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Posts Tagged ‘Ben Affleck’

Michael Townsend in a recreation of the secret mall apartment

“SECRET MALL APARTMENT” My rating: B+(Netflix)

92 minutes | No MPAA rating

It starts as a quirky news story, the sort of thing morning talk show hosts chat about between the really depressing news items.

In 2007 it was reported that the operators of the Providence Place Mall in Providence, R.I., had discovered a secret apartment in an unoccupied corner of the building.  For four years several local artists had been using it as a sort of clubhouse, occasionally spending the night in the unheated, unairconditioned space.  They had surreptitiously filled the area with thrift-shop furniture, a TV and a PlayStation.

From that tantalizing revelation filmmaker Jeremy Workman has fashioned a documentary that slowly expands to embrace not just the story of the secret apartment but an entire world view.

“Secret Mall Apartment” begins with the building of the mall in 1999.  Thie project encroached on the old buildings that provided studios and living space for local artists (Providence, home of the Rhode Island School of Design, evidently is rich with bohemian types). 

From the beginning the project rubbed many the wrong way.  The effort at gentrification not only displaced citizens, but once completed it was obvious that Providence Place was aimed at the well-heeled, not the struggling locals. And it was a death knell for area mom-and-pop retail outlets.

Curious about this leviathan of caste-conscious capitalism in their midst, eight artists from the neighborhood began exploring the imposing edifice.  Their leader was Michael Townsend, a red-haired string bean who first discovered the secret space and, ironically, became the only one of the squatters who faced criminal charges once the apartment was discovered. (In fact, Townsend refused to divulge the identities of his fellows; this film is the first time they have publicly acknowledged their participation.)

The key word here is “artist.” From the outset Townsend and his buds viewed their invasion of the mall as a sort of performance art — art that quietly defied the voracious system that had disrupted their community.

Perhaps the most amazing thing about all this is that the participants routinely recorded their activities with cheap video cameras purchased at the mall’s Radio Shack.  We can see them in action, struggling to move heavy furniture through crawl spaces and up steep ladders, even building a cinderblock wall (with mysterious locked door) to keep out intruders.

Of course their activities were secret, and some of their capers (like smuggling several tons of construction materials into the building while avoiding mall security) defy comprehension.  But it’s all here on scratchy videotape.

There’s more.  Townsend emerges as a sort of community-minded artist-as-angel.  Even while hanging out at the mall he created his own art form, using colored rolls of masking tape to make playful murals on the walls of a children’s hospital. In time the kids would make their own murals…which could be removed without damaging the paint job.

Very cool. In fact, Townsend turned his masking tape art  into a small business. His attitude permeates the film…playful, modest, unstoppably creative. Nevertheless, he’s been banned from the mall for life.

But here’s the cherry on the sundae:  “Secret Mall Apartment” played for a full year in the Providence Place Cinema inside the mall.

What goes around…

Ben Affleck, Matt Damon

THE RIP” My rating: C+(Netflix)
113 minutes | MPAA rating: R


“The Rip” is half a good movie…the first half.


The setup of Joe Carnahan’s thriller finds a unit of Miami cops mourning a fellow officer killed in what looks like a gangland hit.  Now they respond to a tip about strange goings on at a local house.


Members of the team (Matt Damon, Ben Affleck, Steven Yeun, Teyana Taylor, Catalina Sandino Moreno) find the place occupied by a young Hispanic woman (Sasha Calle) who claims to be preparing the house — her late grandmother’s — for sale.


Except that hidden in a  wall the team finds several million dollars in cash.  Clearly the local cartel has been using the place as a sort of safety deposit box.


And then they notice that all the other homes on the street appear to be unoccupied. Creepy.


Protocol requires that the money be counted on the premises…which means the bunch must spend several hours thumbing through stacks of money, all the while awaiting the arrival of well-armed sicarios.  Why doesn’t the team leader (Damon) call for reinforcements?


This is where “The Rip” goes out of control. The screenplay by Carnahan and Michael McGrale postulates that any one of the team may be a traitor.  In fact, there’s a possibility that someone high in the force’s chain of  command may be pulling the strings. No one can be trusted.


The film’s opening moments are an intriguing melding of world-weariness and growing tension.  With the discovery of the cash you can feel the noose tightening. 


But little by little “The Rip” devolves into a b-the-numbers action flick.  The cast is strong, but they’re at the mercy of the material.

Emily Blunt, Dwayne Johnson

“THE SMASHING MACHINE” My rating: B- (HBO Max)
123 minuts | MPAA rating: R


Dwayne Johnson gives what may be a career-high performance in Benny Safdie’s “The Smashing Machine.”


As real life UFC fighter Mark Kerr, the Rock is practically unrecognizable beneath prosthetics and wig.  He seems to effortlessly slip into the persona of a reasonably decent guy who is undone by frustrated ambitions and addiction.


Johnson’s nuanced, pain-wracked perf is only one surprise in “Smashing Machine.” The other is real life UFC star Ryan Bader, astonishingly good as Kerr’s training partner and probable future opponent Mark Coleman.


And then there’s Emily Blunt.  I’m a huge fan, but here she plays Kerr’s on-again, off-again girlfriend Dawn. Talk about a toxic relationship!!  Any film that can make me hate Emily Blunt has much to answer for. Despite the movie’s strong  points, I was left with a bitter taste in my mouth.


| Robert W. Butler

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Matt Damon, Ben Affleck

“AIR”  My rating: B  (Prime Video) 

111 minutes | MPAA rating: R


“Air” describes itself as “a story of greatness,” but exactly whose greatness is up for grabs.

Ostensibly the latest directing effort from Ben Affleck is  referring to the greatness of Michael Jordan, arguably the finest basketball player of all time and the namesake of Nike’s famous Air Jordan athletic shoe which debuted in 1984.  Except that we never see Michael Jordan in the film, save for some archival footage of him in action on the court.

Given Jordan’s physical absence as a character, one must go looking for other recipients of the “greatness” crown.

Well, there’s Nike founder and chief Phil Knight, portrayed by Affleck as a sort of Zen egoist who spouts woo woo philosophy while driving a bright purple sports car that cost more than what the average Joe earns in several years. Knight is an interesting oddball — practically an idiot savant — and good for some unintended laughs. But great? Nah. At best he’s a supporting character here.

A more likely candidate is Matt Damon’s Sonny Vaccaro, whose job is to sign up rookie NBA players with Nike sponsorships.  

Sonny — who apparently has no life beyond sneakers and sports — is an underdog visionary determined to recruit NBA newbie Michael Jordan to the Nike camp, beating down fierce competition from Adidas and Converse. Everyone tells Sonny that  his quest is Quixotic, that Jordan is an Adidas fan and that Nike’s measly budget for basketball shoe promotion (the company’s fortune lies with running foot ware) is embarrassingly limited.

Sonny may have a pot belly and puffy jowls, but he exhibits some signs of greatness.  He’s the little engine that could, who uses grit, determination and smarts to pull off a marketing miracle.  A prime example of good ol’ American capitalist can-do spirit.

And then there’s the Air Jordan itself, an eye-catching explosion of red leather and rubber. Can a shoe have a personality?  Maybe.  But it can sure generate cash…in 2022 more than $5 billion. By this film’s definition, that’s pretty damn great.

You’ve got to credit director Affleck and screenwriter Alex Convery with this at least — they elevate Sonny’s quest beyond the merely mercenary to the nearly mythic. Against our better judgment we find ourselves rooting for Sonny to pull off the marketing coup of the century.

Convery’s savvy screenplay features much Mamet-ish high-speed shop talk (various Nike conspirators are portrayed by the likes of Jason Bateman, Christ Tucker and Matthew Maher as the cellar-dwelling dreamer who actually hand crafts the first Air Jordan);  Chris Messina practically chews up the screen as David Falk, Jordan’s silkily venomous agent.

But the key to the movie may be the great Viola Davis as Michael Jordan’s mother, Deloris.  Early in the film Sonny is advised that “The mamas run stuff…especially in black families.”

Davis’ Deloris is both intimidating and huggable…a loving matriarch with a tough-as-nails business sense and an unshakeable faith in her boy’s value.  She makes Sonny improve his game.

There’s a beat-the-clock intensity at the heart of the film — Sonny and his colleagues must dream up and create an Air Jordan prototype in just one exhausting weekend — and the whole enterprise has been so cannily timed and bracingly acted that even those of us who care little about sports and even less about sports capitalism will find ourselves caught up in Sonny (and Nike’s) impossible dream.

|Robert W. Butler

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Ben Affleck, Tye Sheridan

THE TENDER BAR” My rating:  B (Amazon Prime)

106 minutes | MPAA rating: R

Will the real Ben Affleck please stand up?

I cannot think of another major actor — okay…Nicolas Cage — whose public persona ranges so widely between genius and ass-hat smirk monkey. 

One cannot dismiss successes like Affleck’s Oscar-winning “Argo”; at the same time the man’s personal and romantic ups and downs are a publicist’s nightmare and a constant inspiration for late-night talk-show monologues.

I’m happy to report that Affleck gives one of his best performances — hell, one of the best performances of the year — in “The Tender Bar,”  George Clooney’s knowing adaptation of J.R. Moehringer’s coming-of-age memoir.

Affleck is essentially a supporting player here but his work is so subtle, insightful and charismatic that all the tabloid baggage falls away and we are left in the thrall of an actor connecting perfectly with his character.

The rest of the film is no slouchfest, either. 

Early on young JR (played to perfection by first-timer Daniel Ranieri) and his mom (Lily Rabe) are forced by economic necessity to return to Mom’s blue-collar home town on Long Island. There they take up residence with crusty Grandpa (Christopher Lloyd), quiet Grandma (Sondra James) and especially JR’s uncle, Charlie (Affleck).

JR is essentially fatherless — his biological sire is a  boozing, womanizing, peripatetic radio deejay several years behind on the child support checks.  Under the circumstances one understands why the kid gravitates to his effortlessly suave uncle.

Charlie runs a working man’s bar filled with garrulous regulars.  Like young JR, Charlie is a huge consumer of good literature. At the same time, he never comes off as effete or uber-intellectual; he’s beloved by his dirt-under-the-nails customers for his arid irony, unforced toughness and down-to-earth humanism.

In effect Charlie and his barflies become JR’s adopted father figures, dispensing whiskey-fueled wisdom and (sometimes intentionally, often not) important life lessons.

Chsitopher Lloyd, Daniel Ranieri

The film wafts back and forth between JR’s boyhood and his young adulthood as an Ivy League university student bent on a literary career (he’s played at this age by Tye Sheridan).

We eavesdrop on his doomed love affair with an upper-middle-class fellow student (Briana Middleton); she’s the child of mixed-race parents who clearly think this proletarian yahoo isn’t nearly good enough for their daughter.

We follow him on his first foray into big-city newspapering.

And the film reaches a dramatic crescendo with a rare meeting of JR and his absent father (Max Martini) in which whatever dreams the kid may have of reconnection are dashed once and for all.

“The Tender Bar” is less a film of big dramatic moments than a gently unfolding idyll of self-discovery and familial nurturing. It’s wistful, warm and wise.

Affleck, Ranieri and Sheridan are terrific.  Also deserving of special notice is Lloyd, whose scraggly Grandpa turns out to be an incredibly smart guy hiding out in a seedy, grumpy-old-man exterior.  You can see where Uncle Charlie got his mojo.

| Robert W. Butler

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Ben Affleck

Ben Affleck

“THE ACCOUNTANT”  My rating: C+

128 minutes | MPAA rating: R

A killer with autism.

How has it taken Hollywood this long to glom onto such an awesome concept?

Consider: An efficient, ruthless assassin whose Asperger-ish condition guarantees that he won’t empathize with his targets no matter how much they beg. A stoic largely immune to crippling emotions like guilt, fear and panic. A wrecking machine who can pass for civil but at heart cannot create lasting attachments. An obsessive who, once he’s started a job, is driven to finish it.

I’d pay to see that movie.

Unfortunately, that movie isn’t “The Accountant.”

Oh, Ben Affleck’s latest makes noises like it’s heading that direction before deteriorating into silliness and mayhem. But the pieces never add up.

Affleck plays Christian Wolff, a CPA with an office in a south Chicago strip mall and a roster of mom-and-pop clients. But that’s only his cover.

In reality Christian is a mathematical savant and emotional cipher whose clients include drug cartels, mobsters, international arms dealers and other nasty folk. Whenever these crooks suspect that someone has been pilfering cash or cooking the books, they call in Christian to do a little forensic sleuthing.

With a mind like a mainframe computer, he always finds the culprit — who usually ends up in a landfill.

It’s dangerous work but pays well. In a rented storage facility Christian keeps an Airstream trailer packed with cash, weapons and authentic Renoir and Pollack canvases (which he has accepted from grateful clients in lieu of cash).

And as flashbacks reveal, he’s also deadly, having been trained by his military father in martial arts, ordnance, sniping and other skills that might be useful for a kid who is always being bullied.

The plot is set in motion when Christian is called in to audit a robotics firm where a lowly bean counter (Anna Kendrick) has stumbled across a bookkeeping anomaly. What our man finds puts both Christian and his gal pal in the crosshairs of an international criminal conspiracy. (more…)

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Rosamund Pike, Benn Affleck...in happier times

Rosamund Pike, Benn Affleck…in happier times

“GONE GIRL” My rating: A- (Opening wide on Oct. 3)

minutes | MPAA rating: R

The Affleck smirk — the way Ben Affleck, without even trying, looks like a high school halfback who has just initiated one of the new cheerleaders beneath the bleachers — is put to spectacular use in “Gone Girl.”

In David Fincher’s first-rate adaptation of Gillian Flynn’s dark suspense novel, Affleck plays a  handsome husband suspected of killing his beautiful wife, who has inexplicably gone missing. Here’s a poor jerk who — despite his best efforts to appear sympathetic in front of the cops, the cameras and the court of public opinion — can’t help coming off as insincere and smug.

Damn that Affleck smirk!

Or, rather, all hail the Affleck smirk, imbued as it is with ambivalence and leaving us uncertain about whether we should be cheering or booing the film’s protagonist.

That indecision could be problematical (moviegoers like being told what to think and feel), but “Gone Girl” nevertheless sucks us into the bitter (and bitterly funny) world fashioned by Fincher and Flynn (who adapted her own book for the screen — and in many respects actually improved upon the novel).

It’s a thoroughly satisfying mystery and suspense tale, sure, but “Gone Girl” also is one of the cinema’s most supremely cynical statements about the institution of marriage. It makes “The War of the Roses” seem warm and fuzzy.

And as if that wasn’t cake enough, we get for icing a hugely perceptive and bleakly comic depiction of the tabloid media, Internet opinion-making, and the astoundingly shallow fickleness of the American public.

There’s enough great stuff in here for three or four movies.  That Fincher (“The Social Network,” “Zodiac,” “Fight Club”) and Kansas City-reared Flynn keep it all in perfect balance is some sort of miracle.

(more…)

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