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Kitchen Knives Out

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Tony

by George Wolf

Among other things, Tony is another reminder that we’d all be better off if everyone’s first job was in a restaurant. It certainly altered the course of Anthony Bourdain’s life, and director/co-writer Matt Johnson makes the most of focusing his biopic squarely in that one eventful summer of 1975.

“Tony” was 19 then, and by his own admission decades later in the Kitchen Confidential memoir, a narcissistic lout in need of a “good ass kicking.” The story of that BTA wakeup call makes for an entertaining coming-of-age tale full of humor, humanity and one righteous clambake.

Dominic Sessa is exceptional as the young Bourdain, who is so caught up in his future writing genius that he lies to everyone about the huge Vassar fellowship that he didn’t get. Following his crush Nancy (Emila Jones) to Provincetown, Mass., Tony is forced to earn his keep by washing dishes at The Flagship restaurant and sleeping in Chef’s (Antonio Banderas) hammock out back.

And so the education begins. While co-worker Sal (Tuner‘s Leo Woodall) schools him on the local women and party life, Chef’s gentle and patient influence nudges Tony to stop pretending and follow his passions.

Sessa, with his frantic hair and brooding intensity, makes the gradual transition frustrating, relatable and heartfelt. His chemistry with Banderas (in a performance perfectly suited for an Oscar nod) is warm and real, providing the film a reliable anchor that does not disappoint.

Johnson (Blackberry, Nirvana the Band the Show the Movie) has been clear that he came to the project with little knowledge of the Bourdain brand. That helps the film avoid undue reverence, and lets Tony’s future accomplishments hang bittersweetly in the air, an unspoken but understood step in this character arc from lout to legend.

Because in the summer of 1975, Bourdain’s future could have taken many different paths. Though the end was tragic, Tony finds a messy, inspiration joy in the beginning, and in the subtle twists of fate that can change lives forever.

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Payback’s a Bee-yotch

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The Rivals of Amziah King

by George Wolf

Back in 2019, Andrew Patterson’s debut feature The Vast of Night was a welcome surprise. Meticulously crafted with a detailed throwback vibe and some snappy dialog, it got me excited for what Patterson had in store.

We finally get his second feature with The Rivals of Amziah King, and once again, I am charmed.

His timeline shifts to present day, and the setting moves from New Mexico to Oklahoma for an adventure filled with rousing roots music, the basics of beekeeping, a Southern Gothic mystery and one clever plan for revenge.

Matthew McConaughey is electric as Amziah King, a rural beekeeper, musician and all around character who’s asked to help find the rightful owner of twenty barrels full of stolen honey. But after some absurdist violence, a reconnection with his former foster daughter Kateri (Angelina LookingGlass in a captivating debut) and a memorable pot luck/jam session, King finds his own bee colony has been lifted.

Kateri’s affection for King as a father figure has never wavered over their years apart, and she commits herself to payback for the guilty party. And she’s pretty sure the trail will lead right to local tycoon Dob McCoy (Kurt Russell).

Patterson has a delightfully unique brand of storytelling, one that retains a youthful innocence no matter what adult themes are being juggled. His wordplay is fresh and often deadpan funny, and his camera can oscillate between fluidity and bits of slo-motion for effect.

Two films in, it’s clear Patterson is a skilled world-builder. And here, that world is a small Oklahoma community with many interconnected parts and memorable personalities. The parallels that Patterson draws with bee colonies are clear but not force-fed, and his wonderfully eclectic ensemble makes it a kick to follow them around.

Patterson seems to be enjoying the bigger canvas for his second film, with a few strands of excess and a 130-minute run time that does get a tad bloated when we reach some odes to Huck Finn in Act III. But it always feels in service of a big swing and a committed vision, and that will always bee easy to forgive.

Yes, bee.

Outtakes

Don’t You (Forget About Mom)

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Don’t Say Good Luck

by Hope Madden

There is a sweet, delightfully messy coming-of-age film at the heart of director Julia Hart’s Don’t Say Good Luck.

As high school sophomore Sophie (Sunny Sandler) nervously auditions for the school musical, navigating friendship and crush and theatrical nerves, her relationship with her mom takes a hit. What’s refreshing about Don’t Say Good Luck is that each of Sophie’s high school sources of angst takes a back seat to her issues with her mom, rather than vice versa.

In your average John Hughes film, troubles at home are the backdrop for our plucky teen hero. Hart, who co-wrote the script with Laura Hankin and Jordan Horowitz, reframes priorities. The film is about Sophie and her mom (Melanie Lynskey).

Hart goes so far as to soften the villainous stereotypes Hughes trained us to expect. By rounding out the more minor characters and refocusing attention away from high school angst and toward family relationships, Don’t Say Good Luck abandons the age-old trope that teens are on their own, their parents just don’t understand.

It’s nice. Beyond that, it’s often moving.

Lynskey is characteristically wonderful, and she and Max Greenfield present a very natural, endearing, weary bond as parents going through something tragic. The chaos of their lives—a busy high schooler, twin boys, a deli they co-own where they both work—feels lived in.

Add, in minor supporting roles, the great Bebe Neuwirth and Steve Buscemi, and you’re looking at an impressive ensemble, ostensibly there to buoy Sandler, whose father and mother (Adam and Jackie Sandler) produce.

Sunny Sandler does a fine job in the spotlight. She’s fine, like her sister Sadie Sandler was fine in Roommates. She’s probably not strong enough to anchor this film, but she doesn’t sink it, either.

Still, there’s a refreshing untidiness about Don’t Say Good Luck that keeps you off kilter and helps the climax hit harder. The film lacks cynicism, believes teenage girls do dumb things but are not dumb people, and sees depth where other films choose not to. It’s an enjoyable high school dramedy, and one that acknowledges its audience’s humanity.

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A Good Day to be Clean

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Union County

by George Wolf

Union County is an absolutely stunning feature debut from writer/director Adam Meeks. Expanding his short from 2020, Meeks delivers a film that feels like a persistent memory, one with a deceptively subtle grip not easy to shake.

Gripping performances from Will Poulter and Noah Centineo blend seamlessly with a supporting cast of predominantly non-professional actors, imbedding us within a rural Ohio community struggling to escape the opioid epidemic.

Cody Parsons (Poulter) and his brother Jack (Centineo) are both addicts, but they navigate the court-mandated drug rehabilitation program is strikingly different ways. Jack is upbeat and smiley, charming girls at a local bonfire with an aura of positivity. But Cody, from his first day in the 18-month program, is reserved and quietly intense.

The heart and soul of the recovery program – and of the film – is Annette (Annette Deao). She is a tireless anchor of hope for the addicts, picking up the phone at all hours and absorbing their anger and frustration with the patience of a sage who knows there can be better days ahead.

Meeks, an Ohio native, goes straight to the frontlines of this national crisis, but he is careful to show us more than the grim, barren landscapes that so often characterize the Midwest. From the blooming of greenery to the changes in wardrobe to the rebuilding of a wrecked car, Meeks finds understated metaphors that gracefully mirror the journeys in play. His pace is led by a compassion that never wavers, no matter the tragedy or roadblock.

Poulter, who has been compiling a litany of standout performances since his teens, has never been better. We feel Cody’s struggle even in his quietest moments. And when he finally allows himself enough joy to smile, Poulter makes it a moment of internalized triumph. It’s a towering, award-worthy performance.

With more limited screen time, Centineo finds the wayward, fractured heart of a man whose more frequent moments of celebration may be misplaced, given the never-ending road he’s traveling. Jack is the loose family cannon, but Centineo makes his relationship with Cody, and their cautious sister Kat (Emily Meade, also terrific), both sympathetic and heartbreaking. 

And Deao? She’s a revelation. As a fictionalized version of herself, Annette (who did study acting years before her current career) consistently grounds the film with the unwavering commitment to all those – like herself – who are a daily lifeline for their community members just struggling to see another one. One of the film’s most pivotal moments comes from Deao’s real experience in the program, and it’s just one reminder of the life-and-death work being done in these American trenches every single day. 

The struggle is indeed real, in rural Ohio and so many other areas like it. But the hope, the humanity and the steps forward are equally real. Union County doesn’t rest until you feel every bit of all of it, and feel thankful for the time you spent here. 

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Always Be Cookie-ing

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Cookie Queens

by George Wolf

Did you ever look at the girl selling you Thin Mints and think, “she’s going to be a Supreme Court justice some day?”

You might start, once you meet the youngsters of Cookie Queens, a triumphant look at goal setting, upselling and the fleeting years of girlhood.

Writer/director Alysha Nahmias travels to North Carolina, Texas and California to immerse us in the frenzied weeks of cookie season with four budding entrepreneurs. There’s Ara in San Diego, an impossibly cute and precocious 5-year-old who hopes to be strong enough to pull her own wagon of treats. 8-year-old Shannon Elizabeth is in El Paso, practicing karate and trying to make sure her parents don’t have to skip a mortgage payment to pay for unsold cookies. Nikki is a 9-year-old in Chino, who has a family tradition to uphold while she’s chasing enough sales to earn a trip to Europe. And then there’s 12-year-old Olive, the future Supreme who sets sales records, schools her troop on upselling, and already frets about disparities in the relationship between management and labor.

With a week-by-week countdown and some helpful onscreen stats, Nahmias builds a subtle layer of sales tension while letting us glimpse how these girls, their families and friends are navigating life. It’s all endlessly engaging, full of inspiration, frustration and some way-too-early hints about the ways of the world.

We see older teenage sisters pine wistfully for the carefree days of youth, while those younger ones are already wondering about their purpose in life and learning that success can hinge on their appearance.

Yes, some parents can Cookie vicariously, but Cookie Queens never lets the focus stray from these wonderful young ladies. Even with all they are juggling during the height of selling season, their sparks of joy and enthusiasm can’t be denied.

And for us grown-ups, the film might make you sorry about the world we’re leaving these kids. But would I bet against them growing up and changing it?

Not a chance.

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Carnal College

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I Want Your Sex

by George Wolf

Even when a Gregg Araki film does not work for me at all (hello, Kaboom), I’m interested in his next move. Whatever he’s up to, you can make a safe bet it will be audacious, horny and pretty damn fearless.

I Want Your Sex is all that and a bag of charming.

Cooper Hoffman is a damn delight as Elliot, an affable, mop-headed goofball who’s thrilled to get a job working for Neo-pop artist Erika Tracy (Olivia Wilde, fantastically self-absorbed smoke show). Erika deals in frank sexuality, and waits a full week before giving her new assistant a no-nonsense, carnal proposition.

What’s Elliot to do? Yes, the studious Minerva (Charli XCX) is his girlfriend, but to her sex is an uninteresting chore, so….it’s DTF time!

Erika gets a new sexual muse, and Elliot gets to broaden his, ahem, horizons in various kinky ways. Though co-workers Vikktor and Zap (Daveed Diggs and Mason Gooding, respectively letter perfect) consistently roll their eyes at Elliot’s naïveté, he’s pretty okay with Erika’s benefits package.

That is, until there’s blood, a body, and two detectives (Margaret Cho, Johnny Knoxville) wanting answers.

Araki, who also co-writes with Karley Sciortino, crafts much of the film as a mystery told via shifting timelines. But each step in the Elliot/Erika relationship is so engaging you forget there are two cops ready to pop in with more questions. They can wait a hot minute, because Araki and company are having too much fun with this neon-colored tapestry of sexual mores, hipster sweat shops, Harold Robbins novels and penis rugs, all wrapped around frisky exclamations and hilariously droll asides.

Hoffman and Wilde are a down and dirty joy together, and their natural, committed chemistry gives the film a sweet, dare I say even sentimental layer I wasn’t expecting.

I was expecting the sexcapades, and all the usual Araki flourishes. But even while pushing all of these fetish boundaries, I Want Your Sex may be his most accessible film. And most thoroughly enjoyable.

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Good Sized Potatoes

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Spider-Man: Brand New Day

by George Wolf

Looks like our boy has gone and grown up. It happens.

When Tom Holland stepped into the Spider-Man suit nearly a decade ago now (!), he was 21 but looked 15, which was perfect. Peter Parker was a kid again, and that fact alone grounded the new franchise with a freshness and naïveté that was utterly charming.

It also gave the young man and his super alter ego plenty of room to grow. Spider-Man: Brand New Day raises the stakes with both familiarity and surprise, delivering a more adult-themed adventure that will thrill , satisfy and occasionally frustrate.

Peter has settled into his life as a friendly neighborhood hero, helping Detective DeWolff (Liza Colon-Zayas) bust bad guys even as she advises him to take some time off and quit being married to his job as a super friend. But, of course, the work takes his mind off of the fact that girlfriend MJ (Zendaya) and BFF Ned (Jacob Batalon) don’t even know him anymore.

And much like plenty of Superheroes before him, Peter begins to show sides of himself that even he doesn’t recognize. Severe headaches grow more frequent, and parts of his high-tech spider suit begin to malfunction as a very dangerous, and very elusive new villain emerges. And just when Peter needs to know who he can trust, everyone from Frank Castle/Punisher (Jon Bernthal) to Bruce Banner/Hulk (Mark Ruffalo) to a couple other recognizable names I won’t mention may have conflicting loyalties.

Director Destin Daniel Cretton (Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings, Short Term 12, Just Mercy) takes the franchise helm from Jon Watts, providing a winning pace and engaging visual style. After some well-placed nods to the youthful Spider-Verse aesthetic early on, Cretton buoys the maturation of the character with a more streamlined, focused approached to some really terrific action sequences. And while plenty of the CGI is appropriately super, Hulk’s facial features seem to have taken a curious step back.

Franchise screenwriters Chris McKenna and Erik Sommers return, giving credible weight to the introduction of themes that should be plenty familiar to superhero fans. Yes, some of the dialog banter lands as a bit forced and the humor is understandably downplayed this time out, but a few good moments of laughter find their mark – including a turn of the phrase “meager potatoes” which I now plan to work into daily conversation.

Holland still provides the heroic anchor, and he’s just so good with this character it appears effortless. His chemistry with Zendaya (duh) and Batalon is warm and real, and he makes Peter’s journey to becoming his own hero an organic and rewarding one. He’s still friendly, but now there’s a sense of loss and inner turmoil that makes the victories more sweet and well-earned. With Brand New Day, calling him Spider-Man doesn’t feel like a kid playing dress up anymore.

And those are good-sized potatoes.

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Shut Up and Plot Your Revenge

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Motor City

by George Wolf

Man, if you can hang with Motor City for about an hour and fifteen minutes, you’ll get one damn fine action sequence. Suddenly violent, increasingly bloody and eventually downright grisly, it’s an impressively choreographed and well shot set piece.

It’s also curious, considering the film surrounding it is a pretty tedious exercise in navigating a needless hurdle of its own making. And needle-dropping some sweet 70s hits.

The theme is simple enough: revenge. Ex-con John Miller (Alan Ritchson) is on probation and trying to toe the line in 1977 Detroit. He pops the question to his honey Sophia (Shailene Woodley) and things are looking up. But then Sophia’s gangster ex-boyfriend Reynolds (Ben Foster) frames John with a staged drug bust, and back to the slammer he goes.

So how does director Potsy Ponciroli (Old Henry) refresh the familiar idea from writer Chad St. John? By crafting Motor City as a nearly dialog-free thriller propelled by mood and music.

That “nearly” is the first curious bump in John’s long road to payback.

The few bits of dialog that are here just end up drawing attention to how hard the film is trying to get credit for telling most of this story without words. And it just isn’t necessary. Scenes that should naturally have organic conversation do not, and the strain of keeping the silent device intact is just too obvious.

I mean, do it or don’t. Since there is some dialog, Ponciroli’s commitment to visual storytelling ends up feeling more gimmicky and forced.

Foster and Woodley are customarily fine, Ritchson continues to show raw talent and real charisma, and Pablo Schreiber makes a perfectly menacing henchman. The soundtrack choices from Jack White (who also has a cameo) are on point, too, which helps keep the boredom at bay when the story just takes too long getting down to business.

And though revealing just what derails the finale would be too much of a spoiler, the result is anticlimactic and just plain silly.

But man, that one elevator scene shows just how much action potential is wasted in Motor City.

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Songbird Out Of Hell

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Hadestown: The Musical

by George Wolf

For the next week at least, Greece is most definitely the word at your local theatre.

While Christopher Nolan’s take on The Odyssey is wowing critics, audiences and box offices, the movie version of Broadway smash Hadestown combines the Greek tragedies of Orpheus and Eurydice and Hades and Persephone with an irresistible, jazz-infused treatment that dazzles from the opening glimpses backstage.

Screening in theaters for five nights only beginning July 24th, Hadestown unveils the “pro-shot” film capture of a reunion performance from last year in London. The five leads reprised their roles in the multi award-winning production, with veteran filmed stage feature director Brett Sullivan bringing new life to stage director Rachel Chavkin’s original vision.

Tony Award-winner Andre De Shields is a mesmerizing tour guide as Mr. Hermes, our host who explains “the road to hell is a railroad line,” as Anaïs Mitchell’s Tony and Grammy Award-winning score begins working it’s toe-tapping magic.

Young lovers Orpheus (Reeve Carney) and Eurydice (Eva Noblezada) face an uncertain future due to their life of poverty. When King Hades (Patrick Page and his delicious baritone) arrives to bring his wife Persephone (Amber Gray) back to the Underworld and usher in a harsh winter, Eurydice is intrigued by his offer to end her hunger and suffering. Urged on by the Fates, Eurydice signs Hades’s book and leaves Orpheus for a new life down below.

But Orpheus will not give up his quest to bring Eurydice home, and his commitment inspires Persephone to plead his case to her husband, leading to the legendary offer Hades extends to the couple for a final chance at their freedom.

Mitchell updates the classic myths with a timely parallel to our current chasm between the privileged and the struggling, and Sullivan bolsters that theme with a wonderfully active showcase for Rachel Hauck’s Tony Award-winning set design. Anchored by a rotating center stage with one circle descending to the Underworld, the set extends the movement outward to the dancing Fates, the terrific jazz musicians upstage and the frequently pacing Mr. Hermes.

Sullivan mines that sweet balance between framing the totality of the audience view with the more intimate moments a camera allows. Overplaying this hand would betray the innate beauty of a pro shot experience, but here the pushes only accentuate the emotion of the performances, the detail of the production design and the richness of the costuming (bonus points for turning Page’s cane and walking boot from an Achilles injury into a menacingly cool addition to the Hades swagger).

And much like its mythological sister The Odyssey, Hadestown‘s extended length (2h 21m) only gives you more time to relish the experience. The brief screening window (remember, only five nights beginning this Friday) however, does not.

So don’t miss your chance to bask in the joy and pain, tragedy and hope that Hadestown finally brings to the big screen. And get ready to put those jazz hands together, early and often.

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Mighty, Mighty Neighborly

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The Invite

by George Wolf

For a film set almost entirely inside one apartment, The Invite covers an awful lot of ground. It’s a trip through performative banter and anxious glances to repressed feelings, emotional honesty and possible new beginnings.

And it’s funny, in ways that are often relatable, revealing, and a good bit awkward.

Adapted from Cesc Gay’s The People Upstairs (stage play, then movie), the film finds Angela (Olivia Wilde, who also directs) and Joe (Seth Rogen) finally ready host their upstairs neighbors Pina (Penélope Cruz) and “Hawk” (Edward Norton) for dinner.

Well, Angela is ready, and schoolgirl nervous. Joe insists she didn’t tell him it was tonight, so he didn’t get any wine, and you know what if they come over he just might ask them to please tone down all those wild sex noises.

No! Joe can’t do that. Pina is so pretty, and Hawk is so cool! Angela just has to impress them and at least pretend that she and Joe are as happy as they are. Or at least as they seem to be.

It’s all polite laughter and rug compliments at first, but slowly the adapted script from Will McCormack and Rashida Jones begins probing old wounds, petty grievances and provocative possibilities. The cast wrings emotion from the dialog with the zest you would expect from a veteran foursome such as this. Cruz and Norton are effortlessly suave and sexy, while Rogen is the grumpy fly buzzing around the cheese tray and Wilde is the frazzled host desperate for the night to play out as she planned it.

It won’t. And everyone is better for it.

Wilde’s direction seems equally intent on bringing movement to this static setting, and for the most part she succeeds without showy desperation. Windows, doorframes and mirrors are carefully utilized in several shots, giving a visual boost to the emotional distance – or growing attraction – between characters.

It all works in wonderful unison for this wonderfully adult comedy/drama…okay I’ll say “dramedy.” Funny, biting, poignant, and surprising, The Invite speaks to how easily longtime couples can drift apart, and the hard fought honesty it takes to stick things out.

Plus, some people really like rugs.