Review: "A Quiet Place"

April 08, 2018 by Andrew Carden in Reviews

Thanks, John Krasinski. Now, I'm going to have incessant nightmares about drowning in grain silos.

Krasinski, the affable star of The Office, it turns out, has quite an eye for horror, not that his directorial effort A Quiet Place is ever truly terrifying (while, besides that silo scene). It is, however, immensely entertaining and exciting and exceedingly well-acted by all involved.

The picture opens on the Abbott family who, not far off in the future, appear to be among the few remaining survivors in a world on lockdown. You see, the planet as we know it has been invaded by blind extraterrestrial monsters that, more or less, resemble grasshopper-spiders on steroids and are supremely sensitive to even the slightest of sounds. Should anyone or anything make a peep, they're sure to draw the ire of these vicious visitors.

The Abbotts, led by dad Lee (Krasinski) and mom Evelyn (Emily Blunt), are master survivalists but one tragic hiccup results in their youngest child falling victim to the creatures, an event that draws unwanted attention to the surviving family - Lee, Evelyn, daughter Regan (Millicent Simmonds) and son Marcus (Noah Jupe). The relationship between Lee and Regan is especially affecting and absorbing - she blames herself for her brother's death and cannot recognize the love her father so clearly still feels for her.

As you can imagine, events transpire that draw the beasts closer to the family, resulting in one riveting set piece after another. Krasinski particularly gives Blunt and Simmonds (who was so wonderful in Wonderstruck last year) prime material to chew on, characters and situations far more compelling than what's seen in today's average horror flick. The humans, I must say, are leaps and bounds more interesting than the monsters, which aren't the least bit scary and are probably seen a tad too often.

A Quiet Place ends on a note that some may deem anti-climatic but I happen to think it's quite badass. The proceedings have a look and feel similar to last year's stirring It Comes at Night, though this picture is more fun and agreeable and, for better or worse, a whole lot less paralyzing.

Kudos to Krasinski for a jolly spring chiller.

A-

Review: "Ready Player One"

April 01, 2018 by Andrew Carden in Reviews

Ah, arcades. Growing up, I couldn't get enough of them. Sure, on our family trips to the likes of Hampton Beach and Lake George, I enjoyed soaking up the sun and frolicking in the water but it was really those stops at the nearby arcades that most floated my boat. Pinball, Skee-Ball, shooting galleries, video games - these and more provided me with heaps of entertainment, especially (no surprise) the movie/TV-themed offerings, like the Phantom of the Opera and Twilight Zone pinball machines.

In terms of delivering thrills, Steven Spielberg's Ready Player One operates on about the same level as an arcade. It isn't the most sophisticated of offerings - and surely isn't top-tier Spielberg - but still mostly succeeds as a jolly, stimulating romp, only petering out a bit with about a half hour to go. (After all, even for an arcade nut, two hours and twenty minutes straight spent in one would be a bit much.)

The picture, based on Ernest Cline's eponymous novel, finds earth on the verge of collapse in the year 2045. Providing the human race a much-needed distraction is OASIS, a virtual reality universe created by the oddball James Halliday (Mark Rylance). Following his death, Halliday devised a tricky three-part contest for people worldwide which, if somehow won, would provide the lucky champion with Halliday's fortune and exclusive control over OASIS.

Among those competing for this glory is Wade Watts (Tye Sheridan), a young wannabe-hero who has closely studied Halliday's past in search of clues to help unlock the mysteries to triumphing in this treasure hunt. After Wade emerges the first conqueror of part one of the contest, he collaborates with friends - the self-proclaimed High Five - on the dizzying journey to acing the remaining two parts. Hellbent on preventing his success is deranged businessman Nolan Sorrento (Ben Mendelsohn), who has a vast fleet of troops determined to steamroll the High Five and claim victory.

Especially in the early-going, Ready Player One completely delivers the goods. Visually, the proceedings are truly awe-inspiring, with Spielberg staging several exciting set pieces and Mendelsohn, per usual, in brilliant, scene-stealing form. The incessant pop culture references are hit-or-miss but, without delving into spoilers, let's just say fans of '80s horror cinema are bound to have a fabulous time.

Acting-wise, the performances range from exceptional (Mendelsohn) to serviceable (Sheridan and leading lady Olivia Cooke) to atrocious (Rylance). Of course, in a CGI-packed extravaganza like this, acting prowess isn't squarely on the brain. The thing is, the visual effects too wind up rather uneven, genuinely spectacular in the first half but more chaotic and haphazard as the picture reaches its conclusion. There's one especially wild battle that draws characters from a plethora of past films and shows but the staging is so disorderly, Spielberg fails to much utilize them - odd, since the cost of obtaining rights to these figures could not have been cheap.

My qualms aside, I did have a blast with Ready Player One. It's admittedly one of those pictures you have a rollicking good time with...and then perhaps reflect back on it, questioning if it's really all that great. I do think it has its shares of flaws - in the Spielberg canon, I'd be pressed to rank it alongside Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, also fun but in the most supremely silly way - but there are certainly more boring, less satisfying ways to spend nearly two and half hours. Also, it's the sort of stunning film that demands to be seen on a big screen. Don't wait for Netflix.

B+

Review: "Unsane"

March 25, 2018 by Andrew Carden in Reviews

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 Unsanefrom 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"

March 06, 2018 by Andrew Carden in Reviews

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"

February 24, 2018 by Andrew Carden in Reviews

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"

January 15, 2018 by Andrew Carden in Reviews

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-

2017 Movie Report Card

January 14, 2018 by Andrew Carden in Reviews

Review: "The Post"

January 07, 2018 by Andrew Carden in Reviews

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+

Review: "Call Me by Your Name"

January 06, 2018 by Andrew Carden in Reviews

Remember that glorious, gut-wrenching scene in James Ivory's The Remains of the Day in which the lonely butler Mr. Stevens (Anthony Hopkins) is caught by housekeeper Miss Kenton (Emma Thompson), the woman he secretly adores, reading a book of sweet love stories?

I will never forget it and it's that sense of overwhelming longing and desire that I figured would play so prominently in Call Me by Your Name, a picture not directed by Ivory but written by the filmmaker - a rare screenwriting credit. Yet the film, pretty as it may be, ultimately left me more restless than anything, one of the great disappointments of the 2017 film season.

The picture opens on young Elio (Timothee Chalamet) who, over the summer of 1983, spends his days relaxing in the Italian countryside with his family. His father (Michael Stuhlbarg), a professor of archaeology, invites Oliver (Armie Hammer), a twentysomething doctoral student, to spend much of the season with them. Initially, the introverted Elio and high-spirited Oliver seem to have little in common but, over time, they do grow close and, despite Elio's courting of Marzia (Esther Garrel), a sexual relationship soon blossoms.

Call Me by Your Name is sumptuously photographed by Sayombhu Mukdeeprom - it's a picture that looks just as splendid as Ivory's best. Alas, director Luca Guadagnino, who has impressed me in the past (I love I Am Love), shows far more sensual feeling for the countryside scenery than his characters. Elio and Oliver are just not as captivating or absorbing a pair as say, Mr. Stevens and Miss Kenton or Maurice and Clive of Ivory's Maurice.

Chalamet is dead-on convincing as Elio. Too bad he's stuck playing against Hammer who, his matinee idols looks aside, continues to exude the acting prowess of a block of wood. At the film's 11-'o-clock hour, Stuhlbarg has a monologue on young love that, while exquisitely delivered by the actor, rings of something manufactured that you'd only hear in the movies.

Call Me by Your Name dazzled my eyes but, to my surprise, barely tugged at the heartstrings.

Review: "I, Tonya"

December 31, 2017 by Andrew Carden in Reviews

At last, a film worthy of the talents of Margot Robbie and Sebastian Stan!

Robbie and Stan, two marvelous stars with rather patchy filmographies to date, are at their career-best in I, Tonya, a picture that serves up heaps of meat for both actors to chew on. Robbie, in particular, is truly stunning, in one of the year's best and most affecting performances.

The film, directed by Craig Gillespie and written by Steven Rogers, who too have only had intermittent success on the big screen, opens on young Tonya Harding (portrayed as a child by Mckenna Grace) being thrust into the world of figuring skating by LaVona (Allison Janney), her chain-smoking monster of a mother. By her teens (at this point played by Robbie), Tonya is one of the great up-and-coming American figure skaters, helped along the way by coach Diane Rawlinson (Julianne Nicholson), who shows Tonya infinitely more warmth and concern than her own mother ever provided.

Tonya eventually falls for Jeff Gillooly (Stan), a man equal parts doting and vicious, and is able to finally move out of LaVona's house by marrying him - alas, this is an act of moving from one abusive relationship to another. There are ups and downs for Tonya, both personally and professionally, culminating in a comeback attempt that inspires Jeff and his buffoonish friend Shawn (Paul Walter Hauser) to bring down Tonya's rival Nancy Kerrigan (Caitlin Carver). The rest, of course, is history.

I, Tonya is at its most absorbing early on, as Tonya catapults her way toward the top of the figure skating world, despite the barbaric pain (and negligible support) inflicted upon her by LaVona and Jeff. Robbie is downright exhilarating from start to finish, painting Tonya as a gifted, sad and wholly sympathetic figure. She's matched by Stan, often explosive as the volatile husband, and Nicholson, warm and wonderful, per usual, as the altruistic coach.

Janney, no surprise, is memorable too, but I don't think LaVona is quite as fleshed out on the page as Tonya and Jeff. It's a vivid portrayal of loathsome, garish woman, but Janney never quite gets that 'Oscar scene' you'd hope for and LaVona all but disappears from the picture in the second half.

While there is so much to love about I, Tonya, the proceedings are a tad less compelling once "the incident" comes to fruition. At this point, with the rock soundtrack blasting and film editing growing more snazzy with each frame, Gillespie and Rogers seem hellbent on kicking the film into Scorsese mode, and I think this only detracts from the brilliant central performances. Also, there's a little too much of the grotesque Shawn to stomach

My few quibbles aside, I, Tonya remains an absolute must-see for Robbie's stirring performance alone, a turn that, no doubt, is en route to an Oscar nomination. If only Stan could make the cut too!

B+