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Night School (2018) - Film Review

Night School (2018)

 
 
"Night School" is the barest wisp of a movie—a light, earnest, goofy comedy about a high school dropout (Kevin Hart) belatedly trying to earn a General Equivalency Diploma, in a night school classroom run by one of those super-tough but inspirational teachers (Tiffany Haddish) that movies can't get enough of. Nothing about it makes a lot of sense, but then, nothing about classic old comedies starring people like W.C. Fields or Laurel and Hardy made much sense, because they about oddballs getting into trouble and then trying to get out of it.

All you really need to know about this movie is that it stars Hart, who's developed into modern American cinema's go-to Everyman clown; that Haddish is underused but still hilarious; that the supporting cast is filled with memorable eccentrics (including Keith David and Loretta Devine as the hero's parents), and that it's directed by Malcolm Lee ("The Best Man" series, "Girls Trip"), a maestro of shenanigans. I have no idea how it'll play on a small screen, but on a big screen with an audience, it's a kick. Lee, his cast, and Lee's go-to editor Paul Millspaugh usually manage to find at least one laugh and two smaller ones even in scenes that feel slapped-together. (The credits list six screenwriters, including Lee and Hart.)

"Night School" is a feature that has enough plot to fill a short film—except for the setup, which is needlessly elaborate. Hart's character Teddy Walker wants a GED so he can get a job as a salesman at a firm run by an old friend, in order to replace the job he lost at a barbecue grill store after he accidentally destroyed it; this is all in service of maintaining Teddy's spendthrift lifestyle, which is calculated to make his girlfriend Lisa (Megalyn Echikunwoke) think he's rolling in money even though he's perpetually one paycheck away from the poorhouse. There's a much simpler and more relatable story underneath all that: Teddy was a weak student who was called dumb all his life. If he can finally earn that diploma he gave up when he quit high school, he'll conquer the demons of his past.

This isn't a "Saturday Night Live" movie, but it has that "SNL" problem of wanting to be heartwarming and raucous at the same time, and not always succeeding at either ambition. Teddy takes GED classes at the same high school he dropped out of decades earlier. The principal is his old nemesis Stewart ("SNL" cast member Taran Killam). Stewart used to torment Teddy until Teddy publicly embarrassed him. Now that he's running the place, he's determined to make Teddy's experience as unpleasant as possible. He likes to speak in African-American vernacular and swing a bat around menacingly, like Morgan Freeman's principal character in "Lean on Me." Teddy's teacher Carrie (Haddish) is a multitasking, super-competent badass who hollers like a drill sergeant and sometimes takes the students to a mixed martial arts gym, puts them in a cage, feeds them questions about English, math, history and science, and pounds them if they don't answer correctly and quickly. (Professor Keating, she ain't.) 

The classroom is a demographically diverse gang of lovable weirdos, all of whom have troubles of their own. Mackenzie (Rob Riggle) is a dropout who's been destroying his back working as a mover all his life, and wants a GED so he can get off the truck and move behind a desk. Teresa (Mary Lynn Rajskub) dropped out because she got pregnant by a domineering jerk that she's still married to. Luis (Al Madrigal) is a Latinx waiter Kevin contrived to have fired in a scene too complicated to go into here; he speaks mangled English and fantasizes of becoming the next Justin Bieber. Jaylen (Romany Malco) is a paranoid conspiracy theorist who's convinced that machines have taken over. Sometimes he stares into the distance and you just know he's imagining the opening of "The Terminator." A felon named Bobby (Fat Joe) is attending night school via Skype. He takes his lessons so seriously that when he's interrupted by an attempted shanking, he roars "I'm trying to learn!" as he thrashes his attackers. And so on. They all have big (or small) dreams, like Teddy. But because night school is just too demanding, they start dreaming up shortcuts to graduation. And that's where the trouble starts.

Hart holds the whole thing together—he has a classic deadpan face, and is even funnier reacting silently than when he's rolling around on the floor and shrieking his head off—and the comic spark between Teddy, Carrie, Stewart, and all of the other characters is undeniable. Every actor one or two little arias of verbal tomfoolery or wild slapstick. Best in show goes to the sequence where the gang tries to sneak into the school after hours; the crew lets Bobby participate via iPhone, and the climax is a pratfall that would've killed all three of the Stooges. But the most distinctive moments are built around wordplay—a character hearing the word Roomba and mentioning that his wife takes rhumba classes, for instance, or another character being informed that he has "a processing disorder" and screaming, "prostate cancer???"

Admittedly there are probably only a handful of people who find this kind of material funny (reviewer sheepishly raises hand). But it's to the credit of Lee and his collaborators that "Night School" pitches a comedic tent big enough to contain something silly for everyone. Thinking back on the movie, I'm torn between wanting it to be more than it is, and being impressed that something so loosely assembled didn't instantly fall apart. It's overlong and shaggy, and alternately too thin and too dense, and it keeps veering into sentiment that it doesn't entirely earn. But in the end, you still feel for the characters, because the actors are so appealing, and because the movie understands that even though most films rarely utter the initials GED, in the world beyond the screen, it's a goal worth sacrificing for. 


Operations Finale (2018) - Film Review

Operation Finale (2018)


 
Fifteen years after the end of World War II, Israel’s intelligence agency Mossad and security agency Shin Bet — led by the tireless and heroic agent Peter Malkin (Isaac) — launched a daring top-secret raid to capture the notorious Eichmann (Kingsley), who had been reported dead in the chaos following Nazi Germany’s collapse but was, in fact, living and working in a suburb of Buenos Aires, Argentina under an assumed identity along with his wife and two sons. Monitoring his daily routine, Malkin and his operatives plot and execute the abduction under the cover of darkness just a few feet from Eichmann’s home. Determined to sneak him out of Argentina to stand trial in Israel, Malkin and Eichmann engage in an intense and gripping game of cat-and-mouse.

On the surface, Operation Finale is the type of mid-range adult drama everyone saying we’re not getting enough of these days- a movie that largely understands it’s not going to play when Oscar season comes but is committed to bringing its best to the table.
The film boasts slick direction from Chris Weitz, who does a yeoman’s job more often than not even though he doesn’t get mentioned alongside big-name directors very often.

However, Operation Finale is really a two-hander between its double above the title leads.  The thrill in this thriller doesn’t come from the capture or the other less than accurate embellishments that the film turns to late to jog the adrenaline, but rather these two sitting in a bare room and attempting to gain a mental edge on the other with the highest personal stakes imaginable in a contest that will ultimately do much to define the history of their respective peoples.  It’s worth the price of admission.

The film tries very hard but ultimately fails at getting inside the head of Eichmann, offering up two different narrative flourishes in an attempt to do so that don’t make a ton of sense in context.  The way the Nazi-hunters (fairly quickly) get him to drop his cover story and admit he’s Eichmann hinges on deliberately misstating his SS ID number continuously until he pridefully or anal-retentively corrects them.
More curiously, the setup for those Isaac/Kingsley 1:1s is an apparently fictional need to get Eichmann to sign a letter stating he’s voluntarily going to Israel to stand trial.  While it proves to be the key attraction of the movie, its denouement still doesn’t quite seem like something a canny bastard like Eichmann would have done.

The supporting cast gets pretty short shrift overall, with talented performers like Melanie Laurent not given much to do.  Weitz and screenwriter Matthew Orton also jazzed up history a bit to make things more exciting in other fairly obvious ways besides the aforementioned letter, particularly the climactic airport shenanigans that are actually rooted in truth but which are strangely made less believable by how they choose to present the cause of the delay.  Of course, Argo was my favorite movie of its year, so…

Operation Finale is a competently delivered historical drama that really comes to life when Oscar Isaac and Ben Kingsley go head to head with the mind games.







Johnny English Strikes Again (2018) - Film Review

Johnny English Strikes Again (2018)



Who knew that we’d see Rowan Atkinson return to the world of secret spies in Johnny English Strikes Again? The 2011 sequel Johnny English Reborn was already an unexpected follow-up. I asked myself if anyone asked for this, but the question I should be asking is another one entirely: will anyone care? From the looks of it, the film will drive enough interest as it hits on all the marks to appease to its target demographic.
  
Quick! A hacker attack exposed every MI6 agent to the world! What do you do? You call in a retired agent, that’s what. Some would say he’s the best, others will urge that he’s the worst, but nevertheless, it’s up to Johnny English to uncover who the evil-doer is before he or she endangers England and possibly the rest of the world. All lives depend on this guy.

I was looking forward going into this film. I’ve only seen the first 5 minutes of the second movie. Despite my meager history with the franchise, I craved a satisfying comedy that got out a few chuckles.
The series lies in a weird spot. Each film came out at least 6 years apart from its predecessor with a different director of an unimpressive filmography at the helm. This time around that mantle went to David Kerr. Yup, I haven’t heard of him either. His area of expertise lies in TV with this movie being his cinematic debut. It’s not an impressive choice, but with a franchise like this one, the shoes aren’t too big to fill-in.

I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I laughed more than expected. This movie can be funny especially if you’re a fan of British comedy. Some may find it too predictable or simple, but in this case, Strikes Again creates the opportunity to add finishing touches in a form of clever twists or subtle jabs.

Sadly, this isn’t always the case. Some jokes don’t take these extra steps and run on for far too long. Two long sequences in particular fall on their faces despite their good intentions. It wastes the concept’s opportunity and settles for predictability. These inconveniences would be deal breakers, if not for the tone.
By the end of the day, a gag is a gag. It’s either cheaply hilarious or cheaply unimpressive. In this case, the final act predominantly goes with the latter while the first two with the former.

The film opens fast. It gets to the point and takes you on a fun ride. You appreciate the things it throws your way. It makes the most out of the light and silly tone. That’s it!
Johnny English is the comedic take on the James Bond franchise and it does so with its own flavor. For example, it takes the time to comment and at times make fun of today’s day and age. Johnny English is a man of his own mold. He does things the old-fashioned way, free of any safety nets, obligatory procedures or fresh tech. Things like this allow it to distance itself from a blatant parody.
Instead of effortlessly making fun of popular genre attributes, it takes its spy story elements and weaves them into the narrative as if they were their own. Even if some jokes aren’t original, the movie persists on staying away from bromidic references.

For some reason, the final act double downs on the bad gags that were once excusable. The characters that added something to the story are now useless. Their purpose is to deliver solutions in style of ex machina. In the end, Johnny English is the only character who ends up mattering at the expense of others.
The ending doesn’t give us proper closure. It’s just…there. The director’s resume shows its unimpressive teeth in this instance. The film only lasts 89 minutes. I’m sure it wouldn’t have killed anyone if they added a minute or three to fix these issues.

Johnny English: Strikes Again perfectly deserves a viewing when it happens to air on TV some day in the future — ironic isn’t it? It’s not an insult, rather a recommendation. The movie provides a good amount of laughs that will brighten up your day even if it’s through at least one joke. All of its faults ultimately don’t dwindle your fun to the point where you will hate this movie outright.
The movie is another relish of the week. Easily entertaining, yet if you’ve seen Atkinson play his typical caricature, you won’t find innovation. Unless the mandate is to relieve yourself of any stress, there is no need to rush out to your local theater.





Assassonation Nation (2018) - Film Review

Assassination Nation (2018)

 


Every so often, a movie comes around that is bound to stir up conversation due to its subject matter and tone. Assassination Nation is that movie in the present, and I can guarantee one thing: it’s going to polarize many individuals. Some are going to leave the theater appalled at what they just witness, others will sing this movie’s praises to the high heavens for a very long time. As for me, I’m somewhere in the middle, but there’s no questioning that this is a product that simply can’t be ignored.

Lily (Young) and her friends are going through high school, dealing with all the troubles that most people who go to school in the modern age handle: selfies, nudes, guys, you name it. But the entire town of Salem is turned upside down when an anonymous hacker leaks everyone’s information out into the public. An outcry ensues, one that leads to excessive violence and bloodshed.
Eventually, the collective anger of the town turns towards Lily and her friends, and they’ll be lucky if they survive the night.

Assassination Nation director Sam Levinson is following in the footsteps of his father, Barry, as he continues his career in the industry. This particular film marks Sam’s second outing as a director and it’s certainly his most high-profile project to date.
Directing runs in the family on occasion. The 47 Coppolas that direct help cement that idea. Weirdly enough, I often feel that we as a movie-loving mass don’t make a big enough deal about movie families. Maybe it’s each person’s quest for originality in the industry, but if you ask me, it’s pretty cool to see so many relatives succeeding together. Who knows, maybe there will a top 10 list of the best movie families on the site soon. I have that kind of power here at MovieBabble, you know.

Hot take alert: Assassination Nation is the best shot movie of 2018 so far. The film isn’t what you’d call “beautiful” — it actually bucks against that idea in order to make everything appear scuzzy — but in terms of how Sam Levinson uses the camera, this is one mesmerizing motion picture.
There’s a wonderful sense of style to Assassination Nation, one that feels as new-age as the subject matter surrounding the characters with techniques such as three-way split screens and stylized social media notifications that somehow manage to add a rather insidious feel. After awhile, the use of an iPhone ping both diegetcally and non-dietetically becomes one of the more unsettling noises in the entire movie.
As you watch Assassination Nation, it’s abundantly obvious that this movie was filmed with a crystal clear vision in mind, both within the brazen nature of the film itself and with how it is filmed. Levinson utilizes some of the most glorious one-shot sequences you’ll see all of this year as the thriller aspects of Assassination Nation begin to take root. One in particular made my mouth drop to the floor with its brilliance. It’s one of those sequences where you think to yourself, “this can’t possibly be one continuous take,” so you begin to focus on every tiny detail to see if the director is cheating with faux cuts. But, because Levinson has such a strong hold on this movie, you’ll never find those mistakes, that is if they even exist.

I really can’t stress enough how perfectly executed this movie is from a technical perspective; it’s an amazing experience. And that’s why it frustrates me that Assassination Nation didn’t create better characters to go along with its technical skill.
As you quickly find out through a few moderately humorous, stylized beats, much of Assassination Nation is quite heightened. Actually, all of it is heightened, but you get the idea. You’ll know instantly that you have a dark satire on your hands. By extension, a lot of the characters have their quirks that come to define who they are, but the film never really goes deeper than that. Once could say that the film spends a lot of time with the Lily character, but even she doesn’t have much going on; she’s a chess piece for this movie to move around as insanity ensues.
Assassination Nation is all about the plight of the modern woman. That’s a pretty great idea for a stylized thriller if you ask me — society is scary sometimes! However, that entire thread is undercut due to these paper-thin characters. How exactly am I suppose to care about these women if they’ve all been reduced rather annoying, recycled tropes?

Remember mother!? You know, everyone’s favorite movie from 2017?

For better or worse, Assassination Nation almost immediately reminded me of Darren Aronofsky’s experiment that made so many angry last year. Assassination Nation is actively trying to shock and appall you at every turn as it preaches its themes. It’s such a visceral experience that many will simply reject it out of principle.

Now, Assassination Nation is not a clear product of a director that’s high off his own skill, nor is it a blending of religious and natural allegory. But like mother!, its themes are painfully obvious, leaving no room for interpretation. Mr. Levinson, we get what you’re doing here; there’s no need to name the town “Salem.” The two films also do not have many identifiable characters in which the thematic power of the movie can take root.

But the most striking similarity between the two films is that they contain conflicting messages. For mother!, it was mixing Jennifer Lawrence’s character between being an allegory for Mother Nature and also the Virgin Mary, creating an instance where the two sides of the coin essentially cancel each other out in how they are presented. For Assassination Nation, the idea of mixing a darkly satirical look at the plight of women conflicts with a sudden shift towards an earnest plea to the audience. The film also goes out of its way to shoot these females in a titillating fashion while also showing them all in a less than flattering light. Everyone’s fake, until they aren’t. What exactly am I supposed to feel here? Assassination Nation just can’t make up its mind, and it left me feeling cold.

Powerful yet undeniably sloppy, Assassination Nation is one of the better technical achievements you’ll see this year — if only its subtext was just as strong! Sam Levinson puts together some absolutely incredible sequences that will send shivers down your spine with every waking second. His command for staging and executing this film on a visual level is nothing short of miraculous. You should see Assassination Nation for these reasons alone…if you can stomach it, that is.
And yet, I’m torn, and it’s so unfortunate that I can’t bring myself to like this movie more. With such paper-thin characters and muddy thematic heft, I find Assassination Nation tough to admire for anything more than a directing showcase. I’m hoping that Sam Levinson continues to flex his directing muscles, because if he works with the right material next time around, we could have an instant classic on our hands.





 

A Star Is Born (2018) - Film Review

A Star Is Born (2018)

Director:




Writers:
Eric Roth (screenplay by), Bradley Cooper (screenplay by) | 3 more credits »


Stars:
Lady Gaga, Bradley Cooper, Sam Elliott


It’s the romantic epic of male sacrificial woundedness and it’s been regenerating like Doctor Who. We had it in 1976 with Barbra Streisand and Kris Kristofferson, in 1954 with Judy Garland and James Mason and originally way back in 1937 with Janet Gaynor and Fredric March. It’s even been regenerating obliquely in movies such as The Artist and La La Land. Now Bradley Cooper plays the boozy and downwardly mobile alpha-star laying his pride on the showbiz altar of the woman he loves. Cooper directs and co-stars in this outrageously watchable and colossally enjoyable new version, supercharged with dilithium crystals of pure melodrama. He appears opposite a sensationally good Lady Gaga, whose ability to be part ordinary person, part extraterrestrial celebrity empress functions at the highest level at all times.

Cooper and veteran screenwriter Eric Roth are clearly inspired most directly by the Streisand/Kristofferson film. But in those closeups that Cooper awards himself, and his huge moments of emotional agony … well, he’s channelling a bit of Judy. He certainly de-machos the role, and creates a backstory of vulnerability. Yet the crunch question is: how are Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper going to reinvent that terrifying award-ceremony scene, when he embarrasses her publicly? Well, the climax of their ordeal is bigger than I ever thought possible. It’s the final station of the cross.

Cooper takes his voice down a couple of octaves to play Jackson Maine, a gravel-toned MOR country-rocker doing stadium tours and keeping it together with huge amounts of booze and pills. He’s still a big success, but personally and emotionally he’s running on empty. (Cooper actually co-writes a few of his songs here, and his band is played by Neil Young’s longtime backing group: Lukas Nelson & Promise of the Real.) He’s also suffering from encroaching deafness and tinnitus, which periodically bring him close to anxiety attacks and temper tantrums. He has to be shepherded by his manager and older brother, Bobby, played by Sam Elliott, for whom he has longstanding feelings of resentment, rivalry and guilt.

Out of booze after a show one night, Jackson has his driver pull over when he spots what turns out to be a drag bar, where the boss lets a woman sing in non-drag: this is the extraordinarily talented Ally (Lady Gaga), who socks over a killer version of La Vie En Rose. Jackson is stunned, as well he might be. They have an adventure together and Ally’s unimpressed attitude to celebrity and her vocational attitude to music entrances Jackson. He falls deeply in love, even showing up at the family home, where she mortifyingly still lives with her dad, played by Andrew Dice Clay. Jackson finally gets her up on stage with him for a duet, and her greatness is obvious, but a dark shadow falls when she is approached by creepy Brit talent manager Rez (Rafi Gavron), under whose tutelage Ally seriously blows up. She is writer, singer, dancer and sex bomb. Poor Jackson is fame 1.0 and he realises Ally is fame 2.0, and the crunch comes when he is humiliatingly bumped from a promised opening slot at the Grammys, singing a tribute cover to Roy Orbison – of all the tellingly obsolete bygone stars. Ally, meanwhile, is up for three awards that very same evening.

Cooper is arguably prettier than Lady Gaga, but she is the one who commands your attention: that sharp, quizzical, leonine, mesmeric face – an uningratiating face, very different from the wide-eyed openness of Streisand or Garland. (Weirdly, she rather more resembles Marta Heflin, playing the groupie-slash-interviewer who went to bed with Kristofferson in ’76.) Her songs are gorgeous and the ingenuous openness of her scenes with Jackson are wonderfully sympathetic. Meanwhile Cooper, whose screen persona can so often be bland and unchallenging, makes precisely this conservative tendency work for him in the role. He is so sad you want to hug him. Arguably, this film fudges some of Jackson’s dark side, by giving him partial deafness as well as alcoholism, but it is still a richly sympathetic spectacle.
For all that it’s hokum, this film alludes tactlessly to something pretty real. It could be called: A Star Is Dying. The new generation supplants the existing one. For one star to get an award, a handful of defeated nominees have to swallow their pain, as the spotlight moves away from them. For one star to deliver the shock of the new, another one has to receive the shock of the old. A Star Is Born turns that transaction into a love story.



Smallfoot (2018) - Film Review

Smallfoot (2018)


Cast

Channing Tatumas Migo (voice)
James Cordenas Percy (voice)
Zendayaas Meechee (voice)
LeBron Jamesas Gwangi (voice)
Gina Rodriguezas Kolka (voice)
Yara Shahidias Brenda (voice)
Ely Henryas Fleem (voice)
Jimmy Tatroas Thorp (voice)
Director

Karey Kirkpatrick
Co-Director

Jason Reisig
Writer (based on the book "Yeti Tracks" by)

Sergio Pablos
Writer (story by)

John Requa
Glenn Ficarra
Karey Kirkpatrick
Writer

Karey Kirkpatrick
Clare Sera
Editor

Peter Ettinger

Animation, Comedy

Rated PG for some action, rude humor, and thematic elements.
109 minutes






“Smallfoot” is an animated musical about … totalitarianism?

This may sound like a wildly contradictory concept. But the family-friendly film from director and co-writer Karey Kirkpatrick (“Over the Hedge”) and co-director Jason Reisig is surprising in its forward-thinking foundation. If only the dialogue and visuals matched the daring of its ideology.

Among the multiple screenwriters is the team of John Requa and Glenn Ficarra, who’ve shaken things up in the past most notably with the influential “Bad Santa.” “Smallfoot” urges kids to think for themselves. To question what they’ve been taught. To challenge authority. It takes place in a mountaintop society of yetis where the rules are literally etched in stone and must be followed for fear of banishment. “Smallfoot” could be viewed as a statement on the restrictive nature of government, religion or both. It’s a bold and exciting thematic choice for a film aimed at mainstream audiences of all ages.

Ah, but there’s the problem. “Smallfoot” IS aimed at mainstream audiences of all ages, meaning it must be palatable on a mass scale. And so the look of the film is blandly pleasing, and the antics have a familiar “Looney Tunes” squash-and-stretch aesthetic, and the songs are reminiscent of ones you’ve heard in previously successful animated movies. The opening sequence is pretty much a beat-for-beat recreation of the joyous “Everything Is Awesome” at the beginning of “The LEGO Movie” (although the song that accompanies it is not nearly as insanely catchy). Later, upbeat chase music throughout calls to mind the perky score of the “Despicable Me” movies.

Channing Tatum lends his voice to a sunny, furry beast named Migo, who’s essentially a yeti version of Chris Pratt’s LEGO construction worker, Emmet. He begins his day in a cheery way, being psyched about mundane stuff and joining his neighbors in a tune about how “we like living this way.” Migo’s dad, Dorgle (Danny DeVito), has the responsibility of starting each day for the village by summoning the giant, orange snail that travels across the sky; he does this by slingshotting himself through the air and hitting a gong with his head. (You may know this better as the sun rising.)

Everyone performs his or her job and stays in his or her place. Do as you’re told, blend in and always follow the stones: Those are among the chief guiding beliefs in this society. The leader of them all is the seemingly benevolent Stonekeeper (Common), who wears the rules as a massive vestment made of individually carved rocks. Any knowledge of the outside world comes in scattered and confusing pieces; a roll of toilet paper is mistaken as “The Scroll of Invisible Wisdom,” a ski pole is a horn and a down jacket is a pelt. It’s another rip-off of “The LEGO Movie”: taking everyday household items and making them seem mysterious.

But one day, when he wanders astray, Migo encounters a Smallfoot—a human who has crashed his plane and landed in the snow-capped mountains near the yetis’ home. Each has heard legends about the other; each is terrified of the other. One of the movie’s more consistently amusing bits is the distorted way each hears the other’s voice. The yeti comes off as gruff and growly when he’s really just trying to have a pleasant conversation; the human, by contrast, is squeaky and skittery when he’s trying to be calm and cool.

Meanwhile, down below in a town at the foot of the Himalayas, wildlife TV host Percy (James Corden) desperately tries to salvage his career by faking a confrontation with a yeti. But he doesn’t have to pretend for long when Migo shows up, following his newfound curiosity. From there, “Smallfoot” tracks the unlikely friendship between the two, and the ways in which it expands both characters’ understanding. (Unfortunately, this includes a wrong-headed, rap-karaoke version of Queen and David Bowie’s iconic “Under Pressure.”)

Also along to help expand Migo’s horizons is the Stonekeeper’s daughter, Meechee (Zendaya), a strong-willed, scientifically-minded young woman who’s secretly been daring to think for herself all along. And burgeoning actor/sometime basketball player LeBron James lends his voice to the character of Gwangi, a hulking, purple-hued beast with a heart of gold. But most of the characters have a shaggy sameness to them in drab shades of cream and blue, and they’re stuck saying variations of the same lines over and over.

But what’s exciting about “Smallfoot” is the way its characters increasingly push against what they’ve been told is true their whole lives—even if the lies were concocted to protect them. The Stonekeeper’s immediate reaction upon seeing a human with his own eyes is to deny, deny, deny. He refutes the scientific evidence that’s right in front of him. The Smallfoot is #FakeNews.

All of which makes this superficially sweet film so startlingly relevant. If only it had more panache in the execution—then everything truly would have been awesome.


The Old Man and the Gun (2018) - Film Review

The Old Man and the Gun (2018)


Cast

Robert Redford as Forrest Tucker
Casey Affleck as John Hunt
Sissy Spacek as Jewel
Tika Sumpter as Maureen Hunt
Danny Glover as Teddy
Tom Waits as Waller
Director

David Lowery
Writer (based on an article by)

David Grann
Writer

David Lowery
Cinematographer

Joe Anderson
Editor

Lisa Zeno Churgin
Composer

Daniel Hart

Comedy, Crime, Drama

Rated PG-13 for brief strong language.
93 minutes



David Lowery’s “The Old Man & the Gun” is as deceptive as its protagonist. It tells the story of a man so likable and gentlemanly that tellers and bank managers practically handed him their money as he went about one of the most infamous robbery sprees in American history. But however suave the movie itself may be, it's another accomplished piece of work from a filmmaker who is now four for four, and continues to surprise with the range of his interests and output. And it’s a love letter to a cinematic legend, serving as a perfect final film for someone who long ago surpassed mere actor status to become an icon.

Of course, that legend is Robert Redford, who has stated that “The Old Man & the Gun” is his final film. Flashing his smile and allowing his eyes to twinkle in ways he hasn’t in years, Redford leans into this part as a natural extension of some of his most beloved characters. When he says he’s never ridden a horse before, the line plays like a joke because we can all picture the Sundance Kid atop his steed.

Here, he plays Forrest Tucker, a lifelong criminal who has been incarcerated 18 times, starting as early as 15, and escaped from most of the prisons that tried to hold him (there's a montage of the escapes that's an absolute delight and even uses some classic Redford film footage). We meet him near the end of his criminal career, as he’s settled into a groove as what could be called a gentleman bank robber. With two buddies who will be known as the Over the Hill Gang (Danny Glover & Tom Waits), Forrest robs banks with a casual opening of his jacket to reveal a gun and kind words for his victims. He tells one teller who starts to cry that she’s doing a great job. He’s encouraging, and it’s essential that he relies on his charm as much as firepower. Lowery never even shows us the gun when Forrest opens his jacket, staying on a face-and-shoulders shot. Those blue eyes and that smile are the real weapons.

The final days of the Over the Hill Gang are framed by two supporting characters. First, there’s Jewel (Sissy Spacek), who Forrest meets as her car has broken down on the side of the road—looking in her trunk serves as good cover as the cops chasing Tucker speed by. Forrest takes a liking to Jewel, even telling her what he does, but she doesn’t believe him. The two often sit in a diner or on Jewel’s large property and the result is cinematic magic. There’s something in these scenes between Redford and Spacek that’s impossible to recreate with any other actors, and Lowery knows it. He leans into the magic of the moment, realizing that he’s there to really capture something timeless and at least somewhat beyond his control. I could watch the two of them just laugh and talk for hours—they make something almost intangible look so effortless.

Second, there’s John Hunt (Casey Affleck), who becomes the lead cop in trying to capture Forrest. He’s the first one to figure there’s even a crime spree taking place. The Over the Hill Gang robs banks in different states and it’s usually small takes. Hunt tracks them down and becomes the Pacino character to Redford’s De Niro one in the “Old 'Heat'” analogy. Affleck is great too, almost impressed by Forrest’s chutzpah as Hunt has just crossed the big 4-0 himself and he too is fascinated by someone who doesn’t just want to “make a living,” he wants to really live. Tucker doesn’t do it for the money. He does it because he’s restless and good at it.

Lowery and his team, especially cinematographer Joe Anderson and composer Daniel Hart, give “The Old Man & the Gun” a very period-heavy feel. It’s a movie that doesn’t just take place in a different era—the true story unfolds, mostly, in 1981—but feels like it was made in a different era too. The film stock, the music choices, the cinematic language—it’s all very different from what we’re accustomed to in 2018, enhancing the magical, timeless aspect of the entire project. It's as cheesy as it sounds but this is one of those movies for which the phrase "they don't make 'em like that any more" was invented.

After all, this is a story about a legend in his own mind, someone who clearly wanted his life to be told in stories on porches with beers in hands, so its teller should embrace that aesthetic. And so Lowery enhances the charming outlaw attitude of it all, resulting in a movie that’s so light on its feet that some people will think it just floats away. At first, it might. But, make no mistake, you’ll think about this film. It'll be a line of dialogue, or an image of Redford’s charm or Spacek’s laugh or Affleck’s attitude—it’s just one of those movies that keeps sneaking up on you in memory. Like Forrest himself, it refuses to go away. And like Redford himself, it’s unforgettable.  


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.


 
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