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Archive for February, 2016

Theo Rossi, Michael Harney and Karen Allen

Theo Rossi, Michael Harney and Karen Allen

“BAD HURT” My rating: B

101 minutes | No MPAA rating

More than three decades after winning our hearts in “Raiders of the Lost Ark,” Karen Allen reveals herself to be an actress of heartbreaking power.

In Mark Kemble’s “Bad Hurt” she plays Elaine Kendall, matriarch of a struggling blue collar household in New York’s Staten Island. It’s a family threatening to spin apart at any moment; only Elaine’s monumental determination keeps it more or less whole.

The Kendalls have been dealt a tough hand.  Their oldest child, Kent (Johnny Whitworth) has returned from Middle Eastern duty a drug-scarfing wreck literally living in the attic. No job, no prospects. Even the V.A. is tired of dealing with him.

Their second child, DeeDee (Iris Gilad) is a four-year-old mind in a 35-year-old body. Though she works assembling cardboard boxes for a company that caters to impaired individuals, she must be constantly watched. Particularly concerning is her relationship with another developmentally developed young man who, she says, “put his fingers in me.”

The third and final Kendall offspring is Todd (Theo Rossi, Juice on TV’s “Sons of Anarchy”), who drives a shortbus for neighborhood retirees and dreams of becoming a police officer, although he has failed the entrance exam numerous times. He may be a borderline loser, but compared to his siblings Todd is a paragon of responsibility.

The strain of dealing with the kids for so many years has driven Elaine’s husband Ed (Michael Harney of “Orange is the New Black”) to drink. He’s currently on the wagon, but a relapse might happen at any time. Meanwhile the Kendalls’ marriage is shaky — Ed has moved out to a makeshift bedroom in the backyard garage.

It’s a tense, frequently explosive yarn, with just about every cast member getting at least one big moment.

And it comes as no surprise to learn that writer/director Kemble (here adapting his stage play with co-writer  Jamieson Stern) has a sibling with developmental problems. The film’s depiction of DeeDee and her infantile but genuine love for her co-worker Willie is tender, sad and often unexpectedly funny. (And you’d best believe “Bad Hurt” needs all the comic relief it can muster.)

This is Kemble’s first feature film, and for the most part it works. Once we accept that one family could face so many obstacles, the film gets to work illustrating the ways in which we humans deal with the weight of so heavy a load.

 

| Robert W. Butler

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(Clockwise from left): Tugba Sunguroglu, Ilayda Akdogan, Gunes Sensoy, Elit Iscan and Doga Zeynep Doguslu

(Clockwise from left): Tugba Sunguroglu, Ilayda Akdogan, Gunes Sensoy, Elit Iscan and Doga Zeynep Doguslu

“MUSTANG” My rating: B+ (Opens March 26 at the Tivoli)

97 minutes | MPAA rating: PG-13

The Oscar-nominated (for best foreign language film) “Mustang” already has been denounced in some quarters as anti-Islamic and/or anti-Turkish.

But the true target of writer/director Deniz Gamze Erguven’s remarkable film is patriarchy, a social system hardly exclusive to any one religion or country.

At first glance this effort from Erguven (born in Turkey but since adolescence a resident of France) and co-writer Alice Winocur  looks like a clone of Sofia Coppola’s 1999 “The Virgin Suicides.”

In a seaside Turkish burg five orphaned sisters (their ages range from 10 to 16) are being raised by their grandmother, who does the nurturing, and by a bachelor uncle, a lawyer who by virtue of his sex is considered the head of the household and the last word on all matters involving his wards.

As the film begins the girls have just been freed for summer vacation and celebrate by romping in the surf with several boys from their school.  They’re all fully dressed and, by Western standards, their play seems harmless enough.

But some busybody notices the girls riding on the shoulders of the boys as they joust in the waves, and word gets back to Uncle Erol (Ayberk Pecan), who goes ballistic at the impropriety of it all. The girls are accused of salaciousness and subjected to medical exams to ensure that they remain virgins.

It’s not so much that the girls are rebellious as they are naturally happy, rowdy, mischievous young people. Granted, the fierce energy exhibited by these beautiful “mustangs” has an unmistakably sexual component, but the girls know the ground rules.  Even the oldest, Sonay (Ilayda Akdogan), who sneaks out at night to be with her boyfriend, confides to her siblings that she practices anal sex so that she can go to her wedding a virgin.

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triple-9-dom-195_192_T9_KA_R34_RV_3_W10_SL_rgb-e1444670190309“TRIPLE 9” My rating: C+

115 minutes |MPAA rating: R

John Hillcoat’s new crime thriller “Triple 9” is only slightly less apocalyptic than his film of Cormac McCarthy’s “The Road.” And “The Road,” of course, was about the literal end of the world.

With a big cast of fine actors (few of whom, oddly, get to do much acting) and a sprawling urban canvas reminiscent of Michael Mann’s “Heat,” this is the story of one-time good guys who are now bad guys.

Terrell (Chiwetel Ejiofor) and Russell (Norman Reedus) are former military special forces types now earning a living planning big capers on behalf of the Russian mob.  As the film begins they’re pulling off a daring bank robbery that almost goes south (and leaves them covered in red dye) thanks to Russell’s loser brother, Gabe (Aaron Paul).

Chietol Ejiwifor

Chiwetel Ejiofor

Terrell and Russell are so effective at what they do because they have inside help. Marcus (Anthony Mackie) and Jorge (CliftonCollins Jr.) are police detectives gone rogue. They not only help in planning these crimes, they suit up to participate. And then they help the thieves cover their tracks.

To say that these guys lack a moral compass is an understatement. Matt Cook’s screenplay never asks why or how our protagonists were corrupted; certainly the characters aren’t into soul searching.

But the result is a taut film that feels weirdly uninhabited…as a viewer I’d be at least as interested in how these guys came to this low ethical state as I am in the mechanics of their heists.

Their saving grace is that as bad as they are, they aren’t as bad as the Russian crime tsarina Irina (Kate Winslet), who’s about as hard a lady as you could ever meet.  For this tough cookie pulling the teeth of a couple of miscreants, locking them  in a car trunk and setting the whole thing on fire is all in a day’s work.

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Hugh Jackman, Taron Egerton

Hugh Jackman, Taron Egerton

“EDDIE THE EAGLE”  My rating: B- 

 144 minutes  | MPAA rating: PG-13

In the movies, a great story trumps just about every other consideration.

“Eddie the Eagle” is a stolidly inartistic effort burdened with washed-out cinematography, just-OK special effects and a faux-Vangelis soundtrack.

But the more-or-less real-life yarn it tells is such a laugh-inducing, lump-in-the-throat-producing audience pleaser that criticism is beside the point.

The 1988 Winter Olympics in Calgary, Alberta, gave us the Jamaican bobsled team, subject of the 1993 film “Cool Runnings.” But another oddity of those games was Eddie Edwards, a geeky Brit who showed up as the sole member of his country’s ski jumping team.

Eddie, who had taken up the sport only a year earlier, was clearly out of his league competing against the world’s best. But his goofball personality and obvious love of the sport won over the crowds, who dubbed him Eddie the Eagle and made him a celebrity.

In Dexter Fletcher’s film, Eddie is played by Taron Egerton, who in “Kingsman: The Secret Service” played the street punk who becomes a sophisticated James Bond-ish spy. Here he’s virtually unrecognizable, hiding behind a blond mop, bottle-bottom eyeglasses and an expression of earnest bewilderment.

Far from being a suave secret agent, Egerton’s Eddie is more like Forrest Gump. He’s not feeble-minded, exactly, but he’s childlike enough to believe that dreams come true. And just bright (and lucky) enough to figure out how to get there.

The screenplay by Sean Macaulay and Simon Kelton plays fast and loose with the facts of Eddie Edwards’ life and quest for Olympic immortality. What it gets right, though, is their subject’s never-say-die determination.

In a brief prologue we see Eddie as a boy with “weak knees” and a leg brace that squeaks with every step. Despite a near-total lack of athletic ability, he obsesses about competing in the Olympics. (more…)

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**, Maggie Smith

Alex Jennings, Maggie Smith

 

“THE LADY IN THE VAN”  My rating: B

104 minutes | MPAA rating: PG-13

Imagine Maggie Smith’s Dowager Countess  from “Downton Abbey” as an imperious, demanding bag lady.

That’s the premise of “The Lady in the Van,” and it is less off putting than this description suggests.

For one thing, it’s based on real events.  Playwright Alan Bennett, who wrote the screenplay from his memoir, was for years host to Miss Shepherd, an old lady who lived in his London driveway in a series of rusting vans.

For this act of charity he was routinely dismissed by his ungrateful guest, who had her own way of doing things and saw no reason to change. Apparently she believed that this preferential treatment was rightfully hers.

The film from Nicholas Hytner (“The History Boys,” “The Madness of King George”) chronicles that bizarre relationship, which went on for 15 years.

There’s a temptation to regard Bennett (played by Alex Jennings) as some sort of saint. (After all, this “houseguest” saw to her bodily functions simply by squatting in the drive.)

So that we’ll know that Bennett wasn’t a holy fool or a complete sucker, he has written into the screeenplay conversations with himself.

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Stephen James (right) as Olympian Jesse Owens

Stephan James (right) as Olympian Jesse Owens

“RACE” My rating: B-

134 minutes | MPAA rating: PG-13

“RACE”  2 1/2 stars   PG-13   134 minutes

Eighty years, a world war and a civil rights revolution later, the story of Olympic track star Jesse Owens still packs a wallop.

Here was an African-American athlete who had to endure racism at home yet became the standard bearer for the American Olympic team at the 1936 Berlin games, winning a record four gold medals.

Owens provided so conclusive a refutation of Nazi racial theories that Adolf Hitler left  the stadium so he wouldn’t be photographed congratulating a black man.

As you’d expect, “Race,” the cleverly-titled film about the ’36 games — is inspiring. But it is also insipid.

When it’s dealing with the big issues of history and race, this film from director Stephen Hopkins (“The Ghost and the Darkness,” “Predator 2” and a ton of TV) generally gets it right, placing Owens’ achievements against a background of discrimination and political upheaval that makes them all the more impressive.

On the level of personal drama, though, “Race” feels like a standard-issue sports movie: not exactly wince-worthy, but cliched and superficial.

But, hey, you can’t be too disappointed in a film that offers as one of its characters the great German documentarist Leni Riefenstahl.

The screenplay by Joe Shrapnel and Anna Waterhouse alternates between Owens’ personal story — that of a high school track star who wins a scholarship to Ohio State University, sets world records and aims for the Olympics — and the societal and political convulsions of those years.

In the private story line Jesse (“Selma’s” Stephan James) gets tough love from track coach Larry Snyder (KC’s Jason Sudeikis, in his first serious dramatic role). He becomes famous, falls for a fancy lady, then thinks better of it and seeks forgiveness from the hometown gal (Shanice Banton) by whom he has a young daughter.

But it’s pretty obvious that training montages and an unremarkable romance didn’t inspire the screenwriters. What lights their fire is the chance to re-create the world of the 1930s.

For example, at a meeting of the U.S. Olympic Committee, member Jeremiah Mahoney (William Hurt) squares off against chairman Avery Brundage (Jeremy Irons) over whether, by going to Berlin, American athletes are endorsing Naziism. The scene plays like a moral and intellectual battle of giants. (more…)

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Michael Moore

Michael Moore

“WHERE TO INVADE NEXT” My rating: A-

110 minutes | MPAA rating: R

“Where to Invade Next” may be the most insidious, subversive movie of Michael Moore’s career.

Here’s why it’s so sneaky.  It doesn’t insult anyone.

Instead it is (outwardly, anyway) unrelentingly upbeat, focusing on ways to make life better for Americans — all Americans.

Of course, ever the prankster, Moore takes as his modus operandi an “invasion” (complete with large American flag that rarely leaves his hands) of various foreign countries. The idea is to liberate from these cultures ideas for better living.

Call it saber-rattling in the name of peace.

The upshot of this is that even Michael Moore haters may find themselves nodding in agreement as “Where to Invade Next” progresses. For despite Moore’s trademark snarkiness (here tamped down to a gentle gee-whiziness), “Where to Invade Next” is a borderline profound experience.

Traveling to Italy, Moore hangs with the owners of the Ducati motorcycle company, where employees take long lunch hours and get at least four weeks of vacation. The company’s CEO stuns the visiting Yank by stating matter of factly that “There is no clash between the profit of the company and the well being of the people.”

Meanwhile a young Italian couple who “adopt” Moore are amazed that in America vacations are not mandated by law. Nor is paid maternity leave for new moms. They rethink their dream of a life in the good old U.S.A.
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Geza Rohrig

Geza Rohrig

“SON OF SAUL” My rating: B+

107 minutes | MPAA rating: R

Holocaust movies are so ubiquitous that most of us simply tune them out.  First, they’re a downer and, second, haven’t we seen it all before?

Well, no. At least not in the case of “Son of Saul,” Hungarian director Laszlo Nemes’ first feature, which approaches the horrors of Hitler’s “final solution” from a unique and soul-rattling vantage point.

Our  “hero” is Saul (Geza  Rohrig), a member of a sonderkommando unit at a Polish death camp.  The sonderkommandos were Jews spared to do the dirty work for their German captors. After several months they, too, faced execution.

A typical day for Saul involves rising early, meeting a trainload of newcomer Jews, and herding them through the camp to the  death house (he’s like a blank-faced elementary school crossing guard).

There the condemned are told that before receiving a meal and job assignments they should disrobe for a shower. They are reminded to remember the number of the hook where they have hung their clothing.

Once these new victims have been locked inside the death chamber, Saul and his fellow workers try to ignore the screaming and pounding. They search the clothing for valuables. Later they will cart the bodies away to be burned and scrub away the blood and feces to make way for the next batch.

All this is depicted in one long, uninterrupted take.  It would be unbearable save for the presentational style Nemes has adopted.

Typically the only thing in focus is Saul’s face (sometimes the back of his head) which fills most of the frame.  To the right and left, blessedly out of focus, we can make out piles of naked bodies and screaming German guards.

It’s a brilliant visual representation of how sonderkommandos  like the inexpressive Saul avoid going mad:  They look straight ahead, try not to taken in details, try to see the soon-to-die not as individuals but as a weeping, shuffling mass.

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touched“TOUCHED WITH FIRE” My rating: B+

110 minutes | MPAA rating: R

Mental illness is a fairly common topic for the movies, but “Touched With Fire” is something special — a film that puts the viewer in the shoes of the sufferers/celebrants.

Instead of watching from the outside we experience the joys (yes, there are some) and terrors of manic depression.

Katie Holmes and Luke Kirby (one of those familiar faces to whom you cannot put a name) play Carla and Marco, who meet in a psych ward. Both are poets — she’s a published author, he’s into spoken-word performances — and both have gone off their meds.  They soon embark on a romance.

While in the manic phase of their illnesses they are energetic, wildly creative and supremely self-confidant, certain that they are among the blessed few chosen to live life with such glorious intensity. And they believe their relationship is  invulnerable and totally fulfilling.

And then, as it must, the “down” side of their bipolar beings kicks in. It gets ugly.

“Touched With Fire” was written and directed by Paul Dalio, himself a manic depressive. Not only does he nail the disorder’s emotional roller coaster, but he acknowledges that mental illness may be a key to creativity. (“Would we have ‘Starry Night,'” a defiant Marco asks, “if Van Gogh had been on his meds?”)

The film takes the title of Kay Jamison’s 1996  non-fiction best seller which argues that most of history’s great artistic geniuses were manic depressive. (Jamison even shows up late in the film for a somewhat unnecessary cameo as herself.)

 

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George Clooney

George Clooney

“HAIL, CAESAR!” My rating: C+ 

106 minutes | MPAA rating: R

The Coen Brothers’ “Hail, Caesar!” isn’t much of a movie, but as an affectionate (mostly) valentine to the Golden Age of Hollywood filmmaking, it’s a generally enjoyable goof.

The threadbare plot devised by Joel and Ethan Coen provides the siblings with multiple opportunities to go behind the scenes at the massive (and fictional) Capitol Movies studio in Los Angeles in the late 1940s.

We get to watch as America’s fantasies are brought to life. But as with sausages and laws, sometimes it’s best not to know how they’re made.

Kicking the yarn into motion is the kidnapping of stiffly handsome matinee idol Baird Whitlock (George Clooney), whose current assignment is to play a Roman centurion in the biblical epic “Hail, Caesar!”

The studio’s production chief, Eddie Mannix (Josh Brolin) gets to work recovering his ransomed movie star.

That’s about it for story.

The pleasures of “Hail, Caesar!” (the Cohen Brothers movie, not the “tale of the Christ” being filmed on the Capitol lot) are to be found in its satire/celebration of iconic Hollywood personalities and situations.

Early on Eddie must convene a meeting of faith leaders who have been asked to comment on the screenplay for “Hail, Caesar!” — it’s the movie’s funniest scene and a wickedly barbed sendup of institutionalized religion.

Channing Tatum

Channing Tatum

Eddie must contend with the potty-mouthed Esther Williams-type star of aquatic musicals (Scarlett Johansson) whose mermaid outfit now won’t fit because of pregnancy (she’s unmarried).

He drops off the ransom money on a soundstage where a Gene Kelly-ish song and dance man (Channing Tatum) is shooting a big production number about a crew of sailors dismayed at the prospect of eight months at sea without women.  Not only are Tatum’s acrobatic musical comedy skills first rate, but the slyly homoerotic elements of the dance routine suggests that these Navy swabs will find ways to let off steam during their voyage.

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