NEW THIS WEEK JANUARY 3, 2025 (IN THEATERS AND ON HOME VIDEO)
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.) https://youtu.be/W45-6crRM-4?si=mSgOWKlWnBPY1Uae
INTERNAL AFFAIRS--Two months before "Pretty Woman" opened and turned him into a rom-com MVP, Richard Gere gave one of his very finest performances as a filthy dirty LAPD officer who preemptively gave Harvey Keitel's "Bad Lieutenant" a run for his money. Unlike Keitel's reprobate cop who looked like he stumbled in from a homeless shelter, Gere's Dennis Peck is one slick operator who looks like he stepped out of the pages of GQ. Peck has eight kids from multiple wives (number nine is on on the way courtesy of Wife #4 played by Annabella Sciorra from Nancy Savoca's "True Love"), and never met a scam he didn't like or profit from. But Peck and his cop buddies (William Baldwin is his most devoted acolyte) have gotten increasingly lazy about covering their tracks, which explains why the department has sent Internal Affairs rising star Raymond Avilla (Andy Garcia) to conduct an investigation into why so many members of their department are living well beyond their means. Stylishly directed by the estimable Mike ("Leaving Las Vegas," "Stormy Monday") Figgis, this January 1990 release was a surprise hit with both critics and audiences: a "surprise" because most movies dumped into the post-holiday killing field were usually DOA dogs. As Peck and Avilla begin an increasingly lethal cat and mouse game, nobody is safe and nothing is sacred, not even Avilla's wife (Nancy Travis, best remembered from Disney's "Three Men and a Baby") who Peck quickly practices his time-tested seduction tropes on. As Avila's no-nonsense partner, the great Laurie Metcalf steals every scene she's in as seemingly the only woman in L.A. who's immune to Peck's oleaginous charm. Seen thirty-plus years later, it's a heartening reminder that major Hollywood studios used to make medium-budgeted films for adult audiences with zero regard for franchise potential. KL Studio Classics' new Blu Ray includes a plethora of extras including an audio commentary track with critics Alan Silver and James Ursini; separate interviews with Figgis, screenwriter Henry Bean and composer Anthony Marinelli; extended/deleted scenes; an alternate ending; and the original theatrical trailer. (A.)
SNAKE EYES--Brian DePalma's follow-up to "Mission Impossible," his biggest box office hit to date, sank without a trace when Paramount dumped it in the dog days of Summer 1998. But, like many DePalma movies that failed to click with critics and audiences at the time of their initial release ("Raising Cain," "Body Double" and "Casualties of War" among them), "Snake Eyes" has picked up a fervent cult following thanks to cable, home video and streaming exposure. Set almost entirely inside an Atlantic City hotel/casino on the night of a heavyweight boxing match, the film stars a typically unhinged Nicolas Cage as Rick Santoro, a police detective who also moonlights as the casino's security head. (The bravura opening sequence used to introduce Rick is a tour de force for DePalma and cinematographer Stephen H. Burum, rivaling the justly famous Copa scene in Scorsese's "GoodFellas.") While seated ringside for the big fight, Rick--and 14,000 members of the audience--witness a brazen assassination attempt on the Secretary of Defense (Joe Fabiani). Pressed into action, Rick begins a single-minded pursuit of the shooter (a suspicious-looking blonde-wigged woman played by Carla Gugino is the most likely suspect). Costarring John Heard (as a Howard Hughes-ish industrialist who knows where all the bodies are buried) and Gary Sinise (Rick's old service buddy and the slain Secretary's head of security), it's a conspiracy thriller par excellence that feels very much like a footnote or addendum to DePalma's 1981 masterpiece, "Blow Out." While it's a bit of a stretch to buy Cage's glad-handling poseur segueing into an avenging angel to save the day, DePalma does such a masterful job of ratcheting up the suspense that any questions of logic (or even psychological coherence) are swept away in a storm of movie-movie madness. The only extras on the newly released KL Studio Classics' Blu Ray are the theatrical trailer and an audio commentary track with film historians Steve Mitchell and Nathaniel Thompson. (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.)
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