NEW THIS WEEK SEPTEMBER 13, 2024 (IN THEATERS AND ON HOME VIDEO)
KILLER'S GAME--The latest attempt to turn "Guardians of the Galaxy" rep player Dave Bautista into a movie star is fitfully amusing, but too familiar to leave much of a lasting impression. Bautista plays Joe Flood, a veteran hired assassin who, after receiving a terminal medical diagnosis, orders his own hit. The real "fun" begins when Joe attempts to cancel the hit after learning he was misdiagnosed--and that his ex girlfriend (Sofia Boutella) has also become a target. Among the steely cadre of contract killers itching to take him down are Terry Crews and Scott Adkins, but the biggest impression is made by a cast-against-type Ben Kingsley as the Big Bad who's calling the shots. Director J.J. Perry, best known for the 2022 Netflix movie "Day Shift" which starred Jamie Foxx as a modern-day vampire hunter, does a better job handling the (frequent) action setpieces than he does with characterization (largely nonexistent) or performances (merely serviceable). It's the kind of glorified "B" movie that audiences have grown accustomed to streaming online. Whether anyone actually leaves the house to see it remains to be seen. (C.) https://youtu.be/uMCS72WvOyo?si=x_A5pbqc99EiMYBA
SORRY, NOT SORRY--The birth of Cancel Culture, #MeToo and #TimesUp can all be traced back to the 2016 presidential election. After Donald Trump, despite numerous widely chronicled allegations of sexual assault and rape, effectively became untouchable, any prominent man accused of sexual misconduct suddenly became persona non grata. Among them was multi-hyphenate Louis C.K., best known as the auteur of his groundbreaking, award-winning FX series, "Louie." Unlike most of the men whose careers were burned in Trumpian effigy (including Charlie Rose, Matt Lauer and Kevin Spacey), C.K. never really went away. After a brief period of time, he resumed his stand-up career, even recording an album that won him a Grammy. The gist of Cara Mones and Caroline Suh's documentary is that C.K. received an "unearned pardon," and should have been banished from the spotlight for life. As someone who values art over an artist's personal life (it's none of my business--or yours for that matter), I'm still incensed that FX cancelled "Louie" and that C.K.'s auspicious filmmaking career never recovered from the scandal. (His first film as writer/director/star, "I Love You, Daddy," was actually pulled from release after having premiered to raves at the 2017 Toronto Film Festival) While I find the entire premise of Mones and Suh's movie objectionable, I was pleasantly surprised at the level of nuance they manage to bring to the discussion. No extras on the Greenwich/Kino Lorber DVD although I was hardly expecting a sit-down interview with C.K. who (understandably) didn't participate in the making of this film. (B.)
SPEAK NO EVIL--Unlike most English-language remakes of transgressive Euro thrillers that inevitably manage to lose something in translation even when they're helmed by the original directors (e.g., Michael Haneke's "Funny Games" and George Sluizer's "The Vanishing"), James ("Eden Lake") Watkins' slick gloss on Christian Tafdrup's bleakly nihilistic Danish shocker is nearly as disturbingly effective as the original. (It might be even more impactful if you haven't seen the 2022 original.) When Ben and Louise (Scoot McNairy and Mackenzie Davis) accept an invitation from the friendly couple (James McAvoy and Aisling Franciosi) they met on vacation to spend a weekend at their country home, things quickly escalate from mildly disturbing to flat-out terrifying. As good as McNairy and Davis are in their unofficial "Halt and Catch Fire" reunion, the movie truly belongs to a superb McAvoy whose tour de force performance turns from rakishly charming to menacing on a dime. (B.)
TWO WEEKS IN SEPTEMBER--After becoming a worldwide star (and sex symbol) in 1956's "And God Created Women," Brigitte Bardot made a lot of movies. Some were great (e.g., Godard's "Contempt"), but most of them were fairly disposable boulevard fare like this 1967 throwaway. A return to French-language cinema for Oscar-winning "Sundays and Cybele" director Serge Bourguignon after his regrettable pit stop in Hollywood (1965's woebegone "The Reward"), this B.B. vehicle is largely for completists. Bardot plays Cecile, a married Parisian model who has a whirlwind affair with a younger man (Laurent Terzieff's Vincent) during a two-week London fashion shoot. Bourguignon tries capturing some of the same Carnaby Street pizzazz as "Blow Up," but it all feels a tad second-hand next to that Antonioni masterpiece. Even worse, the lugubrious Vincent hardly seems worthy of a vivacious free spirit like Cecile. The most endearing thing about him is a pet dog which never leaves his side until he and Cecile run off to Scotland for their multi-day tryst. (Apparently Vincent left the pup unattended in his hotel room because he's still there when he returns. Hmmm.) The estimable Jean Rochefort, before becoming one of the leading French actors of his generation, has a few brief scenes as Cecile's cuckolded husband, and future "Myra Breckinridge"/"Joanna" director Michael Sarne plays a flirty fashion photographer whose advances Cecile rebuffs. The Kino Classics' Blu Ray includes historian Adrian Martin's audio commentary and a trailer for Jean Aurel's 1969 sex comedy, "Les Femmes," starring Bardot and Maurice Ronet. I haven't seen that film, but it definitely looks livelier than "Two Weeks in September." (C MINUS.)
WINNER--A worthy companion piece to Sydney Sweeney's HBO movie, "Reality," this creative reunion between the director (Susanna Fogel) and star (Emilia Jones) of 2023's "Cat Person" serves up a more conventionally structured, but no less impactful version of NSA whistleblower Reality Winner's harrowing true-life story. (The F.B.I. interrogation of Winner comprised the entirety of "Reality" which was told in real time using official transcripts.) Tracking its subject's journey from childhood to her 2021 release from prison, the film does a creditable job of explaining the "who" (is Reality) and "why" (she did it). Jones, best known for the Oscar-winning "CODA," beautifully captures the frequently off-putting abrasiveness, aching human vulnerability and steadfast idealism/patriotism of a Navy vet whose decision to leak a single classified document offering irrefutable proof of Russia's interference in the 2016 presidential election nearly destroyed her life. Besides Jones' tour de force performance which solidly anchors the film, there are stellar supporting turns from Connie Britton, Zach Galifianakis, Kathryn Newton and Danny Ramirez as, respectively, Reality's parents, sister and boyfriend.
NOW AVAILABLE IN THEATERS, ON HOME VIDEO AND/OR STREAMING CHANNELS:
ALIEN ROMULUS--As someone who's liked, and sometimes loved, every "Alien" movie since the 1979 Ridley Scott original (I'm actually someone who thinks David Fincher's reviled "Alien 3" is a misunderstood masterpiece), I was understandably gung-ho about a new version populated with mostly unknown actors ("Priscilla"/"Civil War" breakout Cailee Spaeny and former Dora the Explorer Isabela Merced are the only familiar faces in the cast). Directed by Fade Alvarez who struck paydirt with 2016 sleeper "Don't Breathe," but fared less well with "The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest," a misguided 2018 sequel to Fincher's "The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo," it's a creditable addition to a 45-year-old IP, The most interesting thing about Alvarez's film is how stripped-down and elemental it feels. Youthful colonizers at an abandoned space station encounter, well, alien monsters who quickly make mincemeat out of them. Because she's the biggest "name" actor here, it's not surprising that Spaeny would fill the designated Last Girl Standing (Ripley in "Alien"-verse) role. But getting there is mostly good, icky fun, even if some of the jump scares seem a little phoned-in. I'm not sure whether "Romulus" will launch a brand-new franchise, but I'd gladly watch Spaeny in anything. Yes, she's that good. (B.)
ANSELM--If the late Rainer Werner Fassbinder was the "Father" of the German New Wave's Holy Trinity and mystic visionary Werner Herzog the "Holy Ghost," then Wim ("Wings of Desire," "Paris, Texas") Wenders should rightfully be designated the "Son." Having observed firsthand Germany's postwar "Economic Miracle"--largely fueled by American capitalism and technology--it's no wonder he became the most America-obsessed of the filmmaking trio. That economic dominance inadvertently produced a form of cultural imperialism which conveniently erased Germany's Nazi past. According to Wenders, "the need to forget 20 years created a hole, and people tried to cover this up by assimilating American culture." Ironically, the subject of Wenders' latest documentary, painter/sculptor Anselm Kiefer, made his career out of a personal reckoning with German history, including the Holocaust and Nazis. His first major work, 1969's controversial action piece "Heroic Figures," was a series of photographs in which Kiefer (ironically) gives the Nazi salute. Mortality, permanence, being and nothingness have been major themes throughout the 79-year-old Kiefer's remarkably prolific career. (An abandoned French airplane hangar was the only place large enough to house a lifetime of work.) "Anselm" isn't a conventional "Great Artist" documentary in which the arc of a subject's life is relayed through reams of archival footage and admiring talking-heads interviews with colleagues, friends and family members. Instead of an air-brushed biographical sketch, Wenders' film is instead the study of a man told almost exclusively through his art. With its free-form blending of animation, re-enactments of Kiefer's past (Wenders' great nephew, Anton, plays Kiefer as a boy; Kiefer's own son, Daniel, portrays him as a young man) and Kiefer's poetic, frequently political, occasionally rambling musings on his life, art/work and times, Wenders' portrait of the man emerges. Shot in 6K resolution, cinematographer Franz Lustig's mobile, floating-in-space 3-D imagery achieves a remarkably tactile effect: it's immersive in every sense of the word. The Janus Contemporaries new Blu-Ray set includes both 3-D and 2-D versions of the film, as well as an interview with Wenders and the theatrical trailer. (A MINUS.)
BEETLEJUICE, BEETLEJUICE--Like another recent 36-years-later sequel ("Top Gun: Maverick"), Tim Burton's belated follow-up to his 1988 sleeper hit proves to have been well worth the wait. Winona Ryder reprises her role of Goth teen princess Lydia, now a widowed cable TV host with an angsty teenage daughter (Jenna Ortega's Astrid) of her own. Returning to Winter River, Connecticut for her dad's funeral, Lydia decides to shoot an episode of her "Ghost House" series at--where else?--her spook-laden family home. It isn't long before Michael Keaton's irrepressible Beetlejuice hones in on the action, even serving as a couples therapist for Lydia and her obnoxious producer-fiancee Rory (Justin Theroux). Despite being haunted by fearsome ex Delores (Monica Bellucci) who spends a good chunk of the movie reassembling her dead body piece by piece (they're conveniently stored in separate boxes), Beetlejuice sets his marital sights on Lydia. The climactic "wedding," scored to Richard Harris' "MacArthur Park," ranks among the most demented and hilarious setpieces of Burton's gloriously bonkers career. Also back for the ghoulish festivities are Catherine O'Hara as Lydia's pathologically self-absorbed artist stepmom Delia and the iconic "Shrunken Head Bob." Playing former "B" actor Wolf Jackson who now heads the afterlife police, Willem Dafoe steals every scene he's in. While Burton has had more misses than hits this century, "Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice" proves he's still got the right stuff. And major props to Burton for making a 2024 franchise tentpole that runs a mere 108 minutes; the original was 92 (!) minutes. (A MINUS.)
DEADPOOL AND WOLVERINE--Probably the most critic-proof movie of the year, this rambunctious "R"-rated pairing of Marvel titans Deadpool and Wolverine should have no trouble ruling the box office roost for the rest of the summer. Besides being catnip for fanboys/girls, it's decent lowbrow fun for anyone with a nihilistic sense of humor and a tolerance for snarky ultra-violence. Deadpool/Wade Wilson Ryan Reynolds' re-teaming with his "Free Guy" director Shawn Levy proves fortuitous since they once again bring out the best in each other, and Jackman's chronically dyspeptic Wolverine just seems happy to be along for the ride. (B.)
FAREWELL MY CONCUBINE--Chen ("The Emperor and the Assassin," "Life on a String") Kaige's 1993 arthouse smash has always felt like the movie David Lean could have made if he'd elected to follow "Lawrence of Arabia" and "Dr. Zhivago" with a Chinese-language historical romance. Despite being the first Asian film to win Cannes' Palme d'Or where it shared top honors with Jane Campion's "The Piano," 16 minutes were chopped off the original 171-minute run time by Miramax major domo Harvey "Scissorhands" Weinstein prior to the U.S. release. Finally restored to the "Cannes Cut," Criterion Collection's gorgeous new 4K Blu Ray rendering is a cause for rejoice in all self-respecting cinephile households. Along with Zhang ("Raise the Red Lantern," "Shanghai Triad") Yimou, Chen was one of the leading lights of China's "Fifth Generation" of filmmakers. A member of Mao's army in his youth, Chen frequently referred to "Concubine" as his official mea culpa for having publicly denounced his own father at the time. Spanning fifty tunultous years, this glorious old-fashioned epic--with staggering Technicolor vistas courtesy of director of photography Gu Changwei--boldly uses the wide-screen format to tell a surprisingly intimate story about the lifelong friendship between two wildly disparate orphans (brawny Duan Xiaolou and androgynous Cheng Dieyi) apprenticed to the Beijing Opera as children. During the '40s Japanese occupation, the duo makes the acquaintance of House of Blossoms' courtesan Juxian (Yimou muse Gong Li), inaugurating a love triangle which creates an irreconcilable rift between Xiaolou (Zhang Fengyi) and Dieyi (best known for his starring roles in John Woo's "A Better Tomorrow" and Wong Kar-Wai's swoon-worthy gay romance, "Happy Together") who still harbors an unrequited crush on his boyhood pal. The movie heartbreakingly climaxes in the aftermath of Mao's Cultural Revolution when loyalties, and even love, were crushed by government-mandated political dogma. The Criterion disc includes a new conversation between Chinese cultural studies scholar Michael Berry and producer Janet Yang; a 2003 documentary about the making of the film; Chen's 1993 American television interview with Charlie Rose; and an essay by author/scholar Pauline Chen. (A.)
THE FRONT ROOM--It shouldn't be terribly surprising that the first film written and directed by fanboy favorite Robert ("The Witch," "The Northmen") Eggers' brothers, Max and Sam, would also be deeply strange and, yes, visually striking. (Max cowrote Robert's "The Lighthouse.) The movie's real ace in the hole is character actor extraordinaire Kathryn Hunter--best known for her shape-shifting, ambidextrous performance as the witches in Joel Coen's "The Tragedy of Macbeth"--who turns what could have been a cliched mother-in-law-from-hell role into something that's otherworldly sinister. When Hunter's Solange moves in with estranged stepson Norman (Andrew Burnap) and pregnant daughter in law Belinda (pop chanteuse Brandy Norwood), it's evident she has a hidden agenda. The Eggers neatly set up a mood of enveloping terror and dread as a battle of wills commences between Solange, Norman and an increasingly paranoid Belinda. Like some of their big brother's movies, the journey is more rewarding than the actual destination (or climax,) but it's a creepy good time nonetheless.
(B MINUS.)
IT ENDS WITH US--Blake Lively's touching, deeply felt performance is the main reason to see director Justin ("Five Feet Apart") Baldoni's uneven adaptation of Colleen Hoover's best-selling 2016 novel. As Lily, a young woman who flees a traumatic past to take up roots in Boston, Lively is so wonderfully empathetic she makes you want to overlook some of the film's egregious casting errors. Chief among them is Baldoni himself as the neurosurgeon Lily marries after a whirlwind romance, only to discover that he's as physically and emotionally abusive as her estranged father. (The fact that Baldoni's Ryle comes off as a creep from the get-go makes you question Lily's sanity.) And Brandon ("Yellowstone" prequel "1923") Sklenar is such a wet blanket as the old boyfriend who magically reappears in Lily's life that he never feels like a worthy alternative to her crumb bum husband. Although Lively keeps you emotionally invested in her character's plight for the duration of the movie's somewhat protracted 130 minute run time, only fans of Hoover's book are likely to have a transcendent cinematic experience. (C PLUS.)
MOTHER--When Albert Brooks' "Mother" opened on Christmas Day 1996, awards pundits all seemed to agree that it would be the movie that finally won Debbie Reynolds an Oscar. (Shockingly, she'd only been nominated once previously for 1964's "The Unsinkable Molly Brown") Apparently AMPAS disliked Debbie as much as they did Brooks since she wasn't even recognized for her career-defining performance. Brooks' sole nomination was for his supporting turn in James L. Brooks' "Broadcast News." (I still find it mind-blowing that he didn't even rate an original screenplay nod for 1985's "Lost in America," the best American comedy since "The Graduate.") The movie's set-up is deceptively simple. Twice-divorced fortysomething sci-fi author John Henderson (Brooks) moves back in with his Sausalito, California mom (Reynolds' Beatrice) hoping to cure his writer's block. The fact that Beatrice makes passive-aggressiveness an Olympic sport is immediately signaled when she introduces John to a neighbor as, "Oh, this is my son; the other one." (John's kid brother Jeff--Rob Morrow from "Quiz Show" and "Northern Exposure"--is the apple of Beatrice's eye despite being a preening narcissist.) Picking favorite funny moments is probably a Sisyphean task, but Beatrice's description of the ice crystallizing over her orange sherbet as a "protective layer" is something I've been quoting for nearly 30 years. Although Reynolds was actually Brooks' third choice to play Beatrice (both Doris Day and Nancy "Just Say No" Reagan turned him down), it proved to be remarkably fortuitous for all concerned. Not only did Reynolds' bravura performance help make "Mother" Brooks' top-grossing film, but Carrie Fisher, Reynolds' daughter, was instrumental in getting her ex, Paul Simon, to rewrite the lyrics to "Mrs. Robinson" for the movie's soundtrack ("Here's to you, Mrs. Henderson..."). Despite being the antithesis of "prolific" ("Mother" was only the fifth of seven movies Brooks wrote, directed and starred in over 45 years), I've been championing him as a national treasure since his short films which aired in the early days of Saturday Night Live. And while I'm delighted that the Criterion Collection is honoring him this month with dual releases of "Mother" and "Real Life," Brooks' 1979 feature debut, there are, sadly, precious few bonus features. Separate interviews with Brooks and Morrow, an affectionate essay by critic Carrie Rickey and the '96 teaser trailer directed by Brooks are the lone supplements. (A.)
QUERELLE--The remarkably prolific German New Wave wunderkind Rainer Werner Fassbinder died in June 1982 shortly after finishing "Querelle," and when it opened in theaters the following year reviews were generally dismissive. Even New York Times critic Vincent Canby who did more than anyone to "break" Fassbinder in America found the movie disappointing. Or maybe it was simply because the (largely) heterosexual bloc of American film critics at the time failed to appreciate Fassbinder's swan song for what it was: the most luxuriously stylized evocation of Gay Sensibility ever seen in a major movie. Along with Fellini's "Satyricon," it was (and remains) pretty much the gayest film ever made: a veritable Disneyland of queerness. Luxuriating in Fassbinder's deliberately artificial mise-en-scene is like taking a hit of amyl nitrate on the dance floor at Manhattan's fabled Crisco Disco in the pre-AIDS era. Although adapted from a novel by Jean Genet, the film seems even more beholden to the homoerotic artwork of Tom of Finland. As the titular sailor, Brad ("Midnight Express") Davis practically oozes sexuality, strutting his fine self into Feria, a Brest bar/brothel run by the imperious Madame Lysiane (Nouvelle Vague diva Jeanne Moreau). In short order, Querelle gets involved in an opium deal with Lysiane's husband (Gunther Kaufmann's Nono) that climaxes with the killing of his criminal cohort. Lusted after by everyone he crosses paths with, especially his superior officer, Lieutenant Seblon (Franco Nero), Querelle is a veritable walking and talking phallus. While the film ends tragically, it's also deeply, ironically funny. (Shades of Fassbinder creative muse Douglas Sirk's gloriously overheated 1950's Hollywood melodramas.) Would the New Queer Cinema that emerged a decade later have ever taken root without Fassbinder's posthumous masterpiece? Maybe, maybe not. Both Todd ("Poison") Haynes and Gregg ("The Living End") Araki have cited the film as a key influence on their early work. What can't be disputed is that Fassbinder--who died at age 37 after having directed over 40 films, 24 plays (most of which he wrote) and three television miniseries (including his magnum opus, 1980's "Berlin Alexanderplatz")--remains, along with Jean-Luc Godard, the most compelling, provocative and singular European filmmaking voice to emerge in the post-WW II era. Extras on the new Criterion Collection Blu-Ray include an interview with Museum of the Moving Image editorial director (and Queer Cinema scholar) Michael Koresky; Wolf German's 1982 documentary, "Rainer Werner Fassbinder: Last Works;" and a compelling, appreciative essay by critic Nathan Lee. (A.)
REAGAN-- Tacky production values worthy of 1980's network TV are the most authentic thing about this hacky, hagiographic biopic about one of the most divisive presidents in American history. With his Texan twang, Dennis Quaid--who looks nothing like The Gipper, by the way--is woefully miscast as the B-actor turned Right Wing poster boy. Equally absurd (and unintentionally risible) is the casting of Penelope Ann Miller, Lesley-Anne Down, Kevin Dillon and Mena Suvari as, respectively, Nancy Reagan, Margaret Thatcher, Jack Warner and Jane Wyman. Except for Never Trump Republicans, I can't imagine who the target audience is. For the record, director Sean McNamara has done better, less embarrassing movies, including 2018's "The Miracle Season" and 2015's "Spare Parts." (D.)
---Milan Paurich