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ANT-MAN AND THE WASP: QUANTUMANIA--Like Taika Waititi's Thor movies, the "Ant Man" flicks have always been among the easier-to-take Marvel Corp. products, mostly due to their waggish sense of humor and inspired casting. The third of director Peyton Reed's lightly likable A-M entries reunites the old gang--forever-boyish Paul Rudd, Evangeline Lily, Michael Douglas and, in the film's best performance, Michelle Pfeiffer--and wisely brings along some new blood, namely Jonathan ("Devotion") Majors as Big Bad Kang the Conqueror and the great Bill Murray as his puckish henchman, Lord Krylar. The plot is typical Marvel gobbledygook (something to do with the "Quantum Realm" multiverse which resembles a CGI amusement park designed by '60s maestro of psychedelia Peter Max), but Reed maintains a relatively breezy pace throughout. It's nobody's idea of "Cinema," certainly not Martin Scorsese's, but it's not half-bad either. (B MINUS.)
AVATAR: THE WAY OF WATER--The first of James Cameron's promised "Avatar" sequels (three more are currently in production) has finally arrived, a mere 13 years after the original. To be perfectly honest, I hardly remember the first "Avatar" all that well despite having put it on my 2009 10-best list. (It was #7; I looked it up.) So this $350-million follow-up felt less like a continuation of an ongoing story than a standalone movie with cutting-edge CGI that will surely become the industry standard for decades to come. Paralyzed former Marine Jake (Sam Worthington) remains the series' leading character, now a full-fledged Na'vi himself thanks to having married Neytiri (Zoe Saldana) with whom he's started a family. (They have four kids.) Their antagonists are the "Sky People," led by the dastardly Colonel Quaritch (Stephen Lang, another holdover from the earlier film) whose mission is to colonize Edenic Pandora with displaced earthlings, thereby upsetting the ecological balance of the universe. To help ward off this imminent threat, Jake and his fellow Na'vis form an alliance with the Metkayina clan who are pretty much identical to the Na'vis except for their Maori-like tribal tattoos. But like most Cameron movies, plot--and dialogue which remains his Achilles Heel--takes a back seat to sheer, knock-your-socks-off spectacle. And on that count, "The Way of Water" truly delivers. The underwater sequences are particularly mind-blowing: so uncannily tactile and immersive they're like a Virtual Reality theme park ride minus the dorky headsets. Cameron's assiduous attention to world-building dwarfs every other fantasy franchise/tentpole you've ever seen, and pretty much rewrites the book on what an "event movie" is supposed to be. It's safe to say that we ain't seen nuthin' yet. (A.)
80 FOR BRADY--For the AARP crowd who found "Book Club" too egghead-y (books, ewwww!), this gridiron-themed distaff buddy comedy stars Jane Fonda, Sally Field, Lily Tomlin and Rita Moreno as four lifelong pals who win tickets to the 2017 Super Bowl in Houston, the better to cheer on their fave rave, Patriots quarterback Tom Brady. (Brady plays himself and co-produced the film.) Hokey and too silly by half, the movie still works on the goodwill of its old pro cast. They could have cut the Guy Fieri cameo though (the supremely unctuous "Mayor of Flavortown" turns up to judge a hot wings contest). At least it's better than some of Diane Keaton's woebegone recent comedies. (C PLUS.)
KNOCK AT THE CABIN--While on vacation in the Pennsylvania woods, a gay couple (Jonathan Groff and Ben Aldrige) and their adopted daughter (Kristen Cui) are visited by Dave Bautista and his mysterious associates and tasked with a "Sophie's Choice" style conundrum. Do they save their family, or all of humanity? Based on Paul Tremblay's award-winning 2018 novel, M. Night Shyamalan's latest crafty, twisty, metaphysically-inclined thriller is all set-up, but that set-up--and the first half of the movie before it begins treading water--is a doozy. (B.)
MAGIC MIKE'S LAST DANCE--The third "Magic Mike" movie reunites star Channing Tatum with the original director, Steven Soderbergh, and it's a winner. After his nascent carpentry business goes bust, a newly humbled Mike (Tatum) is reduced to working as a bartender in Florida where he meets Maxandra Mendoza, (Selma Hayek), the soon-to-be-ex trophy wife of a billionaire media mogul. After some private dirty dancing, Max whisks Mike off to London where, under her tutelage, he stages a comeback of sorts by directing a Vegas-y, West End version of his strip-o-rama. Yes, the script could have probably used an additional pass (or two: it's fairly boilerplate), but Tatum and Hayek make a sizzling September-December couple and Soderbergh, at this stage of his remarkable career, is seemingly incapable of making a wrong move. This is the "Erin Brockovich" auteur's first theatrical release since 2018's "Unsane," but Soderbergh directed five--count 'em--streaming movies (four for HBO MAX; one for Netflix) in that time, all of them unequivocally first-rate. If this really is Mike's last hurrah, he and the franchise are going out with a bang. (B PLUS.)
A MAN CALLED OTTO--Based upon the Oscar-nominated 2015 Swedish film, "A Man Called Ove," director Marc ("Finding Neverland," "World War Z") Forster's pitch-perfect English-language remake gives Tom Hanks his best leading role in years. As Otto Anderson, a curmudgeonly Pittsburgh widower whose determined abrasiveness gradually melts after reluctantly making friends with his new neighbor (the wonderful Mariana Trevino), Hanks will crack you up then break your heart. This is the very definition of an old-fashioned "feel-good movie," and if Sony can't turn it into a word-of-mouth hit there really is no hope for the future of theatrical releases that aren't IP-driven or franchise and tentpole movies. (A.)
MARLOWE--Liam Neeson plays Raymond Chandler's iconic private eye Philip Marlowe in director Neil ("The Crying Game") Jordan's weirdly denatured film noir pastiche. Although set in late 1930's California, this somnambulant movie was actually shot in Dublin and Barcelona, which might explain why it seems to exist in a tax shelter No Man's Land. Based on novelist John Banville's 2014 Chandler homage, the plot involves a down on his luck Marlowe hired to track down the MIA lover (Francois Arnaud) of spoiled heiress Diane Kruger. As Kruger's ex-movie star mom, screen legend Jessica Lange steals every scene she's in and almost makes the film worth seeing. The third act--when Neeson's Marlowe kicks into avenging daddy "Taken" mode--is less exciting than risible. Nice support from Danny Huston, Alan Cumming, Ian Hart and Colm Meany although it's doubtful any of them will bother adding it to their Wikipedia page. (C MINUS.)
M3GAN--Robotics engineer Gemma (Allison Williams from "Get Out" and HBO's "Girls") unwisely allows A.I.-generated robot doll M3Gan (Amie Donald) to become the constant companion--surrogate parent, nanny, BFF and tutor all rolled into one--of her orphaned niece (Violet McGraw). Anyone who's seen "Child's Play," "Ex Machina," or the "Annabelle" and "Boy" movies could tell you that's probably not going to work out very well. New Zealand director Gerard Johnstone, best known for the cultish 2014 haunted domicile flick, "Housebound, brings a puckish sense of dark humor to the generic set-up, but it's nothing you haven't seen before. (C PLUS.)
MISSING--A spin-off of the 2018 sleeper "Searching," this cyber thriller about the power and perils of social media platforms stars Storm ("Euphoria") Reid as 18-year-old June who becomes an amateur internet sleuth when her widowed mom (Nia Long) disappears while on a Colombian vacation with her boyfriend (Ken Leung from HBO's "Industry"). Aiding in the search is BFF Veena (Megan Suri) and a private investigator (Joaquim de Almeido), but most of the grunt work is done by June herself who unearths mom's digital footprints (the movie makes it look surprisingly easy). Written and directed by first-timers Nick Johnson and Will Merrick, the film has a few too many gaping plot holes, but a brisk pace and Reid's empathetic performance make it modestly engaging despite a slightly overlong 111 minutes. Ironically (or not), it's the type of movie that will probably work better on a small screen than in theaters. (B MINUS.)
PUSS IN BOOTS: THE LAST WISH--After Puss (Antonio Banderas) uses up the eighth of his nine lives, he begins an existentialist quest to locate the fabled "Wishing Star" and (hopefully) restore his lost lives. Along for the ride are his jilted ex-fiancee Kitty Soft Paws (Salma Hayek) and irrepressible canine help-mate Perro (Harvey Guillen). Complicating their Candide-like journey are a number of combative fairy tale characters also seeking the magical star, including a kung-fu fighting Goldilocks (Florence Pugh) and her Three Bears (Olivia Colman, Ray Winstone and Samson Kayo); Big Jack Horner (John Mulaney); and the fearsome Big Bad Wolf (Wagner Moura). Surprisingly, this belated sequel to 2011's forgettable "Puss in Boots" is one of the year's very best animated movies. It's gorgeously animated, genuinely witty and as much fun for grown-ups as it is for the tiniest of tots. (B PLUS.)
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BABYLON--The "most" movie of 2022 and also the finest, Oscar-winning "La La Land" director Damien Chazelle's breathtaking swing for the fences chronicles Hollywood's wobbly transition from silent to sound movies. Chazelle's mastery of tone (and scale) is positively breathtaking here. What begins as a riotous screwball farce ultimately segues into something approximating Greek tragedy. And all the stuff in between--and there's plenty of "stuff," trust me--is equally enthralling. Margot Robbie plays an aspiring starlet willing to do pretty much anything (yes, anything) to make it in the picture business. And as the John Gilbert-like star worried that his days of being the king of Tinseltown are numbered, Brad Pitt brings such a soulful gravity to the role that he brought tears to my eyes. Equally impressive are Diego Calvo (a Mexican immigrant who rises from studio gofer to studio boss), Jovan Adepo (the "hot jazz" trumpeter seduced and ultimately betrayed by Hollywood), Jean Smart (an imperious, proto Hedda Hopper gossip columnist) and former "Spider-Man" Tobey Maguire who's downright terrifying as a psychopathic gangster. Not since Quentin Tarantino's "Once Upon a Time...in Hollywood" has there been a movie as thoroughly besotted with the film industry, its storied (and frequently checkered) history and the movers, shakers and hangers-on who keep the machine humming. The tech work is equally stunning, with Justin Hurwitz's haunting score and Linus Sandgren's crystalline cinematography deserving of special mention. It's another Chazelle masterwork, and single-handedly redeems a rather desultory movie year. (A PLUS.)
THE BANSHEES OF INISHERIN--When lifelong friend Colm (Brendan Gleeson) announces seemingly out of the blue, "I just don't like you no more," Padraic (Colin Farrell) is so devastated he makes it his mission to change Colm's mind. Enlisting the support of his sister (Kerry Condon) and a local lad (Barry Keoghan), Padraic soon discovers that their entire island community on the west coast of Ireland has a stake in the outcome. Set in 1923, writer/director Martin ("Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri) McDonagh's fantastic new movie has the whimsy and inadvertent gravity of a fable passed down through generations. McDonagh's dual career as one of the leading playwrights of his generation is evidenced in his wonderfully idiosyncratic dialogue--profane and poetic at the same time--which his stellar cast delivers in typically bravura fashion. Farrell and Gleeson, who memorably played a pair of hapless hitmen in McDonagh's 2008 filmmaking debut (2008's "In Bruges"), give career performances that are sure to be remembered at awards time. You'll never be able to predict the ending, but it's guaranteed to knock the wind out of your sails. I was shaken and stirred. (A.)
BLACK PANTHER: WAKANDA FOREVER--How do you make a 161-minute Black Panther movie without the Black Panther/King T'Challa (the late Chadwick Boseman)? Very, very carefully. Ryan Coogler's sequel to his 2018 Marvel blockbuster treads a fine line between Afrocentric boosterism and comic book mayhem, and it's not really a comfortable fit. Accordingly, the Wakanda scenes are infinitely more interesting--and certainly more colorful thanks to some truly spectacular costume and production design--than the fairly rote action setpieces. This sophomore entry in Marvel's billion dollar franchise feels like a placeholder until they finally get around to recasting the lead role. (C.)
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.)
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.)
THE FABELMANS--Steven Spielberg's quasi-autobiographical film about growing up as a movie nerd in the 1960's is both a love letter to his parents (warmly played by Paul Dano and Michelle Williams) as well as the entire filmmaking process. Spielberg surrogate Sammy Fabelman (appealing newcomer Gabriel LaBelle) navigates the usual teen angst as his family relocates from Arizona to Northern California--where he experiences virulent anti-Semitism from some preppie classmates--while beginning to forge his identity as a fledgling auteur. Although this two-and-a-half hour film takes awhile to kick into gear, the ultimate effect is deeply moving and, for Spielberg and probably a good chunk of the audience, emotionally cathartic. Wonderful support from, among others, Seth Rogen, Jeannie Berlin, Judd Hirsch and, in a delightful cameo, David Lynch as legendary Hollywood director John Ford. (A.)
HOUSE PARTY--Two house cleaners (Tosin Cole and Jacob Latimore) with dreams of becoming club promoters have the bright idea of turning their latest job site-- basketball great LeBron James' crib--into the setting for an invitation-only party. Music vid helmer Calmatic's feature debut is a coarse, witless reboot of the charming same-named 1990 hip-hop comedy that has no reason to exist other than exploit a long dormant IP. (C MINUS.)
INFINITY POOL--This spectacularly creepy freak-out by Brandon ("Possessor") Cronenberg--the writer/director son of Cinefantastique master David--casts Alexander (Vampire Eric from "True Blood") Skarsgard as James, a blocked writer on vacation with his wife (Cleopatra Coleman) at a posh, "White Lotus"-like beach resort in the fictional La Tolqa. A chance encounter with a fan ("X" and "Pearl" breakout Mia Goth) precipitates an impromptu day trip culminating in a fatal car accident with James behind the wheel. To get out of his impending legal trouble, James is forced to pay a hefty price tag...in more ways than one. Despite a somewhat protracted two-hour run time, Cronenberg and his gifted cast keep you happily goosed (and frequently grossed out). Like most outre NEON releases (including their divisive Best Picture nominee "Triangle of Sadness"), it's definitely not for everyone. But don't be surprised if it picks up a rabid fanbase once hitting streaming services and home video. (A MINUS.)
LARS VON TRIER'S EUROPE TRILOGY--Kraftwerk's hypnotic techno dirge "Europe Endless" played in my head while dipping into the Criterion Collection's new box set of former enfant terrible Lars Von Trier's "Europe Trilogy." I've been a Von Trier enthusiast since first seeing "Zentropa" back in 1992 (it was originally called "Europa" before the U.S. distributer requested a title change so it wouldn't be confused with Agnieszka Holland's "Europa, Europa" released the previous year), but I'd never had the chance to check out his first two movies. 1984's "The Element of Crime" is a baroque procedural in which a retired detective (perpetually gloomy Michael Elphnick) is enlisted to help investigate a serial killer targeting young girls. Shot in sepia with the occasional pop of bold primary colors (e.g., a red Coke can), the film is actually more interesting visually than it is narratively. Von Trier himself plays dual roles in 1987's meta-before-its-time "Epidemic." Besides essaying a variation of "Lars Von Trier," a director whose most recent script vanished in a computer mishap, he also plays an epidemiologist tackling a contemporary variant of the Bubonic Plague. Needless to say it feels even more scarily relevant in today's Covid environment than it probably did at the time. Unfortunately, the movie itself is borderline jejune: one of those overweening in-jokes that must have seemed cleverer in the development stage than it does onscreen. "Zentropa," however, remains as brilliant as ever. Set in post-WW II Germany, it stars Jean-Marc Barr as an American working as a Pullman conductor who falls for the heiress (Fassbinder rep player Barbara Sukowa) whose family owned the trains used to transport Jews to concentration camps during the war. With its bravura mix of b&w and color, double-exposures and dizzying optical effects, it's a hypnotic experience that deservedly won Von Trier the 1991 Best Director prize at Cannes. Max von Sydow provides suitably otherworldly narration, Joakin Holbek's score playfully riffs on Bernard Herrmann's legendary "Vertigo" score and "Alphaville" tough guy Eddie Constantine pops up in a supporting role. Not surprisingly, the bountiful extras are Criterion-formidable. All titles include commentary tracks w/ Von Trier and sundry guests, and each disc contains separate making-of documentaries. There's also a 2005 interview with Von Trier about the trilogy; two short Von Trier student films ("Nocturne" and "Images of Liberation"); Von Trier's 1991 Danish television interview; and an essay by critic Howard Hampton which neatly contextualizes the movies within Von Trier's subsequent oeuvre. ("The Element of Crime," B; "Epidemic," C; "Zentropa," A.; cumulative grade, "A MINUS.")
LOST HIGHWAY--By 1997, most people seemed to have grown impatient with David Lynch. Hence the chilly reception this movie received from both critics and audiences at the time of its release. Maybe it was the lack of closure to Lynch's "Twin Peaks" TV series. Or perhaps the generally perceived "self-indulgence" of his most recent big-screen films ("Wild at Heart" and "Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me") cooled them on the visionary "Eraserhead"/"Blue Velvet" auteur. But as someone who loved "Lost Highway" at first sight--I saw it on opening day at an Orlando, Florida multiplex where half the audience walked out before the movie ended--living to see the Criterion Collection release this legendary film maudit feels an awful lot like poetic justice. In a 180-degree switch from his role the previous summer as the alien-busting president in Roland Emmerich's "Independence Day," Bill Pullman plays Fred Madison, an L.A. jazz musician who's accused of murdering his wife Renee (Patricia Arquette). The fact that Fred somehow morphs into Pete (Balthazar Getty), a considerably younger auto mechanic, while cooling his heels in a jail cell is the least of the movie's bewildering dualisms. How about Renee somehow being transformed into "Alice," the mistress of an abusive hoodlum (a properly terrifying Robert Loggia)? And I haven't even mentioned the "far out, man" supporting cast which includes everyone from Richard Pryor in one of his last screen roles, Gary Busey, musician Henry Rollins, Lynch repertory player Jack Nance and Robert Blake (gulp) as "The Mystery Man" whose hauntingly cryptic words to Fred at a party ("We met at your house; as a matter of fact, I'm there right now") may--or may not--hold the secret to the myriad, shape-shifting mysteries that are afoot. As much film noir as science fiction/horror, "Highway" marked the second and final collaboration between Lynch and author Barry Gifford (who penned the book "Wild at Heart" was based on), and it's a doozy. Extras on the newly released Blu-Ray include Toby Keeler's indispensable feature-length 1997 documentary, "Pretty as a Picture: The Art of David Lynch," featuring Lynch, Gifford and frequent creative associates Angelo Badalamenti and Mary Sweeney; archival interviews with Lynch, Pullman, Arquette and Loggia; a suitably otherworldly reading by Lynch and critic Kristine McKenna of excerpts from their 2018 book, "Room to Dream;" and selections from an interview with Lynch taken from Chris Rodley's scholarly tome, "Lynch on Lynch." (A.)
MALCOLM X--A great American movie by one of America's finest living filmmakers, Spike Lee's 1992 cradle-to-the-grave biopic of the titular civil rights leader finally receives the Criterion Collection treatment--and was well worth the wait. Anchored by Denzel Washington's towering performance as the divisive Muslim figurehead who was assassinated in 1965, it's one of the few movies in modern screen history to feel truly "epic." At three hours and 21 minutes, it has the breadth, depth and scope/vision of the type of 1960's roadshow movies that, ironically, would have never deemed Malcolm an "appropriate," or even deserving subject for biographical treatment. Born to a minister father, Malcolm Little eventually rebelled from his strict religious upbringing and served jail time for burglary. It was in prison that the future Malcolm X was introduced to the Nation of Islam, becoming one of its most devout and dedicated followers. A later pilgrimage to Mecca helped Malcolm change his "whites are the devils" mantra, ultimately preaching that all races needed to coexist and work together. Superb supporting turns from Angela Bassett (Malcolm's wife, Betty), Al Freeman Jr. (Elijah Muhammad) and Delroy Lindo (West Indian Archie). The late film critic Roger Ebert once called Lee's films exercises in empathy. Besides "Do the Right Thing," I can't think of another Lee joint more worthy of that description than this masterpiece. The Criterion Blu-Ray has a cornucopia of extras, including a 2005 audio commentary with Lee, cinematographer Ernest Dickerson, editor Barry Alexander Brown and costume designer Ruth E. Carter; contemporaneous chats with Lee, Brown, Lindo and composer Terrence Blanchard; a making of featurette with, among others, Lee, Washington, Dickerson, Brown, Blanchard, Carter, Ossie Davis, Martin Scorsese and Ilyasah Shabazz (Malcolm X's daughter); co-screenwriter Arnold Perl's feature-length 1972 documentary, "Malcolm X;" deleted scenes introduced by Lee; an essay by journalist/ screenwriter Barry Michael Cooper; Lee and Washington excerpts from the 1992 book, "By Any Means Necessary: The Trials of Tribulations of the Making of 'Malcolm X;'" and Davis' stirring 1965 funeral eulogy for Malcolm X. (A PLUS.)
THE MENU--The sociopathic chef-owner (Ralph Fiennes) of a chi-chi restaurant located on a private island that charges $1,250 per person unleashes his inner Jigsaw on well-heeled patrons in director Mark Mylod's biliously amusing foodie/horror flick. Mylod, who cut his teeth on HBO's "Succession," definitely knows how to flambé the 1%, and watching the rich, entitled and pompous squirm is both exhilarating and weirdly cathartic. As the only diner brave enough to stand up to Chef's murderous impulses, Anya Taylor-Joy of "Queen's Gambit" fame is fantastic as the movie's de facto audience surrogate. Good support from, among others, Nicholas Hoult (Taylor-Joy's preening yuppie date), Janet McTeer (an imperious restaurant critic), and John Leguizamo (a deluded fading movie star anxious to impress his soon-to-be-ex agent). You'll probably want to eat before seeing the movie, however. (B PLUS.)
PLANE--Gerard Butler plays an airline pilot whose emergency landing on a war-torn Philippine island forces him to team up with an accused murderer (Mike Coulter from Marvel's "Luke Cage") being transported by the F.B.I. to rescue passengers from the rebel army. Director Jean-Francois Richet--best known for Vincent Cassel's "Mesrine" movies--does a decent job of building and sustaining tension despite the absurdity of the central premise. Butler is a little less overbearing than usual, and this actually ranks among his better recent movies. Whether it merits a multiplex outing is another matter, though. (C PLUS.)
THREE COLORS BY KRZYSZTOF KIESLOWSKI--Individually great and cumulatively one of the benchmarks of contemporary European cinema, the Criterion Collection's Blu Ray box set of late Polish visionary Krzysztof Kieslowski's "Thee Color Trilogy" is the first must-own home video release of 2023. "Blue" (starring Juliette Bioche) is the darkest, most haunting of the three; the ebullient "White" (with Julie Delpy) is the closest to a flat-out comedy; and "Red," featuring an incandescent lead performance by Kieslowski muse Irene ("The Double Life of Veronique") Jacob, ranks among the greatest French language films of the post-New Wave era. Each movie is accorded its own disc and contains a plethora of mouth-watering extras. There are three "cinema lessons" with Kieslowski; interviews with cowriter Krzysztof Piesiewicz, composer Zbigniew Preisner and actors Jacob, Delpy and Zbigniew Zamachowski; selected scene commentary with Binoche; video essays by critics Dennis Lim, Annette Insdorf and Tony Rayns; a 1995 documentary about Kieslowski; three Kieslowski short films ("The Tram," "Seven Women of Different Ages" and "Talking Heads") from 1966, 1978 and 1980 respectively; interview featurettes on Kieslowski's life and career with Binoche, Insdorf, Jacob, critic Geoff Andrew, director Agnieszka ("Europa, "Europa") Holland, cinematographer Slawomir Idziak, producer Martin Karmitz and editor Jacques Witta; behind the scenes featurettes on "White" and "Red; a short documentary on the Cannes Film Festival premiere of "Red;" essays by critics Nick James, Stuart Klawans, Georgina Evans and Colin MacCabe; excerpts from "Kirslowski on Kieslowski;" and interviews with cinematographers Idziak, Edward Klosinski and Piotr Sobocinski.
(A PLUS.)
THE VELVET UNDERGROUND--Unlike most music documentaries that unimaginatively mix-and-match talking heads interviews with archival performance footage, Todd ("I'm Not There," "Velvet Goldmine") Haynes' film about the experimental and wildly influential New York rock band is itself a kind of cinematic performance art. Taking its stylistic cues from the underground movies of the 1960's--the Velvet Underground began their career as a sort of house band for Andy Warhol's Factory--Haynes' doc has as much sensory overload as a V/A live show. (Haynes uses split screen more effectively than any director since vintage Brian DePalma.) One of the most amusing revelations is that it was Warhol who insisted Nordic chanteuse Nico become a member of the Underground; he likened her presence to "a blonde iceberg in the middle of the stage." The film is as much a retrospective, and deeply nostalgic, look at '60s NYC, as it is a memorial to Lou Reed, et al. The Criterion Collection Blu-Ray includes an audio commentary with Haynes and editors Adam Kurnitz and Alfonso Goncalves; outtakes of interviews with onscreen contributors Jonathan Richman, Mary Woronov and Jonas Mekas; Haynes in a 2021 conversation with surviving V/A bandmates John Cale and Maureen Tucker; complete versions of three of the avant garde films excerpted in the movie (two by Mekas); and rock critic Greil Marcus' steely-eyed essay, originally published in the New York Review of Books. (A.)
VIOLENT NIGHT--If Bruce Willis' "Die Hard" character John McClane had been Santa Claus instead of an NYPD cop, he would've been David ("Stranger Things") Harbour's Kris Kringle in director Tommy ("Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters") Winkola's wink-wink, nudge-nudge Yuletide actioner. While delivering presents at the Greenwich, Connecticut mansion of a wealthy industrialist--what? they couldn't afford to buy their own presents?--Santa encounters a posse of burglars hoping to steal $300-million. It evolves into a slightly more grown-up version of "Home Alone" with Mr. Claus booby-trapping the house to take down the bad guys. It's all very silly and absurdly hyper-violent (the title alone serves as a warning), but passably entertaining as long as you don't take any of it seriously. (C PLUS.)
THE WHALE--Brendan Fraser plays Charlie, a morbidly obese man slowly eating himself to death in Darren ("Requiem for a Dream," "Black Swan") Aronofsky's stripped-down adaptation of Samuel D. Hunter's acclaimed off-Broadway play. Ensconced in his dingy apartment where he teaches an expository writing seminar via Zoom, Charlie is determined to reconcile with his estranged 17-year-old daughter Ellie (Sadie Sink of "Stranger Things" renown) before scarfing down his last pizza. The only other characters to pass through Charlie's gateway to hell are private nurse Liz (Hong Chau) and a persistent New Life Church missionary (Ty Simpkins) who keeps ringing his doorbell. In a chamber piece like this, performances are all and Aronofsky's cast delivers in spades. Fraser--outfitted in prosthetics so convincing you truly believe he weighs 600 pounds--turns in the best work of his thirty-year career, and Sink, Chau, Simpkins and Samantha Morton (who burns a hole through the screen in her one scene as Charlie's embittered ex) are all first-rate. Despite the claustrophobia of its single setting, Aronofsky never allows the film to become oppressive or stagey. Dynamic cinematography and editing by Aronofsky regulars Matthew Libatique and Andrew Weisblum help make this feel like a real movie and not just canned theater. (A MINUS.)
WHITNEY HOUSTON: I WANNA DANCE WITH SOMEBODY--If you can overlook the fact that British actress Naomi Ackie looks absolutely nothing like the late recording superstar, director Kasi ("Harriet," "Eve's Bayou") Lemmons' cradle-to-the-grave Houston biopic is serviceable enough, albeit a tad overextended at two-and-a-half-hours. While Lemmons and screenwriter Anthony ("Bohemian Rhapsody") McCarten don't entirely whitewash Whitney's life--her cocaine addiction and lesbianism (courtesy of Nafessa Williams' Robyn Crawford) are both documented--it's not exactly sensationalistic either. My biggest complaint is that, despite the overly generous run time, it completely skips over Whitney and husband Bobby Brown's early-Aughts TV reality show. (They could have spent the entire movie dishing that particular trainwreck.) Nice supporting turns from Stanley Tucci (as music industry titan Clive Davis) Ashton Sanders (Brown) and Clarke Peters and Tamara Tunie (Whitney's parents) as well. (B MINUS.)
---Milan Paurich