All posts by Stephen Michael Brown

I've reviewed films for more than 20 years. Current movie reviews of new theatrical releases and direct-to-video or streaming films are added weekly to the Silver Screen Capture movie news site. Many capsule critiques originally appeared in expanded form in my syndicated Lights Camera Reaction column.

Movie Review: Cats (2019)

A B- for Universal Pictures’ new musical film

Don’t judge a talented ensemble by its misbegotten digital feline fur cover. Once you get past the regrettable and slightly creepy augmented Snapchat aesthetic, Tom Hooper’s adaptation of the musical Cats (B-) hits some pretty nifty notes. Ardent evan-Jellicles of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s classic tuner based on T.S. Eliot’s poems about ragtag whiskered strays vying for redemption will find there’s a terrific theatrical bravura and a deft, often dreamlike showmanship beneath the layers of the bizarro production design. After a high-energy and effective opener, there are admittedly a few comedic clunkers (I’m looking at you, Rebel Wilson and James Corden!) before the likes of Dame Judi Dench, Sir Ian McKellan and even Taylor Swift put their impish imprint on some rather well sung, elaborately staged and choreographed kitty ditties. Some of the scale and CGI effects defy logic, but you’ve got to suspend belief a bit anyway since you’re watching a fantasy about crooning human/cat hybrids after all. This material has never been known for having a cogent plot; in fact, Hooper shapes and improves the narrative though-line a bit from its stage origins with a sense that the characters are caught up in an actual contest. Ballet impresario Francesca Hayward is divine as the spirited protagonist, as are talented dancer/singers Robert Fairchild and Laurie Davidson in some of the less star-driven roles. Jennifer Hudson does a helluva “Memory,” and the new Lloyd Webber song “Beautiful Ghosts” (sung by Hayward, lyrics by another T.S., Ms. Swift) provides a lovely contemporary counterpoint. The film’s feral spirit can lull you right into its bonkers universe; and even though not every sequence lands on its feet, the film will undoubtedly bring joy to many as it survives multiple derisive deaths to at last experience safe harbor in the loving protection of cult fans.

Movie Review: Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker (2019)

Rise of Skywalker (Disney): “B”

J.J. Abrams returns to the helm for the final entry of the legendary Jedi v Sith sequel cycle, Star Wars Episode IX: The Rise of Skywalker (B), a populist pretzel twisting space and time to conclude a myriad of loose plot points while pouring on salty nostalgia in generous doses. This space opera saga finale works best when its trio of next-generation heroes Rey, Finn and Poe embark on snappy adventures together, less in a murky subplot involving a villainous blast from the past and even less in its introduction of new characters to an overstuffed narrative. Abrams scores a propulsive and often thrilling first hour and gets the humor right with fan-pleasing quips and gags but finds himself a bit tangled when trying to shoehorn the late Carrie Fisher’s unused footage from past movies into cogent current conversations and striving to make sense of some lapses in lineage for its dueling family trees. Visually, the film is splendid, with a few epic tricks up its sleeves including a pretty Bollywood planet and a deft lightsaber battle on the high seas. There are some clever treasure quests, stunning revelations and a few generally poignant moments, sometimes bookended by an occasionally soggy and somewhat schizophrenic salmagundi. In trying to please his fanboy/fangirl constituencies, Abrams is all too likely to replace originality with more origins. The film is indeed haunted by ghosts, some of the high-spirited variety and others fossilized or zombified with creaky bones of a lumbering legacy. It’s a testament to the acting chops of Daisy Ridley as protagonist Rey and Adam Driver as her frenemy Ren that they acquit themselves admirably amidst some mumbo jumbo logic. The over four-decade series has likely outlasted its ability to surprise, but its mirth and myth making factory still thrills. This frenzied film hyperdrives to a generally smooth landing.

Movie Review: Richard Jewell

Richard Jewell/Warner Bros.

The revelatory performance of Paul Walter Hauser as the mild-mannered titular character of Clint Eastwood’s Richard Jewell (B) is the primary draw of the historical procedural movie. While the director plays a bit loose with the story elements surrounding the man wrongfully accused of masterminding the 1996 Olympic Park bombing in Atlanta, Eastwood successfully conjures a trio of fine performances, including Hauser’s nuanced protagonist, Kathy Bates as his classic Southern mom and Sam Rockwell as a wry, supportive lawyer. Less successful are Jon Hamm and Olivia Wilde whose stock characters as an FBI agent and reporter, respectively, at the center of Jewell’s false narrative tend to ring false. The film is taut in its re-enactment of the inciting incident and intriguing in its examination of how easy it is to cajole a hapless man into a corner. It has flashes of humor and pathos as its themes come into focus. The story is told in a minor key evocative of its central subject and is above average entertainment even if not astonishing.

Movie Review: Waves (2019)

Waves from A24 Studio

Waves (B), written and directed with a whirling dervish ferocity by Trey Edward Shults, tells an epic story of a contemporary Floridian family experiencing a variety of trials on a journey to redemption and recovery. While ultimately hopeful, it careens head-first into a Requiem for a Dream level fever pitch for some time before transitioning into a more contemplative second act. The ensemble is uniformly exquisite, led by Sterling K. Brown and Renée Elise Goldsberry as well-meaning parents to Kelvin Harrison Jr. and Taylor Russell, also a wonder as thoughtful teen siblings facing a coming tide of turmoil. Although his film is often lovely to behold, Shults employs too many cinematic tricks with an elliptical structure that weighs down the movie’s thin storyline. At times, despite good intentions, the film feels a bit like an after-school special greatest hits episode. The music by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross is tense and tantalizing, and the bursts of nighttime and maritime colors are gorgeous, even if occasionally too evocative of the superior Moonlight, set in a similar milieu. The themes about savoring every moment and taking steps to heal emotional wounds are quite resonant, but sometimes the film goes to alarming lengths to administer its balm.

Movie Review: Marriage Story (2019)

Marriage Story: A (Now on Netflix)

Even though it chronicles the sad tale of the breakdown of a marriage, Noah Baumbach’s Marriage Story (A) is bittersweet bliss. Adam Driver and Scarlett Johansson give career-best performances as the couple in the story’s center, a director and his actress muse, respectively, who find themselves separated by an emotional gulf and soon a geographic one as his NYC career flourishes and as she moves to L.A. to film a pilot. Their characters’ drift away from each other is less the result of a bombshell than simply desiring different approaches to matrimony and how they live their lives. And although they have become too closed-off from one another to thrive as a functional unit, the complicated mechanics of divorce – and what it all means for the couple’s sole offspring – become the trigger point for high drama. Ray Liotta, Alan Alda and Laura Dern are magnificent as acerbic orbiting attorneys, with Dern in particular delivering mightily as the woman empowering Johannson’s character to strike faster and harder. Baumbach makes his audiences deeply care about the proceedings with endearing and intimate close-ups, flashes of humor and a brilliant take on human relationships. The acting is so good, it feels like a documentary. Tragedy is tough, but this ensemble demands attention. Even Randy Newman’s sometimes spry, sometimes sanguine score is a delight, although it’s pretty much the opposite of “You’ve Got a Friend in Me.” The film is searing and sensational and will likely be absorbing must-see viewing in your queue. Prepare for the streaming, especially from your eyes.

Movie Review: Dolemite Is My Name (2019)

Craig Brewer’s Dolemite Is My Name (B+) is a joyous examination of creating unconventional film art and in the vulgar verses and syncopation of its titular rhyming cinematic pimp may just showcase the origins of rap music too. Eddie Murphy as standup comedian turned Blaxploitation movie icon Rudy Ray Moore and Wesley Snipes as D’Urville Martin, an obscure and flamboyant actor tapped to direct the film-within-the-film, both turn in marvelous comeback performances. The film falls in the let’s-make-a-terrible-movie sub-genre already populated by The Disaster Artist and Ed Wood, but it’s also notable for plumbing an era in history of significant underrepresentation of African-Americans in film. The movie is gorgeously art directed and very funny. It’s a hoot to see an ensemble, including Da’Vine Joy Randolph, Keegan-Michael Key, Craig Robinson, Chris Rock and Titus Burgess, having this much fun while showcasing history in the making.

Movie Review: The Irishman

The Irishman: B+

It’s one more bravura trip to the underworld for Martin Scorsese’s requiem repertory of Robert De Niro, Joe Pesci and Harvey Keitel plus first-time collaborator Al Pacino. The Irishman, a.k.a. I Heard You Paint Houses (B+) chronicles nearly six decades in the life of De Niro’s stoic WWII veteran character, an Emerald Isle descendent who speaks Italian, a truck driver lulled into a regimented mobster and bodyguard life, buoyed by two notable bosses: Pesci as a low-key early enabler and Pacino as Jimmy Hoffa himself. The whirling dervish of a director, concerned with Big Themes surrounding the milieu he’s mastered, adds to his usual fetishized gangster tropes a profound sense of melancholy about the toll 60 years of postwar American violence takes on its inhabitants. If GoodFellas felt like a party and Casino the hangover, this is the bleachy clean-up. The structure is episodic and criss-crosses through flashbacks and flash-forwards via a marginally successful de-aging effect of its principals. There are times the CGI/makeup mixology generates an acceptable fuzzy fountain of youth mask, but sometimes the enterprise feels like the live-action geriatric stepchild of a Polar Express train conductor given hard-scrabble birth in the Dick Tracy villain lair. The near three and a half hour extravaganza may actually benefit from an episodic binge on Netflix. If this overlong opus were viewed in three acts, you’d notice that classic blood packets get ample use in the nostalgic first hour (“Now that’s what I call the Mafia” greatest hits), the middle section is more slow-burn sag than grandpa at the health club and the final hour brilliantly crystallizes themes about the consequences of following a lifelong criminal code of conduct. The problematic hole in the center of the film is its impenetrable leading man, largely a distant protagonist relegated to reacting to much more interesting characters. Meanwhile, an understated Pesci shines in a supporting role, stripped of his usual comedic schtick and imbued with icy menace, and Pacino’s Hoffa is a veritable kaleidoscope of kitsch and vinegar. Pacino plays this man of profound contradictions with Grand Guignol relish, at one point berating an associate mercilessly for being late for a meeting and later fondly indulging in an ice cream sundae. De Niro comes into his own in a critical dramatic phone call sequence late in the story. Women get short shrift in the saga, however, especially Anna Paquin as the protagonist’s daughter who basically plays his guilty conscience. Marty stuffs a lot into his gangland dish including on-screen historical text markers, reflective narrations featuring axioms of the crime life and a few funny conversations including Jesse Plemons and a protracted discussion of a rogue fish. Despite the running time being a bit of a slog, Scorsese proves the ultimate wise guy with this elegiac epic. It’s a worthy entry into this prickly and particular director’s own universe of marvel.

Movie Review: Knives Out

Knives Out: B

If writer/director Rian Johnson prepared your holiday turkey, it would be overstuffed, but the cinematic chef gleefully loads up his wily whodunit Knives Out (B) with impeccable ingredients: a cavalcade of sassy stars, a labyrinthine manor, cunning clues, red herrings, mousetraps and sinewy twists. A spry Daniel Craig (with a vexing Foghorn Leghorn accent) and relatable Cuban actress Ana de Armas are the closest things to protagonists in the sprawling ensemble as detective and central caretaker, respectively. This duo provides sympathetic touchstones in a universe of rather despicable suspects. Everyone in the story has a connection to a mystery novelist patriarch played by Christopher Plummer, and they all display sharp edges in oddball humor and acerbic dialogue. Jamie Lee Curtis, Don Johnson, Toni Collette, Chris Evans and Michael Shannon are among the prominent players. Although it would have been charitable to accomplish the story with fewer partisan jabs, less projectile vomiting and more character interactions, it is efficient in its intent and durable for its duration. It’s a rare entry into a fun genre by a filmmaker who may have met his match.

Movie Review: Ford v Ferrari

A victorious “A” for Ford v Ferrari

James Mangold’s ‘60s-set Ford v Ferrari (A) is a triumph, precision tuned with grit and grace and a combination of spectacular acting and “how did they do that?” practical action effects. Matt Damon and Christian Bale punch up everything fueling their winning screen personalities as the real-life racing team tilting at windmills to help America’s iconic automaker gain a shot at victory against Italian racers in the rigorous 24 hours of the Petit Le Mans. Mangold accomplishes a magnificent feat for historical drama by finding surprises around every turn. The film features an excellent ensemble, a cracking screenplay and stunning art direction and should please those who and aren’t typically enamored by car chase sequences. Damon’s character’s genuine swagger and boldness against the odds and Bale’s imaginative ingenuity plus a tender subplot with his family balance the film and anchor its action. Some of the best moments evoke the sheer wonder of boys and their toys as the central duo wrestles – sometimes literally – with the Herculean task they’re undertaking. It’s a tribute to friendship and teamwork and breaking out of conventions. The film is high-concept when it needs to be but possesses enough nuance to temper its ambitions. It’s a sterling entry into the American cinematic canon and deserves to be feted as year-end accolades are awarded.

Movie Review: Frozen 2 (2019)

Weak sequel scores a C-

Chris Buck and Jennifer Lee’s Frozen 2 (C-) features lovely animation of an autumnal enchanted forest, but the most prominent lingering act of nature from the film is that of treading water. Unlike the first film’s brisk telling of a fairy tale anchored by sisterly love and icy ditties, the sequel meanders into a hodgepodge of splintered themes and subplots which fail to coalesce into anything revelatory or majestic. Mediocre songs, average new characters, recycled sight gags and over-reliance on flashbacks and folklore from the first film make this excursion feel more like a cash grab than a logical extension of the story. None of the voice actors gets much of a chance to shine, and the directors’ experimentation with a number of formats for songs and detours on the plot path doesn’t do the follow-up any favors. Luckily for parents who couldn’t get the earworm “Let It Go” out of their head, there’s not much of a tune or tale to remember this time around.

Movie Review: A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood


A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood: B+

Not since Dr. Lecter coerced Clarice Starling to confront her deep rooted fears has a movie character so successfully invaded the human psyche. Come hell or high puppet, this engrossing supporting character is going to get in your head. A tale of a life transformed by iconic child advocate Fred Rogers, Marielle Heller’s sentimental, sensational and occasionally subversive A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood (B+) is a relatively conventional drama played magically in a lower key than expected. Matthew Rhys should get more credit than he will for his excellent portrayal of a cynical investigative journalist tasked with interviewing a veritable patron saint of optimism. Tom Hanks is a marvel as Mr. Rogers, channeling the gentle giant with peculiar perception. Heller frames the film with delightful miniatures from the iconic television show and chronicles an effective domestic drama with strong performances from Chris Cooper and Susan Kalechi Watson as the reporter’s estranged father and bright wife. There’s one moment of potent uplift that will have each viewer using imagination to inventory emotions with stunning clarity. It’s an ideal Thanksgiving release with a message to embrace one’s singular station and particular burdens and help build community one person at a time.

Movie Review: The Laundromat (2019)

The Laundromat: C+ (Now on Netflix)

The star-studded disaster movie genre born in the ‘70s has been replaced by all-star dramas focused on societal ills, with the likes of Crash, Babel, Requiem for a Dream, The Big Short and Traffic paving the way for a film about money laundering, bribery and corruption. Steven Soderbergh’s The Laundromat (C) tells an arch and sometimes absurdist anthology of stories about the flow of cash between real-life dirty rotten scoundrels and the trickle-down of treachery to some unwitting protagonists. While the director employs some fun flourishes in the form of whimsical narration, educational animation, breaking the fourth wall and three very different chapters of narrative, it doesn’t hang together with quite the impact he intended. The director fritters away the talents of Gary Oldman, Antonio Banderas, Jeffrey Wright and Matthias Schoenaerts in arbitrary roles while giving the always sensational Meryl Streep the film’s most contoured character, a widow tracing the shell companies protecting those responsible for her husband’s death. Soderbergh doesn’t render his enterprise with quite the creativity or finesse required to make the movie and its themes as memorable as others in the modern muckraking tradition. It’s intriguing and ripped out of the headlines, but the film doesn’t quite capture the urgency of its own zeitgeist.