NEW THIS WEEK JANUARY 3, 2025 (IN THEATERS AND ON HOME VIDEO)
BETTER MAN--The standard cradle-to-rehab template is turned on its head in "The Greatest Showman" director Michael Gracey's smashing Robbie Williams biopic. Despite selling 80 million albums globally, Williams is hardly a household name in America. Beginning his show biz career as the youngest member of British boy band Take That (I'd never heard of them either), Williams went on to a chart-busting solo career riddled with the usual pop star cliches of addiction, clinical depression and romantic travails. In other words, nothing we haven't seen before in (among others) "Elvis," "Rocket Man" and "Bohemian Rhapsody." What makes Gracey's movie, er, different, and why it's such a blast, is that Williams is played by a CGI chimpanzee (think the digitally enhanced Caesar from the recent "Planet of the Apes" movies). It sounds crazy--and sometimes is--but the fact that it works at all is a tribute to Gracey and Williams who narrates the film and syncs his own dialogue. Despite a somewhat indulgent 135-minute run time, the pacing never lags thanks to a plethora of exhilarating musical production numbers. Good support from Alison Steadman, Steve Pemberton and Nicole Appleton as, respectively, Robbie's grandmother, dad and most significant romantic partner. (B PLUS.)
DEN OF THIEVES 2: PANERA--As one of the rare Gerard Butler actioners that didn't suck, 2018's "Den of Thieves" probably seemed a breath of fresh air at the time. Since Butler had toplined such all-time stinkers as "Geostorm" and the "Fallen" movies ("London" and "Olympus"), the relative competence of director Christian Gudegast's neo-noir was a pleasant surprise for critics and audiences. While no one was exactly clamoring for a sequel, Butler, "Thieves" costar O'Shea Jackson Jr. and Gudegast have reteamed for this belated follow-up anyway. The overly complicated plot involves a Marseilles (yes, passports were stamped) diamond heist in which L.A. gangsta Donnie (Jackson) recruits "Big Nick" O'Brien, Butler's morally compromised cop, to participate in the larceny. Naturally a local mob outfit--the titular "Panera")--also wants a piece of the action. For a January throwaway, it's mildly watchable but not worth leaving the house for. (C.)
THE LAST SHOWGIRL--As a washed-up Vegas showgirl, "Baywatch" alumnus Pamela Anderson has a rare chance to display her chops as a dramatic actress. And she's very good, richly deserving of her recent Golden Globe nomination. Stripped of vanity (and any glossy filters), Anderson gives an unaffected, unstintingly raw performance that feels vaguely autobiographical at times. After learning that "Razzle Dazzle," the cheesy T&A revue she co-headlined for decades, is closing after 38 years, Anderson's Shelly is understandably unmoored. Auditioning for a new job proves humiliating: one prospective employer (smarmily played by Jason Schwartzman) bluntly tells her, "What you sold was young and sexy; you aren't either anymore." Should she settle for a cocktail waitress job like grizzled former cast mate Annette (a scene-stealing Jamie Lee Curtis), or just hightail it out of town? At least Shelly's unexpected reconciliation with her estranged grown daughter (Billie Lourd, very good) portends a positive new chapter in Shelly's life. Sensitively directed by Gia Coppola (yes, Francis Ford Coppola's granddaughter) and shot on location in a remarkable 18 (!) days, the film has a refreshingly naturalistic, lived-in quality which automatically distinguishes it from 99% of standard Hollywood fare. As Shelly's ex and former stage manager, "Guardians of the Galaxy" rep player Dave Bautista displays previously untapped depths of feeling and nuance. He's as much of a revelation as Anderson. (B.)
LET'S GET LOST--Legendary fashion photographer Bruce Weber received an Oscar nomination for directing this 1989 documentary about West Coast jazz trumpeter/singer Chet Baker. With his weathered, yet spookily ageless face, Baker--who looked like Chris Isaak's twin brother in his youth--proved to be a supremely accommodating subject for Weber. (Until he died, that is: Baker fell to his death from an Amsterdam hotel room window in 1988.) What makes the film so haunting and finally ineffable is Weber's artful melding of gorgeously stylized b&w images and Baker's positively incantatory music. Archival footage of Baker in his '50s prime magically reanimate the period's heady jazz scene, and help track his future descent into the ravages of drug addiction. "He was bad, he was trouble and he was beautiful," one of his ex girlfriends says about Baker in the movie's talking heads interviews, and that pretty much sums up the Baker mystique which is still very much alive thanks to his otherworldly recordings. (Listening to them today it's like he's singing directly to you from beyond the grave.) As much epitah as doc, Weber's non-fiction masterpiece ranks among the most singular music films Martin Scorsese never directed. The Kino Classics Blu Ray includes six Weber shorts ("Backyard Movie," Beauty Brothers," "Gentle Giants," "Liberty City is Like Paris to Me," "The Teddy Bears of the Edwardian Drape Society" and "Wine and Cupcakes"), as well as the original theatrical trailer. (A.)
MIRACLE MILE--What would you do if you met your soulmate on the last day of the world? That's the cosmic question bedeviling trombone player Harry (Anthony Edwards, three years after playing Goose in "Top Gun" and four years before signing onto NBC's long-running "E.R.") who has a classic meet-cute with waitress Julie (Mare Winningham, six years prior to her Oscar-nominated turn in "Georgia") at L.A.'s Page Museum. After a dream of a day getting to know each other against the sun-kissed backdrop of Southern California, they make plans to meet later that night when Julie gets off her diner shift. But due to a freak electrical accident, Harry's alarm clock doesn't go off, making him late for their assignation. While waiting/hoping for Julie to show up, Harry answers a nearby pay phone. It's a wrong number: the caller is a soldier stationed at a North Dakota missile base trying to reach his dad to warn him of an impending nuclear strike. With one hour before a potential Armageddon, Harry has to (a) find Julie, and (b) warn anyone else who's willing to listen to him. Director Steve (1988 Melanie Griffith cult favorite "Cherry 2000") De Jarnatt's 1989 "what if?" nail-biter succeeds brilliantly on multiple levels: rom-com; doomsday thriller; and pitch-black social satire. Buoyed by Edwards and Winningham's immensely appealing performances and a dazzling tech soundtrack by Tangerine ("Thief," "Risky Business") Dream, "Miracle Mile" is one of the best movies that, regrettably, almost nobody has ever heard of. Despite largely favorable reviews, it sank without a trace in theatrical release. (I first saw it at a mall theater where eerily considering the plot I was the only person in the auditorium.) Fortunately, KL Studio Classics has just released a deluxe Blu Ray edition that would make Criterion green with envy. There are three separate audio commentary tracks (two featuring De Jarnatt who, sadly, never directed another theatrical film); a plethora of featurettes (including "Johnie's Supporting Cast Reunion Parts 1 and 2," "Scoring 'Miracle Mile'" and "Harry and Julie," a retrospective interview with Edwards and Winningham; De Jarnatt's noirish 1978 short, "Tarzana;" as well as supplementary interviews, storyboards, deleted scenes, outtakes, bloopers, trailers and more. (A.)
SOUNDTRACK TO A COUP D'ETAT--Belgian director Johan Grimonprez's dense video essay incorporates home video footage, newsreels, diplomatic exchanges, archival interviews and even vintage newspaper clippings to tell the collage-like story of the rise and fall of Congo leader Patrice Lumumba. Considering the fact that Oscar-nominated director Raul ("I Am Not Your Negro") extensively covered Lumumba in both a 1991 documentary ("Lumumba: Death of a Prophet") and his 2000 Lumumba biopic, it's a testament to Grimonprez's unrelenting focus that his film still manages to seem springtime fresh. Largely centered on the events of 1960--when Lumumba was elected the the Democratic Republic of Congo's first Prime Minister before his country gained independence from Belgium--Grimonprez makes a persuasive case that America's then-brewing civil rights movement and American jazz musicians like Dizzy Gillespie, Nina Simone, Abbey Lincoln and Louis Armstrong were somehow instrumental in Lumumba's unrequited dream of a "United States of Africa." Used as a pawn by both the U.S.S.R. (Nikita Khrushchev's U.N. denunciation of American racism and African genocide comes across as more than a tad disingenuous considering his country's checkered history) and U.S.A. President Eisenhower. The fact that it all boiled down to who controlled the Congo's mineral resources shouldn't be terribly surprising. Nor should it be a revelation that the C.I.A. was instrumental in Lumumba's eventual 1961 assassination. Grimonprez doesn't even have to mention that the blood still being shed in present-day Congo boils is because of another precious resource (coltan, instrumental in the manufacture of iPhones). Kino Lorber's Blu Ray includes a Q&A with Grimonprez courtesy of the International Documentary Association. (A.)
NOW AVAILABLE IN THEATERS, ON HOME VIDEO AND/OR STREAMING CHANNELS:
BABYGIRL--The naughtiest movie of the year--and the most wildly inappropriate Christmas Day wide release since 2020's "Promising Young Woman"--stars Nicole Kidman as Remy, the high-powered CEO of a robotics company who recklessly embarks upon a sado-masochistic affair with eager-beaver intern Samuel (Harris Dickinson from "The Iron Claw" and "Triangle of Sadness"). Remy's major kink is flirting with personal and professional disaster, and she's got a lot to lose besides her eight-figure job including a devoted husband (Antonio Banderas) and two teenage daughters (Esther McGregor and Vaughn Riley) who adore her. Director Halina ("Bodies, Bodies, Bodies") Reijn keeps the action consistently steamy, and Kidman obliges with her bravest, most uninhibited performance to date. (At 57, she does more nudity here than she has in her entire career.) The fact that Reijn chooses not to punish Remy for her, uh, transgressions is possibly the film's most subversive and satisfying element. And why it's likely to develop a future cult following among women of a certain age. (B PLUS.)
THE BEAST--A dazzlingly ambitious, remarkably accomplished omnibus film freely adapted from the Henry James novella, "The Beast in the Jungle," director Bertrand ("Saint Laurent," "House of Pleasures") Bonello's well-nigh uncategorizable coup de maitre is one of 2024's most sublime cinematic achievements. Lea Seydoux and George MacKay play (sort of) lovers in three separate timelines, all of whom are named Gabrielle and Louis: Paris circa 1910; 2010's Los Angeles; and 2044 Paris. The belle epoque section's Gabrielle and Louis are the most classically Jamesian characters, flitting about high society and toying with each other's hearts without ever consummating their repressed ardor. (When they both perish in a freak flood, I was reminded of the drowned newlyweds at the bottom of a lake in Ken Russell's "Women in Love.") In the David Lynch-ian L.A. chapter, Gabrielle is house-sitting in a glass mansion when she encounters a mopey incel (Louis) who becomes erotically fixated on her. Lynch's "Mulholland Drive" (Seydoux is amusingly coiffed to resemble that film's Naomi Watts) is a key stylistic reference point, and there's even a red-curtain climax and Roy Orbison needle drop (recalling even earlier Lynch Hall of Famers, 1992's "Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me" and 1986's "Blue Velvet"). The most disturbing strand is the futuristic one in which artificial intelligence has essentially overtaken the world. At an employment agency, a disembodied voice informs Gabrielle that human emotions make her unemployable and suggests that she undergo a cleansing process that effectively erases people's feelings. When the first incarnation of Louis confesses to Gabrielle that he believes his life will be defined by tragedy, it sets up an existentialist domino effect that crosses over into each dimension of Bonello's multi-strand narrative. Ghostly and gorgeous, the movie casts an enigmatic spell that lingers long after the haunting ending. The newly issued Janus Contemporaries Blu Ray includes an interview with Bonello as well as the theatrical trailer. (A.)
A COMPLETE UNKNOWN--Historical accuracy is less important in biopics than how well the film captures emotional and psychological truths about the real-life protagonist, and how accurately it captures the period setting. Judged on those terms, James ("Walk the Line," "Ford v Ferrari") Mangold's Bob Dylan movie is an unqualified triumph. Tracking Dylan's career trajectory from the 19-year-old Minnesota native hitchhiking to New York City in 1961 to the 1965 Newport Folk Festival where he scandalized purists by going electric, Mangold and co-writer Jay ("Gangs of New York," "The Age of Innocence") Cocks' screenplay keep the action briskly streamlined and unstintingly authentic. As the young Bob, Timothee Chalamet gives the sort of transformative performance--he brilliantly, and seemingly effortlessly, captures the Dylan ethos, and even does his own singing--that deserves to become legendary. But the entire cast is pretty much flawless: Edward Norton (as saintly folk icon Pete Seeger), Elle Fanning (playing a thinly veiled version of Dylan's creative and political muse Suze Rotolo), Monica Barbaro (positively incendiary as Joan Baez), Scoot McNairy (an ailing Woody Guthrie), Dan Fogler (longtime Dylan manager Albert Grossman), Boyd Holbrook (Dylan penpal Johnny Cash) and Norbert Leo Butz (ethnomusicologist and Newport Festival major domo Alan Lomax who took great personal offense at Dylan veering off the folkie course by wading into rock and roll waters). It makes the perfect companion piece to Martin Scorsese's transcendent four-hour 2005 Dylan documentary, "No Direction Home," which covered the exact same frame in Dylan's biography. (A.)
THE DAMNED--Set in 19th century Iceland, first-time director Porour Paisson's ghost story cum morality tale is as visually and aurally striking (Eli Arenson did the high-contrast cinematography; Stephen McKeon contributed a nerve-rattling score) as it is dramatically malnourished. When the residents of a tiny fishing village unilaterally decide not to aid a capsizing boat, they're collectively--and individually--haunted by the doomed vessel's drowned victims. As Eva, the steely young widow who serves as the town's de facto mayor, Odessa ("The Order," "My First Film") Young does her best with an underwritten role. When everyone begins seeing spooky shadows in the dark (ghosts of the dead sailors perhaps?), Paisson piles on the jump scares to increasingly diminishing, monotonous effect. Not even strong performances from Young and Joe Cole (Eva's employee/potential romantic partner) can course correct Paisson's sinking ship. (C PLUS.)
8 1/2--"'8 1/2' is to me the film that captures what it actually is like to be a film director making a movie," Terry Gilliam enthuses in his introduction to the Criterion Collection Blu-Ray of Federico Fellini's 1963 magnum opus. So titled because it was Fellini's seventh feature (he contributed three "half" contributions to omnibus films), "8 1/2" ranks among the most dazzlingly cinematic works of all time, an intellectual and artistic exercise of the first rank. Of its importance there can be no question: it's a masterwork by one of the greatest filmmakers, his definitive personal statement about the creative process. Marcello Mastroianni (who else?) plays Fellini alter ego Guido Anselmi, a director whose life and art become hopelessly intertwined in his three-ring imagination of sexual fantasies as he ponders his next film. Equal parts quasi-autobiography and cinematic celebration, it's as magical and quintessentially Fellini-esque as ever. Despite--or maybe because of--the world-weary pose, sexist romps and self-serving portrayal of the artist as a man above the petty concerns of mere mortals, it's a delightful piece of filmmaking ripe with imaginative flights of creative delirium and accomplished with wit, grace and a tongue-in-cheek joy. Fellini keeps winking at us, as if not to take it all too seriously. Dazzled by the technique, we watch and listen with fascination, captives for the duration. It's only at the end are we struck with the realization that the heart has not been touched or the spirit moved. The final message, embodied in the dance and little circus boy, makes one remember the angel girl at the end of "La Dolce Vita:" was she the virtue Marcello could no longer recognize in himself, or another temptation for the jaded paparazzi? That child in the vast mosaic embodied in "La Dolce Vita" still lingers in the memory memory; it is Fellini's technique and intellect that most impress in "8 1/2." For the record, this was the second Fellini movie to inspire a Broadway musical, Maury Yestin and Arthur Kopit's "Nine." "Sweet Charity," based on Fellini's "Nights of Cabiria," preceded it by 16 years. Besides Gilliam's effusive introduction, the Criterion package includes a 4K disc and Blu-Ray copy of the film with generous bonus features. There's an erudite commentary track with critics Antonio Monda and Gideon Bachmann; "Fellini: A Director's Notebook," a short film by Fellini; interviews with director Lina Wertmuller, cinematographer Vittorio Storaro and actress Sandra Milo; "The Last Sequence," a documentary on Fellini's lost alternate ending for "8 1/2;" "Nino Rota: Between Cinema and Concert," a profile of Fellini's longtime composer; behind-the-scenes and production photos; an essay by Time Magazine critic Stephanie Zacharek; and rare photographs from Bachmann's private collection. (A PLUS.)
EVIL DOES NOT EXIST--To describe Academy Award-winning director Ryusuke Hamaguchi's mesmerizing follow-up to 2021's "Drive My Car" as a quasi mystical Japanese eco fable probably makes it sound like a Hayao Miyazaki anime which this decidedly isn't. Takumi (Hitoshi Omika), Hamaguchi's widowed protagonist, raises his young daughter Hana (Ryo Nishikawa) in a bucolic rural village where he makes a comfortable-enough living as a handyman. Among Takumi's numerous gig economy jobs is picking wild wasabi for a friend's celebrated udon restaurant; local spring water is another key ingredient. Things take a dramatic turn when two glad-handling Tokyo corporate reps Takahashi and Mayuzummi (Ryuji Kosaka and Ayaka Shibutani) show up one day with plans to build a glamping resort so monied city slickers can luxuriate in the pristine hamlet's natural beauty. The irony, of course, is that construction will negatively impact the community's delicate ecosystem, including the removal of a neighboring deer trail. Despite the general disapproval of the locals, Takumi allows himself to be seduced into quasi-agreeing to take the job of on-site caretaker for the future tourist hot spot. Takumi and Takahashi eventually come to blows in a wintry sylvan setting, and Hana--who has a preternatural connection to nature--seemingly vanishes into the ether. (Or did she?) Unexpectedly for a film and filmmaker whose defining characteristic is unadorned naturalism, it inexorably builds to the sort of breathtakingly cryptic, "What did I just see?" ending that will make you want to rewatch it immediately for possible clues to unlocking its central enigma. The Janus Contemporaries Blu-Ray includes a new interview with Hamaguchi and the theatrical trailer (A.)
THE FIRE INSIDE--Flint, Michigan native Claressa Shields, the first American woman to win an Olympic gold medal in boxing (an achievement she would repeat four years later), is the subject of cinematographer Rachel ("Black Panther," "Mudbound") Morrison's rousing directorial debut. ("Moonlight" director Barry Jenkins wrote the first-rate screenplay and produced.) While feel-good underdog sports movies have been a Hollywood commonplace since time immemorial, Morrison, Jenkins and their fiery leading lady, star-in-the-making Ryan Destiny (Jazmin Headley plays Shields as a youngster), bring so much grit, heart and soul to their time-tested formula that it's well-nigh irresistible. As security guard-turned-coach Jason Crutchfield who mentored Clareesa from her early teens to dual Olympic victories in 2012 and 2016, Brian Tyree Henry proves once again that he's among the most reliable scene-stealers in contemporary cinema. There hasn't been a female boxing flick since Karyn Kusama's 2000 "Girlfight" (which launched "Fast and the Furious" mainstay Michelle Rodriguez's screen career), and Morrison has made a very good one. It deserves to become one of the holiday season's major sleepers. (B PLUS.)
GLADIATOR 2--Bigger, noisier and replete with all the frequently dodgy CGI a 2024 mega-production can afford, Ridley Scott's "legacy" sequel to his Oscar-winning sword-and-sandal blockbuster inevitably pales in comparison with the Russell Crowe original. Set 16 years after the original film ended, the story picks up when Maximus and Lucilla's now-grown son Lucius (Paul Mescal) is captured by General Marcus Acacius (Pedro Pascal) and brought to Rome as a gladiator-in-training. The fact that Acacius is now married to Lucilla (Connie Nielsen reprising her role from the 2000 movie) adds a potentially interesting Oedipal dimension to the plot that screenwriter David Scarpa stubbornly refuses to develop. Under the tutelage of Macrinus (Denzel Washington), the Don King of Ancient Rome, Lucius becomes the most fearsome gladiator on the block. The Colosseum is flooded for full-scale sea battles (yes, there are sharks) and even rhinos are enlisted to battle the combatants. Despite amusing support from Fred Hechinger and Joseph Quinn as mincing twin emperors Caracella and Geta, the movie is largely devoid of humor. Washington does his usual pro job and Pascal impresses in an underwritten role, but the biggest problem is the miscasting of Mescal. One of those interchangeable British pretty boys who, for some unfathomable reason, has become Hollywood's latest flavor du jour, Mescal lacks both the gravitas, musculature and thesping chops to make Lucius a compelling screen presence. It's hard to believe this neurasthenic wimp could ever rise to become the savior of Rome. Since every movie is a trilogy these days, the ending feels like the set-up for yet another sequel. If that happens, I hope the powers-that-be have the foresight to recast Lucius with another actor who could make a more convincing gladiator supreme. (C.)
MOANA 2--This cash-grab sequel to Disney's 2016 animated hit began life as a Disney+ spin-off series and looks it. The trio of directors (David G. Derrick Jr., Dana Leydoux Miller and Jason Hand) desperately try recapturing the magic of the original, but fall short in nearly every department. Tasked with finding the lost island of Motufetu, Polynesian pixie Moana (Auli'i Cravalho) and heavily tatted demi god Maui (Dwayne Johnson) sail across the uncharted waters of Oceania. And did I mention that multi-tasker Moana must also battle the demon Nabo to remove her family curse? Despite its narrative busyness, the film lacks both suspense and wit. None of the new, not-written-by-Lin-Manuel-Miranda songs are remotely memorable (let alone hummable) either. Young kids who grew up on the "Moana" DVD probably won't mind the blandness and predictability, but it's unlikely to engender the sort of passion that helped make its predecessor the most-watched movie of the past five years. (C MINUS.)
MUFASA: THE LION KING--Sadly, this prequel to Disney's 1994 masterpiece isn't an animated film. Instead it's faux live action in the same way Jon Favreau's gratuitous 2019 reboot was. In other words, so slavishly dependent on CGI trickery that it seems more cartoonishly unreal than any actual 'toon. Inexplicably directed by the prodigiously gifted Barry ("Moonlight," "The Underground Railroad") Jenkins--I guess he was looking for a quick payday to help finance future indie productions--it chronicles the origins of King Mufasa (memorably voiced in previous incarnations by the late James Earl Jones who the movie is dedicated to) as a bedtime story to lion cub Kiara (Blue Ivy Carter), the daughter of Simba (Donald Glover) and Nala (Beyonce). Providing unneeded support are Timon and Pumbaa (Billy Eichner and Seth Rogen) whose vaudeville act is replete with wink-wink, nudge-nudge meta jokes that will soar over the heads of most kiddies. Most of the action involves ferocious white lion Kiros (Mads Mikkelsen, the film's designated Scar surrogate, stalking orphan cub Mufasa (Aaron Pierre) and protector pal Taka (Kelvin Harrison Jr.). There are several new Lin-Manuel Miranda songs, too, but none can hold a candle to "Can You Feel the Love Tonight?," "Circle of Life" or any of the original "King" tunes. While superior to Disney's other 2024 releases ("Moana 2," "Inside Out 2," "Deadpool + Wolverine," etc.), it's further proof that the 21st century Mouse House is seemingly incapable of coming up with a single original thought in its ginormous corporate head. (C.)
NOSFERATU--The titular blood-sucker is just Bram Stoker's Count Dracula by a different name (F.W. Murnau's 1922 original essentially ripped off Stoker's book without bothering to pay for the literary rights), and fanboy fave Robert ("The Witch," "The Northman") Eggers' handsome reboot dutifully plays by the rules of the vampire movie template. German real estate agent Thomas Hutter (Nicholas Hoult, unaccountably bland) is summoned to Transylvania to meet with a prospective new client (Bill Skarsgard's Count Orloff) about the crumbling mansion he intends to buy in Hutter's Teutonic village. Meanwhile, Hutter's new bride Ellen (Lily-Rose Depp in the film's best performance) anxiously awaits his return while staying with family friends Friedrich and Anna Harding (Aaron Taylor-Johnson and Emma Corrin). Once Orloff finally arrives in town, things go from weird to terrifying: he even brings along a plague of rats with him. Because Ellen has a psychic connection with Orloff (it's a long story), she's easy prey for the Count's, er, peculiar courtship rituals. As the designated Van Helsing surrogate, Willem Dafoe (whose casting is a cinephile in-joke since he played Murnau's Nosferatu, the ineffable Max Schreck, in 2000's making-of-"Nosferatu" arthouse hit "Shadow of the Vampire") provides a few stray giggles, but the cast is generally a mixed bag. (Taylor-Johnson gives the first bad performance of his career.) Despite some weak dialogue and rather somnambulant pacing, the movie is still worth seeing for an incandescent Depp and Jarin Blaschke's stunning desaturated cinematography. For the record, Werner Herzog's 1979 "Nosferatu" and Francis Ford Coppola's "Bram Stoker's Dracula" (1992) remain the gold standards for modern-age vampire flicks. (B.)
PAPER MOON--The third perfect movie in Peter Bogdanovich's amazing string of early 1970's critical and box-office smashes ("The Last Picture Show" and "What's Up, Doc?" preceded it), "Paper Moon" was infinitely superior to the other 1973 period con man movie (George Roy Hill's "The Sting"). Yet Bogdanovich's masterpiece didn't even rate a Best Picture or Director nomination from AMPAS while Hill's year-end blockbuster swept the field. The film, did, however win 9-year-old Tatum O'Neal a Best Supporting Actress Oscar--she remains the youngest competitive Academy Award-winner--for her astonishing thesping debut. As Addie, an orphaned tomboy in Dust Bowl Oklahoma who latches onto smooth-talking Bible salesman Moses Pray (Tatum's real-life father, Ryan) and won't let go, Ms. O'Neal so thoroughly dominates the movie that it's easy to overlook the wonderful performances surrounding her. Besides O'Neal pere (never better), there's fantastic support from Madeline Kahn (also Oscar-nominated as Trixie Delight, the hoity-toity floozy Moses becomes briefly infatuated with), P.J. Johnson (hysterically funny as Trixie's deadpan Black maid, Imogene) and Bogdanovich rep player John Hillerman in a fun dual role as a scurrilous bootlegger and his crooked sheriff brother. Shot in luminous black and white by ace New Hollywood cinematographer Laszlo ("Easy Rider," "Five Easy Pieces") Kovacs, "Moon" is that rare period film that seems to get even the tiniest details right. And two-time Oscar winner Alvin ("Ordinary People," Julia") Sargent's screenplay does a superb job of compressing/condensing Joe David Brown's 1971 source novel, "Addie Pray." Trivia note: it was Bogdanovich compadre Orson Welles who first suggested retitling the screen adaptation "Paper Moon," inspired by the 1933 song co-written by Harold Arlen and Yip Harburg. ("That title is so good, you shouldn't even make the picture, just release the title," Welles legendarily opined.) Besides Bogdanovich's audio commentary, the Criterion Collection Blu-Ray includes an introduction to the film by Bogdanovich; a new video essay by Bogdanovich biographer Peter Tonguette; a three-part making-of documentary with Bogdanovich, cinematographer Laszlo Kovacs, production designer Polly Platt and associate producer Frank Marshall; an archival interview with Platt; excerpts from a 1973 episode of Johnny Carson's "Tonight Show" with Bogdanovich and Ryan and Tatum O'Neal; location-scouting footage with Marshall's audio commentary; and an essay by Mark ("Pictures at a Revolution") Harris that's only spoiled by his bonkers, albeit fashionably revisionist claim that Platt was a co-equal auteur of Bogdanovich's early hits. Balderdash. (A PLUS.)
SONIC THE HEDGEHOG 3--The "Sonic" kidflicks have basically turned into "sign of life" messages from the otherwise MIA Jim Carrey. In the latest edition of the Paramount/Nickelodeon franchise based on SEGA's video game behemoth, Carrey's reliably amusing scene-stealer Dr. Robotnik turns into an unexpected ally of Sonic, Tails and Knuckles when a new villain (Shadow the Hedgehog) enters the fray with a dastardly plot to destroy the world. Once again directed by Jeff Fowler (who also helmed the 2020 and 2022 entries), it's no great shakes but should have no trouble satisfying its target demo of Hedgehog-loving grade-schoolers. And Carrey's go for broke Commedia dell'arte performance will prove fitfully amusing for any grown-up hoodwinked into chaperoning the wee bairns. (C PLUS.)
WICKED--The most iconic and beloved Broadway musical since "Phantom of the Opera," Stephen Schwartz and Winnie Holzman's 2003 Broadway smash has finally made its (long-delayed) transfer to the big screen. Directed by "Crazy Rich Asians" auteur John M. Chu who proved his movie musical bona fides with 2021's "In the Heights," the only puzzling aspect is that it's actually a "Part One" (something conspicuously absent from the marketing campaign: the concluding chapter arrives same time next year). Putting aside the fact that it's somewhat baffling how one-half of the screen version can be a half hour longer than the original stage production, Chu serves up a veritable smorgasbord of riches with his "Wizard of Oz" prequel. Mostly set at Shiz University where future Wicked and Good Witches Elphaba ("Harriet" Oscar nominee Cynthia Erivo) and Galinda (pop star Ariana Grande) are reluctant roommates who become BFFs despite their surface differences (Elphaba is green-complexioned and slightly dorky while the almost illegally blonde Galinda is the original Mean Girl, but nicer). Naturally there's a boy involved--Jonathan Bailey's Prince Fiyero--who sets up a nascent love triangle. Groomed as her protege by Dean of Sorcery Studies Madame Morrible (Michelle Yeoh, the sole weak-ish link in an otherwise nonpareil cast), Elphaba quickly becomes a thorn in the side of Oz's preening Wizard (Jeff Goldblum, perfectly cast) for protesting his nascent fascistic tendencies (the kingdom's talking animals are treated like second-class citizens and effectively stifled). Thanks to Nathan Crowley's fantastic art deco production design, the film is as visually dazzling as it is timely in the wake of this year's presidential election where division and fear of "the other" ruled the day. Rather than feeling bloated, the luxurious 160-minute run time instead provides ample room to establish Oz's rich mythology. It also works beautifully as a standalone movie: no one will leave unsatisfied despite the lack of a conventional "ending."
(A MINUS.)
---Milan Paurich
