Review: "Unsane"

Ah, pictures set in mental institutions - more often than not, they get under my skin, the likes of Anatole Litvak's The Snake Pit, Samuel Fuller's Shock Corridor and Hall Bartlett's The Caretakers standing among the best of this fare. There's just something about the claustrophobia of these settings and the helplessness the characters so often feel that intensely resonates.

Steven Soderbergh's Unsane may be a throwback to these and other hospital-set melodramas but it doesn't quite pack the same punch as the strongest of these films.

Claire Foy is front and center, doing most of the picture's heavy lifting as Sawyer Valentini, a woman struggling to escape her past. Stalked by a man (Joshua Leonard) over the past two years, she moves from Boston to Pennsylvania but can't quite get him out of her head. She seeks therapy at a nearby behavioral center and unwittingly ends up signing up for a 24-hour commitment there.

It isn't long before those 24 hours turn into a week, as doctors and nurses question her sanity. Then, the ultimate nightmare - her stalker shows up as a new staff person, under a new name, hellbent on continuing his pursuit...or could it be that she's really just going bananas? Sawyer can kinda-sorta count on the one fellow patient (Jay Pharoah) who believes she isn't crazy, plus her estranged mother (Amy Irving), who desperately wants her out of there, but actually departing this asylum from hell proves the tallest of tasks.

Soderbergh's decision to shoot Unsane entirely on an iPhone is actually quite nifty and powerful, making the proceedings look and feel more grounded in reality. It's too bad then that the screenplay, by Jonathan Bernstein and James Greer, is such a letdown, devoid of any real surprises. What really prevents Unsane from ever soaring, however, is the stalker, a villain always more insufferable than actually scary.

Foy, while no Olivia de Havilland, is in strong form, SNL alumnus Pharoah is inspired casting and Irving's of course always a pleasure to see grace the screen. Also, there are moments here and there where Soderbergh shows himself to be wholly capable of delivering the goods in a thriller like this but they're sadly few and far between, the script always getting in the way of building any real momentum. Oh, and did I mention this also includes a Matthew Broderick in Manchester by the Sea-level atrocity of a celebrity cameo. Why, Soderbergh, why?

I sure hope the spectacularly talented Foy can land more satisfying film vehicles than Unsane.

C+

Review: "Black Panther"

At last, a comic book film adaptation that doesn't leave me supremely restless!

Three years ago, filmmaker Ryan Coogler pumped a thunderbolt of vitality into the flailing Rocky franchise with his gangbusters Creed. Now, he has done the same for the middling Marvel Cinematic Universe. Black Panther, while hardly a perfect picture, is handily the most satisfying film to sport the Marvel name.

The film finds T'Challa (Chadwick Boseman) returning home to the technologically advanced African nation of Wakanda, following the death of his father, King T'Chaka. T'Challa assumes the throne but soon finds his place as king threatened by the entrance of the reckless N'Jadaka (Michael B. Jordan), a black-ops soldier with ties to Wakanda who is out for vengeance and determined to send the nation into a world war.

Boseman and Jordan may earn top billing but it's really the women of Black Panther who tend to steal the show.

There's Oscar winner Lupita Nyong'o as undercover spy Nakia, the former love of T'Challa's life; Danai Gurira as Okoye, the badass leader of Wakanda's all-female special forces crew; Letitia Wright, a wise-cracking delight as Shuri, T'Challa's innovative sister; and, of course, the incomparable Angela Bassett, wonderful (per usual) as Ramonda, queen mother of Wakanda.

This is one hell of an ensemble all around, which also includes Andy Serkis, gobbling up every shred of scenery as a black market arms dealer, and Martin Freeman, a tad more subdued as a CIA agent. There's also an amusing cameo from the one and only Stan Lee himself.

Coogler does a fine job orchestrating the picture's countless action sequences and the film looks divine, with cinematography by Oscar nominee Rachel Morrison and vibrant costumes designed by Oscar nominee Ruth E. Carter.

Black Panther may not be as emotionally involving as something like Creed or riveting as some of the past Batman films but, in an era when comic book movies are by-the-numbers as can be, fresh off the assembly line with scant inventiveness to be found, this one stands out as one of the finest in its genre. It is richly deserving of the praise and $$$ it has amassed and Coogler is a true superstar behind the camera.

A-

Review: "Annihilation"

Oh, Natalie Portman, it's so very nice to have you back where you belong.

Portman, whose turn two years ago in Jackie left me breathless, is once again in sensational form, this time in Alex Garland's eerie and inspired, if also uneven Annihilation. It's a sci-fi picture that recalls the likes of Alien, Invasion of the Body Snatchers and The Thing (and, in terms of sheer look and feel, is a dead ringer for Arrival) and, on occasion, hits the same sky-high heights of those classics.

Based on Jeff VanderMeer's eponymous 2014 novel, the film opens on Lena (Portman), a biologist, professor and former soldier, suddenly visited by husband Kane (Oscar Isaac), who has been missing for more than a year. Kane hasn't a clue where he's been and, shortly after his arrival, he falls gravely ill and, alongside Lena, is captured by the Southern Reach, a government organization.

At the Southern Reach compound, Lena is informed by Dr. Ventress (Jennifer Jason Leigh) that Kane is the sole survivor of a mission into the mysterious Shimmer, a region within a national park that formed after an extraterrestrial object struck a lighthouse within the park. With Kane on the verge of death, Lena volunteers to join the next expedition into the Shimmer. Alongside Ventress, physicist Josie (Tessa Thompson), anthropologist Cass (Tuva Novotny) and paramedic Anya (Gina Rodriguez), the quintet ventures into the Shimmer and well, let's just say a whole lot of freaky shit goes down over the next hour and a half.

Much of Annihilation, in the early-going at least, rings of those fabulous sequences in the aforementioned Ridley Scott and John Carpenter films, in which our crew investigates the abandoned surroundings of former/now deceased visitors. Garland's vision for the Shimmer is as splendid as it is unsettling. Kudos to the filmmaker, production designer Mark Digby and cinematographer Rob Hardy on their inventive efforts here.

The cast, too, is aces. Beyond Portman (who, per usual, rocks), Novotny and Thompson are terrific and I was especially taken with Rodriguez, who gets one scene in particular (which also happens to be the scariest in the film) that will strike many as just batshitcrazy but had me thinking 'Oscar clip!' Oh, and you can't go wrong with the legendary Leigh.

My qualms with Annihilation come with the picture's final half hour or so, in which at least one of the crew members actually manages to make it all the way into that lighthouse. Instead of building on all of the momentum leading into this finale, we're treating to some not-so-convincing CGI and a sort of battle of the wits that some may find captivating but struck me as supremely silly. The film, thankfully, ends on a note that is intriguing and satisfying enough to mostly make up for some of the missteps.

Annihilation is hardly pitch-perfect and I'm not convinced, years from now, will necessarily be looked upon as one of the great contemporary sci-fi features. That said, the cast is gangbusters, there are at least a dozen deeply unnerving or downright terrifying moments and Garland continues to prove himself one of the more innovative and idiosyncratic filmmakers working in this genre today.

B+

Review: "Phantom Thread"

Oh, how I hope the Academy at last has the good sense to make Lesley Manville an Oscar nominee!

Manville, whose brilliant turn in Mike Leigh's Another Year was worthy of not a mere Oscar nomination but the outright win, is once again kicking ass and taking names, this time with a key supporting role in Paul Thomas Anderson's Phantom Thread. With a mere glance, Manville is able to seamlessly steal a scene, even against that three-time Oscar winner Daniel Day-Lewis. When Manville doesn't grace the screen, which is far too often, she is sorely missed.

Manville's performance is, I'm afraid, one of a mere few reasons to check out Anderson's latest picture, a sumptuously designed but otherwise unpleasant and uninvolving vehicle for Day-Lewis, who is surprisingly in rather stiff form.

Day-Lewis portrays a real son of a bitch, superstar dressmaker Reynolds Woodcock who, in the 1950s, is the hottest name in London fashion. Bored with his latest female companion and frustrated with work, Reynolds takes a few days to escape to the countryside. There, he becomes enchanted with Alma (Vicky Krieps), a mild-mannered, beautiful waitress who is just as enamored with him.

Alma returns to London with him, where there's no shortage of friction between she and Reynolds' sister Cyril (Manville) and, eventually, Reynolds himself. Alma soon finds herself facing the same predicament as past women in Reynolds' life - how can one make him fall in love, not merely for a fleeting moment, but for a lifetime, in a long-term relationship? Well, Alma might just have a few more tricks up her sleeve than Reynolds' earlier companions.

Phantom Thread is, on an all-too-rare occasion, a glorious sight. The picture looks gorgeous, stunningly photographed by Anderson, with striking costumes by Mark Bridges (this should be a shoo-in for that Oscar). The Jonny Greenwood score is also exquisite. And, as already mentioned, Manville is simply divine as Reynolds' loyal, truth-telling sister. Every scene with her is riveting, as is a brief sequence toward the film's center with the always-great Harriet Harris as a wealthy but profoundly unhappy client of Reynolds'.

The downfall of Phantom Thread is in the Reynolds-Alma pairing itself, a stilted, soulless relationship that just isn't the least bit compelling - I'm still trying to figure out what Anderson sees in this duo! The film's final act, which closes in on the pair and sends Cyril to the sidelines, is a combination of tedious and absurd.

Phantom Thread sports marvelous stories that could be told, whether focused on the spellbinding Cyril, the fascinating Barbara Rose (the Harris character) or even those wise old seamstresses - imagine a picture told from their points of view! Instead, we're stuck front and center with Reynolds and Alma, two insufferable, chemistry-free people who suck the life out of a film that isn't without its precious pleasures.

B-

Review: "The Post"

In 1971, U.S. military analyst Daniel Ellsberg, then employed by the global policy think tank the RAND Corporation, emerged one of the world's most famous whistleblowers with his leaking of the Pentagon Papers to the American press. The Papers marked an unfiltered Pentagon study, spanning three decades and four U.S. presidents, of government decision-making, warts and all, pertaining to the Vietnam War.

Steven Spielberg's The Post observes how Kay Graham (Meryl Streep), the first female publisher of a major American newspaper (The Washington Post), and Post editor Ben Bradlee (Tom Hanks) vied to catch up with The New York Times, the first publication to report on excepts from the more than 7,000 pages of the Pentagon study.

The Nixon administration files a court order against the Times, temporarily barring them from further coverage on the Papers. This inspires Ellsberg (Matthew Rhys), hopeful another publication can continue this reporting, to leak the documents to Post reporter Ben Bagdikian (Bob Odenkirk). Further coverage is easier said than done, however, as Graham and Bradlee face pressure from the Post's financial stakeholders to refrain from stories on the Papers, plus the prospect of potentially being thrown in jail for publication of these top secret documents. 

Like recent Spielberg dramas Lincoln and Bridge of Spies, The Post is a sufficiently engaging and entertaining endeavor, hardly on the same level of his best work (or 2015's newsroom drama Spotlight) but just satisfying enough. After a meandering start, the proceedings catch fire as Graham, Bradlee and the Post staff agonize over whether to go to print. All is well until the picture's final few minutes, a heavy-handed ending that brings out the saccharin worst in the director.

Streep and Hanks, even if they never really disappear into these roles (unlike Jason Robards as Bradlee in All the President's Men), are in sturdy form. More interesting are the scene-stealing Odenkirk and Bruce Greenwood, who portrays former U.S. Defense Secretary Robert McNamara, a friend of Graham's who hardly comes across well in the Papers. A scene in which McNamara warns Graham about the Nixon administration's hellbent desire to shut the Post's efforts down is among the film's best.

Sadly, other talented actors, like Sarah Paulson as Bradlee's wife, Alison Brie as Graham's daughter and Carrie Coon as another Post reporter, serve as mere window dressing.

In the end, The Post is a fine, if workmanlike piece of Oscar bait, lacking the imagination and vitality of Spielberg's best work but, given the compelling subject matter and talent involved, still plenty watchable.

B+