Tom Brady, Bill Bilachick
“DYNASTY: THE NEW ENGLAND PATRIOTS” (Apple+):
Even as a fair-weather sports fan I was aware of the NFL’s New England Patriots in the Belichick/Brady era…at least enough to hate them whenever they squared off agains my Chiefs.
But the new 10-part documentary miniseries from Ron Howard’s production company is just about the perfect way to experience 20 years of superlative football.
Not that the series whitewashes the Pats’ history. Spygate and Inflationgate are both prominently featured (those were, of course, scandals in which the team was accused of cheating). An entire episode is devoted to Aaron Hernandez, the tight end who could not outrun his unsavory past, was convicted of murder and died in prison.
There’s the looming presence of coach Bill Belichick, whose genius as a football strategist was nearly overpowered by his surly personality. Even team owner Robert Kraft (the rare multimillionaire who seems to be a be a genuinely good guy) is forced to admit that “my coach is a pain in the tush.”
And then there’s Tom Brady, who was picked up so late in the draft that just about everybody else already had gone home, and nevertheless became the greatest quarterback of all time. Much of his success was the result of unrelenting hard work and discipline…he’s got an ego, sure, but by series’ end I felt stirrings of affection for the guy.
For a Chiefs fan “Dynasty” is a doubly fascinating experience, since it dovetails uncannily with the emerging Patrick Mahomes/Andy Reid storyline. In both cases it’s a perfect pairing of coach with player; the difference, as far as I can tell, is the elements of toxic masculinity/competitiveness that eventually pushed Belichick and Brady apart are largely missing from Arrowhead’s environment.
Or so one hopes. We shall see.
Ken Watanabe, Anson Elgort
“TOKYO VICE” (Prime):
Gangster yarns are always tasty. Stories about the Yakuza, Japan’s infamous underworld, are even better, with a patina of samurai ethos plastered over the mayhem.
“Tokyo Vice,” based on the memoir by American journalist Jake Adelstein, has the added oomph of plopping us down in a foreign culture and exploring it (or at least certain aspects of it) in almost microscopic detail.
Anson Elgort (Tony in Spielberg’s “West Side Story”) stars as Adelstein, a recent college grad from Missouri who in the 1990s became the first foreign reporter on a major Japanese newspaper.
Accustomed to American-style journalism, Adelstein often finds himself stymied by the regimented way of doing things in Japan, especially the ingrained awe of authority.
(Example: Adelstein visits a crime scene and views a mutilated body, but when he reports about the ”murder” he is chastised by his editors; in Japan they must wait for the police to officially declare a murder has occurred before the word can even be printed.)
“Tokyo Vice” is crammed with interesting characters. The ever-great Ken Watanabe plays a crime-weary detective who becomes the reporter’s secret ally on the police beat. Rachel Keller plays a rebellious American farm girl (from Utah, no less) whose dream of running her own Tokyo nightclub are compromised by the crooks who provide funding. Rinko Kikuchi (the tortured teen in “Babel”) is Adelstein’s immediate handler on the newspaper, an unusual gig for a woman and one that requires her to always defer to the men in the room.
And then there are the heavies, the Yakuza warlords and their henchmen. I’m not familiar with any of these actors, but they have been cast with a keen eye for their striking physical characteristics and ability to exude intimidation.
Kaya Scodelario, Theo James
“THE GENTLEMEN” (Netflix):
There is a good Guy Ritchie, the jokester/genius who gave us funky Brit crime capers like “Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels” and “Snatch.”
And there is a bad Guy Ritchie, as evidenced by his intolerable short-attention-span takes on Sherlock Holmes.
“The Gentleman” is good Guy Ritchie…in spades. He created the series (it’s inspired by his 2018 film of the same name, but with some major changes) and wrote and directed several episodes.
Theo James stars as Eddie Horniman (really? Horny Man?), who returns from service in His Majesty’s army to find his Pater dead; what’s more, the old man’s will jumps over the doped-up older son Freddy (Daniel Inge) to make Eddie a Duke and sole inheritor of the estate.
Eddie quickly discovers that the only thing keeping the manor afloat is an underground (literally) marijuana factory. Seems the previous Duke was in cahoots with an imprisoned drug kingpin (Ray Winstone) and his coolly beautiful daughter (Kaya Scodelario), providing a safe space to grow and process the weed.
Being a good guy, Eddie starts laying plans to extricate the family from this criminal enterprise.
Yeah. Good luck with that.
What makes ironically-title “The Gentlemen” fascinating is the slow corruption of our leading man.
That and a small army of great performers delivering arrestingly eccentric characters.
Joely Richardson plays Eddie’s mother, who at first seems a font of entitled obliviousness but eventually is revealed to be much more on the ball. Vinnie Jones is the family’s uber-loyal gamekeeper. Giancarlo Esposito is as an American billionaire determined to buy the estate. Pearce Quigley is scarily memorable as a Bible-quoting gangster whose beard and brutality are strictly OId Testament.
“The Gentlemen” effortlessly juggles hilarity and grotesque gruesomeness. It may not be “important,” but it sure is fun.
| Robert W. Butler
Butler's Cinema Scene 