Monthly Archives: November 2021

Reel Views, Review

House Of Gucci

At 83 years old, director Ridley Scott will take a crack at just about any story. He’s headed up classics in the horror, sci-fi and war genres, fine-tuning a chameleonic approach that has kept him sharp throughout his storied career. With his latest project, the glamorous but lugubrious House of Gucci, he finds his latest tale to tell at the intersection of high crime and high fashion. He’s tackled true crime stories before, most recently in 2017’s All the Money in the World, but where that film generally plays it straight when recreating the kidnapping of John Paul Getty, Scott decided he wanted to dial up the camp considerably this time around. It’s not a bad call, given the talented cast that he’s assembled, but when you take that element away from the film, you’re left with a flimsy story that’s not juicy enough to justify this big-screen retelling.

We’re introduced to Patrizia Reggiani (Lady Gaga) as she struts past cat-callers to the managing office of her father’s modest trucking company. She’s no stranger to using her lavish looks to get what she wants, allowing her to fast-track a meet-cute with fashion heir Maurizio Gucci (Adam Driver) into a swift marriage and pregnancy. Maurizio’s father Rodolfo (Jeremy Irons) expresses his suspicions of Patrizia early and often, while Rodolfo’s brother Aldo (Al Pacino) seems to favor Patrizia over his maladroit son Paolo (Jared Leto). Shake-ups in Rodolfo’s health lead to Maurizio inheriting 50% stake in his family’s prestigious brand, a shift that causes Maurizio to become more invested in the business than in his marriage.

Shot with the same steel-tinted remove as All the Money in the World, House of Gucci is the second film Scott has released this season that doesn’t exactly invite viewers into its potentially entrancing setting. Certainly the production design and the costume design are as stellar as one would expect — Gaga’s opulent outfits alone may be worth the price of admission for some — but there’s a repeated color palette here that I wish Scott would sidestep next time. He doesn’t exactly reinvent the wheel from the aural perspective either, tapping overplayed late-era disco hits like “Heart of Glass” and “I Feel Love” to remind us that we’re in early 1980s New York and things are moving fast. The opera cuts are even more predictable; there’s literally a scene where Patrizia and Paolo dance to “La donna è mobile” from Verdi’s Rigoletto (trust me, you’d recognize it) in an oversized kitchen.

Scott and his performers can’t quite decide how seriously we should be taking the pile of Italian cliches that stack up like knockoff handbags in an ignored bedroom closet. When characters don’t have an espresso cup pressed up against their lips, they’re speaking in a wide range of dialects that can best be categorized as “scattershot spaghetti”. Jeremy Irons barely abandons his native English accent, while Jared Leto runs with a phonology that would be considered borderline offensive even in a Super Mario Bros. animated show. Gaga not only gives the film’s best performance but also offers an accent that veers into Natasha Fatale territory at Patrizia’s most sinister moments but is otherwise the most measured vocal work in the movie.

Bursting onto the Hollywood scene with an Oscar-nominated role in A Star Is Born, Gaga proves once again that she has the chops to dominate the music and film industries simultaneously. As the original “Black Widow”, she balances femme fatale proclivities with a woman doing her best to find her way in the world. It’s a juicy role and it’s no surprise fashionista Gaga would jump at the chance to play someone tied into Gucci’s legacy but Scott and his screenwriters Becky Johnston and Roberto Bentivegna don’t seem to have the same gusto in their assignments. The events that lead to the tragedy of Maurizio and Patrizia play out with too little personal perspective on the corresponding real-life events. Like Disney’s Cruella from earlier this year, House of Gucci has plenty of window dressing but not enough in the store to back it up.

Score – 2.5/5

New movies coming this weekend:
Premiering on Netflix is The Power of the Dog, a Western starring Benedict Cumberbatch and Kirsten Dunst about a charismatic rancher whose world is turned upside down when his brother brings home his new wife and her son.
Streaming on Disney+ is Diary of a Wimpy Kid, an animated comedy starring Brady Noon and Chris Diamantopoulos about a beleaguered middle schooler who chronicles his hormonal hardships in the pages of his trusty journal.
Playing at Cinema Center is I Carry You With Me, a Spanish-language drama starring Armando Espitia and Christian Vázquez about a decades-long romance that begins in Mexico between an aspiring chef and a teacher.

Reprinted by permission of Whatzup

Reel Views, Review

Belfast

Irish writer/director Kenneth Branagh brings the memories of his childhood to the big screen with Belfast, a slight but sweet slice-of-life story with winsome performances that make up for the often too-tidy screenplay. Branagh has directed 18 movies to date, from multiple Shakespeare adaptations to more corporate fare like Cinderella and Artemis Fowl, but this certainly feels like his most deeply-felt film thus far. It captures the joys and fears of an era that Americans may not know as nearly as well as their European counterparts but will likely leave the theater eager to learn more about this turbulent time in history. The movie isn’t unlike a cold pint of Guinness after a hard day at work, in that it’s a nice break from reality that’s familiar and goes down easy.

The film is told from the perspective of Buddy (Jude Hill), a young boy living in Belfast with his mother (Caitríona Balfe) and father (Jamie Dornan) when The Troubles begin. Marked by years of street-level violence between Protestants and Catholics throughout Ireland, it was a time of conflict and unrest that understandably caused many to flee the country for greener pastures. But Buddy’s family, including his grandmother (Judi Dench) and grandfather (Ciarán Hinds), has unresolved debts that preclude their ability to just up and leave the only street that they’ve known. We see the struggles of Buddy’s family and friends through his eyes as he makes the most of his childhood, doing his best in school and trying to keep out of trouble on the streets.

Bookended by present-day shots taken around the titular town, Belfast is primarily presented in handsome black-and-white courtesy of cinematographer and frequent Branagh collaborator Haris Zambarloukos. It’s a bit ironic, then, that Branagh seems to recall these events with rose-colored glasses. The opening scene escalates from neighbors doffing caps and hollering pleasantries to an angry mob storming down the street in the span of one continuous 360 degree shot. It’s like an opening number from a musical desperate to introduce the setting and raise the stakes by the time the last note is sung but in a drama like this, such a scene strains credulity. Worse yet is a crucial moment that occurs during what should be the film’s climax, which suffers from downright poor editing that undercuts the dramatic tension of the sequence.

Thankfully, Belfast finds most of its power simply in the hushed discussions overheard between family members who care deeply for one another. Most of the performers are shot in close-up, especially when Buddy is talking with them, suggesting the full panoramic view that adults take up in a child’s field of vision. Sometimes it’s imposing and sometimes it’s comforting, depending on the context of the conversation. Zambarloukos also shoots from lower angles, suggesting the perspective of a boy always looking up to his elders for guidance. A humorous early sequence, and something of a running joke throughout, involves a sweaty preacher firing off about two metaphorical paths of Heaven and Hell, while Buddy innocently wonders which of his actions correspond with which road.

This is Jude Hill’s first credited role and he does a fine job balancing Buddy’s hopes and hang-ups while fostering a cherubic nature that carries through to the easy nature of the film. Dornan, who was a riot earlier this year in Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar, brings an easy charm here and continues to find colorful roles following his drab stint as Christian Grey in the Fifty Shades series. Balfe is radiant as the maternal figure who not only looks after Buddy and his brother but is something of a guardian angel for all of the children on their street, while Dench and Hinds add notes of wit and wisdom as grandparents. Belfast is a bit too nostalgic and sentimental for its own good but wins the day with likable acting and heartfelt direction.

Score – 3/5

Also coming to theaters on Thanksgiving:
Encanto, a Disney animated musical starring Stephanie Beatriz and John Leguizamo, tells the story of a young Colombian girl who is the only member of her family without magical powers and may be the only one who can save the magic when it comes under threat.
House of Gucci, a crime biopic starring Lady Gaga and Adam Driver, depicts the events and aftermath of the 1995 murder of Maurizio Gucci, Italian businessman and head of the fashion house Gucci.
Resident Evil: Welcome to Raccoon City, a survival horror starring Kaya Scodelario and Hannah John-Kamen, follows a group of survivors as they make their way through a dying town with great evil brewing below the surface.

Reprinted by permission of Whatzup

Reel Views, Review

Red Notice

On their comedy companion channel Netflix Is A Joke, the streaming giant has a series called Written Entirely By Bots, comprised of animated shorts allegedly written by a computer program tasked with watching thousands of hours of a given genre of film. If they did one called The First Action-Adventure Film Written Entirely By Bots, I can’t imagine it would turn out much differently than Red Notice. Seemingly rendered to trigger a new wave of post-human cinema, the new would-be blockbuster doesn’t seem designed by committee as much as it seems designed by algorithm. Hypothetically, it was made to entertain humans but perhaps bots will be trained to watch it to juice up Netflix’s Nielsen numbers and trigger an inevitable franchise. We, the ticket-holders (subscription-holders, more aptly), are finally obsolete.

The story goes that thousands of years ago, Cleopatra received three egg-shaped jewels as gifts that were lost over time and scattered across the world. Cut to present day and their mystique still drives art thieves like Nolan Booth (Ryan Reynolds) to scoop them up and sell the reconvened trio to the highest bidder. After nearly catching Booth in the act of stealing the first egg from Rome, FBI agent John Hartley (Dwayne Johnson) stays hot on his trail as he travels to Spain, where the second egg is allegedly held by arms dealer Sotto Voce (Chris Diamantopoulos). We discover Booth isn’t the only one scooping up eggs, as a fellow burglar known as The Bishop (Gal Gadot) is also drawn to the bejeweled artifacts and threatens to discover the lost third egg before he does.

From the expository opening voiceover that literally sounds like it was deep-faked into existence to the obligatory sequel its ending portends, Red Notice is gallingly generic throughout its 118 minute runtime. It apes globe-trotting escapades like Indiana Jones and The Mummy but does so with a stunning lack of personality and originality. Everyone here is squarely within their wheelhouse: Johnson as the stoic straight man, Reynolds as the wise-cracking fool and Gadot as the statuesque mystery woman who knows how to kick a butt or two. I understand actors playing to their strengths but these three stars are so unwilling to move away from their comfort zones that it just comes across as lazy. Perhaps Gadot and company still believe they’re under quarantine singing “Imagine” in their mansions, locked down from venturing out into the world of creativity.

Credited writer/director Rawson Marshall Thurber hit it big in the past with comedies like DodgeBall and We’re the Millers but has transitioned to helming anonymous actioners since teaming with Johnson in 2018’s Skyscraper. Red Notice is a little too eager to please with its comedic notes but despite itself, it lands a few laughs along the way. Almost all the attempts come courtesy of Reynolds’ trademark quips, which are exhausting in their frequency but not without their occasional wins. His Booth asking a Russian prison cafeteria worker if the gruel he just served is farm-to-table is one such example that caught me off guard enough to chuckle. However, on the subject of food and drink, I can’t roll my eyes hard enough at the fact that Reynolds didn’t think we’d notice product placement for his own line of gin.

Just like the on-screen persona that Reynolds has crafted over the past twenty years, Red Notice is simply far too pleased with itself. It’s fueled by the same self-satisfied soullessness that has plagued blockbusters in the past but that Netflix is cynical enough to bet on this brand of entertainment for home viewing further demonstrates their commitment towards quantity over quality. Just this month, they’ve already released two other films — The Harder They Fall and Passing — that are well worth one’s time but won’t get half the views of this star-studded sham. With a title that sounds like an ominous warning that the crimson-hued “N” will soon take over all of Hollywood, Red Notice is less of a movie and more of a call to arms for creatives at risk of being outsourced by machines.

Score – 1.5/5

New movies coming this weekend:
Coming only to theaters is Ghostbusters: Afterlife, a supernatural comedy sequel starring Paul Rudd and Finn Wolfhard about a recently evicted family who moves to a farmhouse and experiences unexplained earthquakes that they suspect could be tied to the paranormal.
Playing in theaters and streaming on HBO Max is King Richard, a sports biopic starring Will Smith and Aunjanue Ellis about how tennis superstars Venus and Serena Williams became who they are after the coaching from their father Richard Williams.
Premiering on Netflix is Tick, Tick… Boom!, a musical starring Andrew Garfield and Alexandra Shipp about an aspiring theater composer endures a quarter-life crisis as he approaches 30 and does not feel close to his dream.

Reprinted by permission of Whatzup

Reel Views, Review

Finch

Leave it to America’s Dad to make the end of the world more palatable. Tom Hanks’ latest sci-fi vehicle Finch finds the star in the titular role as a robotics engineer who is one of the last remaining people on Earth after a solar flare decimated the ozone layer. He spends his days scavenging for resources and staving off loneliness with the help of his dog Goodyear and diminutive robot assistant Dewey. Finch knows he won’t be around forever, with the threat of dangerous UV radiation and extreme weather events looming large every day, so he works at night to create a more advanced humanoid automaton to care for Goodyear. After years of trial and error, the robot, who Finch decides to call Jeff (Caleb Landry Jones), becomes operational and joins the team for a trek to San Francisco.

Compared to survival sci-fi stories like The Martian and I Am Legend, the scale of Finch is reduced drastically but the stakes remain high due to Hanks’ initial affability and also due to the rest of his crew’s vulnerability. Dewey, resembling Johnny 5 from Short Circuit, roams around on his four wheels but is defenseless against any traps that survivors may have set in abandoned buildings. Goodyear, portrayed by real-life good boy Seamus in an all-timer of a pet performance, is well-behaved and intuitive but can still end up in the wrong place at the wrong time. The nascent Jeff is deceptively strong and possesses lightning-fast encyclopedic knowledge but lacks the rapport and shorthand that Finch’s other two companions have with him.

Besides the impressive feat of carrying a movie as the only on-screen human performer a la Cast Away, another aspect of Hanks’ performance that I admired was his willingness to show a more stern side of his ailing protagonist. After Jeff is “born”, director Miguel Sapochnik treats us to a zippy montage of Finch teaching him traits like how to walk and how to carry bags but the lessons aren’t always fun and games. Even moving the RV back a few feet so that Finch can avoid the 140 degree sun rays is critical and when Jeff fails to complete relatively simple tasks like that, Finch lets him know about it. Like any father, Finch is hard on Jeff because he wants him to be able to make it on his own and when Finch’s coughing fits become more frequent, we’re to understand how little time he may have left.

Jones, who was motion-captured on-set with Hanks but replaced immaculately with CGI, gives a terrific vocal performance that starts out sterile and mechanized but grows more cherubic and soulful as his relationship with Finch thaws. His body language goes through changes too, his militaristic rigidity and inelastic gait slowly melting into a more slumped body posture like Teenage Groot from Avengers: Infinity War. My favorite detail in Jones’ physical performance is his idle hand movements, fidgeting while trying to fill uncomfortable silence with Finch and fumbling when trying to build up his fine motor skills between pit stops. The replacement of Jones, who had to wear two-foot-tall stilts to make his interplay with Hanks more organic, with the computer-generated Jeff, is nothing short of state-of-the-art.

I don’t talk about movie dogs very often, as they’re typically not integral to the plot of a film and if present in a horror movie, they’re almost always the first to go. Last year’s The Call of the Wild made the choice to completely computer generate Buck instead of casting a real-life canine, which worked better than one might expect but still felt a bit uncanny. Given the amount of time Goodyear/Seamus interacts with an imposing human in a robot costume, he does an impressive job maintaining the illusion that Jeff is an actual robot. It’s part of a trio of unconventional performances that helps Finch overcome its conventional narrative to deliver a heartwarming post-apocalyptic tale.

Score – 3.5/5

New movies coming this weekend:
Playing in theaters and streaming on Paramount+ is Clifford the Big Red Dog, an adventure comedy starring David Alan Grier and Jack Whitehall about a young girl’s love for a tiny puppy that makes the dog grow to an enormous size.
Premiering on Netflix is Passing, a black-and-white drama starring Tessa Thompson and Ruth Negga about a pair of mixed-race childhood friends who reunite in adulthood and become increasingly involved with one another’s lives.
For their grand re-opening on Friday November 12th, Cinema Center is screening Archenemy, a superhero film starring Joe Manganiello and Skylan Brooks about a teenager who meets a mysterious man claiming he lost his superpowers after arriving from another dimension.

Reprinted by permission of Whatzup

Reel Views, Review

Last Night In Soho

Following up his music documentary The Sparks Brothers from earlier this year, director Edgar Wright continues to expand past his comedy roots with Last Night In Soho, a shoddy but stylish thriller that taps into the filmmaker’s affinity for pop cultural touchstones. Titled after the song by English beat band Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Tich, the film dives into the Swinging Sixties scene of south London through the lens of our current obsession with non-stop nostalgia and retrograde romanticism. Opening with its lead Thomasin McKenzie aping Audrey Hepburn and dancing around in an ornate dress like something Emma Stone would have worn in Cruella, it’s not until about ten minutes in, when her character is seen with Beats headphones, that we realize it takes place in the present day. As we soon find out, getting lost in the past has its price.

McKenzie plays Ellie Turner, an orphaned fashion designer who moves from the English countryside to the big city after she’s accepted into the London College of Fashion. Things don’t get off to a great start with her haughty roommate Jocasta (Synnøve Karlsen), leading Ellie to move off campus to an aged apartment run by the strict landlady Ms. Collins (Diana Rigg, in her last performance). On her first night there, she has an evocative dream which sends her back to mid-60s London, where she manifests as an aspiring singer named Sandie (Anya Taylor-Joy). Night after night, she is magically transported back to that time but as the dreams continue, she grows increasingly suspicious of Sandie’s manager Jack (Matt Smith). Back in the present day, the images from her vivid reveries pop up unexpectedly with troubling frequency.

Centered around an old soul longing to return to a seemingly better time, the first (and better) half of Last Night in Soho resembles the wistful Woody Allen fantasy Midnight In Paris, swapping protagonists from a stubborn screenwriter to an aspiring fashionista. The much messier second half plays like Mulholland Drive if it were directed by Roman Polanski, though it doesn’t live up to the potential of that amalgamation. What connects the two halves is a curiosity about history as it’s written vs. history as it was lived, peeling back the glossy glamour of a vaunted era to reveal a less wholesome underbelly. It’s a worthy theme, one that directors like David Lynch have explored previously with outstanding results, but Wright missteps in how he attempts to personify these “ghosts” of the past.

Building off a story he fleshed out with screenwriter Krysty Wilson-Cairns, Wright asks us to consider the connection that Ellie has with Sandie but the answer is disappointing and more than a bit puzzling. As more and more specters from Ellie’s dreams-turned-nightmares pop up, the screenplay spins its wheels with redundant story beats and obvious red herrings before inevitably pulling the curtain back. It also wastes the talents of newcomer Michael Ajao, an afterthought as a potential love interest for Ellie who seemingly has no life outside of being at her beck and call. In fact, the male characters are so poorly written in this film, it makes me wonder if Wright did so intentionally to help men understand how women may have felt with a lack of meaningful representation on-screen in decades past.

What the film lacks in clear-eyed storytelling, it more than makes up for with overwhelming style and alluring presentation. Shot by frequent Park Chan-wook collaborator Chung Chung-hoon, the sumptuous cinematography pushes past the familiar iconography and brings this lively era to life once again. Wright has always been a music-driven filmmaker and brings his eclectic taste to bear with a terrific collection of well-known oldies and overlooked gems. Tight editing, another hallmark of Wright’s films, contributes to the dreamlike quality of the throwback scenes, especially during a dance sequence that uses Texas Switches to alternate between McKenzie and Taylor-Joy. Wright is an inspired and inventive filmmaker but he’ll need a stronger script than the one for Last Night In Soho to get things right in the future.

Score – 3/5

New movies coming this weekend:
Playing only in theaters is Eternals, the newest entry in the Marvel Cinematic Universe starring Gemma Chan and Kumail Nanjiani about the titular immortal alien race as they reunite to protect humanity from their evil counterparts.
Streaming on Netflix is The Harder They Fall, a Western starring Jonathan Majors and Idris Elba about a notorious cowboy who reassembles his former gang to seek revenge against the man who murdered his parents.
Premiering on Apple TV+ is Finch, a post-apocalyptic sci-fi drama starring Tom Hanks and Caleb Landry Jones which follows the last man on Earth as he goes on a journey across the country with his personal android and his dog in company.

Reprinted by permission of Whatzup