Shawn Levy’s The Adam Project (C+) starts with a pretty lively premise – suppose you time traveled for an adventure with your younger self – and spends most of its duration squandering its novel notion. Ryan Reynolds delivers his typical brashness with grumpy quips, with pint-sized Walker Scobell as his tween self a little too intermittently sarcastic and wide-eyed to collect much goodwill. Zoe Saldaña is sufficiently emotive as a love interest and gets a few moments to strut her action chops. Catherine Keener is woefully miscast as an arbitrary villain. Mark Ruffalo doesn’t get much to do as the protagonist’s dad, and Jennifer Garner barely registers as the mom. The special effects are subpar and most of the action sequences shoehorned and cribbed from better properties. A couple of emotional sequences almost redeem the rote reels, but this movie is little more than a perfectly average and uninspiring way to spend two hours.
Available in limited theatres and Showtime on Demand. An A-24 film.
A tone poem of gorgeous atmosphere and production design, Kogonada’s futuristic After Yang (B) probes questions such as, “What would you do if an android who is a major part of your family becomes terminally ill?” It’s a quite lovely and contemplative film and a showcase for an understated Colin Farrell as the soft-spoken patriarch. Jodie Turner-Smith as the mother Justin H. Min as Yang the “techno sapien,” Malea Emma Tjandrawidjaja as his sister and Haley Lu Richardson as a mysterious friend of the cyborg are all delights in quiet roles. The talented Sarita Choudhury stands out as a museum curator interested in immortalizing the memory banks of the unresponsive robot. There are some wonderful grace note sequences such a flashback of Farrell and Min discussing the indescribable bliss of a good tea, and there are pensive drives through modern cityscapes to bring dimension to the talky proceedings. For many it will be a quietly moving meditation on the mysteries of life while it may be a little too dramatically inert for others.
Disney/Pixar. Available on DVD and Disney+ streaming service.
Maneuvering the manic minefield of the female Chinese-Canadian tween growing up in early aughts Toronto can be a lot to handle: from flip phones to flipping out, juggling pimpled cuties and temple duties, hoarding both Tamogotchis and tampons and in general trying to find one’s way while on the brink of something new. Domee Shi’s Turning Red (B) leverages a fusion of anime stylings and daydreams with dollops of photo-realistic Pixar aesthetics to craft an animated adventure. But why simply chronicle the protagonist’s amusing and illuminating semi-autobiographical coming of age story when you can also foist an extra forced metaphor of turning into a giant red panda when emotions get heavy? It’s a balancing act for the filmmaking team ultimately working out the story kinks. Glimpses into the bonds of female friendship and some fascinating Cantonese cultural cues enliven the sillier moments, and the film works best when pursuing the genuine embarrassments of adolescence as opposed to plumbing the land grabs for plush merchandise sales. Rosalie Chiang gives a spry central voice performance, and Sandra Oh is effective as her demanding mom who thankfully can relate to her daughter’s strife with more haste that a recently frustrating animated Colombian abuela. Although this film is not a musical, the score and songs by Ludwig Göransson plus Billie Eilish and Finneas O’Connell, respectively, keep proceedings lively, especially in some amusing boy band parody sequences. No doubt this will be the latest Disney endeavor to play on repeat for a good part of the upcoming season, so thankfully it’s a ritual with rewards.
We’re all in on the joke, right, that he’s not making these movies for critics? The prolific writer, director and actor at the heart of Tyler Perry’s A Madea Homecoming (C-) brings the streaming Netflix service a madcap dose of his patented brand of crass humor mixed with dollops of melodrama. The irreverent “Madea” character is back for her twelfth feature film appearance, and this time the sassy matriarch is holding sway over a family gathering as her great-grandson who is harboring a secret (Brandon Black) prepares to graduate from college. Director Perry doesn’t seem to mind saying “that’s a wrap” to his very first take of a scene, regardless of his own line readings as actor, nor does he give a good “hallelujer!” if the screenplay’s tone veers wildly from soapy sentiment to cartoonish caricature to full-throttle Red Lobster commercial midway into the narrative. A crossover with another drag comedian, Brendan O’Carroll as “Agnes Brown” doesn’t quite give the parallel mothers story any additional gravitas. Gabrielle Dennis and Isha Blaaker are standouts of the serious parts of the story, and Perry upstages himself with the uproarious antics of his wildly inappropriate “Uncle Joe” character as well as flashbacks of “Young Madea” in an inexplicable feud with Rosa Parks (yes, that Rosa Parks!). Still, this is comfort food for the soul with some wild-eyed characters skimming the surface of social commentary amidst some pratfalls and pathos.
A contemporary tale of political intrigue, a serial crime spree mystery and a noirish adaptation of comic book legend blend spectacularly in The Batman (A), assuredly directed by Matt Reeves. Similar in style and tone to Seven and L.A. Confidential, with twisty themes and commentary on urban decay and perverse forms of achieving justice, this superhero drama is dead serious to the core. This bacchanal of cinematic delights includes transfixing production design, purposeful action, wondrous gadgetry, stunning cinematography and a triumphant score to herald the latest movie series epoch with Robert Pattinson as a brave and brooding Batman/Bruce Wayne. A political assassination sets the dense narrative into motion, with Pattinson’s protagonist juggling several layers of intrigue to cut through corruption and discover unsettling truths. No mere retelling of the origin story, this installment charts unconventional courses into unexpected places. Pattinson proves to be a grim and winning hero with impeccable acting ability. Zoë Kravitz as an avenging spy Cat Woman, Paul Dano as a cunning crackpot Riddler and Colin Farrell (unrecognizable under makeup) as an old-school gangster Penguin all lend dynamic supporting turns, and Jeffrey Wright and John Turturro are also wonderful in less showy ensemble roles. Reeves creates a lived-in universe of pulpy nightclubs, sprawling cathedrals, sinister lairs and sky-high vistas for epic action sequences and showdowns and continuously raises the stakes of his widescreen canvas. Many topical themes are unusually prescient, yet the stirring central storyline never falters. The sheer notion at all points that anything could happen makes it continually watchable despite a considerable running time. This sets a new high watermark for the genre and is sure to thrill both hardcore fans and discerning general movie audiences who don’t have to know backstory to enjoy a propulsive path forward.
The W.C. Fields admonition to never work with children or animals gets a hard pass when those stars are one of the screen’s charming rejuveniles and a canine companion trained for war but imbued with empathetic instincts. Dog (B+), the feature film co-directing debut of Channing Tatum and Reid Carolin, is a rare breed of heady human/animal bond pictures with a dramatic undercurrent about the aftermath of war and just needing someone to talk to about it. The film stars Tatum as an Army Ranger who must escort the Belgian Malinois military working dog of his fallen commander down the Pacific coast to her handler’s funeral. It’s packed with funny and dramatic road trip elements, some slapstick sequences and some moments of profundity along the journey as both man and dog overcome emotions for which they were never trained. This is an ideal vehicle for Tatum’s wry, affable Everyman demeanor, plus the animal is ever a winning screen partner. There’s definitely some content in the film not appropriate for younger kids, but the portrayal of a duo facing PTSD as they attempt to move on in civilian life makes this an unexpectedly moving story.
A reverse romantic comedy in which a duo of jilted lovers collaborate on a ruse to regain the affections of their exes, Jason Orley’s I Want You Back (B+) is chock-full of fun and charm. Charlie Day and Jenny Slate are a hoot as the goofy twosome in cahoots, with Gina Rodriguez and Scott Eastwood effective as the seemingly winning lovers who abandoned them. Slate in particular is a delight in her role and lends a droll demeanor as an unconventional leading lady on a path to self-discovery. Many of the romcom genre’s formulaic conventions are front and center but in wry, warped form, and the writers play to the comic talents of the ensemble with confident effect. It’s full of fun detours including a jaunty infiltration of a middle school musical, karaoke and nightclub sequences of tremendous joy and a variety of pratfalls and showdowns worthy of the story’s idiosyncratic characters. Amidst the madcap events is a series of smart observations about compatibility and personal destiny. Swipe left or right on your streaming service to connect with this film.
Director Kat Coiro finds some glimmers of final act sparkle to doll up the dirge of Marry Me (D+), which for most of its duration is misbegotten and monotonous and features one of the decade’s most chemistry-free romantic couples. Jennifer Lopez no doubt has considerable allure, and it’s on display in her costume, choreography and compositions, but wow, is her romance with Luke Wilson’s character a big ole clunker! The preposterous premise that Lopez’s pop music star character proposes from the concert stage to an everyman in the crowd keeps getting worse before it gets better. About thirty minutes before the end, Coiro and company put the narrative out of its misery and compensate with at least two great pop anthems, charming celebrity cameos including Latin star Maluma and a treasure trove of fabulous fashions. Most of the film simply doesn’t work, not for a lack of J.Lo trying. Wilson’s understated performance is simply no match for her singular spectacle, and surface gloss cannot repair this fussy and unfunny high concept.
Director Steven Soderbergh puts the WTF in WFH in his minor key paranoid thriller Kimi (C). Stepping into the Rear Window/Blow Out role as the protagonist who unwittingly uncovers a crime, a winning Zoë Kravitz is a homebound but electric-blue hair sporting computer analyst who works in an overly appointed Seattle apartment correcting voice assistant command results for a pre-IPO tech startup and discovers a snippet with a twist. The film takes place in a somewhat modern day metropolis with pandemic and political undertones, but Kravitz’s character is also agoraphobic, so there are double the reasons for her character to not want to leave home despite an ultimate wild goose chase of requirements to solve the central conundrum. The plot gets increasingly lively but can’t mask its status as a running retread. Soderbergh appears to be saying something about the human disconnects of a technically tethered world, but mainly his creation here is an under-baked trifle with an appealing central performance and a few cool suspense sequences. Even lesser Soderbergh contains some winning shots and ideas, but this one simply sneaks into the slipstream of mediocrity.
A quarter century of death stab for cutie culminates in the sights and sounds of settling. Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett’s 2022 reboot of Scream (C+), which is essentially the fifth movie in continuity in the meta horror whodunit series, takes place 25 years after the streak of fatal stabbings from the original film as a new killer dons the Ghostface mask and targets a group of teenagers to resurrect secrets from the small California town’s deadly past. The traditional cold open – this time featuring Jenna Ortega as the ingenue who gets a threatening phone call while alone at her house – is promising with its insider discussion of what makes an “elevated modern horror movie,” but alas the film that follows doesn’t further deliver on the premise to forge a more creative path with artier intentions. Instead we follow an ensemble of newcomers ranging from Melissa Barrera to Mikey Madison to Mason Gooding who are all given scant dialogue with which to work and collectively evoke minimal chemistry or empathy. Only Jack Quaid gets some funny throwaway lines as the character who perpetually states the obvious about the horror tropes the group is experiencing within the “rules of the requel,” kind of a sequel many years later bringing back familiar stars to extend a franchise. The film’s third act finally hits high gear as those original movie stars get their hand at revenge and redemption, with Neve Campbell, Courteney Cox and David Arquette all effective in resurrecting their wise and weary characters. The final thirty minutes is a hoot and while still not “elevating” the horror to any new plane at least delivers what fans of the series have come to expect and love: twists and turns of the knife and events. So ultimately the slow-burn pays off for the new directors taking over for the late Wes Craven , but it’s regretful the intro and finale have more impact than the sometimes sluggish songbook in between.
