All posts by maddwolf

Happy Holidays, Ya Filthy Animals

Zootopia 2

by Hope Madden

It’s been a decade since Disney rewrote their longstanding history of rocking no boats when the delightfully fearless Zootopia asked its audience to confront our own biases and recognize the way we are programmed to fear the weak to benefit the powerful.

Animators Jared Bush and Byron Howard maybe looked around and noticed certain themes trending again. Zootopia 2, which both direct and Bush writes solo this time, benefits from the same fantastic casting, same visual splendor, same wit as their 2016 Oscar winner. But Bush’s writing burns a little more brightly with anger this time, however charmingly packaged.

Bunny cop Judy Hopps (Ginnifer Goodwin) and her fox partner, Nick Wilde (Jason Batemen), will not content themselves to sitting on the sidelines as rookies when there are real crimes to investigate. Judy believes the weird material she found at the scene of a smuggling crime is actually the shed skin of a snake—and reptiles are banned from Zootopia! They’re weird and dangerous! Just ask the powerful land baron heirs of generational wealth, the Lynxleys!

Do you know how to immediately convince children and adults alike that Gary the heat-sensitive pit viper is, indeed, no threat all? Besides naming him Gary? Cast Ke Huy Quan, whose performance, even when it’s only vocal, sings of harmlessness.

Is Gary being framed? Can conspiracy-seeking podcasting beaver Nibbles Maplestick (Fortune Feimster, hilarious) help in the investigation? Can Judy and Nick’s friendship survive another big case? Is any of this worth dying for?

Boy, that last one’s a big question for a kid’s movie, but Zootopia 2 is committed to asking big questions. It’s equally committed to hilarious sight gags (Hungry Hungry Hippo and Ratatoullie were battling for my favorite, but then they brought out the hedge maze). So it’s a good balance.

Bush’s plot is a little complicated for the youngest viewers, and the film takes a while to really find its groove. But it’s also shockingly relevant and sometimes powerfully emotional. Plus, Patrick Warburton as a vainglorious blond show horse movie star turned mayor is a hoot.

It’s great to see a family film that reminds kids (and adults) that bullies are often the people with the most money, and that the bully is always the problem. Zootopia 2 may not be the utter revelation of the original, but it is an excellent sequel and a tale worth telling.

Bully Pulpit

Wake Up Dead Man: A Knives Out Mystery

by George Wolf

We may be early in awards season, but the slam dunk winner for Best Use of a Church Organ in an Ensemble Whodunnit has arrived.

Wake Up Dead Man: A Knives Out Mystery brings that LOL moment and many other deadly delights, as writer/director Rian Johnson again shows a wonderful grasp on giving the Agatha Christie blueprint his own wickedly fun stamp.

There’s been a murder at a small Catholic church in upstate New York. Just as young priest Jud Duplenticy (Josh O’Connor) is learning his way around Monsignor Jefferson Wick’s (Josh Brolin) iron-fisted control of his flock at Our Lady of Perpetual Fortitude, Wicks turns up with a literal knife in his back.

Jud has some violence in his checkered past – and he found the body – but the pews are filled with suspects. There’s lawyer Vera (Kerry Washington), her adopted son Cy (Daryl McCormack), writer Lee (Andrew Scott), Dr. Nat (Jeremy Renner), newcomer Simone (Cailee Spaeny), groundskeeper Samson (Thomas Haden Church) or maybe even devoted church secretary Martha (Glenn Close).

That much sleuthing is a bit overwhelming for Chief Scott (Mila Kunis) and her officers, so WGD (World’s Great Detective) Benoit Blanc (Daniel Craig) is on the case, albeit reluctantly.

In fact, Blanc is loath to even set foot inside a church, a feeling detailed in his breathtaking introductory speech, the opening salvo in Johnson’s assault on demagoguery and the quest for power via radicalization.

That assault is far from subtle, but man it’s a treat to get caught up in.

Brolin continues his stellar year with a masterclass of egotistic bullying, and O’Connor is the perfect counterpoint. Fresh-faced and mop-haired, Father Jud is committed to being a force for good in the world, and to honoring Christ’s mission to heal the world. That mission seems lost amid Wick and his parishioners, and each member of this sublime ensemble understands Johnson’s assignment to skewer such commonplace self-righteous hypocrisy.

Craig is letter-perfect once again, dialing back the giddy flamboyance that drove 2022’s Glass Onion with darker shades in line with the film’s tone. Blanc is troubled and stumped about more than just the facts of the case, and Craig continues to craft him as an endlessly fascinating figure.

Wake Up Dead Man is less of an outright comedy than the last mystery, though some solid laughs do land (like the church organ gag). And just like last time, it will not be hard to guess who Johnson has his knives out for. What you won’t guess is who done it, or how they done it.

But it sure is a kick to try.

A Murder of Crows

The Thing with Feathers

by Hope Madden

Novelist Max Porter puts readers into headspaces we might just as well not want to visit, but he creates a territory that’s slyly hopeful. In Shy, beautifully adapted as Steve for Netflix by Tim Mielants with Cillian Murphy, Porter explores form to help us think as a troubled boy.

Porter’s first novel, 2015’s Grief Is a Thing with Feathers, likewise experiments to mimic the overwhelming despair of grief as it visits a man (Benedict Cumberbatch) and his two young sons (Richard and Henry Boxall) in the form of a huge, unsympathetic crow (voice by David Thewlis with Eric Lampaert inside the suit).

That’s right, there is a suit. It’s designed with menacing beauty by Nicola Hicks, and the physical presence, along with the echoing caw and inky shadows in the art design, heighten the chaotic despair haunting writer/director Dylan Southern’s film.

Dad is unable to get past his wife’s sudden death. In fact, he doesn’t want to “come to terms” with anything, can’t even imagine what the terms in this situation could be. He wants her back, and in the face of that impossibility, he just wants to feel the absence as keenly and entirely as possible. Which is wildly irresponsible and selfish for a dad.

So, Crow—terrifying, comforting, confrontational, riotous—settles in with the family to make things worse. Or better. Depends who you ask.

The always reliable Cumberbatch digs deep for this one, offering an unadorned performance that aches with authenticity. A film so darkly fanciful needed this level of unvarnished vulnerability at its core, and what Cumberbatch delivers is fearless and beautiful.

Both boys are likewise beautiful, and Southerland’s dreamy direction waltzes easily in perspective from child to man to crow without losing the melancholy music the film develops.

The plot lacks structure, though, and Cumberbatch’s performance is not anchor enough. In place of beats and form, Southerland inserts poetic analogy, some of which border on cliché.

It’s a funny balance, not dark enough to be folk horror, not story-driven enough to be a satisfying drama. But The Thing with Feathers boasts a darkly beautiful imagination and enough transfixing performances to make it worth a look.

Time to Be Funny

Time Travel Is Dangerous

by Brandon Thomas

Mockumentaries may not have enjoyed the same rise in popularity as found footage did – at least in the feature film world – but this subgenre still holds a special place in the hearts of many filmgoers. Comedy is where the mockumentary especially took hold. Films like Borat, This is Spinal Tap, What We Do in the Shadows, and the groundbreaking oeuvre of Christopher Guest not only rank as some of the best mockumentaries ever made, they are also seen as some of the best comedies ever made. While Time Travel is Dangerous doesn’t meet the level of these particular films, it is a quirky and fun addition to the genre. 

Best friends Ruth and Megan run a relatively successful vintage shop in the London suburb of Muswell Hill. After finding a time machine near a dumpster, the two begin using it to travel into the past to find items to sell in their shop. Unaware of the “rules” of time travel, their journeys to the past begin to unravel space and time. 

Time Travel is Dangerous isn’t the ornery variety of comedy, like Borat or What We Do in the Shadows. There’s a sweet silliness to the film that wraps you in a warm blanket but also doesn’t treat the audience like a group of blockheads. The science behind Time Travel is Dangerous isn’t the most important aspect of the film, but director Chris Reading isn’t interested in pushing it aside to make the film more digestible either. Unlike many time-travel-related films, viewers won’t need a diagram to follow along. I’m looking at you Primer.

Instead of falling headfirst into a complicated plot, Time Travel is Dangerous puts the characters front and center. Actors Ruth Syratt and Megan Stevenson bring the identically named characters to life with a world-weary familiarity. Their decision to use the time machine to travel into the past to collect merchandise for their store is exactly the dumb thing most people would do with such power. Ain’t no one going back to stop the assassination of JFK or see Dinosaurs. 

Reading wisely doesn’t let the film get too “big” for its budget or the winky tone. The mix of practical effects and CGI keeps with the overall silliness of the film without just looking cheap. If you can’t do a great-looking flying DeLorean, then a modestly looking flying van will have to do.

Time Travel is Dangerous isn’t full of belly laughs or tear-inducing howls. What it does do, though, is keep a smile on your face for a full 99 minutes.

Screening Room: Wicked: For Good, Sisu: Road to Revenge, Rental Family, Jay Kelly & More

Hope & George review this week’s new releases: Wicked: For Good, Sisu: Road to Revenge, Jay Kelly, Rental Family, Sentimental Value, Peter Hujar’s Day, Reawakening, Altered, and Time Travel Is Dangerous. Plus, movie news & notes from The Schlocketeer Daniel Baldwin!

Undercooked Allegory

Altered

by Daniel Baldwin

Socio-political allegory and science fiction storytelling go together like peanut butter and chocolate. One can enjoy their tastes separately, but when combined in the right portions, they taste even better together. The trick, of course, is in getting that mixture right. Making sure that the visuals, themes, world-building, and characters are all executed at a high level. When that’s done, we are handed gems like RoboCopChildren of MenThey LiveNemesisGattaca, or any number of Twilight Zone episodes.

Writer/director Timo Vuorensola (Iron Sky) gets a lot right with Altered. This film posits a post-apocalyptic society that outwardly seems like a utopia but is anything but for anyone who is not deemed genetically perfect by its leaders and culture. Those “unblemished” by genetic “deficiencies” are referred to as the Genetics. They are the “pure” ruling class.

Anyone deemed imperfect – those who are disabled in any way – are called the “Specials”. They are allowed to contribute to society, but generally only through manual labor and menial jobs. Platitudes of equality and unity are dished out in public speeches by the Genetics, but inequality is the true atmosphere of this world. Something that the Specials would like to change.

The world-building is effective, and the themes are relevant. The execution? Not so much. One can see what the film’s core message is meant to be – that we are all important and have worth to society – but these themes are frequently muddled by character and storytelling choices that undercut them throughout. Brief bursts of sci-fi action involving a (pretty silly) plant-powered super suit help to paper this over in bits, but it’s never enough to offset the often undercooked writing.

New lower-budget sci-fi movies roll out by the dozens each and every year. Given that Altered is on the higher end of those in terms of production value and cast (Tom Felton, Elizaveta Bugulova, Richard Brake, etc.), hardcore sci-fi fans may still find a bit to enjoy here. Casual viewers will find far less within to hold their attention. It’s a film that does have at least something going on under the hood, but there’s not enough gas in the tank to get it across the finish line.

Best Supporting Actor

Rental Family

by George Wolf

For the first few minutes of Rental Family, you’re not quite sure what it’s trying to be. Phillip, an American actor, is living and working in Japan, wearing funny suits in commercials to get by.

So, maybe fish-out-of-culture screwball comedy.

But then Phillip (Brendan Fraser) starts working at a company that “rents” whoever you need to make you feel better in a certain situation. The “Rental Family” firm needs a token white guy, and Phillip’s first assignment is playing a sad American at a funeral that results in a good laugh.

Still, maybe goofy comedy?

But at twenty minutes in, director and co-writer Hikari puts Phillip in an absolutely lovely human moment. As Phillip sees how good his work can make people feel, a possible warm drama of human connection comes into focus.

Hikari (Beef) and her writing partner Stephan Blahut base the film on real services for hire in Japan. To combat the stigma of mental health, the Japanese can “rent emotion” through actors playing roles in manufactured situations that make the clients seem more contented.

That is a sad necessity, for sure, and Fraser’s caring eyes and frequently furrowed brow speak loudly through various assignments. But as Phillip plays the father of a young girl trying to ace a school entrance exam, and then a reporter interviewing an aging actor who worries he’s been forgotten, the lines of fantasy and reality begin to blur.

Boundaries are crossed, secrets come to light and Phillip’s employer (the renowned Takehiro Hira) finds his entire business suddenly in jeopardy.

Hikari’s big heart is certainly in the right place here, but the film hits its highpoint with that early twenty minute moment. From there, the Oscar-winning Fraser is mainly held to one mopey note, and the emotional tone of the movie begins to feel a bit manipulative.

Mainly, Rental Family lands as a missed opportunity. There is potential here to spotlight a fascinating cultural commodity that parallels the manufactured reality of our social media age. What we get isn’t bad – in fact, it’s very nice – as long as you’re content with broad brushes and greeting card sentiments.

Historical Portrait

Peter Hujar’s Day

by Hope Madden

Linda Rosenkranz blurred lines between fiction and nonfiction, turning conversation into a microcosm of Chelsea Hotel-orbiting 1970s society. Peter Hujar—one artist in that orbit—provided photographic evidence of the same.

Writer/director Ira Sachs attempts to trap that same lightning on screen with Peter Hujar’s Day. Sachs adapts a transcript, part of a planned book by Rosenkrantz in which her artist friends simply dictated, in detail, every event of the previous day. We catch Peter Hujar on December 18, 1974.

Ben Whishaw is Hujar, dutifully detailing his previous day to a prodding, intimate Rosenkranz (Rebecca Hall). Theirs are the only faces you see, the only voices you hear, for the film’s brisk 75-minute run time.

The two fall into a delightfully familiar chemistry, Linda a little protective, Peter a tad vulnerable, but certainly committed. Every detail—from sleeping through his alarm and being awakened by a phone call, through all the phone calls, naps, liverwurst sandwiches, right up until being awakened in the middle of the night by the prostitutes talking business under his window—is recounted.

Faithful to the tone of Rosenkranz’s body of work, Sachs spotlights the fiction structuring the nonfiction, blurring lines while drawing attention to them. The banality of the exercise—forcing himself to remember every forgettable detail of a day—strips the conversation of ego or pretention, unveiling introspection and struggle.

Whishaw is exceptional, the rote and self-consciousness at the beginning of the conversation evolving into self-effacing humor and, eventually, raw bursts of personal reflection touched by lilting melancholy.

Hall is a gift in this role, the personification of the absolute joy in simply giving your attention, listening and being with a person.

Set design and cinematography befit not just the time period but the portraiture Hujar is known for. Sachs captures kindship and camaraderie among artists.

Peter Hujar’s Day is a peek inside a lost and treasured time, an era of punk rock artistic and literary revolution. It’s also a bittersweet dance with an artist underappreciated in his time, whose work and words pack a punch 50 years on.

Pieces of Time

Jay Kelly

by George Wolf

Oh, jeez, here we go. Just in time for Awards Season, it’s another group of Hollywood elites making a big Netflix movie about how great movies are, and how great the people making movies are and how hard those people work.

Cue the eye-roll. Can the Oscar-baiting get any more shameless?

Hang on there, hot-taker. Why can’t veteran movie-makers write what they know? Like any other story, it comes down to how well you’re telling it, and how much we’re invested in what’s happening to the characters.

Turns out, it’s pretty easy to care about Jay Kelly, about the people in his orbit, and the commitment required to make cinema feel like “pieces of time.”

George Clooney wears the title role like his most broken-in leather jacket. Jay Kelly is a veteran movie star, enjoying the comforts of his status while slowly realizing what he has given up to get it.

And it’s not just Jay. From his loyal manager (Adam Sandler) to his publicist (Laura Dern), old roommate (Billy Crudup) to first mentor (Jim Broadbent) and beyond, their is no shortage of people holding a to-do list that starts with making Jay Kelly comfortable.

Director Noah Baumbach and co-writer Emily Mortimer (who also takes a small role in a large ensemble) seem very committed to writing what they know and live. The script does get talky, but never preachy, and we do see the daily anxieties and the juggled priorities, plus the fun of often watching someone else get the glory.

The film’s pool isn’t deep and its claws aren’t sharp but easygoing humor and poignancy reign. As Jay prepares for his career tribute in Tuscany (where else?), Baumbach’s breezy structure often feels like an adaptation from some unknown Sondheim musical. Characters hustle in and out of the periphery while Jay enters rooms that let him visit scenes from his life, reflecting on past choices and strained relationships with his two daughters (Riley Keough and Grace Edwards).

The cast is littered with talent (including Greta Gerwig, Patrick Wilson, Isla Fisher and Stacy Keach), and Sandler may finally earn that Oscar nod he was robbed of in 2019’s Uncut Gems. But in the end, you may as well just pronounce the title as “George Clooney.”

His modern-day Cary Grant persona is so effortless (just look at him charming that trainload of fans!), it’s nearly impossible to imagine the film working without him. And by the time Jay is seated for a very recognizable career tribute, the line where Clooney stops and Kelly starts becomes pretty damn thin.

Do you appreciate movies? You like Clooney? Say hello to Jay Kelly.

Which Witch

Wicked: For Good

by Hope Madden and George Wolf

The lights are flickering, intermission is over, and Wicked: For Good brings us all back to that good problem Glinda and Elphaba have always had.

How do you match the high from part one?

Well, director Jon M. Chu and his magical cast return to do much of what they just did, for a grand, satisfying conclusion that comes about as close to last year’s Wicked as the material allows.

Did I say grand? Make that Grande.

As Glinda, Ariana takes more of the lead this time, in another pitch perfect turn that leans on the wonderful harmony with Cynthia Erivo’s amazing Elphaba.

After embracing the black hat and broom, Elphie is now on the run. The Wizard (Jeff Goldbum) and Madame Morrible (Michelle Yeoh) have opened the yellow brick road and ratcheted up their propaganda campaign, convincing the Ozzians of Elphie’s wickedness and the need to crack down on both animals and munchkins.

Glinda has become an official goodwill ambassador, putting on fake displays of magic and prepping the kingdom for her lavish upcoming wedding to Prince Fiyero (Jonathan Baily).

But Glinda and Fiyero know Elphie is not evil. If they help broker a truce and bring her home, can The Wizard be trusted?

The layers of state-sponsored disinformation, discrimination and cruelty are – surprise! – even more relevant this time, but become less of a focus. A promised romance finally emerges, along with the need to connect the narrative with legendary story beats from The Wizard of Oz.

Baily doesn’t squander his limited screen time. And while the romance has always been secondary to the friendship in jeopardy, it’s still fun to see Elphie decide there’s something to enjoy in being wicked.

Nathan Crowleys’s production design, Paul Tazewell’s costuming and the cinematography from Alice Brooks continue to dazzle, each environment and ensemble styled to emphasize the individuals Elphie and Glinda are becoming. Erivo embraces Elphaba’s maturity and resolve, and she’s never sounded better.

But Grande is the belle of this ball. Glinda trades in her rose colored glasses for clarity, and Grande wields the character’s vulnerability in ways that make the transformation heartbreakingly lovely.

Chu’s commitment to the source material—both the stage musical and Gregory Maguire’s novel—again delivers a compelling, resonant spectacle. But, as was true with the stage production, “Defying Gravity” is the high point of this show. Despite two original tunes, this second half contains fewer truly memorable songs, and ties to the events of The Wizard of Oz feel a bit forced.

And though Chu and returning writers Winnie Holzman and Dana Fox make some course corrections along this yellow brick road, the subtext and emotional depth of storytelling fall just a clock tick below the sublime fantasy of part one.

That’s really been the case since the original show’s opening night. The first half is just stronger, and there is no shame at all in this second place. Far from it. Wicked: For Good is thrilling, impeccably crafted and wonderfully performed. And after all these years and impossibly high expectations, for the complete adaptation of Wicked to be this satisfying may be the most impressive gravity-defying feat of them all.