Gavin Hood’s Eye in the Sky (A-) is a spectacular meditation on the costs of wars waged with drone spies and unmanned planes that can drop missiles with perfect precision and why the human element is still so powerful in waging a fair battle. There is a lot of waiting game and bureaucratic bickering that weighs down some of the film’s most cinematic possibilities, but the moral dilemma at the movie’s heart as an international coalition determines how to capture or destroy suicide bombers in Kenya without significant collateral damage will prompt some fascinating discussion. Helen Mirren is magnificent as a war room commander, and Aaron Paul is solid as the U.S. soldier with his hand on the trigger. While underused in much of the film as a British commander and negotiator, the late Alan Rickman gets some brilliant parting words. Barkhad Abdi is also effective a heroic accomplice on the ground, deeply humanizing the depths of the danger to friends and neighbors when terrorism strikes cities. The sheer voyeurism of the drone plots makes for some suspenseful sequences, but it’s the human cat and mouse game at the movie’s center that makes the narrative gripping. It’s an intellectual thriller that condenses one of the great debates of our time into a satisfying story.
The “some” of all things that Richard Linklater’s Everybody Wants Some!! (A) purports all people desire is becoming part of a loving and supportive community. Not really a spoiler if you admire this writer/director like I do! For the Texas student athletes hazing each other in the random days before university classes start, you’d never guess that this oft-imbibing tribe is an enduring community; but leave it to Linklater to capture a note-perfect ode to love and friendship. Blake Jenner is superb as the wide-eyed protagonist freshman, always equipped with a quip and the grip of an all-star baseball pitcher’s outstretched arm of gratitude. Glen Powell is a standout among a perfectly cast cavalcade of jocks as the wise, witty and literate ring-leader. And Zoey Deutsch scores one for the ladies’ team as a compelling theatre major love interest and perfect foil for all the frat-tactic acting out. Linklater’s fluid, episodic and unforced structure is just dandy for the lazy last days of summer as the college kids put on their different hats and try out different roles, quite literally in the dance clubs, country watering holes, house parties and dugout. The characters are sharp and funny and just vulgar enough to still be charming; and the through-line of tender acceptance and blossoming connections is a delight. The nostalgic ’80s vibe is perfectly evoked and the dreadful bro-couture consistently hilarious. Oneupmanship as the ultimate bond of brotherhood is carried out in sequences involving bongs, ping pongs and ’80s songs, often to revealing effect. The film is being billed as a spiritual sequel to Dazed and Confused, but it is really a continuation of the art of new love explored in the Before trilogy, the coming of age encountered in Boyhood and the rag-tag ensemble shenanigans of School of Rock. It’s a lark with lots of heart, and that’s quite an art.
Told with sincerity and cerebral grace, Jeff Nichols’ Midnight Special (B+) upends many conventions of the sci-fi and supernatural genres to deliver a memorable tale. Michael Shannon is highly effective as the father of an otherworldly child (Jaeden Lieberher) and along with a buddy nicely played by Joel Edgerton is secretly transporting the precious kid cargo from a religious sect in time for some sort of day of reckoning. With Sam Shepard in a small role as leader of a cult, Kirsten Dunst as the child’s estranged mom and Adam Driver as a preternaturally wise government agent, it’s unclear if we’re preparing for abductions, alien invasions or the rapture itself. Nichols sustains a slow-burn tension and a desaturated color pallet through most of the journey and employs very few special effects, aside from the kids’ light beam eyes that look like lens flairs that would be the envy of J.J. Abrams. The story leaves a variety of unsolved mysteries but will appeal to fans of M. Night Shyamalan’s early work. The acting is so subdued that you almost yearn for someone to go a bit nuts, and the one-note child performance leaves us a bit wanting. But the film will reward fans who appreciate the indie treatment to this kind of story.
There’s a fine line between a hot flash and a hot mess, and Sally Field plays nearly every facet of an amazing woman coming into her own late in life as the title character of Michael Showalter’s Hello, My Name is Doris (B+). Although some sequences and snippets of the screenplay veer into overly broad comedy (it’s no accident that Field’s supporting cast includes talented sitcom stars Max Greenfield, Wendy McLendon-Covey and Beth Behrs), the pulsing heart of the film is the protagonist’s journey of self-acceptance and renewal. After the death of the mother she cared for most of her adult life, Field’s awkward ad agency accountant becomes romantically fixated with Greenfield’s charming millennial creative director who has given her some suspicious side-glances. We are in delight watching Doris grow giddy as a schoolgirl; and while we root for her, we also ponder how to solve a problem like this sheltered high-flying “nun”-derkind breaking free of her self-imposed convent and getting her groove back. Showalter finds fun and pathos in the generational juxtaposition: everything old is cool again, from knitting clubs to artisan cocktails to day-glow vintage fashions. The film is every bit a commentary on ageism as it is a good-natured ribbing of hipster culture. Tyne Daly is a highlight in the best friend role of this unconventional romcom, and it’s nifty to see women in their sixties bond and bicker with the best of ’em. Grace notes include awkward set-ups and awakenings, a spirited soundtrack and an empathy for Doris even when we’re cringing at some of her most ill-advised antics. Field is really the reason it all works, and she brings out her best in playing the truth of her character while leveraging the subversiveness of her comedic chops. Equally resonant to all who are young at heart, this Hello is welcome.
It’s not completely clear what the ultimate Cloverfield continuity encompasses, but producer J.J. Abrams’ answer to an anthology series a la Steven Spielberg’s Amazing Stories or Ryan Murphy’s American Horror Story started with a 2008 found footage Godzilla thriller and in 2016 features a completely different set of characters and a storyline which may or may not occupy that same cinematic universe. Dan Trachtenberg’s eerie and suspenseful 10 Cloverfield Lane (B+) centers on a compelling performance by Mary Elizabeth Winstead held captive in a doomsday bunker by John Goodman in a sublimely creepy role with comic relief from John Gallagher, Jr., who is either a fellow captive or conspirator. Themes of gamesmanship are explored as the three characters play each other and confound audience expectations. There may or may not be a zombie apocalypse, alien invasion or full-out war breaking out beyond the survivalist lair. Trachtenberg succeeds in crafting a tense and taut succession of action set pieces within a confined space and with old-fashioned tools and techniques and a propulsive throwback score. He earns his scares and wins hearts with spot-on performances. The acting, especially by Winstead, is uniformly outstanding; and the thrills compound in the final act. You don’t need to know a thing going in, and don’t expect to know it all coming out; but this film is a rollicking good time. The rest is classified.
Wielding a war arsenal ranging from zingers to Zambonis, comfortable going commando for confrontations and partial to the musical stylings of Wham! to set the mood, the titular hero of Tim Miller’s Deadpool (A-) leapfrogs most recent films in the comic book genre in terms of both action and comedy in a single bound. Ryan Reynolds offers a career re-defining role breathing fleet-footed life into a wry, wisecracking mercenary that leaves Han Solo, Iron Man and Wolverine in the collective dust. His vulgar and animated antics are sensational. Morena Baccarin gives him a run for his money as his idiosyncratic lady love, and Ed Skrein is fantastic as the diabolical villain. The protagonist’s deal with the devil when facing a terminal cancer diagnosis sets the stage for a very different pathway into motivations ranging from romance to revenge that give the proceedings amped-up resonance. From the self-referential opening credits to musical montages that are note-perfect (you won’t soon forget the “Calendar Girl” sequence), Miller and the crackling writing team fashion a hipster antihero who is brash and brilliant. It’s a dark, profane, bloody and bonkers great time at the movies.
Where To Invade Next (A-) is a strange misnomer for writer/director Michael Moore’s most eye-opening and consistently accessible documentary to date, which is only tangentially about the military. In the film, the on-screen auteur stages a series of mock infiltrations into some of the great global societies to steal and stake claim to brilliant ideas and bring them back to the U.S. Sometimes a land grab and occasionally a grab bag, Moore’s trenchant travelogue transports us to schools in Finland and France, prisons in Norway, CEO roundtables of Iceland and the halls of government in Tunisia, to name just a few of his eye-opening encounters. The intrepid iconoclast of the progressive persuasion challenges all sorts of cultural assumptions and delivers plain-spoken innovations and surprising belief systems. The film is a spiritual sequel to his 2007 film Sicko in which Europeans frolicked in the bliss of their universal healthcare; but this movie is much more engaging and entertaining. Using his trademark humor and everyman interview style, he arrives at a profound thesis that many of the world’s great ideas did come from America; they just got lost a little bit on the journey. Moore speaks a little softer and carries a slightly less pulverizing stick, and it’s an entertaining and insightful lark. Those who choose to hear the provocateur’s message will be rewarded.
A Felliniesque fantasia on life, love and art, Paolo Sorrentino’s Youth (A-) is an answer to cinephile prayer. There will be many who dismiss this Swiss Alps resort set comedy-drama as pretentious drivel or avoid the film altogether for fear of glacial pace; but those seeking an appropriately contemplative requiem on the choices made in the sunset of life will treasure the movie’s nontraditional narrative structure, formalist art direction and unconventional approach to character development. Giving late career-best performances as an aging composer, filmmaker and actress, respectively, Michael Caine, Harvey Keitel and Jane Fonda (in a potent extended cameo) are a master class trio bearing wisdom and fortitude. They’re also really funny in their wry honesty. Rachel Weisz and Paul Dano are both strong as generational counterpoints. David Lang’s music, especially the work he created for Caine’s fictional composer, is sheer bliss. Sorrentino captures a grotesquerie of fascinating people against gorgeous backdrops in conversations that comprise a protracted art house aria. Like the film’s spas, green pastures and alpine wilderness, the film leaves room for characters to breathe and discover one another in harmony. Some may argue there’s very little plot, and they’d be pretty much right. But the film is impeccably perceptive in peeling back the layers of humanity and stripping its characters bare of the familiar. The wit and wordplay devised by an Italian writer/director is stunningly universal; and despite its older stars, this autumnal film beats with a youthful heart.
Andrew Nackman’s 4th Man Out (B+) is a funny and naturally charming comedy about a 24-year-old small-town everyman auto mechanic (Evan Todd) who comes out as gay to his entourage of three very heterosexual bros, played by a pack of TV comedy actors Parker Young, Chord Overstreet and Jon Gabrus. The dynamic of revealing his pent-up news to stunned, unsuspecting straight guys is rich territory for comedy and pathos, and the first-time filmmaker successfully delivers an indelible tale. Todd and Young in particular create a marvelous bond as they maneuver through the machinations of manhood and as the quartet redefines the rules of their relationships and routines. Hockey viewing, clubbing and poker night all take on a different lens with the hapless trio meaning well but hitting some awkward notes. Also compelling is Todd’s earnestness as he portrays a man trying on his newfound identity for size; he is a revelation in the role and carries the film’s emotional weight powerfully. Most of all, it’s frank and funny and plumbs an often unexplored dynamic. It was fun to watch a film evocative of some of my ’90’s favorites Chasing Amy and The Brothers McMullen.
The 1950’s New York City of Todd Haynes’ Carol (B+) is gorgeous to behold. A stardust fantasy inked in pinks, draped in lavender and spiced with holiday peppermint sticks, it is also home to a burgeoning forbidden romance between an unhappy housewife played by Cate Blanchett and a timid shopkeeper played by Rooney Mara. Haynes films key sequences of this slow-burn drama via raindrop covered glass panes, through architectural lines that separate characters from one another and in front of mirrors that reflect tender love blossoming amidst the suffocating funhouse of a society in transition. The lead actresses are note-perfect in their commitment to characters and provide a fascinating portal into the sometimes too formalist unfolding of the proceedings. Haynes may be the ideal director for this austere work, skilled at keeping his heroines and the audience at safe distance from their surroundings and capturing the longing of outsider protagonists hoisted in space and time to alien earthly environments. If folks are left wanting a bit more, well, that’s sort of the point.