Tag: movie reviews

Amsterdam Review

David O. Russell’s Amsterdam exasperates more than it fascinates. Opening with the tagline “A lot of this actually happened”, the brief explorations of American history between the World Wars hint at a compelling narrative. Wanting to go down a Wikipedia rabbit hole afterwards doesn’t necessarily make for a gratifying experience.

Dr. Burt Berendsen (Christian Bale) is a member of New York high society through marriage. His snooty in-laws and high maintenance wife (Andrea Riseborough) ship him off to what will become World War I in 1918. Under the command of the kindly Bill Meekins (Ed Begley Jr.), the good doc practices his skills for an all black regiment. They must wear French uniforms since the American forces aren’t integrated. That’s a part that actually happened. Burt makes fast friends with Harold Woodsman (John David Washington). They fight together and are seriously wounded together. Burt is given a glass eye that’s often used for screwball comedy effect. Their injuries introduce them to peculiar nurse Valerie (Margot Robbie), who takes the soldier’s battle scars (such as the metal embedded in their flesh) and turns it into surrealistic art. Burt, Harold, and Valerie form a close bond including the romantic sort for the latter two. The trio live a joyous existence in the title city until Burt returns to the Big Apple. Harold eventually follows suit to become an attorney. The men stay friends and colleagues while Valerie’s whereabouts are unknown.

Fifteen years later, the U.S. is in a depression. Our two New Yorkers have an even more pressing issue. Former war commander Meekins (now a Senator) turns up dead and mysteriously so. His daughter Elizabeth (Taylor Swift, in a performance that will surely generate memes) enlists dad’s former soldiers to investigate. This snooping leads to a vast government conspiracy – some of which falls under the actually happened headline. The case additionally leads them back to Valerie and an all-star cast beyond Bale, Washington, and Robbie.

Chris Rock is a member of the French uniformed clad force. Michael Shannon and Mike Myers are intelligence officers amusingly masquerading as bird experts. Zoe Saldana, in the picture’s most underdeveloped role, helps perform autopsy work and is a potential love interest for Burt. The most intriguing character is General Gill Dillenbeck (Robert De Niro), a combat hero being recruited for fascist propagandist purposes. Russell’s screenplay gives De Niro a noteworthy role to play with (this is the fourth collaboration between them). The legendary actor has done some of his finest 21st century work with the filmmaker.

The political potboiler aspects kick into gear when Dillenbeck pops up for the second half. That’s when Amsterdam improves. The first half feels like Russell’s attempt to do a Wes Anderson or Coen Bros type whimsical comedy and he fails the test. There’s a lot of characters crowding the scene. Rami Malek is an affluent textile magnet with connections to Valerie. Anya Taylor-Joy is his wife, who has a funny fangirl crush on Dillenbeck. Alessandro Nivola and Matthias Schoenaerts are detectives assigned to track the lead trio.

Once Russell gets to what Amsterdam is really about (with some unmistakable current events overtones), I realized lots of these famous faces and subplots could’ve been jettisoned for a more focused approach. Of all the names, Bale (always committed) and De Niro come out best. The director’s eye for the solid material keeps getting dislodged – like Burt’s fake one. This makes it questionable as to whether it’s worth seeing. More of the stuff that actually happened and not the forced whimsy would have been a reasonable start.

**1/2 (out of four)

Black Panther: Wakanda Forever Review

Black Panther: Wakanda Forever does a commendable job in its treatment of Chadwick Boseman’s 2020 passing. What remains in the sequel feels bloated (161 minutes) and is a significant decline from its 2018 predecessor. The MCU in 2022 has been in a relative rut (Doctor Strange in the Multiverse and Thor: Love and Thunder) and Forever extends that.

I will start by accentuating the aforementioned positive. Director and co-writer Ryan Coogler and his team were obviously faced with a sad and unenviable task of handling the title character’s real life death. King T’Challa’s absence is addressed immediately. The departure is the emotional ripple that causes genuine waves of emotion in the beginning and especially the end.

However, we are left to wonder if the filmmakers would’ve been better off recasting the role. Boseman’s presence and the idea of having a central protagonist is missed in the follow-up. The narrative of Wakanda often feels pulled into too many directions. I found myself wishing to untangle it and cut loose ends.

The plot comes into focus one year after T’Challah’s funeral. Sister Shuri (Letitia Wright) is haunted that her tech skills couldn’t save her sibling. Queen Ramonda (Angela Bassett) rules the country with an iron fist. Other nations, including the United States, are jealous of their vibranium hoarding ways. It turns out the precious metal is also present under the surface in the underwater land of Talokan. Their ruler is Namor (Tenoch Huerta) and his legion of Avatar looking subjects are grappling with how to handle their valuable commodity. Namor decides that Wakanda either needs to join him in declaring war on the rest of the world (who want that sweet vibranium) or become a nemesis of the subsurface society.

Namor, as written, is a fairly decent antagonist. Like Michael B. Jordan’s Killmonger in the original, his motives to be “the bad guy” are rather understandable. The Marvel Cinematic Universe has had plenty of forgettable villains. Namor isn’t one, but Huerta also isn’t much of a threatening presence. This is especially true when comparing Namor to Killmonger as there is no comparison.

My biggest gripe is the one item that also hindered the third act of 2018’s adventure. The action sequences are frequently handled in clumsy fashion. They are too dimly lit or the CG happenings are confusing.

There are some welcome returns with Winston Duke as the warrior M’Baku and Danai Gurira as Okoye, leader of Wakanda’s all female fighting force. Lupita Nyong’o is back as Nakia, T’Challah’s love interest. She is summoned back to her native land by Ramonda and Bassett is given a couple of potent monologues as the mourning Queen.

Then there’s Martin Freeman back on duty as CIA agent Everett Ross. This time around, he’s teamed with his boss and ex-wife Val (Julia Louis-Dreyfus) as they are at odds in their views on how to deal with Wakanda. The screenwriters should have dealt them off the page. They could have been eliminated altogether and the only difference would be a thankfully shorter runtime.

For all the working in water happening during Wakanda Forever, the real waterworks occur as Mr. Boseman is honored and those are powerful moments. Too much of the rest doesn’t work at all.

**1/2 (out of four)

Enola Holmes Review

Mille Bobby Brown has battled plenty of otherworldly creatures on Netflix’s smash Stranger Things or Godzilla, King of the Monsters. In Enola Holmes, she fights with her wits inherited from her revolutionary minded mum and world famous brother. I suspect she’ll solve plenty more mysteries for the streaming pleasure of its young and female target audience.

Based on a series of novels from Nancy Springer, Brown’s title character is the youngest in her family. Dad has passed and her two older brothers are long gone. Mom Eudoria (Helena Bonham Carter) spends her days teaching Enola skills including martial arts and decoding. They come in handy when Eudoria vanishes on her daughter’s 16th birthday. The disappearance is not sweetened when it seems the matriarch has left on purpose.

This puts Enola back in contact with her siblings. Mycroft (Sam Claflin) is a stuffy politico now serving as her ward. He wants to send her to finishing school to sand down the rough edges. The middle child is the superstar of the clan (no Jan Brady issues here). That would be Sherlock Holmes (Henry Cavill) who’s distant from the brood due to all his investigative commitments.

Enola isn’t about to spend her days learning how to be a “proper” lady so she hits the road in search of Eudoria. Leaving some breadcrumbs as to her whereabouts, the trail leads to London where she may be part of a rogue women’s suffrage group. It’s the late 19th century and this is the center of political upheaval.

It turns out Enola has more capers to consider. She’s introduced to Viscount Tewkesbury (Louis Partridge) on the journey. The teenage British royal is on the run as someone is trying to kill him. He’s introduced to Enola hiding in an overhead bag on a train as he nearly falls on her. They soon fall for each other.

The dual cases of the Missing Mother and Tewkesbury becoming a Missing Person fill an overstuffed two hours. Brown carries the material even though neither mystery is particularly absorbing. She also talks to and mugs for the camera… a lot. As in probably too much. Sherlock is relegated to the sideline in this tale of his little sister harnessing her girl power. This might be an elementary introduction to her, but it’s got appeal.

**1/2 (out of four)

The Man from Toronto Review

The buddy action comedy shenanigans of The Man from Toronto are as generic as the title. Kevin Hart and Woody Harrelson can’t save a lazy script that could’ve used a potent punch up. The stars are dropped into scenarios we’ve seen on countless occasions in this mistaken identity caper where a wimpy everyman must masquerade as a tough guy. There’s not a new ingredient to be found unless you count the hitman secretly hoping to be a chef.

Woody Harrelson is The Man from Toronto, that culinary minded assassin with a legendary reputation for extracting sensitive information from his captors. His methods of doing so aren’t any more creative than your run-of-the-mill bad guy. However, he’s got a conscience and a story about a bear mauling his grandpa on a frozen lake. It’s as pointlessly strange as it sounds.

Kevin Hart is struggling fitness instructor Teddy, who can’t sell his get rich quick idea of contactless boxing. While treating his wife Lori (Jasmine Mathews) to a birthday celebration weekend, the hapless entrepreneur checks into the wrong cabin. This is due to a low toner issue printing off a smudgy address. To the best of my knowledge, Toronto was not shot over a decade ago. That’s when Teddy might have actually printed off directions instead of having them handy on his phone or programmed into the GPS. The Man from Toronto is scheduled for interrogation of a hostage at the cabin. When Teddy arrives first, he is forced to play the part.

When the FBI show up, the charade must continue. I might forget why as I’m typing because the screenplay is so forgettable. It involves the potential assassination of the Venezuelan President who’s visiting Washington D.C. Woody (I’m not going to keep saying The Man from Toronto) takes his orders from The Handler (Ellen Barkin), who has employees all over the globe. There’s The Man from Miami (Pierson Fode), who’s called in when Woody is busy dealing with Teddy’s intrusion. There’s Moscow and Tokyo! There’s the Men from Tacoma because they are siblings. Maybe a compelling picture could be made about how they’re selected. Do major metro areas get more than one Man? Why would Cody, Wyoming with its population of 10,000 get the same number as Beijing which has 24 million citizens? Shouldn’t they have more contract killers? What’s the nepotism backstory that allowed the brothers Tacoma to have double the hitmen as Tokyo?

These burning questions aside, The Man from Toronto would be far more tolerable if Hart and Harrelson had a scintilla of funny dialogue. Or if the action sequences were choreographed with more precision. The rare laughs come from (I suspect) Hart’s ad libbing and delivery. They don’t come from Kaley Cuoco, a talented comedienne who appears for about 5 minutes as Lori’s fun seeking friend. I wonder if her part got cut down? Cuoco never finds the entertainment she’s looking for and we can relate.

*1/2 (out of four)

Weird: The Al Yankovic Story Review

There is an ultrahigh funny consistency in Weird: The Al Yankovic Story before the hilarity frequency is turned down a notch as it plays on. Focused on pop’s most famous parody artist, it’s appropriate that the film is a sendup of the musical biopic genre. Director Eric Appel and Yankovic himself penned the screenplay which cheekily casts Daniel Radcliffe as the man with the accordion.

As a youngster, Al’s father (Toby Huss) would rather see his boy working in the factory (where they make mysterious “things”) than making songs. Mom (Julianne Nicholson) buys him the harmonious box organ behind Dad’s back. Soon a teenage Al is busted for experimenting with the instrument at a party (the accordion uproariously stands in for hard drugs) and he’s on his own. At college and with the encouragement of three roommates turned bandmates, he becomes the biggest pop star in the world with his spoof tracks.

Similar to Bohemian Rhapsody, we take a journey through the creation of “My Bologna”, “Another One Rides the Bus”, “Eat It”, and “Like a Surgeon”. These segments are more exaggerated (slightly) than those in Rhapsody. The latter tune is manifested through his whirlwind tryst with the ambitious and conniving Madonna (Evan Rachel Wood, doing a fine impersonation). As for his largest smash “Eat It”, the script cleverly insists it was Michael Jackson ripping off Al.

Radcliffe is a pleasure to watch (the real Al plays a music exec) as he makes the tragic rock star journey. There are cameos galore including Jack Black as a taunting Wolfman Jack and a noted late night host as Andy Warhol (pay attention). Rainn Wilson is Dr. Demento, the radio host who gave the Weird one his big break (no exaggeration).

When we reach a Hot Shots! level of silliness with Al going Rambo at Pablo Escobar’s birthday bash, it all begins to wear a bit thin. Most of the time this is as fun and irreverent as its subject’s creations. No bologna.

*** (out of four)

See How They Run Review

You know a genre has made a real comeback when the passably forgettable entries pop up. That’s an apt description for Tom George’s See How They Run which features lovely production design, a few humorous bits, and a murder mystery that’s hard to get invested in. The 2017 remake of Murder on the Orient Express and 2019’s Knives Out made whodunits a valuable commodity again as Run catches up with the trend.

This one is a little meta (very much of the times) as the killing occurs in London’s West End circa 1953. The Mousetrap, a play written by Agatha Christie, is celebrating its 100th performance. Side note: for some fun research, look up how long the actual play ran. American film director Leo Köpernick (Adrien Brody), a drunken louse, is slated to make the film adaptation. His inappropriate behavior puts him at odds with the stage performance’s lead Dickie Attenborough (Harris Dickinson), producers John Woolf (Reece Shearsmith) and Petula Spencer (Ruth Wilson), and screenwriter Mervyn Cocker-Norris (David Oyelowo). Another side note as my 90s kid upbringing only left me slightly distracted that Dickie Attenborough would become a famed director who also happens to be John Hammond from Jurassic Park.

Moving on, Leo’s early narration correctly surmises that the most contemptible character in these stories usually gets offed. Therefore his time is short-lived and everyone onscreen seems to have a motive. Another drunken louse is in charge of the crime solving when Inspector Stoppard (Sam Rockwell) is assigned the case. Shadowing him is the eager but inexperienced Constable Stalker (Saoirse Ronan).

The chemistry between the two investigators is meant to carry the load for most of the snappy runtime (98 minutes). This is where the screenplay from Mark Chappell isn’t quite up to snuff. Rockwell speaks his lines in a woozy register that recalls Johnny Depp’s Jack Sparrow. Lady Bird‘s Ronan (like the rookie she’s portraying) gives it her all. Unfortunately the material is pretty thin. It might be considered a lesser tome from Christie, who factors into the plot in numerous ways. To put it simply, the case that Stoppard and his trusty Stalker are looking into isn’t that compelling.

See How They Run goes by quickly and there are a handful of inspired bits. When the action reaches a snowed in mansion in the third act, I wished the whole picture could’ve been set there. Much of it is as disposable as the victim.

**1/2 (out of four)

Everything Everywhere All at Once Review

It takes a few minutes to get acclimated to Everything Everywhere All at Once, a visionary and visual effects packed gumbo of genres from Dan Kwan and Daniel Scheinert (the directing duo known as Daniels). For a very brief period of time, I was as skeptical in taking the journey as our central character Evelyn (Michelle Yeoh) is. That didn’t last long. By the time I’d witnessed hot dog fingers, raccoons assisting hibachi meal preparations, and world destroying bagels, Everything had 100% won my heart over. I mean that literally. This is an emotional ride by its third act… in a film with raccoons assisting hibachi meal preparations. It’s cliche to say “you’ve never seen anything quite like this!” Not this time as it’s applicable and glorious.

Evelyn is running a laundromat in poor financial shape alongside her kind but somewhat listless husband Waymond (Ke Huy Quan). This is not exactly their vision of the American dream after they emigrated from China. Evelyn’s ailing father (James Hong) now lives with them, but years ago he strongly felt Waymond wasn’t good enough for his girl. Maybe he was right as Waymond has served his spouse with divorce papers. Evelyn can’t accept daughter Joy’s lesbianism or girlfriend Becky (Tallie Medel). This causes Joy (Stephanie Hsu) to rebel in ways both small and, as we’ll soon learn, hugely reality altering.

This family baggage is all brought to a cluttered cubicle manned with authority by Deirdre (Jamie Lee Curtis), an IRS agent. She takes her auditing duties very seriously and doesn’t like Evelyn’s spin about her washer and dryer location. Everything quickly gets weirder than the awards on Deirdre’s desk (you’ll see). The lackadaisical Waymond seemingly has a personality transplant into some sort of a super spy. Now identifying as Alpha Waymond, he explains to his perplexed wife that he’s come from an alternative world called the Alphaverse. In short, there are infinite dimensions (or Multiverses) where these characters exist. They are created by the choices that Evelyn makes. She’s a movie star in one or a chef in another (where we find that raccoon) and so forth. In some, she’s even inanimate objects. One constant is that the villainous Jobu Tapaki is attempting to destroy the Multiverse. And that deadly bad girl is always a version of Joy.

I’ll interrupt this plot description by coming clean and admitting that there’s no way to properly contextualize this movie. Readers of the previous three paragraphs might be scratching their heads and I get it. During the first half hour or so, that’s how I felt. How on Earth do hot dogs for fingers factor in? You have to see it to believe it. And you have to see it.

Kwan and Scheinert take all these wild ingredients and create a feast for movie lovers. There’s a kitchen sink mentality that can initially be overwhelming. Yet as it barrels along, I realized I didn’t want to leave the kitchen. It manages to be lots of stuff at the same time (maybe there’s a better way to say that). This is a tribute to the cinematic legacy of Yeoh, who’s given the role of a lifetime and still shows off her martial arts prowess at age 59. It’s a welcome return to the screen for Huy Quan nearly 40 years after his iconic child performances in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom and The Goonies. For Hsu, this is star making work as the disgruntled daughter and Curtis nails her part as the frumpy and fervent government employee.

When Everything reaches it third act, I was gobsmacked by how moving it became. There are deep themes explored among the wiener digits and badgering cooks. This is about the love and sometimes tough love that families go through. The Daniels go as far to explore meaning of life questions in absurd yet ultimately boldly touching ways. It’s marvelously exhilarating.

**** (out of four)

Decision to Leave Review

There is captivation without consummation in Park Chan-wook’s Decision to Leave, a stunning looking and sometimes confounding slice of pulp fiction. Its central romance is unique in the lack of actual sexual activity mixed with an abundance of genuinely felt romantic tension. There’s a dreamy like tone that echo the fantasies likely occurring in the lead detective’s smitten head. In that sense, calling this the filmmaker’s homage to Vertigo is fair. As in Hitchcock’s masterpiece, the fall may kill you.

In South Korea, the fall does kill a man while rock climbing and Detective Hae-jun (Park Hae-il) suspects it’s not an accident or suicide. The deceased’s younger wife Seo-rae (Tang Wei) doesn’t behave as the typical widow. She immediately goes back to work as an elder caregiver by reasoning that a living client takes precedent over a dead spouse. Hae-jun has his suspicions while his wild card partner (Go Kyung-po) is convinced of her guilt.

The interrogation scenes between Hae-jun and Seo-rae display the former’s infatuation with her. He treats her to high end cuisine during the probes while dealing with language barriers (she primarily speaks her native Chinese). Outside of the station, he’s eager to stake her out and eventually welcome her to his world. The detective at first seems happily married to the sweet Jung-an (Lee Hung-hyun), but the bliss appears to be a facade. He lives in a separate apartment during the week where his insomnia allows him to obsess over unsolved mysteries. The latest fixation and enigma is Seo-rae.

What is love (as Haddaway once asked) is ultimately the query of Decision to Leave. I won’t deny being a little confused in moments with its quick excursions into unrelated scenes that take the focus away from the central romance. When a key part of the narrative wraps up midway through, the picture flirts with being anti-climatic during the second half. Chan-wook’s impeccable style behind the camera prevents that from happening. So does some well-placed humor.

Both leads are beguiling with Wei in a star making performance. Decision is open ended as to how the viewer might interpret her actions. Some of Seo-rae’s behavior indicates she may love him too. For Hae-jun, maybe he could find the real answers to his hunches about her if his probing brain wasn’t buried in the sand. Or perhaps having that head in the sand is exactly where it needs to be.

*** (out of four)

Morbius Review

There are some Matrix adjacent fight scenes in Morbius that might have you thinking it should be called Morpheus. They’re nowhere near that level in quality and some of them are such a CG mess that you can’t tell what’s happening. Should our hero and villain bite the red artery or suck the blue vein? Despite its connective tissue to Sony’s Spider-Man Universe (meaning the web slinger and Venom), it’s hard to really care.

Dr. Michael Morbius (Jared Leto) is a world renowned expert in blood disorders. The experience is personal as he has one and makes it his life work to cure himself and others. His childhood friend Milo (Matt Smith) suffers from the same disease and has the money to bankroll Doc Mo’s research. A Costa Rican excursion results in the acquisition of vampire bats. Perhaps some genetic splicing will do the trick!

This is when Morbius is blessed and cursed with the batty sense. He feels better than ever (and looks jacked), but has to feast to keep the strength up. His desire to go full Dracula prevents him from offering the cure to Milo. That puts a strain on their friendship causing Milo to go full overacting bad guy.

While our title character tries to get by on artificial blood, many of the visual effects look pretty fake. There’s no real development of the supporting characters. This includes Adria Arjona as Morbius’s colleague/love interest, Jared Harris as his father figure and medical mentor, and Tyrese Gibson and Al Madrigal as detectives tracking the suckers. Maybe their time was cut. Maybe the filmmakers (with Daniel Espinosa in the director’s seat) are saving some for hoped for sequels. Tyrese is apparently signed for a three-picture deal which explains his curiously fast appearance.

In the first half, Morbius is a passable enough monster mash. Maybe even a little quaint as it sort of feels like a late 90s genre piece before most comic book movies came with $200 million budgets. I’m not sure I buy Leto as a brilliant physician turning down Nobel prizes, but he doesn’t embarrass himself. This sputters as the effects render it increasingly incomprehensible.

By the time it drops in Spidey references in the mid credits sequences, it’s gotten desperate. In this Spider-Verse, Morbius doesn’t reach the specific heights of the venomous creatures preceding it.

** (out of four)

Don’t Worry Darling Review

The halcyon neighborhood in Olivia Wilde’s Don’t Worry Darling looks like something a production designer would mount for a 1950s suburban setting (think Pleasantville or Edward Scissorhands). In the director’s sophomore feature after the winning Booksmart, that begins to make more sense as time passes. The male characters are all about appearance and maintaining a certain Mad Men vibe. Their wives are expected to maintain the home (though there are more frequent opportunities for cocktails given the pined for time period). You don’t need to be a cinephile to suspect this idealized community could be a facade and that dark secrets lurk. You might be reminded of several films with similar themes that were more successful. Meanwhile… that production design and other tech aspects? They’re exquisite. So is the lead performance. They’re also contained in a story that’s often baffling in its narrative design.

Alice Chambers (Florence Pugh) is a resident of Victory, California where everyone seems to have a winning attitude. Her husband Jack (Harry Styles), along with the rest of the townsmen, work at Headquarters where their uniform job description is developing “progressive materials”. Alice and the rest of the spouses have no clue what that means and seem more concerned with the sheets being properly folded and the roast being cooked at the proper temperature. The unofficial ruler of Victory is Frank (Chris Pine). In addition to being the boss at Headquarters (where the ladies are strictly forbidden from visiting), he has daily indoctrination monologues disguised as a radio show. The call letters could be CULT.

The tranquil facade is threatened when Alice’s friend Margaret (KiKi Layne) begins making accusations about the hierarchy. Shortly thereafter, Alice’s experiences have her questioning this reality. That doesn’t sit well with Frank or Jack, who’s climbing up the corporate ladder. She also finds little support from next door neighbor and bestie Bunny (Wilde), who seems perfectly content with the setup. Same with Frank’s doting wife Shelley (Gemme Chan).

Don’t Worry Darling, with a screenplay from Booksmart scribe Katie Silberman, finds influences from many sources. Notable ones include The Matrix, The Truman Show, and obviously The Stepford Wives. For a while (easily the first half), it’s a decently intriguing and gorgeously rendered paranoia thriller. Yet I couldn’t shake where I thought it was headed and once it got there, it felt as empty as Alice’s daytime activities. This is no fault of the actress playing her. Pugh is a firecracker and that’s not matched by her costars. The charisma of Styles, so evident in his role as Biggest Male Pop Star on the Planet, isn’t evident here.

Silberman’s script leaves plenty of questions burning in the Victory sun. When the credits rolled, I was only mildly interested in the light being shed on them. The style is present with Darling. The substance slows down the progression of this material.

**1/2 (out of four)