Tag Archives: George Wolf

Shotgun Wedding

Enola Holmes 3

by George Wolf

The air of Enola Holmes has only gotten fresher since the franchise debut in 2020. While more and more star-studded streamers carry the obvious stench of algorithm engineering, the formula at work in these Netflix installments seems perfectly suited to keeping the attention of home viewers.

First off, EH3 presents a headline-grabbing mystery: Enola’s legendary brother Sherlock (Henry Cavill) has been kidnapped! And the timing couldn’t be worse, as Enola (Millie Bobby Brown) is trying to fight off serious doubts about her upcoming marriage to Lord Earnest Tewkesbury (Louis Partridge).

“Yes, he has a first name,” Enola tells us. “I was surprised, too!”

Brown’s ease with the fourth wall is just one part of her irresistible embodiment of this role. The personal invitation into Enola’s life and adventures is welcome, and Brown gives us a heroine that is endlessly fun to root for as we follow along.

Sherlock’s kidnapping means the dashing-as-always Cavill is more out of sight than last time, allowing Brown the focus she more than deserves. Her Enola wants to get married, yes, but she also wants to keep the name and standing she’s worked hard to attain. Enola is smart, heroic, flirty and romantic, a pretty super girl in her own right.

Director Phillip Baratini and writer Jack Thorne (both from Netflix’s Adolescence) make sure Brown gets the chance to show all those sides of Enola. And while the mystery may play out a tad too conveniently, the visual aesthetic bursts with interactive sleuthing and multimedia pop-ups that are consistently engaging.

The returning support cast (including Helena Bonham Carter, Himesh Patel, and Hattie Morahan) adds to the wonderfully frisky chemistry of the entire ensemble. Part three also allows some nostalgia for how these characters (especially our engaged couple) have grown, giving the film some sweet moments of emotion.

Forget about Sherlock’s kidnapping, Enola Holmes may be solving the mystery of holding a streaming audience without condescension or spoon-feeding. And once again, that’s a formula worth repeating.

Fight the Pain Away

Supergirl

by George Wolf

Look, Kara Zor-El (Milly Alcock) isn’t some goody-goody like her cousin Superman, okay? She’s a hard partying rock chick rockin’ a Blondie t-shirt and a wiseass attitude on her 23rd birthday, so F-you! She’s not about go and join young Ruthye’s (Eve Ridley) quest to avenge her parents’ death at the cold-blooded hands of space villain Krem (Matthias Schoenaerts).

But then Krem shoots Krypto full of a slow-acting poison, and suddenly Kara’s got 72 hours to find Krem, get the antidote, and save her beloved dog from back home.

There’s also a sex trafficking ring to bust up, so add Fury Road to John Wick, Star Wars, Alien, multiple Westerns and various other inspirations you may spot. And while at this point, finding an entirely original stylistic angle for your superhero film may be damn near impossible, this familiarity is one of the things keeping a pretty satisfying adventure from reaching the stratosphere.

Director Craig Gillespie (I, Tonya, Lars and the Real Girl, The Finest Hours) overcomes some occasionally wonky CGI to craft several winning sequences of action, backstory and world building, but often undercuts the growing momentum by bailing out too soon. The surprising dive into the demise of Krypton adds narrative heft, but dropping it between the grimness of The Dark Knight and the giddy excess of Birds of Prey keeps any distinct tone elusive.

Through all of it, Alcock (House of the Dragon) keeps our titular hero wonderfully grounded. Writer Ana Nogueira’s debut screenplay may be filled with familiar themes of grief, destiny, revenge and female rage, but Kara has specific reasons to be wounded. Alcock makes sure we appreciate the character arc that turns Kara’s defense mechanisms into Supergirl’s defense of truth, justice, and…you know.

Alcock finds a way to make us care about the girl, whether hunting down Krem (Schoenaerts is a wonderful, facially-studded psycho), fighting alongside Lobo (Jason Mamoa, gleefully hamming it up) or feeling sweetly big sisterly to the resourceful Ruthye.

And more importantly, Alcock’s scenes with David Corenswet’s Superman cement the film’s biggest win: giving Kara the agency for her hero to stand as more than just a sidekick. This girl’s truth is separate from her famous cousin. Supergirl makes no apologies for making that clear, with an uneven but ultimately effective introduction.

I Can’t Live Without My Radio

Lucky Strike

by George Wolf

The song that plays over the closing credits of Lucky Strike couldn’t be a more appropriate choice. Co-written by Rod Lurie, who also co-wrote and co-directed the movie, the theme is passionate and well meaning. It is also overwrought and heavy handed.

So again, perfect for this film.

By all accounts, Lurie (The Outpost), co-director Todor Kotzev, co-writer Marc Frydman and their fellow producers have gone to great lengths to ensure this film gets the thumbs up from WWII historians. From the jeeps to the artillery, the terrain and beyond, the clear aim of the production was to create an authentic bridge between recorded history and battlefield reality.

And on the note, Lucky Strike hits the mark. An authentic feel for the characters being developed proves a much harder target.

Scott Eastwood takes the lead as Capt. John Castle, who in December 1944 is ordered by his superior (Colin Hanks in a brief cameo) to oversee the blockade of a road in the Ardennes forest often used by German soldiers.

Castle and his team come under heavy fire, eventually leaving John and his invaluable radio “Lassie” – which will become even more valued later on – alone behind enemy lines.

Based on true events from the legendary Battle of the Bulge, the film becomes one man’s journey of commitment and survival, as Castle sets out on the 30km trek to safety in Elsenborn, Belgium.

As correct as all the details may be, the writing and direction never miss the opportunity to overplay a hand. Despite some tense and well orchestrated one-shot action sequences, much of the dialog lacks nuance, the editing and reaction shots continually aim for the back row, a third act twist isn’t hard to see coming, and there’s even the inclusion of an actual pale horse (apparently ridden by subtlety).

Eastwood shoulders a big load but doesn’t show the family gift of understatement, and cannot elevate any of this material. Only the great Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor, as a grieving mother in some touching bookend scenes with Eastwood, can give the film a fleeting layer of humanity.

Lucky Strike needed more of that. There’s plenty to respect here on a technical and historical level, but any true emotional connection is lost in the wilderness.

Fright Club: Parenting Disasters in Horror

There are loads of bad parents in horror. Jack Torrence is no doll. Margaret White’s a bit much. In bad parent horror, we empathize with the offspring. But there’s something perhaps more unsettling when you empathize with the parents who are genuinely trying but something—sometimes just one bad decision—ends in unspeakable disaster. It’s those dumbasses that we salute today!

And thanks again to FeedSpot for including us on their latest list of Best Horror Podcasts! FeedSpot is an RSS Reader that lets you follow your favorite podcasts alongside blogs and news in one place. https://podcast.feedspot.com/midwest_horror_podcasts/

5. Splice (2009)

This creature feature Frankenstein mad science mash up goes places you may not expect. Director Vincenzo Natali (Cube) investigates science as commerce, the maternal instinct or lack thereof, sexual politics, nature and nurture and more in this body horror.

The wtf! of it all works because of the undeniable talent of its leads, Sarah Polley and Adrien Brody. What they’re doing in this is hard to know, but they elevate a B-horror script to something weirdly compelling. Polley’s big eyed, emotionless performance offers a fascinating conundrum that makes every wild turn make sense. Sort of.

4. Antichrist (2009)

Lars von Trier’s foray into horror follows a couple down a deep and dark rabbit hole of grief. Von Trier’s films have often fixated on punishing viewers and female protagonists alike, but in this film the nameless woman (played fearlessly by Charlotte Gainsbourg) wields most of the punishment – whether upon her mate (Willem Dafoe) or herself.

Consumed by grief, a mother allows her husband—also grieving—to become her psychotherapist as they retreat to their isolated cabin deep in the woods where they will try to overcome the horror of losing their only child.

They won’t succeed.

3. Speak No Evil (2022)

Christian Tafdrup’s Speak No Evil, a terribly polite tale of Danes and Dutchmen that veers slowly but relentlessly toward something sinister. Speak No Evil quickly becomes a sociological experiment that questions our tendency to act against our own instincts, side with the cool kids, and lose who we are.

Tafdrup’s script, co-written with Mads Tafdrup, is sneaky in the way it treads on social anxiety, etiquette, politeness. You see how easily gaslighting alters the trajectory of a conversation, the course of action. Speak No Evil is a grim trip, but there is no question that it’s well made.

2. Mother! (2017)

Between writer/director Darren Aronofsky’s disorienting camera and his cast’s impeccable performances, he ratchets up tension in a way that is beyond uncomfortable. This is all clearly leading somewhere very wrong and the film develops the atmosphere of a nightmare quickly, descending further and further with each scene.

Jennifer Lawrence, Javier Bardem, Ed Harris and Michelle Pfieffer are indescribably brilliant. Like most of the filmmaker’s work, mother! will not be for everyone. But if you’re up for an allegorical descent into hell, meticulously crafted and deftly told, and if you like your metaphors heavy and your climaxes absurd, this mother! is for you.

1. Coffee Table (2022)

On Shudder, Prime, Tubi, AMC+

A remarkably well written script fleshed out by a stunning ensemble becomes utter torture as you want so badly for some other outcome. Co-writer/director Caye Casas ties threads, builds anxiety, plunges the depths of “what’s the worst that could happen?” and leaves you shaken.

David Pareja and Estefania de los Santos craft indelible, believable, beautifully flawed characters so convincing that their experience becomes painful for you. Casas salts the wounds with dark comedy, but the tenderness and tragedy collaborate toward something far more crushingly human.

Mighty Mighty Joy

Earth, Wind & Fire: To Be Celestial vs. That’s the Weight of the World

by George Wolf

Don’t worry, Ahmir “Questlove” Thompson doesn’t let the surviving members of Earth, Wind & Fire sidestep the tough questions.

What is the meaning of “ba-dee-ya,” anyway?

But well before Thompson gets to that, his HBO streamer Earth, Wind & Fire: To Be Celestial vs. That’s the Weight of the World becomes an exhilarating celebration of a band making music so joyful it’s described as “Jesus-less gospel.”

Through archival footage, performance clips, family mementos and interviews new and old, we see the band’s visionary founder Maurice White persevere through early struggles to embrace a unique sound that propelled EWF’s journey as 70s superstars, 80s has-beens and eventual worldwide icons.

Director Thompson, already an Oscar winner for the triumphant Summer of Soul, again shows impeccable instincts for presenting a music doc that transcends any Behind the Music formula. Of course, being an accomplished music himself can’t hurt, and Thompson’s effervescent approach lets the stories and songs find a seamless blend of style and meaning.

And somehow, the film manages to smooth over the massive absence of White, who passed away in 2016 from Parkinson’s disease. Heartfelt remembrances from band members, family, partners, friends and admirers (including Stevie Wonder, Lionel Richie, and Barack and Michelle Obama) paint an effective portrait of a gifted but complex artist who rose above childhood trauma for professional success full of singalong affirmations that often masked a personal struggle.

Those who may not know much about White will get schooled plenty, and even longtime fans like myself (hey, my birthday just happens to be the 21st night of September) may find a few surprises here (like why Philip Bailey would apologize for his classic slow jam “Reasons”). What everyone will find with Earth, Wind & Fire is two solid hours of EWF magic, and an inescapable joy both celestial and weighty.

Screening Room: Masters of the Universe, Power Ballad, Office Romance & More

On this week’s Screening Room podcast, Hope & George review Masters of the Universe, Power Ballad, Carolina Caroline, Office Romance, Scary Movie, Strange Journey: The Story of Rocky Horror, Chum, and Seven Snipers!

You Play Lizzy?

Power Ballad

by George Wolf

Give it up for “Ireland’s grooviest wedding band…Bride and Groove!”

Back in the day, Rick Power (Paul Rudd) had an American rock band, a record deal and big dreams that never panned out. But after settling in the Emerald Isle with his Irish wife Rachel (Marcella Plunkett) and daughter Aja (Beth Fallon), Rick scratches his musical itch by playing other people’s classic hits and trying not to be too cliched about his glory days.

Power Ballad is yet another tune-centric winner from writer/director/composer John Carney. And much like Once, Sing Street, Begin Again and Flora and Son, his latest is a crowd-pleasing ode to authentic music, heartfelt inspiration and the twists of fate that change the course of our lives.

When Rick and his band play a high end wedding at a sprawling Irish castle, he meets friend-of-the-bride Danny Wilson (Nick Jonas), a former boy band star trying to transition into legit solo act. Danny sits in for a song, he and Rick hit it off and they end up drinking and jamming the night away in Danny’s lavish suite.

Fast forward a few months, and Danny’s first big solo hit is just a polished version of a song that Rick wrote years ago and played for Danny that very night.

Surely Rick can just call the number Danny left him with and settle this, right? He seemed like a great guy!

Well, he can only get through to Danny’s label head (Jack Reynor), who tells Rick that unless he has proof of his claim, buzz off or they’ll sue him into oblivion.

The endlessly endearing Rudd (who sings surprisingly well) shares a nice chemistry with Jonas, and Carney pumps the soundtrack full of both classics and some new originals that actually sound like pop hits. Carney also tosses in a couple wink-wink callbacks to Once and some outright hijinx, but the film’s greatest hits come from the warm humanity in the deep tracks.

Rick can feel his family and his band doubting his claim, and as Danny’s song becomes a global anthem requested at weddings (uh-oh!), Carney finds ways to probe the characters that are easily digestible.

Does Rick want the fame and riches that would come from a writing credit, or does he want to feel like he did when he was young and full of confident ambition?

And if that younger Rick had hit it big with his first band, would he really have had a better life?

Since the achingly beautiful Once, Carney has often relied on contrivances that work well in service of the feel good meter. Power Ballad follows that familiar rhyme scheme, but strikes an irresistible medley of joy, sacrifice and reward that feels like a bangin’ summer playlist.

Bloody Mess

Chum

by George Wolf

After Chum‘s third or fourth continuity error with Alice Eve’s sandals, you start to wonder why they didn’t just fix that with AI, too. We get AI sharks, and AI victims, so at that point some AI bare feet are hardly going to register.

This is just a terrible movie, so bad you can’t help but imagine what kind of bet Eve must have lost to sign on.

She plays Tina, who gets hitched to Tom (Eric Michael Cole) at a destination wedding in the Mediterranean. Neither bride nor groom is happy on the big day, and only reluctantly agree to join some family and friends (Elle Haymond, Lisa Yaro, Sarah Siadet, Johnny Gaffney) on a daytime yacht excursion.

But after a fire onboard, the gang is rescued by a passing seafaring psycho (Jim Klock), and soon find themselves fighting against being dangled as bait for a predatory Great White.

I know you’re thinking Dangerous Animals right now, but this mess from director/co-writer Jonathan Zuck leans more Jaws: The Revenge – in both story and stupidity.

The premise is laughable, the characters and dialog inane, the wooden support cast make Eve look like Streep, and the eye rolling moments – from battle cries spoiling sneak attacks to Eve’s disappearing/reappearing shoe – come early and often.

And honestly, it’s just depressing to know this is where we’re headed. At least the recent Deep Water didn’t go further than CGI sharks – and even that muted the tension considerably. But after Zuck teases us with a few looks at real man-eaters, he lets loose a succession of attacks that more than justify the branding of “AI slop.”

I know it’s too expensive to shred on the natch (thank you, Doonesbury) with mechanical sharks these days, but if this is what it’s come to, just go over-the-top absurdist and call it a day.

Intentional comedy always has at least a chance of being funny. Chum can’t muster much more than sympathy – for Eve and the audience.