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Art Imitating Life Imitating Opera

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Seven Veils

by George Wolf

Real-life creative roadblocks pushed filmmaker Atom Egoyan to channel his frustrations into a new project. Seven Veils is the result, an impressively crafted and consistently compelling psychological drama of life imitating art imitating opera.

A few years back, Egoyan was set to re-mount his vision of Richard Strauss’s Salome with the Canadian Opera Company. Producers blocked some of Egoyan’s proposed changes, which led him to create the character of Jeanine.

Jeanine (Amanda Seyfried) is a young theatre director given the reins to a re-mount of Salome, which was the crown jewel in the resume of her mentor, Charles. Producers would no doubt prefer someone more seasoned at the helm, but it was Charles’s dying wish for Jeanine to direct, and she dives into the project with earnest ambition and a complicated past.

Repressed trauma begins to influence Jeanine’s edits to the production, and her ideas are met with a resistance that leads to mockery.

Egoyan (Chloe, The Sweet Hereafter) was able to incorporate the set of his own staging of Salome into the Seven Veils production, giving the film’s fictional opera a sumptuous, authentic visual pull that helps to seamlessly blur the narrative lines.

Because whether these characters are on stage or off, Egoyan funnels every thread through the act of spectating. Jeanine watches rehearsals. Cast and crew watch Jeanine. Jeanine has face-time conversations with her mother and her estranged husband, while production artist Clea’s (Rebecca Liddiard, an ensemble standout) BTS vlogs fuel some desperate backstage deal-making.

And as Jeanine complains about the effect of an intimacy coordinator on her plans for more overt sexuality onstage, persistent flashbacks foreshadow the film’s third act turn toward melodrama. It’s Seyfried’s committed performance that keeps the series of reveals from collapsing under pulpy self-indulgence.

Jeanine is clearly working through some things, and Seyfried makes it worthwhile to labor along with her. Instead of overwrought hysterics, Seyfried brings a slowly unraveling intensity to Jeanine, allowing the unease that inspired Egoyan’s Seven Veils to play out as a fascinating peek behind the creative curtain.

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Horny Danger

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Riff Raff

by George Wolf

What’s that you say? The Monkey‘s brand of humor wasn’t dark enough for ya?

Well Merry F-ing Christmas. Riff Raff lives where it’s none more black, crafting just enough murderous, deadpan funny business to make it worthwhile.

The trouble all starts when Rocco (Lewis Pullman) and his pregnant girlfriend Marina (Emanuela Postacchini) run into Johnny (Michael Angelo Covino). The three share a romantic and friendly past, but when Johnny turns violent Rocco retaliates, which means he and Marina quickly find themselves on the run from Johnny’s gangster father, Lefty (Bill Murray).

The two head to Maine, and check in with Rocco’s father Vincent (Ed Harris), his wife Sandy (Gabrielle Union) and their teenage son D.J. (Miles J. Harvey). Oh, yeah, Rocco’s mother/Vincent’s ex Ruth (Jennifer Coolidge) is there, too, and danger sure makes her horny!

Hubba hubba, then, because danger’s on the way. Lefty and his henchman Lonnie (Pete Davidson) are coming to settle plenty of scores with Rocco’s extended brood.

There’s already much to keep track of, even before director Dito Montiel and writer John Pollono add in various time jumps and voiceover narration from young D.J. At times it feels like they’re both pushing too hard for nutty originality, desperate to put distance between this and other films you’ll be reminded of – especially Bad Times at the El Royale (also with Pullman).

What the film does have in its corner is a winning cast of vets who are all in on this dark ride. Of course, Murray and Coolidge are both a hoot, but Pullman and Postacchini seem believably desperate, Harris and Union hide their character secrets well, and Davidson brings a comically sympathetic layer to the doting and lethal Lonnie.

And when P.J. Byrne and Brooke Dillman pop in as an oversharing couple of suburbanites who are too clueless to be scared, their few minutes of exaggerated laughs are a welcome yin to the yang in the rest of the film.

It’s dry, bloody and violent, and is sure to be polarizing. If that’s an approach that speaks to you, Riff Raff can be downright hilarious. But chances are you may find this family crime caper as curious as it is funny.

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Shoot the Glass

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Cleaner

by George Wolf

Just months ago, Netflix thriller Carry-On rode a serious Die Hard vibe for a ridiculous bit of popcorn fun. Cleaner has much of the same in mind, borrowing some more specific plot points for Daisy Ridley’s turn as the fly in some terrorist’s ointment.

Ridley plays Joey Locke, an ex-soldier who still carries scars from an abusive childhood shared with her autistic brother Michael (newcomer Matthew Tuck). Joey is already struggling to hold on to her job as a window cleaner and make sure Michael is cared for, but her day is about to get much worse.

Joey’s latest gig is cleaning the windows at the London high rise where the Agnian Energy Corp is holding their annual gala. No, it’s not Nakatomi Plaza and it’s not Christmas Eve, but Marcus (Clive Owen) and his group of environmentalist activists crash the party with a plan to expose Agnian’s history of crime and corruption.

At least, that what Marcus thinks. His buddy Noah Santos (Taz Skylar) has more extreme plans, violently hijacking the operation and the building, with 300 hostages (including Michael) inside.

Their best hope? One pissed off Joey, right outside the glass, dangling high up on her cleaning platform.

At first, Joey is only thinking of Michael’s safety. But once inside the building, the anti-authority streak that got Joey kicked out of the military pushes her to go after the bad guys, and Ridley sells it with gusto.

Veteran director Martin Campbell (Casino Royale, Goldeneye, Memory) doesn’t waste time in getting down to business, and engineers some effective action set pieces both inside and outside the glass. And the team of screenwriters does arrange a surprise of two amid the mash of recycled ideas.

But when you have someone as talented as Ridley cast as the everywoman trying to save the day, the idea still works. She seems especially energized at the chance to get physical, and manages to pull the unmemorable Cleaner up to satisfying new heights.

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Hookers and Blow

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Paddington in Peru

by Hope Madden and George Wolf

So what has Paddington bear been up to in the eight years since the classic Paddington 2?

Well, he’s got a new director (Dougal Wilson in his feature debut), a new Mrs. Brown (Emily Mortimer steps in for Sally Hawkins), and a brand new British passport (with an unusual photo)! And that legal ID comes in mighty handy when Paddington (perfectly voiced again by Ben Whishaw) gets a mysterious letter from Peru.

Aunt Lucy is missing!

So what’s there to do except pack up the Browns, Paddington, and Paddington’s brand new deluxe umbrella and head out to solve the mystery. After meeting with the Reverend Mother (Olivia Colman, always a plus) and collecting clues at the Home for Retired Bears, the gang hires dashing Captain Hunter Cabot (Antonio Banderas) and his daughter Gina (Carla Tous) to take them up river and straight into a jungle adventure.

Because while Paddington and family may be searching for Aunt Lucy, certain other parties are searching for El Dorado, the mythical lost city of gold!

The bar set by Paddington 2, an honest to God masterpiece, is very high. Dougal and team had their work cut out for them, and the Browns’ Peru visit is never quite as intricate, clever or transcendent as the last installment. But Colman’s comedic genius, lushly crafted scenery, meticulous CGI, and the cast and filmmakers’ commitment to the earnest charm characteristic of the franchise guarantee a delightful cinematic experience for every member of the family.

Dougal keeps the pace and perils lively, while the new screenwriting team (Mark Burton, Jon Foster and James Lamont) delivers sweet family fun that weaves in some warm furry feelies before the credits roll and a surprise guest appears.

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Mommy’s Little Angel

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Armand

by George Wolf

If you’re the parent of young children, your first reaction to troubling accusations against them is likely to be denial.

There must be some mistake, right? My child would never do such a thing.

It’s a catalyst that almost demands taking sides, and one that writer/director Halfdan Ullmann Tøndel explores to unique effect in Armand.

The mesmerizing Renate Reinsve (The Worst Person in the World, Handling the Undead, A Different Man) is Elisabeth, a Norwegian actress who is summoned to her son’s school for an urgent conference. Six year-old Armand has been accused of bullying his friend Jon in the boys restroom. The incident apparently involved acts of “sexual deviation.”

Jon’s parents, Sarah (Ellen Dorrit Petersen) and Anders (Endre Hellestveit) are waiting at the school with two administrators and the boys’ teacher. And what begins as a calm attempt at fact-finding slowly dissolves into a fascinating unraveling of mystery, fantasy, and outright curiosity.

Ullmann Tøndel and cinematographer Pål Ulvik Rokseth keep us inside the sterile school building for nearly all of the film’s two hours, puncturing the strained decorum with an array of devices. There are persistent nosebleeds, the sound of heels echoing on hard floors, moments of psychological performance art, and one alarming fit of laughter that purposely strains your patience.

It all helps to distinguish the film from similarly themed dramas such as The Teacher’s Lounge or even Mass, but also threatens to keeps us detached through self indulgence. The can’t-look-away excellence from Reisve never lets it happen, and Armand – which won the Caméra d’Or, for Best First Feature last year at Cannes – rewards audience commitment with a satisfying, if not exactly revelatory, resolution in Act Three.

The characters may be talking about children, but the film is talking about adults. Armand presents a challenging, but ultimately haunting take on the lingering dangers of convincing ourselves that everything is fine.

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Family’s Feud

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Bring Them Down

by George Wolf

Just weeks ago, Christopher Abbott was wrestling with wolves. Now it’s sheep, and the bloodlines still get bloody.

In Bring Them Down, Abbott is Michael O’Shea, a sheepherder who lives with his ailing father Ray (Colm Meaney) in the Irish countryside. Their farm shares a grazing hill with the Keelys – Gary (Paul Ready), Caroline (Nora-Jane Noone) and their son Jack (Barry Keoghan), and Irish eyes are seldom smiling.

Michael and Caroline share a past, as well as a painful tragedy that the villagers still whisper about. So relations are already chilly. But when Michael catches the Keely boys trying to sell two O’Shea rams as their own, things escalate quickly.

This is grim stuff, as desolate as the Irish landscape. And much like the bare-fisted feuds that the Irish travelers in 2011’s Knuckle cannot exist without, the Keely and O’Shea men seem held by an enabling bond of generational trauma shattered only occasionally by the more pragmatic Caroline.

In a feature debut that fluctuates between the English and Irish languages, writer/director Chris Andrews crafts a taut family drama fueled by pain, violence and a tight circle of engrossing performances. Abbott’s intensity shows Michael has learned to navigate his guilt and anguish with quiet resolve, while Keoghan again proves adept at fleshing out the vulnerable shades of a dangerous character.

These are deeply committed and affecting turns, consistently elevating a story that’s left searching for that final thread to make its truly memorable. And in the third act, Andrews does introduce a sudden time shift, rewinding to reveal new angles of previous events. The attempt at an added layer of narrative depth is warranted, but this one lands with a curious and negligible effect.

Still, with a solid sense of setting, cast and framing, Bring Them Down heralds Andrews as a filmmaker of great potential. Once his actors get a little more character to chew on, he may start building his own legacy.

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Sowing Suspicion

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The Seed of the Sacred Fig

by George Wolf

Mohammad Rasoulof’s films have shown him to be an insightful storyteller. His backstory reveals a courageous activist who continues to endanger his own life and freedom in support of artistic expression.

His latest, The Seed of the Sacred Fig, weaves in important details and actual footage from protests that erupted in Iran after the government’s brutal killing of Mahsa Amini in 2022. As the narrative evolves from hushed family drama to frantic thriller, writer/director Rasoulof again shows his skill at turning intimate details into an allegory for oppression from a religious patriarchy in his homeland and beyond.

Iman (Missagh Zareh) has just been promoted to an Inspector’s post in Tehran (on the court that actually sentenced Rasoulof just three years ago). It’s a big moment for the family – Inspector is just one step below a judge – and Iman’s wife Najmeh (Sohelia Golestani) is hoping they’ll soon be awarded an apartment big enough for their teen-age daughters to each have their own bedroom.

Instead, Iman is awarded a gun.

Inspectors are involved in very serious cases. So serious that Iman must watch his back, Najmeh must not ask questions, and daughters Sana (Setareh Maleki) and Rezvan (Mahsa Rostami) must choose their friends very carefully and stay off of social media.

Naturally, the girls have trouble adjusting and plead with their father to help when their friend Sadaf (Niousha Akhshi) gets caught up in student protests and is arrested. This is a delicate issue, indeed, but it is when Iman’s gun turns up missing from the home that fear and suspicion completely overtake the household.

The loss of his gun could ultimately send Iman to prison, and the father turns to desperate measures against his own wife and children to root out the culprit.

Often filming in secret, Rasoulof assembles the escalation of events so carefully, and the performances are so achingly real, that nearly every frame of the film’s two hour and forty-five minutes seems necessary. The young daughters ask the defiant questions their parents abandoned long ago, supported with subtlety by an Iranian filmmaker daring to show women without head coverings (even in their homes).

Rasoulof has now fled Iran, while Zareh and Golestani have both been banned from travel. The Seed of the Sacred Fig stands as a testament to their courage, and as a sobering act of revolution.

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RSV-P.O.’d

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You’re Cordially Invited

by George Wolf

Can you believe there are some people who don’t think Will Ferrell is funny? That’s crazy to me. And what about the ones who claim they aren’t instantly charmed by Reese Witherspoon?

Okay I don’t know anyone who doesn’t like Reese Witherspoon. But the point is, putting Will and Reese together isn’t a bad strategy for getting your Prime Video rom-com a little script insurance.

Writer/director Nicholas Stoller buys in for You’re Cordially Invited, and surrounds his two leads with an equally likable ensemble that delivers some lively smiles even when the antics go a bit overboard.

Will is Jim, a widower whose sweet pumpkin Jenni (Geraldine Viswanathan – a delight as usual) just got engaged to Oliver (Stony Blydon)! Reese is Margot, who volunteers to plan her sister Neve’s (Meredith Hagner) wedding to Dixon (Jimmy Tatro). Through a ridiculous mixup that somehow feels like it could happen I suppose, Jim and Margot both end up reserving the very same private wedding venue on the very same weekend.

They reluctantly agree to make the best of it, but it isn’t long before the two wedding planners go “chaos monkey,” and start planning some mischief to each make sure it’s their celebration that gets the upper hand in marriage.

Stoller (Forgetting Sarah Marshall, Get Him to the Greek) pits reality TV exec Margot and her bless-your-heart southern family (Leanne Morgan, Rory Scovel, matriarch Celia Weston) against the probably a hairdresser Jim and his daughter’s rowdy bridesmaids (Keyla Monterosso Mejia, Ramona Young, Lauren Holt). Expect drunken toasts, hurt feelings, black eyes, alligator wrestling and some enthusiastic, “Islands in the Stream” karaoke-ing.

For me, the only true LOL moment comes with the late reveal of what Jim really does for living (and Ferrell’s priceless delivery of that information). Still, there are amusements along the way, and some well- meaning lessons about judging people too quickly and feeling lonely around your own family members.

Of course you know where it’s ultimately headed. But with Will & Reese at the top of this engaging guest list, You’re Cordially Invited throws a home steaming party that’s slightly more fun than forgettable.

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A Friend Indeed

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Brave the Dark

by George Wolf

In just four years, Angel Studios has become a leader in the faith-based entertainment market. TV’s The Chosen and the feature films Cabrini and Sound of Freedom were target audience favorites, and garnered at least some critical acclaim.

Angel’s latest production, Brave the Dark, lightens the hands and the editorializing for a generically successful crowd-pleaser about the power of belief for a troubled soul.

Co-written and directed by Damien Harris, the film is based on the life of Nathan Williams, who overcame a traumatic childhood thanks to the mentorship of his teacher, Stan Deen.

In and out of Pennsylvania foster homes after the death of his parents, Williams (Nicholas Hamilton, It, It Chapter Two) robs a store with some friends and is convicted of burglary. He’s saved from jail under the guardianship of Mr. Deen (Jared Harris, Damian’s brother), who is seemingly a favorite of everyone in the community.

But Nate continues to act out at nearly every turn, and the message that he doesn’t believe in his own worth is delivered as clearly as Deen’s need to soothe his loneliness after the painful death of his wife. Hamilton echos the film’s struggles with nuance, while the veteran Harris brings enough endearing authenticity to help smooth the rough edges in their many scenes together.

The film is another blunt, save-the-children instrument for Angel Studios. And it’s needlessly overlong as it slogs through multiple flashbacks on its way to a fairly obvious reveal and an “it’s not your fault” breakthrough that should have tried harder to distance itself from Good Will Hunting.

But there is heart here, and the real Nathan’s closing credits plea to “pay it forward” is sweetly schmalzy. Even better, the sincere attempts at storytelling are just competent enough to reach beyond the choir.

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City Hands

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Into the Deep

by George Wolf

In the category of shark movie stunt casting, Into the Deep may have bagged the great white whale. Because for the first time since Jaws set the standard fifty years ago, Richard Dreyfuss is sharkin’ again (note: piranha movies don’t count).

Well, he’s not actively sharkin’, as Dreyfuss plays Seamus, whom we mainly see schooling his granddaughter Cassidy on how important it is to respect the ocean and everything in it.

“It’s their kingdom. You’re a guest.”

Young Cassidy (Quinn P. Hensley) learns that the hard way when a shark attack kills her father. Years later, adult Cassidy (Scout Taylor-Compton) is an oceanographer still haunted by the nightmares of her father’s death, but willing to put fears aside for a pleasure trip with her new husband, Gregg (Callum McGowan).

Old friend “Benz” (Stuart Townsend) runs a weathered charter boat on the coastline, so Cass and Gregg agree to join another couple for some wreck diving. But before you can bid adieu to some fair Spanish ladies, both sharks and pirates come cruising.

The evil – I mean c’mon, look at the scar on his face! – Jordan Devane (Jon Seda) and his gang of former Navy SEALs hijack Benz’s boat, forcing the tourists to dive the shark-infested waters and retrieve their stash of drugs waiting below.

The movie’s tagline is the shameless “under water no one can hear you scream,” which immediately sets a low bar of expectations that director Christian Sesma manages to hit. Flashbacks are juggled awkwardly enough to kneecap any sort of tension, and while the CGI sharks work well enough in dream sequences, the actual attack set pieces are embarrassingly weak. Screenwriters Chad Law and Josh Ridgeway provide plenty of Scooby-Doo style exposition that anyone not named Richard can’t come close to elevating.

It is, of course, a nostalgic treat to see Dreyfuss at least near troubled waters again, even though you can’t help but wonder why he agreed. The answer comes with the extended message on shark conservation he delivers over the closing credits.

Fair enough. At least no real ones died for this bloody mess.