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Posts Tagged ‘Shea Whigham’

Michael Shannon

“DEATH BY LIGHTNING”(Netflix)

Historical drama gets no better than “Death by Lightning,” a recreation of one of the more obscure but weirdly resonant moments in our national history.

Based on Candice Millard’s superb history Destiny of the Republic, this retelling of the assassination of President James A. Garfield in 1881 has been spectacularly well acted and produced.  It almost perfectly captures the same emotional and intellectual notes that made the book so memorable.

And it does it all in just four one-hour episodes.

It begins with Senator Garfield (Michael Shannon) leaving his Ohio farm for the 1880 Republican National Convention in Chicago . His hope is to prevent the renomination of incumbent president Ulysses S. Grant, the figurehead of a spectacularly corrupt administration.

In a twist of fate that seems more fairy tale than fact,  it is Garfield himself who ends up the party’s nominee.  It’s not that he seeks the presidency…but he’s the only candidate the warring anti-Grant delegates all can get behind. 

In the process he makes an enemy of Grant supporter Roscoe Conkling (Shea Whigham), the U.S. senator from New York whose control of that state’s ports holds the American economy in a stranglehold.  Conkling is a savvy pol…he’s also willing to employ pure thuggery to get his way.  The comically boozy Chester Arthur (Nick Offerman) provides the muscle behind Conkling’s manipulations.

Garfield knows he cannot win without New  York.  So he does the unthinkable…he chooses as his running mate the hapless Arthur; basically it’s an end run around Conkling’s plan to sit out the election and pick up the pieces later.

The rise of Garfield runs parallel to the story of Charles Guiteau (Matthew Macfadyen), a failed lawyer and hustler with serious mental issues.  Guiteau fantasizes that his support was vital in getting Garfield elected, and now he wants a reward.  And when his pathetic entreaties are rejected, he plots to kill the President.

Matthew Macfadyen

As was the case with Millard’s book, this series leaves viewers ruminating over what might have been.  In his three months as President, Garfield embraced a progressive agenda.  A Civil War veteran, he reached out to  African American leaders, especially black soldiers whose sacrifices were overlooked.  He laid plans to replace the spoils system with a non-partisan Civil Service.

I doubt we’ll see better acting this year than what’s delivered here by Shannon and Macfadyen.

Shannon probably has the tougher job, given that Garfield was low-keyed, modest and generous.  Not exactly a personality to set off dramatic fireworks. Yet the actor finds the heroic in Garfield’s calm reasonableness. Especially telling are the scenes with the Garfield family (Betty Gilpin is terrific as Mrs. Garfield), which bring to mind the domestic image of Abraham Lincoln and his brood.

The upshot is a genuine sense of loss.

Macfadyen, on the other hand, gets to play a crazy man…but with restraint.  The key to his Guiteau is the disarming “normalcy” of his presentation.  The guys often sounds reasonable but behind the fancy words there’s a crippling desperation at war with rampant narcissism.  In any conversation there comes a moment, a tell if you will, that suggests something is seriously wrong with this guy. Maybe you can’t quite put a finger on it, but that creepy feeling on the back of your neck is inescapable.

The fourth and final episode unfolds in the aftermath of the assassination attempt. Garfield lingered in agony for a month while inept physicians tried to locate the bullet for extraction…even calling upon inventor Alexander Graham Bell to employ a primitive metal detector.

Weirdly enough, the reform movement Garfield put into motion survived him, thanks to an unlikely proponent we won’t name here.

Now this is all pretty heavy stuff, but director Matt Ross and writer/creator Mike Makowsky often put a bleakly funny spin on the material.  The brutal cronyism of Conkling and Arthur gets the full satiric treatment (the parallels between their machinations and those of our current President are inescapable) and the characters often employ ear-burning language.  I doubt that statesmen of the 19th century were that open with their profanity, but in dramatic terms it works…most of the really vile pronouncements come from the show’s heavies.

Even the smallest roles are deftly handled.  Among the supporting players are Bradley Whitford, Vonnie Curtis-Hall, Paula Malcomson and Zeljko Ivanek.

When it’s all over, “Death by Lightning” leaves us marveling at the decency of good men and the unpredictability of fate.

Ethan Hawke

“THE LOWDOWN” (Hulu)

I love, love LOVE this show.

Lee Raybon (Ethan Hawke) is a shabbily-clothed freelance journalist whose search for truth always has him in hot water with Tulsa’s movers and shakers.

In this funny and weirdly moving series from Sterlin Harjo (the man who gave us “Reservation Dogs”)  Lee sets out to prove that the suicide of one of the local gentry is actually murder.

He runs up against the dead man’s brother (Kyle Maclachlan), who’s running for governor; the scheming widow (Jeanne Trijpplehorn), a neo-Nazi cult  and a whole bunch of corrupt power  brokers.

All while trying to keep his struggling used book store afloat and delivering questionable parenting to his teenage daughter (Ryan Kiera Armstrong). 

Plus Lee gets beat up.  A lot.

This sprawling noir comedy (think Jim Thompson on laughing gas) is crammed with eccentric and memorable characters, and the players (among them Keith David, Tracy Letts, Tim Blake Nelson, Killer Mike, Tom McCarthy, Peter Dinklage, John Doe and the late Graham Greene) take full advantage of the possibilities. Rarely have so many scene stealers been assembled in one place.

I was borderline bereft when “The  Lowdown” reached its eighth and final episode.  But I’ll tell you what…I’m gonna plop down and watch it all over again.

| Robert W. Butler

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Bridget Everett, Jeff Hiller

“SOMEBODY SOMEWHERE” (Max):

Fans of humanistic comedy (i.e. “Ted Lasso,” “Shrinking”) should make a beeline for all three seasons of “Somebody Somewhere,” an endearing and rudely hilarious series about life’s losers.

Or are they?

Bridget Everett, famed (and infamous) for her raunchy cabaret act, stars as Samantha, a fortysomething single woman with a voracious appetite for beer and unhealthy food whose bawdy/blowsy persona masks personal hurts and deep longings.

(Is there a better title than “Somebody Somewhere” to describe romantic yearning?)

Samantha gets through life with a little bit of help from her friends…and what a collection of distinct personalities! 

Her sister Tricia (Mary Catherine Garrison) is the most conventional of the lot, dealing with the end of her marriage by opening a gift shop full of homey items embroidered with profane exclamations.

Best bud Joel (Jeff Hiller) is a gay man whose initial weirdness (who the hell cuts his hair?) is quickly eclipsed by his soulful decency.

Then there’s transexual Fred (Murray Hill), a university professor who seems to be an expert in just about everything.

“Somebody Somewhere” takes place in Manhattan KS, and while most of the series is shot in Illinois (aside from a few establishing shots of Kansas landmarks) there are enough references to K-State, K.U. and Kansas City to make Midwesterners feel right at home.

Laughter through tears.  My favorite emotion.

Preston Mota, Taylor Kitsch

“AMERICAN PRIMEVAL” (Netflix):

The Western, once a staple of American entertainment, has been saved from extinction by the rise of streaming services.

The latest to hit the small screen is “American Primeval,” an astonishingly bloody miniseries that stomps on plenty of toes.

The essential plot is far from novel.  A solitary and sulky mountain man (Taylor Kitsch) reluctantly finds himself guiding a woman from the East (Betty Gilpin) and her tweener son (Preston Mota) across the West for a rendezvous with the husband she hasn’t seen in many years.

Turns out the lady is more than she seems.  Back in civilization she’s wanted for  murder, and their journey is complicated by pursuing bounty hunters.

That’s just one aspect of the yarn cooked up by writer/creator Mark L. Smith (“The Revenant”) and director Peter Berg.

 As a background to all this there’s the  1857 Mormon War and the infamous Mountain Meadow Massacre in which an LDS militia — fueled by religious hysteria and political paranoia — disguised themselves as Native Americans to wipe out an entire wagon train whose leaders made the mistake crossing Utah on their way to Oregon.

The militia officers are painted with a painfully heavy brush…basically they are conscienceless psychos.  We also meet LDS prophet Brigham Young, played by Kim Coates, who has traded in his motorcycle from “Sons of Anarchy” for a horse and an eye-rolling display of duplicitous villainy. 

Needless to say, 21st century Mormons will take umbrage.  Historian have long wondered just how much Young had to do with the massacre, but Smith’s script actually shows the Mormon leader ordering the butchery.

There’s yet another plot, this time centering on a Mormon man (Dane DeHann) who loses both his scalp and his wife (Saura Lightfoot-Leon) to marauding Native Americans. He takes off after his missing spouse without bothering to wash his face of the blood that drips from his savaged hairline.

One of my favorites is the famous explorer and trapper Jim Bridger (Shea Whigham), who from his base in Wyoming’s Ft. Bridger interacts with most of the major characters. 

And there’s a U.S. army officer (Lucas Neff) whose diary entries, read as narration, help set the scene.

“American Primeval” has its share of historic incongruities (uh…there are no mountains outside St. Joseph MO). And while it shares with “Lonesome Dove” multiple characters and plot threads, its overall feel is more bleak and cynical than inspirational. Certainly there are no characters to enchant us in the way Gus and Woodrow did on their cattle drive.

Still,  this series has some kiiller scenery and the action is brutal and merciless.  Squeamish viewers will spend a fair bit of time staring down at their laps.

“SQUID GAME – Season 2” (Netflix)

Sometimes you can’t go home again.

So it is with Season 2 of “Squid Game,” the smash Korean series about a secret island where life’s unfortunates  play deadly games in the hope of walking away with a fortune.

Lee Jung-jae reprises his role as Song Gi-hun, who in the first season won the game (meaning he was the sole survivor). Tormented by what he experienced and determined to make the game’s organizers pay, he spends his fortune trying to find that mysterious isle.

Eventually he ends up back in the game, using his knowledge of the place to plan a takeover attempt.

This time around, though, something’s off. The characters are painfully  one-dimensional, less real people than symbols (trans woman, fugitive from North Korea, religious fanatic, etc.). 

In a new twist for this season, one of the players is a plant. Lee Byung-hun portrays one of the game’s organizers who befriends our hero and helps him foment rebellion — though why he does this is never explained.

It all ends with a cliffhanger and a wait of another two years for the third season.  I don’t think I’m up for it.

| Robert W. Butler

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(Left to right): John Pollono, Jordana Spiro, Jon Bernthal, Shea Whigham, Josh Helman

“SMALL ENGINE REPAIR” My rating: C+ (In theaters)

103 minutes || MPAA rating: R

John Pollono’s “Small Engine Repair” isn’t so much a movie as it is several movies, often working at cross purposes.

The upshot is a bad case of emotional/tonal whiplash as what initially looks like a study of blue-collar male bonding — with a healthy dash of toxic masculinity — veers into over-the-top melodrama.

Initially this indie effort presents itself as a workin-class riff on “Three Men and a Baby.”  In the first scene Frankie (writer/director Pollono) comes out of prison to be greeted by his boyhood chums Swaino (Jon Bernthal) and Patrick (Shea Whigham), who have been taking care of Frankie’s infant daughter while he was in stir.

How these two beer-swigging man-boys were allowed to care for a baby is something of a mystery, but we’re led to believe that they did a pretty good job in Frankie’s absence.

Cut to many years later.  That baby has grown up to be the teenage Crystal ( Ciara Bravo), who still lives with her dad Frankie, although she also spends much time with her loving “uncles.” 

Though Frankie has long been on the wagon, he’s still got a temper, especially when Crystal’s druggie mom Karen (Jordana Spiro) makes a rare appearance to stir up old animosities.  With his patience frayed by domestic issues, Frankie needs little provocation to get into barroom brawls; he’s invariably joined in the mayhem by Swaino and Patrick, who in middle age remain single and, emotionally anyway, adolescent.

These early passages seem to be going for a slice-of-life naturalism. Despite the violent blips, we find ourselves taking comfort in the three men’s lifelong friendship.

It doesn’t last.

In the second half of the film is like another movie altogether. Frankie entertains a smugly privileged college kid, Anthony  (Josh Helman), who sidelines as a drug dealer.  Over the course of a drunken evening in Frankie’s small engine repair shop Anthony finds himself duct taped to a chair; apparently he dated Frankie’s beloved Crystal and ruined the girl’s life by posting intimate photos of her online.

Frankie now expects old pals Swaino and Patrick and to help out with his revenge, though they’re not so sure they’re ready to commit homicide.  Things are further complicated when Crystal’s mom Karen shows up and begins goading the menfolk into action.

“Small Engine Repair” is a very weird, scattered film. It originated as a four-man, one-set  play written by  Pollono. On stage the characters of Crystal and her mom Karen are discussed, but never seen.  

Watching the film I found myself reverse engineering it.  The whole first half of the movie apparently was created in an effort open the yarn up cinematically.  The play proper eats up the claustrophobic Act II.

But the old material and the new really don’t mesh.  Which is where this expanded narrative’s dramatic schizophrenia rears its ugly head. 

The good news is that individual scenes in “Small Engine Repair” work really well.  And the performances are terrific. I was particularly taken with Whigham’s Patrick, a social moron whose tech expertise — he’s something of a computer geek — becomes essential to the plot.

| Robert W. Butler

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Ryan Gosling as Neil Armstrong

“FIRST MAN” My rating: B 

141 minutes | MPAA rating: PG-13

With “First Man” wonderkid director Damien Chazelle has segued from the high artifice of a musical (“La La Land”) to a soaked-in-realism docudrama.

“First Man” is the story of Neil Armstrong, who in 1969 became the first human to walk on the surface of the moon.

The creation of NASA, setbacks in the U.S. space program and the eventual triumph of a moon landing  already have inspired the HBO miniseries “From the Earth to the Moon” and films like “The Right Stuff” and “Apollo 13.”

The emphasis from Chazelle and screenwriter Josh Singer is on momentous events as experienced by one man…and not a terribly demonstrative man at that.

The Neil Armstrong of this retelling is a jet jockey whom we first meet in a near-disastrous sub-orbital test flight of the experimental X-15 plane. Like a lot of guys who risk death as part of their daily routine, he keeps his feelings — both fear and love — pretty much to himself. Whatever  ego he possesses stays hidden…getting the job done is his primary goal.

So it’s a good thing, then, that Armstrong is played by “La La…” star Ryan Gosling, who has the skill and talent to project the inner turmoil of a man who doesn’t give away much.

The screenplay cannily focuses on Armstrong’s most traumatic experience.  It has nothing to do with  ejecting from a crashing plane and being dragged across the landscape by his wind-propelled parachute.

No, it’s the cancer death of  his young daughter, a beautiful child who, thanks to the Chazelle/Singer screenplay, appears periodically to Armstrong’s inner eye, a reminder that no matter his stoic appearance, there’s fierce emotion bubbling beneath.

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Paul Rudd as Moe Berg

“THE CATCHER WAS A SPY” My rating: C+

98 minutes | MPAA rating: R

Crammed with famous faces and centering on a bit of real-life WW2 cloak-and-dagger that almost defies credulity, “The Catcher Was a Spy” is both a thriller and a flawed character study of a man who refused to be characterized.

Indeed, even before he was recruited by the O.S.S. and trained to be an assassin, Morris “Moe” Berg (portrayed here by Paul Rudd…probably too boyish for the role) was a bundle of puzzling contradictions.

Berg had degrees from Columbia, Princeton and the Sorbonne; he spoke seven or eight languages fluently and could get by in several others.

Yet he made his living as a professional baseball player, serving as the second string catcher for the Boston Red Sox.

As presented in Ben Lewin’s film, he is well spoken, erudite and bisexual, augmenting his domestic life with a live-in girlfriend (Sienna Miller) with visits to underground gay nightspots.

Shortly before the beginning of the war Berg was named to an all star team (Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig participated) on a good will tour of Japan.  While there he became convinced that war was inevitable and, on his own, climbed to the roof of a Tokyo skyscraper so that he could film military installations and harbor facilities.

He later presented his reels to William “Wild Bill” Donovan (Jeff Daniels), then running the O.S.S., the precursor to the C.I.A. Donovan was sufficiently impressed by Berg’s intellect, patriotism and facility with foreign languages to give him a job…but not before asking: “Are you queer?”

Berg’s answer sealed the deal: “I’m good at keeping secrets.”

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wolf 2“THE WOLF OF WALL STREET” My rating: C+ (Opens wide on Dec. 25)

179 minutes | MPAA rating: R

Is “The Wolf of Wall Street” the result of some sort of show-biz wager?

It’s as if Martin Scorsese (arguably America’s greatest living filmmaker) and Leonardo DiCaprio (Scorsese’s latter-day DeNiro) accepted a challenge to make a three-hour movie that would entice us to laugh along with despicable characters – just because they thought they had the special juice to pull it off.

And there are moments when they come close.

“Wolf” is based on the memoir by Jordan Belfort, a poster boy for ‘90s stock market shenanigans, who made millions selling his customers worthless securities and ended up going to prison for his misdeeds.

Now I’m the sort of fellow who tries to find the essential humanity in just about everyone, but Belfort is the financial equivalent of Adolf Hitler and Pol Pot. He’s arrogant and greedy and virtually without conscience – capitalism at its most corrupt.

And DiCaprio and Scorsese have to sweat like stevedores to make him a palatable companion for 180 minutes.

This is a speedball of a movie that maniacally tears along from one scene of misbehavior to the next, hardly ever slowing down to contemplate just what message we’re to take away. Presumably Scorsese disapproves of Belfort and what he represents … but the film feels just the opposite. It seems a monumental  celebration of greed and excess.

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