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Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts

Mary Poppins Returns (2018) - Film Review

Mary Poppins Returns (2018)

Cast
  • Emily Blunt as Mary Poppins
  • Lin-Manuel Miranda as Jack
  • Ben Whishaw as Michael Banks
  • Emily Mortimer as Jane Banks
  • Pixie Davies as Anabel Banks
  • Nathanael Saleh as John Banks
  • Joel Dawson as Georgie Banks
  • Julie Walters as Ellen
  • Meryl Streep as Topsy
  • Colin Firth as William Weatherall Wilkins
  • Dick Van Dyke as Mr. Dawes Jr.
  • Angela Lansbury as Balloon Lady
Director
  • Rob Marshall
Writer (based upon the "Mary Poppins" stories by)
  • P.L. Travers
Writer (screen story by)
  • David Magee
  • Rob Marshall
  • John DeLuca
Cinematographer
  • Dion Beebe
Editor
  • Wyatt Smith
Composer
  • Marc Shaiman
Family, Fantasy, Music
Rated PG for some mild thematic elements and brief action.
131 minutes
 
 
I don’t envy the filmmaker remaking or creating a sequel to a beloved classic children’s story. Yet numerous directors and stars are lining up for this latest craze, and especially the people over at Disney. Starting with “Alice in Wonderland,” the studio has been raiding its vaults to tap into its audience’s entrenched nostalgia, offering familiar characters and storylines in a spate of live-action remakes (“Cinderella” and “Beauty and the Beast”), sequels (“Christopher Robin”) and spinoffs (“Maleficent”) that have been met with mixed reactions.
The latest movie to join the revisited ranks is Rob Marshall’s sequel to one of the most recognized musicals in the Disney canon, “Mary Poppins.” The bar for this project is pretty high, since Marshall has to both entice newcomers and win over ardent fans with a loyalty to the Sherman Brothers’ catchy songs, memorable performances from Julie Andrews and Dick Van Dyke and a heartwarming story of how one stern-faced nanny reunites a family. 

Unfortunately, “Mary Poppins Returns” falls quite short of being practically perfect in every way. The cast puts on a good show, but very little can be done to salvage the forgettable numbers by Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman and dance routines that already look dated. A handful of colorfully charming scenes liven up the movie’s dull events, but its copycat story arc isn’t strong enough to stand apart from the original. 

Back in the magical world of Mary Poppins’ England, things are bleak. A post-war fog has settled in 1930’s London, threatening the Banks’ family home unless they can find the MacGuffin—sorry, I meant proof that the dearly departed old man Banks left behind enough shares in company stock to cover the cost of the mortgage and save their house from foreclosure. The now grown Banks children Michael (Ben Whishaw) and Jane (Emily Mortimer) look through the attic, desks and shelves, digging up old childhood relics like their broken kite with their mother’s “Votes for Women” sash, but no form to save their home. Michael’s oily boss (Colin Firth) at his dad’s old bank extends the family’s deadline to come up with the receipt or they will finally lose the home. His three children—Anabel (Pixie Davies), John (Nathanael Saleh) and Georgie (Joel Dawson)—try to help or cheer up Michael since the family is still reeling from the death of their mother that year. Unfortunately, there’s only so much children can do in these grown-up matters.

Just as the Banks family is once again in chaos, who should arrive but the sharp and resourceful Mary Poppins (Emily Blunt)? She invites herself in, much like she does in the original, and brightens the children's day while also hiding their adventures from their beleaguered dad. Her Bert-like friend, Jack (Lin-Manuel Miranda), is part of an army of lamplighters called leeries who have seemingly taken the place of chimney sweepers in this economy. This time, the charismatic city worker doesn’t have a fondness for Mary (not in that way, it seems) but for the spirited activist in the family, Jane. Jack sometimes joins Mary and the three Banks children on a few tangential adventures before the family’s deadline for their home arrives and bad news is imminent.

The movie is a bit of a mixed bag from the get-go, with a wide-eyed Miranda singing a tune that’s not quite in his range and with an accent that doesn’t fully stick. However, he has enough energy to power through numbers that better suit his strengths. Blunt riffs on Mary Poppins by giving her some extra pep, a fresher wardrobe and an all-knowing sly smile that Michael and Jane always seem to miss. She’s delightful to watch, and her version of Poppins seems to take pleasure in throwing the children into magical situations.
Blunt and Miranda share the highlight of “Mary Poppins Returns,” a set of animated musical numbers with talking animals reminiscent of the “Jolly Holliday” sequence in the original, “The Royal Doulton Music Hall” and “A Cover is Not a Book.” Along with the three Banks children, the group travels into an animated world set on the side of a ceramic vase the kids accidentally chipped. Everyone’s costumes look more like drawings, and the movie takes on bright, bold colors missing from live-action London. The sequence feels at once singular yet clearly an homage to the original, and it’s enchanting to see it work—until it doesn’t. 

Sticking too close to the footsteps of the original has its own pitfalls, as evidenced by the “Trip a Little Light Fantastic” number. On their way home from a disappointing trip to the bank, Mary and the three children find themselves lost and in need of help from Jack and his streetlighting friends. They assemble for what’s supposed to be a rousing number in the spirit of “Step in Time” but ultimately falls flat. Marshall, who also co-choreographed routines with Joey Pizzi, John DeLuca, Tara Nicole Hughes and Marlon Pelayo, layers in too much for spectacle and ends up with a Baz Luhrmann-size hodgepodge of contemporary dance, parkour and BMX bike tricks that feels like it was choreographed in the last decade. The scene's steps reference everything from “An American in Paris” to “Silk Stockings” to the “Step Up” movies, but it is so messily shot that our characters get lost in the shuffle.

For someone who learned every word to "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" thanks to old Disney sing-a-long tapes, perhaps any return of Mary Poppins would never measure up to the original. If anything, watching “Mary Poppins Returns” works best if the 1964 movie is a distant memory or something you just never got around to. There’s almost a parallel equivalent in the new movie for everything in the original, which makes me wonder, why not just stick with the original? For instance, the original had a character called Uncle Albert (Ed Wynn) for a one-off number, “I Love to Laugh.” The new movie features a character named Cousin Topsy (Meryl Streep) for a lukewarm number among many props called “Turning Turtle.” Not quite the catchiest title, but then again, none of the songs take off on their own. Although “Mary Poppins Returns” plays with a fan’s nostalgia with a few Easter eggs and cameos from Van Dyke and Angela Lansbury, there’s a feeling that something is missing beyond an appearance from Andrews. “Returns” is neither really new or familiar, but an odd knockoff that will work for some audiences and leave others craving a rewatch of an old favorite.
 
 

The Grinch (2018) - Film Review

The Grinch (2018)


Cast

Benedict Cumberbatchas Grinch (voice)
Pharrell Williamsas Narrator (voice)
Cameron Seelyas Cindy Lou Who (voice)
Rashida Jonesas Donna Lou Who (voice)
Angela Lansburyas The Mayor of Whoville (voice)
Kenan Thompsonas Bricklebaum (voice)
Director

Scott Mosier
Yarrow Cheney
Writer (based on the book by)

Dr. Seuss
Writer

Cinco Paul
Ken Daurio
Editor

Chris Cartagena
Composer

Danny Elfman

Animation, Comedy, Family

Rated PG for brief rude humor.

90 minutes
 
 
Two of the most beloved Christmas stories are about characters who—at least at the beginning of the story—hate Christmas. Charles Dickens gave us Ebenezer Scrooge, who calls Christmas a fraud until the ghosts show him Christmas past, present, and future to show him what he has missed by hardening his heart to friends, family, and kindness. And Dr. Seuss (Theodore Geisel) gave us the Grinch, a furry green character with a dog named Max, who hates Christmas so much he decides to spoil the celebration of everyone in the community of Whoville by stealing all of their decorations, food, and gifts.

An instant classic since its publication in 1958, the book inspired an award-winning Chuck Jones animated television special starring Boris Karloff, then an overstuffed 2000 live-action feature film starring Jim Carrey in the title role, and now a very watch-worthy full-length animated theatrical release from the people behind “Despicable Me,” with Benedict Cumberbatch (using an American accent) as the Grinch. It does not surpass the Chuck Jones version (or having the book read aloud by a parent, which is still ideal) but it is far superior to the Carrey film and should become a welcome family tradition.

The visuals are delightfully Seussian, all curves and slants. I loved the mitten-shaped windows on one of the houses and the way that Whoville’s Christmas decorations make it look like a captivatingly intricate gingerbread village. In contrast, the Grinch’s mountain top lair is bare and cavernous, empty and solitary, far from the warmth of the Whovian homes.

We really do not need a backstory to tell us how the Grinch got so Grinch-y that he wants to steal all the decorations and gifts or why Cindy Lou Who (Cameron Seely) was awake on Christmas Eve. But feature-length movies are longer than Dr. Seuss poems, so we get a flashback to the young Grinch’s lonely holidays in an orphanage. In the book, two-year-old Cindy Lou gets up for a glass of water but here the elementary-school-age Cindy Lou wants to make sure she sees Santa on Christmas Eve because she wants to ask him for something very special. It is special because it is not for herself but for her loving yet exhausted mom (Rashida Jones). 

While this is not especially inventive, there are some clever parallels as the Grinch and Cindy Lou each have to come up with a plan for Christmas Eve. They write out their schemes with the same two words alone on a huge surface: “Santa Claus.” And both must assemble helpers and equipment without anyone finding out.

The smaller details are the most fun, especially when the Grinch brings on an enormous, yak-looking reindeer named Fred to pull his fake Santa sleigh. Or when a relentlessly cheery Whovian (Kenan Thompson) with the fanciest Christmas decorations in town keeps insisting that he and the Grinch are best friends.

We see the Grinch wake up in the morning for his breakfast, which includes a latte with a frowny face in the foam, prepared by his ever-loyal dog, Max. He then selects one from a rack of outfits labeled according to mood: “Wretched,” “Miserable,” “Very Miserable,” “Nasty,” and “Grumpy.” They are in fact all exactly alike and indistinguishable from his actual skin and fur. All the gadgets and equipment the Grinch creates are delightfully clever, the action scenes are energetic and funny, and the music, with a score by Danny Elfman and some standards and fresh and tuneful renditions of holiday classics, is superb, with a gorgeous Pentatonix rendition of “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” and Tyler the Creator’s brightly updated version of Thurl Ravenscroft’s classic “You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch.” The message that Christmas is not about presents and candy canes but about kindness and being together is always welcome. And when the Grinch gets invited to dinner with Cindy Lou’s family, you may find your heart growing a couple of sizes, too.


THE HOUSE WITH A CLOCK IN ITS WALLS (2018) - FILM REVIEW

The House with a Clock in Its Walls (2018)

PG | | Comedy, Family, Fantasy | 21 September 2018 (USA) 

 

Director:

Eli Roth

Writers:

Eric Kripke (screenplay by), John Bellairs (based on the novel by)

Stars:

Cate Blanchett, Jack Black, Lorenza Izzo
 
Rated PG for thematic elements including sorcery, some action, scary images, rude humor and language
 
104 mins
 
 

  Lewis Barnavelt, after losing his parents, is sent to Michigan to live with his uncle Jonathan. He discovers his uncle is a warlock, and enters a world of magic and sorcery. But this power is not limited to good people: Lewis learns of Isaac Izard, an evil wizard who wanted to cause the Apocalypse so that he could see what happened afterwards. To do this, he constructed a magical clock with black magic, as long as it exists it will keep ticking, counting down to doomsday. He died before he could finish the clock, but he hid the clock in his house, where Uncle Jonathan now lives. Now Lewis and Jonathan must find the clock before it's too late, and before Isaac's wife, Selena, gets to it.

Jack Black and Cate Blanchett star in Eli Roth’s first film for kids, based on the book by John Bellairs. 

Eli Roth shows himself unafraid of chronic neck pain with The House with a Clock in Its Walls, pivoting from March’s tepidly received Death Wish remake to an Amblin film about an orphan adopted by his warlock uncle and inducted into an exciting new world of magic. Jack Black and Cate Blanchett topline what’s clearly intended to be a franchise starter, with Daddy’s Home tyke Owen Vaccaro as Lewis Barnavelt, the star of a series that started with John Bellairs’ 1973 book, on which this handsome exercise in nostalgia is based.

A throwback to studio fare like Hocus Pocus or Casper, it’s anybody’s guess if Universal can entice parents to theaters when it opens Friday. But as a family film in that vein it largely succeeds, buoyed by Black’s typical exuberance, Blanchett’s typical slyness and a richly evocative rendering of a Rockwellian suburb sprinkled with goofer dust. Less interesting, as is the way with many audience-avatar YA protagonists (sorry, Harry), is the main character, and Vaccaro’s rather hyper-articulated performance doesn’t help.

Kitted out by Marlene Stewart in a tweed jacket, bowtie and aviator goggles, Lewis (Vaccaro) arrives in the fictional New Zebedee, Michigan, in 1955, to meet his uncle Jonathan (Black), who has assumed custody of the boy after the death of his parents in a car crash. Sporting a boxed beard and black kimono, Black leans into his regular persona, period be damned, begrudgingly telling a matronly neighbor (a memorable Colleen Camp) he’ll keep the noise down after midnight, even though “them’s me best jamming hours.” He’s a dream guardian, serving choc-chip cookies for dinner and insisting there’s no such thing as bedtime.  

Jonathan’s next-door neighbor and best friend, Florence Zimmerman (Blanchett), is introduced stepping out of a grandfather clock that seems to connect their two homes. The house itself could be a replica of Stephen King’s, and its velour interior, designed by Jon Hutman and dressed by Ellen Brill, reps the film’s most distinctive ingredient, a mahogany-gold wonderland of seemingly limitless dimensions. It’s also the source of nightly tick-tocking, though Florence can’t find anything in the crawlspace. Wearing a pencil skirt and grey bun — Jonathan describes her, affectionately, as looking like a Q-tip — Zimmerman is an emigree from Paris who came to America after the war, in which her husband and child were killed. Blink and you’ll miss the numerical tattoo on her arm, visible briefly in one scene.

That loss makes her protective of Lewis, a precocious lad who carries dictionaries in his suitcase and uses words like “pulchritudinous.” He’s naturally shunned at school. The only classmate to show him any kindness is Tarby (Mid90s star Sunny Suljic), a cool kid dressed like a greaser, who’s shocked to learn that Lewis lives in what the neighborhood kids refer to as “the slaughterhouse.” Convinced that his uncle intends to do him harm, Lewis attempts to flee, forcing Jonathan to reveal his true magical self — and the boy’s alarm quickly transforms into the excitement of a budding pupil. Cue a montage in which editor Fred Raskin fades from textbook-skimming in the library to the boy out in the garden, demonstrating his new-found knowledge in front of the house pet, a topiary griffin with unpredictable bowel movements.

That sequence is set to one of a handful of period tunes that complement Nathan Barr’s fluting score, and the filmmakers have fun indulging in the trappings of the era, from Jonathan’s rusted-out Morris Minor to the Captain Midnight serials that Lewis is obsessed with, one of which the director even cameos in. Desaturated flashback sequences reveal that the house (and the clock that turns out to be not exactly within its walls) is ground zero for a nefarious plot set in motion by its former owner: Jonathan’s old stage partner Isaac Izard (Kyle MacLachlan), whose wartime experience has left him with a seething hatred for human beings. Their reunion is shot like a silent movie, and Black amusingly — and unsurprisingly — nails the bigness of the gestures.

The period of Hollywood filmmaking that Roth is most keenly paying homage to here, though, is not the 20s or even the 50s but the 80s, as much about tipping the hat to Amblin classics like Back to the Future as it is a pro-forma paean to embracing one’s weirdness. And, especially, to the work of the man whose company logo is the first thing that appears onscreen. The House With a Clock in Its Walls is most of all a child’s-eye view of a fractured family and its eventual reconstitution, in which a Holocaust survivor thwarts a plan to exterminate not just a race but humanity itself. 

It’s also the closest we’ll likely get to seeing Blanchett as an action heroine outside the Marvel universe, pole-vaulting through a transom window and executing a perfect handstand escape from an attack of sharp-fanged jack-o-lanterns. The scenes she shares with Black — “I’d give you an ugly look but you’ve already got one,” she tells him — approximate a kind of screwball, but one that’s romance-free and largely frictionless (their single confrontation, in which Florence upbraids Jonathan for shirking his parental responsibilities, seems to have flown in from a different movie).

But it’s an enjoyably unlikely pairing nonetheless, and they get the best of Eric Kripke’s literate script, which fizzes with the sheer pleasure of the words themselves.


DUMBO Trailer (2019)

Dumbo (2019)



Plot unknown.

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Writer:

(screenplay)

Stars:


Holt was once a circus star, but he went off to war and when he returned it had terribly altered him. Circus owner Max Medici (Danny DeVito) hires him to take care of Dumbo, a newborn elephant whose oversized ears make him the laughing stock of the struggling circus troupe. But when Holt's children discover that Dumbo can fly, silver-tongued entrepreneur V.A. Vandevere (Michael Keaton), and aerial artist Colette Marchant (Eva Green) swoop in to make the little elephant a star.


AN INDIAN THAT GOES TO YOUR HEART - BEYOND THE CLOUDS (2018) - FILM REVIEW

obnoxious Indian-set drama. The film—the latest from Iranian co-writer/director Majid Majidi ("Baran," "Children of Heaven")—certainly looks good thanks to cinematographer Anil Mehta's typically gorgeous presentation of Mumbai's crowded streets and labyrinthine back alleys. But Mehta's visual compositions are dissatisfying after a point, mostly because the pseudo-mystical, live-and-let-live philosophy they espouse doesn't ring true when applied to a story about poor people struggling to transcend their treacherous living conditions. 

Beyond the Clouds (2017)

| Drama, Family | 20 April 2018 (India) 
 
 
Mehta ("Lagaan," "Veer-Zaara") can only do so much in a story that, like Majidi's most famous '90s films, feels simultaneously too spacey and too neat to say anything insightful about the plight of Amir (Ishan Khattar), a teenage drug dealer who must look after Ashik (Goutam Ghose)—the abusive and now hospitalized husband of Amir's self-less sister Tara (Malavika Mohanan)—long enough for Ashik to bail Tara out.
From the start, Tara's tragic circumstances are conflated with Amir's lack of responsibility. He must become human enough to not only accept responsibility for his actions, but also realize his responsibility to her. This is a major challenge since Amir often does whatever it takes to get ahead, including threatening Ashik's life, and offering to sell a child into prostitution. Amir is, in this way, unkindly treated like a product of his environment. Still, the film's dogmatic message is clear: there are moments of beauty in this teenager's life that are meant to prove that he is spiritually stronger than all of the seemingly unavoidable/unforeseeable material obstacles in his way. Even the mobbed-up gigolo/dealer that Amir works for, and the obstinate brother-in-law he wants to smash to bits ... all of these problems are supposedly surmountable.
This unbelievably optimistic mentality makes it hard to take seriously Majidi and co-writer Mehrad Kashani's rote scenario. Majidi and Kashani hold Amir's feet to the fire by asking him to not feel trapped by his complex living situation. He must forgive Ashik (notice that there's no discussion of the corrupt nature of the Indian court system). He must save his sister. He must find a way to support himself. He must be kind to Ashik's estranged mother and extended family. 
Meanwhile, Tara rots in jail. She's only believably human in the scene where she gets fed up with her Kafka-esque situation and screams that she needs to be let out immediately. She paces back and forth, like Jack Nicholson howling with rage in the much-missed Milos Forman's "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest." And she demands attention, but Amir can only do so much. He follows her movements from the other side of a see-through glass wall that separates prisoners like her from visitors like him. This is the most honest scene in "Beyond the Clouds," a rare moment of clarity where the filmmakers admit: there are limits to what we can do for our loved ones, no matter how much we owe them.
Unfortunately, Majidi and Kashani also often insist on piling the weight of Mumbai's collective troubles on Amir's shoulders. Never mind that the kid is only 19 years old, and doesn't have a parent or mentor-like figure that can help him figure out how to be his best self. What seems to matter most to Majidi and Kashani is that Amir has enough friends and resources to make bad decisions. So why shouldn't he be judged like an adult fictional character? In this unsparing context, it's hard to stomach scenes where Ghose seduces the camera with his genuinely seductive smile, and antic energy. He does a charming improvised dance for a former colleague—right before he stabs his friend in the hand. Amir even looks suave enough to convince his murderous, tight-wad gigolo boss to pay him on time.
But what's the point of "Beyond the Clouds"? Why tell your audience that it's more important to go beyond themselves than it is to be better as themselves? Majidi is clearly drawing on the artistic tradition of Italian neo-realist films like "Bicycle Thieves," "Umberto D," and "Rome, Open City," but shows no signs that he made it through to the end of the best of those movies. Spoiler alert: people remain homeless, hungry, and sad at the end of them! They don't get to transcend their circumstances because that, to put it mildly, would be a cop-out. 
I don't care how stunning the Mehta-lensed landscape shots of Mumbai are. The point of these scenes is to watch Ghose find his way through and into the story. But "Beyond the Clouds" isn't a city symphony: it's a conflicted tribute to a cruel, and bewitching slum. Majidi and Kashani's shared vision feels incomplete, as if they were moments away from realizing how to temper their story's condescending, but well-meaning perspective, but never got around to doing it.



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Release Date:

20 April 2018 (India)  »

Also Known As:

Floating Gardens  »

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Teenager Amir is constantly dodging trouble while dealing drugs in the underbelly of Mumbai. Following a drug bust, he evades the cops and ends up on the doorstep of his estranged sister Tara. Complications from concealing Amir land Tara in jail, but she still sees her brother as her only hope of living in the outside world again. While their lives have been darkened by despair, hope may shine from beyond the clouds.
 
Thanks for reading and have fun watching movies.

DISNEY'S FIRST FAIL OF THE YEAR - A WRINKLE IN TIME (2018) - FILM REVIEW

A Wrinkle in Time (2018)



After the disappearance of her scientist father, three peculiar beings send Meg, her brother, and her friend to space in order to find him.

Director:

Writers:

(screenplay by), (screenplay by) | 1 more credit »

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Following the discovery of a new form of space travel as well as Meg's father's disappearance, she, her brother, and her friend must join three magical beings - Mrs. Whatsit, Mrs. Who, and Mrs. Which - to travel across the universe to rescue him from a terrible evil.  


Official Sites:

Country:

Language:

Release Date:

9 March 2018 (USA)  »

Also Known As:

Un viaje en el tiempo  »

Filming Locations:

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Box Office

Budget:

$103,000,000 (estimated)

Company Credits

Production Co:


 Selma director stumbles with a messy adaptation of Madeleine L’Engle’s much-loved adventure starring Oprah Winfrey.

Quantum physics crumples in Ava DuVernay’s rainbow bright adaptation of Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time, allowing preteen science geek Meg (Storm Reid), her crush (Calvin) and her five-year-old genius brother Charles Wallace (Deric McCabe) to blerp from earth to the screensaver fantasy-lands at the end of the galaxy in search of her missing father (Chris Pine). Everything else is shiny and smooth, including the ancient faces of the three witch-angels who guide the kiddies’ adventure. Mrs Whatsit, the youngest of the trio at two-billion-years-plus, has gotten made-over since L’Engle catalogued her thin gray bun and “mouth puckered like an autumn apple”. Now she looks like Reese Witherspoon – wait, she is Reese Witherspoon – though it can he hard to tell under her hip-length red locks and pleated ballgown fashioned from pilfered sheets.
That Witherspoon looks like a toga party keg-stand champion befits DuVernay’s modern vision of a paperback classic bedazzled to within an inch of its life. (Maybe even closer to death than that – I wouldn’t want to be within a mile of Oprah Winfrey when she realizes her sequined eyebrows just look super silly.) The costumes are at once cluttered and vacuous. The design decree is: “More!” Mrs Whatsit, Winfrey’s Mrs Which and Mindy Kaling’s Mrs Who are plated in extravagant ruffles and braids, but their outfits are such a heedless hot-glue assault, they don’t say a thing about who these characters individually are. They are glitter dolls flung into a technicolor void.
Forget the tykes. Winfrey alights in Meg and Charles Wallace’s backyard as though astrologically assured that she’s the star of the film. Twice the size of everyone else and with her hair curled into an interplanetary fleur de lis, she looms and bobs and radiates love upon all the lesser beings onscreen and in seats. In one scene, a flying Charles Wallace stretches out a small hand to stroke Winfrey’s cheek. It feels like the most sincere shot in the movie.

DuVernay’s updated L’Engle is totally for kids. Good. It’s high time adults between 18 and seven billion loosen their death grip on action figures and hand children’s entertainment back to children. However, this Wrinkle in Time doesn’t seem made for the kind of actual, human children who dogeared the five-paperback series with playground-grimy nails muttering the words “tesseract” and “liverwurst” to themselves like mysterious incantations. The film is tentative and over-protective, as though it’s terrified that a story empowering kids to help good battle evil could give someone a nightmare. It reduces the whole universe to one girl’s self-esteem.
As a former girl myself, I remember carrying insecurities that felt bigger than all the planets combined. There’s truth in confronting the weak parts of yourself that kids early on learn to hide away, and a great shot of young Reid with her charming knock-kneed sprint racing to scream her own worth into the great unknown. L’Engle trusted that kids were even tougher than that. She wrote with brilliant dispassion. She wanted young readers to value individualism, but she wasn’t going to placate tykes into swallowing her ideas like a game of here-comes-the-airplane. Her themes weren’t coated in a spoonful of sugar – for chrissakes, she fed characters liverwurst. 

There’s no nose-wrinkling meat-pastes here. The film has the feel of an iPad video pawned off on a toddler so Dad can make comforting mac and cheese – here’s a bite-sized lesson about loving yourself and a jumble of pretty colors. Fair enough. A Wrinkle in Time would look better on a small screen. Most of the shots are close-ups of the characters’ faces framed so large you can’t see the terrible CG backdrops behind them, and edited together without intent. Jennifer Lee and Jeff Stockwell’s script is strung together word-clumps from characters standing around reciting stiff, informational speeches as though they beamed in from a video game cutscene. As they chant earnest thoughts about embracing your faults, the camera continually cuts from one warm smile to another like an anxious puppy desperate for reassurance. The entire film maintains that nervous pace. There’s no room to breathe or think or find your own way into an emotional moment. By the end, I was so smothered in comfort my teeth were grinding.

A Wrinkle in Time feels like a product molded by a megacorporation too tense to hand over the factory controls. You can only see DuVernay carving her initials into the corners of the film, adding deeper layers to Meg’s insecurity about her curly natural hair, trumpeting her delight in presenting a young, black, female heroine whose greatest strength is parabolas. What DuVernay lacks in a grand imagination of the universe – Wrinkle seems to be scotch-taped from scraps of Alice in Wonderland’s sentient flower-patch, including a costume change where Witherspoon transforms into a sexy leaf of kale, and the cruel planet Camazotz merely looks like a Target commercial in hell – she compensates for with her clear vision of our own planet. As in the books, Mrs Who prefers to speak only in famous quotations, but now her nods to the European canon of Euripides, Dante and Shakespeare has been enlivened with lines from Outkast and Lin-Manuel Miranda.
“Tomorrow there’ll be more of us,” chimps Kaling, mercifully cutting the Hamilton lyrics short before the moment gets more awkward. In a film flattened under the weight of too much more, the line at first sounds like a threat. But there should be more ambitious sci-fi for kids, with casts, creatives and crew members so diverse that eventually audiences won’t even think to comment on them. Hopefully, we’ll have more, and better, empowering blockbusters for kindergartners to paw on their flatscreens. DuVernay’s truest vision is that this world – not just our paths to faraway planets – has to bend.
  • A Wrinkle in Time is released in the US on 9 March and in the UK on 23 March

I was thinking about to give 1 star only, but especially the music, which is super epic and most of the time to much overloaded is something what I really like, so I give A Wrinkle In Time 2 Stars but again the story is anything else but good or more worth than 1 star.


Thanks for reading and have fun watching movies.

THE BREADWINNER (2017) [ANIME] - REVIEW

The Breadwinner (2017)


A headstrong young girl in Afghanistan disguises herself as a boy in order to provide for her family.

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17 November 2017 (USA)  »

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Based on a children's novel by Deborah Ellis and executive produced by Angelina Jolie, Nora Twomey's animated feature centers on a young Afghan girl's resilience in the face of devastating circumstances. 

Movies are filled with scrappy kids who weather tough situations, but Parvana, the 11-year-old Kabul resident at the center of The Breadwinner, is a particularly memorable survivor. In a story that's as vibrant as it is harrowing, the Afghan girl steps into the vacuum left by her father's arrest and, disguising herself as a boy, ventures into the Taliban-controlled city in order to keep her family fed.
In her first solo stint at the helm of a feature, Nora Twomey, who co-directed the dazzling Secret of Kells, sugarcoats nothing about Parvana's story, even while layering it with a touch of enchantment. She and screenwriter Anita Doron, adapting Deborah Ellis' book, maintain the child's point of view in both strands of the narrative: the brutal day-to-day challenges that Parvana faces and the magic-tinged fable she spins to soothe and entertain her baby brother.

The involvement of Angelina Jolie will certainly boost the profile of the Ireland-Canada-Luxembourg co-production, which joins the ranks of such hard-hitting animated features as Waltz With Bashir and Persepolis in its artful alchemy of personal particulars through the prism of political conflict.

Novelist Ellis based her Breadwinner series of books on interviews she conducted with residents of an Afghan refugee camp in Pakistan, and the filmmakers have taken similar care to ensure the cultural accuracy of their adaptation, from the realistic backdrops to the use of Afghan musicians and singers (recorded remotely) in the affecting score by siblings Mychael and Jeff Danna.

The action unfolds in 2001, when Parvana (voiced with spirit and intelligence by Saara Chaudry) regularly accompanies her father, Nurullah (Ali Badshah), on his trips to the central market, where he hawks miscellaneous items along with his letter-writing and -reading skills. A former schoolteacher, he instills a sense of history in his young daughter — specifically, the history of their country as the site of countless incursions and occupations over the centuries. Parvana sighs in boredom over the litany of invaders: Alexander the Great, Genghis Khan and, in more recent years, the Soviets. But Afghan political history takes on a terrible urgency for her when the city's self-appointed moral guardians, the Taliban, cart the worldly Nurullah to prison for questioning their restrictive edicts.

The apartment that Parvana shares with her broken-hearted mother, Fattema (Laara Sadiq); argumentative older sister, Soraya (Shaista Latif); and toddler brother, Zaki, becomes a kind of prison, too. Under Taliban rule, women and girls can be out and about only in the company of a male, and shopkeepers fearful of retribution won't sell Parvana rice or any other household staples.

But once she cuts her hair short and dons the clothes of her deceased older brother Sulayman (Noorin Gulamgaus) — whose story is gradually revealed with minimal detail and maximum impact — Parvana navigates the streets and markets with relative freedom. She finds a kindred spirit and entrepreneurial partner in Shauzia (Soma Chhaya), another girl passing as a boy. Together they sell tea and take on odd jobs. Plotting her escape to the peaceful seaside, Shauzia alludes to a troubled home life, and, as in their treatment of Sulayman, the screenplay and direction convey volumes in just a few words and gestures.
Amid all the sorrow and struggle, there are moments of welcome humor, too, particularly in the tale that Parvana, carrying on her absent father's love of storytelling, tells Zaki. To set the story-within-the-story apart from the main narrative's simple line-drawn characters and naturalistic background renderings, Twomey adopts a stylized cutout animation style. The tale of a child's courage against a villainous Elephant King abounds in deep jewel tones and is punctuated with circular and other symmetrical arrangements.

That the allegory's protagonist is a boy ties him to the daring of Parvana and Shauzia as well as to the late Sulayman and the tot Zika, a sweetly gurgling embodiment of joy and innocence. An expression of strength and creativity in a world of constant danger, the story Parvana weaves gives shape to hope while acknowledging seemingly insurmountable difficulties.

Through it all, Parvana never gives up on trying to see her imprisoned father, if only to pass along the walking stick he's needed since losing a leg in wartime. One of his illiterate customers, Razaq (Kawa Ada), proves sympathetic and helpful, and the wordless moments he shares with Parvana, as his own devastating losses come to light, are among the most poignant in the film.

The threat of war and its bitter memories are everywhere; not long after Parvana crosses a desert littered with abandoned military tanks, the skies are darkened by new machines of destruction. Not unlike her gutsy protagonist, Twomey moves through the charged landscape with extraordinary agility. Combining gripping suspense with a quote from the immortal Persian poet Rumi, she creates a stirring final sequence from the rising chords of terror and resilience. Nothing is resolved, exactly, but for a breathtaking instant, love resounds more powerfully than any bomb ever could.

FINAL RATING: 8/10 for the genre and 7/10 overall. Nice and cute anime which shows what it means if you have nothing and how to survive every day with little things. Different and great at the same time because the movie shows what it really means to sell your body.


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MOVIETOWN REVIEW MARATHON - 5 MOVIES IN 5 HOURS - GOODBYE CHRISTOPHER ROBIN (2017) - REVIEW + HD TRAILER

Goodbye Christopher Robin (2017)



A behind-the-scenes look at the life of author A.A. Milne and the creation of the Winnie the Pooh stories inspired by his son C.R. Milne.

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A rare glimpse into the relationship between beloved children's author A. A. Milne (Domhnall Gleeson) and his son Christopher Robin, whose toys inspired the magical world of Winnie the Pooh. Along with his mother Daphne (Margot Robbie), and his nanny Olive, Christopher Robin and his family are swept up in the international success of the books; the enchanting tales bringing hope and comfort to England after the First World War. But with the eyes of the world on Christopher Robin, what will the cost be to the family?  


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29 September 2017 (UK)  »

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Addio Christopher Robin  »

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Did You Know?

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Domhnall Gleeson and Kelly Macdonald's third film together. They previously appeared in Anna Karenina (2012) and Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2 (2011).
 

Starring alongside Margot Robbie and Kelly Macdonald, Domhnall Gleeson plays Winnie-the-Pooh creator A.A. Milne in a drama that focuses on the British author’s relationship with his son.

For C. R. Milne, the real-life boy behind a beloved kids' book character, the popularity of his father's stories was a curse. Screenwriters Frank Cottrell-Boyce and Simon Vaughan draw upon his memoirs for Goodbye Christopher Robin, and though director Simon Curtis applies a heavy hand, he mostly avoids preciousness in the child's-eye perspective, if not the reverse-engineered quality that infects many biopics. It's the chemistry between Domhnall Gleeson and newcomer Will Tilston, as the awkwardly matched father and son, that makes the movie more than a melange of inept parenting and Tigger, too. 

It's also a story of the trauma of combat. Domhnall's celebrated playwright A. A. Milne is a shell-shocked veteran of World War I's trenches. Back in London society, his fervent antiwar pronouncements make him a buzzkill at soirees. When a popped champagne cork or opening-night spotlight triggers flashbacks, he does his best to maintain a stiff upper lip. But the illustrator E. H. Shepard (well played by Stephen Campbell Moore), a fellow vet and Punch contributor who would become Milne's collaborator on the Winnie-the-Pooh books, notices his friend's jangled nerves and quietly does what he can to calm him. 

Not so Milne's wife, Daphne (Margot Robbie), who insists that "if you don't think about dreadful things, they cease to exist." As the movie's villain of sorts, the excellent Robbie is cheerfully tactless, a party girl who's married as much to Milne's ambition and stature as she is to the man. Her stylish dresses, designed by Odile Dicks-Mireaux, reflect not just the creme de la creme of 1920s chic but Daphne's need to be part of it. Although bored by her husband's determination to take a break from West End comedies and do something serious, she nonetheless agrees to move to the country with him and their son (Tilston), officially named Christopher Robin but known by his nickname, Billy Moon. Daphne sticks it out in England's southeast until she can no longer abide Milne's lack of productivity or resist the siren call of the capital. 

By then the boy's nanny, Olive, aka Nou and played with welcome grit and warmth by Kelly Macdonald, has already established herself as the only grounded, emotionally equipped adult in his life. (Her primacy is underscored in the way her Scottish vowels can be heard in Alex Lawther's portrayal of the young adult Billy.) 

When the flummoxed Milne is left on his own with Billy, the heart of the film unwinds over a quarter-hour of bonding that’s both charged and charmed; the first breakfast between father and son unfolds as a priceless bit of negotiation. They become storytelling partners and, with help from the artist Shepard, build an imagined world around the boy’s teddy bear and his other stuffed animals — namely, Piglet, Eeyore, Tigger, Kango and Roo. Working in some of the actual East Sussex locations where the Milnes found inspiration, Curtis and cinematographer Ben Smithard punctuate the story with such effective touches of magic realism as an imaginary snowfall and storybook beams of light through the trees of Ashdown Forest. 

But it's their attention to the ways that the dimply Billy is as watchful and wary as he is hungry for paternal affection that makes the father-son exchanges compelling. Though he's not immune to outbursts of childish jealousy when Nou finds a suitor (Shaun Dingwall), Billy is an old soul with a knack for empathy, skillfully talking his war-damaged father out of his occasional panic attacks. 

Despite distracting aging makeup and overemphatic directing choices, Ex Machina star Gleeson convincingly embodies someone who can express himself on the page but is not always at home in his skin. From his self-reproachful clumsiness at a formal dance — and a rare redemptive moment for Daphne — to the trepidatious way he carries his infant son, Gleeson's Milne finally becomes a kind of director, guiding Shepard in visual cues for their joint venture as they turn backyard stories into a publishing sensation. 
How something so intimate became something that belonged to the world, and how Billy became called upon to play a role he despised — "the real Christopher Robin" — is the subject of the movie's pointedly oversimplified second half. Macdonald's fierce and wise nanny does what she can to protect Billy from prying reporters, but soon he's a celebrity with a full appointment schedule. And while the fan letters by the bushel thrill the perhaps scapegoated Daphne, the film treats Milne as an ambivalent, borderline-clueless participant in this new level of fame, a man who comes to feel almost as entrapped by the success of his children's books as does his son. 

In a striking convergence with mother!, a movie that features Gleeson but which could not otherwise be more different from Curtis' family-friendly outing, Goodbye Christopher Robin gazes in horror at artistic achievement as a bedeviling plague of hungry, albeit enriching, fans. Turning the utterly accessible, mainstream-oriented books into a thriving enterprise, those fans clamor insensitively and say all the wrong things, gauche monsters that they are.

Curtis, whose feature credits include the lamentable Woman in Gold and the considerably more involving My Week With Marilyn, tends to bring the story's every undercurrent to the surface. So does the screenplay, beginning with the movie's opening salvo, which needlessly resorts to the default tactic of starting at a crucial point late in the story and then flashing backward to tell the tale. But whether the onscreen action is obvious or subtle, Carter Burwell's elegant score is understatement personified. 

It complements the point of view that defines the film — that of Billy Moon. Like many astute kids, he sees his parents' vulnerabilities and understands more than he can articulate. It takes years of suffering before Lawther's older, deeply disgruntled version of the character gets to unburden himself. His vehemence is jarring but understandable; where the movie truly stumbles is in its cozily cathartic wrap-up, sorting out unresolved guilt and blame in such picture-perfect fashion that Christopher Robin Milne and his famous father would likely cringe.

Final rating: 6/10 for the genre and 5/10 overall - what a sad results since there was and still is a lot of potential for a better story and acting of the characters.

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MOVIETOWN TRAILER DAY - SPECIAL EVENT - A WRINKLE IN TIME (2018) - HD TEASER

A Wrinkle in Time (2018)



After the disappearance of her scientist father, three peculiar beings send Meg, her brother, and her friend to space in order to find him.

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(screenplay), (based on the novel by)

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Following the discovery of a new form of space travel as well as Meg's father's disappearance, she, her brother, and her friend must join three magical beings - Mrs. Whatsit, Mrs. Who, and Mrs. Which - to travel across the universe to rescue him from a terrible evil.  

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9 March 2018 (USA)  »

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Ett veck i tiden  »

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$103.000.000 (estimated)
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2.35 : 1

Did You Know?

Trivia

The cover of Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) played in the first promotional trailer is performed by Keeley Bumford.

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