Don't Look Up - Review

 

How frustrating it must be to live in a world where, despite constant and ample evidence, no one seems concerned with stopping an all-but-certain devastating event that could wipe out all of humanity. But enough about that, let’s talk about the film. Because the essential thing to remember when watching any film is this: just because a film has a good message or good morals doesn’t immediately mean the film itself is good or is saved from criticism.

Because like his last work “Vice,” Adam McKay’s (“The Big Short,” “Anchorman”) latest satirical comedy/drama may have its heart in the right place but is also rife with plenty of flaws. It’s not a complete disaster, and there are plenty of things to admire and like about it. But how much of that good outweighs the bad?

Starring Leonardo DiCaprio (“The Wolf of Wall Street,” “Gangs of New York”) and Jennifer Lawrence (“The Hunger Games,” “Silver Linings Playbook”), the film follows two scientists, Dr. Randall Mindy and Kate Dibiasky, as they try to tell the world of a comet that will soon hit the Earth and wipe out all life. However, most of the populace, from the President, played by Meryl Streep (“The Devil Wears Prada,” “Mamma Mia!”), to the average Joe, either doesn’t believe them or doesn’t care.

As a tragedy, the film is quite strong. McKay and co-writer David Sirota have a great grasp on getting you to feel for the main cast of characters. Lawrence is a wonderful mixture of hopeful but still depressed millennial angst, and DiCaprio delivers a great performance as a man who’s morals and views are twisted a thousand ways in such a short time. Rob Morgan (“Daredevil (2015),” “The Last Black Man in San Francisco”) is also great as Dr. Teddy Oglethorpe, the head of the Planetary Defense Coordination Office who decides to help them get the message out.

The three of them are playing it all as straight as they can, yet the supporting cast is all over the place. Jonah Hill (“SuperBad,” “Moneyball”) as the President’s son and chief of staff is incredibly annoying. Yes, his character is meant to be, but an annoying character should annoy the other people in the film without annoying the audience. Mark Rylance (“Ready Player One,” “Bridge of Spies”) is too subdued as a socially awkward tech billionaire and Cate Blanchett (“The Curious Case of Benjamin Button,” “Thor: Ragnarok”) and Tyler Perry (“Gone Girl,” “Diary of a Mad Black Woman”) as a pair of morning talk show hosts seem like they’re giving it just as much effort as they would an SNL skit.

Apart from the main three, the only actors who seem to be playing things half seriously are Melanie Lynskey (“Two and a Half Men,” “The Perks of Being a Wallflower”) as June, Dr. Mindy’s wife, Timothée Chalamet (“Little Women (2019),” “Lady Bird”) as Yule, a young punk who befriends Kate, and Streep sometimes. Her performance is the most baffling, as she brings the same level of wide-eyed overacting that she’d previously reserved for projects like “Mamma Mia!” Lynskey and Chalamet are the heart of the film, both managing to give tear jerking moments surrounded by the chaos in the calmest ways possible.

So, the performances are a mixed bag, but what about the rest of the film. What is it trying to say, what’s the point of it all? Well, that’s the thing. For a film that's supposed to be a warning about Climate Change (an allegory that doesn’t really work that well itself), it only really seems to come to the conclusion that “we’re all screwed, so what’s the point?” It’s so heavy handed with its visual and storytelling metaphors that it becomes exhausting by the end.

That’s not helped by a laundry list of tired cliches that McKay trots out to tell the story for him. The tech billionaire is a soft spoken socially awkward genius, the President is a loud egotist with a penchant for riling up middle America and wearing red hats, the news is too obsessed with clicks or being overly cheery to say anything of meaning. Are these all painfully real? Yes, maybe, but you can be blunt without being obvious or lacking nuance.

And by the time the film’s end comes, spoiler alert, everyone dies. The mission fails, no one listens to the scientists, and everyone dies. A film with a message, a point, a moral, should also seek to entertain in some way, and as “Don’t Look Up” approaches its ending, it sacrifices what little nuance it had for moments of karmic retribution and CGI destruction. It ends with the same level of intelligence as a Roland Emmerich disaster film despite dressing itself up like it's something better.

Adam McKay delivers yet another work of patronizing political satire that fails to both be funny enough to be a comedy or serious enough to impart its message. The film, at its core, isn’t going to change any minds because it's not good enough to change the minds of those who are ignoring the climate crisis and doesn’t provide enough lightness or new ideas for those who are already terrified. Even if McKay has ditched his typical visual calling cards that over-explain what’s happening on screen, the sheen of self-importance and patronizing hasn’t left. At one point, it almost makes you angry that McKay spent his time making a movie with millionaire actors telling us all how we’re doomed instead of taking his own money and maybe doing something more productive?

But that’s getting too far into semantics. We can argue about the point of a film like this for years, but at its core, we’re arguing about how effective it is rather than at the actual problem it's trying to draw attention to. It’s just not good enough to remove itself from criticism. It’s point might be noble, but that doesn’t mean it's automatically good. At least the musical score from Nicholas Britell (“The Big Short,” “Succession”) is supremely excellent though.

Some good music and performances can’t bring up a film that feels so blunt and self-important to elicit any feeling other than exhaustion and grief. The smaller moments, like the family dinner scene, are incredibly emotionally effective, but there simply isn’t enough of that. Everything good about the film gets crushed under the heavy handed tone of it all, leaving you feeling nothing but exhaustion. The best films, even the ones that you can’t bring yourself to watch more than once, should leave you with a sense that your time wasn’t wasted. All “Don’t Look Up” does is pat you on the back and go “well, what’s the point?” 2/5

The Matrix Resurrections - Review

 

If recent reports are to be believed, apparently a fourth Matrix film was going to happen with or without the involvement of any of the Wachowski’s. Given the Keanu-ssance that’s currently going on and the resurgence of many big name sci-fi franchises like “Blade Runner” and “Dune,” it seems like an obvious fit to bring back the neon-green computer world of the Matrix.

Yet, make no mistake, “The Matrix Resurrections” is not a reboot, and while it is a sequel, it has absolutely zero interest in playing nice with the typical nostalgic dreams most have when their favorite franchises return after years of slumber. A film like “Jurassic World” is the absolute antithesis to what “Resurrections” brings to the table, and it's clear that this is not a film for everyone, nor is it concerned with pleasing anyone but itself.

Picking up sixty years after the events of “Revolutions,” “Resurrections” has a lot going on. There are time loops, new characters, old characters, dreams, and visions, and therapy, and it would be a disservice to spoil what’s going on here in a review summary. Let’s just use a line from the film’s opening, “why use old code to make something new?” and leave it at that.

Because that one line speaks to not just the way co-writer/director Lana Wachowski (“Speed Racer,” “Sense8”) has approached returning to her and her sister’s original series, but how she and her co-writers, novelists David Mitchell and Aleksandar Hemon, view these homogenized years later studio sequels as a whole. It’s easy to get the impression that “Resurrections” hates that it has to exist, but that if it's going to exist, it's going to be in the most bizarre and original way it possibly can.

General audiences will likely be appalled by what they’re watching. Not that the film is grotesque or upsetting, but that it is so clearly and apparently putting a middle finger up at everything that they likely either expected or wanted from a Matrix sequel this long in the making. If a film like “No Way Home” thrives off of bringing back beloved characters and celebrating a character, “Resurrections” takes any potential of that and crushes it with its leather boot heel.

Its all both extremely subtle and not subtle at all. For better or worse Wachowski is taking as much budget and time as this opportunity allows her to make the biggest, messiest, and more sincerely honest film she possibly can. Those trans allegories that were in the first film? They’re on big full gay display here. The love story between Neo and Trinity that the first trilogy had in the background? It’s the lifeblood, nay the fuel that carries along this entire film.

Keanu Reeves (“Bill and Ted Face the Music,” “John Wick”) still shows that he knows how to bring his bizarre mixture of action movie badassery and sincere sweet guy charm to great effect. Carrie-Anne Moss (“Memento,” “Jessica Jones”) matches Reeves’s excellence, and the pair have chemistry and charm that hasn’t aged a day. Of the new cast members, all are fantastic, with Yahya Abdul-Mateen II (“Candyman (2021),” “The Trial of the Chicago 7”) and Jessica Henwick (“Iron Fist,” “Blade Runner: Black Lotus”) completely stealing the show. Abdul-Mateen II plays his new Morpheus with a big toothed grin and layer of charm and flamboyance that’s a delight to see, and Henwick’s Bugs proves to be an instant fan favorite, both embodying the pure badass energy the series has always had and as a surrogate for the young fans raised on the Wachowski’s action packed and empathetic works.

Yet, not enough can be said about Jonathan Groff (“Mindhunter,” “Hamilton”) and Neil Patrick Harris’s (“How I Met Your Mother,” “Dr. Horrible’s Sing Along Blog”) performances. The pair are positively electric, committing to the admittedly insane world of sci-fi seriousness that this franchise exists in. For all its grand talking points about philosophy and media and identity, “The Matrix” is still inherently silly, and Groff and Patrick Harris know this and use it to their full advantage. While this cast does a lot to bring these characters to life, it helps that Wachowski has such a clear love for this world and characters that she helped create two decades ago. This is not a film by a work-for-hire director, this is clearly the mother of these characters putting her soul into their portrayals, with love and empathy for everything that happens to them.

A great way to think of what “Resurrections” is, not just in this series but in the film making landscape as a whole, is that it lacks that big innovative thing that each of the previous “Matrix” films had. There is no bullet-time equivalent here, no grand use of technology to change the game. The fact that there isn’t, or that people will expect there to be, is even brought up and lampooned to great effect throughout the movie. Even the end credits scene wants to disparage the name of end credit scenes. Yet, don’t hear this and think of a Deadpool kind of snark, poking fun at media tropes whilst embracing them. This is a movie that wants to burn it all to the ground on its own terms, making no concessions for studio executives or decade long fans. After all, Warner Bros., the real company and not some weird pseudo stand in, exists within this film and not in a shiny nice way à la “Space Jam: A New Legacy.”

This is, after all, a grand romance focusing on two middle aged action stars disguised as “the next chapter” in a big budget series. What Lana Wachowski has made here is a film that must be seen to be believed and will likely be hated by a large majority of those who do see it. Maybe that was the point, to use this new film as a weapon of self-sabotage? That’s a pretty cynical way to look at it, and Lana is clearly far smarter than that. It’s a movie that uses the frustration that it has to exist to tell its story. It asks why, if it must exist, does it have to exist in this way. Why can’t it be brighter and bolder and bizarrer?

Whereas most other series will return with cold and calculated films that seek to simply churn out merchandise (and I say this as someone who has seen “No Way Home” four times and has loved it), “Resurrections” is an entirely different beast. It dares to be something human, something unapologetic. It’s packed with great performances and takes everything that ran under the surface of the original films and makes it unapologetically integral to its DNA. Even if you hate it, the best and clearest thing about “Resurrections” is that it was made by an artist with a goal in mind and no one to please but herself. 4.5/5

Sing 2 - Review

The mantra of “Let’s put on a show” has not only been around for decades upon decades, but might just be one of the noblest goals in all of entertainment. For as much is made of cinematic universes and serious “peak” TV, sometimes providing a good time is all that’s really required. This seems to be the mission statement of “Sing 2,” a followup to the 2016 animated hit from Illumination and writer/director Garth Jennings (“The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy,” “Son of Rambow”)

Following Buster Moon, voiced by Matthew McConaughey (“Dazed and Confused,” “Interstellar”) and his crew of performers from the New Moon Theatre, the film shows their attempts to put on a show stopping original musical for media mogul Jimmy Crystal, voiced by Bobby Cannavale (“Boardwalk Empire,” “Ant-Man”), in one of his hotels in Redshore City, a stand-in for Las Vegas. Buster must not only put on the show, but also track down reclusive musician Clay Calloway, voiced by Bono, who he lied about being in the show to get Crystal’s approval.

This is the overall plot but, like the first film, this is an ensemble piece featuring quite a few competing subplots involving the various members of Buster’s crew. There’s Rosita, voiced by Reese Witherspoon (“Legally Blonde,” “Walk the Line”), who is replaced in the show by Crystal’s untalented daughter Portia, voiced by Halsey. There’s also Johnny, voiced by Taron Egerton (“Kingsman: The Secret Service,” “Rocketman”), who struggles with the show complex choreography and un-helpful dance instructor and seeks outside help from streetwise dancer Nooshy, voiced by Letitia Wright (“Black Panther,” “Small Axe”). And there’s still more after that.

While the first film did have to establish every character and their motivations, it felt far cleaner than the second’s somewhat bloated plot. Apart from Ash the porcupine rock star, voiced by Scarlett Johansson (“Ghost World,” “The Avengers”) and her bonding with Calloway, each subplot seems relegated to backseat material for the most part. They do all connect in the third act in a sugary sweet way, but they’re the furthest thing from complex or nuanced.

Each of the voice actors does a commendable job, either those that carry over from the first film or that are new for this sequel. Bono isn’t exactly doing a lot of acting, but he gets the job done. The same goes for Halsey, who just seems to be there to be there. Eric André (“Man Seeking Woman,” “The Eric Andre Show”) does appear for a well-voiced comedic supporting character, and Chelsea Peretti (“Brooklyn Nine-Nine,” “Game Night”) as Suki, Crystal’s assistant, provides a calm, smooth voiced reprieve from the overly cartoony tones of the rest of the cast.

Honestly, the best part of the entire film might be Cannavale’s vocal performance as Crystal. He’s clearly having a lot of fun with the role, and the character’s attitude is far nastier than any from the first film, providing a welcome change of pace and also delivering as close to a legitimate threat as this sort of film could allow.

Because, let’s face it, even those who love the first film (like myself) can clearly tell that this is a downgrade. Going bigger and better than the first film has rarely resulted in higher quality material, and “Sing 2” clearly just wants to entertain. The songs flow fast and free, practically begging audiences to sing along and follow the bouncing ball. They are at least weaved into the narrative in the form of the musical though, so they aren’t purely superficial.

There’s also the typical blend of Illumination’s high quality animation. Their films will never boast the experimentation of Sony, the detail of Pixar, or the exuberance of Dreamworks, yet they never really aim to. It’s a clean, smooth look that serves their smaller stories, like “Sing 2”, well enough. Like the animation, Jennings never complicates the film more than it needs to, keeping the story moving along with all of its extra subplots and a steady pace of inspirational messages and family friendly jokes.

It all adds up as a film that’s serviceable. It’s not annoying or bad, but not anything special either. The first film had these sparks of genius in the little details, like how Meena the shy elephant had to write her request for an audition on her hand due to her anxieties. None of that details is here, leaving this sequel feeling like less of a well-rounded film than the first and instead resorting to being exactly what it looks like: a passably enjoyable collection of animated music videos with a loose story stringing them together.

That might sound harsh, and maybe it is, but “Sing 2” clearly just wants to be that. It wants to come up with a tale that has enough energy and space for as many show stopping numbers as possible. It peppers some inspirational moments throughout and its cast of voice actors are doing good work, but “Sing 2” really is the same type of show the characters in it are putting on: it’s just an excuse to put on a show and put a smile on its audience’s faces. In that it succeeds, even if it does so with merely the status quo. 3/5

Spider-Man: No Way Home - Review

 

Let’s talk about Spider-Man. Not just the character, but the series as a whole. If Tim Burton’s “Batman” and Richard Donner’s “Superman: The Movie” helped to catapult superhero films into the mainstream for their respective decades, Sam Raimi’s “Spider-Man” films did that for the 2000’s. It injected a new love of this type of film into the world and laid the groundwork for what would later come in the form of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Even the much less beloved, but still beloved, Marc Webb “Amazing Spider-Man” films had such a rabid fan base that their villain inclusion in “Spider-Man: No Way Home” is a cause for cheers. Because if “Avengers Endgame” was a celebration of the MCU and it’s accomplishments over the last 10 years, “Spider-Man: No Way Home” is a clear celebration of New York’s friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

Given that spoilers are a hot topic with MCU films, I’ll simply be recapping what has already been shown in the film’s trailers. After his identity was revealed to the world at the end of  “Far From Home,” Peter Parker, played by Tom Holland (“Onward,” “The Devil All the Time”), seeks out Doctor Strange, played by Benedict Cumberbatch (“Sherlock,” “The Imitation Game”), to help fix things since the revealing of his identity has inadvertently made life hell for his Aunt May, played by Marisa Tomei (“The Wrestler,” “My Cousin Vinny”), his girlfriend MJ, played by Zendaya (“euphoria,” “The Greatest Showman”), and best friend Ned, played by Jacob Batalon (“Every Day,” “Let It Snow”). However, after Parker botches Strange’s spell, villains from other universes begin to find their way into the MCU and it's up to Parker to fix his now even bigger mess.

It’s a deceptively simple idea and while it seems like it all serves as just an excuse to populate the film with previous fan favorite villainous performances, the script from Chris McKenna (“Community,” “The LEGO Batman Movie”) and Erik Sommers (“Community,” “The LEGO Batman Movie”) and pacing thanks to director Jon Watts (“Clown,” “Cop Car”), shows that was never the first goal. While it may be packed with moments that will make fans cheer, that does not equal fan service, as the emotional core still always comes back to Holland’s Peter Parker. It’s without a doubt the best performance of his in the MCU to date, and the trials he’s forced through help to showcase not only some of the best elements of Spider-Man as a character, but of why it's so easy to love him.

Of course the supporting cast is as great as always, Cumberbatch keeps his sly New Yorker bite in ample supply, Zendaya’s trademark snark and smirks are always appreciated, Batalon’s over eager friendliness with Peter is a delight, and Jon Favreau (“Iron Man,” “Chef”) returns as Happy Hogan, the MCU’s curmudgeonly wise cracker who’s always fun to see. If anyone struggles a bit, it's Tomei. Her performance is excellent, but she’s the one who seems to be given some of the more charitably difficult lines to deliver with complete sincerity and there are a few that squeak through that could’ve used a second take.

Yet, they are all overshadowed by the villains; they are beloved by fans for a reason. While some are a bit more forgettable, like Thomas Haden Church (“Sideways,” “Wings”) as Sandman and Rhys Ifans (“Elementary,” “Notting Hill”) as Lizard, it's clear why people love Alfred Molina’s (“Frida,” “Feud”) Doc Ock, Jamie Foxx’s (“Ray,” “Collateral”) Electro, and of course Willem Dafoe’s (“Heaven’s Gate,” “The Florida Project”) Green Goblin. Let it be said, Church and Ifans aren’t bad at all, it's just that their characters aren't utilized as much as Molina, Foxx, and Dafoe’s are.

Foxx is the weaker of the main three, still turning in a great performance but leaning more into the cheesier nature of it all. Meanwhile Molina and Dafoe play this like Shakespeare. The pair have always been at the top of many people’s best villains list and they bring their A game to “No Way Home.” Molina does play second fiddle to Dafoe though, who turns in an arguably Oscar worthy performance, twisting the entire role into one giant evil grin and delivering lines like only he can.

The action is a marked step up when compared to the previous films in Watts’s “Home” trilogy. It's clearer and easier to follow, with fewer split second cuts and edits than before. It might still have its fair share of big CGI fisticuffs, but it also knows when to pull back and not only let a fight be physical, but when to let it breathe and land in exactly the right way. Likewise the cinematography from Mauro Fiore (“Avatar,” “Dark Phoenix (2019)”) is also a step up, providing some shots that, while not offering anything groundbreaking, showcase a sense of grand scale when needed and manage to shoot the dialogue sequences in more than just shot-reverse shot.

What makes “No Way Home” work so well though is its commitment to celebrating not only Spider-Man but Peter Parker. The film doesn’t hold back and has plenty of harrowing emotional beats, including one of the more somber endings for an MCU film. But it all works because Watts, Sommers, and McKenna know how to pull this off while treating the audience and characters with respect. With a character as beloved as this, it's easy to smell when things are off, but here it all works so well. Even despite the multiversal implications of these other villains, it feels like a smaller scale story befitting of a friendly neighborhood wall-crawler.

It all certainly feels like the biggest movie of the year, and yet never loses that small scale feeling because of Holland and the film’s grounded emotional weight. It allows for those moments of reflection, of tears, and of pain. None of it would work if it didn’t, and this is what allows it to transcend into the realm of the MCU’s absolute best. Yes, we’re all here in the theatre because we want to see the characters we love on the big screen, but there has to be something more there. It’s been felt in years past with films like “Age of Ultron” and “The Dark World” when that emotional through line just isn’t there.

“Spider-Man: No Way Home” understands that and makes sure that, above all else, Parker’s journey is the central focus. Even underneath all the multiverse shenanigans and callbacks and quips and special effects. More than any of Watts’s previous “Spider-Man” films, “No Way Home” feels like it's a story about a kid from Queens dealing with extraordinary responsibilities. When anyone is handed a series or character as meaningful to countless people as this, that same kind of responsibility is obvious. Luckily, “No Way Home” knows this and makes sure that, even if it's for the fans, it isn’t about the fans, never losing sight of that kid from Queens, his emotional journey, and his great powers and their great responsibility. 4.5/5

Nightmare Alley (2021) - Review

For a man so positively in love with creatures one might describe as monstrous, Guillermo del Toro (“Pan’s Labyrinth,” “The Shape of Water”) clearly has a love for showing the evil side of humans more than anything. This is absolutely on display in “Nightmare Alley (2021),” a new adaptation of the classic noir novel and what might be del Toro’s first film to not feature any kind of actual non-human creatures, despite what the marketing might have you believe.

Instead it focuses on Bradley Cooper (“The Hangover,” “Guardians of the Galaxy”) as Stan Carlisle, a mentalist working at a traveling carnival with past demons he struggles with who eventually leaves the Carnie life with Molly Cahill the electric girl, played by Rooney Mara (“Carol,” “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (2011)”), to begin performing a mentalist act for the wealthy, eventually getting mixed up with a powerful tycoon Ezra Grindle, played with slimy calmness by Richard Jenkins (“The Shape of Water,” “The Cabin in the Woods”), and psychiatrist Lilith Ritter, played by Cate Blanchett (“The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring,” “Carol”).

There is truly a lot of deception at play throughout the entire film and it quickly becomes apparent that Stan is not a good man by any means. More than that though, it becomes apparent that this is not a film to watch for those who want to watch a man be redeemed. It’s a sad, tragic tale that borders on the horrific, following cycles of violence, abuse, and manipulation as some bad people get exactly what they deserve.

Unlike del Toro’s previous films, there’s not a monster in sight here, instead choosing to focus on the concept of manipulation and the falseness of the world Stan chooses to inhabit. Smartly though, del Toro never deliberately demonizes anyone. Even Stan is never implied by the film to be evil or to do horrible things until we the audience have realized it. del Toro and co-writer Kim Morgan don’t play their cards close to their chest necessarily, rather they just present the information to the audience in a straightforward manner, allowing them to draw their own conclusions about each character.

Not only is this a smart way to avoid spoon feeding the audience, but it allows the performances to shine through even more. It might feel like hyperbole, but for someone who’s never really done a lot of dramatic acting, Cooper is turning in what might be the best performance of his entire career. Carlisle is a twisted man but not without his own set of morals and charms. Watching his downfall becomes an enthralling experience as you simultaneously hate the man and also want him to stop, put down the tricks, and go build a better life for himself. It’s a truly baffling kind of tightrope walk that shouldn’t work, yet absolutely does thanks to del Toro’s skills as a director and Cooper’s incredible performance.

Cooper’s not the only one turning in excellent work of course. This is, more or less, an ensemble piece and everyone does excellent work. Blanchett is a chilling portrayal of femme fatale danger that easily matches Cooper’s commited natrue. Toni Collette (“Little Miss Sunshine,” “Hereditary”) and Willem Dafoe (“Heaven’s Gate,” “The Florida Project”) are Zeena and Clem Hoately, respectively, and both play up their Carnie lifestyles without losing their humanity, or in Dafoe’s case, twisted moral code for that Carnie lifestyle.

Jenkins plays against his typical soft older men types and ends up being a rather intense and chilling manipulator who might just be worse than Carlisle. Mara turns what could’ve easily been a damsel type role into something memorable and excellent, and despite disappointingly being the least used of the entire cast, Ron Perlman (“Hellboy (2004),” “Drive”) and Mark Piovinelli (“Mad Dogs,” “Sigmund and the Sea Monsters”) as Bruno and The Major, respectively, manage to be a wonderfully charming duo who could’ve seen far more screen time.

Like all of del Toro’s previous films, the production design and cinematography are immaculate. Each location has such a palpable feeling to it, with wood grain so polished and carnival tents so tattered you could practically smell them. Even simpler areas, like a wealthy Chicago dining room appear as some kind of otherworldly location thanks to Dan Laustsen’s (“The Shape of Water,” “Silent Hill (2006)”) camerawork. Even for a film with no supernatural elements, make no mistake, it still feels and looks like anything could jump out at any moment.

Which is why it feels so bad to say that the film does have one minor (or at least the source material does) flaw and one major flaw. The minor one is that even a director as skilled as del Toro can’t prevent this tale from feeling like two movies mushed into one. There’s the carnie life Carlisle lives and there’s the life after he leaves with Molly. Both are equally thrilling and engrossing, but they both feel segmented from each other in a way that never feels cohesive. And then there’s the length. For a film as slow and methodical as this, of course you’ll have to approach it on its own terms, but because so much of the film does focus on dark alleys and manipulation, it begins to feel a bit long in the tooth by the end of it all. It’s not an issue big enough to bring down the entire film but, coupled with the segmented nature of the story, it does make the prospect of rewatching feel like something that might be better suited with an intermission.

Yet, do not let this deter you. As what we have here is a tale so thrilling and engrossing, with a performance so enrapturing that it dares to overcome and all obstacles that might lay in its wake (That bit sounds better if you read it in a carnival barker’s voice). Guillermo del Toro continues to prove why he’s the best at these kinds of stories, and with Cooper delivering a career best performance with a more than capable ensemble and look to everything, “Nightmare Alley (2021)” remains a chilling and engaging noir creep fest, even if the length might deter some from the start. 4/5

West Side Story (2021) - Review

 

“They don’t make ‘em like they used to anymore” is one of the boldest lies in all of Hollywood. For one, nobody can ever really agree on how they used to make ‘em. But secondly, people do make ‘em like they used to, all the time. Case in point: Steven Spielberg's (“Raiders of the Lost Ark,” “E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial”) first musical, a new film adaptation of the classic Broadway smash hit, “West Side Story” is absolutely made like they used to. Which is to say, with heart, gumption, and bravado that likes of which will make your heart soar.

This is a tale that needs to introduction, but to put it briefly, the film follows rival gangs the Caucasian Jets, lead by Riff, played by Mike Faist (“Panic”), and the Puerto Rican Sharks, lead by Bernardo, played by David Alvarez (“American Rust”), as they clash after former Jets member and leader Tony, played by Ansel Elgort (“The Fault in Our Stars,” “Baby Driver”), and Bernardo’s little sister María, played by Rachel Zegler, fall in love. It's a classic tale, literally as it's based on Romeo and Juliet, and screenwriter Tony Kushner (“Munich,” “Angels in America”) doesn’t do anything too radical to shake things up for modern audiences.

The few changes that do exist are extremely smart and feel at home in the tale and world: for example, the young wannabe Jet who follows Tony around and is most often played by a girl who’s bemoaned because “girls can’t be Jets” is instead a trans male character played by Iris Menas in their film debut. It’s a change that’s subtle, one you’d never notice if you weren’t familiar with the source material, but makes so much sense in the year 2021.

Spielberg and Kusher make no qualms with this material. This isn’t the same sort of film as “Dear Evan Hansen” or Tom Hooper’s Les Miserables. With every sharp note, bright piece of technicolor clothing, or high kicking choreography, “West Side Story” is a musical through and through. There’s no hiding from it, and the energy on display bleeds into every single aspect of the picture. The opening moments of the film go without more than one or two words for as long as possible, and frankly it's electric.

That’s a trick used quite a bit here; moments where a scene will play out with no dialogue for as long as possible, just music and visuals. The dance is one such moment and it becomes an exhilarating experience because of it. Every single moment is filled with such a specific kind of larger than life enthusiasm. There are even moments where, either because of the lighting, color palette, film grain, etc. it feels as though you’re watching the original film, with that very particular 60s technicolor look.

Let’s not beat around the bush though, a musical with characters as beloved and larger than life like this would crumble if not performed well and the cast here is more than up to the task. Ariana DeBose (“The Prom,” “Schmigadoon!”) as Anita is a force of nature, plain and simple, commanding every scene whether sung or spoken. Alvarez is both a leader and also a caring brother, giving nuance to what could’ve easily been a stereotypical gang leader. Faist plays Riff as a wounded feral puppy kind of guy. He seems sweet and well meaning at his core, but as if the violence is the only way he knows how to express himself. Rita Moreno (“West Side Story (1961),” “Oz”) is also here, not reprising her role as María, obviously, but instead as Valentina, a warm and kind presence that helps to provide some perspective to the film’s events. The aforementioned Menas is also a delight, deployed at specific emotional moments as if they’re a surrogate sad-eyed puppy dog who elicits an almost immediate emotional response.

In as simple words as possible: in her film debut, Rachel Zegler is a revelation. While its easy to be cynical or worried about actors plucked right out of high school and shoved into a big leading role like this, clearly Spielberg made the right choice. She has all of María’s heart, her soul, her angst, spark, sadness, love. It’s the kind of role that feels not like an actor was born to play, but rather that they simply are that role. She is an absolute magnificent presence that won’t soon be forgotten in any way.

On the flip side, Elgort is good. He’s made better thanks to the cast around him, but his performance isn’t nearly as revelatory as Zegler’s. It doesn’t help that the character of Tony just has less to work with than María, so while he might be doing the best he can, the material has never been there to make Tony a standout performance. He’s fine, good even, and not remotely poor, just the weakest performance of the bunch.

How to shoot a film adaption of a Broadway musical is one of the most hotly debated topics in cinema. Some believe the best way is to animate it, to keep the high energy and fluidity of the live stage. While that hasn’t happened here, that fluidity is still maintained thanks to Spielberg and legendary cinematographer Janusz Kamiński’s (“Schindler’s List,” “Saving Private Ryan”) decision to avoid cuts as much as possible. Not that they aren’t there, this isn’t “Birdman,” but so many moments are heightened thanks to long takes of sweeping, moving camera shots. When Tony tries to convince Riff not to bring the gun to the rumble, a moment where the pair wrestle the gun to the ground and stare each other down could’ve easily been split into multiple shots and yet it's all one unbroken moment. Likewise, so many of the dances maintain their high energy and almost borderline fantasy nature because we see them all being done more or less unbroken. If ever you needed a way to show a lived-in, believable world and characters, this is the way to do it.

It's difficult to describe the kind of energy on display here that makes “West Side Story” such an absolute triumph. For every moment it goes on, it becomes more and more of a time capsule of the original stage production and not a remake of the 1961 film. The choreography is new and as high stepping as ever and, in a great decision, Spielberg has chosen not to subtitle any of the Spanish spoken throughout the film. It doesn’t take away at all from the story or make it harder to follow for those who don’t speak the language. Rather, it further enhances the world and provides even more material to showcase its exceptional cast, as even if you don’t understand it, the intentions and what’s being said is so exceptionally clear thanks to the emotion and acting on display.

Kushner has fleshed out the entire world, delivering a script rich with detail and wonderful dialogue at every turn. It's the rare musical where every line, spoken or sung, is a gem, and everything moves with such a brisk and deliberate pace that before you know it, it’s over, absolutely flying through its two-and-a-half-hour runtime. Yet, even with that much material, it's the kind of movie that leaves you wanting more, based purely on its resounding success and high quality.

This is not the Spielberg of the last two decades. Forget about “Ready Player One,” “The BFG,” or “The Post.” This is Spielberg at his most spell-binding and talented, a film more than worthy to go alongside works like “Saving Private Ryan,” “Catch Me If You Can,” and “Close Encounters of the Third Kind.” Even beyond the legendary director’s filmography, this new “West Side” is a proud tale: proud of the two heritages of display, proud of its beaming love story at the center, proud of its star-making performances, and most importantly, proud of being a musical. It’s hard to call a film like this, with charm and emotion and color practically pouring out of the silver screen and flooding the theatre, anything other than an absolute and monumental triumph. “They don’t make ‘em like they used to” is a bold faced lie. It's just a matter of matching the art with the artist. And that’s what Spielberg’s “West Side Story” is: art. 5/5

Red Rocket - Review

 

Why do we watch movies about bad people? It’s a question that’s tumbled over many a critic and viewers' minds for years. Because there’s always merit in any story being told. Sometimes there are stories that try to glorify a bad person, and we can learn from the mistakes of the film or it’s hubris. Sometimes a film tries to showcase just how pathetic someone is and we can either revel in their failures or shake our heads in pity.

Sean Baker’s (“The Florida Project,” “Tangerine”) latest film, “Red Rocket,” absolutely wants us to pity its main character. Sure, sometimes things happen that are out of his control, but at no point does it ever seem like he tries to better his own situation. Most people will likely be turned off by the film because of this, but for those willing to dive head first in there lies an absorbing and mystifying character study lead by two performers at the top of their game.

That terrible person referred to previously is Mikey Saber, played by Simon Rex (“Jack & Jill (1999),” “What I Like About You (2002)”), a former porn star who has run back to his hometown and to his ex-technically-still-married-to-him wife Lexi, played by Bree Elrod. While attempting to manipulate those around him to regain a financial foothold, he meets Raylee, who goes by the name Strawberry, played by Suzanna Son, a 17 year old high school senior who he begins dating and attempting to convince to come back to California with him and pursue a career in the adult entertainment industry.

Up front it's clear that Mikey is a terrible person. He’s manipulative, a sycophant through and through, the poster child for what many would refer to as a “suitcase pimp.” For those unfamiliar, a “suitcase pimp” is someone in the adult entertainment industry who lives off of the success of the female talent. They don’t have their own home, for example, instead staying at the residences of the various female talent they know. Mikey is absolutely that kind of guy, plain and simple.

Yet, he also possesses a kind of crafty resourcefulness that makes him a magnetic character. There’s just enough charisma seeping through to make you want him to do better. Simon Rex is clearly giving his all in a performance as difficult as this and it shows. Despite everything going on, you want him to somehow turn out better by the time credits roll. You want him to actually be in love with Raylee, despite the clear moral wrongness of the situation, and not just use her for potential career gains.

While Rex’s performance is a showstopper, the emotional pull of the film is his relationship with Raylee, and it wouldn’t be nearly as effective without Suzanna Son. She is, simply, a star. Even for a first film role, she’s so clearly in command of her own screen presence and comedic timing, dramatic beats, and perfect moments to play to the camera and the other characters. If Rex delivers a performance with a darkness undercutting everything, Son is a bright shining beam of pure light, with just a twang of sourness.

Not just in characters, Baker and co-writer Chris Bergoch (“The Florida Project,” “Tangerine”) create a space and story that feels immediately apparent. Before even seeing a landmark or hearing the name of a town, the sense of place is stark and lived in. There’s a fantastic sense of setting throughout, with giant factories with constantly  turned-on flood lamps contrasting against the flat emptiness of the Texas plains. It is such a fascinating location visually, and proves to be the perfect contrast to Mikey’s internal thoughts: not much going on long term, but the big light of ideas are always there.

It’s the kind of film that pulls emotionally so much that it teeters on becoming exhausting, but Baker and his crew are able to sell everything by the end. Even in the smaller moments, every character's beliefs and morals are communicated so perfectly. When Mikey says “When I have money, I’ll take care of you. I’ll even hold the door open for ya,” and then proceeds to hold the door open by walking through himself first and then awkwardly holding it open behind him, it tells you everything you need to know about him in one short moment.

“Red Rocket” is not for everyone, by any means. It sticks with the explicit nature of Baker’s previous films, as well as his focus on telling real stories about adult entertainment workers, but it lacks the sweetness of something like “Starlet,” the snark of “Tangerine,” or the innocence of “The Florida Project.” Instead, it replaces those with a character so fascinating in his pure idiocy that you can’t help but watch. You don’t want to pity him, but you know you will by the end as he fails spectacularly to improve his life. Rex sells the entire thing, and Son constantly steals the show out from under him even despite his excellence. Is it a film for everyone? No. But it's nevertheless a constantly fascinating film regardless. 4.5/5

Being the Ricardos - Review

 

Aaron Sorkin’s (“The Social Network,” “A Few Good Men”) biggest mistakes and biggest hits all have something to do with show business. “Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip,” arguably his most maligned work, was a show about the behind the scenes of an SNL style comedy show. “Steve Jobs” followed the titular man as he prepared for three stage presentations that were almost like rehearsed monologues. Love it or hate it, his HBO series “The Newsroom” is at its best when it's focusing on putting on a newscast. Even “Moneyball” and “The Social Network” have elements of showmanship inherently in their DNA.

Which makes him the perfect choice to tackle “Being the Ricardos,” a film following the production of “I Love Lucy” and the relationship between its star Lucille Ball, played by Nicole Kidman (“Big Little Lies,” “The Hours”) and her husband, co-star, and one of the brains behind the show Desi Arnaz, played by Javier Bardem (“No Country for Old Men,” “Skyfall”). And there’s definitely a very Sorkin-esque turning point in their careers that’s the perfect basis for the film: midway through production on the second season of “Lucy,” Lucille was suggested to be a communist on Walter Winchell’s radio show, and the film follows the next week of production as the team struggles to write and prepare for the Friday's episode while wondering when, or if, the other shoe will drop and America will turn on Lucille.

It’s a big dramatic turn of events, and as the film’s basis it works wonderfully well. It allows us in the heads of the cast, pushes Desi and Lucille’s relationship, showcases their butting heads with CBS and their sponsors, and hits home the stress inherent in putting on a show, even a comedy show, that could end in a moment’s notice if the audience gets fickle. Since we’re focusing on the production of that week’s episode, it also means that each member of the production gets a moment, even if it's brief, to shine. Alia Shawcat (“Arrested Development,” “Search Party”) playing Madelyn Pugh, one of the show’s writers, and Tony Hale (“Arrested Development,” “VEEP”) playing Jess Oppenheimer, one of the show’s writers and producers, get a chance to shine because of this, and it really does have a swell, old fashioned “let’s put on a show” vibe to everything. And if that were the entire film, it would be a solid piece of entertainment world drama.

Yet, somewhere along the line, it seems as though either Sorkin or the studio got cold feet. Because the communism plot is only about two-thirds of the film. The other third is made up of two things, one more baffling than the other: a series of extremely cliché “How they met” biopic scenes that are so textbook they could be stock footage and a series of scripted fake current interviews with three of the “I Love Lucy” writers we see as their younger selves in the communism plot looking back on the events of that week.

These two additions are truly baffling as the film has a complete three act plot already at its center. The “Is Lucille a communist” subplot is the perfect subject of the film, and nowhere is this more obvious than when looking at the film’s structure. All of the fake interview and flashback sequences could be cut out of the film cleanly as they have no major bearing on the communism plot. Yes, interviews technically begin and end the film, but if these moments were cut out, it would actually improve both the beginning and ending a bit.

Which is unfortunate. It’s one thing when a film is so flawed that you just have to throw your hands up and accept it. It’s another when it's flawed but the flaws seem so easily fixable. Cut some stuff out, tighten the film up, and you have something that’s immediately improved. Yet, even if these moments were excised from the film, it wouldn’t immediately make it a perfect piece.

At his best, Sorkin’s dialogue style allows for intense moments of back and forth conversations and monologues that leave an impact, practically begging college theatre kids to use them as audition monologues. At his worst though, Sorkin’s writing can seem like a parody of itself, falling flat when it clearly wants to hit it big. “Being the Ricardos” has both, and while the good wins out over the bad, the bad is more noticeable.

There are plenty of heated arguments between Desi and Lucille that feel like verbal jousting, and Sorkin’s vision of Lucille has all of the wit she clearly had on the show. Yet, the film is also peppered with some “inspiration” sequences when Lucille imagines a scene playing out as she reads the script. It’s a fun idea, and it's been used in numerous films about great creatives before. Yet, its one thing to see how Amadeus imagines a piece of music to be. It’s another to watch a dramatic version of Lucy suddenly and immediately imagining the grape stomping scene.

What’s here isn’t all bad, far from it. While it can be too self-serious, there’s still a warm amber glow to everything, bolstered by a game cast and sense of momentum. It’s unfortunate that it’s brought down by choices that, frankly, feel like the work of a nervous studio or director rather than someone as confident in their writing as Sorkin usually is. It brings the project down to the point where it drags for a third of the film. Maybe sometime in the future, a fan somewhere online will edit those interviews and flashbacks out to create the definitive version, much like fans have done with the “Star Wars” films. But until then, this is a film that, for better or worse, resembles a television show. Great material interrupted by hammy boring bits every so often. Just treat these moments like commercials, and fast forward through them. 2.5/5

Resident Evil: Welcome to Raccoon City - Review

 

Even amongst the most maligned genre that is the video game movie, Paul W.S. Anderson’s Resident Evil series has been… well, to put it plainly, just bad to say the least. That’s why the prospect of a reboot is so refreshing for series fans, as even a bad film that at least looks like its source material would be welcome. Well, fans got what they wished for, as “Resident Evil: Welcome to Raccoon City” is absolutely far more faithful to the source material while also embracing the 90s aesthetic and cheese of the first two games to be the most fun you can have with a film that’s also a pile of hot garbage.

Following a cast of series mainstays, the film takes place on one night in 1998 in Raccoon City, a town founded by the Umbrella Corporation for its workers to live in. The film follows two groups; a collection of Special Tactics and Rescue Service (STARS) members consisting of Jill Valentine, played by Hannah John-Kamen (“Ant-Man and the Wasp,” “Killjoys”), Chris Redfield, played by Robbie Amell (“Upload,” “The Tomorrow People”), and Albert Wesker, played by Tom Hopper (“The Umbrella Academy,” “Black Sails”), among others as they investigate a disappearance at the Spencer Mansion on the outskirts of Raccoon City and a small team of Claire Redfield, played by Kaya Scodelario (“Skins,” “The Maze Runner”) and Leon S. Kennedy, played by Avan Jogia (“Zombieland: Double Tap,” “Victorious”) as they attempt to escape from the city before it is destroyed.

For anyone even remotely familiar with the games, this plot will seem immediately familiar as it is essentially the first and second games squished into one narrative. It alternates back and forth at a decent pace and different characters overlap with each other in interesting ways, delivering the greatest hits of arguably the series’ best games for those who don’t want to pick up a controller.

The cast does a fairly decent job bringing these beloved characters to life, putting enough of a spin on things to make them feel distinct from their game counterparts without forgetting what made them so beloved in the first place. The STARS crew all chew the scenery plenty during their adventure, delivering their big action star moments with bravado and cheese, hamming it up to deliver some dialogue that must be heard to be believed.

Meanwhile Scodelario and Jogia prove to be much closer to the film’s heart and soul. The pair have great chemistry and maintain a decent level of emotional investment while not being above an eye roll as a character spouts a particularly cheesy line. Make no mistake, they, like the STARS crew, are hamming it up at every turn, fully embracing the 90s vibe that the film encapsulates. None of these performances could be called great, but they’re all extremely entertaining.

That right there is how to describe this film. It does everything it possibly can to provide an entertaining experience over a particularly good one. No one ever would have expected “Welcome to Raccoon City” to win any awards, and so its as if writer/director Johannes Roberts (“47 Meters Down,” “The Strangers: Prey At Night”) just said “fuck it” and made a film so absolutely in love with Resident Evil as he is. Watching Neal McDonough (“Desperate Housewives,” “Captain America: The First Avenger”) not only play William Birkin, but deliver some of his fantastic mad scientist ravings is a Resident Evil fan's dream come true.

It embraces how weird the series is at its core. Yes it's about zombies, but there’s also corporate mutilation, mansions filled with puzzles, a town being poisoned, the world’s worst orphanage, and many more twisted bizarre elements that the label of “zombie game” just don’t do justice. Roberts tries his best to bring as many of them to the big screen as possible, with wildly varying degrees of success. The iconic RPD building? Lisa Trevor? The Orphanage? The piano in Spencer Mansion? All brought to life wonderfully in a way that will do series fans damn proud. The Lickers? Really anything in CGI? Not so much.

This is a film that thrives on its cheese, throwing logic out the window to provide a simple, fun time for all. Is it good? Well, that’s open to interpretation. It's sure as hell entertaining, but good is another thing entirely. The script manages to pack in so many hammy one liners, game references, and 90s references in to 100 minutes that it can be dizzying. Its best elements are those pulled straight from the games, as the ones made up for the film, like the changes to Claire and Chris’s backstory, just feel confusing when shoehorned into the rest of the game’s narrative.

What “Welcome to Raccoon City” is, as a film, is pure and total cheese. This is a film that just wants to have a good time, and packs itself to the gills with hammy acting and dialogue, lavish sets that seem as if they’re taken directly from the games, and an overall sense of sneaking self awareness that permeates the entire project. For fans, it’s a damn good time that knows how to cheese and please in equal measure. Is it good? More than that, can those who don’t love the games enjoy it too? Well, for that, your mileage may vary. 2.5/5

House of Gucci - Review

 

Given that this is his second theatrical release of 2021, Ridley Scott () is clearly having a bit of a moment. He’s never really disappeared from the film-making landscape, unlike some other directors, and really the longest gap between films for him was actually between 2017, where he also directed two films in one year, and 2021. Yet, like 2017, one of his 2021 films was critically lauded and will likely be a focus of the year’s awards circuit. That film, unfortunately, is not “House of Gucci.”

In simplest of terms, and we’ll get into why it's hard to describe the plot more later, “House of Gucci” centers on Patrizia Reggiani, played with thick cartoonish accents and a borderline actual cat’s purr by Lady Gaga (“A Star is Born (2018),” “American Horror Story: Hotel”), and her marriage to Maurizio Gucci, played with thick rimmed glasses nerd chic by Adam Driver (“Marriage Story,” “Star Wars: The Last Jedi”), and the ensuing power struggle within the Gucci family, such as patriarchal uncle Aldo, played by Al Pacino (“The Godfather,” “The Irishman”), and oddball cousin Paolo, played by Jared Leto (“Blade Runner 2049,” “Dallas Buyers Club”), for their fashion empire, a struggle set off in no small part by Patrizia.

There is a lot going on here, and the film’s ample two-hour-and-thirty-eight minute runtime doesn’t do it any favors. Throughout the entire film there’s murder, sex, greed, drugs, theft, lawsuits, bribery, extortion, etc. Just another day in the life of a rich and powerful family, and yet somehow that length saps every bit of tension from the film. So much of the film could easily be cut with no effect on the actual ending. It’s clear that Patrizia and Maurizio’s romance turned power struggle is the central conflict, and yet so much time is spent on other things.

It’s great that Scott wants to show us as much as possible, but even as the old adage “show, don’t tell” is typically applicable, there are also times you can just tell. It’s hard to tell who’s fault this would be, whether blame lays on Scott as director or Becky Johnston (“The Prince of Tides,” “Seven Years in Tibet”) or Roberto Bentivegna as writers, but there’s just too much going on. It’s too long, with too many subplots, and too many scenes for each plot. There are clear areas where things could simply be cut off and easily slice 15-20 minutes from the run-time.

However, this problem is further exacerbated by the fact that what’s here still has some massive gaps in plot. At one point, after being constantly told throughout the film that Maurizio wants to run Gucci well, and doesn’t want to get into financial troubles like his cousin or uncle. Then, suddenly, two-thirds through the film his house is raided by financial police and he escapes into the snowy mountains on a motorbike. We never see anything prior to this that would give any indication that he’s had a change of heart or spending. It just happens out of nowhere. When the reason for the ransacking is finally given, it's less of a tense moment and more of an exacerbated “really?”

But that’s only the plot, let’s not forget the performances carrying this script through. Love or hate her, Gaga absolutely will throw herself into her cherry-picked film roles, and this is no exception. She speaks with bravado and thick accents, with hand movements so exaggerated they would make any Manhattan deli owner blush. At times, her vocal purr is so pronounced, you’d think she was auditioning for “Cats” two years too late. It’s definitely a big performance, yet it's hard to say if it's good or not.

Driver, thankfully, plays things a bit straighter. His Maurizio is one that constantly flips between loving and hating. For every moment of awkward nerdy chic, with a toothy grin and hand-waving of the Gucci fame and fortune, there are moments that seem sinister, as if for his entire life he’s been planning the downfall and events of the film. It’s a fabulous double edged sword and is yet another in a line of recent roles from Driver where he seems committed to playing horrible men.

The film’s supporting cast, though, are all playing on Gaga’s level. Leto is absolutely cranking it up to 11, turning in a performance that suggests he was possibly told the film was a comedy, not a drama. Pacino is a delightfully scummy uncle figure that relishes in the excess and is simply having a blast. Jeremy Irons (“Dead Ringers,” “Batman vs. Superman: Dawn of Justice”), while not in the film much, is a sobering quiet bright spot, showing how to play big without losing the realism or audience in the farce. Salma Hayek (“Frida,” “The Hitman’s Bodyguard”) plays Patrizia’s friend and confidant, television psychic Giuseppina “Pina” Auriemma, and she’s the straight man to Gaga’s Patrizia, constantly coming off as the more grounded, level headed one compared to her, despite often being surrounded by tarot cards and spell candles.

It's the kind of cast that seems like they should work because, like everything else in the film, on paper they’re genius. Yet, the execution is everything, and “House of Gucci” can’t figure out what kind of tone it wants to have. There are moments of huge excess, of staring at Lady Gaga trying on outfit after outfit, dancing around a Gucci store, of giant apartments and 50 foot tables of food looking out over Italian waters. It's the kind of excess that’s inherently comical, and while the film does try to dive into those elements, it wants to have its cake and eat it too. Everything is at its best when its playing those elements up, embracing the camp and the inherent joy in watching Gag chew out a former lover of Maurizio’s in a puffy white winter coat while drinking coffee at a ski lodge, yet that campy tone is never kept consist and eventually fades away entirely.

“House of Gucci” so badly wants to take its characters seriously, except when it doesn’t. Moments like characters discussing hit-men whilst smearing mud on each other's faces or arresting someone at the pickle-ball court come off as inherently silly but played extremely seriously. Scott and the writers want us to laugh at these characters but also take their plights to heart. It’s the opposite of something like “Succession,” which always, without fault, plays its characters to be morally reprehensible. You aren’t supposed to like them, so you don’t. “House of Gucci” wants you to hate them and their excess, yet also wants you to care deeply about everything that happens to them and it simply doesn’t work.

Of course, as if it even needed to be said, the film looks gorgeous. Yet, even that can’t be said without an asterisk. Every moment of rich European countryside or lavish mansions and cities looks beautiful, creating a sort of vacation destination highlight reel for those who want to one day be rich and famous. Yet, even as these beautiful people in beautiful clothes walk through beautiful cities, the film’s color palette is so washed out it's hard to see it all as beautiful. Maybe that’s the point, to showcase these gorgeous things in such ugly colors that it, no pun intended, shows their true colors, but it's too washed out at times. Case in point, early on the film switches to black and white for a moment, and you’d be hard pressed to notice when it happens given the already dull colors of the film up to that point.

“House of Gucci” is a fascinatingly mixed bag. Nothing about it is entirely bad, save for the pacing and run-time, and it creates this bizarre sense of duality. It's enjoyable, but not good. It has entertaining performances, but not good or great ones. It’s fabulous to look at, but also equally ugly. Watching “House of Gucci” can most closely be compared to walking into a Gucci store as someone who makes less than seven figures a year; it's gorgeous, yet exhausting and laughable. It’s fun for a spell, but not something you’d recommend to friends, nor something you’d want to go back to anytime soon. 3/5

Encanto - Review

 

You might expect Walt Disney Animation to pull out all the stops for their 60th animated feature, yet “Encanto” is a fairly routine Disney affair on the surface. Great songs, great animation, and a slightly more complicated than your average fair story. Yet, “Encanto” has far more going on under the hood than one might initially think, resulting in a film that prioritizes emotion over everything else and resulting in Disney’s best animated film since “Zootopia.”

Focusing on the family Madrigal, the film follows Mirabel as she struggles with being the only member of her family without a fantastical gift while also being the only one who notices their sentient house Casita beginning to break down. It's refreshing that, despite a pair of star-studded leads in Stephanie Beatriz (“Brooklyn Nine-Nine,” “Short Term 12”) as Mirabel and John Leguizamo (“Ice Age,” “Carlito’s Way”) as estranged uncle Bruno, most of the cast consists of Latina stars who would be otherwise widely unknown to American audiences.

It gives the project an energy of authenticity and helps to further flesh out the world through their delivery. María Cecilia Botero (“La Bruja,” “Nuevo rico, nuevo pobre”) voices Abuela Alma Madrigal, the family’s matriarch and leads the film as much as the character leads the family, and the rest of the cast consists of Mauro Castillo, Jessica Darrow (“Feast of the Seven Fishes”), Angie Cepeda (“Love in the Time of Cholera,” “Pobre Diabla”), Carolina Gaitán (“Sin senos sí hay paraíso,” “Isa TK+”), Diane Guerrero (“Orange is the New Black,” “Doom Patrol”) Wilmer Calderrama (“That 70’s Show,” “NCIS”), Adassa, Rhenzy Feliz (“Marvel’s Runaways”), and Ravi-Cabot Conyers (“#blackAF”). Given that the film focuses on a family as its central plot and conflict, each vocal performance is integral and thankfully excellent. There’s not a weak link here, either in regular speech or singing voice.

Speaking of music, Lin-Manuel Miranda (“In the Heights,” “Hamilton”) has contributed both to the story of the film and has written eight original songs for the film. Each song has a different sort of flavor, flowing between grand musical gestures. The opening track “The Family Madrigal” has a larger than life Broadway flavor to it,  with later tracks like “We Don’t Talk About Bruno” and “Surface Pressure” having a more spoken word gossip and rap flavor, respectively.

Sure, the music sounds great, but the ways they’re presented in the film feel far more physical than in previous Disney works. There’s a lot more specific looking choreography in this film, and while the opening is more of a flowing, “walking around town” kind of Disney opener, later tracks like “Bruno” or “Pressure” have specific kinds of dances. It gives these moments very certain moods, making sure the audience understands the emotions behind them not just through the music, but through the movement as well.

Beatriz and Leguizamo might be more well known for comedic roles, but the pair have excellent chemistry here in some of the film’s darker moments. Leguizamo in particular is excellent throughout the film, and is likely the breakout performance, overpowering the extreme optimism and heart of Beatriz’s Mirabel.

This is, once again, another Disney animated feature without a strict antagonist, following in the more metaphorical footsteps of works like “Ralph Breaks the Internet” and “Frozen 2.” While both of those films had issues with this concept, “Encanto” embraces the free form nature of this kind of internalized conflict. It’s a very talky film, one of the most of any recent Disney film, and a majority of the film centers around trying to solve the mystery at the core of it all. It creates a fun journey as we follow Mirabel along, trying to piece things together alongside her.

It's weird to say, given that Disney films have never really been lacking in emotion, but “Encanto” feels like their heaviest and most emotion forward film in quite a while. The focus on family and the issues and loves therein is palpable since we genuinely buy the love between all of these characters. This isn’t even getting into the various metaphorical themes at play with Mirabel not receiving a gift from the family’s magic and feeling ostracized because of it.

Of course, given the massive budget and an environment like Columbia to pull inspiration from, the entire film is a colorful, gorgeous work of art from start to finish. Each location is brimming with different texture details, and the moments when the art style shifts for specific songs make big impacts. Casita the house may not have a voice, but their presence is definitely felt throughout, thanks to some wonderfully clever uses of objects and animation on a grander scale.

The last time Disney Animation Studios broke from their sequel or princess films was with 2016’s “Zootopia” and it was without a doubt their best film in years. The same is true here, as “Encanto” embraces the musical genre with life and color. The physicality of both the animation and musical numbers is something Disney doesn’t typically do and adds so much here. A more complex than normal narrative and emotional core lends some brains to this animated outing and helps to lift “Encanto” up as one of the Mouse House’s easiest to recommend in quite a while 5/5