Tag Archives: Drama

Trio of Talented Actresses Give “Color Purple” Movie Musical New Life

There’s very little resisting Alice Walker’s most iconic work in any of its forms: the 1982 Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, the 1985 Oscar-nominated movie, the elaborate Broadway 2005 musical stage show or its even more acclaimed stripped-down 2015 revival. So don your lavender, orchid, magenta and violet hues and grab your best friends to enjoy another inspiring telling of this ode to sisterhood in a crowd-pleasing auditorium. Nobody ever told Shakespeare he’s been interpreted too much. Director Blitz Bazawule’s 2023 film adaptation of the book-turned-musical The Color Purple (B) does show some signs of wear, despite some jubilant applause-worthy moments. His fresh lens on the tale gets a little lost in translation as he tries to plumb the depths of the sharply drawn characters while giving them their due as singers too. For those just hopping on the bandwagon, the story traces forty years in the life of Miss Celie (Fantasia Barrino) who is torn from her sister and children in the rural South in the early 1900s and faces hardships including an abusive husband “Mister” (Colman Domingo). With support from a sultry singer named Shug (Taraji P. Henson) and her stand-her-ground stepdaughter Sofia (Danielle Brooks), Celie ultimately finds extraordinary strength in the unbreakable bonds of a new kind of female empowerment. This new production includes three iconic and melodic moments of sonic uplift so potent and a final reel so tearjerking and triumphant viewers may forget the film’s sluggish start. Bazawule reveals his exposition a bit too much like a “greatest hits” for those who know the story rather than discovering it fresh as the characters would experience it. He also doesn’t land exactly how to effectively execute the musical numbers – are they real or fantasy? lived-in or larger than life? – until he hits the stride of barnburners “Hell No,” “Push Da Button,” and “I’m Here.” This re-imagining is handsomely photographed, poignantly acted and has a stirring finale. Barrino is so good in the final reel that one might wish she was extended more of a showcase early on in the film. This new Purple is recommended for the timeless story, the strength of the ensemble and bursts of greatness that blossom just when you need something beautiful to savor.

Brotherly Love, Wrestling Nostalgia on Display in “Iron Claw” Drama

Wrapped in the ring-slinging theatrics of the wrestling world in its heyday, Sean Durkin’s biographical sports drama The Iron Claw (B) is ultimately a moving meditation on brotherhood. Chronicling the true story of the Von Erich family wrestlers, all bred to be polite, strong warriors by their domineering father (a fierce performance by Holt McCallany), an ensemble including the very committed troupe of Zac Efron, Jeremy Allen White and Harris Dickinson experiences the highs and lows of the dangerous sport. Efron gets maximum screen time and, aside from his brotherly bonding, is most engaging opposite Lily James as the woman who tries to draw him out of his single-minded shell. The movie never rises to heights of astonishing creativity or breakthrough filmmaking craft, but you will believe in the hard-scrabble tale of this family, and Durkin extracts earned emotional beats out of the brothers’ cursed existence. As the film depicts small-town Texas origins colliding with the hefty machinations of a federation in the making, those who have grown up watching this particular form of glam-macho entertainment will find its story engaging and its happenings nostalgic. Credit Efron in particular for drawing audiences into a tale of hometown boys lured into a larger than life scenario, reminiscent of tragic tales like The Outsiders or Boogie Nights. Even though the actors are ostensibly faking it, you will see their reality clearly. 

With “Maestro” Biopic, Cooper Takes on Too Much and Not Enough

There’s a lived-in performance at the center of Bradley Cooper’s latest opus about a troubled artist, even if the film’s construction doesn’t capture its subject quite as closely or precisely as the moviemakers would like to think they do. Cooper stars in and directs Maestro (B-), a quasi-biopic about the complicated composer Leonard Bernstein, especially seen through the lens of the heterosexual love of his life and mother of his children, Costa Rican TV actress Felicia Montealegre, played with grace and charm by Carey Mulligan. The film toggles between black and white and color largely to match the chronology of its time periods, with magical monochrome origins giving way to a more murky, rusty “Hollywood in the 70s” aesthetic. The two central actors are superb, but their soapy plot and tragic trajectories don’t reveal much about them as artists. The humanity of how they bond when the stakes are highest makes for some of the most affecting sequences. The film will largely be remembered for the intimacy of several loving conversations and one bombastic sequence of the master musician conducting. Otherwise it’s caught in a kind of middle ground with impressive performances at not much service of a theme.

“Zone of Interest” Feels Like a College Thesis Film Project Stretched to Feature Length

There’s rampant NIMBY sentiment, a dubious quality of life and hardly an HOA covenant that holds up under scrutiny in the most bizarre suburb depicted on screen since Stepford or Skinamarink. Jonathan Glazer’s sanctimonious historical drama The Zone of Interest (C+) operates under the high-concept conceit of what it was like to be next door to the Auschwitz concentration camp in the height of its horrors. The film is an austere, distanced dissertation on human complicity in an evil enterprise that rarely transcends its largely plot-free existence. The commandant of the concentration camp (Christian Friedel) and his wife (Sandra Hüller) nonchalantly go about their day-to-day life in a house and garden next to the site where mass genocide is taking place. Friedel and Hüller have thankless parts, with Hüller’s real-life Weimaraner dog the only sympathetic creature in the film’s foreground. Inert as it is, the movie is nonetheless gorgeously lensed, and the sound design is incredibly exacting as viewers constantly sense the shrieks and struggles going on outside the fences of the Nazi family’s pristine oasis. It’s unsettling, to be sure, but it doesn’t get any more interesting as the film progresses. There have been many Holocaust films with actual protagonists and various you-are-there techniques, but this is a POV first: depicting the human horrors at a distance with no sequences depicting good and evil interacting in the same frame. The premise of a home sweet home minutes from atrocity succeeds only in activating one’s mind about what’s not on the screen. It’s a noble notion and curious experiment, but it’s a sterile and staid sit.

Emerald Fennell’s Stylish “Saltburn” Loses Grip on its House of Cards

Like a triangle of sadness refracted through the lens of a glass onion, “eat the rich”parables have become played out parasites on the multiplex menu. Emerald Fennell’s curious sophomore outing, Saltburn (C+), is a mid-2000s set vodka stinger of a black comedy imploring viewers to examine the motivations of two Mr. Brightsides, the yearning nebbish Oxford scholarship recipient Oliver portrayed by Barry Keoghan and his half-hearted golden boy aristocrat schoolmate Felix played by Jacob Elordi. Pauper and prince become fast friends against the backdrop of a cruel summer of parties and people as playthings amidst the eccentric dynamic of the film’s titular palatial estate, home of much style and little substance. The characters’ motivations remain murky throughout the proceedings, leaving only two definitive takeaways: that the pulpy puzzle box of a production design is often absolutely divine and that Rosamund Pike is camp genius in her role as the rich family’s oblivious mum, Lady Elspeth Catton, whose blithe asides are bliss. In between MGMT and Arcade Fire needle drops and kinky sequences filled with body fluids rivaling Babylon, the story is feckless when it should be reckless in its drift toward a decadent denouement. Both wily leading men display ample charms but to diminishing returns. Fennell’s folly ultimately swirls and almost drowns in tepid bathwater evocative of the similarly plotted and far better thriller The Talented Mr. Ripley. Swim through this film’s sick lullabies and choke on its alibis at your own risk.

“Priscilla” is All Dressed Up with Nowhere to Go – and No Elvis Music in the Tri-State Area Near Graceland

After Baz Luhrmann’s maximalist telling of the life of the king of rock ’n’ roll, there was little choice for someone else showcasing aspects of the Presley legend but to swing the pendulum the other direction for a version of Elvis lore from a different point of view. Unfortunately, writer/director Sofia Coppola’s Priscilla (C) loses something in translation. The actress Cailee Spaeny as Priscilla Presley is the film’s main saving grace, playing the ingenue from ages 14 to 27 and not missing a beat with a tender, affecting and quiet performance. With a nostalgic gaze of loving pinks and lace, it’s clear Coppola is depicting a girl emerging into a world of which she’s never conceived, and there’s something fascinating about the delicate depiction of that optimistic wonderland. But opposite a low-energy, rather charisma-free version of Elvis, played with brooding mystery by Jacob Elordi, the chemistry just isn’t there; and watching the “14-year-old meets 24-year-old” courtship origins followed by abuse and adultery makes for a slow-burn descent into nightmare. It’s not enough of a barn-burner to present a compelling alternative memoir nor plot-driven enough to demand rapt attention. There’s also no Elvis music, with the bands Phoenix and Sons of Raphael adding whatever creative flourishes they can to the soundscape more to dramatize the title heroine’s interior life than to replace the iconic songbook. It’s a noble experiment of tone poem as feature film but doesn’t truly plum much depth out of its central characters or give them much to do once the shock of the age gap is handled. The auteur’s precious snow globe filled with home, hearth and an unconventional relationship is rather inert on its mantle and rarely gets all shook up.

“Anatomy of a Fall” is an Exhilarating Domestic Puzzle

Mountains of moral dilemma loom large as the secrets of an isolated family living in the French Alps become the sprawling stuff of courtroom drama in director/co-writer Justine Triet’s gripping masterpiece Anatomy of a Fall (Anatomie d’une chute) (A+). In a magnificent role and meticulous performance, Sandra Hüller stars as a steely novelist trying to prove her innocence in the mysterious circumstances of her husband’s death. Samuel Theis plays her troubled spouse, largely depicted in creative flashbacks; and the talented child actor Milo Machado-Graner portrays their pensive visually impaired son. The boy and his dog were the lone witnesses to the tragedy in the snow-capped terrain. Also very effective in their roles are Swann Arlaud as the protagonist’s wily lawyer and Antoine Reinartz as the hard-charging prosecutor, and the labyrinthine particulars of the complex French judicial system prove surprisingly entertaining and insightful. Triet consistently plays with point of view, with what she shows and what she doesn’t, as she spins the plates of austere human drama and confounds audience expectations about the table stakes and motivations of the film’s unconventional family. The fact the central character is a German who speaks English and attempts to speak French further clouds the issues at hand, creating layers of confusion and complexity around her outlook. Fans of crime thrillers will enjoy the procedural elements of the story, and the voyeuristic camera work and exacting pace leave lots of room for revelations and interpretations about the trappings of matrimony and the motivations of artists. Hüller’s bravura performance in particular anchors the family drama in cerebral shades. There are also some chilling implications for the role of perspective in determining the outcome of justice; and viewers are certain to have hot takes on Hüller’s icy character. This is brilliant, twisty human drama and among the best films of the year. 

“Rustin” Reveals the Man Behind the Movement and Colman Domingo at the Top of His Craft

Bringing a little-known real-life story to the screen, George C. Wolfe’s Rustin (B) is an effective and rousing biopic that just misses taking viewers completely under the surface. Bayard Rustin, played with virtuosity by Colman Domingo, is advisor to Martin Luther King Jr., and dedicated his life to the quest for racial equality, human rights and worldwide democracy. However, as an openly gay Black man, he is all but erased from the civil rights movement he helped build. The success of the film rests largely on Domingo’s shoulders, and he is clever and creative in capturing the mannerisms and intensity of a character organizing the historic 1963 March on Washington. Aml Ameen is also fantastic as MLK, and many of the film’s best sequences involve his engaged banter with the title character about various techniques to mobilize society and the machinery of government to see things their way. The screenplay shortchanges an exploration of Rustin’s most complex contours and instead focuses on by-the-books highlights. Wolfe is a renowned stage director and, despite overseeing a polished production, doesn’t much overcome the general talkiness of the material. Expect Domingo and Lenny Kravitz’s closing credits song to garner awards attention and audiences to rejoice in getting to encounter a tremendous historical hero.

Scorsese’s Epic “Killers of the Flower Moon” Examines Culpability in Being Our Neighbor’s Keeper

It wasn’t “one and done” when the west was won, and a new 1920s-set historical drama unfurls across the Oklahoma terrain with an operatic ferocity exposing an underbelly of unholy history repeating. Director Martin Scorsese divines American tragedy in an epic morality tale about how greed conquers goodness in Killers of the Flower Moon (B+), bringing his thoughtful themes, genius lensing and sometimes uneven take on how white capitalists endeavored to wipe out the oil-rich Osage Indians by infiltrating their families and stealthily silencing or assassinating those blocking them from bounty to which they feel entitled. Scorsese protracts his story through a hefty running time and across the landscape of a handsome production design to show how a simmering cauldron of corruption takes root and manifests. Two of the directors’ lifelong muses Leonardo DiCaprio and Robert De Niro play the Everyman turned unwitting criminal and his cattle baron uncle and mob puppeteer (fittingly named King), respectively, and it’s powerful work from both talented actors. In a quiet, soulful and often sidelined performance, Lily Gladstone plays the woman capable of standing in the way of their toxic machinations; it seems like a missed opportunity to have not brought her front and center more often, nor was it completely clear when or if she was privy to the men’s schemes. The film is strongest in its quiet and graceful sequences of trouble seeping its way into frontier paradise, and the story and pacing are slightly askew and rushed in presenting crime drama tropes about the nascent FBI. Even some of the set pieces of jails and courthouses paled in comparison to the first and second act’s ornate boomtown aesthetic. The music by the late Robbie Robertson is a standout throughout. Several choices detracted from the central story and themes; you’ll know them when you see them. But it’s still a stirring work well suited to its perpetually pensive and powerhouse auteur.

The discussion continues on our Seeing is Believing podcast exploring the deeper meaning behind films:

Two Wonderful Performances Buoy Inspiring “Nyad” Sports Drama

Epic odysseys featuring protagonists traversing earth’s vast waters can add another legend to maritime mythology as Annette Bening assumes the titular role of Diana the sixtysomething marathon swimmer in Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi and Jimmy Chin’s Nyad (B+). Bening is a fascinating force of nature in the role of a real-life iconoclast who harbors the dream of completing an aquatic journey from Cuba to Florida despite the incredible odds of advanced age, scant resources, wily weather and unpredictable wildlife. Jodie Foster gives a wonderful performance as Bonnie, her longtime companion and coach, a warm hug of a character opposite the acerbic braggadocio of the natator. Rhys Ifans is also wonderful as the crusty, trusty boat captain who helps the ladies keep course; he’s a marvelous grounded foil to the dogged dreamers. The film logs quite a few nautical miles showcasing futile attempts at conquering the perils of the sea; and although often riveting and gorgeously filmed, the submerged sequences are not as entertaining as the story strands depicting the central women intertwined in their own strangely codependent relationship dynamics. The highest highs and lowest lows of Nyad’s Quixotic endurance test are secondary to the power of the two superb actresses supporting and sparring with one another. This sports drama is a singular showcase of steely women with resolve; it projects power and pride. There are quibbles with how some of the flashback are handled, but mostly the filmmakers triumph with an entertaining you-are-their vibe. Audiences will be spellbound to float with this G.O.A.T.

Musical Drama “Flora and Son” Full of Grace Notes

John Carney’s music-infused films – Once, Begin Again and Sing Street– chronicle lost souls tuning into one another via the art of song, and his latest, Flora and Son (B), sticks close to his finely tuned formula. Eve Hewson and newcomer Orén Kinlan are fabulous as the titular characters, a single mother and a troubled teenager looking for meaning in hardscrabble Dublin. Flora, estranged from her bassist husband (Jack Reynor’s charm makes him hard to hate) and in search of a higher calling, finds a California-based virtual guitar teacher, the roguish and rhythmic Joseph Gordon-Levitt, and soon the central quartet of characters gets its groove back through common craft. Despite the strength of the performances, the story and song quality aren’t quite up to the Carney measure of excellence, and the brisk tale somehow feels awkwardly truncated. Still, the way these characters connect has mountains of magic in it. Full of acerbic wit and Irish sting, Hewson is singular in her role and quite irresistible. She and Gordon-Levitt have undeniable chemistry. It’s now abundantly clear what to expect from a Carney film, and fans of the auteur should have plenty of humor and harmony to enjoy. (Sept. 29 on Apple TV streaming service)

Faith-Based “The Hill” (2023) Keeps Eye on Inspirational Ballgame

This biographical baseball film has three strikes against it: its acting roster is somewhat inconsistent, it fouls up some of its central notions about the limits of faith and it slides in too many familiar sports movie tropes – but even so, it’s largely a rousing run around the bases of feel-good sentiment. An earnest true-life story of a little-known sports miracle, Jeff Celentano’s The Hill (B-) is equal parts formulaic and inspirational. The central slugger who overcomes a handicap in order to try out for a chance at the big leagues is a real guy from history named Rickey Hill. He’s played effectively as a plucky child by the very talented Jesse Berry and as a twentysomething by Colin Ford, who is likable but not quite as natural. Dennis Quaid portrays his pastor father, who seems a bit world-weary in his stubborn role; the actor is powerful even if he never fully matches the age of his character (mercifully, no Indy 5 de-aging effects were employed). Scott Glenn as the legendary MLB scout and Bonnie Bedelia as the screenplay’s deus ex machina (a.k.a. the Hill family’s truth-telling grandmother) make lively impressions as the even more elder states-folk of the proceedings. The film is photographed in nostalgic tones which undergird its old-fashioned themes as the overprotective dad evokes unswerving devotion to religion as an excuse to forbid his son from a potentially disappointing career in baseball that will likely ruin the frail body behind his brawny batting arm. The script insists pop’s stalwart overprotection is somewhere beyond that of the parents in Footloose or Carrie, which gets far-fetched and tedious. Of course the staunch won’t short-change the launch. Still, when the inspirational sports and emotional moments work their magic, cheers and waterworks spring forth. There are some nice sequences of subtlety early in the film showcasing observant familial and congregational traditions which get mostly jettisoned for the inevitable montage sequences and grand finale. The movie is genial family entertainment and deftly demonstrates the majesty of both belief in a higher power and belief in a disciplined work ethic to field one’s dreams.