Review – Page 208 – We Are Movie Geeks

BEST OF ENEMIES – The Review

By Cate Marquis

Once upon a time, there was a news media covered that politics in a calm, pointedly-neutrally way. Then the televised debate between conservative William F. Buckley Jr. and liberal Gore Vidal happened. Nielsen numbers went through the roof and TV political coverage was never the same. Television news discovered political coverage as blood sport and traded dispassionate reporting for the entertaining fireworks of shouted confrontation and punditry.

In the highly entertaining, engrossing documentary BEST OF ENEMIES, directors Morgan Neville and Robert Gordon make a credible case for the Buckley-Vidal debates, a political face-off between, intellectual giants with opposing views, as a turning point in how the American media covers politics. The film takes us back to 1968 and the TV broadcasts of the Republican and Democratic political conventions, when these two prominent cultural and intellectual figures debated the direction of the nation.

In 1968, before cable and the internet, television was king. There were only three national networks, NBC, CBS and ABC. While news leaders NBC and CBS presented gavel-to-gavel coverage of the conventions, third-place (and much poorer) ABC hit on the idea of only presenting a nightly recap of the events at the conventions, and then supplementing that with a debate between pubic figures on opposite sides of the political spectrum.

Choosing these two men for a broadcast political debate was akin to a debate between, say, Rush Limbaugh and Jon Stewart – with no rules and nothing off the table. Who wouldn’t want to see that? Yet Rush and Stewart are entertainers while Buckley and Vidal were widely acknowledged brilliant minds. It seems very foreign now but at that time these two intellectuals were famous cultural figures, appearing on TV talk shows and other popular programs. Audiences of the time found them entertaining, with their sharp-witted verbal barbs and exaggerated upper-class mannerisms.

As BEST OF ENEMIES points out, the Buckley-Vidal debates were both a high point and low point for media coverage of politics. On the one hand, Buckley and Vidal were true intellectual heavyweights with the brains and verbal skills to demolish to each other’s arguments. On the other hand, they harbored a mutual hatred, which meant a fair amount of time went to pointed, clever, funny but personal attacks. As Neville writes the film’s notes, “This is not a film about who wins the argument. It’s a film about how we argue.”

Directors Neville and Gordon present the debates a bit like rounds of a boxing match, a good metaphor given the go-for-blood verbal sparring. The directors do a good job of putting these matches in a historical context and painting a brief picture of each man. Then there was the backdrop of the conventions. The Republican convention in Miami, with the Reagan forces revving in the wings, was relatively peaceful, in stark comparison to the later and famously disastrous Democratic convention in Chicago, where Mayor Richard Daley’s police brutalized anti-war protesters who were outside in the streets and clamoring to participate in the convention.

On the surface, Buckley and Vidal seemed to have much in common – both intellectuals and writers with elite upbringing and education, speaking with an upper-class East Coast accent and with an effete, aristocratic manner. Both were men had sharp wits and even sharper tongues, and used words as weapons.

As similar as they seemed, Vidal and Buckley stood on either side of the evolving cultural divide. Buckley was a Republican organizer and advocate of Ronald Reagan-Barry Goldwater’s “new conservative” movement, a staunch Catholic who rejected modernization, founder/editor of the conservative “National Review” magazine, and the host of the “Firing Line” TV talk show. Vidal was a liberal who was considered a literary giant, ranked with figures such as Truman Capote and Norman Mailer. He was a playwright and author whose works included the acclaimed “Burr” and other bestselling historical novels, as well as the scandal-sparking gender-bending satire “Myra Breckenridge.” Vidal, who had links to cultural figures ranging from Oscar Wilde, Jack Kerouac and Amelia Earhart, advocated sexual freedom and rejected conventional labels. He was a political outsider who favored the Democratic Party and had family ties to Jackie Kennedy.

Each believed the other’s ideas would destroy the country. What’s more – they hated each other personally.

BEST OF ENEMIES present the Buckley-Vidal debates in the context of their times, and follow-up on the aftermath of the debates and their lingering impact on both men. Besides the archival footage of the debates, the film has interviews with an array of journalists and academics including Todd Gitlin, Eric Alterman, and the late Christopher Hitchens. Speakers include people who knew them, like former talk show host Dick Cavett, Vidal biographer Fred Caplan and Buckley’s brother Reid. The film also features readings of both men’s writings, with Buckley’s words read by Kelsey Grammar and Vidal’s by John Lithgow, and archival interviews with the late Buckley and Vidal.

Setting the stage for the culture wars that still dog us, Buckley and Vidal debated the direction of the country from opposite ends of the political spectrum, discussing race, gender and class, war and American imperialism, civil unrest and personal freedom. While there were plenty of thoughtful discussions, the archival clips chosen for the film often focus on the zingers – the funny, pithy jabs and sparkling, venomous barbs. Watching these brainy people needle each other is entertaining but for a fuller, meatier view of the scope of their discussions, one would have to view the debates footage itself.

In the years following theses debates, Buckley’s “new conservatism” came to dominate the American political landscape since Reagan, yet Vidal’s call for gender, racial and personal freedoms seems to have won the social debate, with gay marriage and progress on gender and racial equality.

Both men are gone now although the debate still lingers. Since then, Buckley remains well-known, thanks to the way the Republicans made him an icon after Reagan’s election. Vidal’s public fame has faded, sadly, although writers and academics still hail him as the last literary giant of his era. Maybe this fascinating, entertaining film will spark renewed interest in his writings.

4 out of 5 stars

BEST OF ENEMIES opens Friday, August 21, at the Plaza Frontenac Cinema.

PHOENIX – The Review

A concealed gun, a smoky nightclub, a reconstructed and bandaged face; all of these pulpy elements are set upon a backdrop of post-war Berlin. When described like that PHOENIX sounds like a nod to the black and white film-noir genre. But director Christian Petzold is interested in much more. He has his sights on presenting a story of betrayal and intrigue, while placing under the cold and dark imagery a sort-of redemptive hope. Not unlike the name of the nightclub that the film shares its title with. His confident and succinct style works well with the lean story, but I’m not quite sure the story is infused enough with these themes to make much of an impression.

Nelly Lenz (Nina Hoss) is a Holocaust survivor who goes under the knife to correct her deformed features following her mistreatment during the war. Her friend Lene (the wonderful Nina Kunzendorf, whose character is strong enough to warrant her own film) takes Nelly under her wing and gives her clothes and a roof over her head in post-war Berlin. “I no longer exist,” Nelly mutters to her friend. She longs for the life she had before the war. So she sets out night after night to find her husband Johnny (Ronald Zehrfeld) whom she lost contact with during the war. One night she finds him in a smoky nightclub called Phoenix. The symbolism of the glowing red letters amid the dark ashes of a bombed city is not lost on the audience. Johnny, now going by Johannes, doesn’t recognize her. Any yet he’s still drawn to her due to a plan he has to gain money from his wife’s estate. So the two of them work together to have Nelly learn to be the “Nelly” he was married to.

Again, even though she has the same voice and mannerisms, he doesn’t recognize her due to her slightly different face. Really? If you can’t get past this central conceit than you’re in trouble. But Petzold does a fine job making this ridiculous plot point seem completely believable. Much of this has to do with the committed performances of the two leads. Like the masters of silent cinema, Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin, Nina Hoss uses her eyes to emote as her face remains rigid and despondent. In a role that could have come across as far too slimy and cruel, Ronald Zehrfeld gives Johnny just enough humanity to make him not detestable. He never reaches the level of crazy that Jimmy Stewart inhabits in VERTIGO, even though there is clearly some similarities at play.

The film has the post-war scenery and shadows that recall THE THIRD MAN. But it’s much more modest in its approach. Utilizing only a handful of locations, PHOENIX captures the dreary look and tone of this period in time. Maybe too well, in fact. The film maintains this forlorn sadness throughout. There’s not so much a heaviness to this drama as much as there’s a consistent monotone whimper. A deliberate and contemplative pace is given to a story that already lacks any narrative punch.

That is until the finale. After a final act reveal that feels manipulatively hidden from a character for no reason, we get to the shining moment of the film. Can the “fake Nelly” convince her family that she’s the “real Nelly?” Of course we know that they’re really one in the same but the excitement resides in watching the family’s reactions. It’s a riveting albeit short sequence that finally gives the film meaning. Then it is all capped off with a sequence that feels so subtle and yet so, sooooo perfect.

Even though I wasn’t wild about the calculated coldness that Christian Petzold maintained in PHOENIX, I’m at least intrigued enough to visit other films in his filmography. PHOENIX purposefully isn’t a soaring post-war film-noir. But man, does that ending really light up the screen.

Overall rating: 3 out of 5

PHOENIX opens Friday, August 14, in St. Louis at the Landmark Plaza Frontenac Cinema

THE MAN FROM U.N.C.L.E. – The Review

Oh my, is it be “spy time” once more? Already? Wow, 2015 has been a big movie year for all those “cloak and dagger” undercover men (and women)! Early in the year, audiences were introduced to the “hush-hush” exploits of KINGSMEN: THE SECRET SERVICE, ripped fresh from a very adult graphic novel. As Summer began to heat up, funny lady Melissa McCarthy took satiric aim at the genre in SPY (aided by action vets Jason Statham and Jude Law). And just two weeks ago, film fans were gasping at the daredevil work of Tom Cruise, risking life and limb in his fifth go-round as Ethan Hunt, leader of the IMF in MISSION IMPOSSIBLE: ROGUE NATION (number one at the box office for the last couple weekends). And before the end of the year, the king of “gentlemen agents”, 007 AKA James Bond returns in his (official) twenty-fourth action extravaganza feature film SPECTRE. Besides the genre, this week’s release has connections to two of those aforementioned flicks. Like Mr. Cruise’s current hit, this film is based on a popular weekly network television show from the “swingin’ sixties” (1964-68, to be precise). And Bond’s creator Ian Fleming had a big hand in the development of that TV series (particularly in the naming of a main character). As they’d say into their slick communication gadgets, “Open Channel ‘D’!”. After years in development limbo, THE MAN FROM U.N.C.L.E finally gets a big screen reboot/remake (THE WILD WILD WEST and GET SMART had movies years ago!). Looks like the secret HQ entrance at Del Floria’s Tailor Shop is now at the multiplex!

The opening credits of this “affair” (each TV episode title ended with that word) gives younger film goers a bit of a history lesson, “Cold War 101”, you could call it as grainy black and white news footage and graphic animation helps place us in the divided city of Berlin Germany circa 1963. Suave, smartly dressed Napoleon Solo (Henry Cavill) glides into the Soviet-occupied Eastern section of the city. We soon learn that Mr. Solo is an undercover CIA agent, recruited by the agency after he was jailed for working in the black market after his military service. He meets up with the focus of his new mission, fiesty auto-mechanic Gaby (Alicia Vikander). She’s the daughter of a scientist who has recently vanished. When Solo sneaks Gaby into West Berlin, they are nearly thwarted by the almost-unstoppable KGB agent Illya Kuryakin (Armie Hammer). Later, we learn that Gaby’s uncle has been snatched up by an Italian auto magnate, Alexander (Luca Calvani) and his wife Victoria (Elizabeth Debicki), who plan to use his skills to create stream-lined, deadly nuclear weapons, which they will sell to the highest bidder. This alarms the spy community and compels the East and West to join forces. Now reluctant partners Solo and Kuryakin will travel to Rome. Solo, posing as an antiques dealer will go after Victoria, while Kuryakin, taking the role of Gaby’s architect fiancée, will circle Alexander. The safety of the world just may depend on this secret agent “odd couple”.

Cavill trades the blue body armor and red cape for several superbly tailored suits, and makes a quite believable sixties spy. He even adopts the clipped, tight-lipped, off-the-cuff delivery of TV’s original Solo, Robert Vaughn crossed with a pinch of Cary Grant charm. He also handles the action scenes well, but really seems to lack the ruthless, dangerous element so evident in spies from Connery to Craig. That lack is somewhat taken up by Hammer who makes Illya a single-minded “weapon of mass destruction”(much more believable here than as a certain “masked man of the plains”). For much of the time he clenches his fists, waiting for the right moment to transform into a blond, blue-eyed hulk. His accent is strictly from Chekov (not the playwright, but the Star Trek staple), which helps to punch up the humor in his often deadpan dialogue. He appears to have more chemistry with Cavill than with his potential paramour, international cinema’s actress of the moment, Vikander. She reveals a loose, frolicking fun side, not really seen in her previous screen work, particularly when her endearing hotel suite “go-go” dance suddenly become a frisky wrestling match with Hammer. Unfortunately she’s never given a chance to join in the action and get “down and dirty” with the boys, and, for most of the third act, is regulated to the “damsel-in-distress” role. The opposing team (the baddies) lack any real charisma. Calvani glares while suppressing the urge to twirl his opulent mustache with menace. His on-screen spouse Debicki slinks about in lush vintage fashions in a game of “cat and mouse” with Cavill, seeming more like a bored trophy wife than villainous (until her cold-blooded side emerges in the film’s last thirty or so minutes). Some of the “evil” slack is taken up by Sylvester Groth as Gaby’s Uncle Rudi, an old-school sadist, who is a part of the film’s funniest, but really twisted, scene. Hugh Grant elicits a few chuckles as the befuddled English aristocrat who constantly crosses paths with Cavill, while the terrific Jared Harris is wasted as his gruff CIA handler.

First up, the good! Big, big kudos to the producers for setting the film in 1963, making it a true prequel to the original TV series (oh, if only the recent FANTASTIC FOUR reboot was set in that era!). The pre-“mod” clothing, cars, and props are almost a love letter to that “pop explosion” from fifty years ago (good period songs along with the nifty score by Daniel Pemberton). Sadly, the plot and direction are oddly lackluster. The director Guy Ritchie, best known for his high-octane, ‘in your face” action sequences, seems strangely muted here, almost muzzled, in fact. There’s none of the frenetic energy last evident in his two SHERLOCK HOLMES flicks. The action set pieces seem closer to a made-for-TV film, especially after the spectacular stunts that Agent Hunt executes in the still “packin’ them in” MI:RN. Hey, the fights and chases from the Connery Bonds were more “pulse-pounding”. These here are closer to Derek Flint and Matt Helm. Speedboats? eh. Antique ATV? Whatever. There’s not even a lot of fun “retro spy gadgets” in use. Ritchie and three others (really?!) penned the tepid. meandering script. At least the Italian locations pop with color, but Berlin is dank, dark, and dull. The film limps along several minutes after the end of the mission to deliver a lackluster coda intended to set things up for a sequel, or a franchise. Now, there’s yer’ impossible mission! “Close channel ‘D'”, please!

We wish to thank the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement without whose assistance this review would not be possible.

2.5 Out of 5

THE BOY (2015) – The Review

As parents, we often stress and worry over whether our children will be born disabled, or whether they’ll grow up happy and be successful. As parents, there are so many things to consider and be concerned about involving the well-being of our children, but it’s almost always centered on one key word… weakness. As parents, the worst thing we often imagine is that our children will be weak and unable to shoulder the burden of living in today’s world.

Perhaps weakness is not the true elephant in the room, or shall I say demon in the closet. What if… instead of raising a child that’s physically, mentally or emotionally weak, you found yourself raising a child that is physically and mentally strong, but emotionally void? What if you found yourself raising a sociopath? Now, what if you didn’t realize your child was a sociopath until it was already too late?

Directed by Craig William Macneill, who co-wrote with Clay McLeod Chapman, based loosely on his novel, THE BOY (2015) is one of the most frightening films a parent can see this year. No, this is not a horror film in the traditional sense, but is an unnerving psychological portrait of a boy named Ted Henley (played by Jared Breeze). Ted is a 9-year old boy living on a remote stretch of scenic tourist byway with his father John (played by David Morse) who owns and operates a fledgling little motel that’s been in the family for three generations. John hopes his son will one day carry the torch and keep the motel in the family, but the truth is that business is deafeningly slow.

Ted helps his father with running the motel, cleaning rooms and doing odds and ends. Most of the time, Ted does his work willingly, putting on the hat of good customer service, despite there rarely being any customers, but occasionally the truth creeps out when Ted is alone. From time to time, Ted sneaks peeks of a Florida post card, which is allegedly where his mother lives. In the mean time, he earns pocket change from John for collecting and disposing of roadkill off the byway in front of the motel, stashing away his coins in his makeshift “Florida or bust” coffee can bank.

Beginning with the roadkill, THE BOY carefully lays out Ted’s growing fascination with death. He is withdrawn, isolated and appears a shell of a boy, but inside that innocent, fleshy cocoon lies the makings of something decidedly evil. Ted is discovering his inner sociopath like other boys discover the hormonal allure of girls. Jared Breeze finds that perfect combination of harmless innocence and chilling creepiness that lies just beneath the surface. It’s like noticing the boy watching from a far, at first smiling and shrugging it off as any boy’s curiosity, then feeling the goosebumps and uneasiness associated with him watching, staring a bit too long, just before turning away and going about his business like nothing abnormal just occurred.

David Morse is very familiar, playing a version of his trademark melancholic troubled man with a heart of gold character, which works well in this role. John is distant, perhaps even neglectful to his son’s true nature and needs as he treads exceedingly deep water with an increasingly irrelevant small business deeper still beneath a mountain of debt. John is not purposefully neglectful or cruel. He acknowledges his son, communicates with his son, but is more on auto-pilot as a father than he is acutely aware of the pending peril his son represents, both to himself and others. Ted is a sociopath and John hasn’t the slightest clue.

THE BOY has some elements that I would call unintentional Easter eggs, if not purposefully inspired moments of homage, but that’s purely speculation. Macneill crafts a wonderful story that is somehow touching and terrifying all in one awkwardly pleasant character study. Notice the antlers worn by Ted in the poster. How often have we seen these play an integral role in modern stories of serial killers? Take the most recent examples of the TV series Hannibal and True Detective. Antlers are more than just horns, like that of the devil’s simple, minimalist presence, but are twisted, intertwined structures that branch out and shift directions, all wrapped up in something we see as beautiful and natural, but could kill in an instant if provoked.

The earthy, dusty tone and the subtle dusky lighting from cinematographer Noah Greenberg creates a warmth that is counter-intuitive to the story. This sets the viewer up, making the realization that Ted is not a sweet, innocent boy but rather a violent time bomb all the more compelling. German composer Hauschka supplements the film with an added level of hypnotizing misdirection with his original music, which carries the tone but leads viewers astray of the impending danger.

Sadly, Rainn Wilson turns out a somewhat disappointing performance as William Colby, a drifter who shacks up at the motel after hitting a deer, totaling his car. There is mystery to Colby, a secret and an inherent edge in his character that is all but missed with Wilson’s portrayal. Wilson attempts, even comes close to tapping into this on occasion, but never really hits his stride. This is unfortunate, as I like Rainn Wilson and want to see him continue to venture out and break the typecast so undeservedly put upon him by TV’s The Office.

THE BOY is a quaint, mostly quiet little film that serves as a nice, adolescent lead-in to other serial killer fare. Whether or not the film was influenced by PSYCHO, consider this the paternal alternative to the maternal Hitchcock classic. Void of any significant violence and gore, THE BOY resides almost entirely in the viewers’ psyche until the very end when we first see Ted’s inner sociopath emerge from his cocoon in a gloriously twisted fashion that remarkably still maintains a poetic, contemplative undertone and blurs the lines between right and wrong.

THE BOY opens in theaters nationwide and VOD on August 18th, 2015.

Overall rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars

TEN THOUSAND SAINTS – The Review

It was the hair, at first I thought I would hate this movie because of the kid’s hair. Allow me to explain, Jude is one messed up teenager (aren’t all teenagers messed up in the movies?) At the very start we see his Father and Mother break up. His Father,( Ethan Hawke: Gattaca), likes to grow marijuana in his green house, and that is where he sleeps when Mom kicks him out of the house. Jude’s Father, Les, explains to young Jude,( Henry Keleman,) exactly what happened and how that will impact the future story.

Fast forward a few years and Jude, now played by Asa Butterfield, is a young man with troubles. He and his best friend,( apparently his only friend,) Teddy (Avan Jogia) like to get high and listen to Hard Core Punk Rock. Through the early part of the movie Jude has one of those locks of hair hanging right in his face, hanging limp between his eyes. Never thought I would be so old as to say this but that hair is really annoying, no character in the movie asks him about the hair hanging in his face, and he never brushes it out of the way.

Seriously, I felt a lot better about Jude when about halfway through TEN THOUSAND SAINTS he cuts that lock of hair off and has pretty much a normal haircut. But well before that I came to really love this movie. Jude’s Father, Les, so very well played by Ethan Hawke (more or less playing the same type of messed up Father he did in Boyhood) is real big on marijuana. He is also a surrogate Father to Eliza (Hailee Steinfeld, so damn good in True Grit!) who comes to Vermont to spend a weekend with Les’ ex wife, and Jude’s Mother, Harriet (Julianne Nicholson: August Osage County).

A whole lot happens on that cold weekend, Eliza, Jude and Teddy go to a party, get high, Jude gets beaten up, and Teddy loses his virginity to Eliza. Naturally Eliza gets pregnant, and then it really gets complicated. In what seems like a predestined event Jude and Teddy huff Freon taken out of an air conditioner. (These kids have so little access to marijuana they huff paint thinner!) The Freon, of course is a bad idea. Both of them pass out, Teddy dies. The title comes from a Bible passage spoken by the Minister at Teddy’s funeral.

Eliza goes back to her Mother Diane, Les’ girl friend (Emily Mortimer: Hugo, City Island, Shutter Island) in New York City. Jude also goes to New York to live with Les, who tries his best to be a good Father, but a professional pot farmer is not such a good role model. Teddy has an older half brother Johnny (Emile Hirsch: Milk, Speed Racer) who has gone straight edge, that is no drugs, no sex, healthy diet. Johnny also plays in a seriously hard core band, One Man Army. He is also practicing Hare Krishna.

There is much talk about Jude being adopted, that Johnny and Teddy have different Fathers, that Eliza should give up her baby for adoption. And there is much talk about families not necessarily being related. Much like many other movies about teenagers, (Rebel Without a Cause certainly comes to mind,) a surrogate family is formed, with many members, all of whom want to do the right thing for the memory of Teddy, a kid we hardly get to know.

Where do I begin? TEN THOUSAND SAINTS has the complexity, the frustrations, the confusion, the dead ends, and the new beginnings, of real life. The relationships are so complex, the characters so well defined and the story so intimate, and real, and raw that you cannot help but be drawn in and feel that you know these people, or maybe you are, or were, these people.

The setting of New York City when hard core punk was happening, when homeless people were being chased out of Washington Square Park, when kids were doing anything to get high, and often paying the consequences, all of this is so well defined, and quite obviously on a low budget, you cannot help but be impressed.

I don’t want to give away too much plot but Johnny wants to do a seriously right thing and marry Eliza, even though we learn he is not really oriented that way. Of course it’s Jude who really loves her and tries his best to do the right thing as well.

TEN THOUSAND SAINTS is a true ensemble, with every character indelible, and true and memorable. Every actor gets moments, many moments, to shine. Against all the odds there is a happy, a very happy ending. Not ashamed to say it, I wept at the last few minutes of TEN THOUSAND SAINTS, partly from sadness at seeing the story come to an end. I could spend hours with these characters, this movie could be twice as long, or longer, and I would love every minute.

Based on a novel by Eleanor Henderson, which may be where a lot of the joy and heartfelt emotion comes from, this movie is a treasure.

In a very sweet, odd little moment, when they are just getting to know each other Eliza asks Teddy if he is Indian, because of his eyes. He says yes “but Gandhi, not Geronimo.” There are dozens of moments like that, all through TEN THOUSAND SAINTS. This is one of those movies, many are being made now, that deserves to be widely distributed in theaters, but likely will not. Movies that are character driven, that tell a story, that have something valid and real and honest and sincere to say about the human condition, don’t seem to stand a chance to be shown in multiplex theaters anymore. And we are all the more impoverished as a culture because of that.

I have to give TEN THOUSAND SAINTS Five out of Five stars, this movie is a masterpiece. I sincerely would like to see more work from Shari Springer Burman and Robert Pulcini. They have done good work before, such as American Splendor and Cinema Verite’.

Did I mention that TEN THOUSAND SAINTS is also funny? Very, very funny at times. And the music flat kicks ass!

TEN THOUSAND SAINTS opens in theaters, On Demand and iTunes August 14th

STRAIGHT OUTTA COMPTON – The Review

Simply put, STRAIGHT OUTTA COMPTON, director F. Gary Gray’s biopic of the rap group N.W.A., is nothing you thought it would be and everything you hoped it would be. And it’s been in the making for 27 years.

Based on the true story and rise to fame of members Ice Cube, Dr. Dre, Eazy-E, DJ Yella and MC Ren, STRAIGHT OUTTA COMPTON (taken from the name of the first and only album released by the 5 original members) is both a biopic and a coming of age story that keeps you riveted in your seat for two and half hours.

In 1987, Compton, CA was a hotbed of gangs, drugs, and a brutally corrupt LAPD. With no real voice to express their frustration and anger, drug dealer Eazy-E and local DJ Andre Young, (aka Dr. Dre) decided to start a group with neighborhood friends Ice Cube, DJ Yella, and MC Ren. What followed was a journey none of them could have predicted.

Having grown up in South Central LA, director F. Gary Gray (Friday, The Italian Job, The Negotiator) nails the whole look of the film perfectly. From the streets of Compton, to the recording studios and the sold out arenas, the film has an authenticity of that time period that is remarkable. One scene in particular, where the group is performing at local roller-skating rink immediately transports you to 1987 and characters everyone knew at some point or another in the late 80’s.

And speaking of characters, the casting is also somewhat of a stroke of genius. The three leads, O’Shea Jackson Jr. (Ice Cube), Corey Hawkins (Dr. Dre) and Jason Mitchell (Eazy-E) don’t just portray these characters, they become them. You can see the camaraderie and authenticity every time they are on screen together, which is what director Gray was most insistent on getting right, having the young actors spend a huge amount of time getting to know each other and bond before a single camera rolled.

Although mostly unknown, (O’Shea Jackson Jr. is the real-life son of Ice Cube, playing his famous father) the young cast definitely did their research. And this is where the heart of the movie comes from, and it is most evident in the performance scenes (the most impressive of the film) where it absolutely just explodes. It is crystal clear in the concert scenes that these were not crowds of extras sent over by Central Casting. These were true fans that knew they were about to experience something special (not to mention a performance by the real Dr. Dre and Ice Cube at the end of filming those scenes). They brought audience participation to a whole other level. Giving the film a bit of real Hollywood “street cred” is multi-award winning actor Paul Giamatti as group manager and svengali Jerry Heller. Heller is pretty much the catalyst for everything good and bad that happens to the group, including their meteoric rise and ultimate breakup over money and egos, and Giamatti plays it with such finesse that it doesn’t come off as the cartoonish white guy. Also frighteningly present is infamous gangster and rap mogul Suge Knight (played so well by R. Marcus Taylor, you think it’s a good thing the real Knight is behind bars). Without spoiling anything, his scenes are wonderfully ironic.

What really comes across as the most moving though, is the real, honest friendship between the members of N.W.A. Obviously, some have become more successful than others (Beats by Dre, anyone?) and Ice Cube became a huge movie star along the way, but the journey is theirs and theirs alone to tell. The love, the pain, the fights, the dis tracks and the triumph – it’s all on full display and fans will lap it up. And not just fans of N.W.A. This film is for fans of hip-hop, rap music, and all of these larger than life characters that all came straight outta Compton.

5 out of 5 stars

STRAIGHT OUTTA COMPTON opens Friday, August 14

AIR – The Review

Humanity has almost disappeared. A biologic weapon has gone viral and wiped out almost all human life on the planet. Somehow a handful of intelligent, educated people are kept in suspended animation, far underground. Tended to by a couple of engineers who are also in suspended animation, at 6 month intervals the two engineers are awakened, make sure the sleeping people are kept alive, and then go back to sleep. During their time awake they have only one hour and 40 minutes of time to check all the systems, tend to the sleepers, take care of their own needs, and then go back to sleep.

But something goes wrong, doesn’t it always in science fiction? Especially post apocalypse science fiction, of which AIR is just about the most grim and depressing vision of a post collapse landscape I can imagine.

The two engineers are Norman Reedus as Bauer and Djimon Hounsou as Cartwright. Both are excellent, both men are exhausted, physically and mentally a wreck from being awakened and put back into hyper sleep so many times. Would this idea actually work? The concept is that they will tend to the sleepers and make sure they awaken after the biologic plague has dispersed after so many years. The equipment they use is distressingly low tech, all the computers are DOS, mounted with panels of push buttons, manual switches and rusty looking metal, which make up the hardware.

Think of the hyper sleep of ALIEN and other science fiction movies. Director Christian Cantamessa’s AIR bears more than a passing resemblance to MOON, an excellent one character (almost) science fiction drama with Sam Rockwell. Here we have two characters, in a very cramped space, one of whom, Cartwright, is so on edge he sees his girlfriend, Sandrine Holt, who we assume is dead, speaking to him during waking periods. Think of the ghost characters of SOLARIS (both versions.)

AIR is a complete inversion of post apocalypse movies like MAD MAX, almost devoid of action, Air is character driven. Instead of a gleaming, high tech future we have a grimy, claustrophobic pressure cooker, with two men just going through the motions until the future members of the human race can be reawakened and set about the task of rebuilding civilization. And, as they must, systems fail, people betray each other, madness over takes the narrative.

This is not a feel good, happy time movie folks, this is indeed pretty grim and cynical stuff. Co-written by Chris Pasetto and Christian Cantamessa, AIR ends on an optimistic note, but we really get what a sacrifice it was for these men to tend to the sleepers, and put their own life on hold. We get one brief glimpse of the outside world and it is not a pretty sight, no indeed.

Djimon Hounsou is nothing short of astonishing, bringing to life a character that might have confounded lesser actors.

And Norman Reedus? Apparently Reedus is now the go to guy for this post apocalypse kind of project, after his many seasons on Walking Dead. Has he ever been clean, shaven, with a haircut and clean clothes? In any movie?

And quite frankly it is a pleasure to see Sandrine Holt again, I have not seen her since Rapa Nui, she who made such an impression in Black Robe.

I give AIR 4 out of 5 stars, it is very well made, with characters and dialog that ring true, but as already stated, this is not super happy fun, by no means. Be ready with a comedy chaser for afterwards.

AIR is in theaters, On Demand and Digital HD August 14.

Order here: https://itunes.apple.com/us/movie/air/id1014874786?mt=6&ign-mpt=uo%3D4

The film is rated PG-13.

TANGERINE – The Review

Review by Stephen Jones

If nothing else, TANGERINE achieves something I’ve been hoping to see for years; the film stars two transgendered characters, but the story isn’t ABOUT them being transgendered. Their gender identity isn’t their entire being, it doesn’t consume their entire lives, and isn’t the central inciting factor for the story told about them. That alone makes Sin-Dee and Alexandra two of the most realistic, fleshed out trans characters I’ve seen in a movie.

The movie as a whole could’ve done with a lot more of them. Both the characters and their actresses (Kitana Kiki Rodriguez and Mya Taylor, respectively) give their scenes a lot of energy and vibrancy, and it sort of dies off whenever they’re not on screen. Like whenever the cab driver’s story is the focus. I’m going to forget about the cab driver for a bit, but he takes up around half the film’s run time and contributes next to nothing to the other story. Without the cab driver, Sin-Dee and Alexandra’s stories could have been a little more fleshed out, given a little room to breathe and stretch, and this could have been a great movie.

It’s a prime example of something looking low budget but not cheap. This movie was shot on three iPhones. You can tell. It looks very low budget. But it doesn’t look cheap the way a “Jack and Jill” or a Syfy channel movie looks cheap. It’s a tough distinction to make in writing, but you could point to this movie and it’s really clear. Writer/director Sean Baker uses it stylistically, giving everything a really immediate energy. Although there are times it verges on Mumblecore, which some people like, but I generally don’t.

Where it really takes a turn for the positive, though, is the climax. Everything converges, the cab driver’s story actually gets interesting, and it starts to feel like Andrew Bujalski by way of early Pedro Almodovar. Or maybe a screwball comedy by Robert Altman. More and more characters enter the fray, everybody talking over everybody else, three or four different arguments all at once… the whole thing has a really madcap energy. It’s almost worth going to see the movie just for how fun this scene is.

This is one of those “just like real life” movies. It starts in medias res and lacks any real resolution. Just a 12 or so hour period with these characters. Like you’re following them around recording the crazy stuff they say and do on your phone. That sort of vibe can be really polarizing, but I was a little more receptive to this than others along the same lines. Even if I’m not a part of it, there’s definitely an audience for this movie, and that audience will probably love it.

3 of 5 Stars

TANGERINE opens in St. Louis August 7th exclusively at Landmark’s The Tivoli Theater

CALL ME LUCKY – The Review

“Barry Crimmins is pissed.” That one, simple line does sum up the film rather well, but it doesn’t truly do justice to the new documentary from Bobcat Goldthwait. CALL ME LUCKY is the story behind the story of Barry Crimmins, a comedian’s comedian that heavily influenced the Boston comedy scene in the 80s and beyond, but may not be widely known today by the general public. This film is your chance to change that unfortunate hole in your intellectual experience.

Thinking back to the glory days of 1980s comedy, we’ll recall Bobcat Goldthwait as the wild, manic and seemingly uncontrollable comedian who spoke strangely, had crazy hair and appeared in the POLICE ACADEMY movies huffing aerosol. This is not your 1980s Bobcat, having kicked his penchant for drugs and alcohol years ago, Goldthwait is now one of the most intriguing fringe filmmakers, push boundaries and testing limits with a very smart, funny and diverse repertoire of films. Goldthwait’s style of filmmaking is like walking into one cave after another, each time gently poking the sleeping bear inside just enough to see what half-dazed reaction slips from its hibernation-addled lips.

CALL ME LUCKY is, in part, a fascinating film because it explores an artist whose life encompasses what Goldthwait is doing with his films. Barry Crimmins sees the world as it is, honestly and with the disgust it deserves, but does so in a thoughtful, engaging way that says “this is what’s wrong and it makes me sick, but I understand and I want you to be aware.” Brimmins is highly intelligent and hilarious, so his ability to make us laugh while making us think is nothing short of genius and I would dare venture to say he succeeded where Lenny Bruce may have ultimately failed in comparison.

Goldthwait has so meticulously constructed this documentary that, as a viewer, it does not become apparent until well past the halfway mark that in reality, CALL ME LUCKY is as much a mystery as it is a non-fiction film. The drama comes in the form of a secret buried deep in Crimmins’ past and Goldthwait is marvelous at slowly revealing this secret in a way that parallel’s Crimmins’ own revelation of the truth. We learn a great deal about Crimmins, his comedy and his political activism through that comedy and outside of the stage. We get to know Barry Crimmins as we was in the 80s and who he is now, how he’s changed and how he is very much the same.

CALL ME LUCKY is a character study of one man who stands for many. He may not say things in the nicest ways, but what he says has power and purpose. Goldthwait interviews a number of comedians of varying styles and of varying perspectives on the world, some of which are in alignment with Crimmins’ and others are quite opposed, but the one common denominator is that Crimmins’ respects them all and they intern respect him. That is a rare trait that deserves the spotlight shown in this film. Interviews portrayed in this film include Steven Wright, Patton Oswalt, Margaret Cho, and many others comedians, but one of the most compelling interviews is the one which Goldthwait slowly coaxed with care from Crimmins’ sister as he attempts to poke the sleeping bear of this story. This slowly burning, uneasy advance towards the truth gives the film an edge of mystery and an emotional uncertainty that adds to the film’s appeal. Perhaps this may be seen as a touch too tabloid in how it unfolds, but its done with respect and the results are raw, honest emotion captured on film and heightens the viewer’s connection with the story.

Ultimately, what Goldthwait has done is provided a much deserved and much needed portrait of a personality at endanger of being forgotten. Crimmins’ now resides in a remote section of woods away from society, but as is apparent in the film, still keeps up with domestic and global politics and events and is as willing to express his thoughts as ever, just not on stage as a comedian garnering laughter in the process. CALL ME LUCKY may very well be one of the most important documentaries you will see in 2015 and is certainly one of the best this year, so do yourself a favor and seek it out.

CALL ME LUCKY opens in theaters on August 7th, 2015.

Overall Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

FANTASTIC FOUR – The Review

A young cast of up-and-coming talent tries their best to save the world, while also attempting to save this struggling film property. Spoiler alert: they only save one of the two. Miles Teller, Michael B. Jordan, Kate Mara, and Jamie Bell are all talented actors who often breathe life into roles. And yet they even seem bored in 20^th Century Fox’s third attempt at depicting “Marvel’s first family.”

The most recent adaptation of Stan Lee and Jack Kirby’s superhero team wants to be a lot of things. Distancing itself from the last filmic failure, this new FANTASTIC FOUR is part character drama, part sci-fi exploration, part coming-of-age story, and part superhero origin film, all painted in a dark and muddy pallet and featuring some of the worst CGI you will see in a theater this year. It has some good ideas bubbling under the surface, but there’s a major clash in tone between some of these ideas. It tries to be a dark and serious film with the super-powered characters being treated more like monsters than heroes, and yet it also includes goofy comic-book style dialogue that feels hokey in a film made in this style. A lame Saturday morning cartoon score is obnoxiously bombastic and glaringly out of place, and only adds to the odd combo of conflicting ideas. I appreciate that this newest comic-book adaptation tries to set itself apart by telling a new version of the story and structuring itself around character development instead of action scenes. But, in the end, a film just doesn’t work when the script is at complete odds with the direction of the film.

We’re first introduced to the characters of Reed Richards and Ben Grimm as little boys. Richards is building a device in his parent’s garage that can transfer particles to an unknown location. Flash forward 7 years and Richards (Miles Teller) and Grimm (Jamie Bell) have now made an updated version for their school’s science fair. Even though the teachers dismiss this invention, a doctor who works for an acclaimed institute and his adoptive daughter Sue Storm (Kate Mara) happen to be walking through the fair – because these types of coincidences happen all the time – and offer Richards the opportunity to build a larger device in their facility. Of course we then meet Johnny Storm (Michael B. Jordan) and Victor Doom (Toby Kebbell) during the building process because this is the Fantastic Four after all. But in this version of the group gaining their powers, the device Richards builds transports them to another dimension; to a planet that is covered in rock formations and neon green goo. Note to self: if you ever get transported to another dimension, don’t touch the neon green goo.

It’s in this middle half after they all get transformed where the film started to pique my interest. An overly drawn out opening feels exactly that, and the final act retreats into the standard heroics we have seen before. The only scenes that really come together take place in the second act. There’s a little bit of a David Cronenberg body horror element once the team arrives back to Earth from the other dimension. We see them disfigured and scared. A genuine sense of fear as to what they are now and what they are capable of is effectively shown. Seeing Reed Richards elongated in an unnatural state and strapped down to a medical table is quite an alarming image. The same can be said when we see Johnny Storm burnt and unconscious, still smoldering from being ignited in flames. These images are frightening and provide a unique alternative look to how super powers are typically shown.

It is moments like this where you can see what Josh Trank was trying to do with the film. Much like his previous film CHRONICLE, he seems to want to show the superheroes as more like outsiders or monsters. It’s a novel idea and it’s closer in tone to what Bryan Singer has done with the X-Men series. But I suspect that too many cooks in the kitchen ruined the original concept. I imagine Trank had an idea, but the result of two other writers and studio heads kept pulling the film into a more sellable product. The dialogue and characterizations go one direction while the visuals and concept go another. It’s like seeing Reed Richards stretched out so thin trying to grasp at polar opposite ideas. Since Josh Trank is no superhero, this task is too much for him to handle.

Considering FANTASTIC FOUR tries to be soooo different and to be soooo many things, it’s sort of shocking how dull it winds up feeling. None of the characterizations, ideas, and themes ever stick. So much is lazily setup, but then never developed enough to make the audience truly care. As these super-team films repeatedly teach us, you can’t save the world unless everyone works together as a team. With FANTASTIC FOUR, there is nothing that works in unison to save it from imminent doom.

Overall rating: 2 out of 5

FANTASTIC FOUR is now playing in theaters everywhere

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Overall rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars

Share this:

TEN THOUSAND SAINTS opens in theaters, On Demand and iTunes August 14th

Share this:

5 out of 5 stars

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Overall Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

Share this:

Share this: