Category Archives: New In Theaters

Reviews of what’s out now

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Up Where We Don’t Belong

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Everest

by George Wolf

First and foremost, the film account of a legendarily tragic Mt. Everest expedition has to look the part. By that measure, Everest is a masterpiece.

Director Baltasar Kormakur displays pristine craftsmanship and finely-tuned instincts in displaying both the awe-inspiring enormity of the mountain – and the folly of believing you are not at its mercy. Blessed with Salvatore Totino’s breathtaking cinematography, Kormakur (Contraband, 2 Guns) effectively translates the punishing nature of an Everest climb, using a gracefully fluid camera to build set pieces of wonder and true gut-wrenching tension.

You will feel cold, tired, and small.

Based on the deadly 1996 Everest trek chronicled in the best-seller Into Thin Air, the more intimate aspects of the story present some inherent disadvantages for acclaimed screenwriters Simon Beaufoy (127 Hours, Slumdog Millionaire) and William Nicholson (Les Miserables, Gladiator).

The sheer number of real people and unique personal angles involved makes it much more difficult to establish the deep connection of a more singular experience such as 127 Hours. Add in the hoods, hats and masks that cover many faces on the climb, and those not familiar with the book may find it hard to keep track of just who is who.

A mere 20 years seems too recent to siphon the events through fictional characters (a la Titanic), and Everest aims for as much humanity as each character’s screen time will allow.

These writers are more qualified than most to tackle it, and they are able to make some moments resonate, particularly with long-distance conversations between expedition leader Rob Hall (Jason Clarke) and his pregnant wife back home (Kiera Knightley). Their script also tackles the “why do you climb” question with welcome understatement, never elevating any one individual in the equalizing event that the group is marching into.

Ultimately, Everest feels like an earthbound bookend to Gravity. It’s a magnificent, grand scale achievement – the 3D IMAX version is a must – with a slightly less developed human side.

Verdict-3-5-Stars

 

 

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A Bloody Communion

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Black Mass

by Hope Madden

Johnny Depp is a remarkable talent whose film choices can be frustrating. Who’s to complain, just because he often buries his unique take on human foibles underneath quirky caricatures in wigs and eyeliner or a handlebar moustache?

I am – but not today. In Scott Cooper’s Black Mass, Depp may undergo a physical transformation, but it’s his skill and authenticity that leave an impression.

In this biopic, Depp plays Southie mob king James “Whitey” Bulger, a “ripened psychopath” who strikes a sweet deal with neighborhood pal turned FBI agent John Connolly (Joel Edgerton).

Front to back, Black Mass spills over with reminders of other films – in particular, The Departed and, thanks in part to the outstanding soundtrack, American Hustle. How could it avoid comparisons? How many new ways are there to tell a story about dodgy criminal/FBI alliances or the Irish mob in Boston?

Wisely, Cooper’s focus is on the complex relationship between Bulger and Connolly. Edgerton handles his character arc, from misguided idealist to blindly loyal accomplice, with subtlety, but this is Depp’s movie.

Depp’s nuanced evolution from friendly neighborhood sociopath to cruel monster leaves chills. He can turn on a dime, as he does in the now required Joe Pesci-esque episode. (Just substitute “funny how?” with “family recipe.”) But the more powerful scenes are the ones that sneak up on you – a situation with a colleague’s step daughter, or Bulger’s moments alone with Connolly’s wife.

The balance of the cast manages to keep pace with Depp’s forbidding performance – Rory Cochrane, Corey Stoll, Dakota Johnson, Juno Temple, and Peter Sarsgaard are all particularly impressive in small roles.

For all the truly fine performances, Cooper’s somber effort can’t seem to define itself. There are flashes – frames resembling a cross between a crime scene photo and an old picture postcard; or individual, eerily crafted moments – but the effort on the whole limits itself to by-the-numbers storytelling.

Depp, on the other hand, sporting vampiric blue contacts that emphasize Bulger’s eviscerating contempt and barely restrained violence, excels. Black Mass may not be quite able to separate itself from the pack, but Depp’s performance will leave a mark.

Verdict-3-5-Stars

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Royal Pains

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Queen of Earth

by George Wolf

Don’t bother trying to guess where Queen of Earth might be going, you’ll miss the beauty of getting there.

It’s a wildly enigmatic take on the dynamics of female friendship, ambitiously (and surprisingly?) told by writer/director Alex Ross Perry, who laces the character studies with descents into madness and subversive humor.

Catherine (Elisabeth Moss) is reeling from a traumatic breakup that hit not long after her father’s death. Her longtime friend Virginia (Katherine Waterston) offers the family lake house for some girl time, much like their getaway a year earlier when it was Virginia who was suffering.

As the women meet at the picturesque setting, it is clear they have grown apart from their days as BFFs, and Perry is no hurry to tell you why. Catherine’s ever-present sketch pad is an apt metaphor for the narrative structure at work here. Perry utilizes extreme closeups, shaky cameras, out of focus shots and quick fades to provide beautiful glimpses into a complicated relationship.

Slowly, the often combative dialogue and the out of sequence flashbacks provide some possible answers, even as more questions are raised. With a Gothic soundtrack and a constant sheen of despair, you begin to wonder if Perry’s vision will ultimately include a murderous rampage. 

But that would be too easy, and a betrayal of all that’s been building. Perry presents a perceptive tableau of emotions, all driven home to perfection through wonderful performances from his leads. Moss is downright electric, rolling through a spectrum of emotional outbursts and withdrawn silences with an authenticity that leaves you nervous to look away. Waterston may have the more “straight woman” role, but she gives Virginia a steely resolve that grounds the film, and invites curiosity into her side of this story.

Perry (The Color Wheel, Listen Up Philip) makes the comedy less overt and the psychological warfare more pointed this time out, but his familiar elements remain. Queen of Earth brings unlikeable characters who struggle with alienation, disenchantment and dangerous depression, and leaves you glad you didn’t pass on the chance to spend time with them.

 

Verdict-4-0-Stars

 

 

 

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You’ll Never Guess How It Ends

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Slow Learners

by George Wolf

“When was the last time you went on a date?”

“What day is it?”

“Sunday.”

“1986.”

That’s an amusing bit, and a great example of the wit that Slow Learners leans on to try and elevate a strikingly unoriginal premise.

Jeff (Adam Palley) and Anne (Sarah Burns) are desperate and dateless. He has women tell him he looks like a “lesbian newscaster” while she needs friends to remind her not to wear “the cat sweater.”

They’re buddies! They can’t get together because, you know, they just don’t think of each other that way! It would be weird…nervous laughter…ewww!

So of course they hatch a plan to help each other break out of their respective ruts, and before long Jeff is juggling more women than he can handle and Anne is finally catching the eye of that hottie who was always ignoring her. But still, they’re just not finding happiness, what ever will they do?

It is nice that for once, the can’t-find-lovers don’t look like Anne Hathaway or Jake Gyllenhaal. Palley makes you squint because he might be Jimmy Kimmel and Burns seems like that new SNL cast member you can’t name. They’re perfectly fine looking and likable enough, just not matinee idols, which becomes ironic when you think of the possibilities that the film leaves unexplored.

In his debut screenplay, writer Matt Serwood ignores the satire potential for a straightforward rom-com, managing consistent smiles, if only a couple laugh out loud moments. Directors Don Argott and Sheena M. Joyce, documentary vets behind the excellent The Art of the Steal, seem equally tentative about branching out. Too many scenes reek of improv class, while many production elements seem better suited for a small screen sit com.

Slow Learners is all in good fun, I guess, but you wonder if the effort might have been saved for something a little less stale.

Verdict-2-5-Stars

 

 

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To Grandmother’s House We Go

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The Visit

by Hope Madden

The Last Airbender. The Happening. After effing Earth. Man, it has been a long time since M. Night Shyamalan made a decent movie. If you keep that in mind – if you manage your expectations – his latest film, The Visit, is pretty enjoyable. It’s a step in the right direction, anyway.

A single mom (a very believable Kathryn Hahn) reluctantly allows her two teenagers visit their estranged grandparents in rural Pennsylvania for a week. You’ve seen the ads – things don’t go well.

Whatever the flaws, no matter the lack of originality, The Visit generates creepy dread punctuated by some genuine laughs, and it boasts several fine performances.

Ed Oxenbould is endearing, fun and funny as little brother/would-be rapper Tyler. Olivia DeJong is slightly less compelling as his sister/budding filmmaker Becca. (Yes, tragically, this is a found footage film – but it’s an M. Night Shyamalan film, so expect some weirdly beautiful vistas and panoramas given Becca’s age.)

She’s decided to make a documentary of the visit as a gift to her mother, and an attempt to rebuild the relationship that went south long before she was born. (This is a theme that echoes, somewhat tediously, throughout the effort.)

Nana and Pop Pop are played, quite eerily, by Deanna Dunagan and Peter McRobbie, respectively.

Per usual, Shyamalan peppers the mystery with more than enough clues, which you look right past. He’s a master at sleight of hand, and his film – modest as it is – showcases his enviable craftsmanship.

The Visit will absolutely not stand up to the filmmaker’s greatest efforts – Signs, Unbreakable, The Sixth Sense. Hell, it may just be the result of a flagging filmmaker turning backward, falling into patterns that garnered early success, but bringing less inspiration with him to the project. Whatever the reason or craft behind it, The Visit is easily the best film Shyamalan’s made in more than a dozen years.

Verdict-2-5-Stars

 

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War of the Words

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The Best of Enemies

by George Wolf
It was the insult heard ’round the world, and it just might have given birth to an entire industry of blowhard political pundits, talking loud and saying nothing.

Which is ironic, because Gore Vidal and William F. Buckley, Jr. did neither. Both seasoned intellectuals who proudly sat poles apart on the political spectrum, they came together during the presidential campaign of 1968 for a series of legendary, highly volatile debates.

Best of Enemies, a rich and entertaining documentary from directors Robert Gordon and Morgan Neville, gets inside the battles and studies their lasting effects on politics, the media and the men themselves.

In ’68, last-place ABC needed a spark for their coverage of both the Republican and Democratic conventions. They turned to Buckley, the conservative hero, and Vidal, the liberal champion, to end each day’s coverage with a spirited tête-à-tête.

“Spirited” was being polite, as the wordplay escalated to name-calling and a shocking (for the times) moment on live TV that Buckley regretted the rest of his life.

No less a TV icon than Dick Cavett sums it up succinctly: “The network nearly shat.”

Regardless of your political leanings, you can’t help but be impressed by what each man brings to the skirmish. Intelligence, wit, biting humor and thinly veiled disgust are all on display, conveyed with such a beautiful command of the language you can’t help but smile in the midst of their blood sport.

The debates, of course, were a ratings winner for ABC, instantly revealing the insatiable American appetite for argument.

Perhaps the most striking aspect of Best of Enemies is how little those arguments, and the divisiveness surrounding them, have changed. We have these same debates today, with sides that are just as clearly drawn.

The rulebook? That’s another story.

Best of Enemies lives in a time before you could “ignore the other side and live in your own world.”

If only for 87 minutes, it’s a welcome bit of time travel.

 

Verdict-4-0-Stars

 

 

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Identity Thief

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Phoenix

by George Wolf

Get some footing on a solid piece of ground, because this one might buckle your knees.

Phoenix is a gripping story of loss, hope, regret and resignation, told in a subtly devastating manner by director Christian Petzold.

Based on Hubert Monteilhet’s novel “Le Retour des cendres,” Phoenix takes us to Germany, not long after the Nazi surrender. Nelly (Nina Hoss) has miraculously survived the concentration camps, but the brutality left her disfigured. Longing to regain her looks and reunite with her husband Johnny (Ronald Zehrfeld), Nelly relies on social worker Lena (Nina Kunzendorf) to help reclaim her life.

After facial reconstruction surgery, Nelly searches the underbelly of postwar Berlin to find her beloved husband, despite Lena’s claim that it was he who betrayed her to the Nazis. Johnny is certain his wife is dead, but is struck by how much this mysterious new acquaintance looks like her, and he hatches a plan.

Petzold also co-wrote the script, and he employs a tantalizing “rope a dope” strategy for much of the film. Though he dutifully delivers all the elements for a polished, effective film, there’s no unique identity to stand out in the crowded field of holocaust-based dramas.

But, as Ali did with Foreman in 1974, Petzold has you where he wants you the entire time. He drops the plot’s first hammer in an almost casual manner, much like Llewelyn’s death in No Country for Old Men, and the result is all the more powerful.

The entire film instantly takes on a greater level of gravitas, and it continues on its determined path even as you’re dizzy from the sudden new level of emotion. Hoss, Zehrfeld and Kunzendorf all give deeply affecting performances, keeping you riveted until the inevitable, shattering conclusion.

Though the film’s title tips the hand of its postwar metaphor, the way Petzold weaves it into themes of identity and intrigue is downright masterful, and it renders Phoenix an experience of simmering emotional power.

 

Verdict-4-0-Stars

 

 

 

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Into the Woods

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A Walk in the Woods

by Hope Madden

In 1998, Bill Bryson published the funny human adventure A Walk in the Woods – the tale of a man grappling with his morality by walking the Appalachian Trail. To stave off boredom he invites (perhaps mistakenly) a friend. Though it lumbers at times, the book is a fun odd couple account of human frailty and the vastness of the natural world.

It’s 2015, and Robert Redford has released a broad, uninspired treatment/vanity project. Redford plays Bryson, the travel writer bristling against age and stagnation. Nick Nolte is Stephen Katz, the overweight, gimpy recovering alcoholic eager to accompany him on his journey.

It’s hard to understand what made Redford want to create this wisp of a comedy road trip after last year’s gripping The Wild, a film that treads very similar ground. But where Reese Witherspoon’s Oscar nominated flick illustrated personal exploration and the redemptive power of nature, Redford’s is content with lazy gags and hollow attempts at profundity.

Redford and Nolte lack chemistry, and while Nolte entertains in several humorous moments, Redford’s utter lack of comic timing is itself kind of awe inspiring.

It’s also absurd casting, given that Bryson – in his 40s when he attempted the trail – was facing a midlife crisis, yet feared he may be too old to make the trip. Nick Nolte is 71 and Robert Redford is 79, for lord’s sake.

At least you can expect a breathtaking view, though, right? Wrong. Director Ken Kwapis misses every opportunity to exploit the sheer gorgeousness of the AT, providing no more than 3 lovely, if brief, images of natural beauty. Nor can he authentically express the passage of time, articulate the grueling nature of the journey, or build tension, and he and his writers (Rick Kerb and Bill Holderman) utterly abandon the enjoyably creepy representation of the South you’ll find in Bryson’s text.

An early draft of the script came from Michael Arndt, whose work on Little Miss Sunshine and Toy Story 3 suggests the kind of playful humor and storytelling skill the project deserved. Unfortunately, the end product came from the keystrokes of Redford’s regular contributor Holderman, which may be why Redford so rarely makes decent movies anymore.

Verdict-2-0-Stars

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A Beacon of Hope for Lesser People

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Mistress America

by George Wolf

If you thought director Noah Baumbach was turning all populist after While We’re Young, take heart! At my recent screening of Mistress America, five people walked out within the first twenty minutes, apparently put off by hilariously flawed characters who talk to themselves, but at each other, without mercy.

Their loss.

It’s a charming, wonderfully offbeat, fast-paced dialogue fest, and a perfect vehicle for Greta Gerwig, who co-wrote the script with Baumbach.

Gerwig stars as Brooke, a busy New Yorker who seems happy to get a visit from her soon-to-be stepsister Tracy (Lola Kirke – impressive), an 18 year-old student at a nearby college. Brooke bombards Tracy with stories of her exciting life and social calendar (“He’s the kind of person I hate – except I’m in love with him!”), instantly gaining an admirer. Tracy’s reserved demeanor is no match for hurricane Brooke, and soon Tracy and two friends are joining Brooke on a mission to persuade her rich old boyfriend Dylan (Michael Chernus) into bankrolling her plan for a new restaurant/hair salon/cool place to be combo.

The gang ends up crashing a party hosted by Dylan’s wife (loves these names) Mamie-Claire (Heather Lind). Mamie-Claire may or may not have stolen Brooke’s idea for a line of t-shirts, and the visit descends into a madcap frenzy of incidents and allegations. As characters move throughout the rooms of Dylan’s lavish house, Baumbach stages it to perfection, much like a high school play directed by a coked-up Woody Allen.

Underneath the inspired insanity, though, lies a love letter to the written word. Tracy desperately wants to join her school’s literary club, and she uses Brooke as the basis for a short story that she hopes will be accepted into their magazine.

As the characters’ continue their rapid fire, often non-sequitur dialogue, it’s offset with Tracy’s voiceover reading of the measured, wonderfully flowing prose of her short story. This not only puts a spotlight on the art of writing, it cleverly reinforces the film’s undercurrent of self-delusion.

Brooke lives to define herself, as Tracy so eloquently puts it, as “a beacon of hope for lesser people,” regardless of how well her definition aligns with reality. “Lesser” people’s descriptions aren’t as welcome, a fact beautifully illustrated by a scene where Brooke is recognized by an old high school classmate. Gerwig is a true wonder in the role, combining comic timing with the depth needed to make Brooke sympathetic no matter how much you want to dislike her.

Will Mistress America be the movie where the masses (minus those five party poopers from my screening) get hip to Gerwig’s unique talents?

Let’s hope so.

Verdict-4-0-Stars

 

 

 

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Saturday Mornings Come to Life

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Turbo Kid

by Hope Madden

For the 10-year-old boy inside us all, Turbo Kid opens cinematically and on VOD today. It takes us to the post-apocalyptic future of 1997, many years after the catastrophe that destroyed most of humanity, leaving a scrappy few to scavenge for water and survival.

The film is expanded from a short originally rejected by the ABCs of Death franchise (in favor of T is for Toilet – eesh). The short is worth a Google, but the full length film is a celebration of early Eighties storytelling and juvenile imagination.

It’s a mash-up of the Power Rangers and Hobo with a Shotgun. That is, it’s a perfectly crafted time capsule: a low budget, live action Saturday morning kids show – except for the blood spray, entrails and f-bombs.

The Kid (Munro Chambers) wheels around the wasteland on his sweet bike, picking up bits of retro treasure to trade for water, ever watchful for the henchmen of evil overlord Zeus (Michael Ironside). His one real solace comes from the Turbo Man comics he gets in trade for his scavenged booty.

When his only friend, Apple (Laurence Leboeuf) – an energetic, teal-wearing girl – is in danger, he becomes Turbo Kid. Together he, Apple, and a mysterious Australian arm wrestler take on Zeus to free fellow survivors from his oppressive, bloody leadership.

Writing/directing team Francois Simard, Anouk Whissell, and Yoann-Karl Whissell have crafted a delightfully absurd action comedy. Its 1982-ish panache is joyously spot-on, and the combination of innocence and gore perfectly captures the pre-teen cartoon watcher’s imagination.

And Michael Ironside! The feral Canadian makes a glorious Zeus, flanked by scoundrels and outcasts suited for a Mad Max film. (The early ones, before the budget and talent came in.)

Turbo Kid is not trying to be Mad Max, though. It’s trying to be the imagined Mad Max (or Indiana Jones or Star Wars or Goonines) game you and your stupid friends played in the neighborhood on your bikes, and it succeeds miraculously because Turbo Kid never winks or grimaces at its inspiration. This is a celebration, not a campy mockfest.

Yes, it has trouble keeping its energy for the entire 89 minute running time, but for those of us who took our Saturday morning shows out to the neighborhood streets every weekend, it’s a memory blast.

Verdict-3-5-Stars