Review: "It"

More often than not, I enter movie remakes with an awfully wary eye. That is, unless the picture's predecessor was plagued with heaps of unfulfilled potential.

Stephen King's It was an especially prime candidate for a remake treatment.

After all, King's novel is a pretty fantastic one, I would argue not quite among his best but still a powerful and unsettling blend of horror and bildungsroman. The first attempt to bring It to the screen, ABC's 1990 miniseries, was a ratings sensation on the tube, even scoring an Emmy (for its music). In hindsight, though, Tim Curry's chilling and iconic portrayal of Pennywise the Clown aside, the Tommy Lee Wallace-directed production isn't such hot stuff - in fact, it largely moves like molasses, isn't terribly well-acted and all but completely skids off the tracks in the laughable second half.

Given the shortcomings of the miniseries and my affection for the novel, I was very much eager for this new feature film. Ultimately, I'm afraid, this new take on the King tale is really only a small step up from the 1990 adaptation.

Where the Derry, Maine-set novel begins in the late 1950s, this It, directed by Andres Muschietti, opens toward the end of the 1980s, as little Georgie Denbrough (Jackson Robert Scott) faces a gruesome demise at the hands (well, more like mouth) of Pennywise (Bill Skarsgard).

Nearly a year after the unexplained disappearance, his brother Bill (Jaeden Lieberher), determined as ever to figure out what the hell happened to Georgie, teams with his fellow social outcast pals to get to the bottom of the many children who've mysteriously gone missing from the town over the years. This means going mano a mano with the shape-shifting evil that that so often takes the form of that pesky, bloodthirsty clown.

As a sheer coming-of-age story, It is often a real delight.

This troupe of young actors - particularly Lieberher, Sophia Lillis (as Bev, the one female member of the so-called "Losers' Club") and Jeremy Ray Taylor (as Ben, the new kid in town who uncovers much of Derry's spine-chilling history at the library) - are terrific and have dynamite chemistry, even though a couple of the characters here (Stan and Mike in particular) definitely get the short end of the stick and feel underwritten. The picture's best and most compelling scenes are those squarely focused on the kids, without that damn clown gracing the screen.

That's the thing - while there's much to like in this It, I don't think it much succeeds as a horror movie. Where Curry's Pennywise was a genuinely petrifying and inspired creation, Skarsgard's plays more like a cartoon, a Tasmanian devil-like CGI monster that bounces his way around the screen and is really more grating than frightening. While it's a tainted film, Muschietti could have benefited from checking out Victor Salva's 1989 horror picture Clownhouse, which does portray clowns in a piss-your-pants-scary, more nuanced fashion.

In its horror scenes, the picture so often rings like an imitation of some of the A Nightmare on Elm Street sequels, visually grandiose but also bombastic and unpleasant and definitely not very scary. Not helping is Benjamin Wallfisch's loud and intrusive score.

It managed to fall short of even my modest expectations. Still, for the kids alone, the film is worth a look...once it hits streaming and you can fast forward through the horror gunk.

B-

Review: "Ingrid Goes West"

Aubrey Plaza, you rock.

Plaza, due for a satisfying film vehicle after slumming it in a pair of Zac Efron "comedies" and a handful of other middling projects, is dead-on brilliant in her latest picture, Ingrid Goes West. It's a funny, sad, scary, all-around amazing performance that deserves to (but sadly probably won't) be talked up for Oscar consideration.

The Matt Spicer-directed film, which won warm notices at Sundance earlier this year, follows Ingrid Thorburn, a young woman who lives vicariously through social media superstars. Fresh out of rehab after pepper spraying an Instagram idol who neglected to invite Ingrid to her wedding and reeling from the recent death of her mom, Ingrid bolts her humdrum existence for Venice Beach, where the latest apple of her eye -  the glamorous, seemingly perfect Taylor Sloane (Elizabeth Olsen) resides.

In Cali, Ingrid manages to convincingly weasel her way into Taylor's fabulous life and inner circle. She also bonds with her Batman-obsessed (as in, the Joel Schumacher entries) landlord Dan (O'Shea Jackson Jr.), who doesn't hesitate to play boyfriend to Ingrid at Taylor's swanky house parties.

Ingrid Goes West is deliriously fun, fresh and topical over its first hour, slipping only a bit late in the game with a plot turn involving Taylor's insufferable brother Nicky (Billy Magnussen) that rings as uninspired vis a vis the prior proceedings. That said, even if the final half hour loses some of the liveliness and novelty, Plaza's still in there giving 100 percent, able to run a gamut of emotions without once striking a false note.

Also terrific are Olsen, pitch-perfect as the artificially bubbly Taylor, and Jackson, warm and witty as the picture's most emotionally grounded figure. One of the best parts of Ingrid Goes West is that relationship that blossoms between Ingrid and Dan, a bond that builds without the need for any of that pesky social media.

This is in ingenious comedy that sports one of the year's finest leading turns.

A-

Review: "Detroit"

During the summer of 1967, amidst no shortage of unrest between the city of Detroit's overwhelmingly black populace and overwhelmingly white law enforcement, a police raid of an unlicensed bar, and the chaos that quickly erupted among authorities, patrons and passersby, gave way to a five-day riot, one of the deadliest and most destructive in the nation's history.

Buildings across the city were looted or lit up in flames or both and police had no hesitation in pulling a trigger, even against those simply stealing groceries. By the end of the mayhem, 43 were dead with more than 1,000 injured.

Kathryn Bigelow's aggravating Detroit shines a spotlight on one particularly savage event that transpired over the pandemonium.

On the evening of July 25, in the annex at the city's Algiers Motel, teenager Carl (Jason Mitchell) takes out a starter gun to demonstrate to his friends how a police encounter really goes down in Detroit. He goes so far as to take a few shots out the window at National Guard forces, who are stationed about half a mile a way.

This quickly draws the attention of police, among them the sadistic Krauss (Will Poulter) who, with a pair of his fellow racist cop buddies, barnstorms the house, lines all inhabitants up against the wall and proceeds to subject his prey to what amounts of physical and psychological torture. There's the headstrong black security guard Melvin (John Boyega) who thankfully comes upon the motel but he too must tread very carefully in what has become Krauss' House of Horrors.

Detroit isn't without its merits. The performances, with the exception of a dreadful and distracting late cameo by John Krasinski (this year's Matthew Broderick in Manchester by the Sea), are all-around phenomenal. I was especially taken with Boyega, who has a powerful screen presence even when he says nothing at all - there's a sense of suppressed indignation there than is plenty palpable throughout the proceedings. And Poulter, with his devilish, Nurse Ratched-like eyebrows, is one scary piece of shit. Kudos too to Barry Ackroyd's fine cinematography.

That said, I had a lot of problems with this picture.

I sensed trouble on the horizon from the get-go with the film's curiously animated opening sequence, which spells out to the audience - like we were born yesterday - what brought about racial tensions in Detroit. Then, there's the uninvolving and unfocused opening half hour, which introduces far too many characters too quickly and uneasily tries to intertwine real-life stock footage of the events into the proceedings.

The middle of the picture, in which Krauss turns the Algiers into the motel from hell, has that same harrowing intensity of past Bigelow pictures. As isn't the case in her best films (like Zero Dark Thirty and Blue Steel), however, that feeling of exasperation here goes on so long that it ultimately turns into restlessness. The potency of the performances keep the proceedings gripping at some level but there comes a point where the violence and Poulter's histrionics veer on the excessive.

Then, there's the final half hour of the picture, which feels even more half-baked than the opening 30 and doesn't much resemble Bigelow's vivid style of filmmaking at all. Instead, I was reminded of Rob Reiner's workmanlike '60s civil rights yarn Ghosts of Mississippi, which too sports a few fabulous performances but gets awfully sleepy when it turns into a courtroom drama. 

Was Bigelow, in the end, the best director for this project? I typically adore her but I'm unconvinced. She is a great filmmaker of actors and has captured one of the year's finest ensembles here. The picture, however, is not as confident or satisfying as nearly all of Bigelow's past films and the ferocity with which she directs often feels intemperate here.

Detroit is a bumpy endeavor to say the least.

B-

Review: "Girls Trip"

You'll never look at a grapefruit the same way again...

Girls Trip, the first truly gut-busting comedy of 2017, is a fabulous showcase for its four dynamite leading ladies. Comparisons will no doubt be made between this and fellow ensemble hit Bridesmaids but the latter, enjoyable as it may be, seems merely sitcom-level vis a vis this picture. This is a raunchier, bolder and all-around more satisfying romp.

The film follows the "Flossy Posse" of college besties - Ryan (Regina Hall), Sasha (Queen Latifah), Lisa (Jada Pinkett Smith) and Dina (Tiffany Haddish) - as they reunite in New Orleans for the annual Essence Festival, where Ryan, a best-selling author, has been tapped to deliver a keynote address. Hilarious hijinks of course ensue as the foursome drink, dance, romance and get their wild sides back in action but the proceedings hit a number of serious notes too.

Ryan's friends see right through her phony marriage to retired football star Stewart (Mike Colter), who has been caught yet again hooking up with another woman (who, of course, happens to also be in New Orleans for the event, setting up an inevitable brawl). There's also plenty of tension bubbling beneath the surface between Ryan and Sasha, years ago on track for a joint business venture that fell through when Ryan went out on her own. Now, Sasha runs a trashy celebrity gossip blog that barely pays the bills.

Director Malcolm D. Lee and screenwriters Kenya Barris and Tracy Oliver pull off a commendable balancing act in delivering the raucous laughs while also hitting home on a more dramatic level.

All four stars are in prime form. Haddish all but owns the first half of the film with a side-splittingly funny performance that threatens to upstage the rest of the picture. But then it's Hall who really shines in the second half, as the proceedings take that more serious turn and Lee, Barris and Oliver tackle the topic of infidelity with great wisdom and nuance. Smith is terrific too as the divorced single mom most struggling to at last let loose. And we of course cannot forget Latifah, who, with some absinthe and a lamp, lands one of the film's funniest and most memorable moments.

Girls Trip isn't absolute perfection - there are a handful of gags and scenes that don't quite land - but still, as a vehicle that gives its four super-talented stars a rich opportunity to shine and make us laugh our asses off for two hours, it's well worth a look.

B+

Review: "Dunkirk"

For more than a week over the summer of 1940, toward the beginning of World War II, German forces trapped Allied troops - a mix of British, French, Belgian and Dutch - on the beaches of Dunkirk, France. Through naval and civilian vessels, more than 330,000 troops were safely evacuated.

Christopher Nolan's much-anticipated Dunkirk - his first picture since the polarizing Interstellar in 2014 - captures this event in spellbinding fashion. His film is a master class in cinematography, sound and film editing and, while not quite on the level of masterpieces like The Bridge on the River Kwai and Das Boot, is still among the finest World War II pictures to grace the screen.

The proceedings are captured from three perspectives, one on land, one at sea and one up in the air.

On land, you have Tommy (Fionn Whitehead), a young British private who escapes enemy fire on the streets of Dunkirk and flees to the beach, determined to climb aboard a boat and at last get home. Boat after boat is attacked, including an abandoned ship utilized by the enemies for target practice.

At sea, there is Mr. Dawson (Mark Rylance, far more compelling here than in his Oscar-winning Bridge of Spies turn), a kind and calm sailor on a mission with his son and a friend to assist in the evacuation. The trio encounter a battered solider (Cillian Murphy), the sole survivor of a U-Boat attack. Upon realizing the boat is en route to Dunkirk and not home, the soldier grows hostile, to tragic consequences.

Up in the air are a trio of pilots (among them Tom Hardy and Jack Lowden) determined to take down German planes and prevent the bombing of allied boats at Dunkirk.

Nolan does a superb job intertwining the three - though the proceedings are very much nonlinear, it's a far more accessible picture than the likes of Memento, Inception and Interstellar, which no doubt left some moviegoers feeling lost at sea.

While the acting is all-around terrific, particularly from Whitehead and Rylance, the lack of character development makes Dunkirk a marginally less emotionally involving film than some past war pictures. Still, that's a slight knock when the movie is so magnificent from a technical perspective. Kudos to Hoyte van Hoytema for his glorious photography, Lee Smith for tight, pitch-perfect film editing and the legendary Hans Zimmer for one of his most intoxicating scores to date.

Is Dunkirk the best Nolan picture? Truth be told, I do prefer both The Dark Knight and Insomnia. That said, it's still one hell of an achievement, a stirring, sweeping picture full of sequences guaranteed to go down as some of the year's best.

A-