Rudd could match her. Elsewhere, a scene shared by Burch, his goons, and the truth serum ("It's not truth serum!")-injected Luis, Dave, and Kurt entertains in explaining both the origin of Scott and Luis' friendship as well as how Scott became involved in the events of 2016's Civil War.
Beyond its impressive and dependable shrinking effects, two of Ant-Man & the Wasp's additional strengths include its constrained time setting and its trio of opposing parties - Sonny Burch, Eva/Ghost, and Jimmy Woo. The few days remaining for Scott's house arrest keeps audiences aware of Agent Woo. At the same time, the uncertain handful of days remaining until Eva/Ghost dies from her molecular instability pushes her harder to steal Pym and Van Dyne's precious technology. Thus, she becomes a more formidable antagonist, even with her heavy backstory and a thankless turn by Laurence Fishburne as Pym's estranged research partner turned Eva/Ghost's mentor. (Interestingly, Ms. John-Kamen appeared in Ready Player One and both she and Goggins in Tomb Raider from earlier this year.) These dire circumstances are perhaps why Burch and his goons (including Divian Ladwa of 2016's Lion fame) feel the least intimidating of the three opposing parties. It was wise for the writers to offset this by giving them an early serious scene and funnier reappearances later.
Most will agree that Ant-Man & the Wasp will forever lie in the shadow of Avengers: Infinity War and Black Panther in terms of the MCU in 2018. Still, it leaves me content that a relatively light and non-origin comedic diversion, like Ant-Man & the Wasp, was just fun enough for the moment. I can forgive it for its blockbuster conveniences and for not leaving as indelible an impression as its fellow MCU installments. By electing, not for another corporate/world dominator, but for four character parties whose goals generate friction in a comedic playground lasting only one week, Ant-Man & the Wasp merits such clemency.
And so the ant drums on...
(Parental Note: Ant-Man & the Wasp has been rated PG-13 by the MPAA "for some sci-fi action/violence". It has also been rated 12A by the BBFC for "moderate violence", and rated A-III (Adults) by the Catholic News Service for containing "much stylized violence, acceptability of divorce, a couple of uses each of profane, crude and crass language, several milder oaths, and occasional wordplay.")
(P.S. Keep an eye out for the obligatory Stan Lee cameo, a mid-credits scene, and a post-credits scene.)
R.N.B.
Life (2017)
Life: A Monster House...in Space!
(Originally published on the Impacting Culture blog)
With the Alien franchise delivering a new installment in a few months and just a few years removed from the emotional and visual roller-coaster that was 2013's Gravity, I felt positive about this new ensemble sci-fi thriller directed by Swedish director Daniel Espinosa (Safe House, Child 44). It boasts an international ensemble cast, which includes Ryan Reynolds reuniting with his Deadpool screenwriters Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick, and forecast its arrival with memorable trailers - many centering on the moment where the cute little alien creature turns on the scientist studying it while his crewmates watch. Either a thrilling b-movie or a compact, ambitious, and intelligent sci-fi thriller could result from this venture. Having now experienced Life (the film, not my own), what irks me and will irk me for some time is that the film tries to be both and barely manages to be tolerable.
Set in the present day, Life follows a six-member, multinational crew currently inhabiting the International Space Station, tasked with retrieving a returning capsule from Mars and examining the soil samples contained within while in Earth orbit. British biologist Dr. Hugh Derry (Ariyon Bakare) manages to extract a dormant, single-celled organism from one of the samples and revive it, much to the delight of his crewmates. The organism matures in a short amount of time into a multi-celled, stimulus-sensitive organism that quarantine officer Dr. Miranda North (Rebecca Ferguson) notes is "all muscle, all brain, and all eye." The schoolchildren of America, monitoring the mission from the surface, decide to call the organism "Calvin". Several days later, when an atmospheric accident in the lab causes Calvin - now a palm-sized, fluorescent, flower-shaped creature - to become dormant once again, Dr. Derry suggests prodding Calvin with a mild electric shock. The rest of the crew - Russian Commander Katerina Golovkina (Olga Dihovnichaya), American medical officer Dr. David Jordan (Jake Gyllenhaal), Japanese engineer Sho Murakami (Hiroyuki Sanada), and cocky American pilot Rory "Roy" Adams (Ryan Reynolds) watch from the opposite side of the glass as Dr. Derry inserts his hands into the protective gloves stretching into the quarantine cage and begins to re-animate Calvin with the electric shocks.
What follows is every astronaut's nightmare - a slaughterhouse in space, where there's nowhere to escape, a lifeless void separates them from potential rescue, and much of the crew's time and mental power is spent early on trying to also keep the expensive house intact if possible.
From the trailers, one can grasp a modern-day mashup of both Alien, the 1979 sci-fi horror film by director Ridley Scott, and Gravity, the 2013 space thriller from director Alfonso Cuarón, with the multinational crew from director Danny Boyle's 2007 film Sunshine tossed in as well (Japanese actor Hiroyuki Sanada appears in both Sunshine and this). The opening sequence in which the crew scrambles to secure the approaching Mars capsule that has sustained small asteroid hits during its transit certainly emulates the opening to Cuarón's film with its smooth long-take approach and well-choreographed blocking of actors. From there, the story coasts through the first month of their orbital mission, until Calvin's decisive electric shock treatment.
About the time that the shock treatment leads Calvin to turn against the crew, I start to sense that director Espinosa has yet to fully deliver the dramatic thrills necessary for me to become invested in the ensemble's plight. The rest of the film, outside of the opening capsule retrieval sequence, offers close camerawork and editing that generates a fast pace, unlike the spacious environments and ominous, patient progression of Alien. This fast pace, furthermore, limits drastically the screentime for the proper fleshing out of the individual crew members, especially when one can tell who's most likely to survive the end of the film based on star power (or a promotional image, like the one above). Compare that to Gravity, which centers almost entirely on Sandra Bullock's character.
The problem ultimately lies with the rudimentary treatment of the characters, many of whom I barely remember upon leaving theater aside from some basic details, the manners of dying, and who survives. Life attempts to bring together a patiently layered ensemble showcase with what's basically a one-woman show, not to mention a complex horror think-piece that hides the monster instead of showing it (like in this film) with a simple journey of getting from A to B that bolsters incredible technical craft. Even for a skillful director, it's almost impossible to marry the approaches to those two types of stories without compromising on character development.
The instinctive reaction to fall back on older films suggests another central flaw of Life - it falls short in offering anything original and memorable. As a sci-fi thriller, it meets modest ambitions by evoking other cinematic sci-fi landmarks and little else, and audiences are mostly just along for the ride, rarely treated to a thorough build-up of tension, much less fear, when registering the characters' choices. It comes off as forced and unimpressive when the end of act two, deus ex machina moment of rest for the surviving crew members gravitates around a children's nighttime story and not a meditation on fate, purpose, and perhaps God's hand in their eventual demise. The sole displays of power in this film are the gruesome, bloody, traumatic deaths - the kind common in a tired slasher film, which alone says enough.
What, then, is Life? Life reminds filmmakers and audiences that they'll need more than just the concept to create a truly horrifying work of cinematic sci-fi, even though the concept tends to deliver a competent work anyway. Competency, however, can only last so long and one can guess that director Daniel Espinosa and company would've preferred not only the commercial success (having amassed only half of its production budget in its opening weekend worldwide box office), but the lasting legacy that will most likely elude this film by 2017's end.
R.N.B.
Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Ever Just the Same, Barely a Surprise in Beauty & the Beast
Reviewing films like this remake of Disney's 1991 animated classic tends to frustrate me as a film critic who desires for films to stand as apart as possible while also cementing a unique footprint within all of cinema. That's a tough outlook, especially since the success of 2010's Alice in Wonderland and later releases Maleficent, Cinderella, and The Jungle Book has led Disney's live-action side to settle into a financial comfort zone of remaking classic films while setting artistic risk aside. I find it almost impossible to appraise these remakes without comparing them to their earlier (and demonstrably superior) animated iterations. Such is the case with director Bill Condon's live-action Beauty & the Beast, whose original 1991 animated film became the first ever animated nominee for the Academy Award for Best Picture - already an insurmountable bar for this live-action remake.
As with the 1991 animated version, the opening voice-over recounts a spoiled and selfish French prince (Dan Stevens) and the servants of his decadent castle who fall victim to the curse of an enchantress seeking shelter with only a rose as her payment. She turns the prince into a hideous beast, his servants into various household objects, and sets the fall of her rose's last petal as the deadline for the Beast to love and be loved in return or otherwise be cursed forever.
Years later, an inventor from the nearby village of Villeneuve named Maurice (Kevin Kline) gets lost and chased by wolves in the surrounding forest, before finding shelter in the castle. He then enrages the Beast when trying to pluck a rose from the garden for his headstrong and bookish daughter, Belle (Emma Watson). Belle desires a life beyond the boundaries of Villeneuve and away from the shallow affections of Gaston (Luke Evans), the village's narcissistic hunter. Belle manages to find her father and offers to replace him as the Beast's prisoner. The Beast warns her that she will live with him in the castle forever, which she accepts.
Belle initially views the cursed prince as nothing more than the beast that he is, while the Beast finds her too stubborn to respect. Yet, with the help of his servants - the charismatic Lumiere (Ewan McGregor), the strict Cogsworth (Ian McKellen), and the considerate Mrs. Potts (Emma Thompson) among them - she starts to warm to the Beast's cold-hearted exterior. Still, it's only a matter of time until either the drop of the last petal or for the persistent Gaston to threaten to have Maurice committed to the asylum if Belle refuses to marry him.
To start, this live-action remake clocks in at 129 minutes - about a half-hour longer than the animated film. Many over the years have noted the plot holes of the Disney adaptation such as the enchantress cursing the prince as a ten-year-old, the villagers' poor memory on the fate of the nearby castle, and the time Belle actually spends in the castle growing close to the Beast versus the struggle between her father and Gaston with the rest of the villagers. The animated film's shorter runtime and effortless pacing lacks the room for audiences to fully ponder over such story flaws during the viewing, but with the extra half-hour, the remake gives me that space to wonder about those plot holes.
Concerns about the narrative mistakes aren't remedied by most of the film and its retread of 1991, which tends to coast from song to song at the cost of the drama in between the music. From the lively "Belle", the glorious "Gaston", the uproarious "Be Our Guest", and the moving and magical title song, the existing (and heavily nostalgic) Alan Menken-composed and Howard Ashman-penned soundtrack remains fun to sing. Yet the songs still don't match the punch of 1991, especially with newly added instrumental breaks that pause the song (and the film) for the visual effects crew to momentarily grab the spotlight.
Of the actors, Luke Evans visibly commits to his portrayal of Gaston, despite lacking 1991's obvious brawn and the deep singing voice. Emma Watson as Belle takes some time to fully grow into her character (about the time when she makes a small squeal at the sight of the Beast's library), and even then she doesn't make the caring and brave character all her own, especially with her merely solid pipes. Dan Stevens' performance of the original song "Evermore" (lyrics by Tim Rice) serves as the rightful peak of his adequate screen time as the Beast. The household objects always feel physically present, even though Ewan McGregor (Lumiere) is no Jerry Orbach and Emma Thompson (Mrs. Potts) is no Angela Lansbury.
And then there's Josh Gad as LeFou.
I largely ignored, as with most news about the revelations of a character before a film's release, the Bill Condon's interviews that revealed that Josh Gad's LeFou will display same-sex attraction in the film. Upon seeing the film, I knew the performance certainly didn't meet the bar set by the controversy while providing some material for discussion. Jesse Corti's 1991 voice performance as LeFou perfectly captured the sidekick's loyal but pushover personality; however, Josh Gad as LeFou spends much of his screen time flashing piercing and longing looks at his friend of many years. Among several specific moments, LeFou remarks, "It ain't gonna happen," to the various Gaston-fixated village women, and when Gaston wonders why his friend hasn't met a woman yet, LeFou replies that others find his "clingy" attitude as an obstacle. Gaston never reciprocates such affections, which does limit what LeFou can express in the film, but any knowledge of director Bill Condon's interviews will frame LeFou's screen time in a needlessly sexualized context and will overshadow this film for some time.
Past Disney remakes saw me leaving the theater with, at most, a feeling of vague satisfaction towards a lavish, but cinematically bland exercise - similar to repackaging over-performed greatest hits as new singles - but this controversy cements my overall underwhelming impression of this remake. I rank the 1991 film among the top five of the Walt Disney Animation Studios canon, so translating it to live action does little to stain my enjoyment of the material and my resulting star rating. Yet as I consider Beauty & the Beast's week-old cultural presence and study Disney's upcoming queue of live-action remakes, there exists in me a longing for the studio to instead use its resources for something bolder, riskier, newer - "something there that wasn't there before."
R.N.B.
Eighth Grade (2018)
Young Teens & Bright Screens Flock Awkwardly in Eighth Grade
Hey, guys! It's Renard, back with another review.
Um...
"Oh my gosh, look at that fluffy unicorn! He's so fluffy I'm gonna die!" Thus spoke youngest sister Agnes from the 2010 animated comedy Despicable Me, winning the hearts of viewers across the world. Now, eight years later, Agnes' voice actress Elsie Fisher gets her first live action star role in Eighth Grade, the writing-directing feature debut of the young yet seasoned entertainer Bo Burnham. Burnham complements his exaggerated yet nevertheless first-hand knowledge of his story's subject matter with technical crafts that surprise in their modest precision and comedic timing.
One week of eighth grade stands between thirteen-year-old Kayla Day (Elsie Fisher) and starting her social life afresh in high school. Kayla has long struggled to make friends at school, while the motivational videos she posts on YouTube receive little to no attention. Kayla shares a remote connection with her single father Mark (Josh Hamilton), who proves no match against the bright screen of her phone and social media. Between a pool party hosted by popular yet vapid classmate Kennedy Graves (Catherine Oliviere), trying to catch the eye of her scrawny and steely-eyed crush, Aiden (Luke Prael), and impressing high school senior Olivia (Emily Robinson) during a high school shadow program, Kayla still hopes to make this last week the start of a brighter future.
Audiences will take note at once of Eighth Grade's forest of mobile screens and many empty "likes", "totallys", and other filler words that have become all too common in the up-and-coming social culture. To put a sharp lens on this isolated environment, writer-director Burnham, cinematographer Andrew Wehde, and editor Jennifer Lilly lock onto Kayla and her immediate surroundings. Kayla participates in the attention-seeking, electronic, and social media-centered routine of her peers, clinging to it while also aware that it has yet to benefit her like it seems to have done for everyone else. Ms. Fisher, undeterred by social interaction in real life, commits to the role of Kayla beautifully.
No one likes an awkward moment, and all of the adults featured - save for perhaps Kennedy Graves' kind mother (Missy Yager) - manage to surpass the teenaged characters in their awkwardness. It would not surprise me if Burnham devoted little to no rehearsal time with the adult actors, to keep them as unpolished as possible and with constant misplaced and embarrassing confidence in the eyes of teenagers. (*pause for lit dabbing attempt*) No adult here is more awkward than Kayla's single father. Despite having even less of a spine than Ron Livingston's Drew from Tully, Josh Hamilton's Mark does his best to relish the pride he has for his daughter, even if she feels that her failings so far in life have outnumbered her successes.
Between Eighth Grade and Lu Over the Wall from a few months ago, 2018 has succeeded like no other year I can remember in offering a candid and sympathetic mirror for those still looking forward to high school and beyond. Eighth Grade in particular returned me to a moment in junior high at Holy Family School in Seattle when, sitting in the back of the class during a lesson, I could see all of my classmates texting each other underneath their desks. (That was the post-Motorola Razr, pre-iPhone era of mobile devices.) Whereas last year's Lady Bird powered through high school senior year and left viewers at peace by the end, Eighth Grade reminds its audience of a less stable time growing up - a time when what we all needed the most was the reassurance that we were going to be okay. Given the R-rating of writer-director Bo Burnham's dramedy, it appears that many adults today desire that same reassurance. No film can substitute for a human or divine relationship, but for now, Eighth Grade can and does suffice in helping one look forward to the person they will become.
I can't wait!
(Parental Note: Eighth Grade has been rated R by the MPAA "for language and some sexual material".)
R.N.B.
Mile 22 (2018)
Coarse & Condensed Action Thrills in Mile 22
(Originally published on the Impacting Culture blog)
"A battlefield could be a room with two people in it. That's chaos. That's fog." - Overwatch Agent James Silva (Mark Wahlberg) to an unknown journalist
Potential spoilers below
In the crowded last third of the 2016 movie season, audiences had the opportunity to experience a riveting double offering from director Peter Berg. The first was Deepwater Horizon, which dramatized the real-life explosion at the eponymous Gulf of Mexico drilling rig that resulted in the worst oil disaster in U.S. history. The second was Patriots Day, which dramatized the tragic 2013 Boston Marathon bombing and the urgent week-long investigation and manhunt that followed.
Both films disappointed commercially, their worldwide box office receipts just surpassing their production budgets. On the other hand, critics received Berg's two 2017 offerings with general praise. Deepwater Horizon even managed to earn Sound Editing and Visual Effects Oscar nominations.
These two movies, in addition to 2013's Lone Survivor, saw Peter Berg collaborating with actor Mark Wahlberg. That filmmaker-actor duo hits their first snag with their fourth outing, the action thriller Mile 22. Supporting star and pencak silat martial artist Iko Uwais makes the best of his screentime, though not enough to overcome baffling editing choices and unrefined acting turns from his fellow cast members.
CIA black operations agent James Silva (Mark Wahlberg, edging on hypertension) leads Overwatch, a small but formidable U.S. paramilitary team tasked with missions of utmost secrecy and danger. Five shipments of highly toxic cesium exists at one or multiple unknown locations, and the information regarding these locations has been stored in a disc, surrendered at a U.S. embassy in Southeast Asia by Indonesian police officer Li Noor (Iko Uwais). Noor, a covert asset of Silva's fellow Overwatch comrade Alice Kerr (Lauren Cohan), demands immediate passage out of the country and warns that the disc is slowly destroying itself and will become useless in several hours. Under the remote supervision of James Bishop (John Malkovich) and with an unknown host of foreign police, military, and street gangs armed and waiting for them along the way, Silva and his Overwatch team (including Ronda Rousey and Carlo Alban) must race 22 miles to the nearest airfield for Noor's extraction, access to the self-destroying disc, and hopefully saving countless lives in the process.
Movies like Mile 22 are why I re-watch new releases for long reviews such as this. Initial reactions benefit from confirmation and vindication. Both times I watched this fourth Berg/Wahlberg collaboration, I left the theater with a strange mix of contentment, confusion, and indifference.
To start, one must know going in that Peter Berg's non-family friendly action thriller deals with the moral gray area of state-sponsored black operations. "A government is capable of vengeance. A government is capable of slaughter," Silva tells a shadowy journalist. Silva insists and affirms how governments across the globe have generated a "fog" in weaponizing the spread of information as well as advancing technology for efficient killing. Silva snidely reminds Alice, shortly before commencing the airport escort of Li Noor, how the consolation of religion contradicts the violence that will forever mark their past. ("Thou shalt not kill," yet the government desensitizes such agents to killing in the name of national security.) Death has become the only "normal" thing left to anticipate for highly trained operatives like them.
This attitude and cinematic vision towards government espionage was popularized by the Matt Damon-starring Bourne franchise that emerged in the early 2000s. Two hallmarks of that franchise as it progressed included shaky camerawork and heavy cutting to "enhance" the real stunt work on display. However, those franchise traits opened an action genre Pandora's box, giving imitators license to cut costs via paltry stunt and fight coordination, murky cinematography, and incomprehensible editing.
Mile 22 has received much flack for the efforts of editors Melissa Lawson Cheung and Colby Parker, Jr., Peter Berg's go-to editor since 2004's Friday Night Lights. I will admit, after two viewings, that I never truly got lost in the action sequences because of the editing. Instead, it disappointed me that Berg, Cheung, and Parker chose to not capture the full glory of Clay Cullen and Jhon Morales' stunt coordination and Ryan Watson's fight coordination (with Uwais' valuable input). Why cut instead of linger? Why elect to not show us the action rather than actually showing it? Why do many western action filmmakers fail time and again to recognize that the immense fan admiration for the Uwais-starring Raid films (in 2011 and 2014) comes from how those films revel in showing their action?
The acting, while not egregious, comes off as though Peter Berg pulled a Clint Eastwood and settled for as few takes as possible. Under Martin Scorsese's patient direction on the set of 2006's The Departed, an amusingly derisive Mark Wahlberg garnered a Best Supporting Actor Oscar nomination. Under Berg's direction in Mile 22, Wahlberg takes on little of Silva's mental instability as indicated by the opening titles. Instead, Wahlberg resorts to becoming a bossy jerk who uses a wristband to snap himself into focus. Lauren Cohan gets some backstory as a divorced mother fighting against her ex-husband to bond with their daughter, but she overdoes it when she destroys her mobile device after a heated video call. Finally, while Randa Rousey is fine in quieter scenes, Lea Carpenter's script (from a story by her and Graham Roland) then has her rudely talking down her less prominent comrades and computer analysts.
Given Mile 22's low box office returns so far, Berg and Wahlberg might lose the chance to further the story of Silva and Overwatch. Should a sequel remain in the works, it is best that they overcome at once the editing and acting mistakes made by them and their fellow crew members here. Cinema does not need another slice of cake needlessly swiped off a café table.
(Parental Note: Mile 22 has been rated R by the MPAA "for strong violence and language throughout". It has also been rated L (Limited adult audience) by the Catholic News Service for containing "pervasive gun and physical violence, some gore, and frequent profanities.")
R.N.B.
Mission: Impossible - Fallout (2018)
Tom Cruise is Unstoppable in Mission: Impossible - Fallout
(Originally published on the Impacting Culture blog)
"There has never been peace without first a great suffering. The greater the suffering, the greater the peace." - Opening to "The Apostles' Manifesto", composed by John Lark (?????)
Potential spoilers below
Writer-director Christopher McQuarrie has uninstalled the revolving door of directors for the Mission: Impossible (M:I) franchise...
...and delivered, in terms of pure action, perhaps the best Mission: Impossible installment to date.
McQuarrie's screenplay for M:I - Fallout (hereafter referred to as just Fallout), on the other hand, is a step down from his last one, and no action, however masterfully crafted, can distract from that.
Two years have passed since Ethan Hunt (Tom Cruise) of the United States' Impossible Missions Force (IMF) captured former British agent turned anarchic terrorist Solomon Lane (Sean Harris). The remnants of Lane's group The Syndicate have reformed into The Apostles. Hunt and fellow IMF agents Benji Dunn (Simon Pegg) and Luther Stickell (Ving Rhames) fail to prevent The Apostles from obtaining three precious plutonium cores that their new client, the mysterious John Lark (?????), could turn into three portable nuclear weapons.
IMF Secretary Alan Hunley (Alec Baldwin) tasks Hunt to impersonate Lark, who has arranged to obtain the cores from The Apostles in Paris, with black market arms dealer Alanna Mitsopolis/White Widow (Vanessa Kirby) acting as broker. To ensure that Hunt does not fail, CIA Director Erica Sloane (Angela Bassett) dispatches Special Activities operative August Walker (Henry Cavill) to stick close to Hunt. Once Hunt meets the White Widow, she agrees to hand over all three cores in exchange for one favor: Hunt must break Solomon Lane free so that she can return him to The Apostles.
Now if only British MI6 agent and past ally Ilsa Faust (Rebecca Ferguson) did not have orders to kill Lane at the same time.
One cannot discuss Fallout without first bringing up its fantastic and heart-pumping action sequences. The near-perilous HALO jump into Paris, the high-speed chase through Parisian streets the next day, and the insane helicopter chase towards Fallout's end all benefit the most from Eddie Hamilton's restrained cutting of Rob Hardy's cinematography and the intense sound mixing by Gilbert Lake and Mike Prestwood Smith. (Rob Hardy also shot Annihilation from earlier this year.) The bathroom brawl showcases Cruise, Cavill, and stuntman Liang Yang's commitment to Wade Eastwood's peerless stunt coordination and Wolfgang Stegemann's fight coordination. As the sixth entry in a franchise that has so far eluded Academy recognition, Fallout stares intently at each of the Academy's below-the-line-related branches and states plainly but firmly, "Nominate me. Now."
I mentioned in my Incredibles 2 review from earlier this year that I had begun to regard that animated film "less as a stellar follow-up and more like a stellar appendix" to its 2004 predecessor. In light of 2015's Rogue Nation, I have a similar regard for Fallout. Nearly all of Rogue Nation consists of Hunt, his IMF colleagues, and newcomer Ilsa Faust reacting to a situation beyond their control and working tirelessly to prove their innocence against Solomon Lane's treachery, with the audience right behind them throughout. Thanks to Christopher McQuarrie's screenplay and direction, Rogue Nation harnessed its genuine and well-paced suspense and ferocious wit to earn its satisfying finale.
Fallout, as a more direct sequel to Rogue Nation, starts with Hunt receiving his next mission as usual and failing it due to "good intentions". He and his team must then resume the mission, improvising where needed, and all while cleaning up the mess with CIA's star Agent Walker watching over their shoulders. In between Fallout's spectacular action sequences, the twists blow minds and the handful of conflicting interests among the characters give off the appearance of a complex action spy thriller. Yet upon reflection, these plot elements, which come to a head during Fallout's London bunker sequence, make writer-director McQuarrie's second M:I contribution more muddled than necessary, bordering on implausibility. Furthermore, even the most casual viewer will never doubt the heroism of Tom Cruise as Ethan Hunt. This is Mission: Impossible, not Collateral, and ingredients like a plan to massacre French cops cannot simply get brushed aside.
My first viewing of Fallout left me as excited as anyone else by its enthralling and relentless action. In that respect, Fallout is the best Mission: Impossible movie and Christopher McQuarrie embraces his deepest directorial instincts to reach creative heights yet unattained. Likewise, Tom Cruise continues to cement his action star legacy, even as he approaches 60.
Upon leaving my re-watch, however, I could no longer shrug off Fallout's confusing web of espionage double-crossings. Complexity has its place, but so does clarity. Rogue Nation had clarity and the wit to help its intricacies reach the minds of audiences, as did the first Mission: Impossible from 1996 and the fourth film Ghost Protocol from 2011. I wish that some of the clarity that so gorgeously marks Fallout's exceptional action sequences had rubbed off on its plot.
Still working on it? A bit too late for that.
(Parental Note: Mission: Impossible - Fallout has been rated PG-13 by the MPAA "for violence and intense sequences of action, and for brief strong language". It has also been rated 12A by the BBFC for "moderate violence, injury detail," and "infrequent strong language", and rated A-III (Adults) by the Catholic News Service for containing "much violence with some gore and gruesome images, acceptability of divorce, a couple of uses of profanity, two milder oaths as well as a single rough and several crude terms.")
P.S. After all was said and done, keeping the mustache was worth it.
R.N.B.
Logan (2017)
Mutant Sendoffs in Logan
(Originally published on the Impacting Culture blog)
Many have credited 2000's X-Men for spearheading the second generation of comic book cinema that has largely taken over the entertainment industry today. Moviegoers acquainted themselves with other comic book properties arriving on the big screen while also making successful the eight succeeding X-Men installments. Then, when stars Hugh Jackman and Patrick Stewart declared that this year's Logan (inspired by the 2008 graphic novel Old Man Logan) would be the last time they each would portray the popular Marvel X-Men mutants Wolverine and Charles Xavier respectively, the hype for the film increased ten-fold - something 20th Century Fox likely appreciated, since 2016's Deadpool hogged all the success and X-Men: Apocalypse fell short of expectations. The result? Well, when the film begins with an F-word, ends with a somewhat sacrilegious final shot, and comes short in building up to a satisfying farewell for two popular actors playing two popular fictional characters, I am left wondering whether it was the Jackman-Stewart mutant swan song writer-director James Mangold and company had hoped to deliver.
The year is 2029 and the lack of new mutants born in the past 25 years have made mutants endangered. James "Logan" Howlett (Hugh Jackman, in his ninth and last appearance as the character), formerly known as Wolverine, goes about minding his quiet job as a limousine chauffeur around the southern U.S. border. Logan lives with tracking mutant Caliban (Stephen Merchant) in a decrepit smelting plant just past the border in Mexico. There, he and Caliban care for a senile Charles Xavier (Patrick Stewart, also playing the character one last time), formerly known as Professor X, whose mental instability leads to seizures that wreak devastation - a scenario Logan helps prevent by hustling for prescription drugs.
One day, Logan happens upon Gabriela (Elizabeth Rodriguez), a nurse from a powerful biotechnological corporation, who begs Logan to chaperone an eleven-year-old girl named Laura (newcomer Dafne Keen). Laura, known as "X-23", was one of a group of mutant children bred by the corporation as weapons, then deemed disposable once X-24 became the successful clone. Gabriela took Laura and helped free the other children before the corporation could terminate them. Now she begs Logan - who is actually Laura's biological father - to see that Laura makes it to "Eden", a mutant sanctuary in North Dakota, without falling into the clutches of Donald Pierce (Boyd Holbrook), the corporation's enhanced security chief, who tried coaxing Logan into bringing him Laura. When Gabriela is suddenly found dead, Logan hastily takes Charles and Laura with him, fighting their way through Pierce's widespread detail and embarking on a long road trip north, while Pierce and his crew force the unlucky Caliban to track them. From there, it becomes a matter of whether Logan, Charles, and Laura can race to safety in time and with their lives, if that safety for mutants even exists at all.
Logan is a formidable superhero drama, easily one of the best of the X-Men franchise and even the superhero subgenre in general. Jackman and Stewart have spent the past seventeen years perfecting their iterations of the iconic Marvel mutants. Many have identified their faces with the characters to the extent that many wonder if any other actor could replace them. That Logan showcases both Jackman and Stewart's final appearances as their respective mutants makes it worthwhile. Also worthwhile is Dafne Keen in her feature-film debut as Laura/X-23. Ms. Keen demonstrates a strong physical and facial commitment, despite acting mute for much of the runtime, to her budding mutant character who can barely resist lashing out like a diminutive killing machine.
However, much of my appreciation for writer-director James Mangold's finished product starts to recede from there. Hugh Jackman reportedly took a cut in pay to ensure the film's R-rating, and while the generous addition of blood certainly matches up to that rating, the laced profanity throughout feels unnatural and forced at times. Meanwhile, the villains are rather unengaging and forgettable, from the leaders (Boyd Holbrook and later Richard E. Grant as Dr. Zander Rice of the same biotechnological corporation) coming off as typical villain stereotypes to their underlings functioning as mere bullet-and-blade targets for both Logan and the surprisingly vicious Laura.
The weakness of the villains hints at what really keeps Logan from being "the next Dark Knight," as many fans and even professional critics have already declared. Jackman and Stewart's franchise swan-song performances are commendable, but they do not reach the heights of Heath Ledger's Joker back in 2008. A key disconnect lies between the inner, age-related regrets of Logan and Charles and all the typical X-Men chaos taking place outside of those regrets. The villains have little regard for such turmoil; they just want the mutants caged and studied, like in most other X-Men franchise installments. A bolder narrative would have both heroes and villains reflecting on approaching possibly the post-mutant era of humanity. Instead, this story amounts to a bleak road trip in which our heroes escort a special passenger to a safe place and protect that passenger from the formidable, organized antagonists, with gratuitous amounts of blood and severed limbs incorporated to satisfy its R-rating.
In a sense, then, I cannot help but feel disappointed in the overall product. Last year's X-Men Apocalypse failed to excite overall, but at least there the fun, the engaging, and the clumsy never mingled and fused together into a bland stew. Logan banked on the emotional sendoff for its lead actors and while it mostly succeeds in that regard, most other elements seemed to run parallel with that intention, thus coming off as solid but unspectacular action storytelling. Yes, the action sequences have a worthwhile, if immensely bloody and profane (and certainly not family friendly), punch to them, but for the overall product as a teary-eyed farewell, Logan should have been more. Instead of drying my eyes as I waved goodbye, I found myself shrugging and remarking, "Well, it was fun while it lasted," before rejoining 2017 in cinema as it inched forward, anticipating that annual push of the summer blockbuster season.
R.N.B.
Christopher Robin (2018)
Christopher Robin: An Adorable Little "Expotition"
(Originally published on the Impacting Culture blog)
"People say nothing is impossible, but I do nothing every day." - Winnie the Pooh (voiced by Jim Cummings) to Christopher Robin (Ewan McGregor)
Potential spoilers below
"Gotta get up / I gotta get goin' / I'm gonna see a friend of mine..."
I first encountered Winnie the Pooh, the famous anthropomorphic teddy bear created by author A.A. Milne and first illustrated by E.H. Shepard, through reruns of the Disney Saturday morning cartoon The New Adventures of Winnie the Pooh. That show became a staple of my early childhood. Nostalgia for the lovable teddy bear grew when, in 2011, Disney released a Winnie the Pooh theatrical feature. The 63-minute film featured gorgeous hand-drawn animation and songs by Zooey Deschanel (working with frequent collaborator M. Ward) and future Frozen composers Kristen Anderson-Lopez and Robert Lopez. On the downside, it still frustrates me that Disney chose to release Winnie the Pooh the same weekend as the last Harry Potter movie, stunting its commercial success and effectively ending all hope for a traditional animation resurgence at Disney.
As such, the live-action continuation Christopher Robin strikes me as an odd new direction for Disney's Winnie the Pooh franchise. The endearing toy animals are animated and voiced well in a live-action environment and Ewan McGregor provides a sturdy presence with his past experience in nostalgia-centered projects. The compressed and slightly under-rousing plot, however, hint at a certain apprehension from the Mouse House powers that be.
Not the best first step for Disney if they plan to further this franchise and recover from their 2011 stumble.
Christopher Robin (Ewan McGregor) has come a long way from his adventures in the Hundred Acre Wood. Now a family man, the demands of Robin's job as the efficiency manager at Winslow Luggages in London have led him to neglect his wife Evelyn (Hayley Atwood) and his studious yet somewhat sheltered daughter Madeline (Bronte Carmichael). Robin's boss, Giles Winslow, Jr. (Mark Gatiss, detestably smug), tasks him to coordinate substantial company cutbacks over the weekend. Robin has no choice but to miss a much-needed family outing to the countryside cottage of his youth before Madeline begins school.
The last thing Christopher Robin expects while inundated with work is a surprise visit from Winnie the Pooh (voiced by Jim Cummings), his stuffed teddy bear and childhood pal. Much less is Robin expecting to escort Pooh back to scour the now-gray and foggy Hundred Acre Wood for fellow friends Tigger (also voiced by Cummings), Eeyore (voiced by Brad Garrett), Owl (voiced by Toby Jones), Piglett (voiced by Nick Mohammed), Rabbit (voiced by Peter Capaldi), Kanga (voiced by Sophie Okonedo), and Roo (voiced by Sara Sheen).
"What to do, what to do, what to do?" sighs Christopher Robin, slumping onto a bench in the small park outside his house.
"What to do, indeed."
And there he is. Silly old bear.
For what it is, Christopher Robin is a compact fantasy dramedy, ideal for a family taking it easy on a Sunday afternoon. Visual effects supervisor Chris Lawrence and animation supervisor Michael Eames harness the latest technologies to honor the old by combining the current Disney designs of the Hundred Acre Woods characters (dating back to the Slesinger ownership era) with those in the Shepard illustrations. Of course, the voices make or break the characters and everyone here fits, with Jim Cummings continuing his full-time tenure as both Pooh and Tigger. Drawing the most laughs here is Brad Garrett's turn as Eeyore ("Help me."). Garrett is a natural at voicing the depressive stuffed donkey, even though he had only voiced him twice before in late '90s computer programs. (Veteran animator Bud Luckey, who voiced Eeyore in the 2011 film, passed away this past February. Gregg Berger remains Eeyore's voice in video games. Peter Cullen, who has voiced the donkey since 1988, will cameo as Eeyore in the upcoming Ralph Breaks the Internet while focusing on voicing Optimus Prime, whom he has voiced since 1984, in the upcoming Bumblebee.)
Between this, last year's T2 Trainspotting (see previous mentions here), Big Fish, Moulin Rouge!, and playing Obi-Wan Kenobi in the Star Wars prequels, Ewan McGregor seems to have cornered the market lately in terms of big-screen projects involving nostalgia. The Scottish actor is no child in a man's body, yet he conveys so well that reluctance of letting go and moving on from juvenile recreations and reveries. McGregor's rendition of Christopher Robin makes great use of this talent, despite the role's underdeveloped execution, the script's reliance on McGregor to prop up a condensed second act in the Hundred Acre Wood and a hasty third act back in London, and the limited opportunities for McGregor to interact with Hayley Atwell's Evelyn. Atwell's application of a caustic attitude toward a workaholic husband is the one pinch of spice in her standard dutiful wife role.
If Disney seeks to return to the grounded innocence of the Milne's original works, then I am all for it. Disney will have to deliver more than this heartfelt, compact, yet safe adventure next time around, though. I doubt a new small-screen series can do what revisiting a past completed series already can. Therefore, Disney ought to use their abundant means to catch up and match the recent live action Paddington movies-that is, if the Mouse House wants audiences to see more of Christopher Robin, Winnie the Pooh, and their friends in a live-action setting.
God forbid this intended reunion ends up leading to an even longer screen exile from the Hundred Acre Wood.
(Parental Note: Christopher Robin has been rated PG by the MPAA "for some action". It has also been rated PG by the BBFC for "mild threat" and "brief war violence", and rated A-II (Adults and adolescents) by the Catholic News Service for containing "a mature story line and nonviolent action.")
P.S. Be sure to stay for the mid-credits beach scene, which features a piano ditty by the venerable Richard M. Sherman.
R.N.B.
BlacKkKlansman (2018)
Undercover Shenanigans to Combat Racism in BlacKkKlansman
"With the right white man, we can do anything." - Ron Stallworth (John David Washington) to Chief Bridges (Robert John Burke)
Potential spoilers below
The piano and wails of the late musician Prince in his 1983 cover of "Mary Don't You Weep" play over the credits to BlacKkKlansman, the latest film or "joint" by filmmaker Spike Lee. As with the late musician, Lee's career consists of a handful of underrated gems and many disappointing struggles to reattain the heights of his bona-fide masterpieces-1989's Do the Right Thing and 1992's Malcolm X. BlacKkKlansman, Lee's biographical drama about a most fascinating episode in the life of police officer Ron Stallworth, is a confident return to form for the 61-year-old stalwart of politically and racially charged cinema.
It is 1972. Ron Stallworth (John David Washington) joins the Colorado Springs Police Department as its first African-American detective. Feeling confident, Stallworth dares to infiltrate and expose the extremist and racist Ku Klux Klan (KKK) for conspiring to attack minorities. Stallworth teams up with his Jewish co-worker, Philip "Flip" Zimmerman (Adam Driver), to go undercover in the "Organization" (as Klan members refer to their group). Since the rookie detective made the mistake of using his own name, Zimmerman must also act and talk as Stallworth-a challenge, considering their racial backgrounds. Between cozying up to the Klan's "Grand Wizard"/national director David Duke (Topher Grace) and his intent to sanitize its violent rhetoric to appeal to the mainstream and confronting their own cultural identities in the fight to eradicate hate, Stallworth and Zimmerman embark on the undercover investigation of their lives.
Despite the heavy weight and sensitivity of its subject matter, BlacKkKlansman's greatest asset is the noticeable joy that exudes from each frame and all the actors inhabiting them. Leading the way is former professional football player turned actor John David Washington, son of famed actor Denzel Washington. Washington interacts with many of his fellow cast members, transitioning between "King's" English and jive as the movie's embodiment the internal of tug o' war experienced by every American citizen of color, especially those of African descent. Though co-star Adam Driver's role is less flashy, he conveys just as well how Zimmerman's unpracticed Jewish heritage compels him to commit to investigating the KKK, which hates Jews about as much as those of African descent.
Beyond the leading duo are supporting players who vary between functional and noteworthy. Corey Hawkins gets an extended rousing speech and a brief police pullover scene as the Trinidadian Civil Rights and Pan-African activist Kwame Ture. Topher Grace gets just enough screentime as the affable David Duke, whose passion for the KKK's dark agenda matches his lack of awareness when having one-to-one phone conversations with Ron Stallworth. On the other hand, Laura Harrier (who last appeared in Spider-Man: Homecoming) could have used more scenes as Patrice Dumas, president of the local Black Student Union. Her forever-low view of the police as an institution does little to cover her standard role as Stallworth's love interest.
Surprisingly, two of BlacKkKlansman's secret weapons are cast members of European descent: Finish actor Jasper Pääkkönen gets to overuse his "Jew radar" as testy "Organization" member Felix Kendrickson. Kendrickson's interrogation of the undercover Zimmerman and whether he has been "circumstanced" registers as one of biographical drama's funniest scenes. Ashlie Atkinson plays Kendrickson's faithful wife Connie as an outsider adorably itching to participate in her husband's KKK activities. Both actors relish their characters' racism the most from among the cast. One can imagine Lee, Pääkkönen, and Atkinson having many laughs while discussing this acting choice between takes.
2018 has proved itself as a monumental year for films centered on those of African descent. I rank BlacKkKlansman just above Disney-Marvel's Black Panther (already the subgenre's representative for 2018), yet I ultimately prefer the innovative bonkers of Sorry to Bother You and the grounded conciseness of Blindspotting. Still, I hope BlacKkKlansman marks the official start of a bountiful autumn season in Spike Lee's storied filmmaking career.
Now, onward to the dance floor! "It's too late / to turn back now / I believe, I believe, I believe I'm fallin' in love..."
(Parental Note: BlacKkKlansman has been rated R by the MPAA "for language throughout, including racial epithets, and for disturbing/violent material and some sexual references". It has also been rated 15 by the BBFC for "racist violence and language," and "very strong language".)
R.N.B.
The Shack (2017)
Christian Themes in The Shack
(Originally published on the Impacting Culture blog)
In 2007, William P. Young's novel The Shack surprised readers throughout America, becoming a New York Times bestseller, so Hollywood producers quickly sought to adapt it for the big screen. I approached this film with some apprehension due to its overt Christian nature, since most of the heavy Christian films that I've seen in the past two years (which, to my surprise, only includes one Pure Flix film-Woodlawn) have largely failed to convince me that Christian filmmakers understand the peculiar subtleties of cinematic storytelling. (I say this as a Roman Catholic who attended a Catholic film school). The strongest examples couch the deeper theological material in a different subgenre, like Risen's period procedural and Hacksaw Ridge's war romance. After seeing The Shack, I can safely say that despite the apparent flaws and mostly conventional filmmaking, I was impressed with what the film got right.
Sam Worthington (Avatar) plays Mackenzie "Mack" Phillips. As Tim McGraw (a family friend) recounts in his bookending voiceover, Mack suffered abuse at the hands of his drunken father in his childhood. Now, he's the hardworking father of a family of three. He dutifully, if a bit reluctantly, attends Sunday congregation with his family and respects how his wife (Radha Mitchell) and kids pray to God, referring to him as "Papa". That all changes during a camping trip with his three children-Kate, Josh, and Missy. When Kate and Josh get into a canoeing accident near shore, Mack rushes over to save them-leaving Missy unattended. Upon returning with his two older kids, he discovers that Missy has disappeared. Authorities later discover that she was the victim of a serial killer, leaving Mack devastated.
Months later, Mack remains depressed and has alienated himself from his family and from God. It is in this state of mind that he happens upon an anonymous telegram, signed by "Papa", inviting Mack to come to the decrepit cabin in the mountains where his daughter's blood and torn dress were discovered by the police. Despite his rage and regret pushing him closer to suicide, Mack heads over to the cabin, where he meets-to his great astonishment-human personifications of the Holy Trinity (Octavia Spencer as "Papa", Aviv Alush as Jesus, and Japanese actress Sumire as the Holy Spirit or "Sarayu"). There, the trio aid Mack in facing, accepting, forgiving, and moving on from the tragedy.
While The Shack doesn't fully excite my cinematic palate, it does provide decent life lessons for everyone, Christian or non-Christian. First, kudos to the visual effects department for bringing life to the idyllic mountain lake getaway where Mack spends most of the story-one that any retreat coordinator would rush to reserve at once. The actors portraying the Trinity solidly convey (to the best of their ability) the soothing presence of each Person. The Oscar-winning Octavia Spencer was a fantastic choice to play "Papa," presenting that inviting and nurturing personality found in the best of mothers. Compared to the other two, Aviv Alush' Jesus is properly portrayed as a male Middle Eastern carpenter. (When Mack expresses to Jesus that he's most relaxed around Him, Jesus responds, "That's probably because I'm human.") Lastly, it makes complete sense (at least to this critic of Filipino descent) to portray the Holy Spirit as a sprite-like Asian woman, since Asians naturally provide the world with the liveliest cuisines, a variety of intense combat styles, and of course, the best action films. Most of my doubts that the film would crumble in its portrayal of the Trinity disappeared when Mack asks, "So...which one of you is...?" and the trio simultaneously responds, "I am," with no hesitation. (Those uncomfortable with how a woman portrays "Papa" should remember to approach this story as a fantasy, not as complete theological truth. Also, Oscar-nominated actor Graham Greene plays the character at one point in the film, so at least the filmmakers can somewhat satisfy those concerned with gender portrayals. No male equivalent exists in the story for the Holy Spirit, however.)
The Shack succeeds most when it focuses on bountiful love of God and the healing and forgiveness necessary to experience His love. Mack expresses his anger towards God's apparent negligence when he tells Papa, "Seems like you have a bad habit of leaving those you supposedly love." With every philosophical obstacle he encounters, any of the three Persons responds simply but appropriately. Papa says, "There's no easy answer that'll take your pain away," showing Mack her scarred wrists to demonstrate that even she suffered on the cross. In one sequence, a personified Wisdom, nicknamed "Sophia" (Alice Braga) guides Mack through a rigorous trial of harnessing judgement like God does, remarking at the end, "Doesn't the legacy of brokenness go all the way back to Adam?...You want the promise of a pain-free life? There isn't one." One learns that God never wavers in expressing fondness for all mankind, teaching that "sin is its own punishment."
However, the film's theology does fall short, as does most Protestant material, when the subject of the Church and religion emerges. Easily the most cringe-worthy scene for me was when Mack and Jesus conclude their run across the lake (literally) and stop to take a break at the opposite shore. Here, Jesus claims, "Religion is way too much work. I don't want slaves. I want friends," as though he forgot that he specifically appointed a dozen men for the purpose of shepherding and safeguarding the one, true Faith. The Catholic Church as Jesus' spouse is entirely nonexistent in this story, and Catholic readers of William P. Young's original novel should be ready for that absence, which hints at tolerating non-denominationalism and indifferentism.
Elsewhere, an air of stiffness slightly impairs Sam Worthington's performance, not to mention those moments when he tries to hide his Australian accent, despite acting well during the dramatic moments. Tim McGraw's bookending voice-overs are heavy-handed, superfluous, and talk down to audiences. (The bookending voice-over is rapidly turning into the most prevalent cinematic cliche of 2017 and filmmakers would do well to tell their stories more effectively so as to avoid cutting corners using such a tool.)
If I were the most powerful man in Hollywood, I would prefer that films stray from stories overtly about religion. They usually never get them right, which can become a source of scandal for conservative-minded families aching for more wholesome entertainment. It's one of my deepest and rarely-met desires to watch an entire film wherein characters live the faith (ideally Catholic) in their choices (even amidst violent or suggestive circumstances) as opposed to spouting it at every turn. With films like The Shack that will likely stand alone from other typical Christian offerings this year (or even next year) for its competence, I'm reminded of one of Robert Redford's final lines from the classic, Best Picture-winning 1973 caper film The Sting: "It's not enough...but it's close."
R.N.B.
Get Out (2017)
The Mind Is a Terrible Thing to Waste
(Originally published on the Impacting Culture blog)
As the United States and the world coasts from the aftermath of a most controversial presidential election, many wonder whether the problem of racism has improved between the time that Barack Obama took the reins as the 44th president and this past January when he made way for Donald Trump. This eye-opening horror-comedy-from the moody, more reserved half of the popular Key & Peele comedy duo in his directorial debut, of all people-seems to suggest that the problem has only gotten worse. Luckily, such turnouts soon become fertile ground for curious and rich trends in art, which is a blessing for the barren horror cinema of modern times.
A tense cold opening should squash any doubts of Mr. Peele's directorial hand, which captures (in mostly one long take) a young man (Keith Stanfield) walking down the quiet, moonlit streets of a seemingly safe neighborhood, joking on the phone about how easy it is to get lost in copy-and-paste suburban streets. Out of nowhere, a car blasting polka music sneaks ever closer to the man, and from there, we know the scene's destination. Nevertheless, the opening scene establishes the tone-even in the surrounding horrorshow, a contrasting amusement ensues.
"Do they know?," Chris Washington (Sicario's Daniel Kaluuya) asks his kindhearted, live-in girlfriend Rose (Allison Williams, of HBO's Girls), signifying that her affluent parents may not be aware of their interracial, "he black, she white" romance. The film wastes no time bringing the couple to the wealthy home of Rose's parents-her neurosurgeon dad, Dean Armitage (Bradley Whitford), and her psychotherapist mom, Missy Armitage (Catherine Keener). A dog-and-cat complementary attitude characterizes the two: A smiling Dean confidently but forcefully tries buddying it up with Chris with phrases like "My man" and remarking that he "would've voted Obama for a third term," whereas the subdued Missy all but sneakily coaxes Chris to reveal his childhood traumas in one of her hypnosis sessions.
Right away, Chris senses something rather askew about the estate-the two servants Walter (Marcus Henderson) and Georgina (Betty Gabriel) are both African-American, not to mention behaving like characters out of Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Furthermore, Dean reveals to Chris during the tour of the grounds that his father would have competed in the U.S. track and field team for the 1936 Summer Olympics if not for a certain runner named Jesse Owens. Just an innocent little family tidbit, right? The creepiness only amps up from there with the arrival of the family's younger son Jeremy (Caleb Landry Jones), who's obsessed with Chris' physicality, and the Chris-fixated behavior of the guests at the neighborhood get-together the following day, where Chris recognizes the young man from the opening, the one we watched get kidnapped-something Chris' TSA-employed best friend back in the city (Lil Rel Howery) is quick to point out to him over cell phone.
With this solo debut behind the camera, writer-director Jordan Peele never forgot that only the handling of setup and payoff differentiate between comedy and horror. Peele brought out worthwhile performances from all of his actors. Whitford and Keener handle their characters like seasoned pros, harnessing their warm demeanors to cover sinister intentions. Star Daniel Kaluuya proves his worth as a dependable lead, while it's always a delight to see character actor Stephen Root at work, even in a small role. The standout performance of the bunch, however, is Lil Rel Howery as Rod, who gets his own subplot as the Chris' determined best friend whose only obstacle when warning the police of Chris' potentially dangerous circumstances is his graceless street language. Howery's turn provides the comic relief in an otherwise disturbing tale.
Only mature teens and older should watch this film. Characters, particularly Rod, don't shy away from strong language when the circumstances welcome it. Though somewhat justified by one character's intentions, the story portrays Chris and Rose's cohabitating relationship as normal. Viewers should expect sudden, bloody violence towards the end, with the more grotesque moments involving medical tools. Moreover, the conservative crowd might find some of the more politically-charged elements questionable, such as when the party guests all show a bit of red while Chris is primarily dressed in blue or when a character eats colorful cereal while keeping the white milk in a separate glass.
Horror is all about fear of the unfamiliar and few in American history know that better than the African-American community. One may laugh and fawn over a foreign, seemingly innocent creature, up until the moment it bites off a finger or burrows into a brain. Get Out is a film that thrives in that gray area in between-that final moment of suspense between the smile and the scream.
Sicario: Day of the Soldado (2018)
Violence & Deception Across Borders in Sicario: Day of the Soldado
(Originally published on the Impacting Culture blog)
"If you want to start a war, kidnap a prince. The king will start it for you." - CIA Agent Matt Graver (Josh Brolin) to U.S. Secretary of Defense James Riley (Matthew Modine) and CIA Director Cynthia Foards (Catherine Keener)
Potential spoilers below
I find it premature when most mainstream viewers jump to labeling the most recent completed movie year as "the best of the decade". To that, I have always countered with the cinema of 2015, for which I have briefly mentioned my high regard in several past reviews. Whereas 2017 did not see a single five-star rating from me, 2015 alone saw five-Steve Jobs, The Big Short, Mad Max: Fury Road (2015's crown jewel for many), Sicario, and Shaun the Sheep. (Sorry, Inside Out fans, but Shaun is a modern Buster Keaton-esque masterpiece.) Down a half-star lie Son of Saul and The Revenant, followed by over a dozen strong four-star-rated films.
Yes, 2015 remains my favorite film year of the 2010s thus far. Yet while the unheralded Steve Jobs reigns at the top today, it was Sicario (Español: "hitman") that wore the crown for me from 2015's end up until the early months of 2017. The sobering and exhilarating action thriller was directed by Denis Villeneuve, written by Taylor Sheridan, and starred a determined Emily Blunt, a laid-back Josh Brolin, an enigmatic yet intimidating Benicio Del Toro, and future Get Out star Daniel Kaluuya and former Burn Notice star Jeffrey Donovan in small roles. Three years on, Sicario still teems with cinematic riches-cinematography by Roger Deakins (who would finally win his Oscar for his next Villeneuve collaboration), an unnerving score by the late Jóhann Jóhannsson, a U.S.-Mexican border standoff scene that swells with tension, and the masterstroke of shifting to Benicio Del Toro's perspective for fifteen minutes towards the end.
With the stand-alone sequel (subtitled in North America, and hereafter referred to, as Day of the Soldado), only writer Sheridan and actors Brolin, Del Toro, and Donovan return. Italian director Stefano Sollima (making his English and Spanish-language debut) takes over from Villeneuve. Hildur Guðnadóttir takes over from late Jóhannsson in the score, Dariusz Wolski from Deakins as cinematographer, and Matthew Newman from Joe Walker as film editor, among other technical craftspeople. Though it does not become The Empire Strikes Back of the Sicario saga, Day of the Soldado delivers on both intense visceral action and covert operation thrills.
When Mexican drug cartels start smuggling Islamic suicide bombers and other terrorists across the U.S. border, CIA agent Matt Graver (Josh Brolin) once again taps black operative Alejandro Gillick (Benicio Del Toro) to bait the drug cartels into war with one another. To do this, they assassinate the lawyer of one cartel and kidnap Isabela Reyes (Isabella Moner), the daughter of that cartel's rival kingpin, as part of a "false flag" operation. When plans to abandon her in rival cartel territory fall through due to corrupt Mexican federal police officers, CIA director Cynthia Foards (Catherine Keener) and U.S. Secretary of Defense James Riley (Matthew Modine) cancel the operation and render Isabella as collateral damage to eliminate.
For Gillick, who has become protective of Isabella, that is unacceptable.
Day of the Soldado falls into the unsurprising sequel trap of familiarity for roughly its first half. The opening pair of grisly suicide bombing scenes and Graver's interrogation of a detained Somalian (Faysal Ahmed) possibly connected to the incidents echo similar scenes from the first Sicario. Whereas the first movie's subplot of a corrupt Mexican police officer (Maximiliano Hernández) felt subtle and organic, Day of the Soldado's subplot of young aspiring gangster Miguel Hernandez (Elijah Rodriguez, in his live action debut) comes off as contrived for much of its screentime. (A husband and father draws more sympathy than a naïve teenager.) Finally, the dual inclusion of Keener and Modine as stock action genre authority figures pales next to Victor Garber's soft-spokenness in the first film.
Once writer Taylor Sheridan has finished reorienting audiences with the characters and world in the first half, he proceeds to spend the second half catapulting Day of the Soldado back to the first Sicario's high level of quality. Del Toro and the commendable Ms. Moner's race for the border is as gripping and relentless as some of the first movie's best scenes. Ms. Moner gives a strong breakout performance as the capable Isabella. At the same time, she does not take away from Del Toro's consistent command of the screen as he reprises a role that should have earned him a Best Supporting Actor Oscar nomination three years ago. Be sure to pay attention to a powerful scene in which Del Toro uses American Sign Language.
Day of the Soldado is not better than the first Sicario, particularly during the moments that feel too reminiscent of its predecessor. Nevertheless, Day of the Soldado proves itself as a searing second act in a gritty, relevant, and heavily mature action thriller odyssey. Its cast is sturdy and its technical craftspeople hold to the mesmerizing template established by the first movie. Above all, Day of the Soldado benefits greatly from serving its weaker components first, before building up to a jaw-dropping finale - one that leaves me optimistic for the sequel to come.
(Parental Note: Sicario: Day of the Soldado has been rated R by the MPAA "for strong violence, bloody images, and language". It has also been rated 15 by the BBFC for "strong bloody violence" and "language", and rated O (Morally offensive) by the Catholic News Service for containing "excessive bloody violence, at least one use of profanity, and constant rough and crude language.")
R.N.B.