Tag: movie reviews

65 Review

The title card for 65 doesn’t emerge onscreen until 16 minutes into the runtime. That’s actually about one-sixth of the way through and (I think) it’s meant to serve as a surprise reveal. The trailer already spoiled it because (umm… spoiler alert?) that number refers to 65 million years ago on Earth when so-so looking CG dinosaurs roamed freely. I suspect a lot more roamed freely, but this movie’s budget might not have supported Jurassic Park or World level sizes.

Mills (Adam Driver) is a pilot on the planet Somaris whose sick daughter (Chloe Coleman) causes him to take on a two-year expedition to pay for her treatment. When an asteroid field causes his ship to crash, he lands on a planet filled the aforementioned creatures. It turns out (as we find either via TV spots, trailers, or after 16 minutes) that this extinction level event is about to make the dinos disappear. Alien Mills has collided into our planet at an inopportune time. He discovers one survivor from the accident – a preteen who speaks a foreign language named Koa (Ariana Greenblatt). The duo must find the other half of the wreckage lying atop a mountain that contains an escape hatch.

It’s a long haul to that locale as their words are lost in translation and future relics hunt them down. They do manage to bond and, yes, there are correlations to his ill offspring. The script from directors Scott Beck and Bryan Woods (who’ve done much better when they penned A Quiet Place) injects some humor into their interplay for about two or three minutes. A tone of somberness rules this for the remaining hour and a half.

As they make their uphill climb to safety, I was disappointed in how flat 65 feels. The effects are mostly bland. Of course, technicians haven’t really improved dino design since Jurassic Park 30 years ago and this is no exception. There is some occasional striking production design. Driver is a fine actor with a nothing part and there’s little character development with Koa either. At its best, this is serviceable. For the most part, what is happening on Earth is unremarkable.

** (out of four)

Creed III Review

Michael B. Jordan and screenwriters Keenan Coogler and Zach Baylin are tasked with mounting a Rocky without Rocky in Creed III. We could feel a slight tectonic shift in the franchise when Donnie (Jordan) had more story on his plate than Sylvester Stallone in part II. This completes the movement and it’s a mostly competent entry that tops its predecessor while certainly not matching the 2015 original. It also proves Jordan, directing for the first time, is capable of admirable stylistic flourishes.

There’s some symmetry in how Creed III starts compared to Rocky III forty years before it. Adonis, like his former trainer, is living large and content. Unlike Mr. Balboa in his third go-round, Creed is retired and a happy hubby to music producer wife Bianca (Tessa Thompson) and girl dad to Amara (Mila Davis-Kent). We’re left to assume Rocky is also good to go and reunited with his son in Canada.

A prologue from 2002 informs us of Donnie’s childhood friend Damian Anderson. A Golden Gloves phenom with a bright ring future, the ropes close after a run-in the law. 20 years later, he’s out of prison with Jonathan Majors as the grown-up “Diamond Dame”. Reconnecting with Donnie, the true history of their friendship and fallout is shared slowly. We know it will culminate in a squared circle face-off.

Where Creed III shines is the casting of Majors and the continued potent work from Jordan. If Creed II‘s foe (Ivan Drago’s son from Rocky IV) felt gimmicky (and it basically did), the screenplay assists Dame’s character in having more dimension. It’s the intense performance from Majors that sells it. As an aside, Florian Munteanu pops up rather unnecessarily as Viktor Drago once again.

Some of the family drama involving Phylicia Rashad as Donnie’s beloved adoptive mom and her healthy problems and Bianca’s melodic issues are filler. The pace is a little off as it takes about 40 minutes to get warmed up and then feels rushed when we hit the third act.

In that last act, thankfully, Jordan’s skills behind the camera come into focus. The final bout looks and sounds different than what we’ve paid for in the eight previous pics when Rocky, Creed, and his dad (and Uncle Paulie and that robot) were sparring. The hype for Donnie and Dame pays off and that’s where the admission feels earned. So while this eighth round isn’t always smooth, it’s less rocky than some others in the series.

*** (out of four)

Scream VI Review

There’s more than one way to clean a knife after piercing a victim’s skin in the Scream flicks. The filmmakers appear determined to give this series nine lives or more as the sixth installment finds new terrorizers to fill the Ghostface mask. Let’s quickly go through the strange name game as 2022’s Scream was really Scream V. Termed as a requel, Urban Dictionary considers that a “sequel to a movie that functions somewhere between a sequel, a reboot, and a remake”. Unfortunately Scream (’22 version) didn’t function that well at all. With directors Matt Bettinelli and Tyler Gillett taking over directorial duties from the late Wes Craven, they showed lots of appreciation for the original from 1996. Like the other follow-ups, it couldn’t compare to the fresh satiric edge that part 1 had. In fact, despite a well-executed slashing or two, I’d rank it fifth of the lot.

Now I’d rank it sixth because Scream VI is a minor improvement. It picks up a year after the events of the fifth. We’re not in Woodsboro anymore as Sam Carpenter (Melissa Barrera), daughter of the OG Ghostface Billy Loomis, has relocated to the Big Apple. She’s there mostly to keep watch over little sister Tara (Jenna Ortega), now a college freshman along with sister and brother Mindy (Jasmin Savoy Brown) and Chad (Mason Gooding). They call themselves the Core 4 since they managed to survive the havoc wreaked by Sam’s ex-bf Richie in the last go-round.

The dwindling legacy characters returning are Gail Weathers (Courtney Cox), the reporter who’s always looking for a way to make a buck from the mayhem. There’s also Kirby Reed (Hayden Panettiere), who played an integral role in Scream 4. She was the best friend to the eventual Ghostface in that one. And while part four was one of the better sequels, I would understand if you forgot her character. Now Kirby is an FBI agent who shows up to help (which obviously makes her a quick suspect). I wonder if her appearance might be due to Sidney (Neve Campbell) not being present. Word is they didn’t want to show her the money to appear.

While the predecessor often paid homage to Scream ’96 (released the same month when Mason Gooding’s dad Cuba was screaming “Show me the money!” to Tom Cruise in Jerry Maguire), this has its winks to Scream 2 from 1997 by being set in the higher ed world. Some of the brutal sequences are well-constructed. The opening with Samara Weaving as a college professor on a blind date is a clever way to start.

Part of the fun in the Scream pics is figuring out the slayers and it’s usually more than one. There’s a few to consider with Sam’s neighbor and secret lover (Josh Segarra), the detective father (Dermot Mulroney) of her roommate Quinn (Liana Liberato), and Chad’s roommate Ethan (Jack Champion). And who knows? Maybe Papa Billy’s demonic genes are infecting Sam.

As we’ve seen before in this franchise, there’s a scene where a character explains that the “rules have changed!”. And nothing is as it seems. The NYC locale change is welcome (Ghostface brandishing a shotgun in a bodega is fresh new territory). Scream VI gets by for a while in the new setting and with its furious piercings. Sadly it is not faster. The 122 minute runtime is a series record and when we reach the third act, the rules haven’t changed much with the unmasking reveals. That portion is the biggest letdown. There’s only so many ways to inject life into these deaths, but they’ll find ways as long as we continue to show them the money.

**1/2 (out of four)

Fall Review

I wouldn’t say I love Scott Mann’s low budget survival tall tale Fall, but it admirably generates suspense in spurts. This begins in Cliffhanger fashion with a loved one plummeting to their grisly demise. The late great Norm MacDonald had a joke about cliff divers and it applies with climbers. He said there’s two types of participants in such an activity: Grand Champion (because you survived) and “Stuff on a Rock”. Mason Gooding’s Dan is the latter. Wife (Grace Caroline Currey) and best friend Hunter (Virginia Gardner) witness the tragedy during their mountain ascension attempt.

Nearly a year later, mourning Becky has shutoff contact from friends and family (including concerned dad Jeffrey Dean Morgan). Hunter, meanwhile, is a minor Instagram star (60k followers) who goes by Danger D and treats her viewers to various daring exploits. Her solution to help Becky out of her (often drunken) funk is to recruit her on an adventure. The two will scale a decommissioned 2,000 foot TV tower in the desert and document it. At the top, Dan’s unopened ashes will be scattered.

That doesn’t all go as planned. Fall probably sets the record for number of loose bolt shots in a recent motion picture. While Becky and Danger D get to the top, the rickety and rusted ladder gives out and there’s no way down. The rest of this is devoted to figuring out a way to descend.

At least… most of it is. At 107 minutes, there’s some fat that could’ve been trimmed. There’s extraneous relationship dynamics that don’t add much. This might have been more effective at a leaner 85-90 minutes. For a film that incorporates the 80s hair metal hit “Cherry Pie”, it doesn’t always (ahem) warrant the running time.

When there’s vultures to avoid or operating the drone they brought to be their savior or getting their phones to charge, the survival mechanics of the screenplay can be absorbing. The decently convincing cinematography and commitment of the lead actresses are pluses. The occasional padding courtesy of the script prevents this being a big winner. It’s not stuff on a rock either.

**1/2 (out of four)

Whitney Houston: I Wanna Dance with Somebody Review

For a movie about The Voice, Whitney Houston: I Wanna Dance with Somebody strains to find its own. While undeniably long on title (in case you forgot who sang one of her signature bops), it’s sadly short on actual substance.

We first meet Ms. Houston (Naomi Ackie) in the church choir alongside mother Cissy (Tamara Tunie). She comes from notable musical lineage in that Cissy was a successful backup singer (who never quite broke out on her own) and Dionne Warwick is a first cousin. The pipes of Whitney are clearly a precious commodity as Cissy and business conscious and stern father John (Clarke Peters) prod her into the biz. Famed record exec Clive Davis (Stanley Tucci) takes Whitney under his wing and she rises to unheard of stardom for a female solo artist beginning in the mid 80s.

There are potential controversies immediately. Whitney’s romance with Robyn Crawford (Nafessa Williams) is jettisoned since it won’t match the girl next door image. While Robyn becomes her trusted assistant, Whitney’s (or Nippy as the family and close friends call her) entanglements are a frequent source of consternation. This briefly applies to Jermaine Jackson, but especially when her and R&B bad boy Bobby Brown (Ashton Sanders) get serious.

Jumping from career and personal highlights to lowlights, the screenplay from Andrew McCarten can feel as erratic as the title subject’s increasingly worrisome behavior. The writer penned Bohemian Rhapsody and it closely follows that hit pic’s playbook. It shows us the troubled aspects of the singer followed in quick succession by an iconic moment in their discography.

There are obviously lots of them in Houston’s orbit. From seven #1 hits in a row to her soaring rendition of the National Anthem at the Super Bowl to the cinematic and soundtrack phenomenon that was The Bodyguard, what’s disappointing is how glossed over and rushed they feel. For a feature with a two and half hour runtime (and you feel it), McCarten’s script never focuses on anything with more than a surface level “Behind the Music” energy.

Some of the same criticisms were deservedly pointed at Bohemian Rhapsody. I’d rank Rhapsody higher because its musical interludes like Wembley packed more of a stylistically directed punch. The behind the camera work from Kasi Lemmons never reaches that level.

As for the performances, Ackie doesn’t much resemble Whitney. Yet by the conclusion, she manages to embody her spirit in the performance pieces passably. Tucci is given a couple scenes to flesh out Davis’s character into a sympathetic figure (it probably doesn’t hurt that the actual Davis is a coproducer). Same goes for Tunie’s Cissy. Other roles are of the one-note variety like John’s scheming manager who forgets to be a father and Bobby’s constant companion who fails to be a good husband. Just as the family tries to ignore Robyn’s presence, the screenplay eventually does too.

The music itself occasionally saves the mediocrity of where this broken biopic goes. Sadly that’s not enough to save it. In other words, it’s often doesn’t feel right and it’s just OK.

** (out of four)

Cocaine Bear Review

There’s a sequence in this movie where the title creature’s furry vengeance turns to chasing an ambulance. Entering full drug-addled beast mode while Depeche Mode blares on the 80s soundtrack, it represents the best about what something called Cocaine Bear can be. It is juicy and mindless violent fun and there’s enough other moments that approach that high point.

As we are informed in the beginning, this is inspired by true events. In 1985, smuggler Andrew C. Thornton II (Matthew Rhys) dumped a bunch of blow from a plane that crashed in a Northwest Georgia national forest. Thornton doesn’t survive the flight he’s on but his product is available for the snorting pleasure of a black bear. The computer generated animal (with decent special effects involved) turns highly aggressive when under the influence. This is bad news for the many characters who end up visiting the park. In fact, there’s probably too many characters vying for our attention.

Rhys’s The Americans costar Keri Russell is a single mom whose daughter (Brooklyn Prince) and friend (Christian Convery) ditch school for a day in the wilderness. Rhys and Russell’s The Americans costar Margo Martindale is the park ranger who’s sweet on her game warden colleague (Jesse Tyler Ferguson). A St. Louis cop (Isiah Whitlock Jr.) turns up to investigate Rhys’s demise. Then there’s his fellow smugglers Daveed (O’Shea Jackson Jr.) and Eddie (Alden Ehrenreich) who are tasked with finding the $14 million worth of merchandise. Eddie is the son of kingpin Syd (Ray Liotta, hamming it up gleefully in one of his final roles) and humorously mourning the loss of his wife through ballads by Jeffrey Osborne. There’s also a vacationing Nordic couple and a trio of forest dwelling thugs who have no clue what they’re in for.

That’s a lot of faces when we’re really present to watch the bear not feel her own (yes… it’s a girl!). Even at a speedy 95 minutes, a tad more attention span to some and jettisoning others might have elevated this. I would have enjoyed more screen time with Stache (Aaron Holliday), one of the wannabe ruffians, for example.

Elizabeth Banks directs and her third feature after Pitch Perfect 2 and Charlie’s Angels (the one no one talks about) is no whammy in the filmography. Due to the CG involved, no bears or cocaine were harmed in the production. It does generate a consistently amusing if disposable wild trip in the park.

*** (out of four)

Babylon Review

The silent days and boisterous evenings of Hollywood in the 1920s and 30s are meticulously depicted in Babylon. From the gourd of Damien Chazelle, this is his version of Boogie Nights in many respects. It focuses on one version of Tinseltown technology fading out in favor of another. In Paul Thomas Anderson’s masterpiece from a quarter century ago, it was X rated material shot on film being transitioned to video. Here it’s the silent era making way for talkies. The adult entertainment is on ample display at the swank and sweaty bashes that feature cocaine and elephants as party favors.

We meet the main principals at an L.A. happening in 1926. Manny Torres (Diego Calva) is an immigrant doing menial work for Kinoscope Studios. At the company’s debauched soirée, aspiring star Nellie LaRoy (Margot Robbie) literally crashes into his consciousness and a years long infatuation is born. Jack Conrad (Brad Pitt) is the already established screen hero whose shooting schedules seem to last longer than his marriages. Jazz trumpeter Sidney Palmer (Jovan Adepo) provides the soundtrack to the sin while cabaret songstress Lady Fay Zhu (Li Jun Li) supplies sultry vocals. Columnist Elinor St. John (Jean Smart) is around to gossip about it.

The night serves as the intro point for Manny and Nellie to mount separate meteoric rises in a shifting industry. She becomes a silent film sensation just as sound (courtesy of The Jazz Singer) is around the corner. Manny’s connection with Conrad opens doors to big jobs as the movie headliner’s career begins a downward slide. Palmer, meanwhile, becomes a popular if exploited attraction in a series of musicals.

For three hours plus, Babylon celebrates and denigrates the excesses of the era. Nellie’s substance fueled rocket ride and downfall is given bulky screen time while others get the short shrift (Jun Li’s Zhu being one example). There is impressive production design to spare where odious actions occur within the walls. Tobey Maguire’s cameo as a whacked out criminal at an underground function displays scenarios that might make Robbie’s and her costars from The Wolf of Wall Street blush.

Chazelle’s message is pretty straightforward when there isn’t vomit and defecate being spewed. As ugly as Hollywood is, the end result can be beautiful. This is evident in a couple of terrific sequences that show the joy and pain of moviemaking. In one we witness Conrad’s war-torn romance catch the light at the perfect time. In another we suffer along with Nellie as she acclimates herself to the noise being introduced to celluloid.

I wish the gifted provider of Whiplash and La La Land could’ve reigned himself in. The aforementioned segments show how special this would have been with a tighter focus. Unfortunately it’s not only septa being deviated from. While Robbie and Pitt both have shining moments, Chazelle’s screenplay never makes Manny a compelling central figure. Calva doesn’t have much to work with considering his blank slate of a character. There are many known faces that pop up in the crowded script including Olivia Wilde and Katherine Waterston as fleeting wives to Conrad. Lukas Haas is the sad sack friend to the frequent divorcee whose character is similar to William H. Macy’s in Boogie Nights. That picture and Babylon take place in different eras of Hollywood shifts. One is brilliant. The other is occasionally inspired and often maddening.

**1/2 (out of four)

Your Place or Mine Review

Your Place or Mine features a greatest hits CD worth of tracks by The Cars while the movie never kicks into high gear. It never totally sputters either. Keeping the leads about 2800 miles apart for the vast duration might give off Sleepless in Seattle vibes, but you’ve got chemistry between Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan that surpasses that of Reese Witherspoon and Ashton Kutcher.

We meet Debbie (Witherspoon) and Peter (Kutcher) in 2003. He’s sporting a wallet chain and she’s in a WonderBra on the night they hook up after a crazy game of poker. The romance ceases after night one though they don’t lose it all. What follows is a close 20-year platonic relationship. He’s on the East Coast where his flings never exceed the six month mark. She’s on the West Coast with her teenage son (Wesley Kimmel). Her mountain climbing ex-hubby is off climbing mountains while her zany next door neighbor and part-time gardener (Steve Zahn) is always hanging around. A helicopter mom, Debbie is finally convinced to take her own flight to Brooklyn to complete a week-long accounting course. Peter hits L.A. to watch the kid.

Staying at each other’s abodes gives them fresh insights. They pride their friendship on being completely honest. It turns out this isn’t the case in ways large and small. Peter hasn’t completely given up his young 20s dream of being a novelist. Of course, the biggest diversion from the whole truth is they are madly in love and can’t admit it. I don’t think we need a SPOILER ALERT. They both try to avoid it. Debbie, with assistance from Peter’s ex-flame (Zoë Chao, quite funny), meets a dreamy publisher (Jesse Williams) for her first flirtation in some time. Meanwhile her babysitter’s best friend (the always game Tig Notaro) serves as Peter’s sounding board.

The directorial debut of Aline Brosh McKenna, she’s no stranger to writing hits in the genre like The Devil Wears Prada and 27 Dresses. 2003, shortly before those rom com entries, is about when Witherspoon and Kutcher were starting their known features in the field (Sweet Home Alabama for her, Just Married for him). It’s a tad surprising they never teamed up before.

Your Place or Mine imagines a glossy scenario where their version of happily ever after is delayed a couple of decades. The long wait includes the inability to truly judge their chemistry as the bulk of their interactions is via calls and texts. Contrary to The Cars songs that play, I guess it’s not what we needed and there’s scant magic. You might think it’s average at best.

** (out of four)

Knock at the Cabin Review

Sunshine causes lingering pain and brief moments of delight in M. Night Shyamalan’s Knock at the Cabin, a dark and grim adaptation of Paul G. Tremblay’s 2018 novel. The filmmaker’s weakest tendencies are present but don’t arise as often in the mostly one space setting. Clunky dialogue and bizarre character choices associated with Shyamalan are kept to a minimum. There’s no rapper bafflingly named Mid-Sized Sedan like in his predecessor Old. The apocalyptic theme is hardly new though it generates a respectable amount of tension.

It also gets to the point in scene one. Leonard (Dave Bautista) may look like a bouncer, but he teaches second grade. We learn this as he introduces himself to seven-year-old Wen (Kristen Cui) while she’s catching grasshoppers outside a vacation property in remote Pennsylvania. Wen is the adopted daughter of her two Dads Eric (Jonathan Groff) and Andrew (Ben Aldridge). Leonard insists on forcefully entering the cabin with three associates all sporting old school weapons. They’re not your typical home invaders: nurse Sabrina (Nikki Amuka-Bird) and cook Adriane (Abby Quinn) have kind demeanors like Leonard. Only ill-tempered Redmond (Rupert Grint, all grown up from Harry Potter Weasley fame) seems comfortable breaking and entering.

Dad and Dad don’t welcome their presence and they’re tied up. Eric becomes concussed in the process (hence the sunlight hurting him). The quartet explains that the trio face a gut wrenching choice. They must sacrifice a family member in a short period of time. If they don’t, the world’s population will end in a series of catastrophes. Eric, Andrew, and Wen will survive and everyone else will perish. The hostages are understandably skeptical. Their detainers (who claim they’ve all experienced similar visions of devastation) aren’t afraid to display how serious they are. This includes news footage that shows they might be onto something.

The bulk of Cabin is reserved for us deciding whether Leonard and company are telling the truth. We do get flashbacks of Eric and Andrew’s relationship before and after they bring Wen into their lives. They feel somewhat superfluous yet they are fleeting interludes in the appreciatively brisk 100 minutes. Bautista is playing against type. You would think of him as a teacher in a silly comedy where he displays his bulk. This is far from that and his work is restrained in a positive way. All the performance are adequate. Shyamalan’s track record is spotty with child performances. He is responsible for guiding some great ones (think Haley Joel Osment in The Sixth Sense or Spencer Treat Clark in Unbreakable). Cui’s is on the plus side.

I was a captive audience member for much of the stay. As it continued, I found this surprisingly anticlimactic (especially for something about the Earth maybe ending). Shyamalan has resurrected his career by self-financing his pictures and turning a tidy profit. While that’s admirable, he seems limited by the budget considering all that’s occurring outside the cabin. Like a mid-sized sedan, it’s dependable for awhile until it isn’t.

**1/2 (out of four)

You People Review

You People begins with podcaster Ezra (Jonah Hill) and his cohost Mo (Sam Jay) having a chat about the former’s relationship status. They compare it to the various albums of Drake as far as his moods (looking for love Drake vs. party boy Drake). It sounds like the idea of a conversation you’d have in a movie screenplay before the scribes try for authenticity. Hill and cowriter/director Kenya Barris (creator of sitcom black-ish) rarely get to the authenticity part as this race and family relations concoction feels overly workshopped. There are glimpses in the third act, but what a waste of talent for so much of it.

Ezra’s heart is taken by Amira (Lauren London) after mistaking her for his Uber driver. The couple’s meet cute quickly elevates to an engagement and the meet the parents business complicates the bliss. His are Julia-Louis Dreyfus’s doting Jewish mom Shelley and hubby Arnold (David Duchovny), whose lines are 90% describing 90s rapper Xzibit. Hers are devout Muslim Akbar (Eddie Murphy) and wife Fatima (Nia Long). Ezra’s streaming show is about cultural interactions. Those of the in-laws could fill a season’s worth of content.

The problem is it’s not profound and feels rather tame. A lunch table talk about the ebony and ivory aspects of Forrest Gump is shrimpy in its impact. Same goes for when Ezra is stuck in the car with his future father-in-law as a Jay-Z/Kanye track using a forbidden word comes up. These are sitcom level situations with the humor stuck in bland-ish gear.

A cast filled with familiar faces do add some welcome laughs. Small contributions from Mike Epps as Akbar’s degenerate brother and Molly Gordon as Ezra’s exasperated sister help. Barris and Hill manage to inject a little emotion in the waning moments that could satisfy ardent rom com devotees.

For the most part, You People is listless. The biggest surprise is the term applies to Murphy’s performance. The legend is usually the spark plug even in his mediocre pics. This recalls his lethargic work in Beverly Hills Cop III more than anything else. When that’s the comparison I’m making with his filmography, the heat is off when it comes to his normal firepower.

** (out of four)