The Farewell: Nai Nai (Zhao Shu-zhen), the matriarch of a Chinese family, is dying but her sister keeps the truth from her. Instead, the family decides to hurry the marriage of one of its youngest members, Hao Hao (Chen Han), to his Japanese girlfriend, Aiko (Aoi Mizuhara), as an excuse to gather everyone together to say goodbye to Nai Nai in China. Our main character is Billi Wang (Awkwafina), a second-generation Chinese-American living in New York City, who adores her paternal grandmother Nai Nai and is shocked to hear the plan from her parents, Haiyan Wang (Tzi Ma) and Lu Jian Wang (Diana Lin). They explain that some Chinese people believe that worry hastens death more than the disease itself. Billi doesn't have the best poker face, and her parents agree to let her travel to China only on condition that she not tell Nai Nai the truth or mope about.
The Farewell has a setup reminiscent of Akira Kurosawa's Ikiru (1952) in that someone terminally ill isn't told of their diagnosis. Writer-director Lulu Wang based her film on her own life – the same situation occurred with her grandmother and family. As a result, The Farewell has a personal feel, as well as a nice mix of comedy and drama. Awkwafina typically plays comic supporting roles, but here she shows she can both play a serious role and be a film's lead. Although the film centers on Billi and everyone's relationship with Nai Nai and their grief, we also see plenty more from Billi: her dealing with being rejected from a fellowship; struggling to express herself in not-great Mandarin; and telling scenes about her familial relations. (Lu Jian: How many wontons do you want? Billi: ..Five. Lu Jian: That's not enough. Billi: Make it a dozen, then. Lu Jian: ...Ten.) Basing the film on her family members surely helped Lulu Wang know these characters (and her aunt Hong Lu, or "Little Nai Nai," plays herself), but it takes an observant eye to craft so many authentic moments. I thought The Farewell was one of the best smaller films of 2019.
Ad Astra:Ad Astra (which means "to the stars") is essentially 2001: A Space Odyssey mashed up with Apocalypse Now/Heart of Darkness, with astronaut Roy McBride (Brad Pitt) asked to seek out or at least contact his father, Clifford McBride (Tommy Lee Jones), a famous and celebrated astronaut the public believes to be dead. Earth is being buffeted by occasional power surges that cause great damage. Roy is told by the U.S. Space Command that his father may be still alive and also that they believe his father may be causing the surges. But as Roy progresses, he discovers new, key details that make him question the story he's been told.
Although the film involves several journeys through space, and some notable action, overall it's a pretty internal, reflective film, with heavy narration from Pitt as Roy McBride. Roy is an extremely cool customer – he stays calm under pressure, which is a huge asset for his work, but he's also emotionally blocked, repressing rage and other feelings, and thus pretty crappy at personal relationships. Pitt does a fine job and it's one of his best performances; honestly, I'd rate it above his Oscar-winning turn for 2019's Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, and Ad Astra and his previous body of work almost certainly helped nab him the trophy. Tommy Lee Jones, Ruth Negga and Donald Sutherland are memorable in supporting roles. Although director and cowriter James Gray bragged about the scientific accuracy of the film, a few key moments don't make sense but at least don't really affect the outcome. Overall, I thought Ad Astra was far more successful and satisfying than Interstellar in exploring a character and the human psyche in a science fiction setting.
Jojo Rabbit: A young boy in the Hitler Youth earnestly tries to be a good little Nazi, but he's simply too good-natured for it, despite the urgings of his imaginary friend, Adolf Hitler. Mixing comedy and Nazis has been done well in the past, but it's not the easiest feat. Jojo Rabbit does an admirable job of making us laugh while also showing us bigotry, terror and death. The film's success depends largely on a great debut performance by twelve-year-old Roman Griffin Davis as the young Johannes "Jojo" Betzler. He's got an open, expressive face, and even when Jojo tries to be harsh or cruel, it's clear he can't keep it for long. Davis handles the wide range of emotions the film demands impressively. Jojo's biggest challenge comes when encountering the boogeyman of the propaganda he's been fed, a real-life Jew, Elsa (Thomasin McKenzie), a girl a bit older than he who's in hiding. Jojo tries to press Elsa for her "Jew secrets" to write a book, and she toys with him, amused but also saddened by how gullible he is about awful myths and whatever she concocts. Meanwhile, Jojo alternates between bonding and acting out with his mother, Rosie (Scarlett Johansson). Captain Klenzendorf (Sam Rockwell) has Jojo putting up propaganda posters around town, where he sometimes runs into his good friend Yorki (Archie Yates). Throughout all this, Jojo is given advice by his imaginary friend, Adolf Hitler, who mostly comes off as ridiculous if supportive but occasionally demanding. He's played with a comic flair by the writer-director, Taika Waititi. (There's added comedy in Waititi being part Maori and definitely not part of Hitler's master race.)
Jojo Rabbit fits well with Europa Europa, To Be or Not to Be and Life Is Beautful in successfully mixing Nazi-satirizing scenes with serious ones. All the major characters have some complexity – Jojo himself, Elsa, Rosie, and even Captain Klenzendorf. About my only criticism would be some deliberate anachronisms in the finale that I found distracting. But the film is definitely worth a look.
Avengers: Endgame: Give Marvel credit: not only did they deliver a great summer blockbuster, they managed to put a fitting capstone on all their films up to this point, and somehow make it look pretty easy. You do need to have at least seen Avengers: Infinity War (reviewed here), and many Endgame scenes will have more resonance if you've seen the other Marvel films, but otherwise, it's pretty self-sufficient. After a little action, the film slows down, and becomes much more about how the characters deal with grief and loss. The next major section is a complicated, multi-target time heist, and just as the filmmakers did in Infinity War, they bring variety to each segment. (Although parent-child scenes are a recurring theme in the movie.) Then, never fear, the movie's massive budget is put to use in an epic, multiphase, final battle. Endgame provides quite a few funny moments, but given the ending of the previous film, its overall feel is much more somber. And although it contrives some crowd-pleasing moments, such as all the heroines assembling, we don't mind much because they're fun, and other crowd-pleasing moments build on previous Marvel scenes and thus feel very much earned. (You probably know the big one.) Marvel remains excellent at knowing the characters and building the stories around them and their relationships. Captain America/Steve Rogers (Chris Evans) didn't have as large a role in Infinity War, but he's the key hero among dozens here, and Iron Man/Tony Stark (Robert Downey, Jr.) remains integral as well. Likewise, we didn't see much of Hawkeye/Clint Barton (Jeremy Renner) in Infinity War, but he's essential for establishing the chilling opening of Endgame and the emotional stakes of the later heist. Infinity War, among other things, cleverly set up Endgame to center on the core Avengers team for the bulk of the movie, and they all get good scenes.
I have mixed feelings about how the film treats Thor (Chris Hemsworth). On the one hand, his changes show a different side of grief and makes use of Hemsworth's comic gifts. On the other, as with Thor: Ragnarok (reviewed here), if not as severe, the filmmakers sometimes go for the laugh even if the gag's not really in character, which is rare for Marvel. (To be fair, Thor does get a great, more serious moment during the heist sequence.)
Chances are you've already seen Endgame, but it boasts some fantastic spectacle, great character moments and some genuinely moving scenes. The craftsmanship is impressive, all the more so when Endgame is viewed as the culmination of about 20 films. As we covered in the Infinity War review, it's the cinematic equivalent of a comic book crossover series, one of the good ones. No one's ever done something quite like this before.
Relatedly, It's intriguing that both Endgame and the Game of Thrones finale came out in the same month, given that the Marvel Cinematic Universe and "GoT" have both been cultural juggernauts. Game of Thrones, while offering some good moments in its final seasons, significantly botched its ending (for reasons I could explain at length but you've probably already seen elsewhere). Marvel managed to stick the landing, which is all the more remarkable given how high the expectations were. Also: some Game of Thrones fans were absolutely horrible about posting major spoilers before even other time zones got to watch new episodes. In contrast, Marvel fans (and Star Wars fans) have been consistently good about not giving away key spoilers. (SPOILERS)
The biggest crowd-pleasing moment is, of course, Captain America/Steve Rogers picking up Mjolnir, Thor's hammer. His ability to do so was hinted at in Age of Ultron, and Rogers is so virtuous and so in need it's plausible and not just a gimmick – although boy, he adapts to fighting with it awfully quick. Meanwhile, with Endgame, Marvel managed to give great send-offs to the two key characters of the Avengers, Iron Man/Tony Stark and Captain America/Steve Rogers. Very well-done. Also: points to Endgame for explaining its theory of time travel, and doing so with some humor. Endgame goes with the divergent stream theory, which I prefer to the other most popular theory, the closed loop.
(If the spoiler button isn't working, you can read the spoiler text here.)
Joker:Joker is a well-crafted film with a great lead performance, but it's pretty unpleasant viewing. We follow Arthur Fleck (Joaquin Phoenix), a party clown and struggling stand-up comic who's on medication he gets through social services – he has a condition that occasionally causes him to burst into uncontrollable laughter, which unsettles those around him. We see Arthur get mugged by teenagers and mocked by some of his coworkers; one of the few people who seems kind to him is a single mother neighbor, Sophie Dumond (Zazie Beetz). Arthur's mother, Penny (Frances Conroy), is in poor health, and tells him surprising tales of working for local millionaire, Thomas Wayne (Brett Cullen). We're pretty sympathetic to Arthur Fleck because of the mistreatment we see him suffer and what we learn of his childhood, which included abuse up to possible brain damage. But he's also prone to sudden violent rages, and taking things too far, making him not someone you'd like to hang out with for long.
Joaquin Phoenix gives his best performance since The Master (the eleventh film reviewed here), and he's similarly feral, intense and riveting. We can't take our eyes off him as Arthur Fleck, even if it's uneasy viewing. Joker is also interesting for its meta touches – it explicitly references Martin Scorsese's films The King of Comedy and Taxi Driver, both starring Robert De Niro, and De Niro himself appears in Joker as a major character, local talk show host Murray Franklin, who mocks footage of Fleck's stand-up act. Rather than being gimmicky, I thought the references gave the film more depth. Director and cowriter Todd Phillips was best known for The Hangover films before this, and he does produce some jet black comedy here, most memorably in a late scene involving Arthur's coworker Gary (Leigh Gill). The unsettling score by Hildur Guðnadóttir (who won the Oscar) adds to the unease. It's interesting that the comic book character the Joker has now won two actors Oscars (the other, of course, being the late Heath Ledger for The Dark Knight, the second film reviewed here). You might guess some of Joker's twists, but I found that didn't detract from the viewing experience. Joaquin Phoenix is excellent, and the filmmakers sought to make a disturbing film and succeeded. It's not a film I'm going to rush to see again, though.
Pain and Glory/Dolor y gloria: Pedro Almodóvar's latest film is semi-autobiographical and his most personally revealing film to date. We follow Salvador Mallo (frequent Almodóvar collaborator Antonio Banderas), who like Almodóvar, is a gay director struggling with chronic pain who hasn't made a new film in a while. An old friend, Zulema (Cecila Roth) urges him to introduce one of his old films, Sabor (Flavor in English), which would require him to reconcile with the film's star, Alberto Crespo (Asier Etxeandia) with whom he had a falling out. Meanwhile, we see flashbacks of Mallo's childhood, with his mother Jacinta played by another Almodóvar favorite, Penélope Cruz. In the course of revisiting his old film and old relationships, plus dusting off an old, abandoned play, Mallo starts to revisit his past and also delve again into his creative side, all while fighting with physical pain and possibly some new addictions.
Banderas gives a vulnerable, sympathetic performance as Mallo, who's talented but hurting and withdrawn, and occasionally prone to undiplomatically speaking his mind. Almodóvar also offers an somewhat unconventional storyline with some unexpected turns and notable coincidences, making Pain and Glory a bit unpredictable. For instance, late in the film, we meet Mallo's mother in the almost-present-day, this time played by Julieta Serrano, and she and Salvador share some pivotal scenes. This is the best serious performance I've seen from Banderas, and Almodóvar remains an interesting filmmaker. (I was glad to see that a seeming incongruity was intentional and explained by the end.) This isn't a flashy film, but it's character-driven and quite a good one.
(SPOILERS)
When Julieta Serrano shows up as Salvador Mallo's elderly mother, I was struck by her having blue eyes, whereas Penélope Cruz has very distinctive dark eyes. Serrano and Cruz also don't look much alike otherwise. I was wondering if Almodóvar just decided he liked Serrano as an actress, so screw continuity, but of course we see at the very end that Cruz is playing an actress playing Salvador's mother, and everything makes sense.
(If the spoiler button isn't working, you can read the spoiler text here.)
You have to make this work. It's only legal if it works.
A true story of an idealistic staffer fighting the system, The Report (or The Torture Report, with the word "Torture" crossed out), focuses on Daniel Jones (Adam Driver), the key member of the Senate Intelligence Committee's investigation into torture by the CIA under the Bush administration. Jones wants to get the truth, but the CIA pushes back. Jones also gets resistance from Obama's chief of staff, Denis McDonough (Jon Hamm), who argues it's time to move on from this recent history. Jones' boss, Democratic Senator Dianne Feinstein (Annette Bening), sometimes supports his efforts but occasionally urges caution and seems more concerned with political calculations. But Jones finds or is contacted by people involved with the torture program with troubled consciences who want the truth known, and also has to consider breaking the rules to report everything to the public.
As you may know, Jones and his team reviewed countless pages and eventually produced a 6,700 page report that remains classified, with only portions released to date. (It should all be declassified.) Writer-director Scott Z. Burns picked an ambitious project – this is potentially difficult material, because on the one hand, poring through papers isn't inherently cinematic, while on the other, scenes involving torture and abuse may be gripping but disturbing. Credit Burns for managing to deliver both a decent thriller and primer on U.S. torture during the Bush era. Although The Report doesn't examine everyone in the Bush administration, I was impressed by its accuracy and responsible approach to a serious subject, which made a welcome change from Zero Dark Thirty (I have a very long post on that film here). The Report received generally positive reviews but a very limited release in theaters, although it is available on Amazon.
(For what it's worth, I saw The Report with friends who are less into this history who found it fairly compelling as both a movie and primer. Here's Scott Z. Burns on The Treatment, Morning Edition and the PBS NewsHour.)
Dark Waters: Another real-life story of an idealist fighting the system, Dark Waters follows lawyer Robert Billot (Mark Ruffalo) as he takes on the chemical company DuPont, a mighty corporate power. He comes to the case accidentally; he's a corporate defense lawyer, used to protecting big companies, but a farmer from his hometown of Parkersburg, West Virginia, who knows Billot's grandmother shows up asking for help. The farmer claims that DuPont is poisoning the water and causing the deaths of his cow herd, which is suffering from odd medical ailments. Billot initially isn't planning to get deep into the case, but after he visits the farm, sees videotapes, and uncovers more evidence, he finds himself sucked in – DuPont's much-touted Teflon seems to cause cancer and birth defects. Billot's just made partner at his law firm, and his doggedness soon makes him enemies at DuPont, most notably executive Phil Donnelly (Victor Garber). It also stresses relations at work; his boss Tom Terp (Tim Robbins) tries to be understanding but is under pressure himself. Robert Billot's wife, Sarah Barlage (Anne Hathaway), likewise tries to be supportive, and is alternately proud of her husband and concerned about his health and seeming obsession with the case. The details depicted in the film are pretty chilling. Ruffalo's earnest performance gives the film its core, and the part of "the wife" is written with some welcome depth and variety, which Hathaway digs into with zest. Bill Camp is also good as Wilbur Tennant, the farmer who sets Billot on the case, as are Mare Winningham and Bill Pullman in small roles. Dark Waters is fairly engrossing as a film and sobering for its lasting real-world implications. After you see the film, I'd highly recommend checking out the All Things Considered interview with Mark Ruffalo and the real Robert Billot.
Just Mercy: Our third true story of an idealist fighting the system centers on Bryan Stevenson (Michael B. Jordan), a young lawyer who travels to Alabama in 1989 to try to help death row inmates who cannot afford representation. He and his colleague Eva Ansley (Brie Larson) face considerable opposition in town just in renting an office, and Stevenson soon experiences far worse. Stevenson's key client becomes Walter McMillian (Jamie Foxx), charged with murdering a young white woman in a flimsy, manufactured case. Several factors make Just Mercy notable: one, it's based on an actual case and is presented realistically, which makes the clear injustice (and racism) all the more appalling. Two, Stevenson is not a white savior; being black helps him connect with his clients and their families, and also means he's subjected to harassment, as are his witnesses. Three, the performances, which are uniformly good, are naturalistic, even low-key. As Stevenson, Jordan never really makes flashy speeches (as in, say, A Few Good Men). Instead, he makes his arguments calmly, and rather than browbeating others, often uses a more understated, compassionate approach, appealing to the better angels of their nature. Jordan and Foxx give fine performances as the leads, but Tim Blake Nelson is also exceptional as Ralph Myers, a key witness, and Larson and Rafe Spall as the local D.A. are also good. Several of the locals urge Stevenson to visit the local To Kill a Mockingbird museum, but seem to want to think of racism as something that existed in the past. Just Mercy shows that isn't so, and unfortunately it remains a timely film.
The Man Who Killed Don Quixote: A passion project for director and cowriter Terry Gilliam, The Man Who Killed Don Quixote was officially released in 2018 but only in the U.S. in 2019, first as a one-day, special event and later in limited release. If you've seen the 2002 documentary Lost in La Mancha, about all the disasters that struck Gilliam's previous filming in 2000, and know that he'd been trying to make this film for almost 30 years, you have applaud his perseverance if absolutely nothing else. (The Wikipedia entry has a pretty exhaustive rundown.) Although The Man Who Killed Don Quixote is not as good as Gilliam's masterpieces, Time Bandits, Brazil, and The Fisher King, it's still got some fine scenes, and fans of either Gilliam or Don Quixote won't want to miss this one.
Toby Grummett (Adam Driver) is shooting a commercial in Spain featuring Don Quixote, Sancho Panza and a windmill. Toby's presented as pretty cynical and shallow, and is having an affair with Jacqui (Olga Kurylenko), the wife of "the Boss" (Stellan Skarsgård), but while at dinner, a man tries to sell him a DVD of Toby's student film, "The Man Who Killed Don Quixote." Toby buys it and watches it, which brings back memories of when he had a soul, and the bonds he formed with his Don Quixote, played by a slightly nutty cobbler named Javier (Jonathan Pryce). He also recalls his romantic relationship with Angelica (Joana Ribeiro), a local young woman who played a small role in the film. Toby goes looking for them, and discovers that Javier now truly believes himself to be Don Quixote, and furthermore believes Toby to be Sancho Panza, his squire. Soon they are off on adventures together, and reality and fantasy increasingly seem to blur. Many of the incidents are taken directly from Cervantes' Don Quixote, although generally with some modern twist, as with the Knight of Mirrors. The Man Who Killed Don Quixote would probably benefit from repeated viewings for its details and also likely suffers from high expectations given its tortuous development – personally, I liked it, but wanted to adore it and promote it far and wide. I'm not the biggest Adam Driver fan and Toby's shallowness in the beginning seems like a pale imitation of Jack from The Fisher King. But Jonathan Pryce makes a superb Don Quixote, Olga Kurylenko is quite good, and Joana Ribeiro is memorable as Angelica. Whatever The Man Who Killed Don Quixote is, it is not a cookie cutter film, and bravo to Terry Gilliam for finally getting it made.
Knives Out:Knives Out is a fun mystery flick with comic moments and social satire along with the requisite tension and suspense. Highly successful mystery writer Harlan Thrombey (Christopher Plummer) is turning 85, and is rather critical of his extended family, who sponge off him. The morning after his well-attended birthday party, he's discovered dead, and although the police initially think it's suicide, celebrated private detective Benoit Blanc (Daniel Craig) shows up and suspects "foul play." Blanc has been hired by an unknown party, but as he and the police dig, they discover that almost everyone had a motive. At the center of everything is Marta Cabrera (Ana de Armas, previously seen in Blade Runner 2049), Harlan's nurse, with whom he's grown quite close. She seems to be one of the few if only characters who likes Harlan for himself, which makes us like her too, and we see much of the film from her perspective. The family members, including characters played by Jamie Lee Curtis, Chris Evans, Michael Shannon and Toni Collette, like to say Marta's part of the family, but in a nice running gag, they can't even agree on what Spanish-speaking country she's from, and their devotion seems to end at the checkbook's edge. A big fan of mysteries, writer-director Rian Johnson keeps things moving and delivers some shocks along the way, but it's the satire of privileged white people who are far less civilized than they believe that really makes Knives Out distinctive and amusing.
You'll likely see some of the twists coming but not all of them. I appreciated that the biggest incongruity for me was eventually explained. That said, murder mysteries often have an inherent implausibility to them, so it helps to like the genre a bit to go along with the inciting incident and the convention of intricate behind-the-scenes plotting. I think the film probably would be fun to watch a second time but perhaps less interesting past that. Daniel Craig worked hard on his Southern accent, and it's better than the one he used in Logan Lucky, but in interviews he claimed he nailed it and… he didn't. He's still enjoyable to watch, though, and sells at least one key moment. I liked parts of The Last Jedi but thought Rian Johnson mishandled others (review here); I'm much more a fan of Looper (the third film reviewed here) and his original, memorable if somewhat uneven high school film noir, Brick (the fourth film reviewed here). The final scene of Knives Out is nicely done, wordless, pointed and memorable.
Harriet: The general rule for biopics is that the lead performance is notably stronger than the film as a whole, and that holds true for Harriet. It's great to finally see a major motion picture about such a notable historical figure, a black woman whose life story really is quite extraordinary and seemingly great cinematic fodder. English singer, stage and screen actress Cynthia Erivo plays the slave "Minty," who eventually adopts the name Harriet Tubman after she escapes and then returns again and again to rescue other slaves at great personal risk. As if those attempts weren't inherently challenging enough, she occasionally has dizzy spells or passes out due to a nasty head injury she sustained as a slave.
Erivo is a strong screen presence and brings the steely resolves the role demands; she also does a great job singing the rousing credits song, "Rise Up." It's nice to see a core black team for a black woman's story, with director-cowriter Kasi Lemmons, cowriter-producer Gregory Allen Howard and producer Debra Martin Chase. I wanted to like Harriet more than I did, but two factors detracted from it for me. The first is the decision to depict Harriet as having visions and feelings that warn her of danger and steer her to the correct path, like a divine spider sense. Although the historical Harriet was religious and did have visions and dreams, probably related to her head injury, she was also extremely clever, and going the supernatural route strips her of some agency and minimizes her intelligence and inventiveness freeing slaves. The second is a late confrontation between Harriet and a white man from her past. It plays out very much as a typical Hollywood scene, and may resonate for some viewers, but its obvious artifice pulled me out. The style contrasts with the more realistic and harrowing approach of 12 Years a Slave, which I prefer (it's reviewed here). That said, I’m glad Harriet was made and hope more slave narratives are made into films. A good biopic of Fredrick Douglass seems long overdue.
How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World: This is a solid entry and ending to the Dragon trilogy, and if you've seen the others, you'll want to see this one. The Vikings and their dragons are once again in peril, this time due to Grimmel the Grisly (F. Murray Abraham), a deadly dragon hunter leading a dangerous gang. In this film, seemingly lone night fury dragon Toothless also gets to experience potential romance when he encounters a female counterpart, a light fury dragon. (Toothless' wooing attempts, spurred on by his literal and figurative wingman Hiccup, make for some of the best comedic scenes.) The Hidden World is really about transitions and letting go. Hiccup faces the prospect of losing his best pal, Toothless, to either a lethal hunter or domestic dragon bliss far away, and does so even as he himself faces marriage with his longtime girlfriend, Astrid (America Ferrera), and all the life changes that entails. Hiccup's feelings toward Toothless are comparable to losing a beloved pet or even perhaps a parent seeing a child leave home, and his ambivalence in this film represents his most adult struggles to date.
The main problem with The Hidden World is that the first film (the sixth one reviewed here) remains the strongest entry in the series by far. Nothing in the two sequels, which are quite good, can compare with the sheer magic of the first flight sequence in the initial film, with lovely animation "camerawork" and the soaring score of John Powell (who returns here as composer). That's not really a fault of the sequels, because narratively, the first film allows for a much more deeply embedded, strong element of discovery and wonder, which the later films can partially capture with new revelations but can't fully match. (To jump genres, the same is true of The Bourne Identity compared to its sequels – it's Jason Bourne's "what did I just do?" reactions and "who am I?" dynamics that make it so interesting, whereas in later films he's aware of his abilities and dealing more with external challenges than internal struggles.) I appreciate, though, that the Dragon franchise has not just tried to remake the first film over and over again, even if it is my favorite. The filmmakers have sought to do something different with each sequel and have Hiccup grow as a person over the course of the trilogy, and they've succeeded. (The secondary characters change and grow, too, which is a sign of good writing.) Plus, you've still got Vikings (some with Scottish accents) and dragons. What's not to like?
Captain Marvel: The first Marvel movie focusing on a superheroine isn't the strongest entry, but it's still decent popcorn fare. It's partially a journey of self-discovery and self-actualization for Carol Danvers/Captain Marvel (Brie Larson) and part 80s/90s buddy flick with Carol and S.H.I.E.L.D's Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) on the road. Danvers fights for the alien Kree Empire against its arch-enemies, the shape-changing Skrulls, but she also suffers amnesia and has special, mighty powers she doesn't fully understand or control. Tangling with the Skrulls, she winds up with access to some extracted memories and they all wind up on Earth in the 90s. (The trailer featured a great shot of Captain Marvel crashing into a Blockbuster video store, which generates a laugh but also establishes the era. Good writing.) Carol eventually encounters people who knew her on Earth and each discovery just seems to lead to more questions. Larson's a good actress and she and Jackson have nice chemistry. Lashana Lynch, Ben Mendelsohn, Annette Bening and Jude Law also have notable roles. The biggest problem with Captain Marvel is that our heroine's powers are not well-defined, most of all their limits, and unbalanced power dynamics are rarely very interesting. Such decisions are more forgivable in an origin story, though. (And I did enjoy all the bits with Goose the cat.)
Spider-Man: Far From Home: The second Marvel Spider-Man film isn't as good as the earlier Homecoming, but Tom Holland remains perfectly cast as Peter Parker/Spider-Man and it's got some entertaining scenes. In this movie, Peter Parker is on a European trip with his high school classmates, but S.H.I.E.L.D's Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) contacts him about saving the planet from powerful elementals. Meanwhile, Parker's fallen for Mary Jane/MJ (Zendaya), and is working up the courage to say something. His best pal Ned (Jacob Batalon) encourages him when he remembers but is completely enrapt in a saccharine relationship with Betty Brant (Anguourie Rice). Superhero-wise, Parker's main challenges are hiding his identity while working with Mysterio/Quentin Beck (Jake Gyllenhaal), who claims to the last survivor of another dimension destroyed by the elementals. Parker's hungry for father figures, and he and Beck hit it off well. Marisa Tomei is back as the ridiculously young Aunt May Parker and Jon Favreau is back as Happy Hogan. J.B. Smoove and Martin Starr are quite funny as the kids' overwhelmed teachers and chaperones. And although Flash Thompson (Tony Revolori) continues to be Parker's main high school tormentor, the filmmakers do take a moment to humanize him. If you're familiar with the comics, you'll likely figure out some things before the rest of the audience, but the movie's still enjoyable. The final battle is pretty interesting, most of the secondary characters have good moments, and one of the puzzling aspects gets a funny payoff in the end credits. The film does end with a cliffhanger of sorts, though – I was surprised to see Marvel make that particular choice and am curious to see where the studio goes next. (Sony and Marvel/Disney were doing some posturing and threatening about no more Marvel Spider-Man movies, but it would be idiotic not to get Tom Holland into another Spider-Man movie, make a good flick we hope, and get both studios a ton of money.)
Star Wars Episode IX: The Rise of Skywalker: (I'm going to be less cautious with spoilers with this one, because you've probably seen it or at least the trailers.) First, the good stuff: it's a Star Wars movie. It's got lightsaber fights and space battles. C-3PO, R2-D2, Lando and Chewbacca get some good scenes; C-3PO probably gets his best scene of the last three chapters. We get one last look at Carrie Fisher as Leia. Finn (John Boyega) and Poe Dameron (Oscar Isaac) continue their bromance. Kylo Ren (Adam Driver) is a bit more interesting and bit less whiny. Ian McDiarmid is back as the Emperor Palpatine, which is ridiculous from a story perspective, but he makes for a great, scenery-chewing villain. And as Rey, Daisy Ridley remains a compelling heroine. (We also get some Jedi training sequences, which were oddly lacking in the previous film.) The movie's got some other fan-pleasing moments, and some of the scenes from the trailers, including fighting a speeding craft on foot and a lightsaber duel on a tempest-tossed shipwreck, live up to their teaser hype and are pretty cool.
The bad: let's cut the filmmakers some slack due to Carrie Fisher's death, because supposedly she was going to play a much bigger role in The Rise of Skywalker. But it really feels like the studio didn't work out the storyline for all three last films before they started making them. J.J. Abrams returns as director, which is all right because the original pick, Colin Trevorrow, concerned a lot of fans. (His underwhelming job on the Jurassic World films might have cost him the Star Wars job, thankfully.) But Abrams largely throws out what Rian Johnson did in The Last Jedi, a film with some significant problems but also a few great scenes. (My review is here.) Why all this talk of "dyads" if that was a major part of The Last Jedi but the term was never mentioned? Why all this mention of the Skywalker and Palpatine families when the entire film series has focused on the Skywalkers (it's in the friggin' name of this one) and we've never met or even heard of any Palpatines beside the Emperor/Darth Sidious? Likewise, why shoehorn in a brief scene of Leia training as a Jedi with an unconvincing narration trying to paper over major story problems of these last three episodes rather than planting those ideas in the earlier films? Why almost completely sideline Rose (Kelly Marie Tran)? Why tease us with a scene that evokes the fantastic Dagobah tree sequence from The Empire Strikes Back and have it last all of 10 seconds? (I'm exaggerating only slightly.) How the hell did the bad guys build this massive death fleet in secret and where did they get the resources for it? Does the Empire (or the First Order) ever invest in major weapons smaller than "planet-killer"? And do the shambling followers of the Emperor have nothing better to do than just sit in bleachers and cheer on his evildoing? Do they ever eat or have semi-normal jobs and have they spoken to their doctors about the dangers of a major Vitamin D deficiency? (Okay, those last few are a bit silly.)
If this were just a standalone Star Wars flick, I'd be less critical. And some of us Star Wars fans love the franchise despite its flaws, including not just the occasional bad dialogue or odd scene, but major implausibilities and head-scratching choices. But The Rise of Skywalker is concluding a nine-film, beloved series, and the best of those, The Empire Strikes Back, was a genuinely excellent film with decent acting, great writing, iconic scenes and significant depth in addition to being part of a pop culture juggernaut. The film that launched it all, Star Wars (later called A New Hope), was a little hokey but had an undeniable magic and energy that captured the imagination of more than one generation. Those films set the standard for the franchise. And although I wasn't expecting The Rise of Skywalker to be as good as those two, it felt, like episodes VII and VIII, to be a film made by committee and often the worse for it. I do think it'll probably be good that Disney has finished with the core nine films now, because any new Star Wars projects should be less constrained by specific story demands or even just expectations, besides a basic desire for a certain level of quality. And I will give The Rise of Skywalker credit for a pretty good, satisfying final scene. More in the… (SPOILERS)
We haven't seen Force healing before in the movies (yes in the extended universe, apparently, much of which is no longer canon, for stupid reasons), but that seems like a reasonable addition. Teleporting objects is completely new, too, and kind of ridiculous, but the fans enjoyed it, so okay. The Emperor's return is ludicrous, because his body was incinerated in The Return of the Jedi, and claiming he just returned somehow because of Sith powers is some of the laziest hand-waving ever perpetrated in a major film, but as we covered above, we kind of go with it because Ian McDiarmid is awesome. But his plan at first involves Rey striking him down and then apparently him possessing or merging with Rey. (Force ghost, evil Sith style.) But then he finds out she and Kylo Ren are a dyad and he suddenly switches to trying to kill her instead. Huh? The rules of this zombie Sith possession crap are unclear and apparently change on a dime. Kylo Ren gets to redeem himself, which is kind of nice, but it's also a bit weak that Star Wars tends to kill off redeemed villains right after their moment of grace (Darth Vader being the other major example). Although it makes sense from a narrative standpoint, because Kylo Ren meeting Finn, Poe, and the rest of the Rebel Alliance leaders would be unbelievably awkward if not completely unfeasible. So it's a bit of a cop-out, but ehh. I thought the redemption arc made Kylo Ren more interesting, at least. And I did like both the Han Solo and Luke Skywalker moments, which help sell both the Kylo and Rey arcs rather than just being cameos. So well-done on that front.
(If the spoiler button isn't working, you can read the spoiler text here.)
Tolkien: This is a decent but not great biopic of Jonathan Ronald Reuel Tolkien, the English professor most famous for writing the classic fantasies The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. Nicholas Hoult is well-cast as the young Tolkien, and captures his insatiable curiosity and love and talent for languages. Lily Collins plays Edith Bratt, the intelligent, artistic young woman he woos. Anthony Boyle, Patrick Gibson and Tom Glynn-Carney play Tolkien's schoolmates, with whom he grows extremely close. The Tolkien estate did not endorse the film and Finnish director Dome Karukoski (a Tolkien fan) makes some odd choices, as do screenwriters David Gleeson and Stephen Beresford. I questioned some of those decisions more after listening to the commentary and watching the deleted scenes. Tolkien served in the Great War, which was a pivotal experience for him and his schoolmates, but a key scene with one of them during the war was cut. Taking some artistic liberties with reality is to be expected, but some of the real stories of Tolkien wooing Edith are much more interesting than some of the more clichéd scenes we're presented – if you're going to invent things, make them better. That said, there's a marvelous scene with Tolkien using Welsh to get him and his coconspirators out of a jam that also conveys his sheer love of language and its magic, and all the scenes between Hoult as Tolkien and Derek Jacobi as linguistic professor Joseph Wright are delightful. If you're a Tolkien fan, go in with tempered expectations and you'll likely enjoy at least some of the scenes.
You have to adopt the mentality of an Irish street cop – the world is a bad place, people are lazy morons, minorities are criminals, sex is sick but interesting. Ask yourself, what would scare my grandmother or piss off my grandfather? And that's a Fox story.
– Jess Carr (Kate McKinnon), Bombshell
Bombshell, with its clever double-entendre title, tackles the real story of sexual harassment at Fox News, most notably by its head, Roger Ailes, and how it was covered up for years. We follow three women: Fox News star Megyn Kelly (Charlize Theron); on-air talent Gretchen Carlson (Nicole Kidman), who is falling out of favor with Ailes; and Kayla Pospisil (Margot Robbie), a young, aspiring employee who would like to appear on air (a fictional character). John Lithgow play Ailes and Malcolm McDowell is Rupert Murdoch. Bombshell does a good job of depicting the harassment but tries to avoid discussing politics, an odd choice that feels like a glaring omission for anyone familiar with Fox News' overtly political mission.
Parts of the film work quite well. The makeup artists justifiably won an Oscar for their work – Charlize Theron is almost unrecognizable, looking very much like Megyn Kelly and getting her verbal cadences down as well. (There's a good New York Times article about what the makeup department did to recreate the Fox News look for women: blonde hair, heavy eye makeup and lip gloss, short skirts and couches or glass desks to show off their legs – turning the women into Barbie dolls, just as Ailes wanted.) It's another good performance from Theron, and she depicts Kelly as a successful woman who wants to be taken seriously as a journalist, but suffers insults and even death threats after she crosses then-presidential candidate Donald Trump. Nicole Kidman likewise gives a solid performance as Gretchen Carlson, a former Miss America and Stanford graduate who Ailes often lambasts for not looking pretty or sexy enough, or for expressing political views at odds with the party line. John Lithgow, also done up in impressive makeup as the aging, ailing, overweight Ailes, captures his sharp, politically calculating mind as well as his leering, predatory nature. We see and hear several stories of harassment over the course of the film, but the core scenes focus on Margot Robbie as Kayla, who's young, pretty, ambitious, and fairly naïve. I thought Bombshell was particularly effective at not glamourizing the key harassment scenes at all and giving us a good sense of how degrading and humiliating such experiences are.
We first see Bombshell trying to sidestep politics in the inciting incident for Megyn Kelly, because we only see and hear a snippet of her clash with Trump during a Republican primary debate – her pressing him on his misogyny and him getting very nasty in retaliation. I wonder if the filmmakers had footage rights issues or were just worried that showing too much of Trump would derail the film? I understand not showing much of Trump later, but shying away from showing the full exchange feels like a really bad choice. That fight sets Kelly's storyline in motion. It also shows that she does have principles. (The real Kelly, while quite conservative, often brought up women's issues.) The politics of Fox News and its audience are also key to the Kelly storyline – Megyn Kelly was beloved of the male, white, conservative Fox News viewers, who openly lusted for her, but they turned on her in an instant and sided with Trump when she challenged him. We do see some of the misogyny and even death threats Kelly's subjected to, but not really how endemic sexism is for Fox News viewers as well the company itself – Kelly's high status was contingent on her not being perceived as uppity. We get a better sense of those sexist, mind-your-place dynamics from the Gretchen Carlson storyline, but even so, the most political observation in the entire film is the great quip from Kate McKinnon as the fictional Jess Carr quoted above. Although sexism and sexual harassment are by no means limited to conservative organizations, the extremely conservative views at Fox News, and its dictatorial, hierarchical, conservative power structure, surely contributed to the problem. I'm guessing the filmmakers didn't want to display Kelly's political views too much because they wanted her to be sympathetic. (The worst we hear in Bombshell of Kelly's actual statements is her ridiculous claim that Jesus was white.) Likewise, although Fox News can fairly be called a propaganda network in a way most major media outlets cannot, highlighting that and the deal-with-the-devil aspect of accepting fame and fortune to mislead to the American people risks making Kelly and Carlson less sympathetic. Depicting that type of moral complexity can be achieved, but not quickly or easily. Director Jay Roach is mostly known for comedy, and writer Charles Randolph justifiably shared an Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay for The Big Short. Bombshell isn't nearly as successful as that brilliant film, but it's still worth a look. Although it pulls its punches and largely avoids a critique of Fox News and its viewers, Bombshell does capture some dynamics of sexual harassment well and in a manner sympathetic to the victims. (I do wonder how much female input the filmmakers got, but one of the two credited producers is a woman, Dede Gardner.)
By the way, if you watch the Frontline episodes "American's Great Divide: From Obama to Trump," parts one and two, it's striking to see how Megyn Kelly, despite how badly she was treated at Fox News, will still spout party-line, conservative bullshit she must know to be false. I'm sympathetic to her over her treatment by Ailes and Fox News. But I was disappointed to see that some other things haven't changed.
Meanwhile, it's hard to review Bombshell without also mentioning the 2019 Showtime miniseries, The Loudest Voice, based on Gabriel Sherman's book of the same name. Overall, I much prefer The Loudest Voice, but to be fair, it's roughy 350 minutes long in all compared to Bombshell's 109 minutes. The Loudest Voice shows some footage of Megyn Kelly but she's not a major character, although Gretchen Carlson is. (She's played by Naomi Watts, who's incidentally friends with Nicole Kidman.) Bombshell is more tightly focused on sexual harassment and perhaps told more from the women's point of view. That's not to say that The Loudest Voice doesn't depict sexual harassment – it shows plenty of it, and makes us likewise sympathetic to the victimized women. (At least one repulsive scene really captures how a forced sexual act is more about power than the sex per se.) But The Loudest Voice is more a biopic of Roger Ailes, with a great lead performance by Russell Crowe. The series takes us through two decades of Ailes creating and running Fox News. It gives us much, much more of Ailes' politics and how the Fox News approach was extremely innovative, extremely manipulative, extremely conservative and extremely bad for America. It's a much more accurate and in-depth look at Fox News as a political entity and delves into its driving force, Roger Ailes and his paranoid, take-no-prisoners, absolutist psychology. As depicted, Ailes was a true believer in some far right, crazy ideas, like Obama being born in Kenya, but regardless of his personal views, he definitely shilled them relentlessly at Fox. He's basically Rush Limbaugh in his crazy, wingnut world view, but with less charisma and more brains. Ailes is a genuinely smart guy, a hard worker and a master operator, with an instinctive feel for what the conservative Fox News audience wants, because he is them. He's also ruthless, a far right ideologue, and one of the most influential and evil Americans of the past several decades. (Among other things, as the series shows, it's doubtful that Trump would have become president without Roger Ailes.) Crowe and the filmmakers make Ailes fascinating to watch. The supporting cast is quite good, with the aforementioned Watts, Simon McBurney as Rupert Murdoch, plus Sienna Miller, Annabelle Wallis, Seth McFarlane, Josh Stamberg, Aleksa Palladino and Emory Cohen. The Loudest Voice's greatest weakness is that many scenes are necessarily speculative, but enough firsthand accounts of Roger Ailes exist that those scenes ring true in addition to playing well.
Once Upon a Time in Hollywood: It's a Tarantino movie, and you'll get the usual: some good performances and great scenes, some extremely violent sequences, plus plenty of self-indulgence in an overly long film. We've given two storylines: the main one centers on Rick Dalton (Leonardo DiCaprio), a fading TV star who plays macho tough guys, and his stunt double and best friend, Cliff Booth (Brad Pitt). The second storyline is about Dalton's next-door neighbor, actress Sharon Tate (Margot Robbie), who lives with her celebrated director husband, Roman Polanski (Rafał Zawierucha), although he's barely in the movie. Dalton wants to be more respected as an actor and is anxious about his declining career, leading to bouts of insecurity. Booth is extremely easy-going and thus a good balance for Dalton; Booth also drives Dalton around LA because Dalton lost his license for driving under the influence. Some of the best scenes involve Dalton struggling on the set of a TV western, which includes several interesting exchanges between him and a very mature, serious child actress played by Julia Butters. Booth gives a ride to a young female hitchhiker who lives at… Spahn Ranch, because she's a member of the Manson "family" cult. Meanwhile, we follow Sharon Tate around town as she attends parties, chats with friends and watches a movie she's in.
DiCaprio and Pitt are good both individually and together, with DiCaprio getting to swing between deep emotional extremes over the course of the movie and Pitt mainly oozing effortless charisma. Margot Robbie seems wasted, though, because we don't really get to know Sharon Tate well. She's pretty (and coveted by men) and seems nice, if sometimes to the point of naïveté. But she's often shown alone and thus not speaking with anyone. We barely see any of her relationship with Roman Polanski, which seems like an odd narrative choice, and I'm guessing is because he's currently a controversial figure. Tarantino seems more interested in Sharon Tate as a symbol and icon than a real person.
As for the rest, the film is bizarrely critical of Bruce Lee (Mike Moh), portraying him as arrogant, which doesn't seem accurate at all (and has been disputed – and come on, you may be a good fighter, but you ain't beating Bruce Lee). Tarantino has figured out you can be extremely, gratuitously violent and the audience will cheer if you pick really nasty targets. Tarantino does get some notable actors in small roles, with Al Pacino and Bruce Dern being particularly good. I like parts of Tarantino's films (and I'd say Pulp Fiction is still his best and most innovative), but I do think he's massively overhyped and uncritically worshipped in some quarters. (For example, OUATIH is engaging enough, and I can understand it on some top 10 lists, but I do question picking it as the absolute best film of the year over Parasite or a few others. But alternative history fantasies that aren't comedies also seem a bit pointless to me.) All that said, Once Upon a Time in Hollywood has some great and memorable scenes, and if you're a fan of Tarantino, DiCaprio, or Pitt, you'll want to check it out.
Uncut Gems: Adam Sandler gives a good performance as a thoroughly unlikeable character, Howard Ratner, a jeweler in New York City who tries to cater to the rich and famous but also has a really bad gambling habit. It's 2010, and Howard sometimes lives in the city with his younger girlfriend and employee, Julia (Julia Fox), and sometimes in the suburbs with his wife Dinah (Idina Menzel) and their kids; they're supposed to get a divorce after Passover. Howard obtains a rare black opal, the uncut gem of the title, which has an interesting rainbow effect. Howard's spent a long time and considerable money obtaining it. Howard's employee Demany (Lakeith Stanfield) is mainly paid to bring in high-profile clientele, and arrives with none other than basketball star Kevin Garnett (playing himself during his NBA days). Howard can't resist showing off the opal, which Garnett loves and wants to buy, but it's already slotted for auction. Garnett insists on borrowing it for good luck and offers his Celtics championship ring as collateral. Meanwhile, Howard owes a ton of money to a loan shark, Arno (Eric Bogosian), who happens to be his brother-in-law. So Howard starts out in plenty of trouble, tries to gamble his way out of debt, and will lie shamelessly to anyone and everyone. He has a few moments of decency, I suppose, but he's an awful husband, father and boss, a jealous boyfriend and is almost unrelentingly selfish, using everyone around him. The film also looks shot on video, especially in the early scenes, although apparently it was shot on 35 mm film by notable cinematographer Darius Khondji. It's mostly high-key lighting and not his usual moody, noir-ish style at all, but give the camerawork credit for helping create a sense of urgency.
Although I didn't like Howard Ratner much, I did find Uncut Gems became more interesting as it progressed. It plays as a thriller much of the time, and it does make some unconventional and interesting story choices, so it's not a cookie cutter film. Kevin Garnett plays a surprisingly large role in the film and is also surprisingly good, especially in a late scene between him and Howard. And as self-absorbed as Howard is, he has one of his more gracious moments late in the film, not long before the extended, climatic sequence. Howard's master scheme is risky and gutsy, but it's hard not to root for him during it, and it makes for a pretty riveting piece of cinema. (It also took considerable ingenuity by the filmmakers, writer Ronald Bronstein and cowriters and codirectors Josh and Benny Safdie.) Uncut Gems is one of the most divisive films of 2019 – I've encountered people who loathed it and others who adored it. The Weeknd plays a small role as himself, Judd Hirsh plays Howard's father-in-law, and Keith Williams Richards is memorable as Phil, the most violent and menacing of Arno's henchmen. More in the… (SPOILERS)
I debated the believability of the ending, with Howard opening the security door to let in Arno, Phil and Nico. Howard gets shot and killed, of course, and I bought Phil's action, but Howard opening the door seemed unusually risky if not idiotic. I think it was somewhat plausible in that, in that moment, he's achieved the greatest gambling victory of his life and has literally beat the odds. He's gone from serious danger to (he thinks at least) safety. He's absolutely ecstatic, plus clearly he can pay Arno back now, so why would anyone possibly kill him? Arno has even shifted to cheering him on. But it does betray a lack of understanding about human nature and specifically not comprehending Phil's character. Phil's expressed his hatred of Howard and is not a rational guy. Howard would have been better off letting them leave through the outside door and promising to drop off the money later – he doesn't even have it yet. But I think his fatal error is somewhat understandable. Phil killing Arno is similarly rash but also seemed plausible, given how far Phil has gone. The film has some minor story bits I liked, for instance, Howard's earlier gambling, where he follows his bets in the car, goes extremely well, which is not what usually happens in gambling addict stories. So the cliché would be that he loses money and gets deeper in the hole; instead, Howard wins, or would have won, but Arno stops the bet, which is why Howard's still in peril for most of the movie.
(If the spoiler button isn't working, you can read the spoiler text here.)
The King: The main reason to see The King is Timothée Chalamet, an interesting young actor, as England's beloved Prince Hal/Henry V, a potentially meaty role. The film itself is neither fish nor fowl – it strays considerably from history but it's also not really an adaptation of William Shakespeare's plays, either. It includes Shakespeare's invention, Falstaff, but changes him from a comic, boozing, cowardly but larger-than-life character to a sober, quietly courageous, war-weary, wise, and low-key veteran soldier. (He's played by Australian actor Joel Edgerton, who cowrote the script with the director, Australian David Michôd.) The film likewise has Hal face off with Hotspur, who did exist, but their confrontation is likewise an invention by Shakespeare, from Henry IV, Part 1. That's fine, because it makes for some good scenes. The film borrows the most from Henry V – the French Dauphin (Robert Pattinson) sends Hal a tennis ball as an insult, and eventually we get to the main event, the 1415 Battle of Agincourt. But the movie also oddly invents an assassination attempt on Hal, and presents it as the main reason for the reluctant young king to invade France, which contrasts markedly with Shakespeare's Hal, who's eager to seize back France and happy for a pretext. (The King also invents another complicated conspiracy.)
Take The King solely on its own merits and it's somewhat interesting; consider other options and it's more disappointing. As the Dauphin, Pattinson's accent plays a bit comically, which could work for a stage version of Henry V but does not seem to be intentional for the more serious tone here. (Pattinson's somewhat effective in that he's smarmy and unlikeable.) It was nice to see some mud in the Agincourt sequence, but it's presented as the making-you-slip kind rather than the historical accounts' we-have-to-wade-through-this-crap type. That's perfectly fine, but the point is that the filmmakers make a series of choices that aren't that interesting compared to existing alternatives from Shakespeare, history and cinema. I was hoping for a good Battle of Agincourt, which would have forgiven a host of sins, but it's not staged that well. The invented conspiracies of The King make Hal a bit of a dupe and thus less interesting. Edgerton gives a decent performance as Falstaff, but almost completely inverting the character and writing him for yourself to play feels like a vanity exercise. So if you're familiar with any of the source material and watch The King, you'll probably find yourself asking yourself often, what's the point? Why have Falstaff at all, if you're not going to do Shakespeare? Why depict the Battle of Agincourt, a pretty interesting clash, if it's not going to be frickin' awesome? Kenneth Branagh's 1989 film version of Henry V is one of the great Shakespeare adaptations, but it's also simply a great film, with a stunning climatic battle sequence despite a small budget. And it turns out that Shakespeare wrote Hal as a much more intriguing character than Michôd and Edgerton can muster for The King. I don't want to completely bash the film, because if you're a Chalamet fan and don't care much about the history or Shakespeare you'll probably enjoy it much more than I did. But my primary response is: Henry V is a much, much better film, and unless you're completely turned off by Shakespeare, watch it instead.
Motherless Brooklyn: If you're a big fan of Jonathan Lethem's 1999 novel, Motherless Brooklyn, which won the National Book Critics Circle Award, you might not like this adaptation. Writer, director and star Edward Norton keeps the lead character, the inciting incident and some plot devices, but throws away the main plot and invents a substantially new one with new characters, even moving the story from 1999 to the 1950s. (Lethem gave Norton permission to make changes, at least.) In the new story, a key character, Moses Randolph (Alec Baldwin), is based on the real-life Robert Moses, a New York City public official with multiple titles who significantly reshaped the urban landscape, developing public works but also eliminating some neighborhoods, especially minority ones. Basically, Norton is trying to make Chinatown but for New York City, weaving some fictionalized real history into a film noir. (There's a bit of Devil in a Blue Dress, too.)
The protagonist of Motherless Brooklyn is Lionel Essrog (Norton), who along with most of his coworkers was an orphan essentially adopted by Frank Minna (Bruce Willis), who runs a detective agency. Lionel has Tourette syndrome and his tics and verbal outbursts get worse with distress. He also possesses a remarkable memory, though, and can recall everything he's seen and entire conversations verbatim. His tics unsettle many of the people he meets, but Frank finds Lionel's gifts useful for their detective work and has always been kind to him; he's a father figure. Frank asks Lionel and another employee, Gilbert, to serve as a backup for a meeting with unknown people with seemingly powerful connections. The upshot is that Frank winds up dead, and Lionel is determined to find out whodunnit. His condition makes him both ill- and well-suited for the task.
Norton's invented story takes over from there. Lionel meets some interesting people on his quest for the truth, most notably Laura Rose (Gugu Mbatha-Raw), who works for Gabby Horowitz (Cherry Jones), one of the people fighting against Moses Randolph to protect minority neighborhoods. A neighborhood gadfly named Paul (Willem Dafoe) seems to know all the local history and behind-the-scenes deals. Michael K. Williams plays a jazz musician identified only as "Trumpet Man" in the credits, who seems loosely based Miles Davis for both his talent and general social outlook. Bobby Cannavale is Tony Vermonte, the most ambitious and probably sleaziest of Lionel's coworkers, who effectively takes over the detective agency; Leslie Mann plays Julia, Frank's widow. Credit Edward Norton for assembling a fine cast, who all give good performances, with Gugu Mbatha-Raw a standout. I had mixed feelings about the film – Norton is a good actor, but at times the entire venture, including his desire to play a disabled character, feels like an enormous vanity project with shades of the Hollywood stars satirized in Tropic Thunder. Given that Norton largely abandoned the source material, I'd have preferred that he title his film something else instead. Some of his choices are engaging; others felt too tidy. It might be interesting to watch the film again with Norton's commentary and any behind-the-scenes disc extras. (Lastly, Radiohead's Thom Yorke wrote a moody, original song for the movie, "Daily Battles," which I quite liked and thought fit the movie, even if it was a bit anachronistic. It made the initial nomination list of 15 for Best Original Song but unfortunately did not make the final shortlist of 5.)
Godzilla: King of the Monsters: I always want more kaiju fighting and less humans jabbering. Some of the monster shots are cool (they're called "titans" instead of kaiju in the film) and this latest American Godzilla flick features a pretty impressive human cast, particularly Ken Watanabe, Bradley Whitford, Sally Hawkins, Zhang Ziyi and David Strathairn, rounded out by Millie Bobbie Brown, Vera Farmiga, Kyle Chandler, Charles Dance and Thomas Middleditch. The plot, such as it is, involves radicals who want to awaken the dread "Monster Zero" to restore balance to the Earth… by killing tons of humans, I guess, and only Godzilla can save the day. The film does not remotely sell such villain rationalizations as well-intentioned and plausible, but really, we just need any excuse for some big monster battles. Kyle Chandler's a decent actor, but I got a little sick of the filmmakers having him constantly kaiju-'spaining to the one Japanese guy, supposed expert Dr. Ishiro Serizawa (Ken Watanabe). At least Watanabe's given a fine scene later. It's nice to see Zhang Ziyi again, but her character supposedly has been studying the titans for years but seemingly uncovers key information through a quick, casual web search instead. The film makes at least one bizarre jump, skipping over the good guys discovering a crucial development and cutting right to them pursuing the bad guys. The film also just runs out of ideas and repeats itself in key beats (more in the spoilers). The different monster promotion posters and early trailers were great, but the movie itself is less engaging. The 2014 Godzilla directed by Gareth Edwards (reviewed here) remains a better American Godzilla flick, but I do credit this latest film, like its predecessor, for creating some sense of wonder about the kaiju/titans/monsters, and it is fun to see Rodan, Mothra and King Ghidorah, along with the lovable Gojira/Godzilla. (SPOILERS)
A human is about to be killed by the big bad monster and then is saved at the last moment by Godzilla not once, not twice, but at least three friggin' times. That's not just lazy writing, it's bad directing, which robs the later moments of suspense.
(If the spoiler button isn't working, you can read the spoiler text here.)
The Laundromat: I appreciate director Steven Soderbergh's prodigious output and willingness to experiment, but the quality of his films can vary wildly and sometimes I wish he'd slow down and develop a script more. The Laundromat is ambitious, essentially trying to be The Big Short but focusing on the so-called Panama papers, which exposed how rich individuals and corporations hide and launder money in offshore accounts to avoid paying taxes and other obligations. The movie boasts an impressive cast, most notably Gary Oldman and Antonio Banderas as suave, rich businessmen who explain to the audience how the crooked system works, and Meryl Streep and James Cromwell as victims of a tragedy, with justice blocked by a series of shell companies and semi-legal financial skullduggery. The film also mixes in the tale of Simone (Jessica Allain), who uncovers her rich African father's infidelity and is bribed with questionable assets, a Chinese money laundering scheme featuring some dark threats, and a shady German conglomerate. The result is a bit of a mess, with some interesting scenes and scenarios that never really build to a unified whole, further marred by a didactic approach in the home stretch. The Laundromat's heart is in the right place, but pulling off something as brilliant as The Big Short (reviewed here) is extremely difficult. It demands understanding tricky material and somehow explaining and it making it cinematic; it requires taking a global scandal and crafting a coherent narrative with actual characters; it begs for a satirical outlook at times but also human depth. The Laundromat deserves some points for ambition, but the project feels rushed and woefully, glaringly underdeveloped. Given the team involved, it's disappointing that no one seemed to notice.
Booksmart: Two studious, high-achieving high school seniors who have sacrificed fun discover right before graduation, to their shock, that several of their seemingly slacker classmates are actually pretty smart and going to prestigious schools. Feeling they've been missing out, they become determined to have a wild night and live it up before the graduation ceremony. It's a good premise with plenty of comedic potential, especially because they're such novices at acting out. Molly (Beanie Feldstein) is more brash and outgoing; Amy (Kaitlyn Dever) is shy, a lesbian and inexperienced. The actresses sell the goofball camaraderie of the duo and also their occasional clashes. Actress Olivia Wilde does a nice job in her feature directorial debut, and surely it helped to have a female director and four female writers for a female-centered teen flick. I enjoyed Booksmart, but it suffered for me from being overhyped and because a few key scenes (a fight with witnesses, the actual graduation) felt pretty conventional, in contrast with the more authentic and interesting friendship at the film's core. It's a good high-school buddy, coming-of-age movie and worth seeing. But I've enjoyed other films in this genre much more, including 2017's Lady Bird (reviewed here, and also with Beanie Feldstein) and 2007's Superbad (the sixth film reviewed here, and interestingly starring Feldstein's older brother, Jonah Hill). Your mileage definitely may vary on that front, though, and I imagine some viewers will like Booksmart best of those three.
Today is International Holocaust Remembrance Day, which marks the anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz. It's the 75th anniversary this year.
Fresh Air's episode for the occasion features two good older interviews: a 2005 one with Laurence Rees on his book, Auschwitz: A New History, and an 1988 interview with Holocaust survivor and author Elie Wiesel, who died in 2016. The PBS NewsHour segment, "The lessons of Auschwitz, 75 years after its liberation," features some survivors revisiting the camp and some striking memories. The United States Holocaust Memorial Museum website has an excellent primer on Auschwitz and other resources. (Going through the museum's permanent exhibit is a powerful experience.)
Although a solely historical post might be appropriate today, it feels more pressing to note current events. Hate crimes are on the rise in some areas, and the number of high-profile hate crimes in recent years is troubling. The Anti-Defamation League (ADL) tracks anti-Semitic incidents. The Southern Poverty Law Center has a more general "hatewatch" page, and both organizations maintain "hate maps." FBI statistics for 2019 hate crimes aren't available yet, but the website has information from1995 through 2018, and as CNN summarizes, the 2018 report "collected data from 110 fewer agencies" but "found that 7,120 hate crime incidents were reported by law enforcement agencies to the FBI in 2018, just 55 fewer than had been reported in 2017. Between 2016 and 2017, the FBI found a 17% increase in reported incidents." Besides raw numbers, though, it's the overall efforts to intimidate marginalized groups that's disturbing.
The number of anti-Semitic hate crimes recorded by authorities in Los Angeles has now doubled, thanks in part to those changes. But the rising numbers also mirror a trend seen in cities across the United States. A coming report from the Center for the Study of Hate and Extremism at California State University, San Bernardino, shows that anti-Semitic hate crimes in New York, Los Angeles and Chicago — the nation’s three largest cities — are poised to hit an 18-year peak.
"It is something not seen in many years," said Brian Levin, the report’s lead author, referring to the fact that Jews in those three cities are now targeted as frequently as gay men and African-Americans in hate crimes. The report, which uses the most recent official police data, found that Jews in all three cities are being targeted at the highest numbers seen since 2001. . . .
"A substantial proportion of these hate crimes involve brutal physical attacks on Orthodox Jews who are easily identifiable,” Mr. Levin said. “Today anti-Semitism and ignorance about the Holocaust has simply become broadly acceptable, and that is reflected in the increasing number of assaults and a diversity of offenders, who now also tend to be older." . . .
[During Hanukkah], a man was charged with a hate crime in the stabbing of five Jews in Monsey, N.Y., at the home of a rabbi, and a gun battle at a kosher market in Jersey City, N.J., left three people inside the store and a police officer dead.
Added to that picture of bigotry, the Trump administration tried several times to institute a "Muslim ban," a measure with dangerous historical precedents, and finally succeeded in June 2018. The ACLU, which has a good collection of personal stories of living with the Muslim ban, reports that the Trump administration is seeking to expand the Muslim ban, but also that Speaker of House Nancy Pelosi is introducing a "NO BAN Act" to reverse the Trump measures. (Not that the current, Republican-controlled Senate will approve the bill.) It's also worth revisiting Josh Marshall's July 2016 piece, "A Propagator of Race Hatred and Violence," about Trump falsely, grotesquely claiming that American Muslims cheered the 9/11 attacks and the World Trade Center falling. As Marshall notes, "authoritarian figures require violence and disorder," and Trump has made other statements that are "the kind of wild racist incitement that puts whole societies in danger."
"What's required is a little bit of demystification of it," says Waitman Wade Beorn, a Holocaust and genocide studies historian and a lecturer at the University of Virginia. "Things can be concentration camps without being Dachau or Auschwitz. Concentration camps in general have always been designed—at the most basic level—to separate one group of people from another group. Usually, because the majority group, or the creators of the camp, deem the people they're putting in it to be dangerous or undesirable in some way."
The awful conditions in the camps are not accidental. Trump has a long history of racism and started his campaign with a racist tirade against Mexicans. At least one of his staffers, Senior Policy Advisor Stephen Miller, is an extreme bigot and a driving force on Trump's immigration policies. As Adam Serwer has observed of the Trump administration as a whole, the cruelty is the point.
Finally, who can forget the "Unite the Right" rally of neo-Nazis and other white supremacists in Charlottesville, VA in August 2017, an alarming demonstration that lead to the murder of counterprotester Heather Heyer? Trump initially condemned the rally, but he just couldn't stick to that script, and a mere one day later, went on to claim that "there's blame on both sides" and "very fine people on both sides." Later indignant claims by Trump and his supporters that he wasn't calling neo-Nazis and other white supremacists "very fine people" were far from convincing.
Trump, his administration and his supporters are far from the only problem. The United States has never been free of bigotry – slavery, as well as the killing and displacement of Native Americans, are central to our history. Institutionalized, systemic bigotry persists even without conscious, active support. But it does feel as if some of the progress of the past several decades has been rolled back, or at least that what had been underground is now increasingly out in the open. Barack Obama and his family were subjected to an alarming amount of despicable, racist attacks. And whatever Trump and his team think of themselves, black Americans overwhelmingly view Trump as racist and white supremacists think Trump is one of their own.
Most acts of evil don't rise to the level of genocide. But genocide always has precursors, none of which are ever positive and none of which should ever go unchallenged. Some Holocaust comparisons are appropriate. Most importantly, there's never a bad time to oppose bigotry and cruelty.
Update:: The New York Times reports that the Trump administration has issued press credentials to:
TruNews, a website aimed at conservative Christians whose founder, a pastor named Rick Wiles, recently described Trump’s impeachment as "a Jew coup" planned by "a Jewish cabal." . . .
TruNews, which Wiles founded as an online radio program in 1999 called America’s Hope, has a history of spreading conspiracy theories and proclaiming an imminent apocalypse. It drew more scrutiny in November after Wiles, in an online video, accused Jews of orchestrating Trump’s impeachment.
"That’s the way Jews work," Wiles said. "They are deceivers. They plot, they lie, they do whatever they have to do to accomplish their political agenda. This ‘Impeach Trump’ movement is a Jew coup, and the American people better wake up to it really fast."
Wiles also warned his listeners that "when Jews take over a country, they kill millions of Christians."
Afterward, Rep. Ted Deutch of Florida and Elaine Luria of Virginia wrote to the White House asking why TruNews had been allowed to attend presidential events. They did not receive a response.
In contrast, the Trump administration has banned CNN in the past and Trump's state department has recently banned NPR, most likely in an act of petulant retaliation. Apparently, the Trump administration views those organizations as a threat, but nominally Christian, far-right, anti-Semitic groups are welcome.
It's Martin Luther King Jr. Day, and given the recent and familiar saber-rattling we've been hearing, this time agitating for a war with Iran, it seems like a good time to visit King's speech, "Beyond Vietnam." He delivered it at Riverside Church in New York City on April 4, 1967, a year before he was assassinated. The Martin Luther King, Jr. Research and Education Institute has the text and audio, and it's nice to listen to his sonorous cadences. King took a significant risk in pushing back against concerns about political caution and instead spoke his conscience. Some of the references are very much tied to the era, but others remain all too timely.
I come to this platform tonight to make a passionate plea to my beloved nation. This speech is not addressed to Hanoi or to the National Liberation Front. It is not addressed to China or to Russia. Nor is it an attempt to overlook the ambiguity of the total situation and the need for a collective solution to the tragedy of Vietnam. Neither is it an attempt to make North Vietnam or the National Liberation Front paragons of virtue, nor to overlook the role they must play in the successful resolution of the problem. While they both may have justifiable reasons to be suspicious of the good faith of the United States, life and history give eloquent testimony to the fact that conflicts are never resolved without trustful give and take on both sides. Tonight, however, I wish not to speak with Hanoi and the National Liberation Front, but rather to my fellow Americans.
Since I am a preacher by calling, I suppose it is not surprising that I have seven major reasons for bringing Vietnam into the field of my moral vision. There is at the outset a very obvious and almost facile connection between the war in Vietnam and the struggle I and others have been waging in America. A few years ago there was a shining moment in that struggle. It seemed as if there was a real promise of hope for the poor, both black and white, through the poverty program. There were experiments, hopes, new beginnings. Then came the buildup in Vietnam, and I watched this program broken and eviscerated as if it were some idle political plaything on a society gone mad on war. And I knew that America would never invest the necessary funds or energies in rehabilitation of its poor so long as adventures like Vietnam continued to draw men and skills and money like some demonic, destructive suction tube. So I was increasingly compelled to see the war as an enemy of the poor and to attack it as such.
Perhaps a more tragic recognition of reality took place when it became clear to me that the war was doing far more than devastating the hopes of the poor at home. It was sending their sons and their brothers and their husbands to fight and to die in extraordinarily high proportions relative to the rest of the population. We were taking the black young men who had been crippled by our society and sending them eight thousand miles away to guarantee liberties in Southeast Asia which they had not found in southwest Georgia and East Harlem. So we have been repeatedly faced with the cruel irony of watching Negro and white boys on TV screens as they kill and die together for a nation that has been unable to seat them together in the same schools. So we watch them in brutal solidarity burning the huts of a poor village, but we realize that they would hardly live on the same block in Chicago. I could not be silent in the face of such cruel manipulation of the poor.
My third reason moves to an even deeper level of awareness, for it grows out of my experience in the ghettos of the North over the last three years, especially the last three summers. As I have walked among the desperate, rejected, and angry young men, I have told them that Molotov cocktails and rifles would not solve their problems. I have tried to offer them my deepest compassion while maintaining my conviction that social change comes most meaningfully through nonviolent action. But they asked, and rightly so, “What about Vietnam?” They asked if our own nation wasn’t using massive doses of violence to solve its problems, to bring about the changes it wanted. Their questions hit home, and I knew that I could never again raise my voice against the violence of the oppressed in the ghettos without having first spoken clearly to the greatest purveyor of violence in the world today: my own government. For the sake of those boys, for the sake of this government, for the sake of the hundreds of thousands trembling under our violence, I cannot be silent.
For those who ask the question, “Aren’t you a civil rights leader?” and thereby mean to exclude me from the movement for peace, I have this further answer. In 1957, when a group of us formed the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, we chose as our motto: “To save the soul of America.” We were convinced that we could not limit our vision to certain rights for black people, but instead affirmed the conviction that America would never be free or saved from itself until the descendants of its slaves were loosed completely from the shackles they still wear. In a way we were agreeing with Langston Hughes, that black bard of Harlem, who had written earlier:
O, yes, I say it plain,
America never was America to me,
And yet I swear this oath—
America will be!
Now it should be incandescently clear that no one who has any concern for the integrity and life of America today can ignore the present war. If America’s soul becomes totally poisoned, part of the autopsy must read “Vietnam.” It can never be saved so long as it destroys the deepest hopes of men the world over. So it is that those of us who are yet determined that “America will be” are led down the path of protest and dissent, working for the health of our land.
Digby has featured this speech before, emphasizing other good passages – it's full of them. And The New Yorker has a good piece from 2017 giving more background on crafting the speech and the political costs King knew it would incur. (It also covers John Lewis' memories of the speech.)
I appreciate that King linked war, and basically imperialism, to issues of class, race and lost opportunities in America. He received backlash for the speech, even though some passages of it are simpatico with that noted political radical, Dwight Eisenhower, who in 1953 asserted that "Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired signifies, in the final sense, a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed. This world in arms is not spending money alone. It is spending the sweat of its laborers, the genius of its scientists, the hopes of its children." King emphasized race much more, of course, which surely made some of his white audience uncomfortable. And many of his points unfortunately remain all too pertinent.
In the questions for this election cycle's primary debates and in political chatter in general, we're essentially told that war, and all military spending, is free. According to conservatives, tax cuts and other giveaways to the rich and powerful are free as well or otherwise a national boon, and such largess will theoretically trickle down to we the peons. Apparently, it's only health care, and other domestic programs that could benefit the overwhelming majority of Americans, that cost money and need to be interrogated. Perhaps some wars are indeed necessary, yet the same people most likely to recklessly agitate for them typically argue against even the possibility of new or better social programs domestically. "I could not be silent in the face of such cruel manipulation of the poor," said King. He wasn't fully appreciated in his lifetime, and his willingness to link the civil rights struggle to challenging other pervasive, oppressive notions is still not fully acknowledged now. As Cornel West put it, we should resist the "Santa Claus-ification" of King; it would be vanity to suppose we've already learned all he has to teach us.
