Tag Archives: movie reviews

Mission Impossible

The Mission

by Christie Robb

Tania Anderson’s documentary The Mission details the lives of four very young adults as they embark on two-year missions to try to spread the word of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints to the population of Finland. Finland—a country in northern Europe with a high per-capita income, one of the best educational systems in the world, an extensive social safety net, and one that has ranked number one in every annual report of World Happiness since 2018. Not the kind of place where people are likely to be shopping for a new religious modality.

Barely out of childhood, the two American men and women spend a few weeks in a kind of missionary boot camp in Utah before being thrown into a new country, expected to converse with the locals despite only knowing a few stock phrases (and often stumbling over those) and ultimately convince them to convert. Their lives are regimented. Expected to rise at 6:30 AM each day and begin work, they are assigned a companion—a stranger—who spends all “non-hygiene-related time” with them for nine weeks before the companion is replaced with another. They are only allowed contact with family and friends once per week. And they have to pay for the privilege of doing this. The Church does not subsidize its missionaries.

Anderson emphasizes the loneliness. She lingers on the barren, spare quarters in which the subjects live. She uses long establishing shots of the landscape to show how small they are in this new country. She lingers on conversations that strain the viewer’s ability to handle social awkwardness.

In contrast to the aims of its subjects, the documentary itself is not preachy. It covers enough successful conversions and strengthening of faith to balance out the coverage of those dealing with doubt and existential despair. However, this balance is delivered at the surface level. We don’t really get to know any of the four subjects and what motivates them in any profound way. Their reasons for taking on this task, the logistics of the financial commitments, the cultural differences between Americans and Finns, and the missionaries’ personal struggles are only hinted at or covered at the depth one might expect while making small talk at a church bake sale.

The mission takes place between 2019 and 2021 and, unbelievably, it does not consider COVID-19 and the impact it had on a socially-focused pursuit, at all.  Nothing about the fears these folks had at being stuck in a foreign country when the borders started closing. Nothing about how they reacted when millions of mink that had been culled from fur farms in nearby Denmark started to rise from the grave. There are some shots toward the end where the missionaries are wearing masks, but aside from that, the pandemic is completely erased from existence, much in the same way that you are likely to forget this entirely adequate documentary after you have watched it.

Or Don’t

Maybe I Do

by Hope Madden

Writer/director Michael Jacobs is best known for producing TV shows that speak to teens: My Two Dads, Boy Meets World, and Girl Meets World. But just seconds after what feels like the longest pre-film credits in the history of cinema, his feature film Maybe I Do makes certain we know this is not that.

The romantic dramedy enlists four truly great veteran talents to take a peek at romance, love, and existential angst in your sixties.

Grace (Diane Keaton, who executive produces) can’t help but notice Sam (William H. Macy), who’s sobbing at a foreign film as he dumps M&Ms into his popcorn tub. She reaches out to him because he “seems distressed.” He assumes that, as she is also alone at a movie, she, too, is distressed.

She admits she is, but honestly, there’s nothing wrong with going alone to the movies. I’m saying that, not Diane.

Anyway, they bond. Meanwhile, Richard Gere and Susan Sarandon quietly out-hot each other. And across town, young Michelle (Emma Roberts) questions an uncertain future with Allen (Luke Bracey).

So, the film offers three different vignettes of couples talking, arguing, and ruminating about love until worlds collide in the most obvious and contrived way possible. The sheer volume of cliches at work here could drown out almost anything of value, but how do you dismiss a film starring Macy, Keaton, Sarandon and Gere? Even the tritest dollops of wisdom sound charming and/or wizened coming from one of these four.

Gere and Macy together are a particularly tender treat, and while I applaud the actors and the opportunity the film allows, this scene best articulates the movie’s most nagging weakness. The whole film is sad for successful men who are dissatisfied with how their lives turned out. No one on earth is less pitiable than a successful middle-aged white man and his angst over what he hasn’t accomplished. But Gere and Macy almost make it work.

The second biggest problem is that the film hits traditional romance so hard. The act that has Michelle rethinking her relationship with Allen should be a red flag, an end to the relationship. Instead, it becomes a “marry me or it’s over” ultimatum. No. No! And then the whole film, one brimming with wildly unhappy marrieds, intends to prove to us all that you just have to go ahead and take the leap with someone who publically humiliated you to make sure they didn’t have to commit to you.

No.

Maybe I Do is unabashedly romantic, deeply traditional, well-meaning and tired. So tired. But at least you get to see four tremendous actors riff off each other for 90 minutes.

She Said/She Said

Women Talking

by Hope Madden

“Maybe sometimes people confuse forgiveness with permission.”

With nuanced writing and what may be 2022’s finest ensemble, Women Talking, the latest from filmmaker Sarah Polley, delivers quiet, necessary insight.

Polley invites us to witness a secret gathering of women. A select group from an isolated religious community has been chosen to make a decision for the entire sisterhood: do nothing, stay and fight, or leave.

For as long as any of them can remember, the women of the flock have been sexually preyed upon and told that they were wrong – they were lying, imagining it, or in league with demons. And they believed this, more or less, until one attacker was caught in the act. Now, while the men are in town bargaining for the release of the attackers, the women must come to a consensus about what to do next.

Think of it as 12 Angry Men, only not all of them are angry and not one of them is a man.

The entire cast is miraculous. Rooney Mara delivers an unusually gentle performance, while Frances McDormand (who also produces) leaves a heavy weight with her few moments onscreen.

Jessie Buckley and Claire Foy are both on fire, one angry at everyone, the second angry enough at the men for everyone. The way Polley, who adapts Miriam Toews novel with Toews, unveils each individual’s motivations is remarkable. Her camera and script linger over moments of compassion and consideration. Women Talking dwells here, as if to point out that these women will offer each other everything the men they know would not.

Polley shows respect for these women – not just for their bodies, their agency, their humanity. She shows uncommon respect for their faith. This is what every faith-based film should look like.

Though dialog-heavy (as you might expect, given the title), the film never feels stagnant. A languid camera emphasizes the lovely tranquility of the community when the men are absent, but Polley generates palpable tension as time ticks away and the women’s opportunity to make a decision draws to a close.

Women Talking is a quietly stunning achievement and a reminder of the power of dialog and respect.

2023 Oscar Nominations…We Have Thoughts

Well, they’re here, and the 2023 Oscar nominations are a reminder that we actually had some hits this year. Blockbusters are all over this lineup, as are indies, returning favorites, first-time veterans, newcomers, surprises and – say it with us – snubs.

Here are our thoughts on this year’s Academy Award nominations:

Best Film

Sure, people will cheer and/or complain about the love of Avatar: The Way of Water and Top Gun: Maverick. Purists will point out that many, many smaller films boasted better acting and writing (Aftersun? The Woman King? Nope?), while others will be happy that, for once, they’ve seen a Best Picture nominee. Our issue is with Triangle of Sadness, which has too many nominations altogether. For our money, The Menu’s nuance succeeded where the obviousness of Triangle failed, and it did it in half the time.

Nominees:

All Quiet on the Western Front

Avatar: The Way of Water

The Banshees of Inisherin

Elvis

Everything Everywhere All at Once

The Fabelmans

Tár

Top Gun: Maverick

Triangle of Sadness

Women Talking

Best Director

Östlund took a spot that could have more deservedly gone to Sarah Polley (Women Talking) or the criminally unappreciated Park Chan-Wook, whose sublime Decision to Leave was entirely ignored.

Nominees:

Martin McDonagh, The Banshees of Inisherin

Daniel Kwan and Daniel Schenhert, Everything Everywhere All at Once

Steven Spielberg, The Fabelmans

Todd Field, Tár

Ruben Östlund, Triangle of Sadness

Best Lead Actress

Where is Danielle Deadwyler? Easily the biggest snub of the day, Deadwyler deserves to be on this list forher turn in Till without question. And while de Armas was the one saving grace in the 3+ hour dumpster fire that was Blonde, Oscar-worthy she was not.

We’re happy to see the surprise nomination for Riseborough, but we do also miss Emma Thompson for Good Luck to You, Leo Grande, and Viola Davis for The Woman King.

Nominees:

Cate Blanchett, Tár

Ana de Armas, Blonde

Andrea Riseborough, To Leslie

Michelle Williams, The Fabelmans

Michelle Yeoh, Everything Everywhere All at Once

Best Lead Actor

This card looked about as expected, but we couldn’t be more thrilled that Paul Mescal is being recognized for his beautiful turn in Aftersun.

Nominees:

Austin Butler, Elvis

Colin Farrell, The Banshees of Inisherin

Brendan Fraser, The Whale

Paul Mescal, Aftersun

Bill Nighy, Living

Best Supporting Actor

Brian Tyree Henry?! Yes, please! One of the biggest surprises this year is also one of the most welcome. Thrilled as well to see Keogan join Gleeson and, like everyone else, overjoyed that the undeniable Ke Huy Quan will be at the Oscars – even if he doesn’t win, although things are looking good for him.

Nominees:

Brendan Gleeson, The Banshees of Inisherin

Brian Tyree Henry, Causeway

Judd Hirsch, The Fabelmans

Barry Keogan, The Banshees of Inisherin

Ke Huy Quan, Everything Everywhere All at Once

Best Supporting Actress

We would have loved to see literally anyone from Women Talking get acknowledged here, but honestly, we don’t have a lot of nits to pick. Exceedingly happy for every single person who made this list.

Nominees:

Angela Bassett, Black Panther: Wakanda Forever

Hong Chau, The Whale

Kerry Condon, The Banshees of Inisherin

Jamie Lee Curtis, Everything Everywhere All at Once

Stephanie Hsu, Everything Everywhere All at Once

Best Original Screenplay

Oh how we hoped we’d see Nope on this list. Jordan Peele’s genre-bending treasure deserves the Triangle of Sadness spot, and if not him, Charlotte Wells for Aftersun.

Frontrunners have to be Banshees and EEAAO, but honestly, that seems to be the case in almost every single race.

Nominees:

The Banshees of Inisherin

Everything Everywhere All at Once

The Fabelmans

Tár

Triangle of Sadness

Best Adapted Screenplay

All Quiet on the Western Front earned a lot of nominations. It’s clearly frontrunner for Best International Picture, and a worthy screenplay for this ticket. We’d love to see it go to Women Talking, most deserving of all the nominees. But where is Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio? It’s a far superior adaptation in narrative and vision than Glass Onion or Top Gun: Maverick.

Nominees:

All Quiet on the Western Front

Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery

Living

Top Gun: Maverick

Women Talking

Best Animated Feature

Very quietly, 2022 was the best year for animated features in decades. Every last film on this list deserves an Oscar. So happy to see Puss In Boots and The Sea Beast make the list. Marcel the Shell was maybe the most charming film of 2022. Pixar released what may have been the most personal, accessible and needed film of its catalog with Turning Red. But del Toro out del Toroed himself with one of the best films, animated or not, of the year.

Nominees:

Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio

Marcel the Shell with Shoes On

Puss In Boots: The Last Wish

The Sea Beast

Turning Red

Best International Film

Where is Decision to Leave? Because it shouldn’t just have been nominated, it should have won. Not to take anything away from these films, each of which is truly wonderful. (Smart money’s on All Quiet on the Western Front in what is the surest lock of the show.)

Nominees:

All Quiet on the Western Front

Argentina,1985

Close

EO

The Quiet Girl

Best Documentary

We saw a lot of documentaries in 2022, none of which was a brilliant and moving use of the medium as Moonage Daydream. How it managed to go unsung by the Academy is a crime.

Nominees:

All That Breathes

All the Beauty and the Bloodshed

Fire of Love

A House Made of Splinters

Nevalny

Best Cinematography

Good choices, and nice that Bardo is getting a deserved nod here.

Nominees:

All Quiet on the Western Front

Bardo, False Chronicles of a Handful of Truths

Elvis

Empire of Light

Tár

Best Score

Sad to see no nods for GdT’s Pinocchio or Nope.

Nominees:

All Quiet on the Western Front

Babylon

The Banshees of Inisherin

Everything Everywhere All at Once

The Fabelmans

Best Song

We admit it, we were rooting for “Good Afternoon” from Spirited. And we thought TSwift had a shot with “Carolina” from Where the Crawdads Sing. But nominating RRR’s “Natu Natu” makes up for everything.

Nominees

“Applause” from Tell It Like a Woman

“Hold My Hand” from Top Gun: Maverick

“Lift Me Up” from Black Panther: Wakanda Forever

“Naatu Naatu” from RRR

“This Is a Life” from Everything Everywhere All at Once

The 95th annual Academy Awards will air on Sunday, March 12 on ABC.

Screening Room: Missing, The Son, Alice Darling & More

Far from the Tree

The Son

by Hope Madden

Two years ago, Florian Zeller reimagined how film could represent perspective, turning his play The Father into a devastating meditation on helplessness, loss and love. Once again Zeller works with Christopher Hampton, this time to adapt the third in his trilogy of stage plays to examine family conflict, The Son.

Hugh Jackman stars as Peter, a dashing and successful lawyer with a lovely young wife (Vanessa Kirby) and a cherubic infant son. He also has a harried ex-wife named Kate (Laura Dern) and a teenage son named Nicholas (Zen McGrath), both of whom feel abandoned by him.

We meet Kate at Peter’s high-high-end doorway. He’s clearly not thrilled to see her – “You can’t just show up here unannounced like this!” – but she’s at her wit’s end. There’s something wrong with Nicholas.

Well, here’s Peter to the rescue. And in the ensuing two hours we learn that, even though appearances suggest that ol’ Pete has it all under control, he does not. No one does.

The dynamic between Kirby and McGrath becomes the most intriguing pairing as neither character is positioned to be fully villain or hero. Both are at odds – with each other, with Peter, with Kate – and yet both make genuine, if thwarted, attempts to bond.

As is her way, Kirby digs to find richness and complexity in a character with limited screen time. Dern is likewise excellent – as is her way. But the film lives and dies with Jackman and McGrath.

Zeller and Hampton’s script does McGrath no favors and he struggles mightily to find a balance between whining entitlement and genuine suffering.

Jackman’s a little bit by the numbers here. Zeller allows the clean, slick surfaces of his home and office and his elegant, never-mussed wardrobe to speak more loudly than they should, stifling a nuanced characterization. Jackman tries, and moments where Peter’s vanity seeps through his “perfect father” demeanor are welcome. But Zeller’s direction is obvious, and the writing wallows more than it enlightens.

Where The Father was a transcendent experience that dared to ask viewers to see as a man with Alzheimer’s sees, The Son takes no such daring leap. Its insights are stale, its twists manipulative. The film delivers a classy melodrama, but nothing more.

That New God Smell

New Gods: Yang Jian

by Daniel Baldwin

Much like its 2021 counterpart, New Gods: Nezha Reborn, this latest film from director Zhao Ji offers up a brand new take on another portion of Chinese mythology. In New Gods: Yang Jian, we follow god Yang Jian, who after the war of the heavens has been forced to take up a job as a bounty hunter scouring both the immortal and mortal realms for quarry. After all, one has to pay for (cosmic) gas and food somehow. Whoever said gods couldn’t be relatable?

Armed with fighting abilities, his wits, and a harmonica, Yang Jian sets out on an epic quest in a world that pulls as much from steampunk and western tropes as it does swashbuckling fantasy. Add in a host of spirits, demons, creatures, and other gods and you’ve got yourself a compelling concoction. The animation brings it all to life, stunningly created with CGI; standing toe-to-toe with everything that the animation studios of Disney, Sony, and DreamWorks conjure up, year in and out.

Beneath its numerous fantastical elements lies a generational tale of family, love loss, grief, and regret. Yang Jian carries a heavy burden in his mind and heart over the loss of his sister (as well as the events that led to it). These feelings are only further complicated when his quest brings him face to face with her now-grown son, whom he had promised to protect, but ultimately abandoned to the care of others. They’ll have to set aside their differences and work together to stave off magical disaster, neither of which will be any small feat. If that sounds tropey, it is! But that’s not a bad thing for stories of this nature. The fun of them is in the journey itself, not in guessable destinations.

New Gods: Yang Jian might not be bursting with narrative originality, but what it lacks on that front, it makes up for in gorgeous visuals, fun characters, and exciting fantasy-action setpieces. If you want something that can offer up the heart of family adventure animation and the derring-do of superhero entertainment, you’ll get your money’s worth. Also, be sure to stick through the credits!

Remember, Remember…

Back to the Wharf

by Brandon Thomas

Many of your favorite neo-noirs play with the idea of past transgressions coming back to haunt our hero(s). Whether it’s murder born of passionate jealousy or a botched robbery that places the lead on the run, the past hangs on this genre like a cheap suit. In director Xiaofeng Li’s Back to the Wharf, one tragic mistake has a ripple effect across an entire family and community.

Song Hao (Yu Zhang) has returned to his hometown after 15 years following the death of his mother. Once a promising student with university in his future, Song fled after mistakenly entering a neighbor’s home and stabbing him. What Song didn’t know at the time is that his father finished off the mortally wounded man to save his son – and that one of Song’s classmates, Li Tang (Hong-chi Lee) witnessed the crime and has been using it to blackmail his father ever since.

Back to the Wharf – unlike many modern neo-noirs – isn’t concerned with the tropes of the genre. The cool factor is toned down in favor of a more quiet character study. The bursts of violence that do happen are born out of believable character development, not a need to clumsily move the plot along. 

Zhang as Song Hao delivers a quiet, but enthralling performance. It’s easy to see Song is a powder keg, but the delicateness of Zhang’s performance has us as viewers begging for that eventual explosion not to happen. This is especially true once Pan (Song Jia), a former classmate of Song’s, enters his life again. Their meet-cute is made all the more adorable because of Pan’s quirky demeanor – one that has made her an isolated outsider in the community, just like Song. Jia’s jovial outward performance is a fantastic juxtaposition to Zhang’s stoic and guilt-ridden Song.

The film’s eventual conclusion is an unsubtle comment on how violence festers into more violence. There’s no crescendo of righteous vengeance from Song or his father against Li Tang as he squeezes the two for political favors. The cycle of greed and emotional reckoning remains unbroken even as Song tries to build a life of stability with Pan.
While straddling the line between typical neo-noir and quiet character drama, Back to the Wharf manages to satisfy fans of both genres.

The Children Are Our Future

There’s Something Wrong with the Children

by Hope Madden

There are things about There’s Something Wrong with the Children that feel familiar. It’s a cabin-in-the-woods horror film, sure, but director Roxanne Benjamin complicates those tiresome tropes because the forest partiers are a little older than your typical co-eds.

The film drops us somewhere near the end of the first night of vacation. Ben (Zach Gilford) and Margo (Alisha Wainwright) are spending the weekend in adjoining cabins with Margo’s best friend, Ellie (Amanda Crew), and her husband and two kids.

There’s a camaraderie as well as a distance among all partiers that feels authentic. Ellie drinks a great deal for a parent whose kids are on-hand. Ben seems more comfortable playing nerdy forest games with the kids than he does hanging out with the adults. Ellie’s husband Thomas (Carlos Santos) is clearly upset with his wife about something.

The kids seem fine.

And then Ben drags everyone on a forest hike that requires a machete to complete. They stumble upon a ruin with a deep, deep well. Everybody gets a little weird, the children’s noses spontaneously bleed, and the campers decide to retire to their cabins.

The kids – as you might predict from the title – are no longer fine.

The entire cast is solid. Even when the film wades into too-familiar territory, the actors elevate the material with realistic and reasonable performances. Both David Mattie and Briella Guiza as the children in question evolve beautifully from precocious youngsters to something terrifying yet still playful.

I appreciate the way Benjamin dwells in that fun-and-games space where adults do childish things, where dangerous behavior can masquerade as playfulness. She draws you into a supernatural world that feels whisper close to reality.

The most intriguing thing about this film is its stance on motherhood. As much as I enjoyed M3GAN, its mom-shaming got to me. Horror (and not only horror) has a terrible habit of developing storylines meant to prove to women that they do, indeed, have a maternal instinct. And woe be to those women who simply do not.

Benjamin, focusing a script by T.J. Cimfel and David White, instead explores the tension involved in simply owning your own decision not to become a mother. Indeed, There’s Something Wrong with the Children wholly approves of this choice. Makes a great case for it, even.

Daddy Issues

Legions

by Hope Madden

I watch a lot of movies. More than anything, I watch horror movies. Once in a long while, you uncover a little treasure, something that sneaks up on you with a distinct voice and magical storytelling. Such is the case with Fabián Forte’s Legions.

Antonio (Germán de Silva) recounts his life stories to the other residents in the hospital where he’s being held instead of prison. Some people call him a shaman. He prefers to be called a mediator between worlds. It’s that mediation that landed him in the hospital and caused a likely irreparable rift between him and his daughter, Helena (Lorena Vega).

But the blood moon is coming and with it a demon that will use Helena to bring about the apocalypse. To save his daughter, Argentina, and the world, Antonio has to make his daughter believe in him again.

Forte’s film traverses three different time periods and three distinct tones but the filmmaker masterfully blends them one to the next. Each new era has a different color palette and score to emphasize the change in tone, as Antonio’s stature and the respect he receives from those around him and from his daughter diminish. Finally, with a fully comedic tenor, Antonio finds himself quarantined in his old age.

In this way, Legions bears a passing resemblance to Don Coscarelli’s amazing Bubba Ho-Tep, though the humor at the expense of residents is sometimes patronizing. Still, by having patients mount a stage production of Antonio’s tales strengthens the thread connecting truth and fiction, real-life horror and entertainment, and day-to-day cynicism with faith.

Forte channels not just Coscarelli but, and far more obviously, Sam Raimi. Still, the film feels entirely its own, partly because it glides through different sub-genres so smoothly, and partly because it wears its heart on its sleeve.

At its core, Legions is a fantasy about regaining the respect of your adult children, and because of that, it’s both relatable and touching.