Memoir of a Snail - Review: A Tale of Hand Made Heartbreak

 

Sixteen years after the release of his previous feature film, self-described expert in “Clayography” Adam Elliot (“Mary & Max,” “Harvie Krumpet”) returns to the stop-motion medium for another tale loosely based in his own life experiences. With a muted color palette of browns, grays, and blacks and a wicked sense of dark humor, Elliot is here to tell us the tale of a “Memoir of a Snail.” 

Narrated by Grace Pudel, voiced by Sarah Snook (“Succession,” “Pieces of a Woman”), the film retells Grace’s life growing up with her twin brother Gilbert, voiced by Kodi-Smit McPhee (“ParaNorman,” “The Power of the Dog”), and father Percy, voiced by Dominique Pinon (“Delicatessen,” “Alien Resurrection”). After Percy’s death, the twins are split up, with Grace being adopted by a swinger couple in Canberra and Gilbert adopted by a family of religious fundamentalists in Perth. While Grace grows up, she befriends Pinky, voiced by Jacki Weaver (“Animal Kingdom,” “Silver Linings Playbook”), a quirky and outspoken elderly woman. As the pair grow up while apart, they harbor the hope of saving enough money to one day reunite, as life, love, and tragedy get in their way over the years. 

In keeping with Elliot’s previous works, “Snail” has plenty of wry humor that works as both a reflection of the absurdity of modern life and as a tragic tale of kindness almost snuffed out. There are plenty of genius visual gags and moments of true whimsy, even told in such a deliberately ugly and stunted style. Hell, even the image of Claymation nipples and other genitalia manages to be amusing on a base level no matter how often Elliot uses it. There’s a consistently twisted view of the world on display and his balanced hand and script never let the tragedy overwhelm the comedy or vice versa. 

Snooks’s vocal performance is flawless, as it should be given that she speaks for 95% of the film. She has an amusement and self-reflection within her voice that can only come from years of looking back on the tales being told. It’s a role that doesn’t work unless she works, and she really puts the emotion and effort in, turning it into a standout performance. McPhee is much the same; while his role is smaller, it's just as effective, and his voice acting experience comes in and nails the silliness of Elliot’s tale exactly when needed. Weaver is the true standout though, as Pinky manages to be a scene stealer in every way. The aged wisdom and carefree attitude are a perfect fit for someone like Weaver, and she makes the role her own. 

Elliot’s morphed and smudged style fits this story well and his hand-crafted version of Australia has the bend of a fairy tale. From unkempt lines to animals that look like blobs of fur, it's a visually rich world that just happens to be shot almost entirely in sepia-tone. It’s a chunky absurd look to everything and it allows the film’s most honest moments to shine through. It follows that basic idea of disarming your viewer; by breaking down the viewer’s walls with its style and humor, it allows Elliot to get at a deeper and more honest truth to his tale, almost catching the audience off guard with its complexity. 

Snook’s vocal performance is good; however, it does lead to a bit of an issue with Elliot’s overall work. While the script and dialogue itself are great, the film being 95% narration does mean that it can, at time, feel like it's the filmic equivalent of an animated podcast. It does end up retroactively fitting everything by the end, but as the film stretches on in the middle, Snook’s performance can start to blur. It also ends up fitting the best with Elliot’s demented looking art-style, allowing the world to both come alive thanks to her more naturalistic delivery, and also pointing out the weirdness in it all because of said delivery. 

“Memoir of a Snail” is an expertly crafted work of stop-motion weirdness. It hits the exact right blend of darkness and warmth, keeping things absurd while still hitting at those fundamental truths that we can all connect to. Sarah Snook carries the film with her vocal performance, and it's another fantastic film to add to Adam Elliot’s long-established catalog of hand-crafted “clayography” works. 4.5/5 

Conclave - Review: A Flock of Cardinals

 

Political dramas don’t necessarily have to take place in traditionally political settings. All it takes is a group of people with large egos getting together to vote on something and an interesting tale will come out of it. The death of a pope and subsequent voting in of the new pope was the subject for Robert Harris’s 2016 novel “Conclave,” which has now been adapted for the silver screen, featuring a who’s who of talented dramatic actors all donning tiny red cardinal caps to fill the Vatican City with dramatic intrigue. 

The film takes place shortly after the death of a pope and centers on Cardinal-Dean Thomas Lawrence, played by Ralph Fiennes (“The Grand Budapest Hotel,” “The Menu”), who will be leading the papal conclave to vote in a new pope. One of the candidates is his friend and fellow cardinal Bellini, played by Stanley Tucci (“The Devil Wears Prada,” “Spotlight”), who does not wish for the more conservative cardinals, such as Tedesco, played by Sergio Castellitto (“Paris, je t'aime,” “The Bad Poet”), or Adeyemi, played by Lucian Msamati (See How They Run (2022),” “Gangs of London”), to win the papacy. Meanwhile, Lawrence hears of potential scandals from other candidates, such as Tremblay, played by John Lithgow (“3rd Rock from the Sun,” “Footloose”), and must deal with the sudden appearance of Benitez, played by Carlos Diehz in his film debut, a previously unknown cardinal appointed in secrecy by the previous pope. 

Much of “Conclave” features its talented cast speaking together in hushed tones in the hallways of the Vatican City, gorgeously draped with smoothly carved marble and elegant statues. It’s an exceptionally gorgeous film, both in its textural details and its camerawork. Cinematographer Stéphane Fontaine’s (“Jackie,” “Rust and Bone”) shots float through this secretive city, juxtaposing wide distant shots with intimate moments of borderline claustrophobic closeness. Volker Bertelmann’s (“Hotel Mumbai,” “All Quiet on the Western Front (2022)”) score could be seen as overbearing or too bombastic at times, but it thunders through these hallways, arguably forming itself as another actor alongside its illustrious cast. It’s also just fantastically paced; it feels as though it’s over just as it’s begun, but never feels rushed by any means, giving the material exactly the time it needs to breathe. 

Fiennes is absolutely phenomenal. This is genuinely one of the finest performances of his career, a staggering complex role of a man given a job he admittedly does not even want. It’s a role of the smallest nuances, packed with little details and unexpected turns that becomes as much of a thrill to watch as the film itself. Tucci meanwhile sticks to his strengths, delivering fantastic dialogue in his very specific cadence. It’s not anything particularly groundbreaking in his body of work, but it's still excellent. Lithgow, Msamati, and Castellitto are all the same, fantastic performances bolstered by the equally great actors surrounding them, even is Castellitto’s is a bit overblown. The true standout besides Fiennes is Diehz, giving an understated and borderline mysterious performance that makes a major impact despite his limited screen time. 

“Conclave” has plenty of layers and mystery working under the surface, and director Edward Berger (“All My Loving,” “All Quiet on the Western Front (2022)”) and screenwriter Peter Straughan (“The Men Who Stare at Goats,” “Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy”) play with that mystery throughout the entire film. It’s a tale about secrets and the infallibility of man, and there’s increasingly complex details that invite further discussion after the credits role. Thankfully, even beyond those aspects, the moment-to-moment dialogue is wonderfully dense and provides a lot of great lines and moments of verbal sparring for its talented cast during this papal political event. 

The theme of secrecy doesn’t stop at the script though, as the film’s very setting and the mysterious details surrounding it help to bolster the film’s dramatic weight. It’s one thing to set a movie like this in a courtroom, it's quite another to set it in a location so shrouded in mystery. Purposefully cut off from the outside world, this isolation fuels the arguments and discussion between the cardinals, but also creates a kind of otherworldly feeling. Yes, there’s obviously offices and bedrooms and cafeterias within the Vatican City, but it's another thing to see it all rendered in such excellent production design. It might seem like a silly comparison, but when the lights are dimmed and there’s just one or two people in a room, it's a similar feeling to the internet sensation known as “The Backrooms.” 

“Conclave” is a fantastic piece of political and religious drama, weaving its tales throughout its talented cast and making excellent use of its setting and material. Fiennes gives a career best performance here, and the entire cast is absolutely fantastic. This is the kind of film that doesn’t just work on the screen but has plenty to say that is easy to continue dissecting and discussing long after its brisk two-hour runtime is up. 5/5

Venom: The Last Dance - Review: The Lethal Protector's Last Stand

 

Buried underneath the mess that is Sony’s Spider-Man-less Spider-Man universe, beneath “Morbius” and “Madame Web” and the like, is Tom Hardy’s (“Peaky Blinders,” “Mad Max: Fury Road”) unexpectedly charming odd-couple combo of Eddie Brock and the titular aggressive goopy space alien Venom. The pair have made it through their own trilogy, now capping off with a road-trip buddy film taking them from Mexico to Vegas and a bit beyond with “Venom: The Last Dance.” 

The film follows Eddie Brock, played by Hardy, and Venom, voiced by Hardy, on the run after the events of the previous film. The pair decides to head for New York before getting derailed by a creature sent to Earth by Knull, voiced by Andy Serkis (“War for the Planet of the Apes,” “The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring”), the creator of Venom and the other symbiotes. Venom informs Eddie that he’s seeking a codex that is the key to Knull escaping and wreaking havoc on the universe. The pair go on the run from the creature, trying to figure out what to do and running into a myriad of colorful characters across the Nevada desert, including the fan favorite Mrs. Chen, played again by Peggy Lu (“Always Be My Maybe,” “Kung Pow: Enter the Fist”), hippie alien lover Martin Moon, played by Rhys Ifans (“House of the Dragon,” “Notting Hill”), military general Rex Strickland, played by Chiwetel Ejiofor (“12 Years a Slave,” “Doctor Strange”), and scientist Teddy Payne, played by Juno Temple (“Ted Lasso,” “Unsane”). 

By now, any audience member going into one of these “Venom” films should know basically what to expect. Hardy continues an extremely physical performance that feels like a mixture between a modern action hero and the kind of old-school comedic physicality of Buster Keaton. His voice for Venom is also still a highlight and the pair have a fantastic bit of chemistry that borders on turning into a full-blown catty couple. The rest of the cast are all unfortunately not nearly as interesting, either taking the material far too seriously or tipping into even sillier territory than even Hardy. Ifans is an example of the latter, spiraling into a cartoon sketch of a hippie alien lover, and as great as Mrs. Chen is, unfortunately, she’s even more underutilized than in the past two films. 

Screenwriter Kelly Marcel, most known for writing the first two “Venom” films, the first “Fifty Shades of Grey” film, and Saving Mr. Banks” makes her directorial debut here with a script co-written by herself and Hardy, and it's certainly a mixed bag of a film. On the one hand, whenever the film sticks to Brock and Venom, it's a great bit of pulp-schlock thanks to Hardy. It’s whenever it tries to branch out of that material into its B-plots that it falters. Admittedly, the material involving the rest of the symbiotes works rather well, but the rest of it all just feels routine and bland. 

The film does manage to nail the “trilogy ending” feeling its going for. It’s able to be a nice finale for this duo, even if it still feels fairly anticlimactic. The rest of the characters get endings that range from either unsatisfying to blatant sequel/spinoff bait, but at least Eddie and Venom have a nice ending moment. It speaks to a larger success that Hardy has had with this series: everything about these films should have been complete garbage, but with him at the center, taking these characters so seriously and embracing their weird vibe, makes them work on a more basic level where it otherwise would not. 

“Venom: The Last Dance” manages to be a perfect middle ground between the previous two films in terms of identity: it's not nearly as gung-ho and weird as “Let There Be Carnage” but not as routine as the first film. It's a well enough send off for the comic book industry’s resident odd-couple, maintaining Hardy’s invested performances and plenty of slimy, goopy action, but it fails to excel in any realm outside of that. It’s just well enough without making any kind of an identity for itself, trilogy ending or not. 3/5 

Smile 2 - Review: A Bigger, Wilder Grin

 

After crafting the short film “Laura Hasn’t Slept” in 2020, writer/director Parker Finn got the chance to bring his vision to the big screen with his directorial debut in the form of a sequel/expansion of that short film, 2022’s “Smile.” After the smash hit success of that film, two years later we have a sequel that retains the same creative team but shifts the focus from small town scares to a big stage and a big personality within the music and pop star industry. 

The aptly titled “Smile 2” centers on Skye Riley, played by Naomi Scott (“Lemonade Mouth,” “Aladdin (2019)”), a pop star struggling with recovery from drug and alcohol addiction as well as an injury from a car accident that killed her boyfriend Paul Hudson, played by Ray Nicholson (“Panic,” “Something from Tiffany's”), before the events of the film. She’s struggling to mount a new comeback tour while facing pressure from her manager/mother Elisabeth, played by Rosemary DeWitt (“Standoff,” “Rachel Getting Married”), her assistant Joshua, played by Miles Gutierrez-Riley (“On the Come Up,” “The Wilds”), and label manager Darius, played by Raúl Castillo (“Class of '09,” “Looking”). After attempting to get painkillers from an old drug dealer friend Lewis, played by Lukas Gage (“How to Blow Up a Pipeline,” “Down Low”), she witnesses his apparent suicide and finds herself the new target of the Smile Entity, a demonic force that causes its victims to suffer hallucinations all centered around smiling before killing them a week later and moving to another subject. 

As opposed to the smaller scale scares from the first film, “Smile 2” almost immediately ratchets things up. After a fantastic one-shot opening sequence, things catapult into gear with Scott’s performance. She’s fully committed to this role, diving headfirst into the insanity that follows. It’s a performance most horror actors could only dream of, progressively getting more beaten down and battered and insane as things go on. If there’s any one singular reason to watch the film (and there are many reasons to watch), it's her performance. The rest of the cast is just as game, playing their roles extremely plainly to contrast Scott’s complete de-evolution. 

There’s a liveliness to the events of “Smile 2” that Finn manages to keep grounded without feeling boring. Moving away from the gray skies and cloudy grimness of the first film, “Smile 2” pops with color and vibrance, playing with its New York based setting to craft something that feels far more unsettling as a result of the juxtaposition. Returning cinematographer Charlie Sarroff (“Pink Skies Ahead,” “Night Swim”) keeps many of the effective shooting techniques from the first film, like long unbroken takes and spinning camera shots, and builds it into a look and feel that’s distinct from other modern horror film franchises. Returning composer Cristobal Tapia de Veer (“The Girl with All the Gifts,” “The White Lotus”) keeps the same unnerving musical cues from the first, updating them ever so slightly for the new pop-star focused theme, and they’re just as unsettling and unique as before. 

Even if it's repeating the same basic idea as before, Finn takes the larger scale and budget afforded with this sequel and uses it to go completely bonkers. The basic premise moves away from the more routine horror plot that the first film occupied and into something far more unique with its central character and celebrity focused plot. It may be the same ideas, but these changes lead to a much different energy compared to the first film. There’s also the same heavy emphasis on practical scares and effects, just like the first film. Those practical effects coupled with the slow long takes means that, just like in the first film, even when Finn does resort to jump scares, they’re earned and far more effective than they’d otherwise be. If there are any negatives to the film, it's that the last third delves a bit too much into the Entity’s hallucinations, leading to a sense that even the audience can’t keep track of what’s real and what’s not, feeling as though Finn just wanted an excuse to change things on a dime. 

“Smile 2” is the rare horror sequel that manages to be a huge improvement upon its predecessor. It keeps the same expert technical merits and practical effects from the first film and builds upon the scares and uneasiness with a fantastic lead performance from its central victim. It’s a sickly fun film that proves Finn’s first outing wasn’t a fluke and will leave any twisted horror fan with a big grim grin on their face. 4.5/5 

Anora - Review: Pretty Woman

Making films can be tricky. Making films about marginalized people even more so, given Hollywood’s predisposed nature to “save” those it deems not up to “normal” standards. Writer/director Sean Baker (“The Florida Project,” “Red Rocket”) has been making films about such people for decades now, and he’s one of the best as doing something that should be obvious: zeroing in on them as real, three-dimensional, developed people instead of caricatures in their profession. His latest film may just be his magnum opus.

“Anora” follows the titular character, who mostly goes by Ani, played by Mikey Madison (“Better Things,” “Scream (2022)”). She’s a Brooklyn based exotic dancer and prostitute who finds herself meeting and spending time with Vanya Zakharov, played by Mark Eydelshteyn (“The Land of Sasha,” “One Hundred Years Ahead”), the son of a Russian oligarch living in New York in his father’s mansion. Soon after their meeting, the pair go on an impromptu trip to Las Vegas where they decide to tie the knot after a few weeks long relationship. Vanya’s parents soon learn of the marriage and demand it be annulled, sending Toros, played by Karren Karagulian (“Red Rocket,” “The Florida Project”), who employs Igor, played by Yura Borisov (“Captain Volkonogov Escaped,” “Compartment No. 6”), and Garnick, played by Vache Tovmasyan (“Stone Cage,” “Golden School”), to get them to agree. 
Like all of Baker’s films before, there’s a strong focus here on making these characters feel like real people.  As a result, many of them may not necessarily feel like “good” people, but Baker’s script and the talent of his cast really help this misadventure come alive with fantastic results. It’s an engrossing movie, one where you get sucked in from almost the first minute and find yourself glued to the screen until the credits role.

Madison is absolutely electric. This is her film and not once does she ever waver from a performance full of fire and personality. She melts into the role, making you curse out, pity, and fall in love with Anora herself multiple times throughout. Eydelshteyn plays the man-child role of Vanya a bit too well, but he also straddles the line between being a character that is a constant source of eyerolls and pity, and one you can genuinely feel bad for by the time things are all done. Tovmasyan and Karagulian, the latter a mainstay in Baker’s films, have a wonderful chemistry, bordering on the kind of farcical goons you might see in a “Three Stooges” film. Borisov, meanwhile, is the film’s secret weapon; initially introduced as just as much of a bumbling goon as Tovmasyan and Karagulian, his character ends up becoming the small, sweet, secretive beating heart of the film’s second half. His chemistry with Madison is quietly electric, and the pair balance off each other to great effect, resulting in a great and unexpected turn for his character by the end of things.

Baker’s keen eye for pacing and cinematography keeps the entire story moving, while also highlighting the low-light neighborhoods of New York. There’s a fun back and forth to the cinematography, with Drew Daniels (“Red Rocket,” “It Comes at Night”) switching from showcasing the mansion and various spots Anora and Vanya travel under fun contexts to later, retracing those steps in the cold light of the gray New York winter. It’s a subtly gorgeous film that also works to visually showcase the distinct places in her life Anora has moved through so quickly.

Baker’s own editing style helps his films feel quick and lively without betraying the realism at the center. For as incompetent as Toros and Garnick can be, they never feel like cartoon versions of themselves. Anora is fiercely independent and outspoken, but she doesn’t feel like a caricature of various other stripper/exotic dancer characters. Even Vanya, as immature and childish as he is, doesn’t feel like that’s all there is to him. It means the resulting film isn’t just some farce about a stripper’s bad short marriage. This is a story about Anora, a real person, who lives and breathes through the screen and lights up this world.

Baker’s latest film might just be his best yet. In a career full of fantastic films, that’s quite an accomplishment, but here his latest tale has a white-hot firecracker of a lead at its center. Madison truly takes over the screen, catapulting herself into the best actress race, playing Anora with glee and honesty. The surrounding cast is excellent in their own right and only elevates her performance. It’s a truly wild adventure, edited and shot with perfection. Baker has yet again delivered a film that deserves to be called one of the best of the year, with no asterisks necessary. 5/5

The Apprentice - Review: Sebastian Stan's Performance Trumps All

 

Biopics might be a dime a dozen in the film world nowadays, but that doesn’t mean that everyone likes them. Sometimes even their own subjects dislike them. For every big budget “authorized” feature, there’s plenty that are produced without the direct or “approved” involvement of their subjects. And it’s only sometimes because they aren’t around anymore. Thus is the case with “The Apprentice,” an aptly titled film from director Ali Abbasi (“Holy Spider,” “Border”) and writer Gabriel Sherman (“The Loudest Voice,” “Independence Day: Resurgence”) that tells the tale of exactly who you think it does. 

Set in New York City in the 1970s, the film follows a young Donald Trump, played by Sebastian Stan (“Captain America: Civil War,” “I, Tonya”), as he meets Roy Cohn, played by Jeremy Strong (“Succession,” “The Big Short”), one of New York’s most infamous and despised lawyers. After agreeing to represent his family in the U.S. government’s lawsuit for discriminatory renting practices, Cohn takes Trump under his wing and begins to teach him about how he does business. Trump and Cohn slowly begin falling out as Trump meets his first wife Ivana, played by Maria Bakalova (“Bodies, Bodies, Bodies,” “Borat Subsequent Moviefilm”), attempts to establish himself as a business magnate in New York City, with practices and a persona that Cohn sharply opposes. 

There’s a deep grunge to the film itself, as if the reels were dug out of a box in the back of someone’s abandoned 1980s office. It lends the film a voyeuristic complement, which allows the events to come across as if you’re watching abandoned home video footage. It fits perfectly with the era and vibe Abbasi is going for, and it even has elements of fuzz and altered post-processing to make things look even more dated. It’s a very smart choice, and it almost seems as if cinematographer Kasper Tuxen (“The Worst Person in the World,” “Beginners”) is running around to follow Stan and Strong around, camera in hand, adding a sense of guerilla filmmaking to the project. 

Stan’s performance is one of the film’s most interesting elements, arguably even more so than Strong’s. As the film progresses Stan slowly begins to morph into more of the modern-day interpretation of Trump. It’s almost like you’re watching a biopic-ified version of “Frankenstein,” as his exposure to Cohn’s mannerisms and personality begins to physically change him. It’s a layered and fantastic performance, one that never stoops to the realm of “SNL” impersonation. It’s all the same vocal ticks, mannerisms, and nuances you know, but in a remarkably subtle way.  

Strong’s performance is just as good, as if everything is a reverse vampirism situation. Yes, the film does take place during Cohn’s fight with AIDS, but the energy between Strong and Stan’s performances almost makes it seem as if Trump is sucking the life out of Cohn through his business tactics. As things go on and Cohn becomes more of a husk of a man, Strong maintains an uneasy dead-eyed nature that’s deeply disturbing and wonderfully engrossing. Somehow this pair has turned two of the world’s most vilified and impersonated men into roles that not only have deep effort and energy behind them but are also some of the best performances of their respective careers. 

Unfortunately, give the film and Sherman’s focus on Trump, there’s much less engrossing material for the rest of the tale. That’s not to say any of the other actors are bad or that the material is, but there’s just so much more focus on Trump and Cohn that the likes of Ivana and Trump’s father Fred fall into the background. Bakalova does the best she can with the material, and she does quite well, but by the time the film is over, she’s just faded into the background. Doubly so, Trump’s father, played by Martin Donovan (“Tenet,” “Insomnia (2002)”), and his mother Mary Anne, played by Catherine McNally (“Out of My Mind,” “Love in Whitbrooke”), who are in the film to add in a layer of cliche “disapproving father” material to the story before they virtually vanish from existence. To clarify, it's not that Ivana or Trump’s parents don’t play a pivotal role in this story, but it's that the film seems more interested in them as pawns in the tale rather than fully fleshed out characters. 

Maybe that’s part of the point, as those characterizations, coupled with the whirlwind nature of the thick, grainy film stock and cinematography, as well as Martin Dirkov’s (“Unmoored,” “Holy Spider”) boisterous musical score, give a vibe of a film that, like its lead character, is willing to bulldoze things down to tell its tale. It strikes the right balance between sensationalism and truth, and Abbasi’s tight control over the film means that it never wavers in its vision. It may be grimy and dirty and not for everyone, but it's also certainly not like your bog-standard, factory-made biopic of the last decade or so. 

“The Apprentice” is an entertaining and engrossing portrait of one of America’s most controversial figures. Not only does it communicate its points through the physical production methods, but with two insanely good lead performances as well. It’s worth it just to watch Stan’s slow evolution into this man and Strong’s transformation into Cohn. It’s just a shame that, for as interesting as the Trump and Cohn material is, the surrounding figures feel like more of an afterthought. 4/5

We Live in Time - Review: A Romance for All Time

 

Often times the formula for a successful romance film simply comes down to the talent of the two leads an audience is going to spend two hours watching fall in love. There can be other aspects thrown in to spice up the narrative, the way the film is shot, plotted, etc., but if those two leads cannot nail their romantic tension and relationship, then it's all for naught. That’s where “We Live in Time” comes in: tightly paced, warmly lit, and wonderfully dramatic that’s as much of a showpiece for two talented actors as it is a wonderful slice of romance. 

Presented in a non-linear format that hops around throughout the film, it follows Almut Brühl, played by Florence Pugh (“Little Women (2019),” “Midsommar”), and Tobias Durand, played by Andrew Garfield (“The Social Network,” “tick, tick... BOOM!”). After Almut accidentally hits Tobias with her car, the pair’s paths cross and they eventually end up dating, living together, having a child, and going through all manner of medical and life issues together. 

Pugh and Garfield are fabulous together, perfectly encapsulating the push and pull of all the various emotions one can encounter throughout a relationship like this. They feel like truly fully faceted three-dimensional people, without a shred of flat characterizations to them. You really do believe their relationship across each and every bump along the road. It never feels overbearing or melodramatic, thanks to the talents of Garfield and Pugh keeping everything grounded in their emotional states. 

It’s a very gorgeous film as well, each scene dappled with a honey warm glow from the lighting and shot with expert precision by cinematographer Stuart Bentley (“Surge,” “Strange but True”). The musical score from Bryce Dessner (“C'mon, C’mon,” “The Two Popes”) does some heavy lifting when it comes to the emotional state throughout the film, and it all wraps up in a gorgeous crafter production. Whether it's on the English countryside or in a hotel room, it's the kind of film where each place seems like it would be perfect to visit. The film’s nonlinear nature is a bit of a head scratcher; early in the film, it flips back and forth enough to make a great mixture with the romantic tension, but as things go on, it just sort of stops jumping back and forth, as if the filmmakers themselves just didn’t want to bother with it anymore. 

Director John Crowley (“Brooklyn,” “Closed Circuit”) crafts a romantic tale that always comes back to his two leads, with virtually every other supporting character popping up briefly before fading away. It’s clear that the movie itself is meant to be entirely about Almut and Tobias’s relationship, with everyone else being merely slight outside observers. Even despite, or in spite, of this, a minor role for Lee Braithwaite proves to be a breakout for the young actor. Braithwaite plays Jade, a commi chef working alongside Almut and they’re a delight throughout the film, injecting a welcome bit of humor and breezy air to the events they’re involved with. 

That might make it sound like the script from Nick Payne (“Wanderlust,” “The Sense of an Ending”) is an overly maudlin affair, but that’s hardly the case. While it doesn’t sway from the heavier subject matter, the chemistry of Pugh and Garfield keeps things light, and the script is punctuated with plenty of romantically cliched moments that will make hearts swell and eyes roll with equal measure. It rides that line between self-serious and silly with great precision, and one sequence in the latter half that takes place in a petrol station is one of the most fantastic segments of any film this year. 

While it might traffic in some well-worn romantic drama clichés, “We Live in Time” is the perfect example of what happens when you hand some talented actors material like this and they run with it. Pugh and Garfield are just fantastic, and the film is visually and auditorily gorgeous. It might not change the entire genre, but it's a film completely fine with playing within those constraints to excellent results. 4.5/5

Piece by Piece - Review: Building a Different Kind of Documentary

 

Documentaries can easily be some of the most straightforward films to make. Just film some talking head segments, get some archival photos and video footage, and wrap it all up with narration and some pensive music. But Pharrell Williams doesn’t do straightforward apparently, and when crafting a documentary about his childhood and career with Oscar winning documentarian Morgan Neville (“20 Feet from Stardom,” “Won’t You Be My Neighbor?”), he wanted to do something different. And a documentary animated entirely in LEGO style is certainly something different. 

The film follows Williams’s life growing up in Virginia Beach before breaking into the music industry by creating beats and producing music for numerous artists such as Snoop Dogg, Gwen Stefani, Pusha T, Jay Z, Justin Timberlake, and Busta Rhymes, among others. Eventually, Williams begins to fall into a creative slump before breaking out with his hit single “Happy” and becoming the more unique, creative singer he’s known to be today. 

While the idea of making a documentary in a LEGO animated style might seem like a gimmick at first, it quickly becomes apparent that it really is a stylistic choice that fits Williams’s creative ethos and the central thesis of the movie. It’s a choice that comes from the energy behind the film, not added on after the fact. It also allows for some gorgeous displays of animation and interpretation during some of the film’s most abstract moments. Even little details like showing two different cities coming together by physically pushing them together or showcasing Williams’s synesthesia throughout give the film more life than a standard documentary would have. There are numerous moments that border on psychedelic and help to bring everything to life, and even in the smaller moments, the LEGO aesthetic helps showcase the story in a lively manner. 

Separate from the animation, there is a lot of charm to be found in Williams’s tale and friends. While clearly sanitized a bit given the family-friendly LEGO aesthetic, there’s a lot of good-natured ribbing and laughter to be had amidst this showcase of musical creativity and self-love. There are even bits of introspection that seem remarkably humble, such as Williams’s not only allowing the film to fully go into his numerous failed business ventures and creative outlets, but also letting his collaborators and friends speak so frankly about those failed ventures. 

If there’s a weakness to the film, it's that despite its desire to be a way to showcase Williams’s admittedly inspiring personal thesis on creativity and the music industry, it ends up being a more surface level tale about his own career and upbringing. It certainly goes into plenty of detail, but there are also plenty of times where things are just skipped or glossed over, leading to a skin-deep kind of biopic feeling. The interstitials with his collaborators and friends do make up for a lot though. Even in their plastic LEGO forms, hearing them gush about working and growing up with Williams and his talents even at a young age is legitimately heartwarming and often times remarkably humbling. 

As one would expect, there are plenty of original songs here, and they’re all pretty fantastic; the title track in particular is yet another killer title track from Williams. The film’s large collection of musical hits helps to not only show the wide variety of tracks Williams had his hands in over the years, but also works in being authentic to their original material without stretching too far outside of the LEGO nature.  

“Piece By Piece” is certainly not like any other documentary or LEGO film to come before. Even that’s possibly because it feels less like a documentary and more like an animated showcase of an artist’s career and creative philosophy. Luckily, those talking animated heads who’ve come to play and talk about their friend are pretty charming, and the way the film utilizes the animated landscape to showcase emotional beats is something typical documentary elements couldn’t pull off. It could’ve used a narrative that went a bit deeper into its subject’s life, but there’s a lot to enjoy here, whether you’ve come for the music or the surprisingly inventive display of the creative process. 4/5

Joker: Folie à Deux – Review: The Joke Is On You

When any film makes a billion dollars, there’s a sequel on the horizon, regardless of how unique or singular that first film is. And Todd Phillip’s (“The Hangover,” “War Dogs”) twisted take on DC’s clown prince of crime is as dark and un-sequel-friendly as they come. But it made a billion dollars and won a few Oscars, so here comes “Joker: Folie à Deux”, sequel that’s bigger, bolder, more musical, and more morally ambiguous than ever before. 

The film picks up two years after the events of the first film as Arthur Fleck, played by Joaquin Pheonix (“Walk the Line,” “Beau is Afraid”), awaits trial for the murders he committed that inspired the riots across Gotham. While in Arkham Asylum, he meets Harleen Quinzel, played by Lady Gaga (“A Star is Born (2018),” “House of Gucci”), a fellow inmate who becomes obsessed with Arthur and his Joker persona. She inspires him to embrace his madness further, throwing his case into disarray for his lawyer Maryanne Stewart, played by Catherine Keener (“Being John Malkovich,” “Capote”), and guard at Arkham Jackie Sullivan, played by Brendan Gleeson (“Paddington 2,” “The Banshees of Inisherin”). 

The only somewhat pretentious sounding title “Folie à Deux” means “madness for two.” Phillips and his co-writer Scott Silver (“8 Mile,” “The Fighter”) certainly create a lot of madness, but it all feels wildly pointless by the end of the film. The first half of the film feels bizarrely aimless, just futzing around until the second half set in the courtroom starts. But even then, it results in a lot of surface level discussions about Arthur and his potential mental illness that Phillips and Silver literally end before any definitive statements can even be made. It’s a film that loves to drag a lot of rough subject material up from the depths without actually committing to making any kind of statements on said material. 

Pheonix is doing absolutely the best he can with much flimsier material, puttering around from scene to scene, making funny faces and talking with the slight high-pitched wilt that he crafted for the first film. It's a less compelling performance, but it never feels like it's his fault. Gaga is incredibly underutilized meanwhile. Her performance is fine enough, but the film simply does not know what to do with her after the first act, feeling content to have her pop up a few more times before disappearing completely. Keener is there and then gone, barely making an impact when she is being used, and Gleeson’s performance, while excellent, is buried in the film’s overtly cruel characterization of his role. 

While on paper, the film is building to the end of Arthur’s trial, the actual events and movement of the plot feels wildly unmotivated. Things just sort of happen and never feel as though they’re building to any sort of climax. The biggest thing that happens in the third act comes completely out of nowhere and serves as an excuse to avoid giving a direct statement on the film’s biggest central question. Even the scenes that follow feel so disconnected from that climax that it feels like they took place before the third act and just happened to get slotted into the end. It all feels pointless, like a film based around nihilism but not even in an interesting way. 

Meanwhile, the musical aspect feels even more pointless. While plenty of the scenes are well shot, the rest feel slotted in for no reason. They’re set in average locations, in the middle of other preexisting moments on a whim. But beyond the quality of the numbers or shots, they don’t add anything to the film as a whole. Whether they’re “in Arthur’s mind” or not, removing them from the film would change nothing about the plot or the film as a whole. They add nothing to the story and feel like the film’s most egregious bit of “prestige film” detail slathered upon a project undeserving of that kind of attention.

At least the film’s returning cinematographer Lawrence Sher (“Garden State,” “The Hangover”) shoots the film with the same gorgeous level of detail as before, crafting the best-looking version of these misguided ideas. Hildur Guðnadóttir (“Tár,” “Women Talking”) also returns to score the sequel after winning an Oscar for doing the same for the first. Her music still manages to be an evocative high point, but it’s too often drowned out by the film’s bizarre song choices and musical numbers.

So many of the elements within the film that, as previously stated, work on paper but not in practice, come off as not a mistake somewhere along the filmmaking process, but rather a middle finger to the prospect of the blockbuster industry. Make a sequel to a billion-dollar grossing incel-bait dark comic book movie? Sure, but let’s make it a courtroom drama-slash-musical with half the violence as before and a quarter of the plot. Can the lead character sing? Let’s just wing it and if he can’t, we’ll act like it’s an additional detail underneath all the artsy details we’re playing with.

The problem here isn’t that the film is slower or that Arthur’s singing is bad or that it doesn’t decide to commit to an answer to its central moral question. Plenty of films play with those kinds of aspects. The problem here is that the audience is paying the price, because it doesn’t feel purposeful. It feels like an accident being covered for, and it makes your audience have a worse time as a result. To put it in simpler terms: Arthur can be a bad singer, but he can’t be too bad or you’ll make the audience actually bemoan when he sings, otherwise you’re cutting off your clown nose to spite your face.

“Joker: Folie à Deux” will certainly be remembered for quite a long time, but the reason for that remembrance is almost a complete inverse of the first film. Despite Pheonix and Gaga trying their best while trapsing through a gorgeous looking film, Phillips has far too many heady ideas that never actually result in anything meaningful or compelling. Worse, he stretches it out, resulting in a slog of a film that acts as if it knows better than its audience, without ever stopping to think what it knows better about. It’s a fascinating film in how it fails, and one that could easily be dissected and discussed, but certainly not rewatched, for a long time to come. 1.5/5