Review – Page 187 – We Are Movie Geeks

PAPA: HEMINGWAY IN CUBA – Review

The fact-inspired film PAPA: HEMINGWAY IN CUBA is a prime example of why a good director matters. As some sage once said, “If it was easy, everyone would do it.”

The film is first American film shot in Cuba since Castro’s 1959 revolution, and there is so degree of thrill in seeing Hemingway’s home and the actual locations he frequented. In fact, the story takes place in 1959, with true-story basis loaded with dramatic potential. Sadly, producer-turned -director Bob Yari fails to put to good use to those elements, along with a strong cast. Only the most determined Hemingway devotees will get much out of Yari’s dull, pedestrian film.

Giovanni Ribisi plays young newspaperman Ed Myers (a stand-in for the real journalist Denne Bart Petitclerc, on whose memoir of his friendship with Hemingway the story is based). Ed writes a fan letter of sorts to his idol Hemingway, whom he credits with inspiring him as a writer, but loses nerve about sending it. His co-worker girlfriend Deb (Minka Kelly) finds the discarded letter and mails it to the author anyway. Shockingly, Hemingway (Adrian Sparks) calls the young writer at work – which Myers at first assumes is a prank. Once convinced the call is genuine, Myers accepts Hemingway’s invitation to visit him in Cuba for some fishing. A friendship is launched, as the legendary author begins to mentor the young journalist he calls Eddie or just “kid,” and Myers, who grew up in an orphanage, finds a father figure in the man everyone calls Papa.

Adrian Sparks, who also played Hemingway on stage, has an amazing resemblance to the author and does an uncanny job impersonating him. Ribisi is a bit old to play the young journalist but still manages to capture the right sense of youthful awe anyway. In fact, all the acting is good. Joely Richardson is also fine as Hemingway’s wife Mary, a former journalist who harbors a bit of resentment at being overshadowed by her famous husband. Minka Kelly has a rather thankless role as Myer’s girlfriend, stuck in the 1950s gender role of quietly pining for marriage, a part that reminds one a bit of Grace Kelly’s role in Hitchcock’s “Rear Window.”

The true story-based subject offered a wealth of material for an interesting, though-provoking film, all of which Yari leaves unused. The Hemingway that the young journalist finds fulfills his best and worst expectations of the legend’s masculine image. The film briefly, obliquely, raises the idea of famous people adopting the persona expected of them as a public mask behind which the real person hides – but then never pursues it. In hard-drinking scenes, hostility and ego surface between husband and wife, again a subject skimmed but never explored in depth.

As a long-time producer, Yari worked on such projects as “Crash,” “The Painted Veil” and “The Illusionist.” This is only his second directorial effort, the first being a 1989 thriller titled “Mind Games.” Yari also served as producer on “Papa” but clearly should have hired a more experienced, and skilled, director to helm the film. Set in a remarkable time and place, and story involving striking historic figures – not just Hemingway, but FBI director J. Edgar Hoover, mobster Santo Trafficante, and Cuba dictator Batista (to say nothing of revolutionaries Fidel Castro and Che Guevara), how could this not be an interesting film? In other hands, this could have been an excellent exploration of fame or its unique time, an insightful drama or even a taut thriller. Instead, it is mostly just dull.

As the first Hollywood film shot in Cuba in over 50 years, the locations shots could have been the saving grace of this movie. There is a certain thrill in seeing exterior and interior scenes shot at Hemingway’s actual home, now a museum, and famous Havana locations. The film does look gorgeous, and seeing the Havana streets and all those ’50s cars is a treat. The Cuban locations should at least have given the film an authentic sense of time and place, but again Yari fails to impart that. Instead, the film looks like it could have been shot in Florida or even California. After a brief teaser scene early on, the Cuban revolution is reduced to a backdrop for Hemingway’s personal story and a plot device to get him out of Cuba. Every scene looks a bit too bright, a bit too pretty and color-drenched, for the dramatic events unfolding. The actors do their best, but the plodding, unimaginative direction reduces the film to a dull docu-drama, instead of the searing, insightful drama of a unique time, place, and iconic individuals that it could have been.

The source material is so good, that one has to wish a real director will give it another shot, especially with Adrian Sparks in the Hemingway role again. That’s unlikely, especially with the same access to Cuban locations, but one can always dream.

PAPA: HEMINGWAY IN CUBA opens on April 29th, 2016

OVERALL RATING: 3 OUT OF 5 STARS

KEANU – Review

When you are given a film starring Jordan Peele, Keegan-Michael Key, and an adorable kitten, you should know what to expect. The comedic dynamic duo rose to fame following MADtv with their own series on Comedy Central – Key & Peele. Following a pre-recorded sketch comedy format, the show was able to examine and poke fun at social stereotypes, with stand-up segments peppered in where they frequently pointed out how nerdy and non-black they are in real life. This idea… along with a cute kitten, of course… is KEANU. Though the title might be a not so subtle wink at the audience who are familiar with the “Woah!” action star of the same name, the film seems to stay more in the nerdy guys who aren’t good at being black wheelhouse; something that Key and Peele excel at, but a crutch that fans of the series (like myself) have seen them comfortably rest on many times before.

In a twist of fate, a kitten who escapes a gang shoot-out shows up at the door of Rell (Jordan Peele) after his girlfriend just broke up with him. Of course, Rell immediately becomes infatuated with the cat that he names Keanu. However, the sunny times turn to rain when Rell’s apartment is broken into one stormy night and Keanu is taken. It’s now up to Rell and his buttoned-up best friend Clarence (Keegan-Michael Key) to retrieve Keanu from a local gang called the Blips.

Just as it sounds, they have to drop the nice guy act and are forced into a world where they clearly don’t fit in. It’s a true comedy of errors as Rell and Clarence have to toughen up, making up stories about doing backflips up walls in shoot-outs, showing off battle scars, and being coerced into leading a drug sale. Their inept posturing is frequently hilarious in the moment, even if it’s absurdly implausible. Although the theme of these jokes is consistently the same, Key and Peele sell them so well with their precise timing and spot-on delivery.

The film goes from one situation to the next. It’s a fairly fluid transition between skits, but it clearly feels like each scene ends with a setup to the next: a drug dealer’s house leads to a strip club, which leads to the leader’s lair, and so on and so on. Where their journey of incompetence comes to a screeching halt is when they arrive at the Hollywood home of a famous actress (with that said actress playing herself). Rell is forced to enter the home and lead the drug sale while Clarence is back at the car with members of the gang. Aside from the scene getting uncomfortably violent in a way that seems out of place, the exchange of banter goes on for far too long as you impatiently wait for the exchange of the drugs and money. It’s definitely not as funny as the sing-along that takes place back in the car, where several gang members learn the importance of “Faith.”

Though audiences will no doubt pine for more screen time with the adorable kitty, the other two stars of the film are just as entertaining even when they are selling material that doesn’t feel quite that fresh. KEANU doesn’t do much more than you’re expecting – in fact, maybe it delivers slightly less. With the reference to Keanu Reeves, a visual nod to Liam Neeson (“Liam Neesons is my shit!”), and the fact that fans of the show know how much they love “Bruce Willy,” KEANU rarely plays or pokes fun at the action tropes found in the films of these actors. Instead, Key and Peele play comfortably in their “we’re so bad at being black” playground. Between the popularity of skits from the show being shared online and the public’s love of cute cuddly cats, KEANU, for better or for worse, is manufactured for the Youtube generation to love.

Overall rating: 3 out of 5

KEANU is now playing in theaters everywhere

GREEN ROOM – Review

There’s an exchange in the classic Howard Hawks western RIO BRAVO: “I told him you were one of the best,” and the other man responds with, “Well, I’ll tell you what I’m a lot better at, Mr. Wheeler, and that’s minding my own business.” If only the band in GREEN ROOM followed the lesson imparted by Colorado Ryan. I mention both of these films, along with the John Carpenter film ASSAULT ON PRECINCT 13 (which was inspired by RIO BRAVO), because they all exist as siege films – a small group is barricaded in a single location and fights for their life against overwhelming obstacles. It’s an exciting subgenre that director Jeremy Saulnier centers the main conflict around, but diverts from by not having someone trained to deal with hostility like John Wayne or even Bruce Willis like in DIE HARD. Who he places on both sides of the battle is why GREEN ROOM is as hard hitting and terrifying as it is.

A punk band who struggles to get by while on tour stops at a hole in the wall dive in the middle of Oregon looking to play a gig. After they play their set, the group sees something that they shouldn’t have, which leads the owner of the club Darcy (Patrick Stewart) and his Neo-Nazi followers to take matters into their own hands. Maybe the band shouldn’t have opened their set with a cover of Dead Kennedys’ “Nazi Punks Fuck Off.”

When the violence penetrates GREEN ROOM, it cuts with the sharpest knife you can imagine. Violence isn’t glorified as much as it’s presented in a matter-of-fact manner. It’s quick and abrasive, causing you to barely catch your breath as you struggle to process what you just witnessed. GREEN ROOM isn’t just about the violence, but it might be the first thing you think about as your stomach turns leaving the theater. There’s more to chew on though than the impressive practical effects on screen.

The band of young actors led by Anton Yelchin and later joined by Imogen Poots are naturals at being kids. Sure, they aren’t the smartest guys in the room, but they aren’t making obnoxiously stupid decisions either like some might in a slasher film. The same passion and energy that drives their music are what fuels them to survive. Who is just as natural in his role is Patrick Stewart. I guess being the soft-spoken, smart, nice old man in most films got a little stale for him. So, he plays the soft-spoken, smart, evil old man. There’s a level of self-restraint that Stewart employs that might be frustrating for some. However, I found his calm but assertive delivery to be uncomfortably chilling – especially since audiences are used to seeing him on and off screen in quite a different light.

A colleague of mine informed me that some other critics he spoke to saw the lack of backstory for the main antagonist and his followers as a hindrance to the story. Saulnier has a way of immersing the audience in an experience by developing a fully realized world, coated with an authentic layer of graffiti and grime. He did this previously with BLUE RUIN. Yet, both films are about situations. He throws you into a film with characters and just enough information for you to have an emotional connection to get your blood pumping when the blood on the screen starts spurting. GREEN ROOM is a lean and mean machine that hits hard without unnecessary exposition. It’s a thriller that thrives on placing you in this nerve-racking situation. Any more superfluous information might make these helpless victims and horrific monsters feel less human and more like characters on the screen.

For me, two of the most terrifying things are the unexplainable and human beings. What horrific things people are capable of is more terrifying than any ferocious creature with fur and fangs. At its core, GREEN ROOM is a horror film. It’s a story about the evil that lives in plain sight in America that feeds off whomever they choose. They’re cannibals in a sense. Jeremy Saulnier posits that this is the type of evil that many of us turn a blind eye too because, like the “boogeyman” under the bed, if we don’t look, maybe he isn’t actually there. In this case, the boogeyman is there, and the fact that it’s a bunch of punk kids that fight back against him – the type of kids that many “good” people would snub their noses at based on appearance alone – is an ironic twist on the type of film where we see heroes defending American soil from the monsters who really want to hurt us.

Overall rating: 4.5 out of 5

GREEN ROOM is now playing in select theaters

SING STREET – Review

The sweet, sweet smell of nostalgia wafts through the multiplex this weekend with the release of writer/director John (ONCE) Carney’s ode to the 1980’s. Really the later part of that decade when kids could switch over to the cable channel MTV and actually watch music videos of their favorite singers and bands (even stodgy old broadcast dinosaur NBC got on board for “Friday Night Videos” after Johnny Carson signed off). Aspiring rock stars sat down to the keyboard and the sketch/notepad to create a new sound and look that would send them to stardom, not just here in the states but all over the world. Even in a modest apartment, oops flat, in Dublin. This is the setting for a sweet, tuneful coming of age story that occurs on SING STREET.

To be exact, it starts in 1986, in Ireland. A bright lad named Conor AKA Cosmo (Ferdia Walsh-Peelo) is nearing 16, when his world begins to turn upside down. His mum and dad (Maris Doyle Kennedy and Aidan Gillen) are on the verge of splitting up. Financial woes are putting a further strain on the marriage. Older brother Brendan (Jack Reynor) has just dropped out of college while older sister Ann (Kelly Thornton) continues on with her college studies, giving up fine art to pursue architecture. Belts must be tightened, so Cosmo must leave the private school and begin anew at a nearby Sygne Street Christian Brothers School better known as “Sing Street” (it’s also known as a tough place). He hopes for the best, but is immediately a target for the bullies, especially hooligan Barry (Ian Kenny), and the staff (the principal berates him for not having black shoes). Happily Cosmo makes a friend in the smaller, also bullied, Darren (Ben Carolan). As the boys leave school, they notice the gorgeous girl standing across the street. Darren warns Cosmo that she will have nothing to do with the Sygne schoolboys, but Cosmo will not be deterred. The beauty’s name is Raphina (Lucy Boynton) a “model/actress”. He boasts that he may hire her to be in his pop band’s music video. As her much older beau approaches they exchange numbers. Now Cosmo must, absolutely has to, start a band! Luckily he shares a love of music videos (particularly MTV superstars Duran Duran) with his rock n’ roll loving brother, who becomes his mentor. Over the next few weeks, Cosmo and Darren (who appoints himself band manager) recruit other students, forming the band “Sing Street”. Raphina becomes their “video vamp” and fashion/makeup consultant while Cosmo attempts to romance her. Finally they get a paying job, playing at the annual school dance. Perhaps this will propel Cosmo and his crew away from the dreary school and land them onto the pop charts.

Walsh-Peelo makes an impressive screen debut as the story’s hero, Cosmo. His expressive eyes convey all the hopes and fears that are bouncing about his brain. We seem him gaining confidence after his hesitant, quivering a capella rendition of “Take on Me” delivered to Raphina to his ascension to “frontman” of Sing Street and finally his stage polish and presence mesmerizing his school mates at the big dance. His creative dreams happily mesh with his first big romance. Walsh-Peelo has a great rapport with all his co-stars, particularly as he tries to woo the wonderful Boynton as his dream girl. Her Raphina tries to remain aloof and distant, but we see how she becomes almost a nurturing mother figure to the boys in the band and an encouraging muse to Cosmo. Boynton is especially compelling as Raphina’s tough outer shell melts away to expose the sad lonely lady inside. And Wash-Peelo also has terrific chemistry with the endearing Reynor as Cosmo’s brother who becomes his music “Yoda”, steering his lil’ bro’ in the right direction via his massive LP collection. With his shaggy, loose delivery Reynor resembles an engaging mix of Seth Rogen with a dash of a Hemsworth (Liam or Chris) as he becomes more of a father figure to Cosmo than their own pop. When he reveals his own dashed dreams, Reynor becomes the film’s broken but still beating heart. All the band mates are great with young Carolan as a funny “wheeler-dealer” and Mark McKenna as the all-purpose musical savant Eamon, whose incredible talents take flight and soar after meeting Cosmo.

The “Hey guys, let’s start a band!” story is a film staple (there’s even a couple of actors from THE COMMITMENTS in the cast), but Carney gives this familiar tale a fresh, vibrant spin thanks to his spirited pacing and this terrific cast. Oh, his script is just full of wit and charm to boot. Unlike many recent movie musician “bio-pics”, Carney captures the energizing joy of creation and collaboration from the few scribbled lines of a poem to attempts to meld it with rhythm and tempo. Plus there’s the added fun of seeing the kids try to create their own style and look for MTV. The clumsy results are awkward and funny. But then Carney shows us the polished version that exists only in Cosmo’s brain. This is very effective in the number “Drive it Like You Stole It” which is set in a BACK TO THE FUTURE-inspired school prom. And it’s a great toe-tappin’ pop tune, as is the big finale “Brown Shoes” which becomes a rebellious anthem directed at the abusive principal (one last “flipping of the bird”). The only problem with the film may be the heavy Irish accents, but your ears should adjust quickly. Otherwise, the film just plain works on every level, as a comedy, a musical, a nostalgic dream, a love story, or a family “dramedy”. It’s sweet without being syrupy and just packed to the brim with charm and joy. That’s why SING STREET so earns and deserves…

5 out of 5

SING STREET opens everywhere and screens exclusively in the St. Louis area at Landmark’s Plaza Frontenac Cinemas

MOTHER’S DAY – Review

Sappiness overflows in MOTHER’S DAY, an assembly-line rom-com with little on its mind beyond clichés and predictable formula. 81-year old director Garry Marshall, still mining the calendar after the similar NEW YEAR’S EVE and VALENTINE’S DAY, has gathered a bouquet of celebrity movie stars including Julia Roberts, Jennifer Aniston, Jason Sudeikis, and Kate Hudson, and shuffled them into tiresome skits about motherhood gone right and wrong. MOTHER’S DAY is a shallow and sickly-sweet offering best avoided.

Jennifer Aniston has the largest role in MOTHER’S DAY as Sandy, a divorced mother of two sons whose ex-husband Henry (Timothy OIyphant) has married the much younger Tina (Shay Mitchell), who tries too hard to be a cool stepmom. The story jumps between Sandy’s dilemma and those of a dozen others, such as childless Miranda (Julia Roberts), an uptight QVC superstar who has motherhood forced on her by the sudden appearance of Kristin (Britt Robertson), the daughter she gave up for adoption as a teen. Kristin is a mom herself, yet has commitment issues with her Brit boyfriend Zack (Jake Whitehall), a bartender who aspires to be a stand-up comic. Gabi and Jesse (Sarah Chalke and Kate Hudson) are sisters who live next door to each other and who have for years hidden their respective mates from their narrow-minded parents (Margo Martindale and Robert Pine) who unexpectedly show up at their door (Gabi is married to another woman and Jesse to an Indian doctor). Then there’s gym owner Bradley (Jason Sudeikis), struggling to move on with his love life a year after the death of his wife (Jennifer Garner in a bizarre cameo) while trying to figure the best way to celebrate Mother’s Day with his two young daughters, the older of which (Jessi Case) is having her own first go at romance. There are other characters on hand including John Lovitz as a sad sack comedy club owner, Loni Love as Bradley’s sassy black friend (‘cuz every lame comedy must have one) and, since this is a Gerry Marshall film, 80-year old Hector Elizondo as Lance, Miranda’s sage personal assistant who doles out the expected platitudes about motherly love.

MOTHER’S DAY, one of those bland Hollywood star machines that bears no resemblance to the real world, feels like it’s been cynically conceived by a studio marketing brain trust. Director Marshall seems to hope that with all the sugary distractions you won’t notice that every skit is lame, every line of dialogue is stale, and every joke falls flat – even the ones at the comedy club (heck, especially the ones at the comedy club!). Although the cast manages to inject some personality from time to time, each plot strand is so constrained by the rom-com structure that it has nowhere to go. There’s no real conflict or edge. The film’s sole serious crisis involves a missing inhaler for an asthmatic kid who’s endangered for about 30 seconds. This is lazy screenwriting by the numbers. Is it really still funny to mock old people’s lack of computer savvy? We get the scene where Bradley’s at the store buying his teen girl’s tampons and the checkout girl has to compound his embarrassment by getting a price check over the P.A. (Michael Keaton did this exact gag better in MR. MOM in 1983 but at least this time they’re eco-friendly organic cotton tampons – how progressive!). MOTHER’S DAY is so desperate for laughs that it runs outtakes/bloopers during the closing credits, a device that hasn’t been funny since Burt Reynolds stopped doing it in the late ‘70s. Margo Martindale and Robert Pine have some funny moments as Gabi and Jesse’s bigoted parents (they’re from Texas of course), but they seem like they’ve dropped in from a different, broader comedy. “You’ve got a towel-head for a husband!?!” shouts dad, but I guess since he’s referring to an Indian, that is considered (by the screenwriters) loveable racism (good thing they didn’t make Jesse’s husband a black guy!). Pine is introduced sucking on a fried chicken leg and Martindale has a cute scene with her half-Indian grandson (“I see why they call you Tanner”). They spend most of the film parked in front of their daughter’s homes in a massive RV which leads to a unique chase through an Atlanta suburb involving that vehicle and a parade float built by the lesbian couple that’s a giant pink birth canal.

It’s easy to be cynical about a movie like MOTHER’S DAY, one that I’m sure a lot of women will end up enjoying. There are some tart lines mixed with the schmaltz, and it’s certainly easy on the eyes, with a supersized collection of pretty stars (though Ms Roberts looks clownish in that weird red wig). Ultra-sweet, safe and sporadically heartwarming, MOTHER’S DAY will no doubt be bulletproof at the box office.

1 and 1/2 of 5 Stars

THE FIRST MONDAY IN MAY Review

Is fashion art? That question is raised in the documentary THE FIRST MONDAY IN MAY. Actually, director Andrew Rossi’s documentary focuses less on that philosophical debate that on the preparations for Metropolitan Museum of Art’s 2015 art exhibition “China: Through the Looking Glass” and the gala party that opened would mark its debut. The exhibit, curated by Andrew Bolton, represented a first-time collaboration between the New York museum’s Chinese art collection and gallery, in the museum’s main upper level and part of its mainstream fine art holdings, and the museum’s Costume Institute, considered by traditionalists as decorative arts rather than fine art, and housed in the museum’s lower level. The exhibit was the Costume Institute’s annual event, but the first time it had teamed with any fine art section and moved into the main level. It will also be the Costume Institute’s largest ever exhibit, three times larger than previously, honoring the influence of Chinese art on Western fashions.

“China: Through the Looking Glass” was the Costume Institute’s best-attended exhibits, featuring the work of both iconic Western and contemporary Chinese designers, all Chinese-inspired designs.

Rossi also directed PAGE ONE: INSIDE THE NEW YORK TIMES, and has a nice touch for this kind of behind the scenes documentary, giving the viewer a feeling of being part of the process. The documentary’s title refers to the date of the gala party that debuts the Costume Institute’s annual fashion exhibit, a major fund-raising event that takes place on the first Monday in May. The star-studded event, filled with celebrities from film, music as well as fashion, is a fashion extravaganza organized by Anna Wintour, the iconic editor-in-chief of Vogue and long-time chair of the gala. The beautiful and famous invited include George Clooney, Rihanna, Anne Hathaway, Kate Hudson, Julianne Moore, Jennifer Lawrence, Gong Li, Lady Gaga, and Michael Bloomberg, as well as fashion’s biggest names. Since the event is about fashion, the celebrities attend in lavish attire inspired by the exhibit’s theme – giving a red carpet experience to top the Oscars. The annual gala is a sought-after ticket for a night of dining, art and entertainment, which raises large sums to benefit the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

The film follows both Wintour and Bolton over eight months as they prepare their portions of the exhibit’s opening – the party and the exhibit. Both are fascinating processes, moving independently towards the same opening date in May.

The film opens with the discussion of whether fashion can be considered art. Certainly costume design is part of the art of theater and film – costumes are part of the “art direction” of a film – and the beauty of such works can be undeniable. But the film focuses primarily on the world of hate couture, fashions to be worn, on the runway if not always on the street. It is a different kind of theater but is it fine art? The film explores the definition of “art,” from the 19th century, or traditional, definition of fine art as painting, drawing and sculpture, while forms like furniture and fashion are considered decorative or practical arts. That definition began to shift in the 20th century but as the film makes clear even some of the biggest names of fashion still do not consider their work fine art. Curator Bolton sees it differently and worked hard for the collaboration with the Chinese art exhibit.

As the time of the exhibit grows close, the documentary shifts from the philosophical discussion to focus on more practical matters, although cultural clashes still loom. One challenge of the exhibit is finding balance between the Chinese art already in the gallery, and Chinese-inspired fashions to be displayed. The organizers must find a pathway to showing off the clothes without reducing the Chinese art to “wallpaper” backdrop. Another challenge is cultural sensitivity, as many of the Western designs were influenced by Hollywood’s depiction of China and its culture rather than directly by Chinese art and culture itself, a lens that can raise questions of racism or colonialism. Bolton wisely brought in Chinese director Wong Kar-wai as a consultant and participant. The director’s films. like “In The Mood For Love.” exhibit a strong visual style and use of costumes that have directly inspired some designers/ A visit to China is included in Bolton’s research but Wong’s Chinese perspective and cultural insights surely helped more.

The documentary follows all these strong personalities and all the moving parts on the two tracks of preparing for the party and for the installation itself. There is a ticking-clock urgency and it builds to a crescendo as time runs short, with lighting technicians and builders hurrying to finish hours before the opening and party. Along the way, we get behind-the-scenes views of the brilliant, colorful, fantastical fashions, the art works, and the details of how it all comes together.

THE FIRST MONDAY IN MAY is an intriguing, entertaining documentary about how this big event came together, whether one is interested in art, Chinese culture, fashion or celebrities.

THE FIRST MONDAY IN MAY OPENS FRIDAY, APRIL 22nd
AT LANDMARK’S PLAZA FRONTENAC CINEMA

OVERALL RATING: 3 1/2 OUT OF 5 STARS

ELVIS & NIXON Review

Likely you have seen the photo: Richard Nixon, President of the United States, shaking hands with Elvis Presley, the King of Rock N’ Roll in full Las Vegas costume. It looks like a joke, one staged with impersonators, but the photo is real and, as the film tells us, the most requested photo of the National Archives.

This absurd, unlikely meeting is the basis of ELVIS & NIXON a hilarious satire starring Kevin Spacey as Nixon and Michael Shannon as Elvis. The film, directed by Liza Johnson with a script by Joey Sagal, Hanala Sagal and Cary Elwes, is sly, clever and funny, with a little thoughtful reflection on the insular nature of great fame or power, and human relationships.

In 1970, Elvis Presley (Shannon) unexpectedly shows up at the White House gate, accompanied by friend Jerry Schilling (Alex Pettyfer), to request a meeting with President Richard Nixon (Spacey). Elvis wants to offer to help the President in the war on drugs, by becoming a Federal agent at large. Nixon’s staffers, Egil “Bud” Krogh (Colin Hanks) and Dwight Chapin (Evan Peters) think it could be good PR for the “youth vote” in the next election. Nixon does not even know who Elvis, even though he is one of the most famous men in the country. He dismisses the meeting as a trivial waste of time.

Yet the delusional does meet the paranoid in the end. Nixon and Elvis are two iconic figures of an earlier era but ones you would never expect to see in the same room. Presley was one of the most beloved figures in entertainment, whose death spawned denials and decades of Las Vegas impersonators but also a symbol of the excesses of fame – a man who shot his TVs when he didn’t like what he saw, loved his guns, held politically conservative views, but drank, drugged and lived the life of rock n’ roll excess. Nixon was once called “the most hated man in America,” a politician known as “Tricky Dick” noted for both underhanded politics, personal paranoia and his serious, wonky un-hipness, who ramped up the Vietnam War, secretly bombed Cambodia, opened China and was the only president to resign.

That two such people existed in the same time period seems odd enough. The possibility they would meet seems unimaginable. Yet there is the photo.

There had to be a story behind this absurd image, and ELVIS & NIXON tells one, mixing some facts with satiric fiction. The story is based in part on the memoir by Elvis pal Schilling, and his character acts as a kind of grounding in reality for the absurd situation. Spacey does not look like Nixon and Shannon does not resemble Elvis, but with a little help from costume and make-up, these two great actors make it work.

The film succeeds due to the actors and the strong script, which reveals the human side of both figures and avoids the cliches. The actors wisely play their parts straight-faced, since the comedy is inherent in the situation. The majority of the film is the lead-up to the meeting, as Elvis, disconnected from reality by too much fame, has not a clue what he is asking, and Nixon, famously resentful, seriously focused on politics and international affairs but clueless about popular culture, move in their own spheres towards their meeting.

Once the film puts Shannon and Spacey in the same room, it is like magic, with two terrific actors brilliantly playing off each other in hilarious fashion. It is worth the ticket price all by itself. But the film also offers other gems, particularly reflection on the isolating, disconnecting nature of fame or power, and the price of maintaining an image. Most of the film focuses on Elvis, and tells its story through his relationship with Schilling, a childhood friend with whom Elvis can be himself, not his public persona. Nixon gets his moments of insight and humanization, partly through his love for his college-aged daughter, an Elvis fan, but also in his discussion with Elvis.

The details may not all be true, but the satiric humor is spot on and the insights on human relationships are universal. With strong performances by Shannon and Spacey, ELVIS & NIXON is a film worth seeing, even if you don’t care about either guy in the photo.

ELVIS & NIXON opens on April 22nd, 2016

OVERALL RATING: 4 OUT OF 5 STARS

A HOLOGRAM FOR THE KING – Review

Usually when the Middle East shows up in modern films it’s the setting for dramas and thrillers. The troubled global “hot spot” has been the backdrop for “based on a true story” tales of the military with AMERICAN SNIPER and one of the first flicks to be released this year, 13 HOURS: THE SECRET SOLDIERS OF BENGHAZI. So it’s surprising that this region has been the setting for two comedies this year (SALMON FISHING IN THE YEMAN tested the waters five years ago). And one big source of the humor is the culture clash when Americans arrive there. It’s the old “fish out of water” recipe for laughs. A couple of months ago, it was Tina Fey butting heads in WHISKEY TANGO FOXTROT. And now arriving in Saudi Arabia is the affable everyman (really every-American-man) Tom Hanks, an actor familiar with that comedy trope, going back thirty years with VOLUNTEERS to his last Spielberg comedy THE TERMINAL (there he was the cute, clueless foreign fella’ trying to make sense of the USA). So can the ultimate guy next door dig up some laughs in the sand with A HOLOGRAM FOR THE KING?

Alan Clay (Hanks) seems to be trapped in a cliché’ music video, lip-syncing a Talking Heads classic as everything around him bursts into magenta smoke. Ah, but it’s just a dream. He wakes to see that he’s the only American on a flight to Saudi Arabia. While most men his age are getting ready to retire, Alan is sweating out the biggest sales trip of his life. He’s with an IT company back in the states who are trying to sell the Saudi king on buying their hologram system for his proposed new city. The boss is breathing down Alan’s neck along with Alan’s ex-wife. Alan needs the commission to pay for his daughter Kit’s (Tracey Fairaway) college education. After checking in at the plush Hyatt hotel, Alan oversleeps and misses the next morning’s shuttle to the city construction site. Luckily the hotel helps him hire a driver, the US pop-music loving Yousef (Alexander Black), a good-natured guy despite his fear of being killed by his lover’s husband. Arriving at the secluded city site, Alan is stunned that his company’s tech team is working out of a hot tent with little internet access. A talk with the staff at the management office doesn’t prove fruitful. His liaison is constantly out and nobody seems sure when the king will arrive for the big sales pitch and demonstration. Alan continues to have trouble sleeping (and continues to hire Yousef), while also stressing out over a large lump that has popped up on his back. Yousef finally takes him to a local hospital where he is treated by a woman doctor (a real rarity there), Zahra (Sarita Choudhury). As she investigates his mysterious lump, Alan is charmed by the witty physician and the two begin an email correspondence. Soon Alan is hoping that the king will delay his visit indefinitely.

Once more Hanks is the “average Joe” that audiences instinctively root for, but he adds an other tone to the foreigner in a foreign land. While his most recent role in BRIDGE OF SPIES was a good man in over his head in a quest for justice, Alan Clay is a man going under for the last time. It’s almost an extension of his young “go-getter” characters from NOTHING IN COMMON or even going back to his sitcom “Bosom Buddies” after the world has beaten him down with failure and disappointment. His half-frozen smile masks his desperation. The joy in his heart only comes out during his conversations with the daughter he completely adores. Hanks expertly conveys that regret and sadness, delivering another award-worthy performance to rank with the best of his long celebrated career.

Luckily Hanks gets two terrific acting partners in some of the film’s best sequences. For great comic timing, it’s tough to beat those long desert rides with the delightful Black as the slightly jittery, but still fairly mellow Yousef. It’s not just culture clash that provides the laughs. These two strangers engage in an awkward verbal dance from the start, unable to read each other’s expressions or verbal tics. The two are a great comedy team. As for a romantic team, or couple, genuine sparks fly between Hanks as Clay and Choudhury as the exotic, no-nonsense doctor. Unlike his first moments with Yousef, Alan immediately connects with Zahra, made stronger when he hears of her divorce problems (if he thought his US split was nasty, he can’t fathom her battles). When they finally have their clandestine “date” at her beachfront home, their emotions can finally be fully expressed, showing that love can indeed be better (as the ole’ Sinatra standard goes) “the second time around”. Their sensual swim even reminds us of Hanks’s first screen triumph, SPLASH. There are several other great supporting players. Fairaway is the daughter who just may also be her pop’s best pal. Sidse Babett Knudsen is memorable as a transplanted European who is helpful and extremely (really!) friendly. Best of all might be screen vet Tom Skerritt as Alan’s father, who is almost a living ghost, a spectre floating through Alan’s memories, who reminds him of his failures.

After the glitzy, frenetic musical opening, director Tom Tykwer settles down to tell the story in a leisurely, but never sluggish pace, much different from his work in CLOUD ATLAS or his first hit RUN LOLA RUN. He also aided author Dave Eggers in bringing his acclaimed novel to the screen. The expected quirky bits of whimsy are present, but Tykwer never shortchanges the emotional heft of the story. He also establishes a real sense of place with Hanks often walking alone past the massive sand dunes, helped greatly by cinematographer Frank Griebe. Oh, and Tykwer also contributed to the subtle music score along with Johnny Klimek. This is a compelling motion picture that’s brimming with heart, laughter, and great performances. You might say that A HOLOGRAM FOR THE KING is indeed fit for a king. Or anyone looking for a great time at the movies.

4.5 Out of 5

MILES AHEAD – Review

Late Fall and Winter are generally the months for prestige movie biographies that often reap Oscar gold, but now the start of Spring appears to be a most fruitful time for such projects. After two sports “bio-pics, RACE and EDDIE THE EAGLE, burst out of their respective gates at the year’s start, the cinema scene has shifted from athletes to musicians. Country music icon Hank Williams lead the charge just a few weeks ago with I SAW THE LIGHT, then the jazz world was explored via trumpet man Chet Baker in BORN TO BE BLUE. Now we get a look at the life of one of Baker’s contemporaries (who is actually portrayed in BLUE), who’s also a legendary “horn man”, the one and only Miles Davis. And while actors Tom Hiddleston and Ethan Hawke truly immersed themselves in their roles as Hank and Chet, Don Cheadle’s quest to play Miles was truly a passion project. Cheadle directed and co-wrote this film and took to social media in an effort to finance it. After years of false starts and frustrations, the end result of his efforts is finally on display in MILES AHEAD.

As the film begins, Davis (Cheadle) is in a plush “gas-guzzler” careening through the dark rainy streets on NYC in the late 1970’s, dodging lead spewing from another car hot on its tail. The story then backtracks several hours to Davis staggering through his opulent apartment. He hasn’t released a record in several years and has almost become a hermit, calling in to jazz radio stations while partaking of a variety of “mood enhancers”. Someone pounding on the door jolts him back to reality. On his doorstep is rock journalist/hustler Dave Brill (Ewan McGregor) who insists on interviewing Davis for Rolling Stone magazine via a deal set up by Davis’s label Columbia Records. After a tense initial meeting, Davis convinces Brill to drive him to Columbia’s offices. While an exec pleads for the new album owed them in a still-binding contract, a music agent named Harper Hamilton (Michael Stuhlberg) invites Davis to a club that will be showcasing his newest jazz discovery, Junior (Keith Stanfield). Leaving the offices, Miles and Dave stop by a “supplier” then head back to the Davis townhouse where his girlfriend is throwing a massive party. Davis shows Brill the huge master tape (looking like an old film canister) that will be his long-delayed new record. As they retire to his basement recording studio, Hamilton sweeps in and steals the tape which leads to the film’s opening chase. As he tries, with Brill’s help, to retrieve his music, Davis reflects on his days as a jazz superstar in the late fifties and recalls his tumultuous relationship with his first wife, the gorgeous dancer Frances Taylor (Emayatzy Corinealdi).

Cheadle dominates every scene and exchange with a confident, charismatic and enigmatic performance as the legendary artist. Much as with the archive videos of Davis on stage, he captures that intensity and air of mystery. Cheadle’s Davis has an otherworldly quality, always unpredictable. Luckily we get to see Davis during two touchstones in his career. The fifties club entertainer is full of dangerous ambition, a man who sees his goal and strives to attain it. A real contrast to the be-bop survivor who wanders about in a stupor until the loss of his work re-ignites a spark. McGregor makes an excellent verbal sparring partner, in awe of his musical hero, but frustrated by his lack of focus. Brill wants that interview, not only for himself, but to remind the world of Davis. Stuhlbarg is a marvelous sleazy villain, smiling and complimenting Davis to his face while looking for the chance to stab him in the back, anything to profit himself and his client. Corinealdi is captivating as the etherial beauty that dances in and out of Davis’s dreams. Her sultry charms are not enough to destroy the demons that possess her betrothed.

The film captures the two eras expertly from the hazy golden nightclubs of the fifties to the glittering disco kitsch of the seventies. Cheadle is a promising director, getting great performances while establishing the perfect mood for every sequence, though the film feels a bit constricted by the script he and his writers have constructed. Much as with Spielberg’s LINCOLN, this film focuses in on one part of Davis’s remarkable life, rather than seeing him grow up, discover the trumpet, and so forth. This keeps the subject at a distance, often making Miles a surly, growling, scowling riddle. It doesn’t help that the story spends far too much time on the missing music, becoming a zany period “caper” pastiche. This is film time that may have been better since watching Miles create. Still, Cheadle’s devotion and enthusiasm shows in every frame. Despite its flaws and disjointed structure MILES AHEAD is a fervent fan letter of a film celebrating a music legend.

3 Out of 5

THE HUNTSMAN: WINTER’S WAR – Review

A trio of A-list actresses – Charlize Theron, Emily Blunt, and Jessica Chastain – look great in Colleen Atwood’s costumes but are otherwise wasted in the joyless and bland THE HUNTSMAN: WINTER’S WAR. And while the trailer makes it look like a battle of badass beauties, two of these actresses (the ones who play the most interesting characters) are off-screen for most of the film’s running time. I did not see SNOW WHITE AND THE HUNTSMAN but I hope it was better than this lame sequel/prequel.

THE HUNTSMAN: WINTER’S WAR opens with a prologue detailing the backstory of how evil queen Ravenna (Theron reprising her role) caused her sister Freya (Blunt) to join her wicked ways. Freya, who controls ice (just like Elsa in FROZEN!) had become pregnant by a betrothed man who she ends up killing after blaming him for the death of her child. She then becomes the ‘Ice Queen’ who establishes her kingdom by kidnapping kids and training them to be warriors she calls huntsmen. Chris Hemsworth’s Eric and Jessica Chastain’s Sara are introduced as abducted child soldiers kidnapped from their homes and forced to pillage the countryside as members of Freya’s army. Sara and Eric have fallen in love, something forbidden by Freya who literally separates the pair with one of her magic ice walls and leaves the lovers each thinking that the other is dead. The story then jumps ahead seven years (after the events of SNOW WHITE AND THE HUNTSMAN) where Eric, now accompanied by two of Snow White’s dwarfs (Nick Frost and Rob Brydon – it’s unexplained what happened to the other five) is assigned with finding a magic mirror before Freya gets her hands on it. Sara joins him in this long middle section, which is basically an episodic, Hobbit-like woodland trek with a few CGI beasts along the way.

THE HUNTSMAN: WINTER’S WAR is very dark and very dull. Novice director Cedric Nicolas-Troyan designed the special effects for the previous Huntsman film, and his visuals here crib from that film – there’s not even a sense of originality in the fantasy world-building. His directorial inexperience shows with no sense of pacing as he’s unable to give THE HUNTSMAN: WINTER’S WAR a pulse. The movie just sits up there on screen, marching lazily through its paces without ever springing to life. Everything looks either sleek and shiny or foreboding and grimy, a Lord of the Rings-meets-Game of Thrones bedtime story with a confusing tone that will likely puzzle younger viewers accustomed to clearer motives for characters. The effects look expensive but they never look real, more like cartoons, or computer-game graphics, at odds with its live action. There are a few moments of visual magic in the details; a hissing snake with grass for skin and the shattering of an alabaster owl, but we mostly get lots of scenes with Freya conjuring up walls of ice while Ravenna lashes out with inky black tendrils like Spidey’s foe Venom.

Charlize Theron seems to be the only one onscreen having fun, camping and vamping like a pro, but after the opening sequence she vanishes for a solid 80 minutes and by the time she reappears, I’d lost interest. Emily Blunt underplays her role. I guess they didn’t want a scenery chewing contest between the sisters but while Blunt utters her dialogue with an air of heavy significance, she mostly just seems bored. Hemsworth is given little to do in terms of challenging his range He can’t keep his hands off of Jessica Chastain, who looks good shooting arrows but is mostly wasted. The dwarfs are supposed to provide comic relief which may have worked had they been given anything funny to say or do (the dwarfettes don’t help). It’s worthwhile to see a big-budget blockbuster centered on women but there is no memorable dialogue in Evan Spiliotpoulos and Craig Mazin’s screenplay, just long stretches of tedium. With little entertainment value, thin characters, no momentum, and a dismal tone that will depress you and your kids, THE HUNTSMAN: WINTER’S WAR doesn’t work at all.

1 of 5 Stars

OVERALL RATING: 3 OUT OF 5 STARS

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OVERALL RATING: 3 1/2 OUT OF 5 STARS

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OVERALL RATING: 4 OUT OF 5 STARS

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