Dear Diary

The Adderall Diaries

by Hope Madden

James Franco is nothing if not prolific. The Adderall Diaries was his 8th completed feature slated for release in 2015. He is a frenzy of artistic ambition and he deserves credit for embracing independent filmmaking as well as bigger budget stuff, doling out comedies and dramas in between arty TV bits. But maybe if he slowed down a little, some of the material would be better.

In Adderall Diaries, Franco plays Stephen Elliott, the real-life writer who penned the nonfiction text on which the film is based. As Franco depicts him, Elliott is a self-destructive man-child wallowing in self-pity.

What caused his sour mood? An adolescence of abuse at the hands of a father he pretends is dead (in print and in public, no less). When Dad (Ed Harris) shows up in the flesh at a book reading, Elliott’s cushy world falls to pieces. Combine that with writer’s block and a misdirected interest in a high-profile murder trial, and what can Elliott do but snort, smoke, shoot, and pop every substance he comes into contact with?

There is something interesting buried here about how we use our own memories to justify our behavior, or about how writers are inherently liars, or a bit of both – hard to say because it’s never fleshed out or clearly articulated. But boy, the old ‘downward spiral of the artistic genius’ thing – that is hard to miss.

Though Harris turns in a characteristically strong performances, all other supporting turns are perfunctory at best, which leaves us with little but Franco’s whining protagonist to cling to.

Writer/director Pamela Romanowsky flails about with indie director clichés, creating an overly-filtered world of seediness and confused flashbacks, while her prose cannot deliver the introspection required to make an audience invest in what happens to Elliott.

Subplots go nowhere – the murder trial, in particular, feels as if it should mean something imperative but seems needless and tacked on. Relationships, the writer’s craft, self-examination and anything else the film attempts to tackle are too muddled to stand out. Even Franco’s damaged writer seeking redemption bit is so tired, and the character so unlikeable, that it’s just hard to care about the film’s outcome.

Verdict-2-0-Stars

Are You OK, Annie?

Criminal

by Rachel Willis

Director Ariel Vroman has crafted an interesting character study within the bones of an action movie with Criminal.

When CIA agent Bill Pope (Ryan Reynolds) is killed in the line of duty, his boss, Quaker Wells (Gary Oldman), desperate to obtain the information Pope was bringing to him, enlists the help of Dr. Franks (Tommy Lee Jones) to perform a radical memory transfer from Pope to Jericho Stewart (Kevin Costner). Dr. Franks is unsure if the procedure will work, as he’s only performed is successfully on small mammals, but Wells pushes him to perform the surgery.

Predictably, the operation is successful. However, Jericho Wells is unpredictable. He is a man without a conscience, and his predilection for destruction jeopardizes Wells’s objective.

Costner is marvelous as Jericho, first playing the character with cold indifference, but shaping him to the memories and feelings of Pope as they overwhelm him. Attempting to use Pope’s knowledge for his own gain, he finds himself drawn to Pope’s life, particularly Pope’s wife and daughter.

As the deceased’s wife, Jill Pope, Gal Gadot (the new Wonder Woman) gives a compelling performance as a woman who is suddenly confronted with a very dangerous man who happens to know things about her life that only her husband would know. The characters’ initial interaction is tense, and it’s unclear how Jericho will act toward Jill and her daughter.

Unfortunately, the situation plays out the way one would expect, as Jericho is influenced more and more by Pope’s thoughts and feelings. What could provide for an unexpected, and possibly deadly, confrontation is instead relegated to a predictable attack of conscience before anything truly sinister occurs.

Though Costner ably carries the weight of the film, many of the supporting characters feel flat, with little to do other than attempt to steer Jericho in the direction they want. Gary Oldman is especially mundane in his role as a CIA director who seems inept and impulsive.

Only Gadot, and Michael Pitt (The Dreamers, Funny Games) as Jan Stroop, imbue their characters with emotions and wants that have nothing to do with Jericho. Pitt is especially effective, radiating various emotions and providing a nice contrast to Jericho.

Despite the weakness of some of the characters, the film is an intriguing study of Jericho. There are a number of tense, and occasionally funny, moments as we watch him navigate his new memories and feelings.

On the whole, Criminal is an enjoyable, if predictable, film.

Verdict-3-5-Stars

Animal Planet

The Jungle Book

by George Wolf

Much like the “man-cub” Mowgli prancing gracefully on a thin tree branch, director Jon Favreau’s new live action version of Disney’s The Jungle Book finds an artful balance between modern wizardry and beloved tradition.

The film looks utterly amazing, and feels nearly as special.

Impossibly realistic animals and deeply nuanced landscaping completely immerse you in the jungle environment where the young Mowgli (a wonderfully natural Neel Sethi), after being rescued as an infant by pragmatic panther Bagheera (voiced by Ben Kingsley), lives happily among the wolf pack of Akela (Giancarlo Esposito) and Raksha (Lupita Nyong’o).

But after threats on the man-cub’s life by the fearsome tiger Shere Khan (Idris Elba), Bagheera decides it is time to lead the boy back to the “man village” for good.

Based on the stories of Rudyard Kipling, Disney’s 1967 animated feature showcased impeccable voice casting and memorable songs to carve its way into the hearts of countless children (myself included). Clearly, Favreau is also one of the faithful, as he gives the reboot a loving treatment with sincere, effective tweaks more in line with Kipling’s vision, and just the right amount of homage to the original film.

And this group of voices ain’t too shabby, either.

Kingsley is perfectly elegant, Elba commanding and scary, while Scarlett Johansson gives Kaa the snake a hypnotic makeover oozing with seduction. Then, in the heart of the batting order, along comes Bill Murray to fill Baloo the bear full of sarcastic gold and Christopher Walken to re-imagine King Louie as an immense orangutanian Godfather.

All the elements blend seamlessly, never giving the impression that the CGI is just for flash or the cast merely here for star power. The characters are rich, the story engrossing and the suspense heartfelt. Credit Favreau for having impressive fun with all these fancy toys, while not forgetting where the magic of this tale truly lives.

Verdict-4-0-Stars

 

RSVP Required

The Invitation

by Hope Madden

Dinner parties are the worst.

This is especially true when said party is thrown by your ex and her new man in the house that used to be yours. So, why go?

Curiosity – which is what will or will not keep you invested in director Karyn Kusama’s new film The Invitation.

Will (Logan Marshall-Green) and his new girlfriend Kira (Emayatzy Corinealdi) tough it out. They drive out to the LA hills to join Will’s ex Eden (Tammy Blanchard) and all the friends Will has forgotten about since his son accidentally died in this very house a couple years back.

The party marks Eden’s return to the fold and an introduction to the new man in her life, David (Michiel Huisman), another grief survivor who, like Eden, owes his very sanity to the life-changing vision of Dr. Joseph.

Oh, God. Have they unwittingly submitted themselves to the one thing worse than a time-share opportunity gathering – a religious conversion attempt?

Kusama’s slow build mines societal tensions well. Besides the obvious ex-lover friction and the fear of cult propaganda, many in this once tight circle of friends have avoided the grief-stricken parents since the accident. It’s all very uncomfortable, though the film slowly turns the discomfort toward paranoia as Will begins to wonder where missing buddy Choi (Karl Yune) may be, why Eden has a bottle of barbiturates in her bedroom, and why David keeps all the partygoers locked inside.

Is something amiss, or is Will just dealing with those damaging issues of grief that Eden and David were able to overcome thanks to Dr. Joseph?

As The Invitation slowly evolves from tense drama to thriller to horror, Kusama is always throwing uncomfortable moments and unsettling clues at you. Were it not for the often tediously stilted dialog penned by Phil Hay and Matt Manfredi – whose track record includes the Ride Along series, if that tells you anything – The Invitation would have a consistently nightmarish, hypnotic quality that keeps you uncomfortably captive.

You know, just like that last dinner party you went to.

How ‘Bout You?

Everybody Wants Some!!

by Hope Madden

Of all filmmakers in the world, few – if any – can do slice-of-life as well as Richard Linklater. Never weighed down by plot structure or the rigid expectations of modern cinema, Linklater’s the master of fluid, easygoing, day-in-the-life filmmaking. His latest exercise in the craft, Everybody Wants Some, is a charmer.

You’re invited to a 3-day bender in the late summer of 1980 – the long weekend before the first day of classes – and Linklater’s meandering camera makes you feel like you’re just wandering through the party.

Everybody Wants Some is, without question, too forgiving. A South Texas university baseball team settles into the new year by scoping out the female action on and off campus. They’re adaptive – disco one night, urban cowboys the next, punk rockers on a random Sunday. Linklater not only nails 1980, but pinpoints the almost invisible moments of import in a person’s life.

This is a consequence-free zone that smells a bit of nostalgia and self-congratulations. And yet, thanks to a slew of utterly charming performances, the film still works exceptionally well.

Linklater has assembled an outstanding ensemble – not a false note in the lot, from the quiet everyman Jake (Blake Jenner) to the hypercompetitive McReynolds (Tyler Hoechlin) to the philosophical ladies’ man Finnegan (Glen Powell) to the ranting wacko Jay (Juston Street) – and basically the entire team. The first thing Linklater does is establish each ballplayer’s type, just to quietly destroy your preconceived notions of character.

Billed as the “spiritual sequel” to 1993’s coming of age classic Dazed and Confused, Everybody Wants Some is even more laid back, decidedly more masculine, and quite a bit more existential. Linklater’s more existential films tend toward the bittersweet – some more bitter, this one more sweet.

Like Dazed, the new film litters its fluid storyline with hijinks and casually perceptive dialog.

“It’s all so damn tribal.”

“Embrace your inner strange.”

It’s a film about competition and identity, the battle between self-discovery and authenticity, but with Linklater’s light, affectionate touch, nothing ever feels heavy. The writing is as good as anything Linklater has produced, positively glowing with “unsolicited wisdom and fuckwithery.” And all of it leads to an absolutely perfect ending.

Verdict-4-0-Stars





Fright Club: WTF?! Horror

Horror films have the power to freak you out, to terrify you, to disturb and unsettle you. And often enough, along with inspiring some combination of the aforementioned emotions, certain horror films just beg the question WTF?! Like, almost anything Takashi Miike has ever directed. Or Antichrist – I’m sorry, did that fox just speak? Whether the bizarre puppetry of Hausu or the skull sex of Headless, the orifice’s point of view camera angles in Enter the Void or the queasying sibling relationship in Pin, horror movies can hit that unsettling nerve. So let’s just embrace it today, shall we? Today we count down the five (or six!) best in WTF?! horror.

6. The Woman (2011)

There’s something not quite right about Chris Cleese (an unsettlingly cherubic Sean Bridgers), and his family’s uber-wholesomeness is clearly suspect. This becomes evident once Chris hunts down a feral woman (an awesome Pollyanna McIntosh), chains her, and invites the family to help him “civilize” her.

The film rethinks family – well, patriarchy, anyway. Notorious horror novelist and co-scriptor Jack Ketchum may say things you don’t want to hear, but he says them well. And director Lucky McKee – in his most surefooted film to date – has no qualms about showing you things you don’t want to see. Like most of Ketchum’s work, The Woman is lurid and more than a bit disturbing. Indeed, the advanced screener I watched came in a vomit bag.

Aside from an epically awful performance by Carlee Baker as the nosey teacher, the performances are more than just good for the genre, they’re disturbingly solid. McIntosh never veers from being intimidating, terrifying even when she’s chained. Bridgers has a weird way of taking a Will Ferrell character and imbibing him with the darkest hidden nature. Even young Zach Rand, as the sadist-in-training teen Brian, nails the role perfectly.

Nothing happens in this film by accident – not even the innocent seeming baking of cookies – nor does it ever happen solely to titillate. It’s a dark and disturbing adventure that finds something unsavory in our primal nature and even worse in our quest to civilize. Don’t even ask about what it finds in the dog pen.

5. Bad Boy Bubby (1993)

The hell?! Why? What?! Good God.

Nicholas Hope is astonishing as the titular Bubby, a 30-year-old manchild who’s never, ever left the room he keeps with his mum.

Remember the Oscar-winning indie film Room? Remember how tragedy is somehow skirted because of the courageous love of a mother for her son? Well, this was not Bubby’s mum. Bad things are happening in that room, and once Bubby is finally free to explore the world, his adventure is equal parts deranged and soul-crushing. Hope is so frustratingly empathetic in the lead that no matter what he does, you root for him. You root for friends who will love him, for someone who will care for him, but it’s the resigned cheerfulness with which he faces any kind of abuse that really just kills you.

This taboo-shattering film is so wrong in so many ways, and yet it’s also lovely, optimistic, sweet, and funny. And just so, so fucked up.

4. Baskin (2015)

Welcome to hell! Turkish filmmaker Can Evrenol invites you to follow a 5-man police squad into the netherworld, where eye patches are all the rage, pregnancy lasts well under the traditional 40 weeks, and you don’t want to displease Daddy.

The serpentine sequencing of events evokes a dream logic that gives the film an inescapable atmosphere of dread, creepily underscored by its urgent synth score. Evrenol’s imagery is morbidly amazing. Much of it only glimpsed, most of it left unarticulated, but all of it becomes that much more disturbing for its lack of clarity.
The further along the squad gets, the more often you’ll look in horror at something off in a corner, that sneaking WTF? query developing along with your upset stomach.

The central figures in this nightmare are one eye-patch wearing helper who enjoys tossing his or her hair over one shoulder, and the breathtaking father figure played by Mehmet Cerrahoglu. There is no one quite like him.

Cerrahoglu’s remarkable presence authenticates the hellscape. Evrenol’s imaginative set design and wise lighting choices envelope Cerrahoglu, his writhing followers, and his victims in a bloody horror like little else in cinema.

3. Calvaire (The Ordeal) (2004)

A paranoid fantasy about the link between progress and emasculation, The Ordeal sees a timid singer stuck in the wilds of Belgium after his van breaks down.

Writer/director Fabrice Du Welz’s script scares up the darkest imaginable humor. If David Lynch had directed Deliverance in French, the concoction might have resembled The Ordeal. As sweet, shy singer Marc (a pitch perfect Laurent Lucas) awaits aid, he begins to recognize the hell he’s stumbled into. Unfortunately for Marc, salvation’s even worse.

The whole film boasts an uneasy, “What next?” quality. It also provides a European image of a terror that’s plagued American filmmakers for generations: the more we embrace progress, the further we get from that primal hunter/gatherer who knew how to survive.

Du Welz animates more ably than most our collective revulsion over the idea that we’ve evolved into something incapable of unaided survival; the weaker species, so to speak. Certainly John Boorman’s Deliverance (the Uncle Daddy of all backwoods survival pics) understood the fear of emasculation that fuels this particular dread, but Du Welz picks that scab more effectively than any filmmaker since.

His film is a profoundly uncomfortable, deeply disturbing, unsettlingly humorous freakshow that must be seen to be believed.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hn3oba5HmH8

2. Possession (1981)

Speaking of sex and monsters – wait, were we? – have you seen Possession? WTF is going on there?

Andrzej Zulawski – writer/director/Czech – created this wild ride with doppelgangers, private investigators, ominous government agencies, and curious sexual appetites. It’s more precisely fantasy than horror, but it feels like David Cronenberg meets David Lynch, which is a pairing we can get behind.

Sam Neill plays Mark. Mark has just left his job – a mysterious position with some kind of lab. He’s being offered a lot of money to stay, but he needs to go home. We don’t know why.

Back at home, he greets his genuinely adorable son Bob (Michael Hogben). Bob – the names is so normal, and yet feels so unusual for a small child. Mark’s wife Anna (Isabelle Adjani) is also at home with Bob. There’s nothing normal about Anna.

Mark and Anna’s relationship boasts an intentional artificiality – a queasying sexuality – that makes it hard to root for either of them as their marriage deteriorates. Anna, it seems, is in love with someone else. Is it the sexually open – really, really open – Heinrich? Is it a bloody, mollusk-like monster? Is Mark boning Anna’s mean friend with a cast on her leg? Does Bob’s kindergarten teacher bear an unreasonable resemblance to Anna? Is anyone caring properly for Bob?

These questions and more go basically unanswered in a deviant, summary-defying, fantastical bit of filmmaking that mocks the idiocy, even insanity of obsession and boasts a handful of weirdly excellent performances. And sex with a bloody mollusk monster.

1. Gozu (2003)

If you are looking for genuine lunacy in film, your search should begin and quite possibly end with filmmaker Takashi Miike. His shit is nuts. Truth be told, there are scads of Miike films that could have populated this list because even his tamest, most logical, no-puppetry films are wild rides. So when he starts coloring way outside the lines, expect to be surprised.

This one starts off as a yakuza film – one guy on a mob-style assignment – then descends into absolute madness.

Minami (Yuta Sone) has been ordered to assassinate his feeble-minded yakuza boss Ozaki (Sho Aikawa), but he’s conflicted. Then he loses him and wanders, in search, into – you might say it was the Twilight Zone, except this place is considerably weirder. There’s a minotaur. An electrified anal soup ladle death scene. Some seriously, seriously weird shit.

Like a walk through somebody’s subconscious, the film is awash in repressed sexual desires of the very most insane and unspeakable. There’s a comical element that’s almost equally unsettling. Gozu is not as violent as many Miike films – it’s violent, don’t be mistaken, but the horror here is more in unseemly behavior and wildly inappropriate imagery. It’s just stuff you can’t unsee.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=penZT2N2xDw





Walking Disaster

Demolition

by Hope Madden

No way this film should work.

Jean-Marc Vallee’s symbolism quirkfest Demolition is as burdened by identity crises and analogy as perhaps any film ever made. Populated by the confused but authentic in one corner, one-dimensional frauds in another, and one guy trying to go from one extreme to the other, it offers nary a single believable character as it tries to deconstruct its hero and build a better man. And yet, somehow, Vallee and his savvy cast make it damn near fly.

Jake Gyllenhaal is Davis, a recently widowed Wall Street protégé going through a bit of life transition. He doesn’t feel anything concerning his wife’s death, which makes him realize that he isn’t sure he has felt anything at all in some years.

This realization corresponds with a frustrating experience with an ER vending machine, and so he begins a series of missives to the sole customer service rep for the vending company, Karen Moreno (Naomi Watts). These are not angry letters, but in an attempt to be thorough, Davis gives the as-of-yet anonymous vending recipient a very, very full picture of his life.

A weird but sweetly platonic relationship blossoms between the directionless Davis and the stagnant Karen, but it’s Davis’s relationship with her on-edge teen son Chris (Judah Lewis, in an impressive turn) that leads to the film’s most unpredictable and interesting moments.

Self-discovery, that seems to be the name of the game here as Davis begins dismantling everything: a leaky fridge, a squeaky bathroom stall door, appliances, lighting figures, his house. He says in one letter that everything has become a metaphor, but he isn’t honestly sure what each metaphor might be. Is he the uprooted tree by the highway? The storm that felled the tree? The cold front that collided with another front to create the storm? Hell if he knows.

It’s an interesting line in a film that throws symbols at the screen with wild abandon, and yet can’t seem to decide what kind of film it is. More to the point, writer Brian Sype (The Choice) doesn’t seem to know what motivates Davis or what he may be underneath it all. And while Gyllenhaal offers another solid performance surrounded by oddly interesting work from a highly talented cast, it’s hard to see a point to all this.

Third act revelations and resolutions only make things worse, ringing as nothing if not false and needless. And yet, Vallee’s sleight of hand, Sype’s surprises, and the cast’s cagey performances make this one an off kilter experience that somehow works.

Verdict-3-0-Stars

 





Eyes Without a Face

Hardcore Henry

by George Wolf

We wake up with Hardcore Henry underwater in a Russian laboratory. A hot woman in a lab coat gets us up to speed as she attaches our new arm and leg. She tells us she’s our doctor, and our wife, and though our memory will come back in time, right now we have to run from the endless parade of people who want us dead.

And so we are off on a journey of mayhem and discovery, as writer/director Ilya Naishuller crafts a technically savvy “first person” action fest where every shot is framed through Henry’s eyes.

The lab is raided by a gang of baddies, with Henry and wife Estelle (Haley Bennett) making their escape as she pleads with him to understand what he’s capable of and to fight back accordingly. He does, with continually timely assistance from the mysterious Jimmy (Sharlto Copley), whose answers only lead to more questions about Henry’s identity, bio-engineering and the evil plans of warlord Akan (Danila Kozlovsky).

The action is often relentless, sometimes brutally violent, and eventually tiresome. The film essentially becomes a first person shooter game set to autopilot, much more successful as a technical achievement than resonant narrative.

Naishuller deserves ample credit for his vision, and for getting it on film with impressive precision.  There’s hardly a dent in the integrity of his first person device, with set pieces that run from dazzling (a shootout set to Queen’s “Don’t Stop Me Now” chief among them), to downright weird (Copley’s song and dance routine), and the entire production well-earning its advisory for viewers prone to motion sickness.

For all the technical merits, seeing through Henry’s eyes doesn’t connect us to the character or pull us any deeper into the action. Ironically, the effect is just the opposite, and Hardcore Henry becomes as fun and captivating as watching someone else play a video game.

Verdict-2-5-Stars

 





Like a Boss

The Boss

by Rachel Willis

The Boss is a comedic story of one woman’s fall from the top and her struggle to regain her position in the world.

Melissa McCarthy is Michelle Darnell, a high powered executive who writes a brand of self-help books. Her fall comes at the hands of former lover and business rival, Ronald (Peter Dinklage).

Kristen Bell is Michelle’s long suffering assistant, Claire, who is forced to find a new employer when Michelle is incarcerated for insider trading. The early setup foretells the redemption of Michelle, though the ways in which it happens are unpredictable and provide the bulk of the movie’s many jokes.

As a vehicle for Melissa McCarthy, The Boss has a number of laughs. Sharp wit, foul language, and bodily humor combine to offer an appealing repertoire of McCarthy’s talents. However, the movie itself falls flat. The supporting cast is underutilized. Kristen Bell, herself a witty and capable actress, is lackluster against McCarthy. The chemistry is non-existent, and the two characters never seem to foster a believable relationship.

The screenplay doesn’t know what to do with anyone other than McCarthy. Though a decent portion of the film revolves around Bell’s character, her scenes independent of McCarthy are mildly tedious.

Peter Dinklage, another actor with an incredible range of talent, has a woefully small amount of screen time, and though he plays Michelle’s former lover who both hates and still wants her, he has no sexual chemistry or tension with McCarthy. The interaction between the characters frequently feels forced.

The only actor who plays well of off McCarthy’s humor is Cedric Yarbrough, the “yes man” Tito, who appears briefly in the beginning of the film, but sadly, doesn’t return after Michelle’s release from prison.

On the whole, the film is disjointed. What could be a cohesive story of Michelle’s fall and attempted rise back to the top is unfortunately punctuated with scenes that don’t really fit the narrative: a comic book style slow motion fight scene between girls from two warring Girl Scout-like troops, a scene where Michelle has a bad reaction to puffer fish, and others.

Despite the movie’s flaws, it’s not without appeal. Ella Anderson who plays Claire’s daughter, Rachel, is a delightful foil to Michelle’s brash and sarcastic nature. Her emotions based on Michelle’s actions come across as genuine. Her joys and pains are felt by the audience. McCarthy’s humor and flair carries the film in places where in another’s hands it might suffer.

It’s a shame so many of the other characters are without appeal, as The Boss could have been a much stronger comedy.

Verdict-2-5-Stars

NOTE: NSFW trailer (but funny!)





Everlovin’ Light

Midnight Special

by Hope Madden

Get to know Jeff Nichols. The Arkansas native is batting 1000, writing and directing among the most beautiful and compelling American films being made. His latest, Midnight Special, is no different. But then again, it is very, very different.

You should know as little as possible going into this film because Nichols is the master of slow reveal, pulling you into a situation and exploiting your preconceived notions until you are wonderfully bewildered by the path the story takes.

Suffice it to say, Nichols mainstay Michael Shannon, as well as Joel Edgerton, are armed men in a seedy motel. They have a child in tow (Jaeden Lieberher – wonderful). Local news casts a dark image of the trio, but there’s also a Waco-esque religious community looking for the boy, not to mention the FBI. So, what the hell is going on?

Nichols knows, and he invites your curiosity as he upends expectations. The film toys with the clash between logic and the supernatural, not unlike the themes of Nichols’s masterpiece Take Shelter (also starring a magnificent Shannon). While moments of Midnight Special will feel more reminiscent of memorable films in the SciFi vein, what this filmmaker does with his subject is beautifully novel.

The film, like all of Nichols’s work, is deeply rooted in traditions and atmosphere specific to the American South, and the filmmaker boasts a deep and easy skill as a storyteller. He’s also truly gifted with casting.

Lieberher, who showed amazing natural talent in 2014’s St. Vincent, again offers a beautifully restrained central figure. Edgerton and Kirsten Dunst are likewise wonderful, both turning in nuanced performances that reflect Nichols’s uncanny way of dealing with the extraordinary in the most naturalistic way.

But Michael Shannon, a remarkable talent no matter what film he graces, anchors the film with a heartbreaking, award-worthy performance.

Midnight Special is just another gem of a film that allows Nichols and his extraordinary cast to find exceptional moments in both the outlandish and the terribly mundane, and that’s probably the skill that sets this filmmaker above nearly anyone else working today. He sees beyond expectations and asks you to do it, too.

You should.

Verdict-4-5-Stars