Some laughs and some gasps, but a trio of fine films to choose from this weekend: Annihilation, Game Night and In the Fade. Plus, we talk through the good, bad and adorable available in home entertainment. LISTEN HERE.
The Fault in Our Selves
Annihilation
by George Wolf
Alex Garland’s work as both a writer (28 Days Later…, Sunshine, Never Let Me Go) and a writer/director (Ex Machina) has shown a visionary talent for molding the other-worldly and the familiar. Annihilation unveils Garland at his most existential, becoming an utterly absorbing sci-fi thriller where each answer begs more questions.
A strange force of nature dubbed “The Shimmer” has enveloped the land near a remote lighthouse, and is spreading. Years of expeditions inside it have yielded only missing persons – including Kane (Oscar Issac). When Kane suddenly returns home and almost immediately falls prey to a life-threatening illness, his wife Lena (Natalie Portman, perfectly nailing a desperate curiosity) is detained for questioning by the military.
Lena, a biology professor with years of Army training, volunteers to join the new, all-female exhibition into “Area X,” hoping to find any shred of information that could save her husband’s life.
Adapting the first novel in Jeff VanderMeer’s “Southern Reach Trilogy,” Garland has found a perfect scratch for his psychological itch.
Garland builds the film in wonderful symmetry with the hybrid life forms influenced by The Shimmer. Taking root as a strange mystery, it offers satisfying surprises amid an ambitious narrative flow full of intermittent tension, scares, and blood – and a constant sense of wonder.
Just his second feature as a director, Annihilation proves Ex Machina was no fluke. Garland is pondering similar themes—creation, self-destruction, extinction—on an even deeper level, streamlining the source material into an Earthbound cousin to 2001.
Utilizing wonderfully strategic splashes of color, and a shifting timeline that drops purposeful breadcrumbs, Garland gives us a mystifying new world from the comforts of our own. Annihilation is the work of a top-tier genre filmmaker, and a challenging journey offering many rewards for those with no appetite for spoon feedings.
Give the Devil His Due
November
by Christie Robb
Imagine a world in which Bergman’s Seventh Seal made it with Burton’s Edward Scissorhands and you kinda get a sense of Rainer Sarnet’s November.
Based on the Estonian novel Rehepapp by Andrus Kivirähk, the movie is set in a sort of fairy-tale-ish undefined time period. Estonian peasants scrape out a substance-level existence while German aristocracy exploits their labor and flaunts an unattainably extravagant lifestyle before them.
Not surprising, then, that some of them strike a deal with the devil.
You see, the peasants can manufacture a kratt to do manual labor for them and steal treasure. A kratt is a creature made out of bones, sticks, and bits of rusty household implements, brought to life by giving drops of blood to the devil. (And in this movie, kratts talk and are charmingly bananas and look an awful lot like they were designed by Vincent Price’s character in Edward Scissorhands.)
At the center of the film lies the unrequited love of two peasants. Liina (Rea Lest) is hopelessly in love with Hans (Jörgen Liik). Hans has the hots for the daughter of the local German baron. Lina and Hans each try to capture the attention of their beloved while communing with ghosts, employing the services of kratts and witches, managing lycanthropy, evading the plague, circumventing arranged marriages, and avoiding starvation during the impending long winter.
The movie is a mismatch of comedy, romance, fantasy, political theory, and philosophy all shot in exquisite black and white. Somehow it comes together, like the kratts, in a way that seems fresh, bizarre, and interesting.
Clowns Against Humanity
Game Night
by Hope Madden
Nobody does dry, self-deprecating humor as well as Jason Bateman. He’s such a natural as the put-upon husband/brother at the center of the Game Night tension, he becomes the action/comedy’s effortless center of gravity.
And the way this story orbits, circles back, veers around and comes back again, gravity is important.
Bateman plays Max who, with his wife Annie (Rachel McAdams), hosts a weekly game night at his house. But Max’s super cool brother Brooks (Kyle Chandler) wants to host this week, and Max’s creepy neighbor Gary (Jesse Plemons, creepy perfection) wants to come. Well, things are spinning out of control, aren’t they?
A tight script by Mark Perez gives a game cast (see what I did there?) plenty of opportunity to riff on each other and nerd up the place. The chemistry onscreen, particularly between couples—each of which is given the chance to create believable unions—elevates the hijinks.
McAdams steals scenes with comic charm, reminding us again of her spot-on timing and ability to generate plausible relationship backstory with anybody. Meanwhile, funny bits from Sharon Horgan and Lamorne Morris, in particular, keep the larger Game Night ensemble from letting the storyline lag.
The easy humor spilling from this cast pulls the film away from absurd comedy and turns it into something more comfortable. Because, even though there may or may not (or may?) have been a kidnapping and they may or may not (or may?) be making things worse, they have actually trained for this moment for years.
Because what is it that will help these couples live through the bizarre and twisted mess their game night has become?
Teamwork.
Directors John Francis Daley and Jonathan Goldstein (Vacation) keep the action low key. This allows the entire effort to indulge in the “so this is happening right now, then? Ok, let’s deal with that” kind of humor that is so characteristically Bateman. The comedy is upbeat and fun (though sometimes surprisingly violent) and true to the characters and their relationships.
It’s consistently fun and ultimately forgettable. Like a game night.
Grief in Three Acts
In the Fade
by George Wolf
Director Fatih Akin returns to an overtly political palette with In the Fade (Aus dem Nichts), and leans on a powerhouse lead performance from Diane Kruger to keep the film above standard thriller fare.
Kruger, starring in the first German language film of her career, is Katja, a German woman whose Turkish husband, Nuri, (Numan Acar) has rehabilitated himself after a stint in prison for dealing drugs.
On the way to meet a friend one morning, Katja visits Nuri’s office to drop off their young son, and never sees them alive again. They are the only casualties in what appears to be a targeted homemade bombing, and Katja’s recollections of a random woman she saw outside Nuri’s office become key in the trial of a neo-Nazi couple accused of the murders.
After his coming-of-age tale Goodbye Berlin two years ago, Akin is back on the socially conscious ground where he seems most comfortable. Most of In the Fade is anchored in a somber look at the toll of xenophobic hate, where human souls can come to be viewed as “no longer people.”
As a grieving mother looking for justice, Kruger delivers a masterful turn, making the weight of emotional turmoil feel achingly real. Katja struggles to exist in the haze of her heartbreak, juggling grief, bickering family members and a growing need for revenge. Kruger draws us in immediately, so much so that we feel the release when her quiet resolve finally erupts in emotional outburst.
The film’s third act, “The Sea,” has trouble delivering on the promise of all that Akin has cultivated in the first two (“The Family” and “Justice”). Events begin to follow a more conventional path, and though the outcome is striking, anyone familiar with Hollywood thrillers may find the narrative choices curious.
Worth seeing? Absolutely, and Kruger’s performance will likely linger even when the film’s voice does not.
I Don’t Want to Go Out—Week of February 20
I had a dream last night. It was about a poor wise man who changes the city.
Yes, among the very worst and most embarrassing (for us as a people) films Same Kind of Different as Me is available for home “entertainment” this week, but fear not. So are tons of other things: a colorfully adorable superhero flick, a couple of solid horror flicks, and one bad comedy. Though it not as bad—or as funny—as Same Kind…
Click the link for the full review.
Thor: Ragnarok
The Cured
Mom and Dad
Daddy’s Home 2
Same Kind of Different as Me
The Screening Room: Game Changer
It’s here! Black Panther has arrived, and we are thrilled to get to give a no-spoiler review of this amazing film, along with the other flicks to be seen in theaters this week: Film Stars Don’t Die in Liverpool, Samson, Early Man and The Female Brain. We also talk through the best and the worst in new home entertainment.
Listen HERE.
Soccer Buddies
Early Man
by Hope Madden
There is something adorably British about Nick Parks’s latest plasticine adventure, Early Man.
No I am not being condescending. It’s animated. It’s supposed to be adorable.
This Aardman export—the Brit animation studio responsible for the Wallace & Gromit classics, among others—pits dunder-headed but lovable cave dwellers against greedy Bronze Age Euro-trash as it spoofs sports flicks.
We open at the dawn of time, when dinosaurs and cave men and giant, toothy mallards roamed the earth outside Manchester, England. Around lunchtime.
It’s silly. And sweet. And basically a 90-minute mash note to Manchester United.
When those posh bullies from the Bronze Age (led by Tom Hiddleston’s Lord Nooth) push Dug (Eddie Redmayne) and his nincompoopy cavemen friends out of their fertile valley, Dug devises a challenge to regain his beloved home.
Like all great sports films, Early Man pushes the underdog narrative to epitomize more than simple foot-to-ball competition. Plus, you really do want these earnest faces, overbites and all, to learn to believe in themselves.
And why can’t a pig play soccer?
Dug’s quick trip into town square offers opportunities for the Aardman Easter eggs—be sure to scan the vendor booths for hilarious names. With voice talent to spare (Timothy Spall and Rob Brydon are among those with smaller roles), you’re assured the intentionally silly jokes are delivered expertly.
The problem is that Early Man would have made for a really hilarious short.
The story doesn’t benefit from a 90-minute stretch. The setting—mainly an imposing landscape littered with enormous rib bones—doesn’t offer enough opportunity for visual distraction and the characters are not memorable enough to keep your attention for the full run time.
Expect much of the familiar: googly eyes, enormous teeth, simple characters and kind-hearted laughter. CGI mixes with the stop-action to rob the film of some character, but Early Man has charm to spare.
She’s a Brainiac, Brainiac…
The Female Brain
by Rachel Willis
It seems strange that in 2018, romantic comedies continue to follow the same tired clichés. While some have mined new territory, The Female Brain isn’t taking any risks.
Focusing on four couples, the film explores the ups and downs of relationships through the studies of neurologist Julia (Whitney Cummings, who also co-writes and directs). Looking at how brain chemistry affects the way men and women behave, why they make certain romantic choices, and why they continue to make the same mistakes, Julia seeks to find answers to her own relationship traumas.
The film’s biggest issue is its lack of cohesion. The couples never share screen time, save one moment in which Steven (Deon Cole) and Adam (James Marsden) discuss how their significant others have changed or are trying to change them. And while it seems the couples are part of Julia’s study based on a few voice-overs, that fact is never quite clear. The movie would have been much stronger if it had kept a tighter focus on Julia’s story or found a better way to connect the couples and their foibles to her study.
There is some humor to be found, primarily from Cole and Cecily Strong. SNL veteran Strong shines, and plays well off of NBA veteran Blake Griffin, who does occasionally hold his own against his much funnier on-screen spouse. Unfortunately, most of the comedy falls flat, as the script relies too much on overused stereotypes: Women are either trying to change men or are too emotionally closed off to accept love.
Cummings is a capable actress. As Julia, she is sympathetic while managing to mine the humor from her role. However, as a director, she never manages to find her footing. The film’s pacing is off, resulting in a movie that feels much longer than its actual runtime. Cummings’s script (co-written with Louann Brizendine and Neal Brennan) suffers from banal dialogue. Any potential moments of originality are undermined by reliance on formulaic ideas of romance.
Hiding behind the guise of being scientifically sound in examining the difference between male and female brains, we’re sadly left with a film that reiterates the same stereotypes and problems of many romantic comedies.
Scissor Sister
Samson
by George Wolf
From parable to porno, it’s not the type of story you’re telling, it’s how that story is told.
Samson isn’t a disappointing effort merely because it’s a “faith based” film, but because it is lazy in almost every aspect, seemingly confident that its target audience doesn’t demand anything more.
It is 1170 BC, and we meet the Hebrew Samson (Taylor James) as a mischievous scamp, comically running from Philistine guards, winking at the village lovelies (they’re the ones sporting full runway-ready makeovers) and mulling his destiny as “God’s hand of vengeance.”
King Balek (Billy Zane) orders his son, Prince Rallah (Twilight‘s Jackson Rathbone), to keep Samson and his legendary strength in check. Rallah, with help from the cunning Delilah (Caitlin Leahy), hatches a plan that will bring Samson down and snuff out any Hebrew rebellion before it has the chance to start.
Directors Bruce Macdonald and Gabriel Sabloff (both vets of the faith-based genre) and their team of writers craft a drama full of ridiculous set pieces, weak production values (“check out these sweet fake beards I found in the Target Halloween aisle!”), soap opera dramatics and a complete lack of subtlety. Performances run the gamut, from amateurish (James) and stiff (Leahy) to scenery devouring (Rathbone) and waiting on you to turn that table into Bud Light (Zane, dilly dilly).
There’s a story here, full of wonder, cruelty, betrayal, intrigue and redemption. Samson leaves so much unexplored, just wanting the credit for telling it.
