Babylon - Review

 

In this age of sequels, reboots, remakes, adaptations, and franchises, the phrase “go big or go home” becomes more and more understandable with each wunderkind director getting to make their big-budget original film. Damien Chazelle (“Whiplash,” “La La Land”) isn’t exactly a subtle filmmaker, but even by his standards, “Babylon” certainly is the biggest (and the most) movie he’s made yet.

Set in the late 1920s, specifically during the transition from silent films to talkies, the film follows an ensemble cast of Margot Robbie (“I, Tonya,” “Birds of Prey”) as Nellie LaRoy, an aspiring film actress, Diego Calva (“Narcos: Mexico,” “I Promise You Anarchy”), as Manny Torres, an assistant who dreams of a larger role in the film industry, Brad Pitt (“Bullet Train,” “Ocean’s Eleven (2001)”) as Jack Conrad, an aging silent film star, Li Jun Li (“Quantico,” “Wu Assassins”) as Lady Fay Zhu, a burlesque singer and title card artist, Jovan Adepo (“Overlord,” “When They See Us”) as Sidney Palmer, a trumpet player for various Hollywood parties, and Jean Smart (“Hacks,” “Designing Women”) as Elinor St. John, a sensationalist journalist for various Hollywood magazines.

At three hours long and featuring a moment involving an elephant and some feces that would make the Jackass guys blush in the first ten minutes, “Babylon” makes a very specific statement right at the start: this ain’t gonna be a movie for everyone. It’s extravagant nature and large-scale story might seem like the kind of tale that could be enjoyed by all, but as Damien himself put it “this is a love letter to cinema and a hate letter to Hollywood.” It sticks to its guns the entire way though, never faltering from this very specific viewpoint and tone. If nothing else, it’s consistent and committed to its vision.

Robbie is absolutely incredible. This is easily the performance of her career, a character of impeccable excess and emotional distress, constantly battling with herself and her dream job, with her dreams and the studio forcing her into a box to attempt to achieve those dreams. She’s powerful in virtually every scene, consistently hilarious, and an enigmatic beauty that seems destined to live in the minds of her film’s audiences forever. Diego is also excellent, and while more nuanced of a performance than Robbie’s, he nevertheless proves to be an equally compelling character as he delves through various moral dilemmas in his quest for recognition in the industry he loves.

Pitt is also great, although his character has various shades of other films in his storyline making him just a bit less compelling compared to the others. Adepo is an absolute heartbreaking delight, as he’s clearly one of the smartest people in the room most of the time with no one to actually take him seriously. As Sidney’s takes off, the tale turns sour in ways unexpected but always grounded thanks to Adepo’s performance. The same goes for the absolute scene-stealer that is Jun Li, completely running away with the film despite being in a fraction of it. She, like Robbie, perfectly balances the emotional core of her arc with the film’s extravagant excess to fantastic results.

“Babylon” is also the kind of movie wherein every performance shines through. It’s a true ensemble piece in that way. Olivia Hamilton (“First Man,” “Don’t Worry, He Won’t Get Far on Foot”) might only be onscreen for fifteen minutes as LaRoy’s longtime director Ruth Adler, but she nevertheless feels like a featured player thanks to the fantastic script from Chazelle and the blood, sweat, and tears each actor pours into their performances.

Chazelle’s script, like the film’s graphic content, definitely isn’t for everyone. It’s proudly unsubtle, but not in a dumb way. Alternatively, it feels like he felt as though, given the excess of Hollywood, subtly has no place in a story like this. Therefore, plenty of moments, including the heartbreaking climax of Sidney Palmer’s arc, are presented with hardly any subtlety or pomp and circumstance. It’s in those very specific moments where Chazelle allows the music, the glitz and glamour to fade away and leave just his actors and their material to make a statement. Even in the end, after the much-discussed final montage, the last thing you see isn’t the montage, it’s Manny’s face staring off into the distance, telling us everything we need to know.

Regardless of your thoughts on the film’s content, the technical aspects are ridiculously excellent. This is yet another movie from Chazelle score by Justin Hurwitz (“La La Land,” “Whiplash”) and his thumping music not only serves to frame the film’s flamboyant moments well, but also provide a great score for the softer moments. With a slow organ grinder sound, it feels like a cool glass of water in the midst of the hot sweaty events of the rest of the film.

Shot by Linus Sandgren (“No Time to Die,” “La La Land”), the film’s cinematography has a similar effect, going for plenty of quick and crazy movements where appropriate, and dialing into a more intimate, claustrophobic style when needed. It frames the film’s incredible sets and costumes with a gold-colored glasses and feels like a window into a bygone era in the best way.

That window gets progressively more cracked as things go on, and it becomes very clear what kind of movie Chazelle is making here. A tale about love, so often it puts its characters on display dealing with rejection and their intense love of their art in various ways. Some will stumble and fall and succeed, but it never doesn’t feel genuine.

There’s just something intoxicating about a film like this, and if you’re in its target demographic, it can feel like a borderline hypnotic experience. To editorialize for a moment, at one point about two-thirds in, a character walks into a tunnel and my screening glitched for a moment. However, I don’t actually know if that was a glitch or if that was an intentional moment from Chazelle to punctuate the transition into the world within this tunnel. But the fact that I even for a moment thought that was a possibility speaks to the kind of film he’s crafted.

“Babylon” is a divisive film with an incredibly specific vision and an impossibly intoxicating vibe. It’s hard to say if Chazelle’s entire career has been building to this moment, but this feels like a response to someone watching “La La Land” and saying to him “Now tell me how you really feel.” Robbie is giving the best performance of her career, and the entire rest of the cast headlines a movie with incredible technical merits and storytelling flare. If nothing else, this is an uncompromised film from a director who’s earned it in such a short time. Whether or not it’s for you, only you can say. But there isn’t a film like it this year and hasn’t been in quite some time. 5/5

Women Talking - Review: A Movie Everyone Should Be Talking About

 

Despite the seeming lack of visual flair, with a good script, even a film consisting entirely of people talking can be some of the most engrossing and thrilling cinema out there. It’s been shown time and again and now writer/director Sarah Polley (“Take This Waltz,” “Alias Grace”) has adapted Miriam Toews’s novel “Women Talking” into a thrilling and powerfully acted work of dialogue, sisterhood, and solidarity.

Set in 2010, the film follows a group of Mennonite women who discover that the men of their community have been using animal tranquilizers to drug and rape them in their sleep. After some of the men leave to bail out those arrested, the women decide to convene and discuss what to do: to stay and do nothing, to stay and fight back, or to leave.

Featuring a stacked ensemble cast with the likes of Jessie Buckley (“Chernobyl,” “i’m thinking of ending things”), Rooney Mara (“The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo,” “Carol”), Claire Foy (“First Man,” “Unsane”), Ben Wishaw (“Paddington,” “Skyfall”), Frances McDormand (“Fargo,” “Nomadland”), and Sheila McCarthy (“The Umbrella Academy,” “Die Hard 2”) to just name a few, the film is at its most powerful and fascinating when it simply focuses on the internal strifes and differing values of these women. Yes, the title is literal, there is a lot of women talking. But it gives way to some truly powerhouse performances from virtually everyone involved. Buckley and Foy particularly absolutely steal the entire film, but don’t mistake singling them out for damning anyone else with faint praise.

Given the simplistic nature, the film’s usage of color and even its aspect ratio feel taught and purposeful. It’s washed out, but there’s still moments of stark beauty and color which, coupled with the claustrophobic framing, lends a kind of hidden beauty to the film. It shines through despite the circumstances around it, sometimes in spite of. It’s all set to a gorgeous score from composer Hildur Guðnadóttir (“Joker,” “Tár”) that, plain and simple, elevates material that was already fantastic to begin with.

It’s in the discussions where the most interesting aspects of the film lie. Bringing up the conflicting ideas of fighting and violence, the condemning of the men, and singling out certain others. The presence of Wishaw’s character, for example, has a lingering ode over the entire discussion. They need him to dictate as none of the women can write, but few of them actually want him there. These themes of masculinity and, to simplify it greatly, who “the good men are” are further explored with the character of Melvin, played by August Winter (“Mary Kills People,” “Between”), a member of the community who was raped and afterwards began to identify as a young male within the community.

There’s almost a privilege to the film that Polley expertly displays thanks to the intimacy of it all. Yes, this is a public forum for these women, but the shooting style and ferocity makes it feel as though we’re watching something secretive, that we possibly shouldn’t be seeing so openly. It lays the emotions bare. So often we see “talking” films made and criticized for being somewhat boring due to their dialogue heavy nature. But Polley expertly lets the acting take the center stage, letting the performances strengthen the already fantastic script to bolster the rest of the film.

Maybe it’s weird to say given that it is just a movie about women talking, but there is a kind of magic to watching it. Getting to peek behind such a monumental moment in these women’s lives, and it feels special. It feels mountainous by the end of things, accomplishing a lot but also giving the sense like you’re looking into almost a dream like state of happening.

“Women Talking” feels like a trick, a spell of a film. Yes, it consists entirely of standing around and talking, and yet it is somehow one of the most gorgeous looking and beautifully constructed films of the year, packed with stellar performances and a musical score that will transport you. There’s an ethereal nature to it all that makes it feel truly unlike any other film of its ilk and of this year. 5/5

Puss in Boots: The Last Wish - Review

 

After years trapped in development hell, multiple scrapped story ideas, and two studio buyouts of its animation studio later, the sequel to the 2011 “Shrek” spin-off film is here. From its first trailer, “Puss in Boots: The Last Wish” dazzled with a new watercolor painting inspired visual style. But is this sequel more than a decade later more than just a pretty kitty face?

Directed by Joel Crawford (“The Croods: A New Age”) and written by Paul Fisher (“The Croods: A New Age,” “The LEGO Ninjago Movie”), Tom Wheeler (“Puss in Boots (2011),” “The LEGO Ninjago Movie”), and Tommy Swerdlow (“Cool Runnings,” “The Grinch (2018)”), the film follows the titular hero Puss in Boots, voiced by Antonio Banderas (“Pain & Glory,” “The Mask of Zorro”), who, after losing eight of his nine lives, decides to seek out the fabled wishing star in the hopes of using the wish to regain his nine lives. Accompanied by Perrito, voiced by Harvey Guillén (“Werewolves Within,” “What We Do in the Shadows (2019)”), he must also outrun the criminal gang of Goldilocks, voiced by Florence Pugh (“Don’t Worry Darling,” “Midsommar”), and the three bears; Mama, Papa, and Baby, voiced by Olivia Colman (“The Favourite,” “Heartstopper”), Ray Winstone (“Beowulf,” “Black Widow”), and Samson Kayo (“Famalam,” “Our Flag Means Death”) respectively, as well as his old flame Kitty Softpaws, voiced by Salma Hayek (“Once Upon a Time in Mexico,” “The Hitman’s Bodyguard”), Big Jack Horner, voiced by John Mulaney (“Documentary Now!,” “Big Mouth”), all while being hunted by a mysterious deadly wolf, voiced by Wagner Moura (“Narcos,” “Elysium”).

While the visual style is the most distinctly noticeable thing at first glance, arguably the film’s most impressive accomplishment is its emotional maturity. The tale is all about Puss on the run from death, attempting to regain his past glories, and there are multiple moments where the emotional toll on him is shown. None of these moments ever feel dumbed down or childish either, such as a sequence in a haunted forest with Perrito wherein Puss has a panic attack. It’s clear that the emotional core of the film and each character was taken very seriously, and it makes for a more engaging film as a result.

Helping that emotional core are the stellar vocal performances. Hayek and Guillén are great and play really well off of Banderas, but he truly steals the show. Given how many films he’s done as Puss, it makes sense that his mannerisms would be second nature to Banderas, but the actor really gives it his all, delivering a wonderful and emotive performance that is full of energy and enrapturing life. Pugh and her three bears are also great, delivering some fantastic work in their subplot, even as the bears get more of the childish humor from the script. Moura is also an incredibly menacing villain, not just because he truly feels dangerous in the context of the adventure, but because he’s voiced excellently, avoiding simple gruff vocal fry and going for a full-bodied, energetic portrayal of menace.

Mulaney, however, sticks out like a sore thumb, pun entirely intended. The way he voices Jack Horner seems like it would be the right approach initially, and the character certainly gets his fair share of great gags and moments. But the longer the film goes on, the more apparent it becomes that he’s simply too big for the material. Yes, this is a movie set in a world that takes fairy tales seriously and also not seriously, but he just feels disconnected from the tightrope walked by the rest of the cast. It's not enough to ruin the film, as he is a secondary villain who’s only in it for maybe ten minutes at most, but he’s certainly the worst aspect.

Speaking of fairy tales though, from the opening moments which proudly proclaim that “this is a fairy tale”, to the very end, there’s a wonderful energy to the entire film that makes it come alive. It feels like you’re watching a window into another world, going on an adventure with these characters, thanks to a combination of the terrific vocal performances and the visual style. But it’s the energy and heart at the center of it all that makes things truly take off. It’s not charm, although the film does have buckets of that, but an energy that comes from how seriously it takes its central character and its world. Quite simply, it's hard not to smile and be swept off your feet the whole way through.

Now about that visual style. Simply put, this might just be Dreamworks’ most gorgeous film yet. While previous movies have experimented with differing art-styles, like the earlier 2022 film “The Bad Guys” or the Dreamworks produced and Mikros Image animated “Captain Underpants”, but this is an entirely different ballpark. Not only does it embrace the alternating frame rates seen in films like “Into the Spider-Verse" but the entire look of the film feels like a gorgeous watercolor painting, like the kind of illustrations you might see in an old book of fairy tales. It brings the entire world to life in a way it never did before, and it actually ends up making the 2011 film look far worse by comparison. Characters fur is made of splotches and smudges, the lighting and colors feel distinct, motion lines appear to accentuate movement, and numerous moments of standout single color backgrounds pinpoint specific moments wonderfully. If nothing else, it’s a beauty of a film to behold.

“Puss in Boots: The Last Wish” might just be the surprise of the year. A sequel to an oft forgotten 2011 film and the first entry in the “Shrek” franchise in nearly a decade, it bursting with visual wonder and a lively energy the studio hasn’t seen in a very long time. Bolstered by an incredible cast and a touching emotional core, it’s the kind of movie that is clearly a cult favorite in the making. And a gorgeous one at that. 4.5/5

Avatar: The Way of Water - Review

Is it even possible to critique a movie like this? Love it or hate it, the original “Avatar” has had a bizarrely massive impact on the landscape of cinema, ushering in the era of mainstream 3D, the visual effects heavy blockbuster, and somehow becoming the highest grossing film of all time. Yet, it feels like every day there are new articles, tweets, and think pieces put out about how little overall impact it’s had since. “How could a movie with so much money be remembered by so few people?” the internet asks itself virtually every week, not recognizing the irony its these statements repetition. Despite James Cameron (“Terminator 2: Judgment Day,” “Titanic”) announcing a litany of sequels way back in 2009, its only now in 2022 that we’re seeing the first of those released: “Avatar: The Way of Water.” And once again the film proves the age-old adage; “Never bet against James Cameron.”

Set fourteen years after the events of the first film, “The Way of Water”, the film follows Jake Sully, played by Sam Worthington (“Hacksaw Ridge,” “Under the Banner of Heaven”), and Neytiri, played by Zoë Saldaña (“Crossroads,” “Guardians of the Galaxy”), attempting to raise a family while also fighting back the Humans who continue to try and colonize Pandora. After an attack and attempted kidnapping of their children; Lo'ak, played by Britain Dalton (“Goliath”), Tuk, played by Trinity Jo-Li Bliss (“The Garcias”), Neteyam, played by Jamie Flatters (“The School for Good and Evil,” “The Forgotten Battle”), and Kiri, played by Sigourney Weaver (“Working Girl,” “Alien”), as well as human child Spider, played by Jack Champion, by an Avatar clone of Colonel Miles Quaritch, played by Stephen Lang (“Don’t Breathe,” “Public Enemies”), the family decides to leave their forest home for the Metkayina ocean clan lead by Tonowari, played by Cliff Curtis (“Fear the Walking Dead,” “Training Day”) and Ronal, played by Kate Winslet (“Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind,” “Mare of Easttown”).

At three hours and twelve minutes, this is no small trek back to the world of Pandora. On paper, it can easily seem like a smaller scale adventure compared to the first film’s. But in practice, Cameron and his co-writers Rick Jaffa (“Dawn of the Planet of the Apes,” “Jurassic World”), Amanda Silver (“Dawn of the Planet of the Apes,” “Jurassic World”), Josh Friedman (“War of the Worlds (2005),” “Terminator: Dark Fate”), and Shane Salerno (“Savages,” “Salinger”) have crafted a film that is the textbook example of something that works far better in motion than on paper. While the story may be fairly routine, it’s a tale of a family going on the run and hiding out to protect themselves from a dangerous threat, it's in the characters that everything truly shines. It at times could even draw comparisons to films like “Running on Empty” in how it portrays its family on the run dynamic.

That doesn’t mean its flawless by any means, and the biggest negative against the writing is the fact that it feels as though elements are simply introduced just to be brought up again in future sequels. It’s understandable enough given that this is one of four sequels to come out, but it could still have been established more gracefully than it is here. That being said, the film’s atmosphere is the clear reason to see something like this. Vistas are breathtaking, and the film feels all-encompassing, like its reaching out and wrapping the viewer in a blanket made of celluloid to transport you to the world of Pandora. An IMAX screen and a pair of 3D glasses are a must for at least one viewing.

While the characterizations have improved from a writing perspective, a lot of credit also has to go to the actors. Worthington is excellent as Sully, now having slotted himself into a fatherly role. He’s clearly juggling a lot and he comes off as earnest and protective in a great way. Saldaña plays off him well, and the pair have great chemistry, while she balances Neytiri’s threatening protective nature and her calmer motherly instincts well. The familial chemistry is just great, with Dalton, Bliss, Flatters and Weaver seeming all too realistic in their sibling dynamic. Lang is appropriately threatening, but also allows for a large amount of conflict and confusion in his role. He isn’t simply a carbon copy of Quaritch, and the difference between his Avatar clone and his human personality clash in really interesting ways.

Lang’s interplay with Champion represents the film’s most complicated relationship and Champion might be one of the film’s most vita assets, even if he doesn’t immediately seem so. Curtis and Winslet are also charming in their back and forth, representing a differing parenting and leadership style for Sully and Neytiri, with Curtis in particular being him usually endlessly charming self. However, the film’s standout is Weaver, without a doubt. Somehow the 73-year-old actress has turned in her best performance in years as an achingly sincere portrait of a teenage girl searching for her place in the world. She’s both extremely easy to empathize with and also fiercely independent, delivering the film’s best performance and most lovable character.

It should be no surprise given the long development of the film and who Cameron is, but the film’s visual effects are breathtaking. Separate from the atmosphere of the world, there are entire sequences that feel like nothing else you’ve seen before, regardless of if you actually have or not. It simply takes you away into this other world. While it is gorgeous on a technical level, enough can’t be said about the film’s production design and art direction; the visuals might be detailed, but if those aren’t also good, then none of that matters. The gorgeous oceans and forests spring to life, from the largest tree to the tiniest sea creature. It feels truly like a masterclass in worldbuilding, as if you’re watching a documentary set on another planet.

The cinematography, shot by Russell Carpenter (“True Lies,” “Titanic”), in particular feels excellent given the effects heavy production of the film. That it somehow turned out a film this cohesive and gorgeously shot, given the myriad of underwater and technical elements on display, is an achievement. And it bears repeating, when you see a fully live action human character like Spider interacting with the all-digital world and characters flawlessly, with nary a seam or green screen flicker to be seen, that’s when it truly blows you away. Not in the wide vistas and gorgeous landscapes, but in the effort to make sure even this one character still feels like he really belongs there.

A lot has been made of the success of “The Way of Water,” from the box office to the polarizing audience reception. Most on “film twitter” seem baffled by the film’s success and at the time of writing it has just barely crossed 500K logs on Letterbox’d, a number nearly doubled by “Glass Onion.” So how is it making so much money when so few “film” people are seeing it? Quite simply, Cameron knows how to make a four-quadrant crowd pleaser, and “The Way of Water” is an easy example of how to make that film and still make it excellent. With characters that are easy to get invested in, a gorgeous visual style, and an all-encompassing world to get lost in, “The Way of Water” is the kind of film that simply washes over you. 4.5/5

The Whale - Review

From the start, there’s something off about “The Whale.” Maybe it’s the claustrophobic set, the dimly lit atmosphere, or the musical score. Or maybe it’s the fact that the film represents likely the most “normal” film that director Darren Aronofsky (“Requiem for a Dream,” “Black Swan”) has ever made. As a director whose previous works have heavily trafficked in the absurd, fantastical, and horrific, seeing a work as intimate as this is, for better or worse, a huge departure.

Adapted by Samuel D. Hunter (“Baskets”) from his own stage play, the film follows Charlie, played by Brendan Fraser (“The Mummy,” “Doom Patrol”), a gay reclusive college professor struggling with morbid obesity and congestive heart failure. We see him try to reconnect with his daughter Ellie, played by Sadie Sink (“Fear Street Part Two: 1978,” “Stranger Things”), conversing with door-to-door monastery Thomas, played by Ty Simpkins (“Insidious,” “Iron Man 3”), and trying to keep his spirits up with his personal nurse and best friend Liz, played by Hong Chau (“Downsizing,” “The Menu”).

There’s been plenty said about the film’s portrayal of obesity and while it's easy to point fingers at the source material, it has to be said that Aronofsky's very particular style and viewpoint definitely add something to the film adaptation. What he adds ends up being a kind of zookeeper like visual aesthetic that often times invites audiences to point and stare and gawk at Charlie’s size. It feels incredibly awkward and uncomfortable, and maybe that’s the point, but it certainly doesn’t feel respectful of the character or the person.

Which is odd since the film seems to require it. This tale requires that the viewer empathize with Charlie and moments like him opening a drawer full of health snacks and frowning, before opening a drawer with candy bars and smiling feel almost cartoonish. However, those moments, and the film itself, do have a secret weapon: Fraser. His performance is towering and incredible, and there are so many moments that start out cartoonish that feel retroactively corrected by the emotion and skill of his talent. He’s the heart of the movie by virtue, but he never rests on that idea, working to earn Charlie’s spot in our hearts at every turn.

It’s a role so excellent that it fundamentally saves that film. Whatever weird look at obesity that Aronofsky could have turned this into with another actor is twisted into a heartbreaking drama because of Fraser. Without him, the film would simply be worse. Yes, it’s a big dramatic role for an actor we haven’t seen in quite a while, but Fraser never rests on expectations. He's working at every moment to earn the empathy for Charlie and the love for his performance.

As for the rest of the cast? Well, even in comparison to Fraser’s role, they’re hit or miss. Simpkins may have some boyish awkwardness but he’s overall fine in his role, nothing worth writing home about. Chau is fantastic meanwhile, playing wonderfully off of Fraser to the point where it’s easy to wish the film was just the two of them. Sink meanwhile is playing things up to an almost disastrous degree; yes, the point of her character is that she’s mean, but the acting calls to mind a sitcom on the Disney Channel, disconnected from the reality of the film. The same goes for Samantha Morton’s (“Synecdoche, New York,” “The Walking Dead”) brief appearance as Charlie’s ex-wife and Ellie’s mother Mary, overplaying things for the entirety of her very brief appearance.

For a movie that is essentially a filmed version of a static stage play, it is shot remarkably well. Cinematographer Matthew Libatique (“Requiem for a Dream,” “A Star is Born (2018)”) takes full advantage of the enclosed set, lighting things with dreary colors and creating an oppressive atmosphere that practically locks out all colors brighter than beige. It’s a specific look that works for the mood of the film and the rare stage-to-film adaptation that seems to make full use of its static nature.

“The Whale” is a complicated film that’s biggest issue seems to be the one sitting directly behind the camera. With a play, the entire point is that it's simply a showcase for the actors. There is no camera zooming in on specific moments to put them on display, nor is there a person telling the camera what moments to zero in on. It’s why so many works on the stage are effective at removing their visual point of view, because the nature of the medium means that there isn’t one.

In the hands of a more subtle or empathetic director, this could be a true masterpiece. However, as it stands, this is a flawed film that exists best as a showcase of the difference between an actor and a director who clearly are approaching a character from two different viewpoints. None of that can ruin Fraser’s towering performance though, which, set against Chau’s great supporting performance and the film’s cinematograph, still provide a story worth watching. 3.5/5

Roald Dahl's Matilda: The Musical - Review

 

In the realm of stories, there is no writer comparable to Roald Dahl. His stories have such a bizarre and eccentric twinge to them, it takes even the more mundane tales and explodes them into tales of fantasy and imagination and twisted humor. While the most obvious and famous of his stories is “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory,” a very close second is “Matilda”, which already saw a film adaptation in the 90s directed by Danny DeVito. Now, here comes an adaptation of an adaptation, a filmed version of the Broadway musical version of “Matilda” simply titled “Roald Dahl’s Matilda the Musical.”

Directed by Matthew Warchus (“Simpatico,” “Pride (2014)”), who directed the stage show, and written by Dennis Kelly (“Black Sea,” “Together”), who wrote the stage show, the film follows young Matilda Wormwood, played by Alisha Weir (“Don't Leave Home”), as she deals with mean and idiotic parents, played by Stephen Graham (“Boardwalk Empire,” “Public Enemies”) and Andrea Riseborough (“The Devil’s Whore,” “Oblivion”), and the tyrannical principal Miss Trunchbull, played by Emma Thompson (“Love Actually,” “Angels in America”), with the help of her kind teacher Miss Honey, played by Lashana Lynch (“No Time to Die,” “The Woman King”), and librarian Mrs. Phelps, played by Sindhu Vee (“Starstruck (2021)”).

The plot will immediately be familiar to anyone who’s seen the 90s film or read the original book, as not much has changed in adaptation here. Some elements have been cut and streamlined, more on those later, but this isn’t a radical reinvention of the material by any means. Weir is adorable and fierce as Matilda, grounding her in a mature view of the cruelty of the world without losing her childhood spirit. Lynch is the film’s heart, and arguably the best Miss Honey of any adaptation thus far. She’s incredibly kind and just melts your heart nearly the moment you meet her. The same goes for Vee, who’s passionate love of Matilda’s stories is always a delight.

Graham and Riseborough are both fine, tracking in the same kind of big character choices and extravagant overplaying that every actor to fill the Wormwood’s shoes has since the beginning. Thompson, meanwhile, defies the potential stunt casting of her role and simply fades into the nastiness of Trunchbull with utter glee. Not since her turn in the “Nanny McPhee” films has she so fully lost herself in a role, and it becomes a delight to see her throughout the picture.

Anyone who’s listened to the soundtrack or seen the stage musical will be familiar with the infectious tunes here and not much has changed regarding the songs. “Quiet” is still a heartbreaking ballad that many a young adult will likely relate too, “When I Grow Up” will bring smiles and tears to parents of all kinds, and “Revolting Children” is a perfect display of Dahl’s classic wordplay mixed with a high energy victorious number. However, all of that only applies to the songs included, as there have been quite a few cut. “Loud,” “Pathetic,” “Telly” and the entire character of Matilda’s brother have all been cut from the film, and the story of the Trapeze artist and the escapologist have been turned from songs into spoken story segments.

It’s natural to have numbers cut when adapting a musical to film, but it feels like large swaths of the musical are missing, and these cuts don’t help what feels like a two and a half hour long musical squeeze itself into a 117-minute runtime. It also doesn’t help that a major climactic moment feels extremely out of place, resembling something closer to the finale of a superhero television series rather than a moment in a musical adaptation of “Matilda.”

What songs do remain though are fully of incredible choreography and imagination across the board. “Revolting Children” is a massive highlight as various kids hop around the screen in near flawless synchronized dance. It’s a film that, at the very least, isn’t afraid to be a musical, and the production design is a masterful display of color and choreography. Even if a few weak digital effects show the film’s budget, the high quality of the practical sets and design of everything is nothing short of impressive.

It’s likely that the biggest fans of this filmed version of the Broadway hit will be the people who haven’t seen or listened to the stage version, as they won’t be familiar with the cuts made to fit the filmed format. Even if you are aware though, those excised moments can’t damper a high energy, gorgeously designed and choreographed musical adventure with some great performances and sense of childlike wonder. 3.5/5

Violent Night - Review

 

There’s no better tradition at this time of year than getting the whole family together, cozying up under a nice warm blanket, and enjoying a family flick together. And for those with more grown families, there’s no better time to indulge in something a bit more violent. So, from producer David Leitch’s (“John Wick,” “Bullet Train”) seemingly unending barrage of highly choreographed action films comes something for the holidays in the form of “Violent Night.”

The film, written by Patrick Casey (“Golan the Insatiable,” “Sonic the Hedgehog (2020)”) and Josh Miller (“Golan the Insatiable,” “Sonic the Hedgehog (2020)”) and directed by Tommy Wirkola (“Dead Snow,” “Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters”) (who’s no stranger to violent holiday fare), follows Santa Claus, played by David Harbour (“Stranger Things,” “Black Widow”), who decides to help fight off a group of mercenaries lead by “Mr. Scrooge”, played by John Leguizamo (“Romeo + Juliet,” “Ice Age”), who’ve decided to invade the home of a rich family on Christmas Eve.

Admittedly, there isn’t much to the plot of the film itself. It’s a lot of excuses to stage violent action sequences involving Santa letting his rage loose to kill a lot of faceless mercenary bad guys. There are plenty of seasonal and themed kills, including a few gnarly ones involving a snowblower and a candy cane, and it all maintains the same lighthearted semi-silly style of heavily staged violence that helped make “John Wick” a modern action staple.

Harbour is wonderfully fun as an older, jaded St. Nick and his banter with the young Trudy Lightstone, played by Leah Brady in her film debut, is extremely charming and gives the entire movie a big gooey heart at its center. Leah steals virtually every scene she’s in and imbues the film with its biggest secret weapon, more on that in a bit. The rest of the cast, which includes Alex Hassell (“Cowboy Bebop (2021),” “The Red Sea Diving Resort”) as Jason Lightstone, Trudy’s father, Alexis Louder (“Copshop,” “Watchmen (2019)”) as Linda Matthews, Trudy’s mother, Edi Patterson (“The Righteous Gemstones,” “Knives Out”) as Alva Steele-Lightstone, Jason’s perpetually drunk sister, Alexander Elliot (“The Hardy Boys (2020),” “Odd Squad”) as Bertrude, Alva’s idiot influencer son, and Beverly D’Angelo (“Coal Miner’s Daughter,” “American History X”) as Gertrude Lightstone, the matriarch of the family, are all fine, doing exactly what’s needed of them without ever really standing out. Leguizamo is chewing a lot of scenery quite angrily, and the romantic reconciling of Hassell and Louder’s characters is admittedly sweet, but none of it can really be called particularly memorable.

Rather, where things really shine is in the movie’s honest sense of Christmas spirit. It seems silly to point out given the incredibly blood-soaked violence on display, but the movie plays into the tropes about warm heartedness, being kind, and the magic of the holidays in a way that really works. Part of it is the chemistry between Harbour and Brady, but its also the genuine sincerity beneath the surface. It’s a movie that clearly does want to believe in the season, despite all the jabs at entitled kids and skim milk.

Despite this, there is a general feeling that the film is missing something to truly take it above and beyond. Comparing it to other films of this ilk and they all have something that sets them apart: “Atomic Blonde” has the neon-soaked production design, “John Wick” has the obsessive rules and lore, “Nobody” has its insane lead performance. “Violent Night” is a lot of fun and certainly justifies its own existence, but it lacks that central spark to make it something truly memorable.

That being said, it’s still an absolute blast to run through this adventure with a Santa whose suit is so red you can’t see the stab wounds. Harbour is a hoot, Brady is adorable, the action is crunchy and with a seasonal cheer, and it’s a quick adventure all done in one night. Given that, early on, Santa states that one of the presents he has in his sack is “a blu-ray of Die Hard”, it’s a movie clearly aware of what it is and what it wants to do. It’s not a shiny new toy, but a well-worn one that easily gets the job done. 3.5/5