Month: May 2016

If it weren’t for Rachel Weisz, The Lobster would be in the running for the most overrated film of this young year. An intriguing concept does not a film make.

Greek Director Yorgos Lanthimos (Dogtooth), in his English language debut, draws up a doozy of a premise. In a dystopian society that prohibits single people, The Lobster sets its sights on a convention-like gathering where singles come to either find their match within a specified number of days, or face a final fate of being transformed into none other than the animal of their choice. Talk about pressure dating.

David, (Colin Farrell/the only character with an actual name) as subdued as most of the proceedings here, looks rather dejected after his girlfriend dumped him. Distracted and shell shocked, he listens to a bunch of rules and regulations as he checks in. It might as well be an Est meeting for all the excited David seems. It’s fun trying to figure out what is going on. At first.

Little jokes like trying to match people up with similar shortcomings (John C. Reilly’s character lisps) point to amusing ironies and familiar psychologies. After awhile everyone starts to seem overly serious. David’s nothing but earnest as he declares wanting to be a lobster should he fail to find a partner.

And thus David becomes ready for Act 2. A counterculture group that strenuously eschews relationships serve as shooting targets for the mainstreamers. In hiding and donning some serious camouflage, they take refuge in a nearby forest. There Weisz dangerously catches David’s eye. A strange yet rather uncompelling relationship develops.

Weisz makes a valiant effort to humanize what increasingly becomes a preposterously arcane film environment. The plot’s tensions build for awhile then snap into a lackluster, cluttered homestretch. Just when something amazing or tragic or ironic needs to be happening, things slow to a crawl.

In Dogtooth, Lanthimos’ 2009 Cannes Certain de Regard winner, the premise was equally bizarre. Children sealed off in the extreme from the outside world by their parents’ obsession with social conditioning come to garner more and more interest as the outlandish state of their isolation increases. Conversely, in The Lobster, things go from droll weird to dull weirder, with barely a whimper of dramatic heft.

A Not Terribly Tasty Lobster Roll…2.5 stars (out of 5)

Tilda Swinton works well with Italian director Luca Guadagnino. After the engaging I Am Love (2010), she teams up with him again in the enigmatic A Bigger Splash. The good news is Swinton displays her usual dynamic acting skills. Playing rock star Marianne Land, who is essentially unable to speak as she recovers from throat surgery, Swinton’s mime talents here rival her that of her vampire ones in the immensely enjoyable Only Lovers Left Alive.

The not so good news is despite excellent acting and editing that produces some sterling scenes, the focus of A Bigger Splash is on a character Harry Hawkes (Ralph Fiennes), who, however crazed and charismatic he may be, essentially leaves our interest level in the other characters wanting. Matthias Schoenaerts does his usual quiet man routine as Marianne’s current lover, Paul. Dakota Johnson turns in a spiffy performance as Penelope, a mysterious young femme fatale who is probably Fiennes’ long-estranged daughter. They all, including Swinton, who is marvelous here, do their best to keep up with the insanely intense energy level of Hawkes, who, incidentally is Marianne’s former music producer and lover.

Gorgeous Sicilian scenery and colorful local characters, including corrupt police officers, a matronly ricotta chef, and an earnest if bewildered housekeeper spice things up, as do the occasional nods to celebrity worship. Yet it’s Fiennes’ show to make or break. The versatile actor has never been better.

Harry’s egoism knows no bounds; his charm, no limits. He’s never less than fully believable. Just when the film begins to teeter off into the swampy abstractions seemingly integral to art films of this sort, Fiennes brings it back home time and again. Until even he can’t save this film from drifting off. Similar to the recent Louder Than Bombs, a terrific cast can’t turn a mere good film into something more special. Its thriller and political aspects seem tacked on, a mere setup for the hilarious, ironical last scene.

Morose Mayhem at a Mediterranean Villa…3.5 stars (out of 5)

If you haven’t seen Jacques Audiard’s A Prophet (2010), do whatever it takes to catch up. Also, don’t miss Auduard’s latest, Dheepan, winner of the Palme d’Or at Cannes. Dheepan is the story of a “fake family” of refuges from war-torn Sri Lanka. Former Tamil Tiger Dheepan (Antonysaythan Jesuthasan, himself a former boy soldier), in order to escape the battle zone, assembles a pretend family while in the refugee camp. A woman, Yalini (Kalieaswara Srinivisan), searches the camp for orphaned children. She eventually finds nine-year-old Illayaal (Claudine Vinasithamby), a perfect fit for the dead family whose identity and passports the threesome will now assume.

The strangers manage to make it onto a boat to France. Dheepan, as swiftly as he swapped his warrior fatigues for civilian clothes in the camp, takes on the job of caretaker at a dive housing project on the outskirts of Paris, despite speaking virtually no French. Yalini cooks and cleans for Habib, a man with dementia, and Illayaal starts special needs classes. The film is by no means a smooth ride toward the crystallization of a pretend family into a real one. Audiard advances every tension and obstacle with craftsmanship loaded with plausible realism. Not least among the problems to be faced is the presence of a violent drug-dealing gang in the opposite housing block that contains Habib’s apartment.

Dheepan had better watch himself. His occasional bursts of anger suggest PTSD might be working in his psyche. Like the brilliant prisoner Malik in A Prophet, the quiet Dheepsn is a compelling figure. The sacrifices made by strikingly resilient displaced immigrants, couldn’t be better illustrated than it is here. Illayaal, who otherwise adopts to the new situation better than the two adults, sadly yearns for the unconditional
love that her two parental figures are unable to provide.

The film contains some harrowingly real crises, yet as memorable as they are they pale in comparison to the eloquent mark the three members of the family individually and collectively leave on the viewer’s consciousness. Audiard’s avoids sentimentality like he does easy answers. What we’re sure of is the sheer madness of being thrust into an alien environment with the added difficulty of having to playact a faux-familial situation.

Let’s Pretend We’re Married…..4.5 stars (out of 5)

In his last two directorial efforts (Kiss Kiss,Bang Bang; Iron Man 3) veteran screenwriter Shane Black enjoyed having Robert Downey Jr. as his lead. Lucky him! This time it’s Russell Crowe and Ryan Gosling. They don’t merely reinforce the material here–they propel a breathtakingly-paced yet lax script into the smart-and-funny category.

That is not to say this crime noir comedic homage to 1970s-era buddy flicks keeps its head out of cliches and silly plot complications. Black, who penned Lethal Weapon and The Long Kiss Goodnight, also isn’t above referencing himself. As my friend and trash movie aficionado Lou was quick to point out there’s a scene here literally lifted straight out of The Last Boyscout, the 1991 Bruce Willis film which Black also wrote. Yet what keeps Black on fairly stable ground is not just a fine feel for the absurd-tinged, vacuous aspects of 1970s culture but also sharp timing in his set pieces.

When loosey-goosey private eye Holland March (Gosling) juggles a loaded gun, a cigarette, and dangling trousers when confronted while siting at a bathroom stall, pure comedy results. Other scenes take full advantage of crude yet crisp henchman Jackson Healy (Crowe), who refreshingly turns out to be a surly practitioner of deadpan and other classic comic devices.

Now about that plot. Damsel in distress meets porn industry meets political corruption meets family betrayal meets mysterious murders meets our two clutzy heroes. It’s quickly established March and Healy will be reluctant comrades when the first thing Healy does upon meeting March is
break his arm. Then there’s a 13-year-old running around spouting very adult lines. She’s Holly March (Angourie Rice), Holland’s daughter, and her use here at first makes one uncomfortable but before long she’s a candidate for the best thing about this movie.

I can’t help myself in throwing in this spoiler but when Holly tosses what is perceived to be hot coffee on a gun-wielding villain, only to find out the brew is ice-cold, it’s another one of those scenes that keep this film engaging. Just don’t expect–well, Lethal Weapon and you’ll be fine here.

In the end The Nice Guys asks us to swallow a lot of hooey: ludicrous, nonsensical plot contrivances, a lackluster Kim Basinger performance (she subdues a marginally dull character into the realm of the insipid) and villains who don’t feel very villainous. Ride
along with Crowe and Gosling and
you’ll get through this largely unscathed and all the more amused. Black probably forgot more about putting on a good show in this genre than younger directors hope to ever know.

Russell and Ryan’s Raggedy Rip-roaring Schtick…3.5 (out of 5) stars

Step aside, Blanchett. Make room, Winslet. There’s a new Kate in town.

Actually, she’s not new at all. More like rejuvenated. Kate Beckinsale, who’s best work might have been her previous collaboration with director Whit Stillman (Last Days of Disco, 1998) reunites with Stillman in a spot-on, deliciously devilish Jane Austen adaptation. In Love and Friendship, Beckinsale portrays Lady Susan, a complex, cunning raconteur who charms and connives with high social ambitions while remarkably keeping them mostly hidden from view.

The film goads the viewer into thinking an intricate mess of a yarn lays ahead when it piles on characters in its first few minutes by the score. Displaying still shots and names and descriptions on the screen, it’s impossible to keep it all straight, especially with characters we haven’t even met yet. Not to worry. Stillman is having some fun with us, as he also does with visual tricks like flashing on the screen in script form the contents of letters as they are read aloud.

The liberties Stillman takes don’t end there. He also augments the Austen epistolary novella “Lady Susan” with expanded characters. In the book, Sir James Martin was merely an marginal figure. Here, he is elevated to co-star status after first being called a “bit of a rattle,” a British slang for fool. Martin (Tom Bennett) represents a suitor of Lady Susan’s withdrawn 16-year old daughter Frederica (Morfydd Clark). What does it matter he doesn’t know poetry and verse aren’t opposite things, or, egad, what “tiny green balls” (peas) are–he has plenty of money. His lack of breeding stands in stark contrast to the landowning relatives Lady Susan suddenly finds herself lodging with after the death of her husband.

As usual in these sorts of dramas, the men are various shades of pliable messes and the women far more wiley. Lady Susan seems to have a plan or two up her sleeve. It involves not only Sir James but the far more worldly and gentlemanly Reginald DeCourcy (Xavier Samuel). Her partner in crime is an American expatriate (Chloe Sevigny) who is married to a much older Brit who holds her in check with threats of carting her back to that loathsome America.

I don’t recall previous Austen adaptations being this much fun, which is a huge credit to Stillman. In Lady Susan he and Beckinsale have pulled off a heroine who, though essentially unlikable, is irresistible.

In her own way she is much the early feminist who was unfortunately stuck in a late 18th century time period where the only way to get ahead was to piss off a few snobby aristocrats, ignore their classism, and forge a financial security by hook or by crook.

Kate On Fire In Brazen, Bright Austen Adaptation…4.5 stars (out of 5)

The villainous hedge fund in Money Monster is an outfit lamely called IBIS Clear Capital (presumably the moniker ISIS was already taken). Unfortunately the rest of the film is seriously marred from equally obvious manipulations. On the occasions when the film’s three screenwriters don’t resort to cheating and short-cutting the material, this Jody Foster-directed effort actually entertains. Just don’t expect Dog Day Afternoon.

By now if you’ve watched any TV whatsoever in the last couple of months, you know this hostage crisis drama stars George Clooney as the Jim-Cramer-on-steroids TV financial guru Lee Gates. The trailer gives away a lot of the film, so you may also have guessed it’s about a disgruntled, gone broke investor who manages to sneak on the set of a live Gates broadcast and stick a gun in Clooney’a face and an explosives-filled vest over his “$1000 suit.”

The Big Short this film is not but Clooney manages by technique to put a little sociopolitical sheen over what is basically a second-rate thriller shot in real time. Jack O’Connell (check out the brilliant Starred Up) puts on a Queens accent and brings genuine menace to the character Kyle Budwell, who put down the entire $60,000 inheritance from his deceased mom on the IBIS stock that Gates said was “safer than a savings account.”

The director of Gates’ Money Monster (it’s also the name of his show) is Patty Fenn, played by a pretty good Julia Roberts. She talks to Gates via his earpiece as Gates negotiates Budwell’s complaints and demands while remaining on the air. If the frequent intercutting to scenes of crowds watching the crisis on television is annoying, it’s made even worse after the realization soon hits that Budwell’s insistence on remaining on the air could easily have been ignored by

Fenn: Budwell had no real means of knowing whether they were on the air or not.

Foster, who has worked with great directors throughout her career should know better than to allow some of the script stunts put forth here. The last film she directed was Beaver, the odd Mel Gibson vehicle where Gibson’s depressed character is strangely liberated by a pet beaver hand puppet. In Money Monster, Foster’s puppets this time around are the numerous cops and IBIS personnel who, as supporting characters around Gates and Fenn, come up monstrously short. While the main players do their best to keep up a good show, the film loses steam in its second half, eliciting as many groans as gasps.

Monster Manipulators … 3 stars (out of 5)

Kudos: Nineteen year-old British actor Tom Holland takes a pretty decent Marvel movie to a higher level of fun. With the help of a spot-on Tony Stark/Iron Man (Robert Downey Jr.), Holland busts out a vexatious yet wholesome new version of the decidedly non-Marvel Spider Man. He’s an oasis in the take-itself seriously Marvel desert.

Complaint: Was the uneven Luc Bresson film Lucy the closest we are going to get to a Scarlet Johansson Black Widow star-turn movie (even though of course Lucy wasn’t even Black Widow except in spirit, and, partially, in her powers) Underutilization continues to plague the Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow character in this, Scarlet Johansson’s fourth Marvel project.

Kudos: Continuing to be the coolest mainstream actor going, Downey has the lines here that bring to mind his stellar performances in the first Iron Man and first Avengers films. While he’s never bad, part of the problem with Avengers: Age of Ultron was Tony seemed to be going through the motions a little too much.

Complaint: It may be true Black Widow deserves her own movie on the heels of the projected 2017 release of a new Spiderman with Holland and a projected 2018 film featuring Black Panther (Chadwick Boseman), who is introduced here. Yet in its haste to bring us new characters and round up all the old ones except Hulk and Thor, this produces essentially an Avengers 3 instead of a new Captain America. Cap himself (Chris Evans) also gets shortchanged. In his own movie.

Kudos: The scene where the Stark forces and the Cap forces battle it out on the airport Tarmac is rather exciting action movie stuff, even if it did take another Spider Man-style interloper to juice things up further. Here it is the equally jovial Ant-Man (Paul Rudd) in a brief but effective appearance.

Complaint: Elizabeth Olsen will will forever be on my favorite performance list if for no other film than Martha Marcy May Marlene. It’s not Olsen’s fault that her Scarlet Witch character is mostly a befuddling mess. Either she has supernatural powers that usurp the rest of the collected crew or she doesn’t: you can’t have it both ways.

Kudos: The irrepressible William Hurt, often a master of overacting, actually contributes the proper air of bureaucratic stiffness required of his character Secretary of State Thaddeus Ross. When Hurt blurts warnings about the requisite government oversight needed to overrun The Avengers’ antics, it not only sets up the looming tension between the libertarian Cap and the guilt-ridden Stark, but his words and mannerisms also come off like what a character with a bag-of-wind name like Thaddeus would actually sound like.

Complaint: Leaving aside Hurt, the rest of the ancillary characters leave a lot to be desired. Baron Zemo (Daniel Bruhl) is a very vanilla villain, Sharon Carter (Emily VanCamp) provides Cap with his first on-screen smooch and little else; and, as much as I admire them both, Marisa Tomei (as Spider Man’s mom) and John Slattery (as Stark’s dad) also add only slightly more than their prestigious names to the proceedings.

Kudos: What better bad guy to hold our attention than a charismatic, actually non-villain superhero fighting against another superhero like himself?

Complaint: Memo to The Marvel Movie Gods: Captain America: Civil War mostly gets it right, but now that you’ve beaten this horse to death, can you skip the superhero-vs.-superhero next time and give us real, honest-to-God villains again?

Pretty Good Marvel Effort Advances The Superhero-Versus-Superhero Theme That’s Been Going Around Lately (Like Zika)….4 stars (out of 5)