Charlize Theron is a Fearless Mother in 'Tully'
If you’re looking for a film that is simultaneously sharp and funny, as well as deeply and deftly observational of the struggles of early motherhood, then I can’t recommend Tully enough.
Starring a fearless Charlize Theron as a mother of two – and then to an unexpected third, before a night nanny comes to offer her some relief – Tully is intimate, emotionally affecting, and in the end, an unexpectedly surprising film that should connect with audiences who are willing to seek out a smaller, darker movie about the joys and hardship of motherhood.
Marlo (Theron) is a mother of two, struggling to keep her head above water when an unexpected third enters the equation. Heavy bags under her eyes and a bloated middle (Theron gained 50lbs pounds for the role), she is obviously overworked and beyond tired, which her sweet but oblivious husband Drew (Ron Livingston) doesn’t notice. It leads her well-off brother Craig (Mark Duplass) to offer her the services of a night nanny to help when her newborn arrives. When Marlo welcomes child number three, she’s hesitant to accept Craig’s offer… until she can no longer say no. This is when we see the arrival of Tully (Mackenzie Davis) – a free-spirited bohemian living out her youthful twenties as a caretaker that swoops in at night and cares for the infant so Marlo can get a decent night's sleep. Early hesitations turn into a real connection and friendship, in which Marlo re-connects with her younger self and a freer, lighter spirit allows her to feel good about herself. However, Tully goes even further when it shows Marlo’s dilemma of confronting the spirited night nanny on whether to continue using her services or continue mothering by herself.
Reitman crafts a very moving love letter to the tolls of motherhood and all that it demands.
In Tully, Charlize Theron takes on this role with full fire and commitment. It’s absolutely Theron’s movie, and she should be applauded for how far she takes this role that requires her to be so emotionally vulnerable that she hasn’t displayed since Young Adult, which no coincidence, was also directed Jason Reitman and penned by screenwriter Diablo Cody. Where Theron played a single woman looking to steal a married man away in Young Adult, she plays the exact opposite in Tully. They’re bookend performances, no doubt, and Tully showcases Theron as a serious actor willing to take o these sorts of demanding roles. Not to be forgotten, Mackenzie Davis is true magic onscreen, as her spirit is captivating at every turn and only promises more moving performances.
While Tully is a small movie that might not register with everyone, it’s rewarding in so many detailed ways. Reitman crafts a very moving love letter to the tolls of motherhood and all that it demands. It leans into its humor with another sharp piece of strong story and writing, both absolutely fearless as well as humorous. Theron, Reitman, and Cody manage to craft a sharp and funny movie with beautiful images and sequences that will stay in audiences’ heads for long after.
'Tully' is rated R for language and some sexuality/nudity. 95 minutes. Now playing in theaters everywhere.
The Best From the 2018 TCM Classic Film Festival
The accessibility of digital streaming has made watching movies and television shows all the easier,
but that also means that films are not getting watched in the proper format, and with the number of streaming choices, it means that classic films aren't getting watched altogether. This is why events like the Turner Classic Movie Film Festival are so important these days, to promote watching classic movies. This year, Nelson Tracey and I were accredited to attend the festival where we both caught up on films we have never seen. Read below for the films we saw, and be sure to try to attend the TCM Film Festival next year for a weekend that you will truly love and appreciate.
Windjammer (The Voyage of the Christian Radich) (1958)
Nelson: From the outset, I knew that among the classics long overdue for me to see and the hidden gems of the past I may never find otherwise, there was one film of 2018’s roster not to be missed – which thankfully Ryan and I both caught at the fest. Prior to the release of this year’s festival lineup, I was unfamiliar with Windjammer, and even my enthusiastic expectations couldn’t have been surpassed any higher. Released in 1958, the part documentary, part travelogue, part music movie was the only film ever created in the “Cinemiracle” format, a 3-camera process designed to rival Cinerama in creating immersive cinema. After a short prologue in standard 16mm, the curtains opened up on the Windjammer, a massive schooner sailboat charting the open seas in a pristine, uninterrupted concave image that emulates panoramic eyesight. It’s spectacular, and that’s just frame one. We follow this massive sailboat from Norway, with a crew of young men ages 14-21, all learning their ways in a boy scouts-meets-boot camp program that will take them 250 days to traverse 20,000 nautical miles. Miraculously, the film isn’t a one-trick pony, it continues to up the ante at every destination, from Portuguese islands to Trinidad to New York City, and finally, a spectacle involving the U.S. Navy and a submarine.
There is much to analyze in the film: by taking a sailboat in 1958, the characters themselves are, in a sense, living in the past by holding on to an antiquated tradition, aware of it as something worth holding onto despite technological advances. In the film, call-backs to the past are present everywhere, in the indigenous cultures at every destination, and a Philadelphia fire parade which pulls out fire carriages from the turn of the century. And on a meta level, watching the film today is the same experience: it’s a pure specimen of a bygone era that in a generation will be completely obscure if not already so. We heard two different people in the audience (fairly well-attended but not enough for what it deserved) share that they had seen the movie in cinemas in 1958 as boys under the age of 10. It’s emotional to vicariously imagine what that must have been like to return to such a movie a full sixty years later. Of the many movies at this year’s festival, Windjammer and all that came with it stood head and shoulders above the rest.
Ryan: To say that seeing Windjammer in the ArcLight Hollywood Cinerama Dome was undeniably one of the most incredible movie moments I've ever experienced would not be an overstatement. The moment that the screen projected the Cinemiracle shot onto the Cinerama screen was breathtaking, and it didn't let up for the rest of the runtime. In terms of immersive experience, WIndjammer gives Dunkirk a run for its money. This was an unforgettable experience and perhaps the best time that I had at this or any other TCM Film Fest before it.
Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939)
Nelson: This was the classic movie on my festival roster most overdue for me to see, the type of movie that everyone’s seen clips or parodies of but is now multiple generations removed from its source. It’s got the patriotic wide-eyed wonder of Forrest Gump, and the wholesome underdog spirit of Rudy. It’s impossible to see a film like this and not feel a little more optimism for American democracy, and rather than painting it with rose-colored glasses, even in 1939, Mr. Smith was willing to acknowledge its corrupt fallacies and that authenticity makes it endearing and a great match for a heroic, naive protagonist played to perfection by Jimmy Stewart. The odds will always be stacked against change, but that doesn’t make good any less worth fighting for. Frank Capra’s film captured this timeless spirit ages ago and yet it resonates so much today as any classic film can do so well.
Ryan: If you were to take a look at the schedule of films from this year's festival, it wouldn't be any surprise to say that no film was more politically relevant to these times than this Frank Capra classic. I was eagerly looking forward to seeing this film in today's political climate. Like most people, I was at least aware of the clip of Jimmy Stewart in the Senate building giving an impassioned speech of sticking to moral rightness in the face of a corrupt system, but to see the complete film is to also see the complete arch of a performance that was mesmerizing. What comes before this fiery speech is a story of a fresh-faced boy scout turned Senator that's so wide-eyed that he can't help but stand out from his corrupt and cynical peers. To see Stewart start from the most innocent of places to turn so physically strained and horse-voiced shows a leap that reveals a star-turning a performance unlike any I've ever seen. Capra's staging of Stewart on the Senate floor to command a room of Senators and mezzanine-viewers becomes more than an iconic image but the visual representation of fighting for moral rightness.
Once Upon a Time in the West (1968)
Ryan: Seeing this film for the first time and in the best viewing experience I could ask for (the TCL Chinese IMAX theater) was overwhelming and humbling. It made me remember why we reserve the word "masterpiece" for these sorts of artistic achievements, and why we also make the effort to see them in the best viewing experience possible. Although my personal film diary is admittedly weak on Westerns, any sophomoric cinephile worth his salt would be able to associate the name Sergio Leone with being responsible for creating the best Westerns of American cinema. Before watching, I read that Once Upon a Time in the West is unique for a number of reasons: the film was made and released after seminal classic westerns like Shane, The Searchers, and The Good, the Bad and the Ugly came out and which Leone then consciously used these conventions from. Which is to say that this film used the very best of what came before it to tell this tale. To see the most amazing landscapes, masterfully composed compositions, amazing editing, was all breathtaking. But what makes it all immaculate was the score by Ennio Morricone which brought tears to my eyes. This will stand as one of the moving movie moments in my life.
Hamlet (1948)
Nelson: Directed by and starring the iconic Laurence Olivier, the Best Picture winner of 1948 is the definitive cinematic adaptation of the Shakespeare play. At two and a half hours long and screened on the last day of the festival, this was a real test of stamina – not because it wasn’t worthy of my attention, but because it's so much to take in after having viewed many films before it. But alas, that’s the spirit of TCM: when else would I get a chance to spend all afternoon watching Shakespeare in the dark? And in my lengthy journey to see every Best Picture winner, why not take a chance to check this one off? It would only prove to be worth it.
If I may be honest, this viewing took me around a solid hour to settle into: with the density of Shakespeare matched with 1940s cinematic elegance, Hamlet is not film school 101. And yet, while it certainly isn’t the experience most audiences would rush out to a theater for, once the wheels started turning, it’s a true towering force of nature. Influenced largely by Citizen Kane, Olivier’s Hamlet combines the theatrics that made Shakespeare the very best with cinematic deft that allows them to reach new heights. Hamlet’s soliloquies are given an authentic reading here: he alternates between voiceover in his head and audibly speaking the words to himself (isn’t that how we all talk to ourselves?). And yet I’ve never seen a movie do this with such intentional elegance. Tracking shots through Xanadu-esque cathedrals give it a timely, ominous nature that, despite being shot on soundstages, feel truly lived in and vast (it also won Oscars for Art Direction and Costume Design). While the climax is stunning and the numerous tragic deaths are unforgettable, the highlight of the film is the midpoint, where Hamlet instructs his theater cast to put on a play of murder designed to agitate his uncle. It’s a brewing of Shakespeare, cinema, and Olivier, and while it’s no casual viewing, the concepts you can glean from this work are vast.
Stage Door (1937)
Nelson: Screened on a nitrate print, this 1937 Best Picture nominee depicts a New York City boarding house for young aspiring theater actresses. The ensemble cast is led by Ginger Rogers, the house’s unofficial ringleader, who is forced to room with the new girl, Katherine Hepburn, who, unlike the rest of the house, comes from aristocracy. The ensemble piece is comedic and snappy throughout (as to be expected from the premise), yet equally human and emotional. I walked away with more empathy for actors and their internal struggle than I ever have had before, and do not take that lightly. The cast is entirely made up of young women at different stages of trying to catch a break in an industry that can chew them up and spit them out, only to replace them at a moment’s notice. All artists struggle with this, even today, but the actor’s plight, in my eyes, is one of the most challenging. If you want to be an actor, the sheer numbers are insurmountable, and yet if you let that stop you, you shouldn’t be there in the first place. And it took me a film this old to properly come away with an understanding of this timeless struggle. Add some great comedy, great performances, and a surprising topicality thanks to a subplot that resembles the #MeToo strife, and you have yourself a truly classic movie.
Finishing School (1934)
Nelson: You know you’re at TCM when the host announces the film is “pre-code” and the audience oohs and aahs with the same level of enthusiasm as if they were seeing Leonardo DiCaprio perform a live version of his filmography. One of the rare films directed by a woman from the 1930s, Finishing School was an instant hit among the TCM audience (earning a coveted Sunday TBA screening), depicting the naughty misgivings of a stuffy girls’ boarding school in that era. Young movie star Francis Dee (whose grandson was in attendance and participated in the discussion) plays the naive girl new to school opposite Ginger Rogers, the rebellious rule-breaker. Breaking into all kinds of good taboos, the girls drink, smoke, swear, and ultimately, are sexually active, all of which would never pass in most movies for the next 30 years. And yet these experiences give more truth and experience to teenagers and college kids than the more orderly counterparts, and it helps give the film an ageless feeling. The film doesn’t skirt away from these uncomfortable subjects, and walks away with a progressive notion of not conforming to arbitrary societal standards, and carving your own path. Yay for pre-code values!
'The Rider' Review: A Meditative and Moving Look at Americana
Tales of Americana rodeo cowboys –typically men – often portray a heavy helping of machismo in their identity.
But in director Chloé Zhao's second feature film, The Rider, we see a softer and more observational story of blue-collar workers who, with the use of non-actors playing fictionalized versions of themselves, reflect a larger societal observation of overcoming hardship in pursuit of a deeper passion for something as beautiful as it is dangerous and destructive.
In a simple story sense, The Rider celebrates salt of the Earth people who face hardship and does so with a real painter's eye. Brady Jandreau (who plays himself) is a man of the land – silently wise for a young man who has experienced a lot in his young life, including a debilitating post-rodeo accident that sidelines him. Brady is also a man of grit – we don't see the accident, but we do see him removing staples from his head before putting on his cowboy hat. The film follows Brady as he attempts to literally “get back on the horse” which is such a big part of his small-town life.
Zhao captures an authenticity to a part of this American character and life that loosely fictionalizes a narrative that cannot be faked with very masterful observation and understanding of these people and their lives.
The Rider goes further in painting a larger image of the hardships that Brady faces, as Zhao portrays Brady’s life with a single father, whose drinking means the rent doesn't get paid and threatens the stability of him having to also raise a developmentally disabled younger sister. Here, Zhao shows that he has more in his life that he must tame. These storylines are even more powerful when you learn that Chloé Zhao uses non-actors to play these characters, essentially versions of themselves, including his aforementioned father and sister as well as another rodeo cowboy who is a full paraplegic, to stunning effect.
At the center of the story is newcomer Brady Jandreau who along with the cast doesn't so much perform as he does live his everyday life and express his very real feelings. Zhao captures an authenticity to a part of this American character and life that loosely fictionalizes a narrative that cannot be faked with very masterful observation and understanding of these people and their lives. The Rider is one of the most unique and moving viewing experiences I've seen in quite some time. It's largely a meditative film, which means that it requires you to watch with patience. Like Darren Aronofsky’s The Wrestler, starring Mickey Rourke as a professional wrestler on the brink of retirement, The Rider shows the blue-collar workers who follow a career and passion to a detrimental degree. It will reinvigorate your love for your passions and show what meaning we find in life when confronted with hardship.
'The Rider' is rated R for language and drug use. 104 minutes. Now playing at The Landmark.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AlrWRttLTkg
'You Were Never Really Here' Review: Joaquin Phoenix is a Brutal Contract Killer
Lynne Ramsay is in the driver's seat of ass-kicking arthouse films, injecting another strain of sadism into the genre that shows the depravity of human capabilities and the redemption in spite of it.
The life of the contract killer requires control in the midst of chaos, as having full control over any situation is what keeps you alive. Now, throw in the unaccounted variable of companionship, and this contingency becomes a vulnerability and jeopardizing to one's life. This is the synopsis of the new movie You Were Never Really Here.
You Were Never Really Here is the story of a buy-for-hire killer, Joe (Joaquin Phoenix), who lives a life of dark solace in modern day New York City. A burly bear of a man, Joe is silent and consumed in his own thoughts, blending into the background of normal daylight hours before operating in the shadows of his nighttime life as a monastic mercenary. And how easy it would be to live this lifestyle, except Joe must care for his aging mother (Judith Roberts), whose home he returns to between jobs to tend to her in her declining mental state. One day, a new job pops up – to locate the daughter of a high-profile Senator (Alex Manette) – except finding the girl, Nina (Ekaterina Samsonov), doesn't mean the end of the job. Joe soon finds that he's waded into a criminal underworld of child sex trafficking coordinated at the highest levels. When the job goes south, Joe must decide whether to live a lone wolf life or to fight for her safety, which threatens everyone's survival, in his most compromised, uncontrolled state.
The pairing of the film's director, Lynne Ramsay, and Joaquin Phoenix, artists who don't so much as turn a blind eye to the heinous and horrific parts of the human psyche as much as they full-tilt bulldoze towards it, makes for an electrifying experience. As the grizzly-bearded and barrel-chested Joe, Phoenix delivers another stunning performance in a role that requires him to push to the fringes of human behavior. Playing a muscly heat-seeking missile during the film's action scenes, Phoenix also delivers in the moments of mental anguish in which Joe stows away in the closet of his childhood home and wraps a plastic bag over his head to re-live moments of childhood trauma to queasy effect.
The pairing of the film's director, Lynne Ramsay, and Joaquin Phoenix, artists who don't so much as turn a blind eye to the heinous and horrific parts of the human psyche as much as they full-tilt bulldoze towards it, makes for an electrifying experience.
The theme of control is something that Ramsay has become acclaimed for mastering in her movies. She pushes audiences past the limits of their comfort zone to show the depths of wickedness that humans are capable of, as 2011's We Need to Talk About Kevin revealed the amount of sin that people commit that borders on the demonic. In You Were Never Really Here, while Ramsay again displays the depravity of human behavior, she seems more intent on exploring how people get to become broken, how innocence can become lost at the earliest of ages. When Joe sees Nina experience horrors first-hand, he realizes that the circle of abuse he endured as a child continues against all of his efforts and forces him to question: did he really save her? Was he ever really there?
While You Were Never Really Here doesn't set out to capture the poetry of We Need to Talk About Kevin, the film is still a crackling action thriller with stunning cinematography that shows artistic flourish. Ramsay and Phoenix craft a morality drama that shows how good efforts in a broken world can come up fruitless. Ramsay wades into these waters to capture this dark, depraved part of the very real human psyche while capturing this in an artfully electrifying fashion is a trip that cinephiles will love to take.
85 minutes. 'You Were Never Really Here' is rated R for strong violence, disturbing and grisly images, language, and brief nudity. In theaters April 6.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R8oYYg75Qvg
'Final Portrait' Review: An Eccentric Artist is Crippled From Creating
Portraits of artists as tortured souls are generally funny for their self-imposed silliness.
However, in today's multi-cultural landscape in which the voices of a wide variety of people of color, gender, and oppression are finally having their stories told, the stories of artists – almost all (white) men – are slowly gathering louder sighs and more pronounced eye rolls.
Now, if you have the appetite for it, this idea can still be a very funny thing, as the stubbornness of an artist is still the same silliness as in all egotistical people. Certainly, this conceit is something that the brilliant Phantom Thread (my second favorite film of last year) executed exactly right. Showing Daniel Day-Lewis' couture dressmaker Reynolds Woodcock as a man who could only create his art when having breakfast totally undisturbed of toast-scraping, it flips this script on its head when it shows the utter absurdity of how fragile and irritable he is, should that sort of joke bemuse you.
The fragile and eccentric artist who is crippled from creating is also the story of Final Portrait, the debut feature film by Stanley Tucci. In Final Portrait, Tucci is similarly interested in the inner-workings of the manic mind of the tortured artist, of which the same temperament and unpredictability creates the greatest of masterpieces as well as stifles the creation of art. This study is found in the real-life story of a socialite – James Lord (Armie Hammer) – who agrees to sit for a portrait to be done by the legendary Swiss artist Alberto Giacometti (Geoffrey Rush). The joke of the movie – which also hinders the film's pacing – is that what was estimated to be an afternoon's worth of sitting ends up turning into days, which turns into weeks, of Lord waiting for Giacometti to do more than a few brush strokes at a time, or glob over days of work and re-start.
Tucci is similarly interested in the inner-workings of the manic mind of the tortured artist, of which the same temperament and unpredictability creates the greatest of masterpieces as well as stifles the creation of art.
One learns quickly that art isn't in the final product, but in the process. Or at least one learns that's what Tucci is interested in. As James Lord tells it – in sporadic voiceover narration that resembles a fascination to the mysterious mythological man like Nick in The Great Gatsby – he arrives at Giacometti's studio day after day, only to join the artist on his tangents of frustration or going out to get drinks and women (Lord doesn't partake, it's hinted that he's already spoken for by a man back home).
Hammer is polished and handsome but plays a toothless version of what his Winklevoss character might have been had he been entirely prep-school than bully. He does lend a soft and selfless performance, allowing Geoffrey Rush to own the movie as a chain-smoking and wild-mannered artist. Rush, even though his performance is all bravado and a hard act to maintain from start to finish, is captivating.
Ultimately, Final Portrait is just like its story of a temperamental and exacting artist. Tucci's writer/director debut is a noble journey of exploration that, after all of the time that was put into it, is unfortunately unfruitful.
90 minutes. Final Portrait is rated R for language, some sexual references, and nudity. Now playing at select Laemmle Theaters.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sRsiW5c29Sk
'Isle of Dogs' is a Lovingly Crafted Doggy Tale of Pure Delight
Is there anyone who could transition from live-action filmmaking to stop-motion animation as gloriously as the wonderful Wes Anderson?
No. Unsurprisingly, the attention that Anderson gives to the tiniest of aesthetic details, as seen in now-modern classics such as The Royal Tenenbaums and Moonrise Kingdom, makes his natural tinkerer sensibilities only logical for the stop-motion medium. In his latest feature film, Isle of Dogs (in theaters today), we see the director at his best – crafting a storybook adventure that distills the essence of delight into a small-scale canine and kiddie-friendly epic.
Set in a fictional near-future Japan, Isle of Dogs (say it fast for an added treat) tells the story of a Japanese nation under siege by a dog epidemic known as "snout fever." This brings about the rise of fear-mongering Mayor Kobayashi (voiced by Kunichi Nomura) who sets out to banish all dogs, forcing them to live out the rest of their numbered days in exile on Trash Island. Of course, this premise is a not-so-veiled political commentary about demagoguery, but with Anderson's trademark wry and winking humor at play, the whole thing is hilariously satirized and maintains a sentimental heart.
Against this backdrop, the young Akira (Koyu Rankin) sets out to find his lost dog on Trash Island. This leads him to rest of the heroes in the story: the famished and sickly Rex (Edward Norton), Duke (Jeff Goldblum), Boss (Bill Murray) and King (Bob Balaban) who all agree to help the young boy find his dog, Spots (Liev Schreiber). However, it's the pack's leader and single stray of the group, Chief (Bryan Cranston), who is hesitant to help Akira because of his "obey no man" attitude. Ultimately outvoted (the dogs always put group decisions up to a democratic vote), Chief reluctantly accompanies the fool-hearty dogs – and human – on their odyssey.
It's a magical thing to watch these animated dogs come to life on the big screen. Anderson's skilled animators and voice cast breathe magical humor and humanness all their own into these dogs, making you remember that every movement was made with the faintest of touches. Through a long journey that sees Akira and the dogs evade military forces in the form of robotic dog hunters, it all leads to a climactic end in which, with the help of pro-dog resistance fighters – including an outspoken American foreign exchange student (voiced by Greta Gerwig) – the dogs must fight for survival, lest man's best friend be eradicated from civilization.
Anderson's youthfully defiant films speak to our innermost selves.
The story and staging are all very refined and tight, which makes sense, as this isn't Anderson’s first foray into stop-motion animation. His 2009 outing, Fantastic Mr. Fox, saw the auteur first explore the stop-motion medium by bringing the seminal children’s book to the big screen. While it was acclaimed for all of the right reasons, it also felt like a director doing a one-off homage to a beloved source material (P.T. Anderson's under-appreciated Inherent Vice feels like a similarly executed auteurist exercise). But with Isle of Dogs, we get an original story from Anderson and collaborators Roman Coppola, Jason Schwartzman, and Kunichi Nomura, and feels like an even tighter, more coherent story that paces fantastically all it's own.
And while Anderson has literally shrunken down the size of the production for Isle of Dogs, it should be noted that he expands in his exploration of a new cultural landscape and continent, bringing every bit of Japanese culture and detail to life in his storybook world. And no matter the size, whether as grand as The Grand Budapest Hotel or as intimate as Isle of Dogs, one thing always remains the same: Anderson's films are about a spirit of adolescence that stands out, or up, to a larger, more absurd, adult world. Anderson's youthfully defiant films speak to our innermost selves.
So, where does Isle of Dogs rank next to the rest of Anderson's other brilliant works? To put the finest point on it, Isle of Dogs is his most delightful work. I loved every minute and moment of this film, and it's not hard to do exactly that. How Anderson and company are able to make a movie so funny with the most minute gestures, glances, and moments is something that will have audiences wagging their tails over in pure joy.
101 min. 'Isle of Dogs' is rated PG-13 for thematic elements and some violent images. In theaters this Friday.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dt__kig8PVU
101 min. 'Isle of Dogs' is rated PG-13 for thematic elements and some violent images. In theaters this Friday.
'Annihilation' Review: A Sprawling Sci-Fi That Explores Humanity From the Cellular Level
It's fun when sci-fi is combined with grandly ambitious ideas – here, director Alex Garland explores what it means to be human by understanding our own cellular division at the most microscopic level – but Annihilation is less of a coherent vision then it is a familiar flick of a fight-to-survive with some psychedelic flair.
In Annihilation, the threat to humanity isn't so much that of humans being wiped from the face of the Earth by extraterrestrials, but rather, extinction through mutations to DNA in which humans either cross-evolve with other life-forms, or be killed by those very creations. This wildly ambitious and heavily conceptual sci-fi flick begins with a crash course in explaining cellular make-up at its most basic level: as taught to us in a collegiate course setting by biologist Lena (Natalie Portman). She explains how the activity of endless division within the body – one becoming two, two becoming four, and so on and so forth – shows a fundamental error in our own evolution, in that we are programmed to divide rather than unify.
It's a somewhat cynical premise, but as Lena's military husband Kane (Oscar Isaac) has been gone for a full year since being deployed on a covert mission, we concede that Lena has rightfully become hardened. That is, until Kane stumbles his way through the front door of their home one unexpected night, to Lena's shock. From a military pop-up base that she and her husband are immediately whisked away to, Lena is informed by Dr. Ventress (Jennifer Jason Leigh) that her husband was part of an infantry unit called upon to enter a mysterious site called "The Shimmer." At this location, evolution of all living matter refracts up to its bubbly orb and then back down on itself, making for crazy cross-pollinating life forms that include beautiful floral families and mutated killer bears. With Kane lying comatose, Lena decides to join a new unit who is prepping to enter The Shimmer to discover its origin. Of course, early scientific study turns into an all-out fight for survival as the team soon learns what threatens them inside.
While it strives to blend action and philosophy, 'Annihilation' is more exciting for the ideas that it attempts to bring forward rather than a complete, coherent story.
We've seen this sort of alien expedition mission movie before in films like Prometheus and even in Arrival, but this cast brings another dimension to this film. Natalie Portman returns from her Oscar-winning turn in 2016's Jackie to re-assert herself as a big-screen action star, and while it may be more likely to believe Lena is an academic biologist rather then seven-year army veteran, Jennifer Jason Leigh as Dr. Ventress is commanding all the same, lending more pathos then bravado in her position of power. And one of the most welcomed points of the movie is the all-female crew that moves into The Shimmer, comprised of Anya (Gina Rodriguez), Josie (Tessa Thompson), and Cass (Tuva Novotny). Writer and director Alex Garland once again brings brainy and ambitious ideas to the big screen, but whereas the power of his first feature film Ex Machina was in its intimacy and single location, the world of Annihilation is a world that requires great canvases, and the story is spread too thin to execute a coherent story.
Director Alex Garland (Ex Machina) is among the more ambitious sci-fi storytellers to bring challenging material to the big screen, and Annihilation offers a closer reading for those who read into it. The fact that teams of soldiers continue to enter The Shimmer, knowing that nobody has come back alive (the exception being a comatose Kane) is actually a comment about the flaw in human design. Lena also discovers a shared characteristic in the crew: they are all escaping vices and addictions that await them at home. Garland makes the connection that perhaps humans are destined to be self-destructive creatures.
Of course, this is a deeper reading that may penetrate audiences, and the rest of the movie offers enough serious and interesting world-building that it becomes a unique movie-watching experience. Annihilation ends with a wordless sequence that is stirring and captivating. While Garland expands on bringing his philosophy into action and grander visual storytelling, Annihilation is ultimately more exciting for the ideas that it brings forward than its execution.
115 min. 'Annihilation' is rated R for violence, bloody images, language and some sexuality. Now playing.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=89OP78l9oF0
'Black Panther' Review: A New Kind of Super Hero Roars to the Big Screen
Black Panther, the latest standalone superhero movie from the Marvel cinematic universe, roared to a record-shattering $218 million U.S. debut over this past Presidents' Day weekend, making it the highest debut ever for a February film and fifth highest opening of all time.
Further positive word of mouth reviews are sure to continue to make this movie the first must-see movie event of the year, and for good reason: Black Panther is a vibrant and exciting film that has re-energized the superhero genre and feels vital to these times.
For those who have been keeping up with the entirety of these Marvel movies, Prince T'Challa aka Black Panther (Chadwick Boseman) was first seen in 2016's Captain America: Civil War when he witnessed the passing of his father at his feet. Black Panther sees T'Challa returning home after the events of Civil War to the African nation of Wakanda to succeed the throne as king and rule over his people as the Black Panther. Holding court over his inner circle of royals are W'kabi (Daniel Kaluuya) and a group of strong women, including mother Ramonda (Angela Basset), Wakandan guard Okoye (Danai Gurira) and sister Shuri (Letitia Wright), who give council to an untested T'Challa in which he finds himself with the new responsibility of governing over the people in this new position.
T'Challa finds that it's also up to him to keep his country flourishing, which it has done for generations by staying hidden away from the rest of the world while mining a rare resource called vibranium, an element stronger than steel that the Wakandans put into everything from their buildings to their clothes, and what his sister Shuri makes the Black Panther costume and gadgets out of. But little does T'Challa know that vibranium is also being coveted by enemies abroad, including Klaue (Andy Serkis) and the American Erik Killmonger (Michael B. Jordan). It's Killmonger who we learn has more than a bone to pick with T'Challa who, when he makes a dramatic crash landing into Wakanda, challenges T'Challa for the throne and for control of how to lead the nation forward– in which less then peaceful results loom large.
Seeing people of color in major roles like this only serve to further empower audiences of all kinds who have been underrepresented until now. And this might be 'Black Panther's' greatest superhuman feat.
While Black Panther is the latest superhero flick sandwiched between the rest of the Marvel catalog, it's not your traditional superhero movie. First of all, there's a new visual identity that director Ryan Coogler (Fruitvale Station, Creed) injects into the movie that keeps the whole thing lively and excitable. And largely, there is a mythos to Black Panther that makes it feel even weightier next to its contemporaries. Scenes of T'Challa connecting with his ancestors for wisdom and guidance while he searches for his place and destiny is a drama more akin to Shakespeare than Superman.
And while it's all still pop entertainment escapism, it's undeniable that there is a political and sociological relevancy given the times that we're living in. Scenes in which King T'Challa is confronted with how to rule over Wakanda – whether to provide the knowledge and technology of his country with the rest of the world or hold onto them for his country's own stability – is a discourse especially prescient to today's national conversation.
Black Panther is also the face of a new kind of hero that's largely been missing from superhero movies for quite some time. Having embodied some of history's most important African American figures, such as Jackie Robinson and Thurgood Marshall, Boseman gives an effortless grace and presence to his King-in-making Black Panther. Michael B. Jordan is a mad dog off the leash here, and other stand-out performances include Lupita N'yongo as T'Challa's love Nakia and Forest Whitaker as Zuri, who aids T'Challa. Seeing people of color in major roles like this only serve to further empower audiences of all kinds who have been underrepresented until now. And this might be Black Panther's greatest superhuman feat.
134 minutes. 'Black Panther' is rated PG-13 for prolonged sequences of action violence, and a brief rude gesture. Now playing.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xjDjIWPwcPU
'The Long Dumb Road' Sundance Review: Jason Mantzoukas Makes "Dumb" Fun [WATCH]
The "buddy comedy" and "road movie" genre has always connected with audiences for the stories of personal growth that they inherently tell.
Previously comfortable or complacent characters who are met with obstacles that force them to recognize personal flaws, and by doing so grow from them, are movies that have a lot to offer audiences. Updating this template for the millennial generation, writer/director Hannah Fidell, whose last feature film was the steamy young love study 6 Years, takes this framework and adds a winning ingredient – funnyman Jason Mantzoukas as an unemployable drifter – to make the charming, delightful and heart-warming film The Long Dumb Road.
Taking his family’s mini-van across state lines to begin art school in Los Angeles, incoming freshman Nathan (Tony Revelori) expects nothing more than a nice drive where he can pull over and rattle off some photos on his film camera on his way to orientation, but plans change when his car breaks down. The first person Nathan meets is a very recently unemployed (quite literally quitting his job in hilariously theatrical fashion when we meet him) Richard (Mantzoukas), who puts the “manic” in “mechanic.” Nathan agrees to take Richard to his newly chosen destination – Las Vegas – as it's on the way to art school, and some company would be appreciated.
Nathan is an intelligent kid with his wits about him, collected and measured enough to bet that offering Richard a ride wouldn’t be a threat to him. The number of road beers and joints that Richard sparks, coupled with his overly braggadocios demeanor, only reveals his good-natured easy-goingness, something that Nathan realizes he could use a little more of in his own life. Of course, a number of not so enlightening incidents occur during the new friends’ journey through the American Southwest: an "almost" bar fight; disastrously reuniting with a lost love; overstepping boundaries with new flirty acquaintances (Taissa Farmiga, Grace Gummer), and getting set back by an old friend of Richard’s in a very inconveniencing way.
As he did in The Grand Budapest Hotel and more recently Spider-Man: Homecoming, Revolori shows that he’s able to hold his own against heavy-weight presences, but this time as just a young, earnest millennial without any character dressings. It's Mantzoukas who is the fuel of this movie, each of his impulsive and poor decisions more entertaining than the last. It’s a joy to see Mantzoukas, who always elevates any production he’s in as a supporting role, buddy up with a sort of adopted brother dynamic to play to his strengths as leading man.
Whereas the artfully-eyed yet heavy-handed 6 Years saw Fidell explore the somber notes that young people’s mutually exclusive relationships can bring, The Long Dumb Road (as can probably be inferred by its title alone) has almost one-hundred percent less seriousness in it (a final act triumph includes Mantzoukas attempting to defecate on an enemy’s lawn), and it’s all the more watchable for it. At a tight ninety minutes, The Long Dumb Road, co-written by Carson Mell, sees Fidell exploring her own new world– comedy. It is a much looser style then we’ve seen her embrace before, which reminds us that sometimes the best thing we can learn is to not take ourselves too seriously.
90 min. 'The Long Dumb Road' is not yet rated.
'A Futile and Stupid Gesture' Sundance Review: The Origin Story of the Irreverent National Lampoon Gets Its Due [WATCH]
While you've likely heard of the name National Lampoon, or may count Caddyshack or Animal House to be among your favorite movies, do you know who Doug Kenney is?
Until now, Kenney – the comedy genius who co-created National Lampoon – has remained mostly unknown, while the comedians that were launched from it (among them Bill Murray, Gilda Radner, and Chevy Chase) have come to overshadow Kenney's own fame. A new movie, A Futile and Stupid Gesture (now streaming on Netflix) highlights the life of Kenney and the wild rise of this new school of comedy. Both a silly send-up as well as a sentimental tribute, Futile is sure to delight both purist comedy nerds looking to get their history fix of the birth of National Lampoon as well as those just looking for some low-stakes laughs.
Based on the novel of the same name by Josh Karp, the story begins back in Doug's (Will Forte) undergrad years at Harvard, where he meets fellow wise-cracking slacker Henry Beard (Domhnall Gleeson). Together, the duo would create the first iteration of the Lampoon – a comedy collective that was "really just an excuse to party." It's Kenney who wants to keep the party going post-graduation, convincing the more level-headed Beard to create a national magazine of their irreverent comedy for all juveniles. As it turns out, there was a counter-culture of college-aged kids waiting to embrace a publication like this, whose shocking magazine covered politics and culture through raunchy comics and cheeky nudity.
It's around this time in the movie that we start to meet the people who would form National Lampoon's original writing staff (Thomas Lennon, Natasha Lyonne, Tony Hendra). One of the hilarious devices that A Futile and Stupid Gesture utilizes is a hilarious use of meta-awareness, especially when it comes to commenting on the actors who are playing the real-life comedians of Christmas past. "Modern Doug" (Martin Mull) – who would be Doug in "present day" if he was still alive – pops up like a one-man Greek chorus throughout the movie to explain such things as, how although he (Mull) and "Will Forte" both play iterations of Doug but look nothing alike, that that really doesn't matter because do we really even believe that Will Forte is even twenty-seven?
It's this level of self-reflexive non-seriousness that director David Wain (Wet Hot American Summer) wonderfully incorporates into the movie, which conjures the anarchic and playful spirit of the Lampoon and back into the movie itself. As a biography movie, Wain does service to both Kenney and the story by hitting every major milestone of the Lampoon's successes and wobbly setbacks, straddling the balance of funny and worry. The flighty Kenney moves on to bigger and grander ideas: a National Lampoon radio hour, which introduces new players Bill Murray (Jon Daly), John Belushi (John Gemberling) and Chevy Chase (Joel McHale), who would go on to star in such films like Animal House and Caddyshack.
It's around this time that A Futile and Stupid Gesture explores Kenney's darker period. It doesn't shy away from showing his crippling anxiety and growing competition (a certain late-night weekend sketch show is accused of stealing all of his players). Flashing back to a childhood Kenney experiencing the early death of his brother and internalizing feelings of inadequacy brought on by his demanding parents, he would battle with drug use that, while stimulating his own creativity, would eventually lead to his own demise.
But not to bring down the mood, as Wain and Kenney and the rest of his wild team would surely object to if they felt their story was getting too sentimental, adding further delight to the movie is a smattering of visual sequences in which Wain brings iconic Lampoon magazine covers to life right before our eyes. If Wain was attempting to bring the purest and most honest form of Kenney's story to life, then he wildly succeeded. If he was looking to make a silly, wacky comedy with a little bit of heart for audiences everywhere, then he made that too. With A Futile and Stupid Gesture, we finally see the merry madness that Doug Kenney went through in search of a laugh – however futile and stupid it may have been.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=33dztfqRu_k
101 min. 'A Futile and Stupid Gesture' is available to stream on Netflix starting this Friday, January 26th.
https://youtu.be/7HfUukHvteo
'Tyrel' Sundance Review: Racial Discomfort Explored in a Booze-Fueled Cabin Retreat With the Boys
We've all had that feeling of being out of place, of feeling uncomfortable in a group of people that you don't know.
But when that feeling of exclusion is fueled by what one attributes to be the isolation of their race, that feeling becomes an even more palpably disturbing one. Racial identity and tension also happens to be a subject matter white-hot to today's cultural conversation and is the concept that writer and director Sebastián Silva explores in his latest film, Tyrel.
The story of a man of color feeling out of place during a drunken weekend away with the boys, the easy first comparison to make might be to last year's smash horror flick Get Out – a comparison not far off when comparing both movies premises' alone. But when all is said and done, Silva's micro-budget movie doesn't deliver on any of the tension-filled threads that it teasingly dangles, which is only a little bit of a let-down knowing that Silva can do horror movies as seen in 2013's Magic Magic starring Juno Temple and Michael Cera.
However, when one sifts past the disappointment of essentially non-plot, one is able to see that Tyrel might be Silva's most rich character study yet. Silva, who shoots all of his own movies and handheld, maneuvers around freely and untethered to capture raw, authentically felt performances from each of his actors, who are among some of the best young actors working in film today. And while Tyrel also feels like the most limited in scope compared to his other films, this style of quick and dirty film-making lends well to Silva's preference to make movies with his friends on the cheap.
An altogether dude-fest of a movie, Tyrel explores what it feels like to be the odd man out. Tyler (Jason Mitchell) – not Tyrel, as new acquaintances mistakenly call him upon botched introductions – agrees to a weekend away with friends of a friend (Christopher Abbott) where he meets the birthday boy (Caleb Landry Jones) and rest of the guys, all buffoonish dudes fuming out leftover college partying as they pour whiskey and roll joints, leaving Tyler to smile sheepishly along.
Those who have seen Silva's movies know that he works quickly and cheaply, so it's hard to knock a film like this for being anything more than a time spent with friends.
More friends arrive (all white, or Chiléan) including Alan (Michael Cera), a wealthy jerk who touches on race in the movie's more obvious moments – he wears a wet-suit and jokes to the group that he's the second person of color at the party – to which Tyler's discomfort is felt further, prompting him to outrace the gang in consuming more Irish coffees and joints and end up in dizzying paranoia.
Tyrel executes on the sense of isolation and feeling out of place, but the evidence supports that the movie isn't exactly politically charged with overt racism (thinly veiled racism?) that the friends evoke. Really, frat-boy machismo energy is the main offender here, and I would actually be hard-pressed to find a woman who didn't feel isolated themselves watching this male-aggression movie in what might be an ironic twist. Notably, Tyrel's entry into this year's U.S. Dramatic Competition category at Sundance makes Silva the first person to have a movie play in all six major categories at the festival, which might end up being the film's most noteworthy accomplishment.
86 min. 'Tyrel' is not yet rated.
'Phantom Thread' Review: A Beguiling Romance With a Twist
Love can be quite intoxicating. So can Paul Thomas Anderson movies.
Anderson's natural cinephile sensibilities have allowed him to make some of the very best films of all time. Seemingly drawing straight from the well of pure cinema, his films are dazzling masterpieces that seep deeply into the audiences’ subconscious and only get better the more they are thought about.
Set in the high fashion world of post-war London, Phantom Thread is the story of an obsessive dressmaker (Daniel Day-Lewis) and the woman he meets who tames him until a rocky disruption ensues that forces each to see how essential they are to the other. An absolutely gorgeous work and a rich feast for the eyes, this period piece is one that deserves to be seen on the big screen.
One thing that separates Phantom Thread from Anderson's other films is that it's Anderson himself who's behind the camera for this movie, here he assumes director of photography duties as well as directing. When you're able to operate the camera, pick the lenses and make your own lighting decisions, you are exacting full control to execute your vision, as he does here.
Reynolds Woodcock (Day-Lewis) knows a thing or two about the necessity of control when it comes to creating his works of art. And with that, comes his need for perfection, irritable if otherwise. Mercilessly meticulous in realizing his vision, it's his sister Cyril (Lesley Manville) who takes to tempering his frustrations while she helps him run the business. Woodcock may, in fact, be the character that most closely mirrors Anderson himself, the commentary on his own artistic sensibilities (and shortcomings) as a perfectionist auteur. He shows that creating such beautiful pieces often comes from a joyless place.
If we are to believe [Daniel Day-Lewis'] statement that this is indeed his final screen performance, then it is a fantastic one to leave behind.
This makes the introduction of Alma (Vicky Krieps) one that inspires Woodcock. He has had other muses before – one is seen before the arrival of Alma – but it's Alma that we find is his match, and whose presence in his life of consuming routine and ritual slowly frays at the seams. Woodcock tries to live his life of narcissistic vanity in his undisturbed artistry, but Alma disrupts this vision before the movie reveals its screwball story that forces Reynolds and Alma to realize how much they need each other.
His most reduced story yet, Phantom Thread is carried by the beguiling performances of the two lovers. The performance that Day-Lewis exacts as Woodcock in control and restraint is as exact as any craftsman. If we are to believe his statement that this is indeed his final screen performance, then it is a fantastic one to leave behind. Vicky Krieps as Alma is a presence that can suck the air right out of a room, her face communicating exactly what she's thinking.
The allure of a PTA film is that there is always more then meets the eye. Interestingly, this is a detail that is manifested in the film- Woodcock sews names and words into the linings of his pieces, blesses them or just a creates a sneaky secret that no one will ever know. These codes can leave any critic endlessly intrigued.
Phantom Thread turns out to be a phantom of a film itself, leaving a mysterious and lasting impression that will continue to occupy the mind long after its watch. Creeping darkness and growing tension make this love story one that will sit quite well next to its peers.
Phantom Thread is 130 minutes. Rated R for language. Now playing at the Landmark and ArcLight Hollywood.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xNsiQMeSvMk
Ryan's Top 10 Films of 2017
Any year in which I see even just one film that blows me away, I consider being a "good" year in film. Looking back on 2017, I can once again re-affirm this belief to be true. From the smart, big-scale event movies from stylish auteurs, to the unexpected indie breakouts that also counted as those directors' debut feature films, to dazzling Awards-aimed movies that left me totally floored, I am happy to say that this year in film was as powerful as it was eclectic. Below are the top ten films that defined the year in movies for me, and ones that I hope you'll consider checking out.
10. I Don't Feel at Home in This World Anymore
I'm including I Don't Feel at Home in This World Anymore on this list for a few reasons. Foremost, it holds a special place in my heart as it was the Grand Jury Prize winner (Sundance's top award) that I managed to see at this year's Sundance Film Festival. Also, I don't believe everyone saw this wacky blood-bath of a movie, which I'd love to put on more people's radars. The directorial debut from Macon Blair is a mash-up of Tarantino wit and violence but also manages to be a truly funny and heartfelt movie with a fantastic lead performance from Melanie Lynskey. An excerpt from my original review below:
Macon Blair’s comedy-thriller I Don’t Feel at Home in This World Anymore won the coveted Grand Jury Prize after leaving audiences in stitches with its raucous tonal mixings of genuinely side-splitting comedy and shock-violence action that plays like an indie grindhouse comedy. [It's] a true belly laugh of a film, and the perfect choice for when you want to watch a weirdly hilarious and insane movie.
Read our full 'I Don't Feel At Home In This World Anymore' review here.
9. Jim & Andy: The Great Beyond - Featuring a Very Special, Contractually Obligated Mention of Tony Clifton
I first saw Man on the Moon, the 1999 Andy Kaufman biopic starring Jim Carrey as the late-comedian, in high school. But what I, along with everyone else who saw that film, didn't see were the lengths that Carrey went through to play Kaufman, as when the cameras would cut, he would continue to "be" Kaufman in a performance that bordered between method and madness. Now a new documentary, Jim & Andy: The Great Beyond, reveals the previously unseen footage that was shot behind-the-scenes in which Carrey's reality-bending antics disrupted the production at every turn. Countered with a present-day and very-bearded Carrey, in which he entertains the idea that his eccentric aspirations served as fantasy escape at a time when Carrey’s star power was burning brightest, Jim & Andy: The Great Beyond is more than a making-of movie; it's one of the most interesting explorations of an artist and ego exploring identities and how we construct them. And with Carrey in the driver's seat, it's hilarious.
Read our full 'Jim & Andy: The Great Beyond' review here.
8. Lady Bird
I might have related to Lady Bird more than any other film this year and looking at its numbers to date, I know I’m not alone. The debut feature film from director Greta Gerwig received the year’s highest Rotten Tomatoes rating and has edged ahead of last year's Best Picture winner, Moonlight, to also become A24’s highest grossing film. The semi-autobiographic story of a spunky high school senior is one of the most sincere, funny, and heartfelt films of the year – just like Gerwig herself. An excerpt from my original review below:
"Lady Bird is infectiously funny and so pure-spirited that it will leave you emotionally complete. The laughs ring true, and so does the heartache and despondency. If directorial debuts are the best revelation of the true spirit of the filmmaker, then it should come as no surprise that Greta Gerwig’s first feature film soars."
Read our full 'Lady Bird' review here.
7. Baby Driver
Edgar Wright returned to the big screen this year to make his biggest studio movie to date, which was also one of the most impossibly cool films I saw in theaters all year. An adrenaline-pumping asphalt-burner from the opening scene, Baby Driver tells the story of Baby (Ansel Elgort), a young getaway driver who’s a devil behind the wheel, but only when he queues up the perfect song on his iPod for his car chases – an element that Wright has endless fun playing with as he himself is known for creating perfect musical moments in his films. If you didn't catch this blisteringly cool film in theaters, then I recommend queuing up Baby Driver as soon as you can – and sitting as close to the screen as you can when you do. Don't forget to buckle up.
Read our full 'Baby Driver' review here.
6. Dina
I missed seeing this documentary at the Sundance Film Festival (where it would go on to win the Grand Jury Prize in the Documentary category). I subsequently proceeded to miss it when it screened at LA's NEXT Fest (presented by Sundance), and finally missed all of the film’s press screenings. When I finally got my hands on a screener DVD (thank you, anonymous Academy member), I expected that I had missed my opportunity to see this film play in the best setting possible. What I soon realized as I began watching this gem of a film is that the magic of Dina, a documentary following an eccentric woman and her evolving relationship with a Walmart door-greeter, is in its intimacy, which resonates in settings of all sizes. Dina is beautiful in both its visuals – it's restricted and locked down camera with zero movement makes it feel so deliberate as to feel like a narrative comedy – and in its breakthrough story revealing the human condition of wanting to find love, and be loved in return.
5. Get Out
I didn’t get around to seeing Get Out for what was likely weeks after word-of-mouth had already surrounded the film. But when I finally headed to theaters to see it, I was stunned to see that first-time feature filmmaker Jordan Peele had masterfully executed this horror flick for the masses, expertly blending the very best cinematic elements to create one of the most fearless, bonkers, head-spinningly inventive films of the year. Get Out also aspired to be more than throwaway popcorn-entertainment, wrapping up a silly scary movie premise in a politically-relevant message that successfully transports audiences of all kinds and colors into the experience of being a person of color in today's America, which can bring a profound helplessness that is the scariest experience of all.
4. Dunkirk
It's no revelation to say that Christopher Nolan is one of the most important people making movies of our time. The mind behind such grandly ambitious blockbuster films as The Dark Knight trilogy as well as wildly inventive films of Kubrickian inspiration such and Interstellar, Nolan continues to advance the art form with each film he makes. Dunkirk is just the latest example of what makes a Nolan film absolutely brilliant: complex narrative structure, in-camera action sequences, and all captured on the biggest film cameras made while still being four-quadrant films. Telling this war story of helpless British forces awaiting rescue in triptych fashion, capturing three different moments of time in three different time relations makes Dunkirk a gamble of a story. It should be recognized that Dunkirk stands as the most riveting, most immersive, most ambitious film of the year.
Read our full 'Dunkirk' review here.
3. Call Me By Your Name
Based on the novel of the same name, Call Me By Your Name manages to do the impossible things that often make a novel so unique and special, which is to bring the subtleties of the page to life in such a detailed and exact way that it not only elicits the tone but creates an intimate experience between reader and material. Taking place over one summer in the Italian countryside in 1983, the film follows young teen (Timothée Chalamet) as he finds himself slowly courting the older student (Armie Hammer) who comes to stay with his family to study under his father (Michael Stuhlbarg), and finds the feelings are soon reciprocated. Moments of shared bike rides, swims, and more deliver some of the finest moments captured in film. Stuhlbarg gives one of the best final monologues in film, Hammer has never been better, and Chalamet delivers a brilliant performance that should usher him into being one of tomorrow's brightest stars. One of the most beautiful films of the year in both visuals and story, Call Me By Your Name is one of the finest made films of the year.
Read our full 'Call Me By Your Name' review here.
2. Phantom Thread
Paul Thomas Anderson (known simply as PTA by his fans) seems to draw straight from the well of pure cinema when he makes his films, leaving me an intoxicated mess each time (making him the best bartender in town for my money). From the very first frames of his latest film, Phantom Thread, I felt myself turning into pure mush, each frame of his high fashion couture world more beautifully composed than the next. Set in the fine, posh world of post-war London (a full swivel away from the pot-stenched Gordita Beach of his last film, Inherent Vice), Phantom Thread is PTA's most reduced story in quite some time. At its simplest, it's a love story between a man – renowned yet obsessive dressmaker Reginald Woodcock (Daniel Day-Lewis) – and a woman – beguiling waitress Alma (Vicky Krieps) who he meets during a stop in the countryside. But like any PTA film, there's so much more than meets the eye, thematically and otherwise. Beyond this classic love story that evokes the classic feel of a David Lean or Hitchcockian romance, exacted with beautiful camera composition (in which PTA assumes camera operating duties) and captivating performances (Day-Lewis' final film, if you believe his retirement claims), is a creeping darkness and growing tension that leaves a mysterious and lasting impression that still occupies my mind. Like all PTA films, it's one that I know that I will be returning to multiple times.
1. The Florida Project
Imagine if The Little Rascals took place within a string of budget motels located outside Disney World and you have The Florida Project, the most triumphant statement on childhood since 2014’s Boyhood. Following a group of youngsters over one unsupervised summer as they run, play, and altogether cause mischief around the extended stay motels where they live, writer and director Sean Baker’s second feature film is a masterful exercise in dichotomy. Juxtaposing beautiful moments of kids running towards rainbows and celebrating fireworks in the low-income environment where vices and dangers loom large, Baker reveals the fantasy against the harsh reality of their lives. Willem Dafoe, as maintenance worker Bobby, is subtle and stunning. But it’s the spunky six-year-old Brooklynn Prince who steals the show as spirited youngster Moonee, whose boundless energy reminds us that the make-believe and innocence of childhood inevitably ends, but should be cherished while it’s here.
Read our full 'The Florida Project' review here.
Honorable Mentions: mother!, Jane, Logan Lucky
Not yet viewed: Good Time, The Square, Loveless
'All The Money In the World' Review: True Story of Kidnapped Getty Heir is Brought to the Big Screen
It's not likely that you've heard of All the Money in the World, the true-life story of the kidnapping of a Getty heir, without also hearing of the off-screen drama that has accompanied the film.
Sexual misconduct allegations against the film's main star – Kevin Spacey – sent the movie into crisis mode only weeks before the film was scheduled to open.
In an unprecedented move, director Ridley Scott decided to cut Spacey out of the movie altogether – a head-spinning decision since the actor had not only completed all of his scenes but because Scott announced that the film would also still meet its scheduled release date in the coming weeks. This feat would be accomplished by re-shooting the movie with Oscar-winning actor Christopher Plummer in Spacey’s vacated role. This race-against-the-clock, behind-the-scenes story no doubt has as much suspense as the material on which it's based.
The inevitable question that the movie won't ever be able to escape from is, how does the film, also starring Michelle Williams and Mark Wahlberg, hold together? With a screenplay by David Scarpa, based on a novel by John Pearson, All the Money in the World holds together surprisingly well. This big studio movie is certainly ambitious in scope, as Scott takes the film across continents with action, period piece designs, and a smart screenplay that provokes the audience to think. All the Money in the World tells the true story of kidnapped sixteen-year-old Getty heir J. Paul Getty III (Charlie Plummer) and the ransom race led by his mother, Gail Harris (Williams) and family advisor Fletcher Chase (Wahlberg) against the foreign kidnappers as well as her miserly father-in-law, J. Paul Getty (Christopher Plummer, no relation to Charlie).
Ironically, the shared symbolism is that the story of the former star of 'All the Money in the World,' like Getty himself, reflects powerful men being brought to their knees.
The drama, of course, comes in J.Paul Getty’s decision not to pay Paul’s $17 million ransom. For a man who at one time was considered to be "the most wealthy man in the world," paying the ransom for the safe return of his grandson would seem to be the obvious decision. It's a psychological study that Scott is interested in exploring here, showing Getty as a man who didn't get to be where he was by conceding or being bested in any way, whether in business or in a hostage negotiation with his family. As Getty, Plummer brings light-hearted, unaffected poise and power to his character. Simultaneously confounded and enraged is Gail, who can't understand why this man won't pay for her son’s safety. Williams' resilience and focus keep the film moving forward.
For a hostage movie, All the Money in the World isn't as much white-knuckle tension as it is more a broad character and period piece. There are certainly a number of moments that will make impressions on viewers, and the final sequence of the film in which Getty arises out of bed to take a precious painting off a wall is one of the best sequences in cinema I've seen all year. It reminds us that Scott is a master of his craft, and at eighty-years-old, is one of the few filmmakers who not only commands a production as big as this but can handle any obstacles that would end the career of other filmmakers. Ironically, the shared symbolism is that the story of the former star of All the Money in the World, like Getty himself, reflects powerful men being brought to their knees.
132 min. 'All the Money in the World' is rated R for language, some violence, disturbing images and brief drug content.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KXHrCBkIxQQ
'Star Wars: The Last Jedi' Review: It's Still a Jedi-Level Task to Balance the Old With the New
I am very aware that my writing a review for this movie may largely be a pointless exercise.
The good majority of you may not even make it to this sentence, whether for very worthwhile reasons of not wishing to come upon any spoilers (none here) or just already knowing that you'll be seeing this movie anyway, so why bother with cluttering your head with someone else's opinions ahead of time? The valiant film critic presses on in the hopes that providing primer thoughts will enhance your epic viewing experience.
Actually, here's a spoiler: in Star Wars: The Last Jedi, there are these things called "porgs" which are these little land creatures with the biggest eyes you've ever seen and cutest caw you've ever heard. These porgs live on the island where we last saw new Jedi Rey (Daisy Ridley) locate the mythic Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill) in hopes of having the recluse train her in the ways of The Force at the end of this trilogy's reboot, The Force Awakens. Seriously, these little things' DNA seems to be "the most freaking adorable little things that exist in all of space," – like if a penguin mated with Grumpy Cat (eat your heart out, BB-8).
But what are the porgs' relevance to The Last Jedi, a mostly fan-servicing second act in the rebooted trilogy? Well, their inclusion to this story points to a line that Dark Side of The Force pledge Kylo Ren (Adam Driver) speaks in the movie (don't worry people, it's in the trailer too): "Let the past die." While Kylo's moody plea to get Rey to leave all previous allegiances to the Rebellion, the Jedi – whatever have you – and join him in a galactic takeover, it's a sentiment that couldn't be further from the commercially minded intentions that Emperor Disney has laid out in their new ownership of the Star Wars universe. While the porgs might be cute eye candy to add another level of new to this story, the story itself is nearly note-for-note exact to where George Lucas' original trilogy tracked with The Empire Strikes Back, here remixed for a new generation. In this reboot in this galaxy of "far far away" land, we know where we've been and we know where we're going.
As a lifelong Star Wars fan (who brought his light-sabers into the theaters when the prequels were released), I'm happy to report that The Last Jedi doesn't not satisfy Star Wars fans.
Much like Empire, The Last Jedi also advances two different pieces across the chess board: the story of young Jedi-in-training Rey and the deterioration of the Rebellion fighters, here matched against General Hux (Domhnall Gleeson) and Supreme Leader Snoke (a CGI Andy Serkis). However, the struggle is in the great balancing of all things in this universe from all moments in time: the balancing of the old and the new, of clunky duty and inspired new discovery. To this end, more characters are added to this fight: There's the return of our old-old favorites – Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill), sister General Leia Organa (Carrie Fisher, in her final role with much to do); our new-old favorites – Jedi-in-training Rey (Daisy Ridley), Finn (John Boyega) and Poe (Oscar Isaac) who continue to lead The Resistance; and our new-new favorites – Vice Admiral Amilyn Holdo (Laura Dern), huckster DJ (Benicio Del Toro) and Resistance fighter Rose (Kelly Marie Tran). All characters continue to lock into the grid in neat configurations, but like a kid with their growing number of toys, when you go to pick up one set of action figures, the quicker you must also put them down to keep playing with the rest. And really, the table is only so big to fit everything to begin with.
It's all a task that would make a service droid like R2-D2's head spin. But Jedi Master Rian Johnson, who has announced that he will be writing and directing a new trilogy of Star Wars films after The Last Jedi (are new faces teased in this film?), shows he has enough directorial vision and force to take over piloting duties the J.J. Abrams got off the ground with The Force Awakens (interestingly enough, Abrams is set to return to land the ship with the conclusion of the final film). It's only a bit of a let-down to feel how Disney-fied the Star Wars world now is (it's a lot funnier then I thought it would be), really Johnson is beholden to keep this ship on its trajectory of another classic Joseph Campbell penned hero's journey.
At the end of the day, I guess I'm not trying to say that The Last Jedi is not a fun space epic. As a lifelong Star Wars fan (who brought his light-sabers into the theaters when the prequels were released), I'm happy to report that The Last Jedi doesn't not satisfy Star Wars fans. In fact, there are a good number of images and sequences that suck the air right from the room and are sure to make fans do back-flips in their chairs. While it feels so fully-stuffed that it all might just explode like any of the endless spaceships here do and whose remains must now float and litter the world above, The Last Jedi, like its porgs, adds enough new fun here to reach its end.
. 'Star Wars: The Last Jedi' is rated PG-13 for sequences of sci-fi action and violence.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q0CbN8sfihY