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Posts Tagged ‘” Ewan McGregor’

Colin Farrell

“SUGAR”(Apple+):

The year’s biggest gotcha!!! moment arrives at the end of Episode 6 of “Sugar,” and it’ll leave you reeling.

And that’s all I’ll say about that.

But there’s plenty of other stuff to relish in creator Mark Protosevich’s smart, stylish and thought-provoking re-examination of classic private eye tropes.

Colin Farrell is at his absolute best as John Sugar, a private investigator specializing in missing person cases.  

Noir usually requires a protagonist who is essentially honest but bummed out and bitter, a guy sickened by the corruption of the big city but driven to discover the truth.

Sugar, though, loves L.A.  For him it’s like a trip to Disneyland.  For one thing, he tools around town in a vintage Corvette convertible while sporting immaculately tailored suits. Even when facing down despicables he’s gentlemanly, more curious than judgmental.

Moreover, he loves working in the motion picture capital of the world. One  of the show’s cleverest conceits is that he’s always encountering characters and situations that remind him of classic films…and brief clips from those films are scattered reverentially throughout the series.

It’s been said that everything we need to know we learned in kindergarten.  John Sugar learned  it watching movies.

Sugar’s current case involves the disappearance of a young woman bred of Hollywood royalty.  Her grandfather (James Cromwell) is a financial titan; her father (Dennis Boutsikaris) is a ruthless producer, and her half-brother (Matt Corddry) is a former child star now wallowing in a drug-infused career burnout.

Sugar appears to have no close friends (an abandoned dog becomes his main bud), though he has a sort of Girl Friday (Kirby) who assigns cases to him and is always warning against getting too involved with the clients.

And in the course of the investigation Sugar finds himself spending time with the missing girl’s one-time stepmother (Amy Ryan), an actress and recovering alcoholic who finds herself attracted to this cooly empathetic white knight.  (Aside from the missing persons case, the series’ biggest mystery is whether these two will ever make a romantic connection.)

Now all this sounds intriguing enough, but it’s only a prelude to the mind-blowing reveal that comes halfway through.

“Sugar” is so good it’s worth subscribing to Apple+ just for this one series.

Ewan McGregor, Alexa Goodall

“A GENTLEMAN IN MOSCOW” (Paramount +):

Ewan McGregor gives what may be a career-high performance in “A Gentleman in Moscow.” 

He’s so good that one is willing to overlook some of the production’s flaws just to luxuriate in his presence.

Based on Amor Towles’ best-selling novel, “Gentleman…” over eight episodes follows the life of Alexander Rostov, a Russian count caught up in the Revolution.  

Being rich, cultured, erudite and well-educated, Alexander seems destined for a firing squad.  He’s saved when he is credited (erroneously) with composing a popular pro-Communist poem; instead of death he is sentenced to spend the rest of his life in Moscow’s Metropol Hotel.

Which is ironic, since the Metropol, an art nouveau masterpiece, is a last bastion of Western decadence in the economically devastated USSR. The Communist Party uses it as a showplace so foreign visitors can experience posh accommodations while the rest of the country starves.

 Alexander may be an impoverished prisoner sleeping in a frigid attic room, but he’s free to move about the building, to hobnob with guests and staff.  He becomes a waiter…and the in-house wine expert. And he even creates his own secret salon, a sort of throwback to his former life of luxury, this time furnished with pilfered items.

The heart of McGregor’s interpretation lies in Alexander’s mix of fatalism (the old world order is gone and isn’t coming back) and his innate humanism, which allows him to see the good in all people (though in the case of certain Party die-hards, it’s a rough go). And despite his view of himself as a loner, he becomes a father — twice.

There are four basic plot threads interwoven here.

Initially there is  Alexander’s relationship with Nina (Alexa Goodall), the daughter of a hotel guest who becomes his best friend and guide to the wonders of the hotel (the child  has somehow gotten her hands on a master key.) Years later, after the grown Nina and her husband become victims of a Stalinist purge, Alexander will care for their daughter Sofia (Billie Garson), who becomes a brilliant pianist.

Throughout his 30-year stay in the Metropol Alexander will carry on an affair with Anna Urbanova (Mary Elizabeth Winstead), a star of Soviet cinema who enjoys her decadent pastimes and especially the Count’s old-world charm. This is one of the series’ big flaws: I didn’t buy Winstead (in real life she is Mrs. Ewan McGregor) as a jaded European; there’s too much all-American girl about her. Sometimes it feels she’s playing dress-up in Mom’s closet.

Finally there’s Osip (Johnny Harris), Alexander’s bald, brutal KGB overseer. Osip is Red down to his toenails; he hates the nobility and is looking for any excuse to condemn Alexander.  But over the decades theirs becomes the series’ most intriguing relationship.  Initially Osip demands that Alexander spy on the hotel’s guests; eventually the thug finds himself relying on Alexander’s cultured past and obvious “people” skills to navigate the dark twists and turns of a Stalinist society. Weirdly enough, they almost become friends.

The physical production is sumptuous, with the Metropol Hotel presented as a sort of funhouse  wonderland.  We explore this castle from the cellar furnace room to the rooftop (as close as Alexander can get to the great outdoors), luxuriating now and then in the posh dining room and bar, and the luxurious suites…not to mention the back stairways, kitchens and offices.

Finally, there’s one aspect of the series that bugged me. Usually I’m all for non-traditional casting, but the makers of “Gentleman…” have taken it to extremes. Black actors here take roles that for historic accuracy should be portrayed by…well, people who look Russian. The Russian minister of arts is black, an American diplomat (in the 1940s and ‘50s) is black; even Alexander’s boyhood best friend (Fehinti Balogun) is black (and with braided dreadlocks, even). 

These instances took me out of the show and temporarily derailed my attention and enjoyment. 

But then I come back to McGregor’s display of unassuming decency.

Left to right: Alison Brie, Sam Neill, Annette Bening, Conor Kerrigan Turner, Essie Randles, Jake Lacey

“APPLES NEVER FALL” (Peacock):

First-rate players never get the payoff they deserve in “Apples Never Fall,” a murder mystery (sort of) about a hugely dysfunctional family that hints at becoming something dark and revealing before turning all soft and squishy.

The Delaney family of Palm Beach are local legends by virtue of running a tennis academy that has turned out the current world champion.

Mom Joy and dad Stan (Annette Bening, Sam Neill) are currently enjoying an uneasy retirement…he’s a bit of a boor who radiates possible violence, she’s a bored matron.

They’ve got four grown kids — played by Jake Lacy, Alison Brie, Conor Kerrigan Turner and Essie Randles — all of whom seem lost, professionally and/or personally.

Creator Melanie March mixes two genres here.  First there’s the arrival of Savannah (Georgia Flood), an abused woman (or so she claims) who washes up on Joy and Stan’s doorstep, is taken in my them, and slowly makes herself indispensable in ways their actual children won’t. Is Savannah a con artist? Dangerous?

Then there’s Joy’s disappearance, Stan’s stubborn refusal to cooperate with the cops, and lots of bloody evidence suggests she has been the victim of foul play.

“Apples Never Fall” dishes a ton of armchair psychology, a mess of subplots that do little more than pad the proceedings, and a jumbled time frame that makes it hard to figure out exactly where we are in the 7-episode story.

Finally, there’s a payoff that is more “meh” than “damn!”

| Robert W. Butler

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Pooh, Ewan McGregor

“CHRISTOPHER ROBIN” My rating: C- 

104 minutes | MPAA rating: PG

Few moviegoing experiences are as disheartening as the film that aspires to the whimsical and charming but instead falls flat on its boring face.

Welcome to “Christopher Robin,” Disney’s ill-conceived live-action (mostly) fantasy about the adult life of the little boy who used to play with Pooh, Piglet and the other animals in the Hundred Acre Woods.

Unlike last year’s “Goodbye Christopher Robin,” which was a loose biography of Pooh creator A.A. Milne and his son, Christopher Robin Milne, this new effort from director Marc Forster unfolds in an alternative universe in which Milne and the Pooh books don’t exist (although the movie opens with animated versions of the famous book illustrations by E.H. Shepard…so you can be forgiven if you’re confused).

In a prologue little Christopher Robin (his first name is Christopher, his last Robin) says goodbye to his toy companions as he prepares for boarding school.  Pooh and the others — rendered in what appears to be a combination of puppetry and computer effects — are left behind to mourn the loss of their human friend.

In a montage we see the grown Christopher Robin (Ewan McGregor) meet and marry Evelyn (Hayley Atwell), go off to World War II and become a father to young Madeline (Bronte Carmichael).  By now he’s all but forgotten his childhood companions; he’s up to his neck in troubles as a middle manager at a London luggage company on the verge of bankruptcy. Christopher is so consumed by business woes that he’s alienating his wife and child.

And then one day — tah DAH — Pooh uses a magic portal (in a tree) to come to London to look for his old friend. The harried businessman spends a day back in the Hundred Acre Woods, slowly getting back in touch with his childhood self.

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Dan Stevens (beneath the CGI) and Emma Watson

“BEAUTY AND THE BEAST” My rating: B (Opens wide on Nov. 17)

129 minutes | MPAA rating: PG

Is Disney’s live-action version of “Beauty and the Beast” as good as the old-style, hand-drawn 1991 original?

Nope. But it’ll do.

After a slow middle section, the film delivers the emotional goods. And along the way, it establishes Emma Watson, late of the Harry Potter franchise, as a name-above-the-title star.

This remake is the latest in Disney’s recycling of its classic animation library — see last year’s “The Jungle Book” and “Cinderella” the year before. The film, from director Bill Condon (“Dreamgirls,” “Chicago”), hits favorite familiar notes while introducing some new (and mildly controversial) elements.

Its strongest component remains Alan Menken and the late Howard Ashman’s score from the first film, a collection of hummers that immediately please the ear and quickly take up residence in the head. Small wonder a stage version became a Broadway smash. (I found the the three new tunes written for the film by Menken and the late Tim Rice to be forgettable.)

The story is by now familiar to all. Belle (Watson) is too smart to fit into traditional girly categories, setting off suspicions among her provincial fellow villagers in 18th-century France.

When her father (Kevin Kline) is imprisoned in the enchanted castle of the Beast (Dan Stevens) — a vain and cruel prince working off a curse — Belle trades places with the old man. Over time she wins over the Beast’s staff, domestics who have taken the form of household objects and eventually gains the love of her grumpy host.

Meanwhile the villagers are being stirred up by Gaston (Luke Evans), the preening he-man who wants Belle for himself.

Following the nifty production number “Belle,” which introduces us to our heroine and her circumstances, “Beauty and the Beast” slows to a crawl, only to pick up an hour later when the Belle/Beast relationship starts to assert its romantic pull.

The problem is one of size. The cartoon “Beauty,” nominated for a best picture Oscar, ran for 84 minutes. It was taut and wasted nothing. (more…)

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Don Cheadle as Miles Davis

Don Cheadle as Miles Davis

“MILES AHEAD”  My rating: B 

100 minutes | MPAA rating: R

You’ve got to give props to Don Cheadle.

As  the director, producer, co-writer and star of “Miles Ahead,” he shrugs off the trappings of your traditional musician biopic and attempts the cinematic version of  a jazz composition: repeated motifs, variations, codas, wild riffs, crazy improv.

It’s an approach guaranteed to scare off most audiences, but for those willing to stick around there are plenty of rewards.

The life of Miles Davis — as filled with personal upheaval as it was with musical genius — could be approached in a dozen different ways. Screenwriters Cheadle and Steven Baigelman have chosen a tack guaranteed to piss off many Davis fans by concentrating on perhaps the least productive and most demeaning period of the trumpeter’s career.

Set mostly  in late 1970s — almost three decades after his breakthrough as a “cool” jazz man and years since his last recording — the film does offer flashbacks of Miles’ wonder years, as well as his doomed romance with dancer Frances Taylor (Emayatzy Corinealdi), presented here as the lost love of his life.

But in the here and now  Miles is holed up in Howard Hughes-ish isolation in his New York townhouse, where he lounges about in expensive yet ridiculous disco fashions, snorting coke and slugging back expensive liquor. Sometimes he fools around with recorded sounds, but creativity has little room in a life awash with paranoia and self-pity.

As one observer comments, at this point Miles Davis is probably worth more dead than alive.

The plot kicks in with the arrival of David Brill (Ewan McGregor), who claims to be on an assignment from Rolling Stone.  As it turns out, the journalist becomes Miles’ wingman on a series of odd adventures, foremost among them the theft from Miles’ home of a tape recording an unscrupulous music producer thinks could be worth a fortune.

Armed to the teeth and fueled by drugs, Miles and the bewildered/fascinated David go off to seek justice.

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Julianne Nicholson, Meryl Streep, Julia Roberts

Julianne Nicholson, Meryl Streep, Julia Roberts

“AUGUST:  OSAGE COUNTY”  My rating: C+ (Opens wide on Jan. 10)

121 minutes | MPAA rating R

Some stories were meant to be performed on a stage.

For instance, the plays of Sam Shepard, which deliver moments of violence and affrontery you almost never see in live theater. A Shepard character might be required to beat a typewriter to death with a golf club, smash dozens of glass bottles just feet from the folks in the front row, or urinate on his little sister’s science project in full view of the paying customers.

If those things happened in a movie, you’d shrug. No big deal.  In a movie you can do anything.

But seeing those moments play out live, in the flesh, while you brace yourself to dodge flying glass shards or broken typewriter keys…well, that has a way of focusing your mind most wonderfully.

I thought of Shepard’s plays while watching John Wells’ screen version of “August: Osage County,” Tracy Letts’ Pulitzer-winning black comedy about an Oklahoma clan assembled to bury its patriarch (played, ironically enough, by  Sam Shepard).  In the same way that Shepard’s  plays almost never make satisfying movies, “August: Osage County” makes an uncomfortable transition to the screen.

First, don’t buy into the TV ads that make it look like a rollicking comedy.  There are laughs here, yeah, but they’re the sort of laughs you can choke on. Dourness is the order of the day.

In adapting his play Letts has boiled a 3 1/2 hour production down to 2 hours. Stuff’s been left out — character development, carefully calibrated pauses — and while the essence of the play remains, it feels curiously underwhelming.

(more…)

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Ewan McGregor, Melanie Laurant and friend

“BEGINNERS” My rating: B  (Opens July 8 at the Glenwood Arts and Tivoli)

105 minutes | MPAA rating:  R

We inherit more from our parents than DNA. Without realizing exactly how or why, we inherit a way of looking at life.

“Beginners” is about a man looking back on his parents’ marriage and finally coming to terms with the often uncomfortable emotional baggage they bequeathed him.

That may sound like a heavy slog. Happily, much of “Beginners” is a hoot — bizarrely funny, sweet, sexy and quite moving.

If with his second feature the film’s writer/director — modern-day Renaissance man Mike Mills — can’t always keep all those balls perfectly suspended in the air, he comes close enough to make this film a must-see event.

(more…)

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Get your tickets and gird your loins.

GayFest is upon us.

That’s the Gay & Lesbian Film Festival of Kansas City, for the uninitiated, and it gets underway Friday, June 24 at the Tivoli Theatre in Westport.

I’ve been able to pre-screen several of this year’s titles; what follows is one guy’s picks of the best of the fest: (more…)

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