Tag Archives: Madd at the Movies

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Rich People Problems

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Where’d You Go, Bernadette

by Hope Madden

Low-key visionary director Richard Linklater, inexhaustible talent Cate Blanchett and wildly popular source material exploring creativity, motherhood and existential angst—Where’d You Go, Bernadette could work.

The title suggests two things. Metaphorically, it refers to a disappeared genius. Bernadette Fox ceased to exist when she abandoned her architectural artistry for parenthood and, as far as the creative world knew, vanished.

In a less metaphorical manner, the title refers to the actual mystery driving the plot of Maria Semple’s novel—the story of a teenager using emails, news clippings and notes to try to piece together the whereabouts of her now-literally-missing mother.

That mystery is mainly gone from Linklater’s film adaptation, as Bernadette (the ever-exquisite Blanchett) doesn’t up and vanish until well after the 90-minute mark, and because the audience knows where she is all the while.

Instead, Linklater focuses on why she left in the first place. Because, what could have been an ideal situation for another woman—wealthy husband (Billy Crudup) and his super-attentive administrative assistant, precocious and adoring daughter (Emma Nelson), nice neighborhood (even if the neighbors hate her), good schools, money to burn on virtual personal assistants (who turn out to be Russian identity thieves)—welp, it just doesn’t seem to be enough for Bernadette.

There’s a lot to like about Where’d You Go, Bernadette, including a game cast and some gorgeous footage. Unfortunately, under all that is yet another fantasy about a rich white woman who needs to find herself.

In its worst moments, the film falls back on catty mean girlisms, as if the greatest nightmare a woman could face would be for the withering cliquishness of high school to survive into adulthood, the popular moms making you feel like an outcast all over again.

The filmmaker hits his stride, unsurprisingly, when pairing Blanchett with, well, basically anybody. Her one-on-one moments with Nelson, Kristin Wiig (as prissy neighbor Audrey), Laurence Fishburne (playing a former colleague) and Crudup (neutered as his character is) almost make up for the blandly directionless narrative.

Linklater can do comedy (School of Rock!!). He can certainly dive into motherhood (Boyhood). Nobody’d argue his insight and artistry when it comes to documenting a romantic relationship with its ups and downs (Sunset series). Frustratingly, with this film he simply cannot seem to decide which direction to take.

Comedic moments are abandoned before they land, emotional messiness is tidied into submission, dramatic moments are undercut before they can generate any tension.

The resulting, meandering tale doesn’t go much of anywhere.

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Queen Bee

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Honeyland

by Hope Madden

Cinematic in structure, narrative in its storytelling, all of it expressed with a visual flair that give it the sense of poetry—Honeyland is no ordinary documentary.

Filmmakers Tamara Kotevska and Ljubomir Stefanov offer a master class in fly-on-the-wall documenting with their patient, beautiful story of a lone beekeeper. Or is Honeyland actually an analogy for the human race and our relationship with this planet?

It’s both.

The Sundance winner offers no exposition, no context, no question and answer. Content to simply observe, Honeyland follows Hatidze Muratova, a Macedonian beekeeper. Loving long shots establish both the rugged terrain and the isolation of Hatidze’s days as she begins the yearly cycle of transporting a hive, caring for it and reaping the benefits of that patient, diligent work.

The filmmakers’ respect for Hatidze drives the doc, which never labels or trivializes its subject, never patronizes.

The solitude and the quiet of Hatidze’s days spent with bees and evenings with her bedridden mother soon make way for chaos and cacophony, as Hatidze’s lonesome dot of Macedonian land makes room for Hussein Sam and his nomadic family.

Kotevska and Ljubomir abandon the long shot in favor of mid-range filming and close ups crowded with jumping children, bickering siblings, chickens and cattle. The campers, the kids, the lifestock, the noise—all of it caught with affection and trepidation by both the filmmakers’ camera and Hatidze’s smiling eye.

Somewhere on the edge of this rush of sound creeps Hatidze, curious and cautious but smiling. Little by little she and this family form a community. She even becomes something of a mentor in the beekeeping tradition to one of the young sons, forming a sweet and eventually heartbreaking relationship.

Heartbreaking because rush and need, ambition and impatience all combine with selfish interests to convince the Sam family that beekeeping is also for them. Shortcuts lead to a natural imbalance and soon Hatidze faces the crisis left behind when the natural environment is used for profit rather than nurtured for balance.

Beautifully filmed with natural light to create a sort of visual lyricism, Honeyland becomes an allegory for our times. It’s hard not to be invested in Hatidze’s story, in her bees, as if our own future depends on them.

The Screening Room

Screening Room: Dora, Scary Stories, The Kitchen, Them that Follow, Brian Banks, Maiden

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Whew! That’s a lot of movies! Some good, some bad, some really good…Well, maybe just listen to the podcast.

Dora and the Lost City of Gold, Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark, The Kitchen, Them That Follow, Brian Banks, Maiden

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These Boots Are Made for Exploring

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Dora and the Lost City of Gold

by Hope Madden

Dora the Explorer takes her backpack, her map and her adventures to the big screen. Can you say surprisingly entertaining?

It helps that director James Bobin (The Muppets, Flight of the Conchords) has mastered the art of cheeky-yet-wholesome fun. Our story begins in the jungle where 6-year-old Dora (Madelyn Miranda) and cousin Diego (Malachi Barton) seek adventure under the somewhat watchful eyes of Dora’s parents (Eva Longoria and Michael Pena).

But Diego is off to the big city with his parents and, about ten years later, Dora goes to stay with him while her parents seek the famed Lost City of Gold.

She may be 16, but Dora (Isabela Moner) hasn’t changed, which means the nightmare of high school is about to get worse for Diego (Jeff Wahlberg – yes, he’s a nephew).

And though the bulk of the plot deals with a kidnapping, a jungle adventure to find Dora’s parents, and an Indiana Jonesesque trek into a lost city, the heart of the film is with outsiders and outcasts facing high school.

Moner is an impressive talent, a point she’s proven with roles in Sicario 2 and Instant Family. She plays bright-eyed Dora with utter earnestness, allowing Bobin and a game cast to land plenty of jokes, none of them cynical or unkind.

This is definitely a family-friendly film, but you don’t have to be a preschooler to find enjoyment. Bobin’s good-natured humor winks at parents, the move to high school will endear the film to ‘tweens, but the high spirit and affection for the source material won’t be lost on little ones.

Is it a classic? It is not. And if you were one of the many middle aged men sitting alone in the theater yesterday, for shame. But Dora and the Lost City of Gold is a charmer and not a bad way to spend some time with the family.

So remember, high school is a horrible nightmare. Be yourself. And no swiping!

New In Theaters

Sail On Sailor

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Maiden

by Hope Madden

“The ocean’s always trying to kill you. It doesn’t take a break.”

So says Tracy Edwards, and she should know. At 24 years of age in 1989, fresh off a stint as cook on a charter boat, Edwards skippered the Maiden with the first all-female crew to enter England’s Whitbread Round the World Race.

Thirty years later, documentarian Alex Holmes revisits this historic event with clarity and candor.

It’s certainly no surprise that the odds were stacked against Edwards, although it is fascinating to look back at just how these sailors were treated by other yachtsmen as well as the media.

According to Jen Mundy, Edwards’s girlhood friend and member of her crew, those set to sail Maiden were told: “You’re not strong enough. You’re not skilled enough. Girls don’t get on. You’ll die.”

Girls don’t get on?

Yes, even as the Eighties came to a close there were enough commonly believed stereotypes about women’s inabilities and bitchy tendencies to sink a yacht. And Holmes is not ready to let those spouting such idiocy off the hook. He interviews a number of journalists, each of whom admit to being convinced the Maiden has no shot at completing the race. The Guardian’s Bob Fisher went so far as to refer to the crew as “a tinful of tarts.”

He actually defends that headline in the documentary.

It’s impossible not to notice that the word “woman” is used maybe twice in the entire film, every participant, even Edwards herself, preferring the term “girls.”

Vocabulary aside, Holmes finds an interesting arc for a sports doc. As the race begins, simply finishing the first leg was cause for patronizing celebration: a bunch of girls didn’t die. Hooray!

But Edwards and crew were, like everyone else in the race in 1989, competitors invested in the competition, focused on winning and only on winning. Unlike their competition, the crew of the Maiden seemed genuinely, even wildly unaware of the profundity of simply participating.

The spirit of female defiance, that’s the flag the Maiden flew at journey’s end. After proving their ability – after besting their competition repeatedly —that celebration lost its patronizing taint.

Scene after windy, wet, terrifying scene—the nautical thrills crisply underscored by Rob Manning and Samuel Sim’s score—skipper and crew of the Maiden strategize, tough it out, and risk a watery grave. And why?

Mainly because one malcontent—Edwards, who’d been suspended 26 times before she was finally expelled from school at 15—wanted to do it and was told she couldn’t.

“What do you mean I can’t? That’s just idiotic.”

Indeed.

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F*ck Y’all, We’re From Dayton

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Brainiac: Transmissions After Zero

by Hope Madden

It’s been an ugly few days, and while we reel from our country’s 251st mass shooting, this one painfully close to home, it’s a good time to remember that Dayton, Ohio is an amazing town teeming with fascinating, resilient people.

Eric Mahoney knows that, which explains why he returned to his hometown for this second documentary, this one on the Nineties indie punk force Brainiac.

The adjective used most frequently in Mahoney’s rock doc Brainiac: Transmissions After Zero is “weird.”

Fitting, really, for a film that dives into the brief and electric career of Dayton’s pride and one of the most innovative and surprisingly influential indie bands on the young scene.

Haven’t heard of them? Now’s your opportunity.

Don’t just take it from Mahoney. Take it from Hole’s Melissa Auf der Maur, The Mars Volta’s Cedric Bixler-Zavala, The National’s Matt Berninger, Fred Armisan and tons of others who still mourn the loss of this genuine and unique and weird presence in music.

Filmed 20 years after the freak accident that took the life of the band’s songwriter and main creative force, Tim Taylor, Transmissions After Zero makes itself comfortable with those who knew him best: his mom, his sister, his band.

Mahoney’s timestamp of a picture offers a refreshing break from the Behind the Music style of so many rock docs—partly because Brainiac’s trajectory ended days before signing with a major label.

What results is a candid look at what happens to the rest of the band, dealing not just with grief but also with the abrupt end of their forward progress, the end of their dream.

The film, in the end, is less about Tim Taylor himself and more about the band. Taylor’s presence is never far from mind, but at the same time, Mahoney and his subjects never manage to truly articulate that presence. Perhaps it’s a lack of interview footage, but the absence is felt—which partly frustrates but also fuels the doc’s overall sensibility of loss.

Without Taylor, Mahoney relies on bandmates Juan Monastrio, Michelle Bodine, Tyler Trent and John Schmersal to keep things lively. Their candor, wit and weirdness compel attention and empathy. Their openness with Mahoney is touching and often very funny.

Mahoney offers mainly talking head footage with brief snippets of the band onstage and some low-key but inspired animated sequences. He exhibits a little electro punk flourish himself as he pieces together the elements, but his style never upstages the content.

Instead, he lets the music and the musicians tell their own story. Like a lot of rock docs, Transmissions After Zero introduces or reintroduces a group of voices that should not have been lost. And in this case, it also reminds us how great Dayton and its people really are.

For Your Queue

I Don’t Want to Go Out—Week of August 5

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A couple of the best films of 2019 are ready for you to take them home. Do not miss Amazing Grace, an unmissable music documentary that captures Aretha Franklin at the apex of her skills, and the introspective indie gem The Souvenir.

Click the film title to link to the full review.

Amazing Grace

The Souvenir

Pokemon Detective Pikachu

Tolkien

The Curse of La Llorona

Poms

The Screening Room

Screening Room: Hobbs & Shaw, The Farewell, Luz, Sword of Trust, Mission Mona Lisa

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A bunch of movies to cover this week in The Screening Room, including Fast & Furious Presents: Hobbs & Shaw, The Farewell, Luz, Sword of Trust, Leo Da Vinci: Mission Mona Lisa as well as a whole slew of new movies available to watch at home.

Listen to the full podcast HERE.

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Bald & Bickering

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Fast & Furious Presents: Hobbs & Shaw

by Hope Madden

Somewhere around its 6th installment, the Fast & Furious franchise tweaked its direction, abandoning logic and embracing ludicrous action as it jumped cars from skyscraper to skyscraper and waterskied off the back of launched torpedoes.

But things took off for real around Episode 7 when some mad genius decided to pit mountainous government operative Hobbs (Dwayne Johnson) against Limey nogoodnik Deckard Shaw (Jason Statham), each of them playing a self-lampooning version of themselves. Fun!

Where to go from there? How about we drop that whole car heist and espionage thing, expel Vincent Toretto and gang, bring in Idris Elba and see what happens?

And for the very first time, I was kind of looking forward to a F&F film.

Fast & Furious Presents: Hobbs & Shaw boasts more than ampersands. Internal logic? Cohesive plot? Thoughtful insights on man’s inhumanity to man?

Why, no.

Cheeky fun? Indeed!

The film indulges in the best elements of F&F (action lunacy, self-aware comedy) and dispenses with its weaknesses (schmaltz, Diesel). F&F: H&S consists primarily of fistfights, gun fights and vehicular chicanery stitched together with comic lines. Unfortunately, there is a plot, but it doesn’t get in the way too much.

A virus meant to thin the herd falls (or is injected!) into the hands of a rogue
(or is she?!!) MI6 agent. The CIA (or is it?!!!) pulls together the two old enemies for no particular reason, but Ryan Reynolds shows up in a decidedly peculiar cameo (one of several to look out for) that draws your attention away from the first of many gaping plot holes.

By this point (about 7 minutes into the film) we’ve been through three separate fight sequences, each meant to articulate the character of one of our leads: down-and-dirty badass (Hobbs), smoothly lethal sophisticate (Shaw), smart and efficient and highly contagious (Vanessa Kirby as MI6 virus thief Hattie), and Black Superman (Idris Elba, who gives himself the name, but if it fits…).

Right. Enough with plot, on to stupifyingly illogical and imaginative action. Hobbs & Shaw offers quite a spectacle.

It bogs down when it gets away from the explosions, wheelies and punches. Whether devoting excessive time to pissing contests or to dysfunctional family backstories, director David Leitch—who proved his action mettle with Atomic Blonde—too often forgets that words are not this franchise’s strongest suit.

Still, there is something compelling about watching Black Superman V Samoan Thor. I don’t know that there’s enough here for a franchise springboard, but there’s plenty for a wasted afternoon.