Review: "A Ghost Story"

Where is Oda Mae Brown when you need her?!

A Ghost Story, the latest picture from filmmaker David Lowery (Ain't Them Bodies Saints, Pete's Dragon) is a film both sensitive and standoffish. While the sadness in Casey Affleck's performance, even as he's covered from head to toe in a white sheet, is palpable, the proceedings are meandering and ultimately left me cold and restless.

The film opens on C (Affleck), a recently deceased musician who, donning the white sheet, wanders out of the hospital to return home and console his mourning wife M (Rooney Mara). C observes as M goes through the grieving process and, after she moves out, finds himself watching over the house's future inhabitants, including a single mom and her children and a group of partygoers. All along, C is working, to negligible success, to retrieve a hand-written note M tucked inside the crack of a wall before her departure.

A Ghost Story looks and sounds phenomenal, with sumptuous cinematography by Andrew Droz Palermo and a stirring score from Daniel Hart. Their contributions and Affleck's curiously moving turn aside, however, the proceedings are overwhelmingly lethargic and lacking the profound, spiritual feeling no doubt intended. The picture also boasts one of the most ham-fisted monologues on humanity to ever grace the screen.

Not without its merits, A Ghost Story is a noble failure.

C+

Review: "The Big Sick"

At last, a Judd Apatow production that doesn't leave me restless!

Comic geniuses/writers Kumail Nanjiani and Emily V. Gordon have joined Michael Showalter, the filmmaker behind last year's splendid Hello, My Name Is Doris, to deliver one of the finest romantic dramedies in recent years. The Big Sick plays like Don't Think Twice (the best comedy of 2016) meets Love Story (one of the most maudlin films of all-time)...and thankfully falls a lot closer to the former than the latter in quality.

Based on his real-life courtship with Gordon, Nanjiani portrays a Pakistan-born comic who meets and falls for Emily (Zoe Kazan) at one of his shows. Their relationship flourishes for some time, that is before his refusal to acknowledge the relationship to his traditional Muslim parents leaves Emily skeptical of her place in Kumail's future. She ends the relationship just before tragedy strikes - Emily falls ill, is hospitalized and soon placed into a medically induced coma.

Despite their split, Kumail is determined to remain by her side...and then Emily's parents (Holly Hunter and Ray Romano) show up. While her folks initially give Kumail a rather chilly reception, their mutual affection for and distress over Emily slowly but surely bring them together.

The Big Sick pulls off a remarkable balancing act, drawing big, well-earned laughs and tugging at the heartstrings in a way that isn't nauseatingly manipulative. The cast is all-around marvelous - Nanjiani and Kazan make for an enchanting and convincing team; this is perhaps Hunter's best performance since Living Out Loud in 1998 (keep an eye on this four-time nominee during Oscar season); and Romano has never, ever been this good. Also, all of the actors portraying Nanjiani's family are dead-on perfection.

Even if this proves one hell of a year at the cinema, The Big Sick will undoubtedly go down as one of the finest of 2017.

A

Review: "Baby Driver"

Ah, movie soundtracks. Wall-to-wall tunes can make great cinema all the more powerful (think American Graffiti, Goodfellas and Stand By Me) and, on occasion, give a considerable lift to otherwise ho-hum pictures (like Waiting to Exhale and yes, Saturday Night Fever).

In recent years, however, I've grown a tad wary of films leaning so heavily on their music. American Hustle and Guardians of the Galaxy, for instance, sport fabulous soundtracks but are otherwise middling and uninspired pictures. Still, people ate these two movies up, in large part because of the countless classic tunes trotted out in both films. The use of a fantastic song can do wonders with a scene...even if there's really nothing else of note to speak of on the screen.

Like those two pictures, Edgar Wright's Baby Driver sports one hell of a soundtrack, stuffed with '70s tracks and a scattering of tunes from other decades too. Unlike those films, however, Wright's picture also has some meat on its bones beyond just the music.

Ansel Elgort is Baby, the masterful getaway driver who, with earbuds and a limitless iTunes collection in tow, is a true beast behind the wheel. Baby begrudgingly works for heist mastermind Doc (Kevin Spacey) to both pay off a debt he owes to the kingpin and support his deaf foster father (C.J. Jones). Among the colorful characters Baby is stuck chauffeuring around are the hotheaded Buddy (Jon Hamm), vicious Bats (Jamie Foxx) and conniving Darling (Elza Gonzalez).

One day, Baby comes across the woman of his dreams, diner waitress Deborah (Lily James). That head-over-heels feeling is mutual but just when it appears Baby's business with Doc is over and the young couple can drive off into the sunset together, Doc forces Baby into another, even more perilous heist job. With Baby itching to run away with his new love and tensions high among the increasingly unhinged team, odds are heads will roll this time around.

More than anything, Baby Driver is a master class in film editing and sound. The car chase sequences here nearly rival the legendary likes of Bullitt and The French Connection. Per usual with Wright's films, there is no shortage of buoyant energy beaming off the screen and the director/writer also does a lovely job with the romance between Baby and Deborah. Their scenes together have a genuine, warm charm that serve as a refreshing break from an otherwise punchy and savage picture.

Elgort isn't necessarily the most compelling of actors but still makes for a plenty convincing and engaging Baby. Even better is James, enchanting as the innocent dragged along for the dizzying ride. Spacey, Hamm and Foxx are just OK as the heist-hungry crooks - all three, obviously, have been in much more challenging form before but also don't bring a whole lot of juice to their roles. It's some of the smaller turns, like the endearing and funny Jones and Andrea Frye, as an old lady both carjacked and charmed by Baby, that often steal the show.

Baby Driver isn't spectacular from head to toe - the non-action scenes involving the criminals aren't all that absorbing and the combo of violence and comedy isn't as at-ease as in Wright's Hot Fuzz - but still, it's a fun and vibrant summer romp for the most part, with some dynamite set pieces. Also, how could I not enjoy a film that intertwines both It's Complicated and The Little Rascals in the same scene?

B+

Review: "It Comes at Night"

Joel Edgerton is for sure among my favorite actors working today. Ever since Animal Kingdom, I have time and time again been floored by his ability to disappear into roles. His work there and in the likes of Warrior, The Gift and Loving, among other pictures, exemplify his immense talents on the screen. Moreover, Edgerton has proven himself more than capable of making a lot out of a little, case in point his terrific turn in 2015's otherwise limp Black Mass.

Edgerton's latest film, thankfully, is much more in line with his finest projects, as opposed to Black Mass and The Great Gatsby.

It Comes at Night, directed by the fabulous young filmmaker Trey Edward Shults, is a masterfully unsettling psychological horror flick. It's that breed of cinema, woefully rare these days in the genre, that's determined to get under your skin without resorting to much in the way of guts and gore.

The film opens on a family - Paul (Edgerton) and Sarah (Carmen Ejogo) and their teenage son Travis (Kelvin Harrison, Jr.) - who have secured themselves inside a desolate country home as a mysterious disease ravages the world around them. Paul has established a strict routine and order that has thus far kept them safe and sound. That is, until the arrival of Will (Christopher Abbott), another desperate family man, searching for water to provide for his kin.

After much reluctance, Paul agrees to trade some of the family's water in exchange for food Will has amassed. Furthermore, once more of a rapport is struck, Paul and Sarah allow for Will's wife (Riley Keogh) and son (Griffin Robert Faulkner) to move into their home. That's when problems begin to arise. Travis' dog Stanley goes missing in the woods after a berserk response to something in the distance. Travis is also plagued by horrific nightmares involving the new inhabitants and his grandfather, who succumbed to the disease.

Matters really get tense, however, when one evening, Travis discovers the front door of the house, which is always locked up to the tee, has been left open. Outside the door is a suffering, infected Stanley. The question of who opened the door sparks a contentious conversation among the residents, one which could threaten to tear the house apart.

An aura of intense claustrophobia and uncertainty lingers throughout It Comes at Night. The film is brilliantly, convincingly acted by all involved but the real star of the show has to be Shults, working wonders with the camera in a way that rings of John Carpenter and Stanley Kubrick. The film is beautifully lit too - kudos to Drew Daniels on his stunning cinematography. Shults' screenplay is also something to marvel at, guaranteed to spark discussion over the meaning of the proceedings and just what the hell may have happened with that damn door.

I look so forward to the next projects from both Shults and Edgerton.

A-

Review: "Wonder Woman"

Growing up, I was all about the DC comics. The Marvel stuff rarely floated my boat (as has proven the case with most of its recent films) but DC almost always managed to satisfy, as did the early motion pictures - I wouldn't hesitate at all to shower the first two Superman films and first two Batman flicks in Oscar nominations (I think we can all agree Michelle Pfeiffer deserved to win a trophy for Batman Returns). There's genuine movie magic to be found in those pictures.

So, given my adoration for all things DC, it's been more than a little exasperating watching more misses than hits come out of the franchise on the silver screen in recent years. Sure, Zach Snyder, with his bombastic vision for DC on film, deserves much of the blame, but even prior to Snyder's involvement, we were treated to the comparably insufferable likes of Catwoman and Green Lantern. 

From the project's announcement, I admittedly figured, despite having a fine filmmaker attached, Wonder Woman would be destined to disappoint.

Thankfully, Wonder Woman does not mark yet another cinematic catastrophe of the DC universe. While it doesn't quite operate on the sky-high level of the best DC pictures either, it is a fun romp that is destined to instill hope in the hearts of those DC devotees who haven't been so keen on the comics' recent offerings on the big screen.

The picture opens on the island of Themyscira where Diana (Gal Gadot), princess of the Amazons, has trained to be an unstoppable warrior. Her blissful existence, surrounded exclusively by fellow female warriors, is interrupted by the entrance of pilot Steve Trevor (Chris Pine), a World War I-era Allied spy whose plane crashes off the coast. After rescuing him and learning of the war that is ravaging the planet, Diana is determined to use her powers to restore world peace. She decides she will leave home for the very first time and join in Steve's efforts.

Wonder Woman sports a number of exceptional set pieces, perhaps the most riveting being Diana's valiant push across enemy trenches upon arrival at the Western Front in Belgium. There are fabulous comic bits too, fueled by the enchanting pairing of Gadot and Pine, neither of who are spectacularly talented actors but still pitch-perfect in their respective roles. Pine in particular has a matinee idol charisma that is apt for this sort of old-school comic book adaptation.

The supporting players are memorable too - Robin Wright is unconditionally badass as Diana's aunt and trainer and Danny Huston and Elena Anaya make for amusing villains, even if the characters don't feel fully fleshed out. Also, the film looks fantastic, with a handsome production design by Aline Bonetto (of Amelie and A Very Long Engagement).

Of course, I'd be remiss to not mention the film's director, the marvelous Patty Jenkins, who did an exceptional job directing Charlize Theron to an Oscar with 2003's Monster and then somehow, inexplicably could not land another feature film gig until now. There is no shortage of skill on display here - Jenkins is a star behind the camera and I'm delighted she'll be back for the sequel.

All of that said - the proceedings are smooth sailing for the first two hours, that is until a haphazardly staged final act that recalls all of the missteps of the recent DC pictures. All of the excitement, romance and laughter that enamored us is suddenly, tragically thrown out the window for 20+ minutes of uninspired, CGI-stuffed dueling that feels like the grand finale of another, supremely inferior film.

Still, its lame conclusion aside, Wonder Woman is for sure one of the better recent comic book film adaptations, a lively and lighthearted ride that, unlike all too many pictures in the genre, doesn't take itself so damn seriously.

B