3 Short Paragraphs (Or Not): The Accountant 2

2025, Gavin O'Connor (The Accountant) -- Amazon

Since Bill Dubuque wrote the previous movie, he garnered success with Ozark. Neither Kent nor I wrote about that acclaimed show; I watched one episode of it, and where most people suffer superhero-fatigue, mine is more strongly seated in "horrible family crime show" fatigue. For some reason, I more inclined to watch a "damaged but brilliant" detective/investigator show, but watching terrible families do terrible things, even if they are the protagonists, is just not my thing. Is that fatigue? I think I was tired of it before it became a thing.

Anywayz, this is a round-about way to respond to my own comment on the first movie -- that Dubuque would be worth watching. I responded well to the first movie, and even in my rewatch, I still greatly enjoyed it. It was a small movie, quirky. I realized something during my rewatch; I am not convinced that Christian (Ben Affleck, Argo) is an assassin at all. I think he does accounting work for the mobs (plural is important) and because he works with so many, and because of how he and his brother were raised, he is prepared for any sort of violent repercussions. Thus his entire life is contained within an airstream trailer, half domestic necessities, half weapons locker. But he does not kill for a living. He's an accountant.

This movie picks up some time after the first one. Raymond King (JK Simmons, Red One), the Financial Crimes director from the first movie, now retired, is doing private detective work for someone named Anais (Daniella Pineda, Cowboy Bebop). They are meeting in a bar, but someone has followed him or maybe her, and in the gunfight, King is killed, but she slips away. Later, in the morgue Medina (Cynthia Addai-Robinson, The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power), who followed in King's footsteps, rising in the ranks of FinCEN with the help of Christian and his handler, reads "find the accountant" scrawled on King's arm.

Something about preambles, and recounting them, always interests me. I like a good (re)establishment of a coming story. Questions arise, reminders are provided. Motives are offered. Medina does indeed call our "hero" and despite being more uncomfortable with his business than her mentor ever was, she begins to work with him. Christian does his "thing" taking all the boxes of information King had collected, and collating it into a story about a family from El Salvador fleeing to America. But the father was killed, found in a mass grave, and ... who was King looking for? The mother? The child? Both? Who is Anais? Why does she want them found? So much of the movie is about filling in little blanks, while providing so much more, establishing Anais as a boogeyman killer, someone both law enforcement and criminals fear, another violent person available by a single phone call.

It leads them to LA. And Christian reaches out, in his usual neurodivergent way, to his brother Braxton (Jon Bernthal, Ford v Ferrari), whom he hasn't talked to since he blew up Braxton's last job. Braxton is a proper hitman and security thug, the usual Goon or Henchmen hired in other movies to do the dirty work for proper Bad Guys. He's pretty pissed at his brother but comes to LA anyway. And thus, the movie becomes a ... cough... buddy comedy?

Its still pretty dark in its content, a story about trafficking and coyotes and child slavery, but the "fun" comes from watching Braxton and Christian interact. It wasn't my thing. Sure, it is funny. Christian gaming a match making agency but still creeping all the women out. Christian adapting well to country line dancing. Braxton always being brash and loud mouthed and violent and ... basically an asshole older brother. Sure, I chuckled. But it wasn't my thing.

Eventually the movie degrades / succeeds into a typical action-thriller mass gunfight. The brothers are tracking down the whereabouts of the surviving child from El Salvador, in a child labour camp in Mexico, while Medina finishes King's investigation and discovers what happened to the mother. Its a weird, odd, very interesting spin on Christian's neurodivergence, having the mother suffering a brain injury, losing her memory, losing her personality, becoming a ... well, world-class killer in about four years, aka Anais. Spin-off character? In Hollywood's current weird confusing world of franchise love, why not? 

Braxton and Christian shoot and blow up their way to heroism, some loose ends are tied up (with murder) and Anais's son, who also happens to be autistic, moves into that weird group home where Christian grew up, and where his childhood friend, and now handler, runs.... an intelligence agency?

Dubuque doubled and tripled down for this movie. Its not at all what I was expecting from a sequel. Its a fine movie, seriously, a decent well-done action-thriller, but... still, not what I wanted.

Part of me wanted to blaze through this movie writeup, and the next few blog posts, focusing on the ultra-violence, the gun play, as all of them are dominated by such, as are my viewing habits. But in the end, that contributed very little to my memory of the movie, beyond a recollection of scenes in the trailers depicting a very different version than what ended up in the final movie. I wonder if that will play out similarly in the next few movie's posts.

KWIF: Blood Simple (+3)

 KWIF=Kent's Week in Film.

This Week: 
Blood Simple (1983, d. Joel Coen - dvd)
Slayground (1983, d. Terry Bedford - dvd)
Bank Shot (1974, d. Gower Champion - Tubi)
Brick (2025, d. Phillip Koch - netflix)

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My favourite podcast, Blank Check with Griffin and David, has started covering the works of the Coen brothers, and I am so here for it. I will be watching every film Joel and Ethan Coen have directed before each episode of the podcast drops, so buckle in for 18 weeks of Coen Bros. content. 

The trick for me then is to get my reviews written before I cave and listen to the podcast, because, undoubtedly, the podcast will shape maybe what I have to say about a movie, if not necessarily my opinion of it. Although, over time, with the amount of history and information the podcast drops about their subject, it's bound to influence what I have to say anyway. Knowledge is like that. It changes how you think. Who knew?

The Coen's catalogue of films is not the easiest to access. Only a handful of their films are currently available on any streaming service, and most of them are out of print on physical media. I've been waiting for nearly 20 years for some form of complete boxed set of the films of the Coens to get released, but I understand why it's never happened. Nearly every film was released by a different distributor than the previous (not entirely true, but if we look at their 18 films together*, they were released by 12 different distributors) which makes it hard for any physical media manufacturer to coordinate with all those different companies to form a comprehensive set. And so I've made a concerted effort to hunt for the Coens on DVD and/or Blu-ray, which after visiting a dozen different shops selling used and/or new, I'm still six films down from the set.

Blood Simple I knew was going to be one of the easy ones to get. It's part of the Criterion Collection, and thus readily available. Did I get a criterion edition? No I did not, since I found a used version of the original DVD release, and decided to save myself some cash. I had watched Blood Simple for the first time two decades ago and I had been rather enamoured with it. I've always intended to watch it again, to get a copy of it for myself, and it never happened. Over time I began to doubt if my reaction to it was legit, mostly because I forgot anything about the film entirely, except how I felt after watching it. 

This happens to me a lot, which is reason #1 for this blog's continued existence, so I can write about my experience with a film to remind me later of what I actually thought about it and why. I have to say, I think I had the exact same experience for a second time, and I kind of regret not buying the Criterion edition (it's an easy regret to correct).

Looking at Raising Arizona last week, I commented on how it felt like the prototype for the Coen Brothers to come, that everything is rudimentary, and unhoned. All the pieces seem very Coen-esque but they don't quite sing (or yodel) in harmony quite as sweetly. 

But Raising Arizona is one side of the Coen Bros. repertoire, the lighter, more humourous side that seems to be what is most memorable about them. But if you look at their greatest successes, what has garnered them the most acclaim and awards, it's their darker instincts, the noir the percolates inside them. Half their output swings one way or the other, but when that weirdness they infuse in their films becomes disturbing instead of funny, it's so damn gripping. And it's in Blood Simple fully formed. 

It's so rare that a first effort is this definitive, this strong and singular in voice or tone or style. This is a Coen Bros. film through and through (*even though Joel is the only credited director of most of their early films, up to Intolerable Cruelty), but the brothers got lucky in the people they partnered up with. Barry Sonnenfeld is their director of photography, and Carter Burwell's score is just the first of many incredible collaborations between them.  Of course, Joel's life partner Frances McDormand is the co-lead which is an absolute stroke of luck that she turned out to be one of the most talented actors of her generation.

The film opens with Abby (McDormand) on the road with Ray (John Getz). They wind up at a motel together. The phone rings. Ray picks up. It's Abby's husband, Julian (Dan Hedaya) who Ray also happens to tend bar for. They've been followed by a sleazy private eye Visser (M. Emmet Walsh) who brings Julian some tawdry photos of the couple.  

Julian tries to take matters into his own hands, but, in Coen Bros. fashion, he's not some grand crime lord, he's just a sleazy guy with an ill temper. He hires Visser to kill the pair. Visser fakes the murders to get paid, but then shoots Julian but with Abby's gun he stole. What happens after that is about an hour of pure Coens at work and play.

It's a series of assumptions, of missed clues, of mistaken identities that leads to an intense climax and an exasperated sigh of relief that is also as darkly hilarious as anything the Coens would put to film afterwards. This film ends on an absolute high watermark for the Coens careers, a note which they somehow match over and over again, if not always consistently.

The mood is perfectly set throughout and at just over 90 minutes, this film is tight as hell, and really no wasted space (the film was even edited down from the theatrical and early home video cuts by the Coens to tighten it up even more). Like how Raising Arizona is the harbinger of the Coens' comedies to come, Blood Simple establishes what it looks like when they strip away their more cartoonish impulses.  

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One of my active long-term viewing projects is to watch and write about all the various adaptations of the Parker series of novels by Richard Stark (aka Donald E. Westlake). I've never even read any of the books in the series directly, only the brilliant comic book adaptations by the late Darwyn Cooke. Those graphic novels are incredible and instilled a deep affection for the character and the series...or at least Cooke's envisioning of it.

To date I've seen the terrible Jason Statham-starring Parker, the rock solid Mel Gibson Payback (at least one version of them at least), and the nearly note-perfect Lee Marvin in Point Blank,which are the three most readily available adaptations. The rest are all going to take a bit of hunting and keeping an eagle eye out for, like Slayground, which I found on a used DVD rack (while hunting for Coen Brothers films) and *yoinked* off the rack with the utmost gusto.

According to star Peter Coyote in an interview in the bonus features, the film is the product of British ad men who decided to try their hand at filmmaking. And it shows. It's not a bad looking film, but pacing, character, editing and story logic all suffer throughout.

I haven't read Westlake's Slayground, and Cooke didn't get to Slayground before his passing, so the plot was unfamiliar to me. In it, Stone (Coyote's Parker substitute) and a professional acquaintance meet up to enact a planned job, but their driver (unbeknownst to them) has been murdered in an unrelated incident. Rather than abandon the job, they hire a plucky young kid who likes to spin his wheels. The job goes off as planned but in the getaway their driver gets panicked and unnecessarily reckless and causes another car to flip, killing the passengers inside, including a young girl.

The girl's grieving father is a man of means and hires a professional to find the people responsible for killing his little girl... which he does. The driver is his first victim, Stone's acquaintance is next, and after a two close calls, one putting him in the hospital, Stone needs to get not just out of town or state, but the country altogether. He heads to London where a man owes him a favour, but it's not long before trouble finds him, and things come to a dark, dangerous head.

The story is definitely not the issue. There's a skeleton here that is very well engineered and moves pretty elegantly. The heist itself is pretty clever, and the set-up for the story of a bad man running from the consequences of his actions makes for a good crime film.  The majority of the issues are in the muscle tissue over top of the skeleton, they're all gnarled and knotted up. We're talking about Stone. Stone is not Parker, and that's fundamentally wrecks the character's journey.

The thing about Parker is that he's pretty much dead inside. He's a survivor, but he almost doesn't care if he lives or dies. He plots his jobs, gets his cash, lives his life like he wants to and washes, rinses and repeats. When things get complicated, Parker deals with the complications. He has his own code of conduct he adheres to which has little room for morals. Parker has had women in his life, a wife, and girlfriends, who he seems to be able to detach from with only a little difficulty (I imagine some of the tragedies in his life are responsible for his inner deadening). Stone is really none of these things, and it fundamentally breaks the story.

To start, when the substitute driver causes the wreck, Stone insists with violence that he stop the car, and Stone goes to investigate if anyone has survived. When he finds the little girl, he's devastated and mournful. Once he learns of the hitman after him, he sends his wife away to Mexico while he jets off to England because she shouldn't be around him (and when he tries to play it off coolly in a very Parker-esque fashion that she will only get in the way of his survival, she calls bullshit and sees right through him (which would not be the case for the real Parker). In evading this hitman and finding his way out of country, Stone winds up getting associate after associate killed. Parker wouldn't care, but the way Stone is portrayed, he really should.  It's all mixed up and backwards (Coyote talks about how little the writers and director wanted his input on crafting the character) and it cuts the feet out under the picture. It's trying to paint Stone as at least a noble criminal, but he's not. He's a coward, running from the consequences of his actions, and continually getting better people killed. There's something to that idea, but this film doesn't really know what to do with it nor how to reinforce it.

I do love a continent-jumping production, and there's something about watching an '80's crime drama/thriller that originates from an American, is produced by Brits, but starring an American and shot on both sides of the pond. It's a real melange of the two in largely a positive way. As much as it doesn't hold together, I was still fascinated watching it crumble apart.

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Speaking of Westlake, in searching the streamings for more Parker fuel, I expanded my search to other Westlake novel adaptations and happened upon the 1974 heist comedy, Bank Shot. Not only is Bank Shot a film I've never, ever heard of before, it's ostensibly a sequel to the 1972 Robert Redford vehicle The Hot Rock...which I've also never, ever heard of before. Both films are adaptations of Westlake's "Dortmunder" series, which by all accounts seems to be "Parker, but funny".

Bank Shot stars George C. Scott as Walter Ballantine, a master heist planner. When we meet Ballantine he's in a hard labour prison camp under Warden Streiger (Clifton James). An accomplice of his, Al G. Karp (Sorrell Brook) poses as Ballantine's lawyer and informs him of a particular job that only he can score. He's hesitant but intrigued, so he busts out of prison...with style. He's met by vivacious El (Joanna Cassidy melting the screen) who helps him elude the cops, and they're on a private plane to Los Angeles. (It turns out El is the "money man" backing the job, but it is never explained where El gets the money from, nor is it truly clear why she is backing the job. She's conspicuously fixated on Ballantine, sexually if not romantically, but we're never given any sense why. Ballantine for his part seems to want nothing to do with her, which is both perplexing and pretty funny).

In L.A. they meet up with Karp and Karp's ex-FBI nephew Victor (Bob Balaban), who's into old, old cars, and paranoia. They don't really know that hot on their tail is Warden Streiger and his FBI attached Andrew Constable (G. Wood) although they're just as good at chasing their own tail as following any leads.

The job is a bank heist, but one of serious opportunity. See as a local bank is in the process of building their new facility, they have a temporary trailer that acts as the bank, and once a week the deposits have to be held overnight for plot reasons. The heist, as Karp and team have planned is garbage, but Ballantine figures out the solution: don't rob the bank, steal the trailer.

They set about their preparation and planning and it's tense, but comically so. By the time the big day comes they set out their distractions and off they go with their prize. But Warden Streiger knows how Ballantine thinks and he's often only one step behind, but that's all Ballantine really needs. The only problem is, the safe in the bank is no easy nut to crack, so time in a stolen trailer isn't on their side. All roads lead to...well, the ocean, really.

Bank Shot isn't a lost classic, but it ages surprisingly well compared to other comedies of its era. It's not really punching down on anyone, which most comedies were prone to doing at the time. The script is fun, with a bevvy of unique and eccentric characters, each portrayed by game actors with a real take on the role. Scott is a gifted comedic actor, able to sell sincerity within being straight-laced while still making it funny. He's just shy of being hammy but never goes over the line, he's an intuitive performer an knows the limit. 

The story has many set pieces which all range from competent to well-shot, though perhaps limited by budget and practical effects. The story itself relies upon the ineptness of the police and FBI, which is never not funny even if it's not realistic. 

There's a little bit of slapstick, plenty of visual gags, wacky one-liners, and some straight up character-based comedy. It's striving real hard to be a good time, and it mostly is.

The major drawback is a score that seems to have been inspired by turn of the century circus music, and it's pretty grating. It's striving for whimsy but the film calls for something a lot less obvious.

The tone director Gower Champion establishes is a comedic one, and though his experience as a film director was limited to this and a TV movie, he was a celebrated stage director, which shows in the way he gets his ensemble moving in the frame. His use of foreground/midground/background is often a very strong contributor to the fun of the movie. It's at times halfway to Airplane or The Naked Gun-style comedy. But it never reaches it because the script and the execution are at odds with each other.

The script wants to be a lighthearted romp, while the director wants it to be a full-out farce, and it toggles between the two in a somewhat dissatisfying manner. They both contribute to the levity, but they're at odds with each other. Overall it was a good time but somehow unsatisfying. The payoff didn't quite pay off. 

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Tim (Matthias Schweighöfer) is a video game developer who has been putting his all into his work, to the point of shutting out his wife, Olivia (Ruby O. Fee). She miscarried and it's depressed them both, but rather than bring them closer in their grief it's put up walls. Olivia quits her job and wants to head out on a dream vacation and a head start, Tim's work seems to be nothing but pressure and misery but he can't imagine following suit. So Olivia packs up, ready to leave with or without him, and if she goes alone, she's not coming back... except, without them noticing, literal walls have gone up containing them in their second floor multiplex home.  

It's the strangest material that seems unaffected by any form of impact... hammering, drilling, fire, nothing phases it. It's covered the door, the windows, and even drilling through the exterior walls reveals that it's there too.  But the inner walls, to the neighbouring apartment are fair game. And so Olivia and Tim start connecting with the drug-loving, and most in-love Air BnB couple next door, and then make their way beneath them, encountering more neighbours they barely know (if at all) and discovering a little more about what happened. Of course, one of the neighbours is an unhinged crackpot conspiracy theorist and will go to extremes to stop the gang from attempting to escape their prison, which he's convinced is there to keep him safe.

It's a low-budget, high-concept film that is completely boilerplate sci-fi, that delivers all the expected complications and resolutions, both to the plot and the character conflict. It's got a very watchable sense of discovery even if it all feels so A-to-B-to-C-to-D in its execution. There's some comfort in the familiarity of execution, but very little satisfaction. It's all competently produced and well acted, but it doesn't have any real...zing to it. There's no magic and no surprises. It even ends exactly how I thought it would, because I've seen enough of these to know that every single one of these types of movies owes a debt to The Twilight Zone. Whether the bricks are alien, extradimetional or experimental(/experiment-gone-wrong), the ending was all but assured. No matter what, the story outside was bound to be more interesting than what we followed inside.

If a story is going to be this route one, it needs some real visual pinache to elevate it and it doesn't. I most enjoyed the idea of tearing through walls and floors connecting people together, but it doesn't use that to its fullest advantage, nor really revels in how distinct a conceit it actually is.  

3 Short Paragraphs (Or Not): The Old Guard 2

2025, Victoria Mahoney (a lot of TV including Lovecraft Country) -- Netflix

This movie is the sequel to the first one. 

Really deep statement there, toasty me fellow.

I recently rewatched the first one, in preparation for this viewing. It stands up. As is common with what I consider "middling actioners" once I get into the rewatch cycle, I can ignore what I didn't care for first time round, focus on what I do like. I expected pretty much the same from this sequel.

So, yeah, we pick up ... (Googles) ... six months after the events of 1. Andy (Charlize Theron, Hancock) is mortal, Nile (KiKi Layne, Captive State) is still with the team and .... frak, I don't even recall what the opening action sequence was about, beyond re-introducing the characters to us, new haircuts and all. But the real opening sequence is seeing the retrieval of Andy's old girlfriend Quỳnh (Quinn; ahh the stereotypical fantasy naming convention of taking a standard name and adding apostrophes to it; Veronica Ngô, Bright) from her entombed state at the bottom of some ocean location Andy could never pin down. Someone had the resources to locate her, and we know it won't lead to anything good.

Nile has a dream about a library, which triggers a look from Andy. Said librarian is Tuah (Henry Golding, Last Christmas), another immortal Andy doesn't talk about, someone from her past who stepped away from the violence to study... everything? Tuah explains that yet another immortal (they need to sit Andy down with a, "are there any other immortals you need to tell us about?!?") named Discord (the social platform must be named for her; Uma Thurman, My Super Ex-Girlfriend) stole some books from his library and is ... after Andy and her crew. Also, she kidnapped Booker, who was in exile, and yes, she has recovered Quỳnh -- that shakes Andy to her core. What Discord's motives are is unclear.

Now that I think back on this movie, its feeling a bit over-stuffed, like the mid-franchise Marvel movies. There are more immortals, there is a first immortal, there is a mythical connection between the "first immortal" and the "last immortal". There is an old failing and bitterness, and there is an even older bitterness. So much drama. And there is a Chinese nuclear facility that is part modern art exhibit, part death-dungeon, but is very little.. power plant? Absolutely none of that sequence made any sense to me. I don't actively dislike any of the movie, but it all ends up feeling muddled. Like many sequels, it ends up trying to be more than the original, but somehow ends up being much less. And like many other sequels, this one ends on a cliffhanger.

I really enjoy the idea of this movie franchise. I love the fact it is primarily about women warriors and both movies have been helmed by women. Its comic book born and fantasy driven (swords & guns), which puts it square in my wheelhouse. There is a whole wide world to explore here, but I do wish they would mete this out carefully, and focus on the characters. These warriors have been around a really long time and that perspective is worth exploring. Petty grievances are human, and these immortals still are, as are failings & frailty, but I prefer these characteristics contribute to the story, not become focal points. 

ReWatch: District 9

2009, Neill Blomkamp (Gran Turismo) -- Amazon

Yup, my love of Neill Blomkamp all started with this movie, which I never wrote about before, and haven't watched in about a decade.

Weird; not a single Blomkamp post from Kent.

I have been doing a lot of rewatching, primarily to combat the "meh" reaction -- if I watch something I know I already enjoy then I will enjoy it again. But also because of the self-imposed, if I watch it, I have to write about it. Too many hiatus-i has added self-imposed weight to that ideal. But with rewatches the self-imposed ideal doesn't always apply. Sure, there is a tag, but that doesn't mean I have to write about every rewatch I do. That path would surely lead to madness.

Nuff self-justification there?

Anywayz, I never wrote about this pre-Blog movie before, likely because I haven't rewatched it a lot in the past 15 years or so. To be honest, I was kind of holding out for the expected sequel. It never happened. After the much maligned Chappie, Blomkamp never seemed to have recovered in the eyes of the public. He did a ton of short films, many via his Oats Studio, and has briefly returned with some outside of (usual) genre flicks. But I am not sure we will ever see the sequel, nor his return to proper robot-propelled scifi. One can hope.

District 9 takes on the format of a semi-mock-umentary, interspersing a news-style story of how low-level bureaucrat Wikus van de Merwe (Sharlto Copley, The A-Team) becomes an alien, literally. The movie postulates that in 1982 an alien spacecraft came to settle over Johannesburg, South Africa. Onboard the ship were a horribly treated worker species, and no signs of what happened to the owners/pilots of the craft and why it showed up at Earth. Not sure how to deal with the million plus bug-like aliens, they do what good humans like to do (most notably, more recently, see Gator Gitmo), and relocate the "prawns" to slum shanty towns. Twenty years later, with little to no understanding and no input from the rest of the world, nobody, prawn (the aliens are never actually given a non-pejorative name) or JoBurg resident, is happy with the situation.

The movie begins with van de Merwe assigned to a resettlement action. They are issuing "evictions" to the ramshackle shacks the prawns live in. Most don't understand, many react violently. The humans are armed to the teeth. But one, who goes by the name Christopher Johnson, has been working on something. Obviously smarter than the average prawn, he has a lost shuttle buried under his shack and he has been processing minute amounts of some sort of liquid for the last twenty years. When van de Merwe tears apart his shack, having discovered a ton of mysterious technology, he is sprayed by the liquid. And it begins... changing him. Not immediately, but not long after, he begins his own Kafka story.

District 9 did a brilliant job of mashing together so many ideas. Social satire, actual comedy, body horror and scifi actioner all come together, as van de Merwe tries to desperately find a way to stop what is happening with his body, and also survive the human response to it -- which is almost immediately intended to be fatal. The people in charge here are the Bad Guys. The effects stand up, startingly so, and its easy to be lost in the visuals between the overly-complicated alien bodies and the real world environments. Blomkamp loves his practical effects as well, as the details applied to the alien weaponry is apparent, even right down to the colour schemes chosen. 

After all these years, I am still astounded with how gripping the movie is, how effective the commentary on how inhuman we can be is. In reality, the alien we use to justify horrors doesn't have to be much. And while I still wish there had been a sequel, I am not sure I could ever be satisfied with what would be produced.

1-1-1: Poker Face Season 2

created by Rian Johnson

The What 100: Charlie is still on the run from mafia bounty hunters after the events of last season and bounces around from place to place, solving mysteries along the way. Beatrix Hasp (the woman who put the bounty on her head) does catch up with her but instead of killing her, she has need of her special talent as a human lie detector. Her help cuts her free of running from the mob. Even still she bounces from place to place, crime and death finding her wherever she goes. Eventually she winds up in New York with her '69 Barracuda on its last legs, but she has a place to sleep and maybe makes a new best friend to aide her in her accidental crime solving ways....

(1 Great) The mid-season episode, "Sloppy Joseph" was the standout episode for me. In a private grade school the quiet but, Elijah, the intelligent child of the institute's janitor is giving ace student Stephanie a run for her money in the gold star department. Stephanie has, to put it bluntly, psychopathic tendencies and cannot abide losing her top status in the class. So when it's time for the school talent show, she messes with Elijah's magic trick through elaborate means and he accidentally murders the class gerbil. Turns out Charlie has taken a temp job and starts to unravel Stephanie's scheming, which it turns out is much bigger than just what she's done to Elijah.

What makes this episode so great is that it's a very, very different type of crime. I guess there's still a murder (poor Joseph) but Charlie facing off against, well, a demon child is something quite different, and it touches on class/status issues that show how rich psychos kind of always get away with it even when they don't. It's like Columbo meets American Pycho except Patrick Bateman is an adorably unsettling 10 year old girl. 

(1 Good) Poker Face by its nature doesn't have a lot of stability in terms of cast and setting. By it's nature it's an "...of the week" type show, which finds Charlie in a different environment with different people every episode. Season one set up the premise that Charlie was on the run from the mob, so it made sense that she was constantly on the move and where she wound up was off the grid. This season however, after resolving the Beatrix Hasp issue, they eventually settle her down in New York City. Shenanigans happen again but she makes a friend in Alex (Kent household favourite Patti Harrison) who appears in the final four episodes. It seems like she's being set up to be Charlie's crime solving partner, which, when you love Patti Harrison like I do, delighted me to no end. What they do with Alex, however, is the show's mandate, which is disrupt any sense of status quo, and so the show's two-part finale kind of ties a bow on the season, bringing things ...if not full circle then into an outward spiral.

So yeah, Patti Harrison. Awesome. 

Also what Poker Face lacks in recurring cast and setting it makes up for in formulae. I still love that the first 10 - 20 minutes of each episode establishes the characters of the week, the environment they're in and the murder that takes place. Part of the fun is guessing how Charlie fits into the picture, which is always revealed after the first commercial break.

(1 Bad) Too much focus on guest stars, maybe? A victim of their own success, stars want to be in the Poker Face business, and boy are they ever. This season opened with Wicked's Cynthia Erivo playing quintuplets, and doing a great job, but it all felt a little too dazzling, especially when the next episode throws Giancarlo Esposito and Katie Holmes into the mix, followed by John Mulaney and Richard Kind, and then Kumail Nanjiani and Gaby Hoffman, and then and then and then...

Actually, looking at this list and more (Carol Cane, Simon Rex, David Krumholtz, Margo Martindale, Sam Richardson, Melanie Lynsky, John Cho, Awkwafina, Alia Shawkat, Method Man, Jason Ritter, Justin Theroux, Haley Joel Osment) I mean, yeah, these are all recognizable faces, but they're all character actors and really not Big Name Stars. These are the type of actors who should be guest starring in a well-made, popular, prestige murder mystery/comedy show. Much like last season's only slightly more modest guest cast.

I guess by the nature of the formulae, they wind up pulling focus away from Charlie, but Charlie kind of is the crime-solving vessel and will pull focus back on herself when she needs to. Is it a problem? Is it really bad? Probably not.

META: This season of Poker Face didn't seem to announce itself as loudly as season 1, which somehow neither Toasty nor I managed to write about on this blog. That seems impossible given that we both really seemed to dig it, but there you go. Time gets away from us all. Toasty had a brief mid-season 2 write-up where he seemed hesitant about this season, and we talked in person about how season 2 wasn't capturing the same vibe as season 1 (Toasty points out there's a new showrunner which probably explains it). It comes down to tone, I think. This season is lighter and more lighthearted than last season. There was an undercurrent of darkness and foreboding to season one that is missing here so it feels like its lost its grit a little bit. Above I called it a murder mystery/comedy. I wouldn't call season 1 a comedy, but season 2 sure is. At the very least, it seems a show that, foremost, wants to be fun. And it is. It really really is. 

I just miss that bit of grit.

[SPOILER]

RIP '69 Barracuda .

Double Dose: About Last Night

(Double Dose is two films from the same director, writer or star...or genre or theme...tilte...whatever...pretty simple.  Today: it's the same film, but not) 

About Last Night... (1986, d. Edward Zwick - hollywoodsuite)
About Last Night (2014, d. Steve Pink - hollywoodsuite)

About Last Night... started life as a play in the 1970's titled Sexual Perversity in Chicago by David Mamet. Mamet tried, and failed, to deliver an acceptable screenplay of the play and eventually Tim Kazurinski and Denise Declue crafted the script that became the 1986 Ed Zwick picture.

The film opens on scenes of Chicago, with the sound of Jim Belushi's blustering voice arrogantly going on and on about his prior night's escapades which, as we cut to the interior of Chicago's public rail transit, we see a wide-eyed Rob Lowe hanging off his every word. His words are crass, vulgar, sexist and, in tone alone, vile. The monologue continues as it cuts between Belushi's Bernie and Lowe's Danny in different settings, and one thing is absolutely clear, Bernie is repugnant.  A real '80's blowhard just absolutely teeming with straight white male entitlement, molesting random women clearly without consent. Sorry, not women... "broads".

Danny is the beautiful nice guy with his piercing blue eyes, square jaw, defined cheekbones, pretty smile and a thick mop of tussled hair. Danny doesn't really give back on what Bernie shells out, but it's clear he revels in these stories like Bernie is his mentor. So when Danny meets Debbie (Demi Moore) and is instantly smitten, all Bernie can say, repeatedly is basically how much monogamy sucks and that Danny is p-whipped. Bernie is the fucking worst. He's supposed to be the comic relief, but he's insufferable.

Hollywood tradition would infer that the film be told primarily from Danny's perspective, but, no doubt in large part thanks to Declue's involvement, Debbie is an equal protagonist here (well, almost, as this here review will wind up lopsiding to more of Danny's side of the script) and along with her cynical, disgruntled roommate Joan (Elizabeth Perkins) they are two exceptionally well-defined characters that feel much more lifelike than Danny or Bernie.

Debbie and Danny are infatuated with one another, and start spending all their free time together (and sometimes bunking off work too). They fuck a lot, and there are a lot of sex scenes which are quite tastefully done and not leering in the slightest. The camera is as enamoured with Lowe as it is with Moore, if not more so (or Moore-less).  Lowe is the prettiest creature in this film, without a doubt. 

Soon Debbie and Danny are moving in together despite the lamentations and protestations of Joan and Bernie. Debbie feels a little regret and confuses things with Danny, so he starts treating her like a roommate. She soon sees the error of her ways and says to Danny that she wants to know him, to get close, and Danny seems relieved. They confess their love for one another (I dunno...shouldn't that come before moving in together?) and things seem to go fine, except for Danny is severely unhappy with work, especially since his manager at the restaurant supply company tells him he has to cut off the struggling diner whose owner Danny is friends with.  This triggers a quarter-life crisis in Danny and he shuts down, becoming somewhat bitter and rather than talking through his feelings he just shuts Debbie out. She can't figure out what's going on with him. I was expecting an '80's romcom to have Debbie feels like she's done something wrong, to try and fix things even though it's not her fault, but she never acts that way. Moore's performance and the script's deft touch really do give her the awareness that she's not at fault in any particular way, except maybe for rushing into things too quickly.

Things continue to fall apart, slowly, over months. Eventually they come to a head at a New Year's party, and they break up.  Debbie is upset for a while, then starts dating again, and just tries to move on. Danny, filled with Bernie's godawful advice, tries to play the field but finds he's not into one-night stands and misses what he had with Debbie. He tries to connect with her, but she's having none of it (because she's a fully realized character and not a cinematic cliche). Danny goes full toxic male and starts stalking her. Really. But she tells him off, again, and he drops it, tries to move on, but can't.

He quits his job and refurbishes the jalopy diner because, bafflingly, he's always wanted to have his own restaurant (even though we never see him cook a damn thing).  With his professional life in place, he's finally happy, and when he sees Debbie again, she can tell he's different. He admits that things went awry because of him, but without really discussing any specifics on what he did wrong or how he could have behaved otherwise. Next to Bernie, it's the fatal flaw of this film that Danny, nor any other character, verbalizes the one thing Danny needed to do: communicate. Oh and drop Bernie as a friend.   

Danny's behaviour shifts from being a doe-eyed dope in love at the film's start to being resentful and bitter, but neither he, nor Debbie, nor this film seem to understand why, and it's a pretty sharp turn. It could absolutely be worse, in that it could *all* have been about being "tied down" or "playing house" like Bernie keeps suggesting.  It's definitely not only that, or even mostly that, although never labelling what it is means that the reunion at the film's finale feels like it's possibly doomed to fail again.

In the 2014 remake (the title of which drops the ellipses) Michael Ealy plays Danny, but this Danny is at least 10 years older than Lowe's, as is Joy Bryant's Debbie. While the story generally follows the same beats as its predecessor, shifting the age of the characters by ten years (or more) changes the situation, it changes the meaning behind what they're going through. In the '86 version, the pair moving in together feels impetuous, youthful, full of hope an energy, living in a dingy apartment starting a life together.  When Ealy and Bryant's duo move in together, they're experienced adults who both feel like professionals... and Ealy's studio loft apartment is pretty damn stunning, even if there is just a high-end bathtub in the middle of the bedroom.

Rather than have Danny dream of owning a restaurant, here Danny has ties to a bar owned by his late father's best friend (played by Christopher McDonald). When Danny has to cut off the bar's restaurant supplies, it cuts Danny to the core in a much more meaningful way. When Danny says he hates his job, it's that of a guy who has been working in the corporate structure for too long and *needs* to get out, rather than Lowe's Danny who is early in his working career and still trying to find what fits.  Danny needing a job and working behind his friend's bar only serves to further sink his emotional state in a meaningful way that Bryant's Debbie tries to make the best of, but is rebuffed adding further tension between them. Again, Debbie not doing anything wrong, but Danny shutting her out of his emotional situation. In the '86 version, Danny goes back to work at the restaurant supply company, only to quit again after the break-up. It's a less effective career journey for the character. I enjoy in both cases that Debbie is the more successful of the pair. It's never a direct point of contention in either case, surprisingly.

In this 2014 version, it's shockingly Bernie who breaks down for Danny what makes relationships work. But then, Kevin Hart's Bernie is a very different character than Belushi's. Where Belushi's take is full tilt toxic masculinity,  where anyone offended by him gets a "you can't take a joke?"  (You just know he's said a million times in his life "you can't say anything anymore.") Hart's Bernie is just a loudmouth, he likes to talk and talk, and he says outrageous things, but, by and large, they're not full of chauvinism and Hart's delivery is much more humourous. 

The biggest worry in the '86 version was that the film was angling to fix Bernie and Joan up. Any scene with the two of them together was full of spite and venom towards each other. Joan doesn't fall into conventional beauty standards (Perkins is so attractive though) and she's doesn't put up with Bernie's sleaziness, so Bernie is nothing but derogatory towards her. But the conventionally Hollywood wisdom is "opposites attract" and that pairing up the feuding best friend characters is funny. Mercifully it never, ever happens, and, frankly, by the end of the film, the two can still barely tolerate the presence of the other.  So imagine my surprise when the 2014 version opens with Bernie and Regina Hall's Joan already dating. In fact, they introduce Debbie and Danny together.

I was worried that if Hart's Bernie was going to be so much like Belushi's that it would ruin the character of Joan. But Hall's Joan is still loud, angry and doesn't put up with shit. She is a match for this version of Bernie...well, actually, his better. Hall goes toe-to-toe comedically with Hart, and their pairing is the film's constant highlight. Their sexual relationship is ridiculous, and these two performers give everything into it. A mid-credits outtake finds Hall and Hart verbally sparring back and forth until Hall drops a nugget that cracks Hart up to the point where he can barely breathe.

In nearly every respect the remake is a superior film. It is funnier, sharper, more insightful, and more logical. It's only in Moore's performance where the '86 film has the advantage. Bryant is really good, but Moore's Debbie had a snarky spark that Bryant's is missing. Both pairings of Debbies and Dannys are hot looking couples, and in both cases the chemistry works very well until its not supposed to. Early and Bryant's couple are shot with more steaminess but still not enough for my liking. I think, in both cases, we should feel the heat of this couple, and at best it's hot tap water.

Some other things the remake improves upon: 

• Danny's ex-girlfirend is a much bigger threat. In this version the film opens with Danny still reeling from the break up a year later (in the '86 version, Danny's hasn't had a serious relationship before, and it shows). As well, Danny's ex-girlfriend is Paula Patton, so, you know, I get it. But also once we meet Patton, who turns up while Debbie is away, we get why Danny didn't really learn how to be in a good relationship. She is a force, and everything is her way. She also tries to seduce Danny and it's a Herculean effort of resistance. In the '86 version, when Debbie and Danny break up he says he never cheated, to which Debbie sarcastically replies "well, let's give the boy a medal! I didn't realize it was such a sacrifice." But when Ealy's Danny says it, well, having seen Patton lock her target on him...he does kind of deserve a prize.
• Each film has a very minor pregnancy scare, and I like how each film handles it. They both handle it basically the same, with Danny being both shocked and relieved but also checking in with Debbie to see how she feels. She is also relieved but in the remake, given their mid/late-30's ages there's more nuance to it all. So moments later, when they're out on the street, Debbie fixates on a puppy from a street side rescue/adoption. She says they're at least ready for a dog, but Danny's not so sure. When he screws up Thanksgiving, he gets her the dog (named Pachino). The dog quickly becomes Danny's dog. I enjoyed how the film would incorporate the dog realistically into their lives (with Danny saying he needs to walk the dog first before doing something). Pachino starts off as a little terrier mutt then seems to blossom a couple seasons later into a weird massive doodle thing...it's the most unbelievable part of the film.
• In the remake, Danny and Debbie have more friends than just Bernie and Joan, which plays better in the scenes when they're out partying or Thanksgiving dinner being more than just the four of them.
• Hart and Hall really set the rhythm and timing of the comedy in this one, where it's sometimes easy to forget the original is intended to be funny. So it is weird when the remake reuses whole lines from the original that sometimes don't even fit in context or don't fit the character's voices...I guess they're just good lines that are too good not to use (I have to wonder how much of that is retained from Mamet's play). It's also very, very weird when Ealy and Bryant are watching the original on TV and commenting on how much they love it.  It's cute but also breaks my continuity-minded brain.

As much as the remake is a much more entertaining film, the '86 version is still very interesting and watchable, and in some ways progressive. It's very much a product of the 1980s and needs to be approached with that in mind, but it doesn't mean we need to detest Bernie any less, he remains one of the most repulsive characters in a romcom ever.

3 Short Paragraphs (Or Not): Sinners

2025, Ryan Coogler (Fruitvale Station) -- download

Hmm, never stubbed this.

Ever wonder how the reader feels about reading your inner dialogue. Cough. And even, two versions of it?

Kent raved about the movie. With good reason. 

...

Still never stubbed it.

And you never even wrote the post, and its like a month later.

...

Vampires and blues music. On the heat map of Toasty interests, vampires are probably in the dark orange and blues, in the hot yellow. I was somewhat into blues when I was a teen, even listening to recordings of Robert Johnson, and the tales of selling your soul at the crossroads for the ability to twang out a tune. It may or may not have been influenced by the 1986 Walter Hill (Supernova) movie, with Ralph Macchio, called Crossroads. Kind of surprised that Sinners didn't bring up the idea of deals with the devil at the crossroads, all things considered. I mean, a primary element of the movie is about the guitar player sinning.

But vampires, vampires have been my thing for a while now. Like the John Carpenter movie Vampires, this movie takes the classic creature of the night out of the Eastern European milieux and places it in the heart of Americana. And then Coogler takes the genre and mixes it into something else tactile and beautiful, if a little pedestrian as vampire movies go. As an example of the genre, its a lot of fun but no really new ground is broken, but as a movie, its tight and expansive and luxurious in nature.

Nice vague-booking there...

Identical twins Elijah "Smoke" Moore (Michael B Jordan, Fantastic Four) and Elias "Stack" Moore (Michael B Jordan, Chronicle) return home to Mississippi after being away for The War (I) and ending up in Chicago. They come home with a deadly reputation and a boatload of (stolen) cash, focused on opening up a roadhouse. It will be a Venn diagram of their likes: booze, music and food. Except the vampire being chased by Choctaw vampire hunters stumbles across their opening night.

Painfully too little of those Choctaw; they looked like they could have been a lot of in-world fun.

Much of the movie is meticulous setup. The characters are painstakingly (pun intended) presented to us, from the conflicting colour tones of the brothers, to the women they love, to the people they choose out of loyalty and history to help them realize their dream. Primary to that dream is music. And key to that music is their cousin Sammie (Miles Caton, feature debut), or Preacher Boy, son of a preacher who hates his son's devil born music. Obviously Sammie is the Robert Johnson of this movie, and perhaps the deal at his crossroads is to play for the two brothers, who are devils in their own right. 

Once the vampires are on the scene, its just ... rote violent fun. Don't get me wrong, I loved it, its a cut above most of the vampire dreck out there. Don't get me wrong; there was a time when we would have put this movie on The Shelf. I prefer the ultra-violent vampire myself, the monster instead of the lover. But considering the absolutely lovely setup the movie had, especially the absolute transcendent scene where they depicted the music of Sammie, how it reaches out past the juke joint he is playing in, out to the ages, across time and space, is just .... wonderful. I wanted more of that in the movie, so when the vampires attack, I was almost.... let down?

Still, in my constant complaining about only being subjected to the "meh" of the cinematic world, I am so glad this came along. I love a movie that I like the more I think about it, the more I recall scenes.

And since I didn't get into all the characterization, let's harp on the cast. Jack O'Connell (Rogue Heroes) as the vampire leader Remmick, an Irish bastard with his own love for music. Hailee Steinfeld as Mary, Stack's ex, who is not as white as everyone thinks she is, and not as black as she wants to be, with all the challenges that statement holds. Wunmi Mosaku (Passenger) as Smoke's ex and a local witch doctor. Delroy Lindo (Sahara) as Delta Slim, legendary piano & harmonica player, and bitter drunk.

Kent's We Agree.

KWIF: Superman (+2)

KWIF=Kent's Week in Film.

This Week:
Superman (2025, d. James Gunn - in theatre)
Raising Arizona (1987, d. Joel Cohen - hollywoodsuite)
The Awful Truth (1937, d. Leo McCarey - hollywoodsuite) 

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Superman is exactly the type of comic book movie I dreamed about all through the 1980s and 1990s, one that just drops you in the middle of an active superhero universe, assumes you already have a basic foundation on who these characters are, and goes from there. And boy does Superman go.

It's a lively, adventuresome, superheroic comic book of a movie, and yet I didn't leave completely satisfied. My whole family came out buzzing, having really, really enjoyed the film quite thoroughly, but I couldn't exactly match their energy. I wanted to love James Gunn's Superman, but I don't. I like it quite a bit but there's something holding me back.

This is, without a doubt, my favourite Superman movie, but then I never really cared for any of the others despite being a lifelong Superman fan (the familial surname in common kind of made it mandatory). David Corenswet is a great Superman, doing all the things I wish we'd been able to see Christopher Reeves or Henry Cavill do, both action wise and in a legit superhero universe. Corenswet's Clark is almost indistinguishable from his Superman, which may be the point, or maybe it's that there's not much time for Clark Kent in this film. This is the pure-hearted, people-first, happy-to-help Superman I grew up loving. There's no mopey Superman with a messiah complex here. Also, Gunn, in dodging past the character's origin story, minimizes the burden of Krypton, and, in fact, finds a jettison point so that it doesn't really ever have to be dealt with in this new DC cinematic universe again (despite Bradley Cooper being cast as Jor-El in an unglorified cameo).

Rachel Brosnahan is an incredible Lois Lane, I fell in love with her instantly...and she doesn't get rescued by Superman once this film but still feels integral. Incredible. She's also not fixated on Superman, not in the slightest. She's likes the lug but the world's too be a place to keep Lois' attention in one spot.

Nicholas Hoult's Lex Luthor is an evil slimy supergenius billionaire. We don't have any of those in real life (most of our evil slimy billionaires aren't geniuses) so Hoult is drawing from something other than just the real world. Plus his motivation this time is envy, jealousy, and pure hate (there's still a land scheme of sorts on top of everything though, as is tradition).

I could fill another dozen paragraphs talking about the rest of the cast, including the Justice Gang (Edi Gathegi's Mr. Terrific lives up to the name, while I don't think there's been a more note perfect page-to-screen translation of a Superhero than Nathan Fillion's Guy Gardner [iykyk]), the Daily Planet crew, Luthor's henchpersons, Clark's family, the Superman Robots, and, of course, Krypto.

It is a very well-stocked movie. It has a very large assembly of characters, and it moves fast. I thought at first that, perhaps, Superman was overstuffed, that there's too much going on, with too many characters. But that's not true. I never had a hard time tracking what was happening or why or to whom, and I was never unclear on character motivations. No, what I was thinking was "overstuffed" was actually me just wishing for more time with these characters, more time with this story, and more time in this world.

This is compressed storytelling. In the comic book realm, it used to be you would pick up a single superhero comic book issue, you would get a complete story. The 1980's really started serializing comics like long running soap operas, and by the 2000s the industry had basically solidified the five-or-six issue storyarc as the norm which has sustained ever since. "Decompressed" storytelling they called it.

I want Superman to be decompressed. I want more time with Lois and Clark and how things weigh on their relationship. I want more Daily Planet bullpen banter. I want Lex to really stoke the flames of public outrage against Superman, I want Clark and Lois to have more time with Ma and Pa Kent, I want more time at the Hall of Justice...I just want more of all of this and I feel let down that I don't have it.... that I just have this highly entertaining 129 minute film that is at once a filling meal that still makes me want more. This film, despite being part of a superhero universe, is self-contained. It's not setting up anything beyond the immediate story. 

Compared to other Superman films, the weakest point is the music. James Gunn is so used to constructing his movies around a soundtrack, and here he's opted for, mostly, an original score, but it just doesn't have the same delicious bite or synergy like the Guardians of the Galaxy trilogy or Suicide Squad. It's not terrible but I did find the score drawing my attention away from the events on screen from time to time, and not for positive reasons.

In some ways, Superman feels very experimental. It isn't following the rules that its predecessor superhero movies have followed, and it places itself into a reality the one could call escapist. It's a film where a guy in a cape and underwear on the outside has superhero pals and an unruly dog in a cape. Hard to mistake that for the real world. 

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In my teenage years as a budding cinephile, I watched Raising Arizona and, quite specifically, did. not. get it. It was one of those films that came highly recommended and critically lauded that completely went over my head.

Coen Bros. films can be like that. I remember coming out of The Big Lebowski having had an absolutely miserable time, only to fall deeply in love with it upon repeat viewings. My second viewing of Raising Arizona, a decade later, didn't go any better than the first. I don't think I've ever done a Coen Bros. ranking, but if I did, it would have remained in the bottom of my Coen Bros. rankings since that first viewing. 

I'm a more wizened film viewer now, with quite the affinity for most of the Coens repertoire, so surely this latest viewing of Raising Arizona will yield the dividends I always expected. 

Which it did. But...

I still didn't like it. I understood it this time, but I don't think it works. I feels like the prototype for a Coen Bros. movie. The basic tone and sensibilities, the small-stakes crime, the comedy and sentimentality are all there, but they're just not hitting the rhythms the way they would in their later films. 

I liked Nic Cage's H.I., a compulsive robber of convenience stores (with an unloaded weapon) who just keeps rotating through the local prison's revolving door. During every turn of the door, he finds time with Holly Hunter's Ed, a police officer whose main duty seems to be mugshot photos and fingerprint stamping. They fall in love and get married. H.I. goes straight and gets a job and things are good, until they find out they can't have kids and H.I.'s criminal record keeps them from legally adopting. Ed gets depressed, quits her job, and the joys in their life diminish.  And then local furniture magnate Nathan Arizona (Trey Wilson) has quintuplets and, according to one newspaper report, claims it's too much to handle. So Ed and H.I. get it into their mind to abduct one of the babies.

As a premise for a crime caper, the script does a fairly good job at showing us just how desperate Ed and H.I. are for a baby, and yet I still don't buy that anyone without a serious mental illness, would steal another person's child. The premise fundamentally doesn't work for me. It's a different story if they find the baby, become attached and fight through their guilt and jump through hurdles to try and keep it, but to proactively go out and steal a child is a big fucking ask that I just can't get behind.

There's a slapsticky sequence with H.I. in the quints' room trying not to make noise and negotiating all the babies as they quickly become too much for him to handle. This is still early in the Coens career (not far off from scripting the live-action cartoon that was Crimewave with Sam Raimi) so their comedic tone still owes a debt to Looney Tunes, something they wind up grounding a lot more in their later movies. It's so close to working here but can't quite grasp it, which is so much of the film for me.

Just as the new family unit is trying to cohere, H.I. and Ed are paid a visit by Gale (John Goodman) and Eville (William Forsythe), H.I.'s friends from prison who have just busted out and are on the lam. They start to ride H.I. about his straight-and-narrow ways, posing that tired-even-by-1980's-standards cliched question of "who wears the pants in the relationship". One thing leads to another and the film descends into a third act clusterfuck of people angling for the baby, including a bounty hunter H.I. envisions comes straight from hell (played, of course, by Randall "Tex" Cobb).

The third act, where everything falls apart in madcap fashion, should be a triumph, and there's glimmers of the Coen Bros. genius that's to come, but it doesn't all congeal. For instance, the fourth party, H.I.'s former boss, should really be in the baby-grabbing mix during this final act. But Goodman and Forsythe's part in it all is so good, I wish we had been following their characters all along instead.

The film's resolution is poppycock. It's the correct emotional payoff, and the Coens do their damnedest to get away from the Hollywood happy ending, but the scenario, just like at the start, finishes with a suspension of disbelief I can't buy into.

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I often think of films from the 1930s and 40s as being primitive, of their time, puritanical, having little to offer in a modern context. And so I tend to avoid them, even though my experience with films from the era have proven that, hey, adults made some of these things, smart adults with skill and talent and vision. Just because they were beholden to certain standards of "social decency" doesn't mean they can't be entertaining, insightful or artistic. I think I continue to avoid golden age of Hollywood movies because I really don't want to have to wade through the dreck, the studio films that were churned out as the "content" of the era. I need to basically trust the consensus on what the good ones of the era are, but I naturally distrust the consensus. It's a burden.

After watching The Awful Truth, I feel a much stronger desire to watch more screwball comedies of the era, particularly those starring Carey Grant. If you've seen a Carey Grant comedy, you know why. The man is a gifted comedic performer with wonderfully understated physical gestures and facial muggings that can accentuate an already delightful script (and no doubt save a film with a less than punchy one).

The premise here finds Jerry Warriner (Grant) coming home from a trip away to an empty house, only to have guests arrive with no hostess. When Lucy (Irene Dunne) finally shows up, she's escorted by a swarthy Frenchman who proclaims to be her voice coach. They were waylaid overnight by car issues. The suspicion is immediate, Jerry doesn't trust a word his wife or this Frenchman say, but it's probably because he knows he's been lying himself, having told his wife he went to Florida but brought home a basket of California oranges. The distrust in the marriage going both ways leads to a big blow-up and divorce court (with custody of their beloved mutt Mr. Smith a heated part of the battle).

They have to have a 60 day trial separation before the divorce is finalized. Lucy moves in with her aunt who introduced her to the neighbour, an Oklahoma oilman named Dan with a slow drawl and dim sense of humour. Dan falls in love with Lucy instantly, and Lucy mainly plays along knowing it will drive Jerry crazy, which it does, but Jerry's sabotage leads Lucy to realize she still loves him and the short engagement is called off, but Jerry is likewise moving on.

A short time later, Jerry is seen with a debutante and Lucy is envious. With only days to go before their divorce is final, Lucy insinuates herself in Jerry's life, and interferes in his budding relationship by posing as his sister.

Things explode, they reset, they explode again, and eventually after a few of these cycles, there's the expected resolution of Jerry and Lucy rekindling their partnership, and it's a pretty delightful ride, if a wonky and lopsided one.

To start, Lucy's suspected infidelity is paid a disproportionate amount of attention compared to Jerry's, which is brought up in the opening moments of the film, and really, never again. The first act of the film introduces the couple, breaks them up and establishes their not-so-bitter trial bitter divorce. The second act is all about Lucy's relationship with Dan, Jerry's interference, and bringing back the French vocal coach (to an incredibly funny denouement). The third act then has to wrestle with Jerry's new love interest, Lucy getting in the way and then contriving a scenario that will pull Lucy and Jerry together again.

It's this final act that needs more breathing room and doesn't fully work. Lucy's "drunk sister" routine is incredible (Dunne is every bit as gifted as Grant is comedically, and maybe even more) but following that sequence, it's a pretty contrived situation that leads to some unusually quiet romantic tension and just the itsiest bit of bedroom smouldering that calls for some sexiness from the leads but (given the times) isn't allowed to get there.

By and large, though, The Awful Truth is a romp, a bustling good time with a scene-stealing dog and hilarious dialgoue and delightful characters. I do need to see more of these from the era.

3 Short Paragraphs (Or Not): The Wrath of Becky

2023,  Matt Angel, Suzanne Coote (The Open House) -- Netflix

This sequel to Becky is expecting a third, a conclusion to the trilogy, as we will finally get to find out what that fucking neo-nazi white supremacist key was all about. But unless someone with some indie movie money to burn makes it, I doubt we will see said conclusion. Like its predecessor, this is a very small budget, almost bottle-episode movie, a "small" movie as I am wont to say. Maybe even more so than the first.

Now 16, Becky (Lulu Wilson, The Haunting of Hill House) is not adjusting well to the foster system and finds herself on the road, with Diego, working a shitty diner while living with a nice old lady named Elena, who respects Becky's boundaries. Three "Noble Men", or white supremacist men's rights incel shitbags as I like to call them, eat at her diner, are typically misogynist towards her, and she responds in kind -- she dumps a hot coffee into the lap of one. Afterwards they follow her home, beat Becky & Diego unconscious and kill Elena. Fucking harsh opening act, but that is the point of these movies. Dads and dog were killed in the first one, her only trusted adult is killed in this one, which incurs the wrath.

Much of this movie, beyond the expected brutal violence, is the mockery of white supremacy and fragile male ego movements. The movie continuously reminds us how these men, even the capable ones, are all making up for inadequacies of one kind or another. In today's climate, where these kinds of men are being validated left, right and centre (puns intended), it is nice to see a movie unabashed in its opinions of that group. Even the "sympathetic antagonist" is a shitbag.

As for the violence, Becky is growing up. She was an avatar for teens "acting out their anger" in the first movie, but this one is more about her coming into her own as an unrepentant killer. That has its own commentary attached to it, and she is no longer the "the trauma caused her to do it" little kid; she's exchanging her childhood knitted fox stocking cap for a geared-up slayer outfit. And then the movie just jumps its own shark by .... well, having her recruited by the CIA. Well, if John Wick can start with a movie about an ex-assassin becoming a mythical agent in a alt-world-wide society, then why not Becky.

1-1-1: The Bear Season 4

 Season 3 | 2 | 1
created by Christopher Storer

The What 100: The Tribune review is in, and it neither made The Bear, nor broke it, but left it to fend for itself. Uncles Jimmy and Computer put a countdown clock in the kitchen for when the money runs out which hangs over everyone's head (even though it's on the counter).  Carmy realizes that he is his own worst enemy and that his past trauma and trauma avoidance has maybe been sabotaging not just the restaurant but his own life. Sidney wrestles with her decision to stay or go. Ritchie's anxiety reaches its spillover point as his ex's wedding approaches. Tina struggles with insecurity in the kitchen, Ebraheim gets a mentor, while Marcus levels up and also avoids his dad. You could almost forget Sugar had a baby.

(1 Great) Episode 9: "Tonnato". Ever since Season 2's "Fishes" Donna "DD" Berzatto (Jamie Lee Curtis) has been the livest wire in a show of livewires. She supercharged with electricity and she flails around ready to strike, and you're never sure what kind of shock she's going to deliver. In season 3 it was DD showing up for Sugar at the hospital, being a real mom, and helping her daughter through a difficult time with almost no selfishness at all. In Season 4, DD is in a better place. We see that she's helping Uncle Jimmy sell his home, we hear from "Uncle" Lee that she's going to therapy and she's quit drinking, we see her take herself out of an equation as much because she can't handle it as she knows others can't handle her presence. In Episode 9, Carm is encouraged by Sugar and Sid (and even Claire) to personally bring her the photo albums she wants, and he reluctantly does. When she asks him to stay, he does, and she takes him through some old photos, giving him new perspective on his family. Then DD reads Carm a letter that is full of her regrets, acknowledgement of the pain she caused, awareness of her destructive behaviour, awareness of the distance she has put between her and her children, and honesty about how gutted she still is by Mikey's passing. The show started around Carm coming back to Chicago because of Mikey's suicide, and in season 2 and 3 it was maybe just a spectre that hovered over the show, but this season deals with it head on, as Carm deals with it head on, which gives us even more perspective that he wasn't the only one to lose somebody. The bridge Carm forgets with DD here is very powerful, and Jamie Lee Curtis is for sure getting her second Outstanding Guest Actress Emmy for this, as she did for "Fishes". She absolutely destroys this scene reading her note to Carm, and Jeremy Allen White's reaction is equally powerful (no surprises if he gets an Emmy win either). 

(1 Good) Episode 7: "Bears". It's Tiff's wedding, the day Ritchie has been dreading for months. Ritchie still seems to be best friends with Tiff, and he wants to hate Frank (Josh Hartnett) but he is really such a good guy. Ritchie and Frank have to come together to help Eva, Ritchie's daughter, as she's hiding under a table and won't come out. Meanwhile Carm shows up and verges on a panic attack but has his entire life put into new perspective by, of all people "Uncle" Lee, who he vehemently dislikes. Sid (as Ritchie's plus one) meets Donna for the first time, and it's totally awkward, but in a nice way. The Fak's sister, Francie (Brie Larson) turns up and immediately gets into it with Sugar, as they had a falling out years ago, and have not seen each other since. There's other little moments between characters, and the set-up is that every one of them is entering the wedding like a grenade with the pin missing. The explosions can go off at any time. Thinking back to Season 2's "Fishes" in terms of family gatherings, it's like we know what to expect. And yet, for everyone here, for all the anxiety they're carrying, they're in a different place now, looking for a different path, more receptive to dialogue, to listening, and the fireworks never really explode. Much still is left unsaid, but everyone winds up under that table with Eva, Ritchie and Frank, expressing their greatest fear to help Eva get over hers. It's the season in a nutshell, changing behaviours, trying to be a better, more supportive person, because these people are family, some blood, some found, but they mean something to each other, and any barriers getting in the way are not insurmountable.

(1 Bad) There is nothing outright bad about season 4. It's not the perfection that was season 2 but it's a lot more propulsive and impactful than season 3, with so much more meaningful growth and interactions. The weakest part is Tina's story and Lisa Colon-Zayas' involvement in the season, which was pretty minimal compared to the past. Tina's entire story here consisted of her getting her pasta dish down to under 3 minutes. It would almost be a running gag if Colon-Zayas weren't so good at selling what the emotional stakes are for Tina, which continues the thread from previous seasons about wanting to feel like she has earned her spot in this kitchen and she belongs.  Marcus' story is similarly a bit under baked, as it's tantamount to him dodging his dad's phone calls and texts for 10 episodes, but they manage to incorporate L-Boy into this season much more and give him a few big wins as well as pair him up with a returning Luca (Will Poulter), a guest spot that makes me wonder if Poulter is going full cast next season. Nice to see Marcus' roommate Chester back as well. Definitely not bad is Ebraheim's sub-plot which finally gives that character more life and stake in the show (and the restaurant), after a season in which he all but disappeared. He has an incredible sub-plot with guest star Rob Reiner. For the most part the secondary cast is used well, so it's just a disappointment that Tina feels put on the sidelines.

META: I described Season 3 as its most assured, and yet also its weakest as it failed to resolve almost every storyline. Season 4, which picks up immediately as season 3 ends, might as well be season 3.5 as it wraps up pretty much every thread that was dangling, and picks up more that, by its end, also feels like they've come to very satisfying conclusions. 

The journey this season was so much more dynamic and more than any other season I felt pulled through it, rather than pushing myself through it. It's kind of the Ted Lasso effect of people gaining emotional intelligence and there being less drama, which doesn't mean less conflict, but rather more ability to work through it without plot contrivances or story cliches getting in the way. It's a season of evolution and where it leaves off is both beautifully ambiguous but also quite satiating. If the final episode, a remarkably well done bottle episode that pits our three leads in difficult conversation at the end of the clock's countdown, it's not that *everything* is resolved, but it ties up enough threads that it could act as a series finale should they wish it to. They don't, of course, as it's still an awards juggernaut, but it definitely would be a terrific finale.

And also, not for nothing, this season is kinda funny again.

3 Short Paragraphs (Or Not): Killers Anonymous

2019, Martin Owen (Twist) -- Amazon

This was a fascinating film, as a viewing experience. I gave it a thumbs-down on the "recommend" button in Amazon. And yet, I didn't dislike the experience enough to turn it off. I trudged through to the end, what there was of it. Rotten Tomatoes has it at a literal zero for Critic Reviews (all nine of them disliked it) and 18% for audience reviews. Letterboxd is a smattering of 1 and 1.5 stars. The review on the Roger Ebert site says the movie, "...is a bit like a Magic Eye painting: the more you scrutinize it, the less coherent it is.". By all weights and measures, this is a terrible movie. 

And yet I persevered.

Ugh, don't hit me for that one.

It begins, a man running a support group in LA gets a call and immediately heads to the UK, where he meets Jade (Jessica Alba, Sin City) in a pub. Jade looks like the terrible depiction of a super model dressed as a biker. And she has a story for the man, a not very well told Tarantino-ian anecdote that is supposed to explain why she screwed up a job, a job to kill an American Senator. She finishes the story, gets picked up by a trashy looking bar girl, who subsequently kills Jade with her own gun. End cameo.

We then cut to the main setup of the movie, a meeting of a group colourful characters in the basement of a church -- the meeting for "Killer's Anonymous", a rag tag group of psychopathic or at least sociopathic murderers who find solace together, and learn tools to keep their urges at bay. As one would expect of killers, none like the other very much.

The man (Gary Oldman, Slow Horses), the LA support group man, sits in a lawn chair nearby watching them enter the church, or emerge on its roof for a smoke break. The voyeur seems to flip from an alley way to a nearby rooftop, depending on which angle the movie wants him to have a vantage point from. Up, down, weird angle -- he never seems to actually move but... 

A lot of stylistic schtuff happens in this act. We get back stories for the killers, done in a spotlight and flashback motif where each character tells about their first kill and why they do what they do. Its weird because this is definitely not the first meeting, so wouldn't they have covered this all in previous meetings? Also, there is a general sense of distrust between them, which is understandable, because they are all killers after all, but added to that is a new member. No one knows who she is or how she learned of the group, but she appears to be normal. And American. Also, there is someone hiding in the vents observing them. And finally, for this act, one of the killers is the trashy bar girl who killed Jade, and the topic of Jade's failed assassination of an American Senator keeps on coming up, as it has the city (London) in a stir. A lot of "ooo, this is a cool plot" things going on.

In the basement are: MyAnna Buring (Ripper Street), Michael Socha (Being Human), Tim McInnerny (Notting Hill), Tommy Flanagan (Sons of Anarchy), and a few others. Too many.

Owen really wants to be doing a Tarantino movie, but its no longer 1998, so I am not sure that excuse is valid anymore. The movie is scatter brained, all over the place, not in tone or style, but it what it seems to want the plot to be directing you towards. I am not convinced they knew where the plot was headed and envisioned the creator, not some Purple Suit to be blamed this time, jumping up every ten minutes of shooting with a new "Ohhh, you know what would be cool? Say this !" In the end, we just have a convoluted mess with no satisfactory conclusion to anything. There are some middling decent performances (Jessica Alba's cameo is not one of them) from familiar face character actors just being the character actor they are, and the stylistic choices are at least visually pleasing, but.... it hurt my brain to pay attention. Good thing I had my phone nearby.

I am thinking that being annoyed at a movie is what you want these days, like so much else in your life....

KWIF: A Minecraft Movie (+4)

 KWIF=Kent's Week In Film.  I thought being away from home for the better part of a week with pretty much nothing but time on my hands would mean I would be watching a ton of films, but, turns out, not so much. In fact the first two films on the list below I watched before I left for my trip. But then, upon my retrun, I did a rare triple stint at the theatre in one day because I wasn't ready to return to the usual day-to-day yet.

This Week:
A Minecraft Movie (2025, d. Jared Hess - crave)
Warfare (2025, d. Ray Mendoza, Alex Garland - amazonprime)
The Phoenician Scheme (2025, Wes Anderson - in theatre)
The Life of Chuck (2025, Mike Flanagan - in theatre)
Daniela Forever (2024, Nacho Vigalondo - in theatre)
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I really had no intention of ever seeing A Minecraft Movie. Trailers made it look like a CGI nightmare with overblown performances, and the unofficial "rowdy" screenings of TikTok kids memeifying "S
TEVE!" and "CHICKEN JOCKEY!" certainly wasn't any further enticement.  But a funny thing happened on the way to avoiding the theatre... not only was A Minecraft Movie an absolute monster of a blockbuster motion picture, but some critics who I trust...well, by all that is squarely, they enjoyed it.

Both my kids (now a teen and an adult) played Minecraft and were avid fans. Neither wanted to see the movie.(because they're now a teen and an adult), which, really, wasn't all that surprising. Maybe it was a little disappointing as it's hard to find common ground and experiences with these ones these days. But as I do, I forged onward on my own and...waited for it to hit some streaming platform that I was already subscribed to and then proceed to watch the dang thing over 8 days in at least 4 different sittings.

The opening 20 minutes of A Minecraft Movie (well, once they get past the detail-stuffed intro, anyway), I genuinely adored. Jared Hess, creator of the wonky worlds of Napoleon Dynamite and Nacho Libre was at it again, creating a kooky near-reality that's just a notch or two askew from our own world. I liked the introduction to former video-game prodigy now nostalgia marketer Garrett Garrison (Jason Momoa) and orphans Natalie (Emma Myers) and Henry (Sebastian Eugene Hansen) who are new to town.  The vibe of this part of the movie reminded me of early Taika Waititi, especially Eagle vs. Shark, which is no great surprise given that the film was primarily shot in New Zealand. New Zealander and Hess regular Jemaine Clement puts in a delicious cameo as a storage locker owner who wants nothing more than to be besties with an oblivious Garrett.

Garrett decides to take outcast Henry on as mentor, and his efforts to teach him, well, anything of use are pretty hilarious. Momoa has a specific persona he usually channels, but this is decidedly not that. Instead he seems to be calling upon Patrick Warburton's Puddy from Seinfeld mixed with Jack Burton from Big Trouble In Little China.  Whatever his inspiration, it just may be Momoa's finest comedic performance.

It's all so unfortunate then that going into the Minecraft world, encountering Steve (Jack Black), and facing off against the pig-things that are trying to take over that reality. The film basically forgets about making any of the character arcs meaningful in any way, and just goes about having a goofy time in this strange blocky world. It wavers wildly between amusing and dull and stupid-in-a-good-way and stupid-in-a-bad-way. I love Jack Black, but the script gives Steve nothing for him to hang a character off of, so he's basically just Jack Black's stage persona. (I also find it funny that "Steve" is the player character of classic Minecraft, a real blocky dude, and they hire one of cinema's most notoriously round performers to play him).

I have to admit I loved Rachel House's voice work for Malgosha, the head pig in charge. The character design for Malgosha was also pretty incredible as I was constantly questioning whether it was a practical costume, or completely digital, or a combination.  I also thought the same of the "Nitwit" villager (mind-blowingly portrayed by Oscar winner Bret McKenzie and voiced by Matt Berry) who escapes into the "real" world and is, literally, picked up by Jennifer Coolige's lonely divorcee. Those Nitwit sequences are so ridiculous, but Coolige sells the lunacy of it so well.

In a 100 minute movie, I would say that maybe 40% of it (maybe even 50%) was pretty entertaining, and at one point, early on, I was wondering if we had maybe another Lego Movie on our hands... it's not even close to being as good as The Lego Movie. That it's even as good as it is is still kind of a minor miracle. I mean...what else could a live-action Minecraft movie look like? I certainly can't think of anything much better, but I can think of far, far worse.

[Toastypost - we disagree, and yet, also agree]

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Warfare kind of snuck into theatres unannounced, and left just as quietly, and hit AmazonPrime with about the same amount of fanfare. Recalling the war in Iraq, and specifically the American side of that war, in this year of 2025, was something most people weren't at all interested in partaking in. I should have known coming from Alex Garland that it wouldn't be "rah rah 'merica", and even still it was only with the most hesitant of clicks that I pressed play.

Warfare proved quickly to be an intense military procedural/fight for survival starring a rich swath of fantastic actors pulled straight from some of the best TV shows of the decade so far. You've got Reservation Dogs' D'Pharoah Woon-A-Tai, Shogun's Cosmo Jarvis, Joseph Quinn from Stranger Things, Daredevil: Born Again's Michael Gandolfini, Kent household favourite Noah Centineo, Finn Bennett from Season 4 of True Detective and more. It's a really impressive cast that really didn't need to be this impressive for what its acting its performers to do, but still, I'm impressed.

The real challenge here was to make a picture about the misbegotten war in Iraq that doesn't glorify it or its participants, while also not outright villifying them either, and it succeeds surprisingly well.  It is a compelling and nerve-shredding film that shows in excruciating detail the horror and intensity and violence and consequences of warfare, especially in residential sector. Still, telling the story from an American vantage point remains is the film's biggest barrier to entry in the current political climate. But the film is based on the true recollections of some of the soldiers involved in the incident, including co-director/co-writer Ray Mendoza, who Woon-A-Tai plays in the film (Mendoza happened to be the military advisor on Garland's Civil War, which is how this project came about).

The most impactful part of this movie is one word... "Why?" To which the SEALs on screen, and the film itself have no answer. 

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Binary statements like "you either love Wes Anderson movies or you don't" have become increasingly annoying to me as they are completely incalculable, devoid of any gray area, and well  fundamentally untrue. They are statements made by lazy writers (like myself, certainly) to try to simplify arguments to two simple sides.  It's like saying "you're either liberal or you're conservative" and that takes out all the nuance of life and thought and opinion.

That said, everything within me really wants to argue that people who know Wes Anderson's work either love it unconditionally or don't understand it, but such a statement just cuts out the majority of the potential film-going audience by really only referring to the minority of people who pay any attention to filmmakers and the work they do.  That statement also presupposes that no matter the quality or content of an Anderson film, that one side of the coin is predisposed to loving said film, while the other will hate it or just avoid it altogether.

Even as I know this argument to be false -- since I really disliked Moonrise Kingdom and Rushmore does nothing for me so I know there are shades of grey in Anderson's fandom -- I still want to proclaim that if you're an Anderson fan you obviously have to love The Phoenician Scheme, and if you don't like Anderson's work, why would you even waste your time with it at this point.

I stepped into The Phoenician Scheme ready to love it by nature of just being a Wes Anderson movie. I was placing myself into the love side of the "you either love Wes Anderson movies or you don't" binary fallacy, convinced that, no matter what I would come out of the picture feeling enriched and delighted.

Turns out, not so much. If you were to ask me, right now, The Phoenician Scheme sits above Moorise and Rushmore and maybe even Isle of Dogs and Bottle Rocket, but it's definitely in the bottom half of ranking Anderson's oeuvre for me. 

The reason is largely because I had a hard time following the movie, which is not something I generally have difficulty with. I mean, I understood Tenet without even having to think about it that hard. But The Phoenician Scheme is absolutely loaded with Anderson's rapid-fire expressionless patter that moves so quickly and is so information dense that it's hard to extract, at least upon first viewing, what is important about what is being said. There's no doubt that all of it is completely sensible to Anderson, but in the conveying to the audience it is bound to overwhelm.

As well, the titular scheme upon which the film revolves around, well, I never quite got it. It's the reason that problematic industrialist Zsa-Zsa Korda and his daughter (or is she) and heir (on a trial basis) Leisl (Mia Threapleton) make the adventurous journey they do, making five stops to different investors in the scheme to try to convince them to cover the gap made after a consortium of governments raise the price of rivets to negatively impact and possibly scuttle the scheme. Zsa-Zsa, it turns out, is not really a good guy, and Leisl, a convent-raised nun-to-be, seems well aware of his reputation.

The journey, then, isn't so much about the scheme but about a father and daughter connecting, bridging the gap between cold-hearted capitalist and possible murderer, and a selflessly altruistic pacifist. The thing is, though, the scheme eats up so much screen time and dominates the balance of the film that the familial engagement seems secondary. But when the film ends, its coda makes it pretty explicit that it was about Zsa-Zsa becoming a father and finding joy in life as opposed to riches. It's an anti-capitalistic tale, I suppose, but definitely an unfocussed one.

The performances are all great. Anderson's very specific way of writing his character and directing may seem limiting at first blush, but it frees them to do some very, very silly work with the sternest of poker faces. Michael Cera is the obvious highlight, and to say why would be spoiler-y, but you will know it to see it. It's amazing he's not been part of Anderson's cabal of performers before this, but he's a natural fit. A lot of Anderson's newer stable of regular performers like Jeffrey Wright, Tom Hanks, Bryan Cranston, Scarlett Johansson, Mathieu Almaric, Richard Ayoade, Benedict Cumberbatch and Rupert Friend all have smaller but delightful parts to play in this, and longer-term Anderson regulars like Bill Murray and Willem Dafoe have basically glorified cameos. It's actually a great thing that Anderson branches out on a regular basis and doesn't rely upon the same stable time and again, as accusations of "sameness" would be further emboldened.

If ever you wondered what a Wes Anderson action-thriller would look like, well, it looks like this...a Wes Anderson movies. Alexandre Desplat's score is full of ominous and foreboding notes on either end of the piano that feels like it was ripped out a Hitchcock thriller or an British espionage tale of yore. The score both affirms the subgenres Anderson is referencing, but it's also a comedic juxtaposition to the arch tone that prevails through most of Anderson's films. It's a great score.

It's not an entirely successful movie, but if you're an Anderson fan you will enjoy it far more than if you are not.

---

If I see a movie weeks after it has released (sometimes even days after) it's hard for me not to write my reviews completely shaped around the critical commentary I've read/heard, or the reactionary headlines or Letterboxd hot takes. I'm steeped in film commentary in my podcast routine and my socials, less than some but more than your average person is, for sure. So I know that The Life of Chuck has been a pretty divisive movie. A lot of the reaction has been very positive towards it, praising it for being a rewarding, enriching, life-affirming experience, while a large amount of critical reaction has tossed it as cloying and overly sentimental.

Either way, these are not criticisms you typically hear about something adapted from a Steven King story. Nor are they really descriptions you would find for a typical Mike Flanagan project.

And yet The Life of Chuck does have aspirations to being a somewhat sentimental and life-affirming experience, despite its opening act (labelled as "Act Three") that basically presents the end of the world from the perspective of the characters in a mid-sized mid-American city and through the eyes of teacher Chiwetel Eijiofor and nurse Karen Gillan. The internet has stopped working, California has fallen into the sea, the food-producing areas of the world are being devastated by floods or fires or drought, it's all coming to an end much faster than anyone expected. It's heavy and it sucks, and people are trying to go about their daily lives, but what does any of it really matter? And yet, perplexingly, billboards, radio ads, TV ads start popping up "Charles Krantz: 39 Great Years! Thanks, Chuck!" What does it mean, as the stars blink out of existence?  It's intriguing and perplexing.

The second act steps back with narration from Nick Offerman providing colour and detail on the characters we see on screen. Taylor (Taylor Gordon) a Julliard drop-out sets up her drum kit on a Saturday, ready to perform for the day, yet after 40 minutes not quite feeling it. Meanwhile accountant Charles Krantz (Tom Hiddleston) is on break from an accounting conference and feeling a bit dispirited. And Janice (Annalise Basso) just receives a break-up text from her boyfriend who she didn't really even like that much and she storms through the town's promenade. As Chuck approaches Taylor, she starts to match his pace with her drumming. It catches Chuck's attention and draws him near. It eventually breaks into dance, and Chuck's exceptional dancing fires up Janice who joins him and they tear the street up with Taylor's amazing rhythm. It's a simple moment of people needing joy and spreading joy and it leads to a moment of connection. What you extrapolate from that is probably very individualistic, but after the end of the world, to step into something so expressive as rhythm and dance, it's genuinely moving, unless you are at your utmost cynical.

The third act steps back even further in Chuck's life. A lot happens in this "Act 1" to bridge what we've seen and been told in the previous two acts, but we witness Chuck as a child (Benjamin Pajak), his life married with trajedy, learning to love dance with his Bubbe (Mia Sara), and then take it up as an extracurricular at school and become exceptional at it. The segment centers a lot around his grandparent's house and specifically the cupola which is locked and ruled off-limits by his Zadie (Mark Hamill). Zadie tells him, one night when he's deep in his cups, that there are ghosts in that room, ghost of the past and future. It's only years later after Zadie's passing that teen Chuck (Jacob Tremblay) learns what he means. But the lesson, presented to him by a bohemian teacher, and the crux of the film, is that life should be lived to its fullest, that we can be wonderful, that we deserve to be wonderful, and we contain multitudes. It's a mantra that, we see from act 2, is hard to keep in mind as life and career and family and the world weigh on us, but if we remember, we can experience something, shape something, build something at the very least inside of us, if not outside as well.

As a production the author's voice is much more Flanagan than King's, but the story got the horror maestro's fingerprints all over it. Flanagan has adapted King enough times, and his work is so King influenced in general, that sometimes it hard to separate the two, but Flanagan's voice is unique and shows up prominently in the execution. His penchant for long monologues and his emotional connection to his characters are much more a part of his storytelling than King's as evident here.

Is it sentimental? I suppose it is, but I didn't find it overbearingly so. Is it saccharine? Not at all, nor is it cloying or preachy. But I get why it is divisive. It's a film that presents an end of the world scenario in a time where things are as challenging and bleak on a global scale as they have been since world wars were happening. It's all so overwhelming and dire, that a film like this, a movie that dares to say in the face of all of that, at this time, that there's still something about living life on this planet that is truly wonderful...I get how hard that is to accept.

And yet, the notion itself is lovely, even if I am challenged myself to accept it. I'm glad it exists, I'm glad that King and Flanagan have put it out into the world, that is is seeded there to make even one person's life a little better. I liked this movie. I was moved by it.

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The most prominent works of director Nacho Vigalondo are Colossal [a film covered by both David and myself on this blog] and Timecrimes, a film I have seen and written about but in the world before this blog.  The former was a high concept drama that connected the troubled life of an American woman with Kaiju attacks in South Korea. Timecrimes was a twisty Spanish thriller about a series of unfortunate events that collapse in on themselves as time travel gets involved. In both cases, they are rather high concept stories, the former much more of a dramatic production and character study, while the latter was perhaps more playful and energetic.

I don't know that I loved either film, as neither sits fondly in my memory, and yet, I think I genuinely respect Vigalondo's approach to genre. Maybe his execution falters, but conceptually, there's definitely a lot of meat on the bones and he clearly isn't interested in repeating what already exists.

His latest film, Daniela Forever, is more akin to Colossal than Timecrimes. It is a high concept sci-fi story rooted in character drama, executed with a lower-budget, but never lacking for ambition. Here Henry Golding plays Nicolas, a British DJ living in Madrid who has recently lost his girlfriend, Daniela (Beatrice Grannò) after she was hit by vehicle. A year has passed since she died but he is still deep in grief and depression. He is recommended by a friend to an experimental drug trial which is designed to engage the user in a new form of Lucid Dreaming. Nicolas doesn't follow the treatment plan and the dream cues provided to him, instead he learns he can build a world in his mind, one where Daniela still exists.

But the deeper into his trial regimen he goes, the more time he spends with this construct of Daniela in this construct of Madrid, the more it starts to escape his control.

Unlike The Life of Chuck, I went into Daniela Forever totally cold, having not even seen the trailer nor read or heard a single review. It's a rare experience where a film has every opportunity to surprise me, and it never truly did. It never lost my interest, but I also never felt it pushed itself or its concept like I wanted it to. At its root, Nicolas is lost before the story even starts, there's no hope for a positive outcome for him. I've seen too much Black Mirror for this to go well. And that is this film's biggest challenge... distancing itself from Black Mirror. 

We've seen enough stories of loss and grief and reviving loved ones through technology in Black Mirror, this story does the same but through chemicals. So there's a familiarity to the story and a sense that we know where it is going, even though we shouldn't, even though it should really be a story that exists in a constant state of revelation.  I couldn't help but find it a little predictable.

What Vigalondo does to distance itself from Black Mirror is all in style. The director makes the choice to film the "real world" sequences using (I don't know the technical specs here), like, 1970's TV cameras. They are presented in a 4:3 ratio, staged and composed like soap operas, and every second the format was used I was questioning why. It looks, flat out, terrible. It's a terrible aesthetic. When it was the only TV aesthetic we had, we were conditioned to it, but in this high-def 4K world we live in, it's so hard to look at. I found it highly distracting and unpleasant. The dream-state however looks gorgeous, Madrid looks lovely, even the areas that Nicolas has never seen that are "greyboxed", like TV static.

Golding has to do all the heavy lifting here as our central character and he really succeeds at times, yet goes a step or two beyond what's necessary in some scenes. It's hard to tell whether those are a result of directing, script or performance, but there's times where there seems to be a lack of control. Grannò has the harder task of performing a character who is a construct, easily manipulated by the man whose mind she exists in (there is a darker edge to this story that it never actually reckons with). 

The film end (or attempts to end) on a high note, but it comes at the expense of ambiguity and obfuscation that I believe the director wants to leave the audience with something to think about but I don't think provides the right keys to unlock it. 

As much as I sound frustrated with it, I did like it more than Colossal, in part because even the weird stylistic factors engaged me. I wish it were more twisty and fun like Timecrimes (a movie I really need to watch again) and I wish I could trust that the director really knew everything that was going on in his story. At the same time I appreciate Vigalondo's desire to create a sci-fi story that is small but feels ambitious. I applaud the effort if not all of the results.