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BARBARIAN--When she checks into the Detroit Airbnb she rented online, Tess (Georgina Campbell) is annoyed to discover that the owner double-booked and there's already a man ("It" killer clown Bill Skarsgard) staying there. Her decision to stay the night--it's late, and she's in Detroit after all--turns out to be, er, unwise. Zach Cregger's full-throttle, balls-to-the-wall horror flick is one of the most audacious, fully-realized and, yes, flat-out terrifying chiller in many a moon. And considering the fact that Cregger's sole previous directorial credit was co-helming the dreadful 2009 frat-boy comedy "Miss March," it also seems a bit like a miracle. Fans will be rehashing (and re-watching) this film for decades to come. It might even turn out to be a game-changer for the entire horror genre. (A MINUS.)
BEAST--Idris Elba battles a ginormous rogue lion in director Baltasar ("2 Guns," "Contraband") Kormakur's South African-set action flick. The set-up is blissfully, stupidly elemental. Widowed dad Nate (Elba) brings his teenage daughters (Leah Jeffries and Iyana Halley) on safari and, after running afoul of the afore-mentioned jungle cat, spend the rest of the movie literally running for their lives. Kormakur knows how to expertly ratchet up the suspense, and its fat-free 93-minute run time feels just right. Ridiculous, yes, but also kind of fun if you're willing to check your brain at the door. (B MINUS.)
BODIES BODIES BODIES--A Gen Z hurricane party is the setting for Halina Reijn's meta horror flick that instantly renders the entire "Scream" franchise hopelessly passe. The "party," hosted by David (Pete Davidson) at his family's remote country estate, is actually more of a bacchanal thanks to the copious quantities of drugs, alcohol and polymorphous sexual activity involved. The title refers to a game in which the participants wind up being murdered (in the gnarliest fashion possible, natch). Costarring "Borat Subsequent Moviefilm" breakout Maria Bakalova and Amanda Stenberg of "The Hate U Give," it's snarky, smirky and immensely pleased with itself. No doubt some people--probably moviegoers under the age of 30 who haven't seen a lot of, y'know, movies--will think it's a total hoot. But I found the whole thing off-puttingly smug and borderline-obnoxious. (C MINUS.)
BULLET TRAIN--Brad Pitt plays conflicted assassin "Ladybug" whose most recent assignment finds him on a Tokyo to Kyoto super bullet train where he's forced to square off against rival assassins (including Aaron Taylor-Johnson and Brian Tyree Henry's "twin" hitmen brothers). That's pretty much it for the plot of David ("Atomic Blonde," "Deadpool 2") Leitch's breathlessly paced, brazenly ridiculous action flick. To complain that it's all "too much" is missing the point--if there even is one. This kind of borderline-nihilistic, "we're all just having a larf" action movie has become as commonplace in 21st century Hollywood as, well, Marvel super hero flicks. You're either with them or against them, and in this case (mostly due to Pitt and a superb supporting cast which includes Zazie Beetz, Michael Shannon and Sandra Bullock as Pitt's handler) I'm all aboard. You probably won't remember it by the time you hit the parking lot, but it's goofy fun while it lasts. (B.)
CLERKS III--After suffering a near-fatal heart attack, Randal (Jeff Anderson) decides to make a movie about the New Jersey convenience store he's been working--or, more accurately, hardly working--at since 1994. Because BFF Dante (Brian O'Halloran) is still every inch a mensch, he humors Randal by agreeing to play along with his buddy's half-baked filmmaking aspirations. Tagging along, and doing most of the grunt work, are Jay (Jason Mewes) and Silent Bob (Kevin Smith) who apparently know more about the making of a successful indie production than your average stoner. At first, multi-hyphenate Smith's decision to return to the "Clerks" universe he launched his career with seemed foolhardy. After all, 2006's "Clerks 11" wasn't especially memorable, and what more could he have to say about a nondescript Jersey convenience store, its lackadaisical employees and quirky customers? But, much to my surprise, he actually pulls it off. The meta jokes about shooting a shoestring indie in a Quickie-Mart are pretty darn funny, and the wholly unexpected (yes, someone dies) ending is surprisingly moving and even perversely gratifying. If you still have residual affection for "Clerks"--and Kevin Smith--you don't want to miss this. (B.)
D.C. LEAGUE OF SUPER-PETS--When Superman (John Krasinski) and his fellow Justice Leaguers are kidnapped by Lex Luthor's evil guinea pig cohort (Kate McKinnon), Supe's super-pooch Krypto (Dwayne Johnson) rounds up animal shelter rejects Ace (Kevin Hart), PB (Vanessa Bayer), Chip (Diego Luna) and Morton (Natasha Lyonne) to brainstorm a rescue mission. (The critters have all been endowed with super-powers thanks to a dose of orange Kryptonite, making them as invincible as Krypto himself.) Director Jared Stern's surprisingly amiable CGI 'toon coasts on the distinctive charms of its amusingly eclectic vocal cast, and it's fun to see the normally too-cool-for-school D.C. multiverse relax a tad, evincing a most welcome sense of humor. Plus, any movie that has the wit to cast Keanu Reeves as Batman--even if it's only his voice--has its tongue firmly in cheek. (B.)
DIG--Recently widowed handyman Scott (Thomas Jane) and his teenage daughter Jane (Harlow Jane, Jane's real-life daughter) are held hostage by redneck sociopaths (Emile Hirsch and Liana Liberato) in director K. Asher Levin's half-clever, half-goofy suspenser. Originally hired by Hirsch's Victor to strip down an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere, Scott made the unwise decision to bring along his kid (who clearly resents him, and still blames him for the shooting death of her mom in a roadside rage incident that left her deaf). It turns out that Victor really wants Scott to dig up a mysterious "something" under the porch, and when his main squeeze (Libertao) arrives to supervise, it's pretty clear that neither Scott or Jane will make it out alive. Although Levin wastes too much time on failed escape attempts (probably to pad the 90-minute run time), the ending--as predictable as it is--is sorta/kinda worth the wait. Both Janes do nice work, but Hirsch and Liberato are more entertaining company. Not bad as far as straight-to-video Lionsgate programmers go. (C PLUS.)
DON'T WORRY, DARLING--The eagerly awaited reunion between the director (Olivia Wilde) and screenwriter (Katie Silberman) of 2019's "Booksmart" turns out to be something of a flatliner. As anyone who's seen the trailer--which was positively ubiquitous in theaters this summer--could tell you, it's basically "Stepford Wives 2.0." Or "Stepford Wives 2.0" if a Jordan Peele wannabe was calling the creative shots. The great Florence ("Midsommer," "Little Women") Pugh plays Alice, wife of yuppie hotshot Jack (former teen idol Harry Styles who's unaccountably bland and evinces zero chemistry with Pugh). The couple has recently moved into a retro SoCal subdivision that looks like something out of a 1950's fever dream where "Leave it to Beaver" wives stay home to cook and clean while their hubbies work 9 to 5 on a hush-hush project overseen by the vaguely sinister Frank (Chris Pine oozing Rat Pack sleaze). It's Alice who belatedly susses out that something's not quite right in "Victory Town." Of course, it takes the suicide of fellow housewife/BFF Margaret (KiKi Layne), one half of the only African-American couple in their cosseted enclave, to finally wake her up. Wilde's movie is all build-up, and once the pieces finally fall into place it's hard not to stifle a "saw-it-coming" yawn. Pugh and Pine are both very good, and the art direction wittily replicates the synthetic, seductive feel of '50s Americana. I just wish the film itself was worthy of their labors. (C.)
DREAMCHILD--When Alice Hargreaves (screen veteran Coral Browne in a career-best performance), inspiration for the titular protagonist of Lewis Carroll's "Alice in Wonderland," is invited to America to receive an honorary degree from Columbia University coinciding with the 100th anniversary of Carroll's birth, her ocean voyage triggers a treasure trove of heretofore repressed memories. Half of director Gavin Millar's film is devoted to flashbacks of orphaned prebuescent Alice (Amelia Shankley) and her not-entirely wholesome friendship with the Reverend Charles Dodgson (Ian Holm, sublime). Assisted by Jim Henson's Creature Shop, the iconic creatures from Carroll's magical tome (the Cheshire Cat, the Mad Hatter, et al) come to vibrant, fantastically tactile life. The fact that the present-day (well, 1933) scenes involving the 80-year-old Alice, her young traveling companion (Nicola Cowper), and the New York City tabloid reporter (Peter Gallagher) angling for a "scoop" are nearly as compelling as the childhood sequences is a testament to Millar and screenwriter Dennis ("Pennies from Heaven") Potter's immense skill. As wonderful as the movie is, it was largely shunned by audiences at the time of its blink-and-you'll-miss-it 1985 theatrical release. (I had to drive to a Pittsburgh arthouse to see it, months after its New York opening.) Major props, then, to Kino-Lorber for finally giving "Dreamchild" the Blu-Ray release cultists like me have long been clamoring for. The only extras on the K-L Studio Classics disc are historian/audthor Lee Gambin's edifying audio commentary and the film's original theatrical trailer. (A.)
ELVIS--"Moulin Rouge" visionary Baz Luhrmann's long-delayed cradle-to-the-grave Elvis Presley biopic is an eye-popping lollapalooza that's so giddily, unrepentantly over the top that it feels just about right. Since the iconic rock-and-roll demigod was never someone who believed in moderation while living his oversized life, why should a movie about him be a model of restraint? Austin Butler, last seen playing Tex Watson in Quentin Tarantino's "Once Upon a Time...in Hollywood," acquits himself nicely in the title role. I might even call it a "star is born" type of performance if the true headliner of any Baz Luhrmann flick wasn't Luhrmann himself. Along with Wes Anderson and Terrence Malick, he has such a recognizable, trademark-worthy visual signature that you'd have to be wearing a paper bag over your head not to be able to ID it as quintessential Baz. Colonel Tom Parker (Tom Hanks sporting lots of prosthetics and a flowery Dutch accent), Elvis' infamous Svengali-like puppet master, narrates the movie from his deathbed, and the whole thing has a "cautionary tale" quality as Luhrmann dutifully--albeit impressionistically--checks off all the key chapters of Presley's life: overnight stardom; a two-year stint in the Army; Priscilla (the lovely Olivia DeJunge); lots of silly bubblegum movies; weight gain/prescription drug abuse; the 1968 TV "comeback" special; ad nauseam. It's a lot of biographical material to cover, and Luhrmann squeezes as much as he can into the film's 159 minutes. (There's apparently a four-hour cut that will no doubt wind up on HBO MAX before year's end). If you're as much of a Baz-o-phile as an Elvis-o-mane, you'll probably think you died and went to heaven. Anyone else should probably just stay home. (A MINUS.)
FALL--Considering the popularity of recent mountain-climbing documentaries like the Oscar-winning "Free Solo" and 2021's "The Alpinist," it's not surprising that someone would choose to wrap a thriller template around the extreme sport pastime. To say that director Scott Mann's film literally made me sick to my stomach--confession: I suffer from extreme vertigo--is a roundabout way of saying that he succeeded. In an attempt to break childhood friend Becky (the appealing Grace Caroline Currey) from a self-destructive spiral, Hunter (Virginia Gardner) invites the still-grieving widow on a hiking expedition. Their target--an abandoned 2,000 foot radio tower in the middle of nowhere--turns out to be a huge mistake when the dilapidated wooden ladder they use to climb it begins to crumble. Stranded at the top with no way down (and no cellphone reception, natch), the two women are forced to devise ingenious, Macgyver-like methods to secure their escape. At the halfway mark of this 107-minute film, I wondered how Mann could possibly maintain suspense or even interest in the second half. But he manages to pull it off, and the nerve-rattling ending left me shaken and stirred. (B PLUS.)
THE INVITATION--Newly orphaned Evie (Nathalie Emmanuel) takes a DNA test and discovers that she has family she's never met, or even heard of. When Benedict Cumberbatch lookalike cousin Walter (Thomas Doherty) flies to New York to meet her, she's immediately swept up in the fantasy of inheriting new kinfolk. Without thinking it through, Evie impulsively agrees to accompany him back to Old Blighty for what promises to be a lavish family wedding. Uh-oh. If "Get Out" and "Ready or Not" had been written by "Dracula" creator Bram Stoker, they might have resembled director Jessica M. Thompson's late summer Screen Gems throwaway. It's not terrible, just silly, derivative and eminently disposable. (C MINUS.)
JURASSIC WORLD DOMINION--Clocking in at a derriere-numbing and bladder-busting 146 minutes, this is the longest "Jurassic" iteration to date. Ionically, but perhaps inevitably it's also the most creatively bankrupt. More dinosaurs, even more realistic-looking dinosaurs, can't compensate for a hackneyed storyline and actors who are clearly going through the motions. In director Colin Trevorrow's third "World" outing, the dinos have abandoned their enclosure and are now living amongst humans in the "real" world. And because they apparently have nothing better to do, Owen (the increasingly irritating Chris Pratt) and Claire (a terminally annoying Dallas Bryce Howard) enlist to help wrangle those pesky prehistoric critters. The onscreen reunion of 1993 "Jurassic Park" stars Laura Dern, Jeff Goldblum and Sam Neill seems less like a sentimental tip of the hat than a cynical marketing decision. After six "Jurassic" movies--none of which have remotely approximated the wonder, awe and sheer enjoyment of the Spielberg original--it's time to retire these beasties once and for all. (D PLUS.)
THE JUSTICE OF BUNNY KING--Currently homeless, emotionally unstable ex con Bunny King (Essie Davis of "The Babadook" renown) battles New Zealand social services to regain custody of her 5-year-old daughter and 14-year-old son. Because even she realizes that full custody is a long shot (the children are currently living with foster parents), Bunny lowers her sights on wrangling an invitation to her youngest kid's upcoming birthday party. Playing "Louise" to Bunny's "Thelma" is teenage niece Tonyah (Thomas McKenzie, Davis' costar in 2020's "True History of the Kelly Gang") who ran away from home to escape her dad's sexual advances. First-time distaff helmer Gaysorn Thavat gets wonderful performances from her cast (Davis is a veritable force of nature), and the movie has the feel of real life much of the time. Yes, the ending is a downer, but Davis, McKenzie and an ace supporting cast make it very much worth a VOD rental. (B.)
MINIONS: THE RISE OF GRU--Ever wonder what "Despicable Me" arch-villain Gru was like as an 11-year-old when he was a super villain wannabe? Yeah, me neither. But the latest Illumination CGI 'toon--the fifth in the "DM" series, including 2015's standalone Minions origin story--serves up despicable Gru's backstory in a fitfully amusing, if somewhat protracted (even at 87 minutes it feels 30 minutes too long) throwaway. Along with the aid of his new Minion pals, Gru attempts to join the Vicious 6 criminal gang after the sacking of one of their members reduces their ranks to a Vicious 5. The animation is Illumination-generic, but the vocal cast is gratifyingly and amusingly diverse. Besides Steve Carell's dependably spot-on Gru, there's Taraji P. Henson, Julie Andrews, Jean Claude Van Damme, Alan Arkin and Danny Trejo. Although it won't be shortlisted for Oscar's Best Animated Feature, this is decent enough to be one of the season's top-grossing films. (B MINUS.)
MURINA--The titular character in writer/director Antoneta Almat Kusijanovic's feature debut is a 17-year-old girl chafing under the leash of her boorish, uber-controlling father, Ante (Leon Lucev). Murina, played by impressive newcomer Gracie Filipovic, desperately wants agency over her own life--and to leave their stifling island home off the coast of Croatia. When Javier (Cliff Curtis), an old family friend who moved to America and got rich arrives for a visit, Murina pins all her hopes on him rescuing her and Nela (Danica Curcic), her long-suffering mother. Kusijanovic does a wonderful job of establishing both the physical beauty and terrifying isolation of life on a sun-washed slab of land in the middle of an ocean. For Murina, it feels an awful lot like prison, and the only time she truly feels free is when she's submerged under water hunting moray eels with Ante. (It's also the only time they're not arguing.) A slow-burning, deliberately paced character study, Kusijanovic's film is worth seeing for the performances alone. Curcic is particularly touching as a woman stuck between a rock (that damn island) and a hard place (her intractable husband) Although a little thin on "plot" and incident, I found it strangely gripping and, ultimately, emotionally transcendent. No wonder it scored the Camera d'Or award for best first film at the 2021 Cannes Film Festival. Extras on the new Kino Lorber Blu-Ray include an introduction by Kusijanovic, as well as a Q&A with the director conducted at New York's Metrograph Theater. (B PLUS.)
NOPE--Jordan ("Get Out," "Us") Peele, the Gen-Z answer to M. Night Shyamalan, shoots for (Steven) Spielberg status with his latest, a far-out cross between Shyamalan's "Signs" and Spielberg's "Close Encounters of the Third Kind." Reuniting with his "Get Out" star Daniel Kaluuya, Peele aims big---outer space "big"--here, and almost hits his target. Because of Universal's "no spoilers, please" edict, it's hard to even synopsize the film without giving anything away. Suffice it to say that the excellent supporting cast includes Keke Palmer, "Minari" Oscar nominee Steven Yuen and promising newcomer Brandon Perea, and Peele fans won't dare miss it. I'm not sure whether it all adds up to a fully satisfying package (and it certainly didn't have to clock in at 135 overly generous minutes), but I can't wait to see it again. (B PLUS.)
PEARL--The prequel teased in the closing credits of spring's "X" has finally arrived, and it's an even richer experience than the movie that preceded it. Set in 1918--versus the 1979 of "X"--Ti West's companion piece wittily contextualizes the character of Maxine, the bloodthirsty old lady who wreaked havoc on the amateur porn gang from the earlier film. Played by the same preternaturally gifted Mia Goth who was the ambitious starlet and "Last Girl Standing" in "X," Maxine is a young bride who's going progressively batty sequestered on her parents' Texas farm while her husband is off fighting in WW I. Maxine sets all of her showbiz dreams on a dance audition which she hopes will draw the attention of Hollywood talent scouts. But when that doesn't happen, she begins to act out in the most appalling (and gruesome) fashion possible. Shot in voluptuous widescreen color by director of photography Eliot Rockett, the movie feels a bit like the 1950's horror flick Douglas ("Imitation of Life," "Written on the Wind") Sirk never directed. It's like nothing you've ever seen before, and that's a very good thing. Like "X," cult immortality awaits the latest one-of-a-kind A24 corker. (A MINUS.)
RAILWAY CHILDREN--In war-strafed 1944 England, city kid siblings Lily (Beau Gadson), Pattie (Eden Hamilton) and Ted (Zac Cudby) are relocated to the idyllic Yorkshire countryside where they're safely ensconced in the home of Bobbie (Jenny Agutter) and her precocious grandson (Austin Haynes). During an excursion into the woods, the children stumble upon an AWOL Black soldier Abe (Kenneth Aikens) who fled his military unit because of entrenched British racism. Since everyone is a good liberal, they decide to clandestinely shelter Abe until the end of the war. A belated sequel (or is it a remake?) of the beloved 1971 film adaptation of E. Nesbit's 1905 kid-lit staple, Morgan Matthews' appealing new iteration retains much of what made the earlier screen version work (including the casting of Agutter who was a Railway child herself 50+ years ago). The whole thing has such a cozy, old-fashioned vibe that only a MAGA spoilsport would knock it for being aggressively--and anachronistically--woke. (B MINUS.)
SEE HOW THEY RUN--A delectably old-fashioned murder mystery set against the glittery backdrop of London's West End in 1953. Sam Rockwell plays Scotland Yard Inspector Stoppard tasked with finding out who murdered Hollywood director Leo Kopernick (Adrien Brody, narrating the movie from beyond the grave) at a party commemorating the 100th performance of Agatha Christie's "The Mousetrap." (Kopernick had recently been hired to helm the movie version.) Assisting Stoppard is eager beaver Police Constable Stalker (a delightful Saoirse Ronan), and the range of suspects are so vast Christie herself would have had an aneurism keeping track of them. Could it be the persnickety screenwriter (David Oyelow) whose script Kopernick dissed? Or maybe the "Mousetrap" star (Harris Dickinson) who thought Kopernick had romantic designs on his wife? Perhaps it's the play's suspicious producer (Ruth Wilson of Showtime's "The Affair")? Director Tom George shoots much of the film in split screen, and instead of being distracting it actually enhances both the suspense and (considerable) humor. Except for some virtue-signaling multicultural casting that dampens the otherwise spot-on period verisimilitude, fans of "Knives Out," "A Fish Called Wanda" and 1950's Ealing Studios comedies should find this a rollicking good time. (A MINUS.)
TOP GUN: MAVERICK--Tom Cruise's Navy test pilot extraordinaire Pete "Maverick" Mitchell is back to train a cadre of recent Top Gun graduates for another hush-hush overseas mission in this 37-years-later sequel to Cruise and director Tony Scott's iconic Reagan-era blockbuster. The only question is: what took them so long? The directorial baton has been passed to Joseph ("Oblivion," "Tron Legacy") Kosinski, and I knew I was in good hands when Kenny Loggins' "Danger Zone" is reprised for the opening credits sequence. The principal conflict this time around is between Pete and Lt. Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw (Miles Teller), son of Maverick's late flying partner, Goose (memorably played by Anthony Edwards before donning surgical gear for "E.R."). What's most gratifying about this belated follow-up is that it actually seems to understand what made the original work and doesn't mess with their Old Coke formula. Accordingly, Rooster has a rivalry with fellow pilot Hangman (Glen Powell) that echoes Maverick's earlier friction with Iceman (Val Kilmer who turns up in a touching cameo); Maverick once again takes time to romance an independent-minded lady (Jennifer Connelly as saloon proprietress Penny); and an oceanside touch football game wittily nods to the original's volleyball sequence and is nearly as blatantly, comically homoerotic. Playing the Navy brass who predictably disapprove of Maverick's methods but can't quit him are the always welcome Ed Harris and Jon Hamm. The soundtrack isn't as layered with the ear worms ("Take My Breath Away," "Playing With the Boys," etc.) that made the first movie's soundtrack a chart-topper, but Lady Gaga's new ballad is pretty swell and deserves to be remembered at Oscar time. The state of the art flying sequences actually surpass the ones from its predecessor (it's 2022 CGI after all), and they're unlike anything you're likely to experience outside of an actual cockpit. If "Top Gun: Maverick" isn't a summertime box-office bonanza, there's really no hope for multiplexes in our post-Covid era. (A MINUS.)
WHERE THE CRAWDADS SING--Delia Owens' best-selling 2018 novel finally hits multiplex screens, bearing the imprimatur of Reese Witherspoon as producer. (A pre-"Legally Blonde" Witherspoon would have killed it as the film's backwoods heroine.) Borrowing the bifurcated structure of the book, Olivia Newman's movie jumps between 1952 and 1969 to tell the story of itinerant North Carolina "Marsh Girl" Kya (Daisy Edgar-Jones, very good) from impoverished childhood to her future infamy as a murder suspect. The two significant men in Kya's life (nasty rich kid Chase and salt of the earth Tate played, respectively, by Harris Dickinson and Taylor John Smith) make less of an impression than they probably should have, but Newman--and I'm assuming Witherspoon--clearly intended their film to be a female empowerment sudser, and men are more of a distraction than a necessity in this world. Like its literary source, the movie feels a bit like a shotgun marriage between John Grisham (the courtroom stuff) and Nicholas Sparks (the lovey-dovey stuff). But Edgar-Jones and a solid supporting cast, including the estimable David Strathairn and Garret Dillahunt, make it more substantive and enjoyable than expected. (B MINUS.)
THE WOMAN KING--Oscar winner Viola Davis is fierceness personified as General Nanisca, the early 19th century leader of an all-female cadre of elite warriors in director Gina Prince-Blythewood's nobly-intentioned, but somewhat prosaic and slackly paced historical drama. Set in the African kingdom of Dahomay, the film pits Nanisca and her Amazonian freedom fighters against both Portuguese colonizers (personified by Hero Fiennes Tiffin's Snidely Whiplash-like slave trader, Santo) and the Oyo general (Jimmy Odukoya) she has a personal beef with. (It's a long--very long--story.) Despite using spears and blades versus their enemy's guns, there's little doubt that Nanisca & Co. will ultimately prevail. And it's that predictability, as well as a bloated 135-minute run time, that makes the film more of a slog than the rip-snorter it should have been. Nice turns by newcomer Thuso Mbedu as Nanisca's newest recruit and, although it's a glorified cameo at best, "Star Wars" alum John Boyega as Dahomay's progressive-minded, albeit polygamous (!) King Ghezo. Prince-Blythewood proved her action mettle with Netflix's kick-ass "The Old Guard," and her new movie works best during the frequent (but regrettably "PG-13") battle sequences which favorably recall Mel Gibson's "Braveheart" and "Apocalypto." A weird distraction is the decision to have the Dahomay characters speak English with thick African accents while everyone else's dialogue--German, Portuguese, et al--is subtitled. (C PLUS.)
THE YOUTH GOVERNOR--In 2019, 4,000 California high school students gathered to elect the state's "Youth Governor." Directors Jaron and Matthew Hadley's engrossing non-fiction film chronicles both the gathering itself, as well as the four-month build-up to the event in which we're introduced to the three eventual candidates. What the movie reveals is that today's social media-savvy kids aren't that dissimilar from their more jaundiced elders. Politicking reigns supreme, and the ultimate winner is the one who best knows how to work the system--even if the "system" is comprised of their fellow teenagers. Student athlete slickster Aidan Blain is a real glad-handler, always ready with the perfect, focus group-tested sound-bite; Bayo Collins, the son of immigrant parents, seems the most unprepared for the microscopic lens a political campaign inevitably places on him; and whip-smart Piper Samuels, the only female (and Jewish) candidate, seems likely to be the official sacrificial lamb on the altar of partisan politics. Just like in the 21st century world of adult politics, much of the drama revolves around internecine warfare between progressive and conservative factions. While it's pretty easy to guess the eventual winner--and the film lacks the contextual layering and emotional gravitas that made 2020's similarly-themed documentary "Boys State" so memorable--the Hadley Brothers, both alums of California's Youth & Government Program themselves, give viewers an entertaining ride. Yes, these kids are (mostly) alright. No extras on the newly issued Greenwich/Kino Lorber DVD. (B.)
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THE BAD GUYS--Based on Aaron Blabey's best-selling graphic novel series, the latest DreamWorks animated film is one of their better outings in recent years. A crew of miscreants led by pickpocket Mr. Wolf (Sam Rockwell) decides it's better to go straight than do jail time after their latest job gets them busted. Agreeing to serve as mentor is British-accented guinea pig Professor Marmalade (Richard Ayoade) who discovers that Wolf and his criminal cohorts--safecracker Mr. Snake (Marc Maron); master of disguise Mr. Shark (Craig Robinson); hired muscle Mr. Piranha (Anthony Ramos); and hacker Ms. Tarantula (Awkwafina)--might actually make pretty decent good guys (and one good gal) after all. Or maybe the whole thing is just another elaborate scam concocted by Wolfy. The vocal casting is aces, and there's just enough invention and wit in the screenplay to keep any accompanying grown-ups from nodding off. Which is more than you can say about most kidflicks. (B.)
THE BLACK PHONE--Ethan Hawke is effectively creepy as a child killer whose latest prey, 13-year-old Finney (impressive newcomer Mason Thames), is somehow able to make contact with his abductor's previous victims via the titular rotary phone in the basement where he's being held captive. Will they help him escape, or is he doomed to join them in the afterlife? In adapting Joe Hill's short story, director Scott ("Doctor Sleep") Derrickson is possibly too enamored with a "Stranger Things" nostalgic/period vibe--it's set in 1978 Colorado with all of the era's cultural talismans dutifully checked off a master list--but he skillfully ratchets up the suspense, particularly in an extremely tense third act. Anyone expecting a "Silence of the Lambs"-style serial killer procedural is bound to be disappointed, though. It's actually closer to "Room" with Brie Larson substituted with the ghosts of dead kids. (B MINUS.)
BLOW OUT--When Brian DePalma's "Blow Out" opened in 1981, critics--even critics who normally turned up their nose at DePalma's Hitchcockian riffing--took notice. Unfortunately, audiences mostly stayed away. Released at the end of a summer in which Steven Spielberg's "Raiders of the Lost Ark" ruled the box office, this downbeat, cynical paranoid thriller seemed curiously out of step with audience taste. Reuniting with his "Carrie" director, John Travolta gave one of his finest screen performances as Philadelphia-based sound-effects ace Jack who accidentally records a political assassination while scouting ambient nighttime sounds for a new movie. Assisting him in his sleuthing is not-so-happy hooker Sally (Nancy Allen in her second call girl in a row role for then-husband DePalma after the previous year's "Dressed to Kill:" discuss), and their increasingly daring exploits put both in mortal danger. In one of his early screen roles, John Lithgow plays the wonderfully creepy villain. (Lithgow also played the heavy in DePalma's "Obsession" five years earlier.) DePalma wasn't shy at acknowledging both Antonioni's "Blow Up" and Coppola's "The Conversation" as major influences, and together they form a sort of unofficial trilogy. While Antonioni copped a detached--dare I say "alienated"?--attitude towards his "Big Reveal" and Coppola's film ended with Gene Hackman's Harry Caul descending into madness, "Blow Out" concludes in an almost nihilistic fashion as Jack ostensibly surrenders to The Man. The system is fixed; he's in over his head; why bother? See what I meant about "cynical" and "downbeat"? No wonder audiences stayed away in droves. But like many DePalma films that either flopped or did only so-so business in their initial release (e.g., 1974's "Phantom of the Paradise" and 1989's "Casualties of War"), "Blow Out" has had an enviable second life, now widely regarded as a masterpiece and one of the key American films of its decade. The Criterion Collection's new 2-disc set has a treasure trove of extras, including both a 4K UHD disc presented in Dolby Vision HDR and a gorgeous Blu-Ray transfer; interviews with DePalma (conducted by "Marriage Story" director/ DePalma fanboy Noah Baumbach), Allen and cameraman Garrett Brown who discusses his use of a Steadicam in the movie; on-set photographs by Louis Goldman; DePalma's groovy, notoriously difficult to see 1967 feature debut, "Murder a la Mod;" Michael Sragow's essay "American Scream;" and Pauline Kael's wildly effusive original New Yorker review. (A PLUS.)
THE BOB'S BURGERS MOVIE--In the first big-screen spin-off of the long-running, Emmy-winning FOX animated series, Bob and Linda Belcher need an extension on their bank loan to keep the family's Jersey Shore burger joint afloat. Complicating matters is the sinkhole in front of their restaurant caused by a ruptured water main--with a skeleton inside! Could the corpse be Cotton Candy Dan who mysteriously disappeared years ago? To help solve the mystery, the Belcher kids become junior sleuths to (hopefully) crack the case. Lots of veteran guest stars (Kevin Kline, Zach Galifianakis, Paul Rudd, Sarah Silverman, etc.) turn up, and the whole thing has a cozy, affectionate vibe that's less aggressively hyper than other Sunday night FOX 'toons (e.g., "Family Guy"). I'm not sure whether this is intended more for kids or grown-ups, but it's a pleasant enough divertissement that should have no trouble satisfying longtime fans. And it could even make some new ones in the process. (B MINUS.)
BREAKING--John Boyega from the new generation of "Star Wars" movies comes down to earth for this fact-based story of Marine vet Brian Brown Easley whose 2017 hold-up of a Wells Fargo bank ended in a hail of bullets. The fact that Easley was only asking for the $892.34 withheld from his last disability check because of a bureaucratic screw-up makes the (inevitably) tragic arc of first-time director Abi Damaris Corbin's film all the more heartrending. Boyega is strong here, although he tends to swallow much of his dialogue (prepare to strain your eardrums), and there's good support from Nicole Beharie and Selanis Leyuva as the bank's managers, Connie Britton (a local TV news producer Brian hopes will broadcast his list of grievances) and especially the late Michael Kenneth Williams as a sympathetic hostage negotiator. It's no "Dog Day Afternoon" or even "Inside Man," but it's definitely good enough. (B MINUS.)
CONFESS, FLETCH--Better than either of the two Chevy Chase "Fletch" movies from the 1980's, director Greg ("Superbad," "Adventureland") Mottola's terrifically entertaining reboot successfully reprises author Gregory McDonald's iconic journalist/sleuth for a new millennium. Jon Hamm proves an even better fit for the role than Chase, largely because you actually believe him as a writer. In his latest big-screen outing, Fletch is coerced by new Italian girlfriend Angela (Lorenza Izzo) into investigating the kidnapping of her millionaire father. The rococo plot, which giddily hopscotches between Europe and Boston, involves a stolen art collection and lots of amusingly eccentric suspects. Chief among them are a Harvard professor/art dealer (Kyle MacLachlan), Angela's down on her luck Countess stepmom (Marcia Gay Harden in the film's funniest performance) and his pot-head next-door neighbor (Annie Mumolo). Mottola keeps the action merrily humming along, and the jokes generally fire on all cylinders. It's a real blast, and the former Don Draper seems to be having the time of his life. I know that I did. (B PLUS.)
CRIMES OF THE FUTURE--If the name "David Cronenberg" doesn't ring a bell, you're probably not the target audience for this movie. Aficionados of Cronenberg masterworks like "Videodrome," "The Fly," "Dead Ringers" and "Crash," however, will consider this outré freakout something akin to an early Christmas present. Viggo Mortensen--who starred in Cronenberg's "A History of Violence," "A Dangerous Method" and "Eastern Promises"--plays avant-garde performance artist Saul whose body synthetically produces new organs which he incorporates into his act with kindred kinkmeister Caprice (Lea Seydoux from "No Time to Die"). As an eager-beaver investigator from the National Organ Registry Bureau who becomes obsessed with Saul's, er, unique talent, Kristen Stewart is never funnier (or scarier) than when she blurts out, "Surgery is the new sex." Shockingly, this is Cronenberg's first horror flick since 1999's "eXistenZ," but it was well worth the wait. The feint of heart might consider sitting this one out, though. (A.)
DADDY LONGLEGS--Like Martin Scorsese and Spike Lee, brother directing team Josh and Benny Safdie clearly learned a thing or two from the loosely structured, semi-improvised films of American indie godfather John Cassavetes. In their 2009 sophomore outing, the Safdies hadn't yet begun experimenting with genre forms--that would have to wait until 2017's "Good Time" and 2019's "Uncut Gems"--which might explain why "Daddy Longlegs" feels a bit like a spin-off of Cassavetes' 1974 masterpiece, "A Woman Under the Influence." Instead of a mentally unstable housewife wreaking havoc on her suburban household, the Safdie's protagonist is a barely employed, divorced father of two young boys. Lenny ("Frownland" director Ronald Bronstein) is such a terminal screw-up that he even manages to botch the two weeks a year he's allotted to spend with his kids (real-life siblings Sage and Frey Ranaldo). So manic and undisciplined that you can have an anxiety attack just watching him navigate the mean streets of Manhattan, Lenny is nobody's idea of a "dad." Throughout the course of the film, you'll repeatedly want to reach inside the screen and forcibly remove the boys from Lenny's custody for fear they'll wind up either psychically scarred or even physically harmed. It's a real stress test of a movie. But thanks to the Safdie's incipient raw talent, and the so-real-it-hurts performances, it's also unforgettable. Bonus features on the Criterion Collection Blu-Ray include new interviews with the Ranaldo boys and their parents, Sonic Youth guitarist Lee Ranaldo and Leah Singer (who plays Lenny's ex-wife in the film); a 2017 documentary about the Safdie brothers; priceless footage of the Ranaldo boys' initial meeting with Bronstein; a making-of featurette; 2008's "There's Nothing You Can Do" a Safdie short with members of the "Longlegs" cast and crew; deleted scenes; a 2008 episode of interview series "Talk Show" with cast and crew members; a 2009 interview with the Safdies; and an essay by former Cahiers du Cinema editor Stephane Delorme who programmed the Cannes Film Festival's Directors Fortnight the year "Daddy Longlegs" had its world premiere. (A.)
DOCTOR STRANGE IN THE MULTIVERSE OF MADNESS--Thanks to Sam ("Spider-Man," "The Evil Dead") Raimi climbing aboard as this MCU sequel's director, "Multiverse of Madness" is a marked improvement over Scott Derrickson's somewhat lackluster 2016 franchise kickstarter. It's also more of a horror flick than a super hero movie. Strange (an amusingly plummy Benedict Cumberbatch) unleashes the Multiverse where he's confronted with multiple versions of himself (hence the titular "madness"), and not even loyal sidekick Wong (Benedict Wong)--newly graduated to Prime Sorcerer Wong--is much help in correcting the wonky space/time continuum. (Yes, things do get a tad convoluted and even borderline-incoherent at times.) Strange's chief antagonist this time is Wanda (Elizabeth Olsen) who unleashes her wicked Scarlet Witch alter ego to harness the powers of a runaway teenage girl (Yachitl Gomez's America). Reprising their roles from the first film, Rachel McAdams, Chiwetel Ejiofor and Michael Stuhlbarg are once again good company, and the whole thing wraps up at just under two hours which is a nice change from recent super-sized Marvel movies which seem to drag on forever. (B.)
DOWNTON ABBEY: A NEW ERA--It's summer 1928 and practically the entire "Downton" clan has descended upon a villa in the South of France that Dowager Countess Violet (the sublime Maggie Smith) inherited from an old flame. Tres scandale! The fact that Downton is simultaneously being leased by Hollywood producer/director Jack Barber (Hugh Dancy) as the set for his latest movie insures a near endless of amusing Grantham family drama. Everyone--including beloved Violet frenemy Isabel (Penelope Wilton)--is itching to know more about the affair behind Violet's inheritance, and Lady Mary (Michelle Dockery) lets her hair down long enough to (almost!) entertain Barber's romantic overtures. As a longtime fan of the long-running tube series--and its equally yummy 2019 big-screen follow-up--I'm hardly the most objective viewer. But I savored every delicious minute of this Simon ("Woman in Gold," "Goodbye, Christopher Robin") Curtis-helmed sequel. And if you're a fellow "Downton Head," so will you. (A MINUS.)
DRIVE MY CAR--Ryusuke Hamaguchi's humanist masterpiece was nominated for four Academy Awards this year (including both Best International Feature and Best Picture; it deservedly won in the former category), but precious few have been able to see the film in its limited theatrical release. Kudos then to the Criterion Collection for acquiring home video rights so that cineastes who don't live near a big city arthouse can find out what the fuss is all about. A masterful Hidetoshi Nishijima plays Yusuke, a recently widowed middle-aged theater actor/director who takes a job helming a multi-lingual production of Chekhov's "Uncle Vanya" at a Hiroshima theater festival. During his residency, Yusuke forms an unlikely bond with the taciturn young woman (Toko Hiura) hired to be his personal driver. Although it runs a leisurely three hours, there's not a single desultory moment here. Grief, guilt, love, loss and (ultimately) acceptance are just some of the big themes Hamaguchi tackles in probing, sensitive fashion. It feels an awful lot like real life, and that's a quality conspicuously absent from most of the movies being made in Hollywood these days. No wonder Academy members flipped over it. The Criterion Blu-Ray includes a new interview with Hamaguchi; a featurette about the making of the film which includes behind-the-scenes footage and interviews with many of the actors; the movie's 2021 Cannes Film Festival press conference; and an essay by National Book Critics Circle finalist and New York Times Magazine columnist Bryan Washington. (A.)
EASTER SUNDAY--Essentially a Filipino-American Tyler Perry movie, Broken Lizards' mainstay Jay Chandrasekhar's big-screen sitcom casts stand-up comic Jo Koy as average dude Joe whose hopes of celebrating Easter with his large, rambunctious family are consistently foiled by one mishap (and misunderstanding) after another. Funny people (including Jimmy O. Yang and Tiffany Haddish) gamely mix it up with actors who aren't necessarily known for their comedic chops (like Lou Diamond Phillips and Tia Carrera), and the result is amiably middling. All that's really missing is a cameo by Perry alter ego Madea. (C.)
EMILY THE CRIMINAL--Aubrey Plaza is sensational playing a disenfranchised L.A. twenty- something whose crushing student loan debt and inability to find a decent job makes her the ideal employee for Youcef (Theo Rossi) and Khali's (Jonathan Avigdori) credit card fraud start-up. As a parable of the 21st century's dog-eat-dog gig economy, first time writer/director John Patton Ford's terse neo-noir rattles the nerves with its willingness to go dark--really dark--at times. But Plaza's deeply empathetic performance and a welcome surfeit of gallows humor insure that it remains compelling (and even sociologically provocative) throughout. (B PLUS.)
EVERYTHING, EVERYWHERE, ALL AT ONCE--Michelle ("Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon," "Crazy Rich Asians") Yeoh plays Evelyn, a Simi Valley immigrant who discovers that the multiverse really exists. A visit to an unctuous IRS auditor (Jamie Lee Curtis) because her family's laundromat is behind on their taxes unleashes Evelyn's inner kung-fu mama. Soon she's battling the dastardly Jabu Tupaki (Stephanie Hsu who does double duty as Evelyn's rebellious lesbian daughter) in an alternative dimension. Directing duo Dan Kwan and Daniel Scheinert (2016's uncategorizable whatzit "Swiss Army Man") pay homage to everything from "The Matrix," "Being John Malkovich," "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" and even Pixar's "Ratatouille" in a very frenetic, vastly entertaining 138 minutes. Surprisingly most of it works, in large measure due to Yeoh who gives a career performance here. Even when it doesn't make complete narrative sense--which, truth be told, is most of the time--it has a built-in emotional logic that keeps you happily jazzed and ultimately, seemingly against all odds, moved. (A MINUS.)
FATHER STU--The first half of this inspirational drama is seemingly (and weirdly) pitched at broad comedy which makes the proselytizing second part even more baffling. Mark Wahlberg plays Stuart Long, a dissolute former boxer turned supermarket clerk who decides to become a Catholic priest after a near-fatal motorcycle accident. A Sunday School teacher --the appealing Teresa Ruiz--provides the spark for his surprising new vocation. Co-producer Wahlberg seems to take all this folderol seriously, and responds with a fiercely committed performance. (He even gained 30 pounds for the role.) Mel Gibson and Jackie Weaver also do nice work as Stuart's estranged parents who have a hard time accepting their formerly agnostic son's conversion. But despite being "inspired by a true story"--yes, there's a real Father Stu--I didn't believe a minute of it. The faithful might have a different response. (C MINUS.)
FIRESTARTER--A better than expected remake of the largely meh 1984 Stephen King adaptation stars Zac Efron as Andy, father of an 11-year-old daughter (Ryan Kiera Armstrong's Charlie) with the uncanny psychic ability to start fires, usually spurred by anger or emotional pain. Although he's been able to control her fiery tendencies until now, encroaching adolescence brings a scary new dimension to Charlie's "talent." When the government sics a top-secret agency to harness her skills for the purpose of manufacturing an unstoppable WOM, dad is forced to take his family (Sydney Lemmon plays Andy's wife/Charlie's mom) on the lam. The first "Firestarter" had a more pedigreed cast--including the post-"E.T." Drew Barrymore and Oscar winners Louise Fletcher and Art Carney--but director Keith (2020's Hasidic art-horror film "The Vigil") Thomas' iteration has more visceral impact--and much better FX. (C PLUS.)
THE FORGIVEN--Ralph Fiennes and Jessica Chastain play David and Jo, a not-so-happily married couple who travel to Morocco for a weekend bacchanal at the desert villa of their London friend (Matt Smith) and his simpering younger lover (Caleb Landry Jones). En route, their rental car hits and kills an Arab teenager. When the boy's father (Ismael Kanater) shows up demanding justice, David is coerced into accompanying him back to the family's rural village, ostensibly to attend the funeral as a sign of respect. Meanwhile, Jo parties heartily while David is away, even bedding another guest (Christopher Abbott). Writer/director John Michael McDonagh, best known for his wonderful Brendan Gleeson two-fer ("Calvary" and "The Guard"), has essentially made a Michel ("New Order," "Sundown") Franco film this time out, albeit one that's slightly less nihilistic and ultimately rather humanist in spirit. The performances are terrific, of course, and McDonagh's wily script keeps you giddily off-balance from start to finish. The ending, however, is as preordained as it is devastating. (B PLUS.)
THE GIRL CAN'T HELP IT--Frank Tashlin's rollicking 1957 showcase for the pulchritudinous charms of iconic pin-up model/actress Jayne Mansfield gets the Criterion Collection treatment, and it's a blast from start to finish. Tashlin, who began his career as an in-house animator at Warner Brothers directing Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies shorts, brought his cartoony visual sensibility--lots of elaborate sight gags, natch--to his live action films, and "The Girl" was one of the crown jewels of his oeuvre In her first starring role, Mansfield plays Jerri Jordan, va-va-voom girlfriend of infamous Long Island gangster "Fats" Murdock (Edmond O'Brien). Because Jerri's sugar daddy thinks she's got star potential, he hires Tom Miller (Tom Ewell), a down-on-his-luck talent agent to transform his future bride into an overnight singing sensation. (The fact that Jerri has no discernible talent is immaterial to Murdock's grand design.) Studded with 17 (count 'em) rock-and-roll numbers by such luminaries as Eddie Cochran, the Platters, Little Richard and Fats Domino, it's a lollapalooza of riches, both aural (that music!) and visual (Tashlin's DeLuxe Color Cinemascope lensing brought real snap, crackle and pop to the film's multi-hued, candy-colored production design). Tashlin and Mansfield would reteam a year later for the even better Madison Avenue spoof, "Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter?" Fingers crossed that Criterion get around to releasing that cult classic some day. The extras are as delightful as the film itself. Scholar Toby Miller does the audio commentary track, and critic David Cairns provides an effusive video essay. There are new interviews with director/Mansfield fanboy John ("Hairspray") Waters and Eve Golden, author of "Jayne Mansfield: The Girl Couldn't Help It;" a conversation between WFMU DJs Dave Abramson and Gaylord about the movie's sublime r&r performances; on-set footage; archival interviews with Mansfield and Little Richard; a Mansfield-focused episode of Karina Longworth's "You Must Remember This" podcast; "The Fame Game," an essay about the film by New Yorker staff writer Rachel Syme; and excerpts from Tashlin's 1952 book, "How to Create Cartooons," with a new introduction by Ethan de Seife, author of "Tashlinesque: The Hollywood Comedies of Frank Tashlin." (A.)
GOD'S COUNTRY--Shot in Montana's majestic Big Sky Country, director Julian Higgins' haunting psychological drama has the flavor of a modern-day western. Sandra (Thandiwe Newton from HBO's "Westworld") plays Sandra, a middle-aged college professor still grieving the recent death of her mother. When she discovers that some local hunters (Joris Jarsky and Jefferson White) are using her driveway as a shortcut to nearby woods, Sandra leaves a note on their windshield politely requesting that they park elsewhere. The battle of wills that develops between the good ole boy usurpers and the aggrieved prof takes place over an increasingly fraught seven days. Complicating Sandra's already fragile equilibrium are tense encounters with a back-stabbing university colleague (Kai Lennox), an ineffectual local sheriff (Jeremy Bobb) and the needy student (Tanaya Beatty) she's been mentoring. Higgins expertly teases suspense throughout, leading to an emotionally charged and cathartic ending. Newton ably carries the film on her shoulders, and you can't take your eyes off her. It's one of the best performances you'll see anywhere this year. (B PLUS.)
HONK FOR JESUS: SAVE YOUR SOUL--Tone-deaf mockumentary about the efforts of Southern Baptist minister Lee Curtis (Sterling K. Brown) and "First Lady" Trinite (Regina Hall) to re-open their Georgia megachurch after a sex scandal (teenage boys were involved) shut them down. Brown and Hall are both immensely gifted performers, but they're let down by first-time screenwriter/director Addamo Ebo who lacks the chops to even finesse the faux doc aspects of her movie. More than half the film seems to exist in a limbo land: neither convincingly "documentary" or plausibly, coherently "fictional." With their gilded thrones, Prada wardrobes and multiple sports cars, the Curtis' are rich satirical targets. Unfortunately, the humor is almost entirely drained out of the movie by frankly amateurish execution. Scenes drag on well past their expiration date, and performances are pitched at a near-hysterical level--culminating with Trinite in whiteface desperately trying to flag down new parishioners on the side of a busy highway. The genesis for the film was Ebo's 15-minute 2018 short. Whoever encouraged her to expand it to feature length was clearly deluded into thinking it could withstand all the conspicuous bloating. (D PLUS.)
THE LAST WALTZ--When Martin Scorsese's magisterial concert documentary opened at New York's Ziegfield Theater in the spring of 1978, I went to see it every week during its lengthy run. Not only did I love the movie with every fiber of my body, but I also knew that I'd never be able to duplicate the experience of seeing the film on the Ziegfield's giant screen, or hearing it in their state of the art Dolby surround sound. Accordingly, it was with some trepidation that I approached the Criterion Collection's new Blu-Ray. Even though its digital restoration was personally supervised and approved by Scorsese, it seemed sadly inevitable that the film I worshipped during my halcyon college days would somehow feel "lesser" 40+ years later when viewed at home on a flatscreen TV. I shouldn't have worried. If anything, the images are even crisper and sharper than I remembered, and the preservation of the original 2.0 surround mix insure that it faithfully duplicates the "Ziegfield Sound" I fetishized in my youth. Envisioned by Scorsese as a recording of the Band's farewell performance at San Francisco's Winterland Ballroom on Thanksgiving weekend 1976, "Waltz" gradually evolved through both the pre and post-production stages into something approaching rock-and-roll--and cinematic--nirvana. Unlike most previous concert docs that simply preserved live shows to serve as a kind of visual/aural correlative, Scorsese painstakingly storyboarded the performances in advance. Assisted by seven camera operators, including masters of the cinematographic art like Vilmos Zsigmond and Laszlo Kovacs, he was able to give "Waltz" the epic flow and rich visual texture of an actual "Movie." And the musical performances--from, among others, Van Morrison, Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell and Neil Young--are expectedly sublime. While history is littered with great rock docs (including Jonathan Demme's "Stop Making Sense," Michael Wadleigh's "Woodstock" and D.A. Pennebaker's "Monterey Pop"), Scorsese's euphoric and elegiac commemoration of one of the seminal moments in rock-and-roll history truly has no equals. Extras include two audio commentaries with Scorsese, members of the Band, the production crew and several concert performers, including MavisStaples, Dr. John and Ronnie Hawkins; David Fear's new interview with Scorsese; a 2002 making-of-the-film documentary; a 1978 interview with Robbie Robertson and Scorsese; and an appreciative essay by New Yorker staff writer Amanda Petrusich. (A PLUS.)
LIGHTYEAR--A prequel of sorts to Pixar's beloved "Toy Story" franchise that serves up Buzz Lightyear's origin story before he became an action figure in Andy's childhood bedroom. (Chris Evans replaces Tim Allen as the voice of the preening young Space Ranger.) The overly busy plot involves Buzz's typically vainglorious attempt to save a colony of settlers on a distant planet from an impending robot apocalypse (James Brolin is the megalomaniacal robot emperor). Although not lacking in Pixar's patented visual razzle dazzle, it isn't likely to go down as one of their finest hours either. For the record, this is the Mouse House subsidiary's 27th feature to date. (B MINUS.)
MACK & RITA--Poor Diane Keaton. She keeps getting trapped in one cringey dud after another. And debut helmer Katie Aselton's terminally twee body-swapping comedy is another career miscalculation. During a Palm Springs bachelorette party, struggling writer and wannabe social influencer Mack (Elizabeth Lail) morphs into "Aunt Rita" (Keaton) thanks to a past life regression chamber. (Don't ask.) The fact that flailing Millennial Mack is more successful, evolved and comfortable in her own skin as AARP diva "Rita" is apparently the movie's point. But it's lost amid a barrage of sub-"Golden Girls" jokes that make it feel cheap and hopelessly dated. A national treasure like Keaton deserves better than this warmed-over sitcom. Much better. (D.)
MEMORY--Liam Neeson plays yet another hired assassin in director Martin ("Casino Royale," Antonio Banderas' "Zorro" movies) Campbell's pro forma "Liam NeesonAction Flick." When Neeson's Alex Lewis develops a crisis of conscience and refuses to go through with his latest job, he's forced to hunt down and kill his employers before they--and a twitchy FBI agent played by a clearly bored Guy Pearce--catch up with him. The fact that Alex has begun to lose his memory (or maybe just his marbles; it's sometimes hard to tell) complicates things. A still-ravishing Monica ("Irreversible") Bellucci turns up briefly as a Eurotrash dragon lady to provide a much-needed shot of estrogen. Neeson's latest shoulda-been-straight-to-video programmer cobbles together elements of 2011's "Unknown" (e.g., the whole amnesia/memory loss gambit) and, well, pretty much any/every post-"Taken" Neeson actioner. A career slickster like Campbell insures that the whole thing is "watchable" enough, but he never remotely convinced me that his film was actually worth sitting through. At least not in a theater. (C MINUS.)
MEN--In the hopes of recovering from the trauma of her late husband's suicide, Harper ("The Lost Daughter" Oscar nominee Jesse Buckley) takes a two-week sabbatical in the English countryside where she encounters an endless procession of awful--and in some cases, downright sinister--men. The fact that they're all played by the same actor (Rory Kinnear in a bravura performance) insures that the audience remains as psychologically unhinged as Harper herself. Cult writer/director Alex ("Ex Machina," "Annihilation") Garland's terrifying and insanely provocative new film plays like a feminist response to David Cronenberg's legendary "body horror" movies (The Fly," "They Came from Within," et al), and the teasingly ambiguous ending will either blow your mind or make you want to throw something at the screen. As cinematic freak-outs go, it's very much in distributer A24's wheelhouse of cerebral chillers like "Hereditary," "Midsummar" and "The Witch." I dug it. (A MINUS.)
MR. KLEIN--In Vichy France, antique/art dealer Robert Klein (Alain Delon) makes a financial killing buying and selling artwork previously owned by Jews who are fleeing the country en masse. An opportunist with zero scruples and seemingly no moral compass, Klein's life of Aryan privilege is threatened when he's mistaken for another "Robert Klein," a Jew who's also a member of the French Resistance. The cat and mouse game that ensues as Klein stalks Klein in an attempt to clear his name is curiously removed from traditional movie "suspense." Instead, director Joseph ("The Go Between," "Accident") Losey chooses to play the Hitchcockian premise as an Antonioni-esque exercise in spatial dislocation and spiritual alienation. Interestingly enough, "Z"/"Missing" director Costa-Gavras was originally pegged to helm Franco ("The Battle of Algiers") Solinas' script. Losey, meanwhile, was otherwise engaged on a Marcel Proust adaptation that got stalled in pre-production hell. While I have no doubt that Gavras would have made a fine film directing his "State of Siege" scenarist's screenplay, Losey's more distanced, elliptical approach brings unexpected depth and layers of meaning to the cloak-and-dagger intrigue. Reuniting with Delon four years after 1972's "The Assassination of Trotsky" (another great Losey film crying out for a Blu-Ray release), Losey won the Best Director Cesar award--France's equivalent to the Oscars---and the film itself captured the Best Picture prize. Extras on the new Criterion Collection Blu-Ray include 1976 interviews with Losey and Delon; "Story of a Day," a 1986 documentary about the real-life rounding up and deportation of French Jews that figures prominently in the movie's climax; interviews with critic Michel Ciment and Henri Lanoe, one of the film's three editors; and an essay by British professor/critic Ginette Vincendeau that helps contextualize "Mr. Klein" within both Losey and Delon's oeuvres. (A.)
MR. MALCOLM'S LIST--Borrowing the multi-cultural casting that made Netflix's similar British period rom-com "Bridgerton" an international sensation, director Emma Holly Jones' charming adaptation of Suzanne Allain's best-selling, self-published 2009 novel is an unexpected treat. Sope Dirisu plays the titular role, London's most eligible bachelor and a bit of a prig who's compiled a list of requirements for any future mate. Any deviation results in immediate banishment. Spoiled heiress Julia (Zawe Ashten), the latest casualty, decides to get even for her humiliating rejection. She enlists the help of childhood friend Selina (Frieida Pinto of "Slumdog Millionaire" fame) to enact revenge. Julia instructs Selina on how to seduce Malcolm, then jilt him just when he's ready to pop the matrimonial question. Of course, true love always follows its own course, and there's both heartbreak and copious laughs along the way to a happily-ever-after conclusion. Allain modeled her tome on Jane Austen's "Pride and Prejudice," and Jones' film plays a lot like Austen Lite. While hardly original, it's pretty hard to resist for anyone willing to go along with the untraditional casting choices. (B.)
MRS. HARRIS GOES TO PARIS--Ada Harris (Lesley Manville), a widowed cleaning lady in mid-1950's England, saves up her hard-earned pounds for a trip to Paris so she can buy a dress from the House of Dior. That seemingly impulsive decision has a profound effect on her previously cosseted life. Mrs. Harris makes new friends (including Dior employees Lambert Wilson, Alba Baptiste and Lucas Bravo), single-handedly rallies on behalf of Dior seamstresses in danger of losing their jobs and makes a frenemy in Dior's haughty doyenne (a deliciously imperious Isabelle Huppert) who doesn't understand why a frumpy British matron would want, or even need, a Dior original. Director Anthony Fabian's Necco wafer-colored divertissement is a delicious throwback to the type of classy, but accessible film that used to be the bread, butter and foie gras of domestic arthouses. Whether mature audiences will turn out to make it the sleeper hit it deserves to be in 2022 remains to be seen. My one caveat is slavishly multicultural casting that weakens Fabian's otherwise painstaking verisimilitude. (Sorry, but the House of Dior would have never hired Black and Asian showroom models 60+ years ago.) Manville, no stranger to the world of haute couture thanks to her Oscar-nominated turn as Daniel Day Lewis' sister in Paul Thomas Anderson's "Phantom Thread," delivers a career performance that deserves to be remembered at Oscar time. (A MINUS.)
THE NORTHMAN--The word "visionary" is tossed around pretty loosely these days in marketing circles, but director Robert ("The Witch," "The Lighthouse") Eggers is one of the few who genuinely earns that lofty approbation. Eggers' latest--which also happens to be his most accessible film to date--is a 9th century Viking saga as proudly, stubbornly idiosyncratic as his previous work, but on a (much) grander scale. His distinct and distinctive worldview hasn't been diminished a whit by what I'm assuming was a vastly larger budget than he was previously accustomed to. Alexander Skarsgard plays the strapping Prince Amleth who has spent much of his life plotting bloody revenge against the uncle (Claes Bang) who slayed his father (Ethan Hawke) in a bid for his mother (Nicole Kidman, dependably strong). Yes, the Shakespearean allusions (hey there, Prince of Denmark) are all pretty much on the nose, down to Willem Dafoe's manic court jester who's an inspired mash-up of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. "Queens Gambit" breakout Anya Taylor-Joy is "Olga of the Birch Forest," Amleth's love interest and co-conspirator; turns out she's got vengeance on her mind, too. It's the kind of gleefully bonkers movie where Icelandic songbird Bjork shows up as a--what else?--blind seer. Although Eggers gilds the lily a bit with an overly generous 136-minute run time (the first half admittedly drags), this is precisely the kind of auteurist-filmmaking-on-an-epic-scale (think Francis Ford Coppola's "Apocalypse Now") that's mostly gone out of fashion in these days of cookie-cutter franchise tentpoles. I salute it. (A MINUS.)
PAWS OF FURY: THE LEGEND OF HANK--Samuel L. Jackson trains hapless pup Michael Cera on the ways of the samurai so he can save a village of dog-hating kitties from being decimated by dastardly rotter Ricky Gervais. If that brief plot synopsis sounds vaguely familiar, it's because this is a loose remake of Mel Brooks' "Blazing Saddles." Because it's a largely benign animated film aimed at a kiddie demographic, Brooks' edgy, non-p.c. humor is conspicuously (and predictably) absent. The CGI animation isn't appreciably better than anything you'd find on a Netflix 'toon series, but the screenplay--credited to seven, count 'em, writers--has enough scraps of "Saddles"-y wit to keep any accompanying grown-ups from bailing or falling asleep. (C PLUS.)
PHANTOM OF THE OPEN--Oscar winner Mark Rylance stars as pink-slipped British factory worker Maurice Fitcroft who takes up golfing on a whim, then somehow manages to qualify for the British Open despite never having played a single game. The fact that Maurice is a legitimately terrible golfer doesn't stop him from becoming a working class hero, and his fame (or infamy) makes him a worldwide phenom rather than a mere laughingstock. Craig Roberts' Cockney-accented fairy tale is based on a true story--yes, there was a real Maurice Fitcroft--yet as portrayed here his story is more "Ripley's Believe it or Not" fantastical than kitchen-sink realism. Sally Hawkins and Rhys Ifans who starred in Roberts' 2019 film "Eternal Beauty" play, respectively, Maurice's saintly wife and his British Open antagonist, and they're dependably good company. But true story or not, I was never remotely convinced that Fitcroft's life demanded or even deserved a big-screen biopic treatment. Amateur golfers might feel otherwise. The new SPC DVD includes a bonus featurette, "Finding Fitcroft," for those who want to learn more about the film's aspirational protagonist. (C.)
PINK FLAMINGOS--In the original Variety review, a critic described John Waters' career-launching provocation as "one of the most vile, stupid and repulsive films ever made." Establishment critical response never really improved over time either. While writing about "Pink Flamingos" at the time of its 25th anniversary, Grand Poobah Roger Ebert considered the movie so utterly loathsome that he didn't even bother awarding a star rating. Alrighty then. So I guess it's only fitting that the tony Criterion Collection would ultimately choose to release it on a splendiferous 50th (!?) anniversary collector's edition Blu-Ray. Not having seen "Flamingos" since January 1977--on a double bill with Waters' 1975 follow-up, "Female Trouble," at New York City's Cinema Village--I worried that it couldn't possibly live up to my initial "OMG, I can't believe what I'm watching!" and "This is so cool!" enthusiasm. Surely a half century of distance would render Waters' $12,000 mondo transgression, well, quaint. But like very few works from that era once deemed "shocking" or "taboo, "Flamingos" officially joins "The Devils," "Salo," "The Damned" and "Last Tango in Paris" as a rare cause celebre which remains every bit as nerve-rattling as it did back in the day. Future Waters drag queen superstar Divine (aka Glenn Milstead, Waters' high school buddy) had her signature role as Babs Jordan, the "Filthiest Person Alive." Living in a seedy Baltimore trailer park with her cretinous son (Danny Mills), an idolatrous floozy (Mary Vivien Pierce) and her clearly demented, gap-toothed mother (the incomparable Edith "Edie the Egg Lady" Massey), Babs is currently embroiled in a heated battle to defend her filthy crown from suburban weirdos Connie and Raymond Marble (Mink Stole and David Lochary). Although they ultimately foil the dastardly Marbles (revenge is a dish best served with tar, chicken feathers and a gun), Babs & Co. are ultimately forced to relocate to Boise, Idaho, culminating in one of the most notorious final scenes in underground cinema history. (Yes, dog poo is involved.) Included among the copious, Criterion-outdoes-
themselves-once-again extras are "Divine Trash," Steve Yeagers' rollicking 1998 feature documentary about the making of the film ; two audio commentaries, both featuring Waters, taken from the 1997 Criterion laserdisc and a 2001 DVD; a chatty new conversation between Waters and fellow indie auteur Jim Jarmusch; Waters' guided tour of the movie's now-infamous Baltimore locations; deleted scenes/alternate takes; a collectible "Pink Phelgm-Ingo" barf bag; an essay by critic Howard Hampton which makes the case that "poor taste can be timeless" while referencing everyone from R.W. Fassbinder, Jean-Luc Godard, Douglas Sirk, Dusan Makavejev and the Marx Brothers; and a fond remembrance about the making of the film by Waters comrade in arms Cookie Mueller excerpted from Mueller's 1990 book, "Walking Through Clear Water on a Pool Painted Black." With such an embarrassment of goodies, how could I not give it anything but an (A PLUS)
PINOCCHIO--Technically dazzling with a near seamless blend of live action and CGI animation, the latest iteration of the Carlo Collodi kid-lit classic is also, like Jon Favreau's "live action" "Lion King" reboot from 2019, largely superfluous. Except for a gratuitous politically-correct gloss, Robert ("Who Framed Roger Rabbit") Zemeckis' version follows the plot of Disney's wholly animated 1940 "Pinocchio" down to the letter. Longtime Zemeckis collaborator Tom Hanks plays Geppetto, and it's nearly as eccentric a performance as the two-time Oscar winner's Colonel Tom Parker in "Elvis." The movie is narrated by Jimmy Cricket (Joseph Gordon-Levitt does the vocal duties) who sounds an awful lot like "South Park"'s Christmas fecal, Mr. Hankey. Weird, huh? For the record, Matteo Garrone's 2020 Italian-language "Pinocchio" is your best bet if you're looking for a more stylistically daring and less conventional rendering of Collodi's beloved fairy tale. STREAMING EXCLUSIVELY ON DISNEY+ (B MINUS.)
THOR: LOVE AND THUNDER--More like a zany MAD Magazine parody than a conventional super hero flick, the fourth Thor movie starring Chris Hemsworth in the title role isn't quite in the same league as 2017's "Ragnarok," but it's still head and shoulders above the cookie-cutter Marvel norm. Like "Ragnarok," "Love and Thunder" was directed by freewheeling New Zealand auteur Taika ("JoJo Rabbit," "What We Do in the Shadows") Waititi, and it's his waggish, impudent sensibility that makes the film so much fun. The big news this time is the return of Thor's ex, Jane Foster (Nathalie Portman), and her ability to wield the Mjolnir--that's a hammer to you and me--effectively makes Jane the new "Thor." Or something like that. it's not the easiest movie to follow on a plot-point by plot-point basis. Because it's Marvel, there has to be a Big Bad, and a somewhat underutilized Christian Bale has a ball as God Butcher Gorr whose overriding ambition to destroy every god in the universe renders him a major threat to Thor, Jane, Valkyrie (Tessa Thompson), Korg (Waititi) and even Zeus himself (Russell Crowe hamming it up as the mythological Greek deity). There's a lot of "stuff" here--probably too much for its relatively circumspect two-hour run time--and it doesn't all run smoothly. (A meta subplot involving a "Thor" movie-within-this-movie feels like something Charlie Kaufman would have abandoned after a weekend doing 'shrooms.) But it's so good-natured and laugh-out-loud funny that only spoilsports would deny Waititi his occasional curlicues. Plus, the Thor/Jane love story is genuinely sweet and even touching. (B.)
THREE THOUSAND YEARS OF LONGING--One of Mad Max auteur George Miller's rare now-genre films is a live-action "Aladdin" strictly for grown-ups. Chameleonic Oscar-winner Tilda Swinton plays divorced British academic Dr. Altihea Binnie who buys an antique lamp in an open-air market while attending a conference in Istanbul. Back in her hotel room, a Djinn (that's "genie" to you and me) pops out of the lamp and offers her three wishes in exchange for his freedom. The Djinn (Idris Elba) turns out to be a bit of a romantic, still pining over a lost love from centuries ago. Because Altihea is a narratologist--i.e., a scholar of stories--she naturally prompts the Djinn to share his past life experiences. Accordingly, much of the film is devoted to his and her competing flashbacks told in a whimsically--sometimes luxuriantly--stylized manner befitting a mise-en-scene ace like Miller. Adapted from A.S. Byatt's celebrated short story, the movie works as a poetic metaphor for the soul-crushing loneliness that binds Alithea and the Djinn. "What is your heart's desire?" The answer may surprise you. (B PLUS.)
THE UNBEARABLE WEIGHT OF MASSIVE TALENT--Nicolas Cage plays himself in director Tom Gormican's waggishly amusing meta action-comedy that's maybe a little too clever for its own good, but still good fun. A cash-strapped Cage is coerced by his slickster Tinseltown agent (Neil Patrick Harris, predictably unctuous) into accepting a million dollar payday to attend a lavish birthday party in Mallorca hosted by superfan Javi Gutierrez (Pedro Pascal from Disney's "The Mandalorian"). Cage and Javi wind up bonding over their shared love for movies--not just Nic Cage movies either; even "Paddington 2" gets a shout-out--and quickly become BFFs. But when two CIA agents (Tiffany Haddish and Ike Barinholtz) show up and inform Nic that Javi is really the ruthless head of an international arms cartel, the "Leaving Las Vegas" Oscar winner is conflicted. Should he help bring down his new buddy, or save his butt instead? Loaded with goofy references to past Cage flicks ("The Rock" and "Con Air" are apparently sacrosanct in the Cage-Verse), the film is buoyed by Cage's "massive talent" and his off-the-charts chemistry with a wildly charismatic Pascal who's the most likable--dare I say, "lovable?--bad guy in recent memory. (B.)
VENGEANCE--Smarmy Brooklyn journalist Ben (B.J. Novak, who also wrote and directed) travels to a tiny West Texas oil town for the funeral of a former hook-up (Lio Tipton). Apparently the dead girl's family thought he was her soon-to-be-fiance, and since Ben has podcast ambitions he figures it'll be grist for a new online sensation. What he hadn't anticipated was how warm a welcome he'd receive from said family, or that everyone--especially big brother Ty (Boyd Holbrook)--is convinced she was murdered. (The official cause of death was an opioid overdose.) This twisty dark comedy would have probably benefited from a different leading man: sitcom veteran Novak strikes too callow a presence, and his performance carries precious little emotional heft. But the supporting cast (including a never-better Ashton Kutcher as a Yale-educated music producer who knows more about the girl's death than he initially lets on) is terrific, and the movie held me right up to its unexpectedly touching ending. (B.)
---Milan Paurich