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Outtakes

Mighty Mighty Joy

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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.

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You Play Lizzy?

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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.

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Bloody Mess

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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.

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Safe Spaces

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Tuner

by George Wolf

His first narrative feature may focus on busting into safes, but Oscar-winning documentation Daniel Roher shows some fine natural instincts for cracking the code that makes “romantic thriller” a crowd pleasing genre ride.

The thriller part comes when mild-mannered piano tuner Niki White (Leo Woodall from Nuremberg and The White Lotus) gets lured into a secret life of crime. Niki was a child prodigy on piano, but a diagnosis of hyperacusis (allergic to loud noises) derailed his performing career. Working with father figure Harry Horowitz (Dustin Hoffman) as a piano tuner blessed with perfect pitch, Niki wears noise canceling headphones all day and laments what might have been.

A chance encounter with a shady security team at a high-end mansion leads Niki to show how his hyper-sensitive hearing can be used to open combination locks. So the menacing Uri (Lior Raz) offers Niki the chance to make some big money, just when Harry’s medical bills have started piling up.

Romance blooms when music student Ruthie (Havana Rose Liu) needs her piano tuned (pause for laughter, but she really does). Ruthie is vying for a choice position as an assistant to maestro Marius Maissner (Jean Reno) and doesn’t really have time for a boyfriend…but she and Niki are such an irresistible match!

Woodall’s turn is understated and sympathetic, Liu (Bottoms, Lurker) has a natural presence that gives Ruthie some complex layers and Hoffman is clearly having a ball with some blatant (scene) stealing of his own. All three of their characters seem real from the opening minutes, allowing the film to pull you in with ease.

Roher (Navalny) launches Niki’s two lifelines on a consistently engaging collision course buoyed by the terrific performances, sharp editing (film and sound), effective tension, shocking twists and an unlikely couple we can’t help rooting for. And along the way, Roher and co-writer Robert Ramsey find time to toss in well-placed nods to the rot of “fuck you money,” America’s obscene health care system and the often under-appreciated nature of art.

Yes, Tuner packs a lot into its 109 minutes, so much so that it’s easy to stop wondering about security cams or why Niki paying bills with stacks of cash doesn’t arise any suspicions. You just shrug it off, and that speaks loudly about how well the rest of the film is constructed.

In fact, the slightly contrived, crowd-serviced turns that come in Act Three would elicit a few eyes rolls in lesser films. But by then, Tuner has carved out its own safe space, as a pitch-perfect example of how to make an audience want exactly what you’re going to deliver.

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The Weather Is Here

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Pressure

by George Wolf

How do you wring new tension from any well-known historical event, much less one with an outcome that’s been globally celebrated for over 80 years?

The films that have done it successfully focus intimately on the personalities involved in making pivotal decisions, and on some lesser-known factors that influenced their actions.

Pressure wisely does the same, turning the final order for the Allied Invasion of Normandy (D-Day) into a standoff between two polar opposite weathermen.

Andrew Scott is terrific as Group Captain Dr. James Stagg of the RAF, the Allies’ Chief Meteorological Officer who comes to General Dwight Eisenhower (Oscar-winner Brenden Fraser) with the highest recommendation from Winston Churchill himself.

Stagg’s blunt, no nonsense and analytical approach clashes immediately with Colonel Irving Krick (Chris Messina). Krick has earned Gen. Eisenhower’s trust through a history accurate forecasts, but Dr. Stagg believes Krick’s approach to the data at hand is suspect.

D Day is planned for the morning of June 5th, 1944. The film opens with 72 hours to go, and Eisenhower needs an answer.

Are we good to go? Krick says clear skies. Stagg says dangerous storms ahead.

Director Anthony Maras and co-writer David Haig adapt Haig’s 2014 stage play as an effective character study of a man who knew enough about the weather to never proclaim certainty. Stagg is quiet but confident, and Scott (All of Us Strangers, Wake Up Dead Man) deftly captures the internal struggle of a man being urged to tell the Generals what they want to hear even though he believes it’s wrong.

When Stagg tells Krick “You’re selecting data that suits you and ignoring the rest!” the line lands hard (just imagine if Krick had social media.) And it’s part of how the script cements Stagg’s courage of conviction as the largest seaborne invasion in history hung in the balance and his pregnant wife’s hospital took shelling back home.

Maras (Hotel Mumbai, The Palace) gets solid support from Fraser, Kerry Condon and Damian Lewis, and only occasionally drifts from the effective intimacies for more broadly brushed, war film grandstanding. And while the actual invasion sequences may not be exactly Private Ryan-worthy, that is a very, very tall order, Maras knows the film needs to go there and kudos to him for reminding us of that those brutal beach sacrifices.

Gen. Eisenhower’s famous quote to JFK credited the success of the Normandy invasion to having “better meteorologists than the Germans.” That wasn’t just a quip, it was an invitation to learn more.

Pressure is a good place to start.

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To Sheep With Anger

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The Sheep Detectives

by George Wolf

I was expecting to enjoy The Sheep Detectives. And I did, but for reasons I hadn’t prepared for.

What seemed like a silly showcase for sleuthing sheep in a droll knockoff of the whodunnit formula also turns out to be warm, human and downright touching.

Shepherd George Hardy (Hugh Jackman) tends his flock with loving care in the quaint English village of Denbrook. He also reads the animals mystery stories in the evening. So when George turns up dead and the bumbling Officer Derry (Nicholas Braun) is ready to rule “heart attack,” woolly suspicions erupt.

This was murder! And the sheep are going follow the lead of their “night stories” to guide these dimwitted humans toward the evidence that will root out the guilty party.

Director Kyle Balda (Minions, Despicable Me 3) and writer Craig Mazin adapt Leonie Swann’s novel “Three Bags Full” with tenderness, wit, and a big assist from pristine production design and the CGI department’s wonderfully rendered talking animals.

Mazin’s resume runs the gamut from the Chernobyl series to The Hangover franchise, so the warm fuzzies here are another welcome surprise. The humor is more amusing than LOL, but the stellar cast of bodies (including Emma Thompson, Hong Chau, and Molly Gordon) and voices (Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Sir Patrick Stewart, Regina Hall and Bryan Cranston) work together in landing every opportunity for mirth, mystery and meaning.

The film’s foray into darker themes earns the PG-rating, but there is fertile ground here for all-ages family bonding over lessons on kindness, belonging, and loss. You might come for the funny talking sheep, but you can expect to be thoroughly delighted by the mix of Knives Out and Charlotte’s Web that was hiding in plain sight.

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Serkis Circus

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Animal Farm

by George Wolf

You may have questions going into the newly realized Animal Farm. And it’s a good bet you’ll have more coming out.

Who is this for exactly? What’s with these changes? Did someone think Orwell didn’t get the point across? And just…why?

For his part, director Andy Serkis has addressed some of these concerns in the weeks leading up to the film’s release. Serkis has stressed that he worked closely with Orwell’s estate, striving to update the classic tale with modern themes and a nod toward understanding “the contradictions within its author.”

That is an ambitious goal, to say the least, and one that Serkis, screenwriter Nicholas Stoller and a star-studded voice cast can’t completely bring to market.

The first major adjustment is adding the character of Lucky (voiced by Gatan Matarazzo), a young pig that serves as a moral compass for younger viewers. Lucky is easily influenced by boss hog Napoleon (Seth Rogen) as the farm rules of equality and fairness are twisted and broken.

Lucky is key to Napoleon’s plan of exploitation, and to making hard working animals like Boxer (Woody Harrelson) believe Napoleon has their best interests at heart. So why is he cozying up to the cyber truck driving tycoon Frieda Pilkington (Glenn Close) and Mr. Whymper the banker (Steve Buscemi)?

Well, some animals are more equal than others. That’s always been the rule!

The fart jokes and obvious humor are a bit jarring for such cherished material, but make it clear Serkis is aiming to give younger audiences a primer in Orwell’s belief that absolute power corrupts absolutely. It’s best to keep that in mind when the movie delivers a new, hope-filled ending that’s a few pastures away from Orwell’s bleak reveal.

To adults who revere that original cautionary tale, much of this overhaul may feel like a blasphemous Chicken Run rebellion. These animals have to decide for themselves that they’ve been hoodwinked, don’t they? So isn’t Lucky’s hand-holding a bit contradictory? And as well meaning as this might be, why risk diluting the power of Orwell that will come when the kids are old enough to grasp it?

After a series of examples both pro and anti-capitalism, the end credits montage cements the message that the enemies are the absolutely corrupt of any ilk. And history has shown they can be overcome.

Some of it works, yes. But honestly, it’s just impossible to come at it with the fresh eyes and clear heads of the ones it appears to be meant for. Do I respect what this Serkis circus is trying to do? Yes.

Do I wish he did it with an original story not named Animal Farm?

Also yes.

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Wrecked Him? Nearly Killed Him!

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Deep Water

by George Wolf

It isn’t too long before counting all the borrowed ideas becomes the most fun Deep Water is offering.

It’s a shark movie, so…Jaws. But you’ll also spot Titanic, the Airport franchise, The Shallows, Train to Busan, The Perfect Storm and a good bit of The Poseidon Adventure.

At least they acknowledge that last one with a Shelly Winters wisecrack, and it’s welcome. Because for a film that seems to think it’s farther above a Sharknado sequel than it ends up being, a bit of self awareness is long overdue.

First, director Renny Harlin has to get us on a plane to Shanghai, so the team of six screenwriters (six!) runs us through a some broadly-drawn Airport style intros of passengers and crew.

In the cockpit we meet the rugged First Officer with personal demons (Aaron Eckhart), the veteran Captain with scalawag charm (Sir Ben Kingsley), and the patient flight attendants (Lucy Barrett, Chrissy Jin). On the passenger list we have the asshole (Angus Sampson), the idiot parents looking to join the Mile High Club (Kelly Gale and Ryan Bown), kids in peril (Molly Belle Wright and Elijah Tamati), the Shelly Winters (Kate Fitzpatrick) and two twentysomething dudes who almost throw hands early on (might they be forced to put aside petty differences and work together??)

The plane crashes into the sea, and the placement of the two main chunks of wreckage allows Harlin to execute some Poseidon-esque set pieces in between shark attacks. Those sharks are CGI, of course, and their ridiculous gymnastics make you long for the true tension of a mechanical maneater that often broke down.

Nothing here is the least bit scary, the writing is obvious and overwrought, and the entire tone is caught awkwardly between giving in to sharksploitation silliness and striving for a well-plotted thriller.

Only Kingsley seems to know which end of the pool Deep Water belongs in. Too bad nobody else let the Cap’n make something fun happen with all these remnants of better movies..

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Living Out Loud

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I Swear

by George Wolf

Honestly, I didn’t know that much about I Swear until Robert Aramayo’s amazing performance won a BAFTA Award earlier this year. Now, after seeing it, I have to wonder why officials from BAFTA and the BBC didn’t take more of its lessons to heart.

The film follows the life of Scottish Tourette’s campaigner John Davidson, and opens with Davidson yelling “F*&$ the Queen” moments before Queen Elizabeth herself presented him with an MBE for services to the Tourette’s community.

As a teenager, Davidson developed Tourette’s with coprolalia, a complex vocal tic which causes “the involuntary, uncontrollable utterance of obscene words, sexual/racial slurs, taboo phrases or profane language.” The condition brought isolation within his community and his own family, leading Davidson to move in with the family of a friend, where he found the unconditional support that launched his journey to help others.

Aramayo’s turn as Davidson is simply astonishing. Beyond the physical and vocal authenticity, Aramayo crafts an endlessly sympathetic arc of frustration, acceptance, perseverance and triumph. Heartbreaking but ultimately joyful, Aramayo’s is a deeply felt performance that fills each scene with a humanity that buoys the film.

Writer/director Kirk Jones (Waking Ned Devine) is careful to keep events accurate, drawing from the 1989 doc John’s Not Mad, actual clinical trials, and Davidson himself. Nothing here feels overwritten or sensational, as Jones allows the terrific actors (including great support from Maxine Peake as John’s surrogate mother and Shirley Henderson as his actual mum) to work specific moments for emotional depth.

The message of education, patience and understanding is meaningful and lasting. And it reminds you that, with more of each, there was certainly a way to host Davidson at the BAFTA ceremony and still safeguard other attendees and the television audience from the slurs that occurred.

But I Swear can stand on its own merits. It is a film that is able to turn simple human compassion into a crowd-pleasing event. May it play to large, humanity-pleasing crowds.

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Death Do Us Part

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Over Your Dead Body

by George Wolf

Why would Jason Segel plot to kill Samara Weaving?

Has he not seen Ready or Not? Borderline? Azreal? Ready or Not 2?

Segel is surely smart enough to play nice, but Dan – his character in Over Your Dead Body – is not. Dan and Lisa (Weaving) are off on a secluded weekend in a cabin by the lake. After 7 years together, they can barely say a cordial word, but this time Dan is laying the sweetness on pretty thick.

He’s cooked up a great dinner, along with a great alibi. Because after a nice boat ride on the lake, Lisa will sleep with the fishes.

Or not. Because Lisa has a plan of her own. And so do some convicts on the run (Timothy Olyphant, Keith Jardine) and the corrections officer who helped bust them out (Juliette Lewis).

Power shifts, violence and blood splatter ensue!

Writers Nick Kocher and Brian McElhaney, fresh off the hilariously unhinged Pizza Movie, adapt the 2021 Norwegian film The Trip with a healthy scoop of witty cynicism atop one good ol’ American mean streak.

Segel and Weaving make an excellent pair of frassasins (friendly assassins), he of the emasculated man child and she of the exasperated younger wife wondering what she saw in this guy. Neither is blameless in the demise of the marriage, and the two actors make the deadly bobbing and weaving (pun intended) a surprising, squirm-inducing delight.

Those squirms only increase once the three fugitives enter the fray, and comic director Jorma Taccone (Popstar, MacGruber) forays into body horror with a respectable aversion to sparring the rum or the wisecracks. What starts out as an in-the-moment sendup of how couples avoid therapy takes a nasty turn in the second half. The threat of violence inherent in the premise makes for a smoother transition, but make no mistake: Taccone leans into that R-rating with some serious bloodshed.

If you’re fine with that, Over Your Dead Body is an entertaining genre blast that’s pretty hard to ignore. And by pretty, I mean pretty funny.

And pretty gross.