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Posts Tagged ‘Don Johnson’

Aaron Pierre

“REBEL RIDGE” My rating: B (Netflix)

131 minutes | No MPAA rating

After “Rambo: First Blood” you’d imagine small town cops would think twice before  antagonizing a homeless military veteran possessing singularly deadly skill sets.

But, no.  Movie cops never learn. Especially the swaggering assholes that populate (in fiction, anyway) burgs like the one portrayed in “Rebel Ridge.”

This thriller (the title is fundamentally meaningless) offers a surprisingly thoughtful if viscerally devastating take on the “First Blood” scenario, giving us a nail biter that is also socially relevant.

Terry Richmond (a blindingly charismatic Aaron Pierre) is bicycling down a Louisiana highway, listening to heavy metal on his earphones…which is why he doesn’t hear the police siren behind him.

So right from square one he’s “refusing” to obey the orders of an officer.

Within minutes Terry is handcuffed and his backpack searched.  The two arresting cops (David Denman, Emory Cohen) discover more than $30,000 in cash.  Hmmmm….suspicious.

Terry  explains that he’s on the way to bail his cousin out of jail; to raise the funds he sold his car  and his stake in a restaurant.

The boorish cops  say the money may be the result of criminal activity, and so they confiscate it. And then let the incredulous and infuriated Terry go on his penniless way.

The opening moments of writer/director Jeremy Saulnier’s latest film are riveting.  Not only is Terry  legally robbed (“civil forfeiture,” as it is known,  is a much-abused practice that allows police to seize and keep any property they deem involved in a crime), but there’s the whole racial thing.  Terry is black; the cops are white.

Being a good citizen, Terry  wants to work through all the legal and proper channels. What he discovers is a police department (Don Johnson is the reprehensible chief) financed almost exclusively with the proceeds of civil forfeitures. The local court and its judge (James Cromwell) are in cahoots with the scheme.

Terry does find an ally in a young woman (AnnaSophia Robb) who works in the courthouse and has long suspected skulduggery. Together they team up in an effort to bring the bad guys down.

Turns out he has the wherewithal to do just that — as a Marine Terry taught hand-to-hand combat techniques.

With films like “Blue Ruin” (a brilliant thriller more interested in the emotional/ethical fallout of revenge than the act itself) and “Green Room” (members of a punk band are trapped in the dressing room of a neo-Nazi biker bar) Saulnier has proven adept at blending genre with provocative social sentiments.

“Rebel Ridge” is his most accessible effort to date.  It’s smart, tense, and yet it never devolves into a high-body-count fantasy.  It walks right up to the edge of overkill, but never crosses the line. 

Nathalie Emmanuel, Omar Sy

“THE KILLER” My rating: C (Peacock)

126 minutes | MPAA rating: R

John Woo’s “The Killer” feels uncomfortably like a parody of a John Woo movie.

All the trademarks of the Woo style are there, but they feel forced and phony. Even kinda silly.

The original “Killer” from 1989 was something of a cultural landmark, introducing a whole new audience to Hong Kong cinema, making an international star of leading man Chow Yun-Fat, and establishing Woo’s poetic/visceral approach to onscreen action.

So, why a remake? 

The big selling point, apparently, was switching the sex of the titular killer, a paid assassin having misgivings about career choices.

This killer, Zee, is played by Nathalie Emmanuel (“Game of Thrones”), an attractive young actress but not a typical movie glamorpuss…she’s able to get lost in the many  disguises and alternate personas her character employs to go about her bloody work.  She’s less compelling when wallowing in the off-duty angst that afflicts her character.

Zee has a handler (Sam Worthington) who years earlier rescued her from the streets and trained her in the art of assassination; he’s a father figure, but also kinda creepy.

Also a father figure but much more simpatico is a tailor (Tcheky Karyo) in whose shop our heroine finds respite from the pressures of the job.

The screenplay (by Woo, Brian Helgeland and Josh Campbell) roughly follows that of the original film, though this time around the setting is Paris (if nothing else, you can occupy yourself identifying the famous locations).

From the outset we know that Zee is having second thoughts about her job. She spends a lot of time in a deconsecrated church replete with dripping water and fluttering doves (throughout his career Woo has been obsessed with churches and doves); she regularly lights candles for her victims.

And as in the original our killer goes soft for a young woman (Diana Silvers) unintentionally blinded during one of Zee’s killing sprees. This puts her on a collision course with her shady employers, who view the now-sightless girl as a potential witness and want her dead.

(You might view this as a setup for a same-sex relationship, which would indeed be a novel twist in the Woo canon. But, no, Zee is asexual, her wardrobe of to-die-for outfits notwithstanding.)

There’s a whole second plot about a French detective (“Lupin’s” Omar Cy) on the trail of a heroin syndicate; like Dirty Harry he’s always being accused by his timid supervisors of going too far.  He starts out tracking down Zee , and ends up teaming with her.

Here’s the thing: “The Killer” is not only crammed with crime movie cliches, its tone is borderline operatic, as if big gestures could somehow compensate for the narrative overkill.

The action?  Yeah, it’s typical Woo, highly choreographed and utterly implausible. Almost cartoonish.

| Robert W. Butler

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Daniel Craig…Southern fried private eye

“KNIVES OUT” My rating: B (Opens wide on Nov. 27)

130 minutes | MPAA rating:

The genteel drawing-room murder mystery gets roughed up but emerges more or less intact in “Knives Out,” the latest from “it” director Rian Johnson (“Looper,” “The Last Jedi”).

What you’ve got here is a dead man, a house full of suspects (played by some very big names),  a Southern-gentleman detective who seems to have been dipped in molasses — and a gleefully satiric sense of humor.

Plus a lot of snarky attitude when it comes to privileged white folks.

The film begins with the housekeeper for famed mystery writer Harlan Thrombey (Christopher Plummer) discovering her employer’s corpse.  His throat has been cut.

Apparently the crime (if it is a crime…it might be a very bizarre suicide) took place shortly after Harlan’s 85th birthday party, an event attended by a pack of relations crammed into the old man’s semi-spooky turn-of-the-last-century mansion (described by one cop as “practically a Clue board”). Apparently the evening (which we see in flashbacks) was marked by some discord — old Harlan was no pushover and he loved rubbing his family’s noses in their inadequacies.

The local officer in charge of the investigation (LaKeith Stanfield) has his hands full with the various children, in-laws and others, all of whom seem to have some motive for killing their Sugar Daddy and a bad attitude when it comes to dealing with authority. So he’s mildly relieved when a famous private eye, Benoit Blanc (Daniel Craig), mysteriously shows up.

Benoit, who talks with a slow drawl so thick it drips sorghum, has been hired by an anonymous client to look into the case. He won’t stop until he gets answers. Think Matlock on Thorazine with a cannabis chaser.

Murder mysteries in this  vein (“Murder on the Orient Express,” “Gosford Park”) rely on a large cast of eccentrics to keep us engaged and guessing. “Knives Out” has a colorfully hateful bunch.

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Mel Gibson, Vince Vaughn

“DRAGGED ACROSS CONCRETE” My rating: B+

159 minutes | MPAA rating: R

With its loquacious cops and crooks and pages of dialogue devoted to the amusingly mundane (Quarter Pounders with cheese, egg salad sandwiches), “Dragged Across Concrete” will remind many of a Quentin Tarantino film, especially “Pulp Fiction.”

But it also bears comparison to Michael Mann’s “Heat,” for this curiously affecting crime epic (nearly three hours) is less about black and white than shades of gray.

Add to the mix Mel Gibson chewing on his best role in ages, and the latest from writer/director S. Craig Zahler (“Bone Tomahawk”) shapes up as an unexpected treat that digs into the viewer’s head and hangs around long after the lights come up.

At the center of this sprawling tale are a couple of police detectives — Ridgeman and Lurasetti (Gibson and Vince Vaughn) — who’ve drawn long unpaid suspensions for brutalizing a suspect.  Desperate for money, Ridgeman talks his reluctant partner into tailing a suave  criminal (Thomas Kretschmann); the hope is that he will lead the pair to some sort of drug deal or robbery that they can interrupt, making off with the cash and contraband.

Ultimately the two cops find themselves wading through the aftermath of a bloody bank heist. Few are left standing.

But around this dramatic core Zahler has introduced a big cast of characters — lawmen, criminals and common citizens caught in the crossfire — and given each enough backstory that we begin to identify with them on a much deeper level.

Gibson’s Ridgeman, for instance, is a tough street cop bitter that his refusal to schmooze has left his career in the dust. Now he’s coping with an ailing wife (Laurie Holden) and a teenage daughter terrified of the only neighborhood they can afford to live in. On the job Ridgeman may seem like semi-racist thug; at home we see a different side of the man.

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Diane Keaton, Jane Fonda, Candice Bergen, Mary Steenburgen

“BOOK CLUB”  My rating: C+

104 minutes | MPAA rating: PG-13

The advertising for “Book Club” tells us exactly what to expect. This vehicle for four fine actresses of a certain age (Diane Keaton, Jane Fonda, Candice Bergen and Mary Steenburgen) is basically “The Golden Girls” with Viagra. Don’t wait for surprises…there aren’t any.

The good news is that despite the self-congratulatory, nudge-nudge/wink-wink humor employed by director Bill Holderman and co-writer Erin Simms,  “Book Club’s” cast — not just the female leads but the male supporting actors as well — are solid enough that even a curmudgeonly viewer can take comfort in basking in the glow of so much collective talent.

The premise finds four women, pals since college days, who meet regularly to discuss a new book. They are:

The recently widowed Diane (Keaton), who is contending with the smothering attentions of her two grown daughters (Alicia Silverstone, Katie Aselton). They want to move Mom from L.A. out to their home in Arizona.

The vivacious Vivian (Fonda), a wealthy businesswoman and hotel owner who has never married and in fact refuses to sleep with men. Literally…she’ll bonk their brains out, but she won’t sleep with them, as that implies an intimacy she’s always avoided.

Sharon (Bergen) is a long-divorced federal judge more than a little peeved that her geeky ex-husband (Ed Begley Jr.) is now engaged to a braindead twentysomething blonde. She hasn’t had a date in 18 years.

Finally there’s Carol (Steenburgen), a successful restauranteur whose once-passionate marriage to Bruce (Craig T. Nelson) has hit the doldrums. Recently retired, he’s now more interested in servicing his old motorcycle than his wife. (more…)

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