“Hero” is a revered term that, regrettably, is often overused, one that should be reserved for those truly deserving of the recognition. What’s more, somewhat surprisingly, it’s a label that is frequently most applicable to those who may not seem like the larger-than-life figures to whom it’s most usually accorded. But, in the case of actor and activist Christopher Reeve (1952-2004), “hero” is an attribute most definitely warranted. Having burst onto the scene in the lead role of “Superman” (1978), he embodied the very notion of movie superhero, a character whose uplifting impact was definitely needed in a society deflated by many daunting challenges at the time. He would subsequently draw upon his success in this film as a springboard to a variety of other, more diverse roles, such as the lead in pictures like the mystical romance “Somewhere in Time” (1980) and the mystery thriller “Deathtrap” (1982), as well as a supporting part in the historical drama “The Remains of the Day” (1993). However, his life took a drastic turn in 1995, when he was nearly fatally injured in an equestrian accident that rendered him a paraplegic. The shock of the incident required a period of difficult adjustment for Reeve, but it would not ultimately deter him from carrying on in various pursuits with the unflinching support of his family and wife, Dana (1961-2006). He returned to acting in a made-for-TV version of “Rear Window” (1998) and assumed directorial responsibilities for the TV movies “In the Gloaming” (1997) and “The Brooke Ellison Story” (2004). He also became an ardent advocate for spinal cord injury care and research that gave hope – and, later, positive results – to many afflicted with this condition, leading to the establishment of an immensely successful charitable foundation and the passage of federal legislation bearing his and Dana’s names for furthering these worthy causes. Reeve’s inspiring story is now the subject of this new DC/HBO/CNN documentary from writer-directors Ian Bonhôte and Peter Ettedgui. It features a wealth of archive footage from interviews with the actor, family home movies and clips from his screen and stage performances, along with a variety of current and past conversations with his three children and his many friends and colleagues in the entertainment industry, including Robin Williams, Susan Sarandon, Whoopi Goldberg, Glenn Close, Jeff Daniels and director Richard Donner. Admittedly, the narrative can become somewhat redundant at times, suggesting the need for some judicious editing, but this release provides viewers with an insightful and heartfelt look at the values and virtues that made Reeve who he was – a true hero and a bona fide super man.
Unlike many retrospectives of late lamented actors, this film has a much greater degree of honesty from it's contributors as it takes a look back at the life of the man most famous for darting about in a blue cape saving the world from Gene Hackman and Terence Stamp. It also benefits from being about a man and his family whose lives have been captured to quite an extent by home movies that illustrate the joyous, and heinous, moments as he rose to fame then struggled to come to terms with his life-altering accident. What we are given here is a frank portrayal of an actor - maybe not the most versatile, it has to be said - who tread the boards off, off-Broadway before lucking out at the audition in London the made him an household name. The principal narrative is provided by those closest to him - his long-term ex-girlfriend Gae Exton, the mother of their children Matt and Ali and by Will, his son with Reeve's profoundly stoical and steadfast wife Dana. There is also some insight from Jeff Daniels, Whoopi Goldberg and Glenn Close - and there is an interesting degree of frankness from these people that also touches on issues faced by some of their mutual friends. Though sympathetic and celebratory, these comments are not entirely adulatory. Indeed, his elder son offers us some thinly veiled criticism of a man who maybe didn't focus as he could have on his first family, and who had a reputation as a bit of a rake at times, too. The documentary quite successfully uses more archive to demonstrate this family's determination after his paralysis to do what could be done to raise awareness and funds to improve treatment and support for others. Apparently some 4 million Americans have some sort of disability and in trying to address this, he demonstrates the power of celebrity to stretch far beyond symbolism proving that political connections, pressure and principle can make a profound difference to situations that many would sooner sweep under the carpet. It's not always easy to watch - but then neither were many of his films - but it does make it's point effectively, avoids sentimentality for the most part, and tells us a story of a flawed man whose sheer willpower and charisma helped create a testament the others may still be befitting from decades later.
With some sort of global apocalypse having occurred up top, a family have taken refuge deep inside a salt mine where dad’s previous profession in the energy sector has ensured that they live a civilised and well appointed life. With Reubens and Rembrandt augmenting their oak-clad walls, Michael Shannon and Tilda Swinton have brought up their son, George MacKay, with the help of her best friend Bronagh Gallagher, a doctor (Lennie James) and their gay butler (Tim McInnerny). They spend their days rehearsing for disaster scenarios and rearranging their home, whilst the son writes a memoir for his father that marries an (environmental) history of the world with a curiously slanted homage to the efforts made by his father to provide unlimited cheap energy to the masses! Then one day, this Elysian dream becomes compromised by the arrival of a young girl (Moses Ingram) and that puts them into a quandary. Do they let her stay or do they evict her back from whence she came? If she stays, how might she upset the dynamic amongst a family who have clearly only a wafer thin sheen over a multitude of issues from their respective pasts that have largely been forgotten for then twenty-odd years they have lived their subterranean existences? There is singing, and a lot of singing - and with the possible exception of Ingram, none of them are very good at it. That doesn’t matter, though, as the score from Marius de Vries and Josh Schmidt combines just about everything from Rachmaninov and Gershwin to Lloyd-Webber, Rice, Pasek & Pau. Once your ears get used to the sometimes grimace-inducing falsetto of an enthusiastic MacKay and an on-form but fairly tuneless Swinton then this actually works quite entertainingly. Gallagher can always be relied upon to add a little vitality to a story and McInnerny also knows how to ham things up (just as he did in “Gladiator II”) to good effect, too. The timelines jump now and again, but never by much and it has quite a quirky effect on the delivery as characters appear to, well, disappear, at the end of the scene. MacKay steals this for me, delivering a role that reminded me a little of Luke Treadaway’s Olivier award winning stage effort as “Christopher” from “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time”. His journey to adulthood being tempered by a very slightly autistic characterisation; a dependant relationship with his mother and his own clearly awakening hormonal desires, too. It’s long, and at times can be a bit hit or miss - but generally it does flow along well, in a very theatrically staged fashion and if you are looking to see something that takes just about everyone from their comfort zone, then this might be for you.
Super dumb, yet it somehow kinda worked for me.
'Arthur’s Whisky' is a very low budget picture, I mean just look at that unintentionally hilarious attempt at portraying a visit to Las Vegas (!!). The plot is very silly and, obviously, nonsensical but in the end I kinda dug it, to be honest. The film does plateau at around the hour mark, though the heartfelt conclusion brought it back to win me over.
I guessed the general vibe (slow paced story of oldies being oldies) of this movie based on the poster and I was mostly correct, though the opening minutes of this made it look like a proper adventure/fantasy was on the way - it evidently wasn't, so quite the jarring beginning!
Diane Keaton, Patricia Hodge and Lulu lead onscreen events and the trio do well enough, as a three they worked better than they did individually. What actually probably helped this for me was the three that played their youngers. Genevieve Gaunt, Esme Lonsdale and Hannah Howland are good. Adil Ray's whole subplot with Lulu/Howland is very cringe, mind you.
Looking around, this has not been received all that positively - though a deeper look around does suggest a more even split of opinion, it does work for some. Just look at that expired tomato website - 80%/14% for critics/audience! Fascinating, really.
Though there is no evidence that this meeting ever actually happened, it does make for quite an intriguing premise. Renowned, but ailing, psychoanalyst Sigmund Freud (Sir Anthony Hopkins) invites Oxford University professor C.S. "Jack" Lewis (Matthew Goode) for a conversation. The latter man is late which irks his host, especially when his daughter Anna (Liv Lisa Fries) has to leave him to go to work and he is running out of the medicine (morphine) that he uses to control the pain from his advancing mouth cancer. Initially slated for the shortest of chats, the two men - who take completely opposing views on the subject of God's existence - start to bond a little. Their conversation is conducted behind a veneer of politeness, but at times is quite intellectually brutal. It's these few scenes that set the thing on fire, and the quick-wittedness of both men does raise a smile, and a thought or two too. Thing is, there just aren't enough of them to sustain what is otherwise a rather messily conceived drama that sort of meanders along with too many hmphs and shrugs, the obligatory series of laughs from Sir Anthony and a disappointing paucity of actual rigorous debate. Way too much time is languished on his daughter's relationship with Dorothy Burlingham (Jodi Balfour) - and of her father's disapproval of it, and though flashback's of Lewis's Great War trauma do add context, it's all rather underused in explaining just why this erstwhile atheist became a convert of some fervency. It's all nicely staged - but maybe that's where it ought to be seen. A three act play using a few well decorated rooms and some rainy sound effects. The two men work well together on screen, but it's still too much of a missed opportunity for us to wallow a bit more in the complex and sometimes quite humorous views of these two sophisticated intellectuals - and that's a shame.
Near the end of his life in 1939, Sigmund Freud (Anthony Hopkins) held one last session at his London home after fleeing the encroaching Nazi oppression in his native Vienna. At that time, just as the German blitzkrieg against Poland was beginning, Freud is said to have met with an Oxford scholar, believed to be author and theologian C.S. Lewis (Matthew Goode), in a lengthy session in which the duo discussed a variety of subjects. In writer-director Matt Brown’s hypothetical meeting between them, viewers witness the two visionaries debate such topics as atheism vs. faith, science vs. religion/spirituality, the nature of fear, their respective backgrounds (including the personal demons that have haunted them) and their relationships with family members (particularly Freud’s arm’s-length connection with his lesbian daughter, Anna (Liv Lisa Fries)), among others. Their conversations are both mesmerizing and revelatory, uncovering aspects of each of them that most of us probably never knew. And, in the process, it becomes apparent that this session was as much for Freud’s benefit as it was for Lewis, given that the good doctor was in the late stages of oral cancer and contemplating how to make peace with his impending death. The dialogues between the two delve into some very heady material, the kind of discussions that movies rarely, if ever, deal with in such depth, especially as pointedly and insightfully as they’re depicted here. Their byplay is intercut with a series of flashbacks, providing the back story about how they each arrived at their respective points in their lives, leaving little doubt as to where they were coming from, as well as why they each harbored inherently conflicting viewpoints that led them both to continually question the nature of their lives, their existence and their place in the Universe. And making all of this work are the stellar performances of Hopkins and Goode, both of whom are in top form here. Admittedly, there are some hiccups in the flow of the narrative at times, but, given the richness and depth of their exchanges, these bumpy little glitches are easily overlooked in favor of the magnitude of what viewers receive in return. Those looking for “entertaining” fare are likely to be disappointed by this offering. But those seeking material that’s “enriching” and substantive will find “Freud’s Last Session” a thoughtful and engaging watch, one that’s certain to give pause about life’s bigger questions and how they apply to us, all in the hope of providing deeper meaning into why we’re here and what this thing called life is all about.
I lasted forty-five minutes with this one.
The premise was intriguing, and the semi-low score could easily be attributed to people finding a slow-pace talkie boring, or people on either side of the theist/atheist aisle being offended.
As an atheist, who was brought up Christian, and who enjoys debates on religiosity between intelligent opponents, this seemed right up my alley. And I do like Anthony Hopkins. Especially since his absolutely stellar career-peaking performance in The Father (watch it if you haven't, and DO NOT read the synopsis or any review before you do).
Unfortunately, it starts out really poorly, with the virtual Freud incorrectly attributing the virtual Einstein with the 21st-century internet meme, "The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results."
I don't blame the average memecow for repeating this nonsense, let alone attributing it to Einstein, as the number of clowns repeating it seems to be exponentially increasing. It's now even reached "Freud" via Anthony Hopkins on screen.
But it doesn't bode well that writers of a movie about Freud and C.S. Lewis meeting up to debate the existence of the Christian god would be so ignorant to think that someone like Einstein would utter such nonsense. They're not even considering it to the point of googling "did Einstein really say this thing? did he not have a dictionary? it seems really odd that someone this smart would say something this dumb reddit."
But I carry on, trying to shake it off. It's a minor thing, it can still be good, it's still Hopkins. But some 35 minutes later, I just can't anymore. There isn't even any debate. I was actually hoping for 105 minutes of "Freud" and "Lewis" just talking in an office. Sort of like The King's Speech. It works when there's something to talk about, and HELLO! The existence of god? Debated by Freud and Lewis? YES, PLEASE! WHERE TO PUT MY MONEY?
But no, they have hardly addressed a debate point forty-five minutes in. It's just a bunch of pointless and historically inaccurate flashbacks, mostly boring, some hilariously inaccurate, like Freud as a child when his Muslim father kicks out his Christian mom with a "THERE IS NO HEAVEN!" because Freud crossed his chest, then shouts at Freud to never pray again. I mean, I laughed heartily, but seriously? Is this another meme thing that some internet clowns are saying like that "Einstein quote?" And if so, please, someone tell these people that you can google questions and get answers. Like, you can google and find out that Freud's parents were Jewish. I mean, COME ON! XD
[Edit: Come to think of it, I think they actually don't know that Freud was Jewish, because I just remembered a scene with C.S. Lewish finding a joke of Freud's featuring two Jewish guys at a bathhouse "as funny as a hanging," because insert 21st-century-offense-taken ideology in this 1940s timeline, WITH FREUD HIMSELF BEING JEWISH! OMG]
These boring and dumb flashbacks are then interspersed with "Freud" having a toothache and spewing lame quotations, while being incredibly abrasive, rude, and obnoxious, so as to make "Lewis" seem more virtuous.
This movie is what happens when dumb and historically ignorant script writers who don't understand dialogue and debating have their moms tell them that surely they can write anything, they're brilliant, just brilliant.
It's absolutely insufferable, factually and historically inaccurate, boring and contrived, and an incredible let-down if you went, "Wow, a discussion on theism between the brilliant minds of Sigmund Freud and C.S. Lewis. This I gotta see!"
I wasn't even aware that Freud was an atheist, or at least an outspoken one. Was he? Well, I'll have to ask google, because these clowns know nothing.
Avoid. Go watch The Father instead. And remember not to read what it's about if you don't know already. It makes it almost twice as good.
Alice Lowe did virtually everything in this quirky drama about the immortal "Agnes" who travels through time desperate to reunite with an highwayman (Aneurin Bernard) who robbed her sometime in the 17th century. Snag is - every time she manages to engineer a scenario when they can be together, she ends up dead! We reset, and moving steadily through time we encounter her in different guises and him likewise evolving, ultimately into a jaded rock star. Along the way, she is guided by the omnipresent "Scipio" (Jacob Anderson) who plays a role similar to one of Shakespeare's fools, by her maid/best pal "Meg" (Tanya Reynolds) and slightly bonkers husband (Nick Frost) as loads of daft adventures ensue. It's a sort of hybrid of Peter Greenaway meets Terry Gilliam this, with shades of "Monty Python" as the humour has a slapstick goriness to it that starts off quite funny but all too quickly runs out of steam. Indeed, this really is the problem with this, It's more of a short story that's been drawn out to fill ninety minutes. Once the point has been made and the joke established, it seems content just to shift the timeline and then tell us a similar story all over again. I did like the premiss, and there's no doubt that Lowe does have some good comedy timing at the start as her hate-hate rapport with her rakish husband is demonstrated, but Bernard was always more about his smile than his skill and sadly the whole thing just faded away. Zach Wyatt is quite entertaining as the dubious tarot reader but in the end it's too close to a rather weak farce for me.
Alice Lowe’s Timestalker initially grabbed my attention with its promising premise—especially since I had really enjoyed her previous film, Prevenge. The quirky and darkly comic style Lowe brought to that project had me expecting another sharp, unique movie here. Unfortunately, despite its inventive concept, Timestalker ran out of steam much earlier than I hoped.
The idea of a time-travelling love obsession spanning centuries should offer a lot of comedic material. Still, the film quickly exhausts its best jokes, leaving a narrative that lacks momentum. While there are some fun moments early on, and Lowe’s distinctive style is clear, the pacing feels uneven, and much of the humour doesn’t sustain itself throughout the film. I wanted to love this as much as Prevenge, but Timestalker didn’t quite deliver on its potential.
I almost warmed to it by its conclusion, but I don't think I can describe 'The Dead Don’t Hurt' as anything that I rate well.
I found no interest in anything that was onscreen, disappointingly. The story failed to grab me and the characters that portray it aren't at a good standard either, in my opinion of course. Vicky Krieps does her best and is probably the movie's standout. I do like Garret Dillahunt, albeit from other performances from his career - which seems to be seeing him typecast in these sorta roles, which is a bit of a shame.
Pre-watch, I wanted to enjoy this - westerns can be a lot of fun, especially on the big screen - but this just didn't deliver for me personally.
Despite the fact that the plot has plenty of holes, this western just about works. It's all about the determined "Vivienne" (Vicky Krieps), very much a woman in a man's world of pioneering in the 1860s. She encounters the honest and thoughtful "Olsen" (Viggo Mortensen) and travels to his remote, and rather ramshackle, shack where they begin to make an home for themselves. He takes a job as their sheriff and she, a little to his chagrin, starts working in the saloon. He is restless, though, and with the American civil war looming large, he decides that he ought to use his Danish army training and go enlist. She's not enamoured of the idea, but off he goes and that leaves her alone and firmly in the sights of spoilt local "Weston" (the rather un-menacing Solly McLeod). When "Olsen" returns from the war quite a few years later he is presented with a few shocks! Subsequent events take an even more tragic turn, and now he must face his demons and settle accounts. This is a grand looking romantic drama that takes it's time to get going and that allows Krieps to invest strongly in the maturing elements of her character. That he would just saunter off for years and leave her alone and unprotected does beggar belief a bit, and there's no denying that does negatively impact on the plausibility of what, rather obviously, comes next. Still, there is enough meat on the bones of the story, an effectively sparing amount of dialogue and a soupçon of chemistry between the two at the top of the cast that gives some indication of just how tough and lawless life was and at how difficult it was to be decent!
A horrible movie written by an empathetically void and morally bankrupt sociopath.
In the beginning quirky with a torrent of jokes that all fall completely flat. Lighting done by what must be a blind diversity hire, as we almost can't see what's going on 90% of the time.
Then, our supposed protagonist becomes a psychopathic serial murderer, which apparently is not only okay, but something to laugh about and root for. Anyone crosses Lisa the slightest, they're fair game for being murdered and then mocked and their death celebrated with laughs and dancing.
I haven't seen anything this morally decrepit since Natural Born Killers, but that movie was an ironic critique of pop culture and the media's obsession with death and violence. This "movie" just plainly celebrates the same psychopathic behavior unironically and unapologetically. Ew.
That this filth can be produced today without someone not insane stopping it along the way worries me. I'd rather have my children watch The Texas Chainsaw Massacre than this insane on-screen feces.
There are glimpses of goodness, though so short they don't hide the film's frailties.
'Lisa Frankenstein' is, in my opinion, a disappointment. I can kinda see what they were going for and at times I could appreciate it, but all in all it doesn't really work for me. I will say the pacing isn't actually that bad, the film went by relatively quickly. The two big weaknesses to me were the dialogue and simply the story in general, both are rather quite dull... if they weren't, I may have enjoyed this.
The cast are one of the film's more positive features. I like Kathryn Newton, I remember thinking she was great in the similarly underwhelming 'Freaky' from 2020, and she does try with what she's got to work with here. Carla Gugino is possibly the standout, I would've liked to have seen more of her. Liza Soberano is alright, while Joe Chrest plays a literal continuation of his Ted Wheeler.
I will say that I felt the film did slightly improve towards the end, just not enough for me to say that I had a good time watching it unfortunately. I got to see this in an empty cinema , which is always nice. I see this got released basically a month ago everywhere else, wonder why the UK got it so late. I guess as there seemingly aren't as many films out right now due to that sandworm movie thingy taking over? Who knows.
"Lisa" (Kathryn Newton) is a bit of a loner who lives in one of those second families where her rather feeble dad (Joe Chrest) has married the rather vain and odious "Janet" (Carla Gugino) who has a friendly daughter "Taffy" (Liza Soberano). At school, she has taken a shine to floppy-haired heart-throb "Michael" (Henry Einkenberry) and he seems to be a little interested too. Might romance blossom? Suddenly a lightening strike changes everything. The long-dead occupant of a grave she habitually sits beside when she is reading (Cole Sprouse) is electronically reinvigorated and finds his way into her home, her wardrobe and now, as with "ET", she has her own secret creature in the closet. Thing is, there are bits of her new friend missing - his ear, his tongue, his hand (that's not a comprehensive list!) - so the ensuing escapades mix science with comedy and some good old doses of vengeance as they try to restore him to his former, piano playing, glory. It could have been much more fun, this, if it had committed to the audience one way or the other. It's clearly gone for a wide appeal and so compromised on the darkness and adult nature of the humour. Many of the scenarios - especially at the the rather brutal and eye-watering conclusion, could have worked so much better had Zelda Williams aimed the movie more at those who could appreciate the dark comedy rather than dilute it down to something akin to a frat-comedy. It's better than I was expecting, and Newton does fine as the film progresses, it's just a shame it didn't really know were to go or who it was for.
Horror-Comedy (not the opposite) directed by Zelda Willians in her full feature film, and written by Diablo Cody (Juno, Jennifer's Body) that tells the story of a grief stricken teenager who had her mother slaughtered, and lives now with an abusive mother-in-law and a lovely sister-in-law.
Kathryn Newton as Lisa is perfect for her role.
Stigmatized by her past and actions the is the black swan of the school, and passes a lot of time in a old cemetery (watch the credits animation closely) of the 19th century on a tomb of another teenager that died with a green lighting into 1837.
The movie emulates the 80's teenage romance-comedies (it passes in 89), in a light way till a certain previsible point - for sure it isn't as sugary as you may think to those who wonder. And have an unsuspected ending.
I think it was worth for some laughs on a weekend night - I score it 6,6 out of 10,0 / B for the fun.
FULL SPOILER-FREE REVIEW @ https://fandomwire.com/lisa-frankenstein-review-theres-no-middle-ground/
"Lisa Frankenstein marks my first disappointment of the year.
The youthful cast wholeheartedly embraces their campy roles, infusing deliberately exaggerated emotions and expressiveness for an evening of light entertainment with the promised levels of blood and 'macabreness'.
Sadly, the screenplay lacks the same commitment to the absurd, resulting in tonal and thematic inconsistencies throughout a narrative less imaginative than anticipated. The ensuing indifference and uncertainty regarding the film's point and message leave a bittersweet taste..."
Rating: C
When the heads of government from the G7 arrive at a German castle for their annual summit, they expect it to amount to little more than a talking-shop fuelled by fine wine and fine dining before they issue a communiqué that will say precisely nothing of importance to anyone. Things start to look a bit odd, though, when the Canadian "Maxime" (Roy Dupuis) can't get a refill for his wine. Where have all the staff gone? No amount of bell ringing is summoning anyone and it's getting dark. Then Frenchman "Sylvain" (Denis Ménochet) sets off into the woods in search of his papers that have blown from the table and it's his return, covered in gloop, that really sets their teeth on edge. These are the most powerful folks from the "free world" and yet here they are alone and vulnerable - with no mobile phone signal! What now ensues does have quite a potent point to make, but the attempts to deliver that using a combination of soap and comedy just didn't work for me at all. Cate Blanchett is their German host "Hilda" (doing her best impersonation of Ursula von der Leyen) and it's clear she has a bit of thing for her Canadian counterpart who also appears to have had some previous assignation with the Brit (Nikki Amuka-Bird) who is close pals with the power-napping US President (Charles Dance) who, in turn, seems to be the idol in the eye of the Italian "Antonio" (Rolando Ravello) who seems to be the only one remotely switched on as he had the presence of mind to pinch some salami from the buffet earlier! Maybe the solution to their predicament lies back at the house? Well that's where the thing really comes off the rails as a drama, where a combination of ultra modern day and chronologically ancient contrasting factors try to make sense of this increasingly insensible and laboured scenario. There is some potency from the last five minutes, in a nihilist sort of fashion, but otherwise the rest of it seems content to satirise something without actually being remotely funny. Dance maybe had the best idea: turn up, eat, drink, nap then wrap himself in tin foil. This is a missed opportunity, sorry.
Truly good satire needs a razor-sharp edge to succeed, but this latest effort from director Guy Maddin (in collaboration with filmmaking partners Evan and Galen Johnson) falls stunningly flat, resulting in a rambling, unfocused slog that somehow manages to mix messages and symbology that are simultaneously both cryptically understated and patently obvious. Set at a G7 summit in Germany, world leaders from the host country and their American, Canadian, British, French, Italian and Japanese counterparts (along with delegates from the European Union) hold their annual gathering to discuss the state of the world and pat themselves on the back for a self-congratulatory job well done (despite not possessing the requisite skills to accomplish anything meaningful or of substantive consequence other than keeping their nations’ respective seats warm). They smile their hollow smiles and make empty though allegedly profound observations about a variety of subjects, all while attempting to craft one of their famous joint statements (position papers that the American president openly admits no one ever reads). In this case, the communique is meant to address some kind of undefined global crisis, but it appears to be one with apocalyptic overtones. But, in the course of their “work” – an undertaking for which they’re far from qualified – they quickly find themselves in over their heads when the infrastructure around them begins to crumble, a circumstance made more ominous by the appearance of inexplicable apparitions and zombie-like bog creatures straight out of classic folklore and middle European fairy tales. One might think that this would make for an interesting premise in telling a surrealistically satirical fable about the state of contemporary world politics, but the execution here is so poorly carried off that it ends up amounting to little more than oh so much intellectual and symbolic masturbation (depicted here a little too literally and repetitively at that). To complicate matters, the narrative incorporates countless developments that go wholly unexplained, some of which presumably have to do with the symbolic emasculation of a prevailing patriarchal world in favor of an emerging female-directed paradigm, but others of which are just so enigmatically absurd that they defy description, explanation or purpose (there’s more of that masturbation again, only this time reflected in the nature of the picture’s screenplay elements). The overall result is a mess of a movie that, despite its gifted ensemble cast and atmospheric cinematography and production design, just doesn’t work, especially since the insights it’s trying to impart aren’t particularly new, revelatory or funny. We’re well aware of how inept many of the world’s supposedly astute leaders are these days, including the fact that they’re cluelessly engaged in little more than what amounts to unconscious acts of that aforementioned “self-love” (and self-aggrandizing ones at that), but do we really need a movie to remind us of that (especially one as shabbily made as this)? No thanks. If I were you, I’d duck out of this one and see what else is playing at the multiplex (or, better yet, skip it altogether).
Nobody has been executed here in the UK since 1948 so it's quite difficult to get my head around a society that not only still condones state killings but, more disgustingly from my perspective, has a television programme called "Execution Watch". This short documentary follows the last week of John Henry Ramirez who has spent years on death row for a killing he openly admitted. Now he has found Christ and the new DA has requested that the death penalty be commuted to life without possibility of parole. It's not because he's a Christian that he has asked for this, but more because he has his own moral objections to this whole process of punishment. This new approach has it's supporters and detractors and we hear from both - including the murdered man's family. It's presented clumsily and as if it were an hastily cobbled together news feature - complete with repeated soundbites and lingering photography that made it look more like a staged drama than a serious look at how people deal with something quite this visceral when it touches their lives. There's always going to be debate about this ultimate penalty, but I am afraid this does little to inform that discussion and is really quite disappointing.
I was drawn in to this one because it features Tilda Swinton, one of my favorite actresses. She is, in this movie too, an absolute power house of talent, and the sole reason to keep watching.
Unfortunately, the movie is entirely unwatchable, as each and every main character, and quite a few of the secondary ones as well, is insufferable. This may be on purpose, I suspect it is, but I really need at least for either the protagonist to be likable, or in the case of an antihero, for the supporting cast to be likable. Here, I get neither.
Now, there are clear overtones drawing a message about immigrants coming to the United States for work. The message being that they're incompetent infantile unlikable narcissistic habitual liars without a conscience.
Personally, I don't subscribe to this simplistic and clearly incorrect view. Surely, not all immigrants are like this, I'd wager a dwindling number would be. But I don't really fault the movie for offering this view, and it's not why I score it this low. I watch movies presenting viewpoints to which I don't subscribe all the time, and if they do it well and in a professional and engaging manner, I'll like the movie all the same. One example of this is "Men," which presents a terribly nihilistic and misandrist theme, but it does so masterfully, and so I must (joyfully) cheer for it all the same.
This movie, however, is just awful. Its theme is hateful and its execution incompetent. I suspect the writer/director is as narcissistic and sociopathic as its characters. It has that vibe.
Although I couldn't stomach finishing this atrocity, I cannot give it one star. Tilda Swinton is too wonderful for that. And therefore, two stars. Avoid.
Isn’t it amazing how failures can often lead to unexpected successes? Those missteps frequently have a way of opening meaningful doors, even if it doesn’t seem that way at the time they occur. But how readily are we aware that such developments can occur? Such is the whirlwind experience of Alejandro Martinez (Julio Torres), a young, idealistic, inventive Salvadoran toy designer who emigrates to New York in search of a job in an incubator program at a major American toy manufacturer. But, to apply for the position, he must be present stateside, which means he needs a work visa to reside here long enough to make his pitch. That possibility seems to evaporate, though, when he loses his job as a client curator at a cryogenics company. Fortunately, however, as he’s making his exit from the workplace, he meets and befriends a flamboyant art critic (Tilda Swinton) upset with the way the cryogenics company is handling the care of her late partner (RZA), an eccentric artist known for specializing in paintings of eggs. To raise funds for the painter’s curation, she wants to stage an exhibition of his work but needs help to pull it off, which is where Alejandro enters the picture. He volunteers to assist with staging the show in exchange for her sponsorship so that he can obtain a new work visa to stay in the US. It sounds like a simple, straightforward arrangement, but, as he soon finds out, that’s far from the case, as he launches into a wild and crazy odyssey filled with any number of outlandish personal and professional incidents, many of them ludicrous and comical yet surprisingly beneficial. This debut feature from actor-writer-director Torres tells an unconventional yet hilarious and insightful story of commitment, empowerment and imagination filled with colorful characters and enigmatic situations. Its clever production design, imaginative cinematography, and inclusion of surreal and symbolic sequences makes for an edgy yet entertaining watch, an impressive first offering from the former Saturday Night Live staff writer. While there are some instances where the narrative tends to become a little too outrageously self-satisfied for its own good, the bulk of the film stays on course and features an array of fine performances from Torres, Swinton and a host of supporting players. “Problemista” was originally scheduled for release in summer 2023 but was delayed by the SAG-AFTRA strike. However, as this delightfully quirky offering shows, the wait was indeed worth it, as it often is for those who encounter seemingly endless snafus on the way to achieving their greatness. If you’re fond of the irreverent, as I am, you’ll get a kick out of this one, an engaging tale that both enlightens and entertains while giving your mind a lot to play with.
I suppose the real thing to take away from this is just hard it can be for folks to make a living running a small fishing boat. Thereafter it's a bland family drama about two half brothers caught up in a drug smuggling caper as they desperately try to keep their business afloat by picking up drugs that have been deposited out at sea and bringing them ashore. When one such shipment goes pear-shaped then the family encounter brutality of their unscrupulous partners, all whilst the coastguard - in the USA and Canada - start to make their presence felt too. Matters are also made worse by the fact that their father (Tommy Lee Jones) is diagnosed with cancer and the pair - "Tom" (Ben Foster) and "Charlie" (Toby Wallace) - are determined not to let him down. To be fair, it doesn't quite follow the usual shipping lanes but the acting - especially from Tim Daly and Jenny Ortega is pretty rotten and the dialogue the others are left with is hardly the stuff of a Pulitzer prize, There is some decent maritime photography and we do get a sense of just how vulnerable they are on the eponymous trawler as the seas get livelier, but sadly that's the only thing that gets lively and I'd recommend that you just give this a miss, sorry.
Fables often make for intriguing storytelling and engaging cinematic experiences. And such is the case for the debut feature from writer-director Daina Oniunas-Pusic, a whimsical yet profound tale about the acceptance of death (or, more precisely, the ability to move beyond that and learn how to make friends with death). It’s told through the experience of 15-year-old Tuesday (Lola Petticrew), a terminally ill adolescent whose mother, Zora (Julia Louis-Dreyfus), is struggling to accept the inevitable. Zora looks for excuses to avoid spending time with her daughter, because she’s unable to face the impending truth. But, when death itself suddenly and unexpectedly appears to claim Tuesday, taking the form of a talking, shape-shifting parrot (voiced by Arinzé Kene), Zora’s hand is forced. Somewhat surprisingly, Tuesday reconciles herself to her fate rather easily and subsequently ends up spending most of her remaining time trying to help her mother understand the nature of what’s about to happen – and what will unfold if it doesn’t, consequences with larger implications. In doing so, the film gets into some deeply meaningful material, presenting insights that most of us probably have never considered, let alone explored, shedding an entirely new light on the essence of death, as well as the tremendous burden it has placed on its ornithological messenger. The result is a truly moving story, one that deftly mixes joy and sadness, pathos and humor, and anger and sympathy, not only for mother and daughter, but also for death itself and the wider world of which we’re all a part. The narrative certainly gives viewers much to contemplate, introducing notions that might well raise eyebrows and perhaps even ruffle a few feathers (no pun intended) for those accustomed to more conventional interpretations of this subject. But, in the end, the picture provides a fresh, more mature take on these concepts. Admittedly, the pacing sags a touch in the middle, and the flow of the story may seem somewhat strange or a tad unfocused at times. What’s more, some may question the reasoning behind why death appears as a talking parrot (but, then again, why should it necessarily take some of the more familiar forms we have seen in other stories, such as the grim reaper, for instance?). The film features fine performances, most notably the best screen work Louis-Dreyfus has ever turned in. It also respectfully recalls material presented previously in such perceptively prescient tales as the moving Australian comedy-drama “Baby Teeth” (2019) and the classic Twilight Zone episode “Nothing in the Dark” (1962) featuring a very young Robert Redford. Still, the premise may strike some as odd, absurd or implausible, but, then, when have fables, fairy tales or opera librettos ever faithfully stuck to the tried and true? Suspend your disbelief for this one, and sit back and immerse yourself in what it has to say. You may never look at death the same way ever again.
What a great story, I love how you cannot scape your own demon, you might find a way to scape in this world but, in Algea world you have to face your own demon.
In the interest of full disclosure, I’ve routinely made it clear that I’m not a big fan of movie musicals. In addition, less known is the fact that I’ve also never been particularly enamored with the original dramatic version of this story (1985), a picture in which director Steven Spielberg still had his training wheels on when it came to making serious cinematic fare. With those admissions in mind, then, it would appear that this latest iteration of the classic Alice Walker novel would have two prejudicial strikes against it going in, and that assessment would be accurate, as these qualifications sincerely reflect my characterization of this alternative take on this beloved tale. Director Blitz Bazawule’s musical adaptation of this tale about a young African-American woman (Fantasia Barrino) struggling to find happiness under harsh conditions in early 20th Century Georgia is plagued by an array of issues, including an ill-fitting fusion of this story in a Broadway format/context, an uneven distribution of production numbers throughout the course of the narrative, numerous over-the-top (and frequently silly) surreal song and dance sequences (many of which look like they’ve been plucked fresh from a Baz Luhrmann movie), understandable but nevertheless-disappointing plot and character development alterations, and some serious miscasting choices (such as the usually-reliable Colman Domingo, who’s decidedly out of place in the role of Mister). This combination of misfire elements makes for somewhat disappointing viewing for those who adored the book and original screen version and does little for winning over innately lukewarm supporters of the material (like me). Granted, the film gets better as it goes along (probably because there are fewer musical numbers in the second half than the first), and its ensemble cast, for the most part, is quite compelling, including Barrino, Taraji P. Henson, David Alan Grier, Corey Hawkins and Oscar nominee Danielle Brooks. However, on balance, this is one of those projects where things probably would have been better off left alone.
A film of quality, this.
'The Color Purple' is a blast, what is a noteworthy thing for me to say given I'm not a lover of musicals; though, to be fair, I'm way more into them in recent years since doing reviews... have learnt to appreciate 'em! This has good music alongside an extremely deep narrative, one that hits the feels directly. I've never seen or read any version of this story previously, but this is a great introduction to it.
The performances are stellar. Danielle Brooks is outstanding, a real emotive showing from her throughout - top notch! I also seriously enjoyed (despite the character, who is iffily 'redeemed') Colman Domingo in this 2023 picture. He and Brooks are actors I've loved in television ('Orange Is the New Black and 'Fear the Walking Dead', the latter isn't the best show but Domingo is class in it), so it's extremely pleasing to see them star on the big screen.
It's somewhat of a crime it has taken me this long in my review to mention Fantasia, who is brilliant - Phylicia Pearl Mpasi is too, btw. Taraji P. Henson, obviously, impresses as well, while Halle Bailey spearheads the rest. Nice to see David Alan Grier also, as well as (like Domingo) another TWD alum in Corey Hawkins (whatever happened to Heath?!).
Sometimes it's better just not to re-imagine/invent/devise a feature that had such a visceral impact not just on the cinema, but on the theatre and, of course - the literary world in the first place. I"m not sure this isn't one of those. It follows the story of the young "Celie" who is essentially sold to a neighbour "Mister" (Colman Domingo) when she's barely into adulthood - for a cow and some eggs. Turns out his hale-fellow-well-met character is a bit deceptive: he's a bit of a misogynist brute who sees this woman as his property. With her now the plaything of another man, her sister "Nettie" becomes the latest object of the desires of their father and in panic she flees to "Celie" for help. Out of the frying pan into the fire, perhaps - she has soon to get away from there whilst the men folk continue as if nothing has happened. The chronology speeds up a bit now and we find ourselves dipping in at various stages of their lives only discover that little has changed and their opportunities are still tied by their apron strings. Until, that is, the arrival of the jazz sensation that is "Shug Avery" (Taraji P. Henson) who brings with her the winds of quite empowering change. Meantime, "Harpo" - the stepson of "Celie" has found himself a rather feisty and independently-minded wife in "Sofia" (Danielle Brooks) and we start to think that perhaps things might just be about to improve. The only abject lesson in racism to feature here occurs around this point demonstrating the cruelty and brutality that made this story abhorrently poignant in the first place. What now ensues instils a growing determination among these women to assert themselves and thrive on their own terms. Can they? What I found this lacked was the earthiness, the grittiness, the squalor of the 1985 screen version. It's also a musical at times but a pretty sterile and overly choreographed one that seemed to be unsure if it wanted to be "West Side Story" or "Washington Heights". There's an ensemble number by a waterfall with the water flowing with almost symmetrical and flawless evenness. Even the scenes of evil are somehow just a bit too de-sensitised. I think possibly the problem for me was that the powerful performance of Fantasia Barrino was just too good, and the power balled from her towards the end presented almost as if there were space for applause afterwards. Domingo is a good actor, too, but again here he just didn't cut it as either the charismatic charmer or the sexually rapacious bully - though he did fare a little better as the story moved on. The soundtrack has some belters and taken in isolation, there are some great performances here from Barrino, Henson and my favourite - Brooks; but I'd sooner watch the original, any day - it has more authenticity in it's impact.
A missed opportunity. While I agree with the most but not everything that was stated in the movie, I can't understand why it failed to find obvious similarities to segregation based on religion. Am I the only one who sees forbidding marriage between religions the same as forbidding interracial marriagies?
I think it was convenient to find funds for this movie in times of woke movement. The intentions of the author can be clearly seen by referring to tragic and catchy events such as the death of a convicted felon and local thug George Floyd as racially based and several other events while they had nothing to do with racial discrimination.
The movie had a perfect chance of becoming challenging and discussing other aspects of racial segregation such as a very high number of crimes, unemployment and gangs in areas occupied by black people, dispropotionate to their population. It could also challenge a religion as an obvoius tool for segregating people but it didn't because it's just another mainstream woke production.
Those who believe that institutionalized systemic racism is fundamentally an American problem should probably give a serious look to this latest offering from writer-director Ava DuVernay, best known for the superb historical drama, “Selma” (2014). Based on the book Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents by best-selling author Isabel Wilkerson, the film examines how organic prejudices are actually a worldwide phenomenon that may or may not have anything specifically to do with race but are more readily attributable to matters of caste. While the picture indeed examines this practice from an American perspective, it also addresses it from the standpoint of the dictates employed in Nazi Germany and in the longstanding Indian caste system, where race was/is not an inherent issue. Rather, the institutionalized discriminatory practices in these locales (as well as in others) were (and in some cases still are) driven by the implementation of artificial distinctions that have been established and perpetuated based on other characteristics but that have had the same kinds of negative impact as those driven by race-based policies. The filmmaker explores how author Wilkerson (Aunjanue Ellis Taylor) went about researching and writing the book on this subject, a project undertaken at a time when she was dealing with the fallout from a series of personal tragedies involving her mother (Emily Yancy), husband (Jon Bernthal) and cousin (Niecy Nash-Betts), giving her a reason to pick herself up and carry on with her life. Admittedly, the multiple story threads involved in the narrative and the way in which they’re organized could have used some tweaking for greater clarity and smoother connectedness, and the author’s theories could have stood to be presented a little less overly intellectually at times. However, in the end, the movie’s themes successfully come together to create a captivating and eye-opening hypothesis that we’d all be wise to consider seriously. What’s more, the depiction of Wilkerson’s personal story is filled with a series of strongly emotive moments that are sure to tug heartily at the heart strings, so keep the hankies handy. The film also features an array of fine, small-role supporting performances from the likes of Nick Offerman, Blair Underwood, Audra McDonald, Finn Whitrock, Vera Farmiga, Myles Frost and Lennox Simms. In the end, the revelations exposed here could well make you sad for the needlessly sorry state of humanity. But the picture also provides a deeper, more insightful understanding of what’s fundamentally wrong with humanity, providing us with a key that just might help us find our way out of the current social morass with a solution that could potentially help us finally fix things for good.
The acting is all really quite adequate here, but it's not really that important to the fascinating underlying premiss that underpins the theory that race, in itself, might not be the reasons for the hierarchical nature of a society that always manages to create sub-classes. Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor offers her own engaging perspective on author Isabel Wilkerson who is invited by a publisher to offer a more considered and less reactionary appraisal of race relations following the murder of a young black man who just happened to be in the wrong place (a white neighbourhood) at the wrong time. The audience know full well from the outset what has happened here, so that's not especially important to the plot either - it's her search for a rationale. That search attempts to draw parallels between the plight of the African American citizenry with the victims of Holocaust and of the system of caste that prevails in India. By spending a section of the film in Germany and then in India, we are exposed to a more internationalist view of just why society is made up of the have lots, the haves and the have nots - and at just how little much of that has changed for centuries. The comparison she develops works surprisingly convincingly, if not without it's flaws, and Ellis-Taylor acts well as a sort of sponge for the philosophies that emerge. The one element that it rather studiously avoids is religion. That isolation does rather compromise the authenticity of any conclusion as it doesn't acknowledge that so often the behaviour and structures of cultures are dictated by those atop them in some form of priesthood - whether they be Brahmin or Cardinal. There are a few familial sub-plots to add a bit of drama to the story, but I found them a little unnecessary as the theory elaborates more. It does come from a very specific American perspective - I'd be interested to see how it might turn out if it were to be remade from a Jewish or Indian point of view, but as it is - it's a thoughtful exercise in what makes human strata function and endure.
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