Year: 2018

Who’s ready for an Easter egg hunt?

Director Steven Spielberg is back with his most ambitious film in close to a decade, giving the pop culture obsessed ample opportunity to ooh and aah an obvious and obscure references from movies, music and video games.

Based on Ernest Cline’s novel of the same name, “Ready Player One” is a high-octane action adventure film that crams so much information and detail into a little over two hours that a second screening may be necessary to catch even 75 percent of the film’s hidden content.

Spielberg’s film is both a celebration and critique of society’s increasing reliance on technology to transform and/or take over our lives. The dazzling visual flurry on screen is both amazing and emotionally draining, often to the point of excess.

“Ready Player One” follows Wade Watts (Tye Sheridan), a young man born into a near post-apocalyptic future who like everyone else lives out his days in a virtual reality world known as “The Oasis.”

Following the death of the technology’s creator, Wade and a group of friends he’s never met in person race against an evil corporation to find a hidden Easter egg that gives the possessor ultimate control of the virtual world.

The film’s acting performances are solid across the board. Sheridan and Olivia Cooke have genuine chemistry despite a thinly painted romance and Wade’s best friend Aech is a spectacularly developed character worthy of their own story.

While Ben Mendlesohn’s villainous Sorrento is largely one note, fellow veteran character actor and Oscar winner Mark Rylance melts into the role of “The Oasis” founder Halliday.

Played both as a young man and an older recluse, Rylance’s Halliday has a nuanced eccentricity that helps propel the film’s main mystery while also serving as the emotional center point.

His ability to balance emotional distance with an unspeakable sadness makes Rylance one of the main reasons “Ready Player One” elevates itself beyond genre fodder.

After spending close to a decade focusing on procedural historical dramas, Spielberg goes back to what he does best: dazzling audiences with an inventive, innovative blockbuster.

Perhaps the best thing about Spielberg’s direction is how nostalgic it feels, harkening back to the days where a ridiculous adventure was just simply fun. Despite how technically difficult “Ready Player One” must have been to make, the whole thing feels so easy and effortless, signs of a true cinematic master.

The film occasionally follows life on the outside, though the vast majority of “Ready Player One” is spent in “The Oasis,” designed by highly nuanced computer graphics featuring motion-capture performances from the lead actors.

The intricacy in detail from the obscure characters floating in the background of scenes to the technical wizardry behind individual skin patterns and strands of hair flowing in the wind is downright incredible.

Computer-generated features in this genre rarely receive recognition as contenders for best animated film awards. “Ready Player One” can easily be the exception to this rule and would definitely be worthy for the technical achievements of the film alone.

Devoted pop culture enthusiasts will likely spend hours upon hours watching “Ready Player One” frame by frame hoping to catch a glimpse and then catalog every secret clue and hidden gem Spielberg and his team crammed in to the movie’s nooks and crannies.

Casual viewers should still stay entertained even if they don’t get some of the film’s secondary references. “Ready Player One” has a highly engaging, thrill ride style of a storyline that will keep most audiences on the edge of their seat.

It’s still early in the year, but there’s no question that “Ready Player One” could sneak its way on to any number of Best of 2018 lists, which makes it a must see on the biggest screen possible.

Teenage boys struggling to find their voice while dipping their toes into the world of romance isn’t exactly groundbreaking cinema.

What separates director Greg Berlanti’s new film “Love, Simon” from the pack is its commitment to opening a dialogue about love, identity and self-discovery that will last long after audiences leave the theater.

There will come a day when films like “Love, Simon” won’t have to be prefaced by saying its protagonist is homosexual, but part of the appeal of this film in this is the way that it preaches respect and acceptance of sexual identity.

Simon (Nick Robinson) is an average high school student starting his senior year with a good family and good friends, none of whom know his secret.

When another gay teen in the closet anonymously reveals himself online, Simon begins an email conversation that evolves into infatuation.

Given such a complex character, it’s remarkable that Robinson is able to play both the foil for the comedic hijinks of other characters and carry the film’s largest emotional burden. Robinson balances his dual role with ease, providing a simple, yet measured performance that evokes an 80s-era John Cusack.

Josh Duhamel offers a surprisingly well-rounded performance as Simon’s dad, a stereotypical former high school quarterback who pals around with his son in overly masculine fashion and doesn’t know how to properly relate to Simon.

It’s hard to tell whether Duhamel is intentionally playing up the awkwardness of their relationship or his inability to relate on screen is actually working in his favor. Regardless, it comes across well in the final product.

Conversely, Jennifer Garner gives a very even-keeled turn as Simon’s mother aside from one profoundly wonderful scene late in the film as she tries to reconnect with her emotionally distant son.

This moment is a powerful gut-punch in a relatively light-hearted film that helps hammer home the movie’s central message with great effect, largely due to Garner’s pitch-perfect delivery in the moment.

The film’s best secondary character, Principal Worth, could be blandly one-dimensional, but is hysterically brought to life by “Arrested Development” star Tony Hale.

Even in the quickest of scenes, Hale is able to interject new life into the film with a quippy one-liner that might easily fall flat in the hands of a less talented comedic performer.

Berlanti does an effective job directing the well-written script from Elizabeth Berger and Isaac Aptaker by largely staying out of the way and allowing moments to develop on screen naturally.

It should be noted, albeit disappointingly, that “Love, Simon” would be unquestionably the number one movie at the box office if it were a traditional, heterosexual romantic comedy.

The fact that it isn’t, ironically, elevates and complicates the rather common, pedestrian genre of high school coming of age stories to interesting, engaging cinema.

“Love, Simon” insist on audiences dropping their preconceived notions of what love is and who it’s meant for, reminding us all that being different isn’t a bad thing.

The message of “Love, Simon” will get lost on those who need to hear its message the most: Potential audiences who, for whatever reason, will refuse to give “Love, Simon” a chance.

“Love, Simon” is a perfect companion piece to “Call Me By Your Name,” last year’s Oscar-winning coming of age drama that spoke a similar message in a much different way.

If prestige arthouse cinema isn’t your cup of tea, maybe the youthful, upbeat humor and heart-warming drama of “Love, Simon” could be the John Hughes-esque movie audiences didn’t know they needed.

Seventeen years ago, a below-average action flick based on a video game took Hollywood by storm and turned Angelina Jolie into a movie star.

Back then, it didn’t matter how outlandish the plot or unrealistic the characters seemed. “Lara Croft: Tomb Raider” was the film pretty much everyone saw and nearly everyone (critics aside) enjoyed.

If you go back and watch the 2001 film now, you’d have to agree that it doesn’t even remotely hold a candle to 2018’s vastly superior reboot simply titled “Tomb Raider.”

Like Jolie, Alicia Vikander comes to the title role off an Academy Award win and yet the 29-year-old Swedish actress brings significantly more to the table.

This reimagining of Lara Croft’s origin tale finds the young treasure hunter on the trail of her father, missing and presumed dead while searching for the burial place of an ancient Asian queen.

Unlike Jolie’s fully-formed and overly-endowed Lara, Vikander starts from the ground up with the character and brings a fresh vibrancy to the almost formulaic concept of a free-spirited woman shirking responsibility and her family fortune.

Her performance is measured and rich in nuance, emoting Lara’s inner monologue with her eyes with a dedication the character you typically don’t find in action movies.

Vikander doesn’t shy away from the intense moments, training over seven months for the role and doing a vast majority of the grueling stunts required.

It’s Vikander’s performance alone that makes “Tomb Raider” unquestionably the greatest film adaptation of a video game and merits the budget, director and script to further explore the complexities of her character in a worthwhile sequel.

Frequent villain Walton Goggins sneers with just the right amount of menace as the movie’s requisite bad guy Mathias Vogel, a character so loosely written one might half expect him to be the primary foe in a Roger Moore-era Bond film.

Dominic West attempts to match Vikander’s gravitas in flashbacks as Lara’s father Lord Richard Croft, He falls short of the mark, though it’s unclear whether the performance or a lackluster screenplay are to blame.

Films based off of video games are almost categorically subpar, as studios bank on name recognition and hardcore gamers spend big money at the box office after dropping $60 or more for their favorite game.

At times, “Tomb Raider” falls prey to these characteristics with a bumbling, uneven script from co-writers Geneva Robertson-Dworet and Alastair Siddons proving to be the film’s biggest, most troubling stumbling block.

And yet somehow, “Tomb Raider” is largely just a whole lot of fun.

Director Roar Uthaug invigorates his film with exciting, “how did they just do that” style action set pieces placing Lara at the brink of death only for her to survive the seemingly impossible.

There’s an array of unique and entertaining sequences from close-up hand-to-hand combat encounters to death-defying feats of heroism to a stunningly engaging bicycle chase early in the film that will draw audiences in.

It’s a pleasure to watch Vikander grow in the role over the course of the film, making Lara a woman stumbling across and finding strength in her brains, willpower and conviction.

Matching this with a hard-headed devotion to finding her father at any cost may seem formulaic or trite, but given the genre, it feels wholeheartedly authentic.

Video games like “Tomb Raider” are usually littered with cinematic, visually stunning mini movies known as “cut scenes” that further the story while the player simply watches.

Uthaug’s film feels like one extended, two-hour “cut scene,” prepping players for adventures yet to come.

With a stirring, impassioned performance from Vikander and daring action sequences, audiences would be hard-pressed to find a more entertaining time at the movies until the highly-anticipated “Avengers: Infinity War” drops next month.

Disney’s latest film cost 100 million dollars to make, and yet somehow, neither Marvel nor the Star Wars universe are attached.

Rebooting the classic children’s novel by Madeline L’Engle after a poorly received 2003 television film, “A Wrinkle in Time” hits theaters as Disney seeks to capitalize off the success of “Black Panther,” another film from an up-and-coming African American director.

Ava DuVernay approaches the source material with gusto, invigorating “A Wrinkle in Time” with a diverse array of cinematic approaches, clearly influenced by everything from “Alice in Wonderland” to “Avatar.” There’s a vibrancy to the work that isn’t quite matched by the script and only occasionally by the actors performing the lines.

“A Wrinkle in Time” follows middle schooler Meg Murry and her younger brother Charles Wallace as they travel through time and space with the aid of three celestial beings in search of her missing father. The theatrical version simplifies L’Engle’s rich, complex novel to a linear, point-by-point adventure dedicated to love and family.

Relative newcomer Storm Reid is a solid, confident performer meant to be the center of attention, but it’s hard not to be captivated by breakout star Deric McCabe’s wonderful turn as younger brother Charles Wallace.

From the minute he appears on screen, McCabe exerts a knack for bulldozing his way through a scene with the irrational confidence of a headstrong, brainy five-year-old. His ability to flawlessly crack one-liners belies his youth and inexperience as he outshines multiple Oscar winners on a regular basis.

Casting the larger than life personality Oprah Winfrey as the monstrously tall Mrs. Which feels like a gimmick at first glance, but Winfrey provides the necessary gravitas bring the film together and give the needed emotional stakes genuine weight.

On the flip side, red-headed Academy Award winner Reese Witherspoon flies about the screen with an energy befitting the manic, yet carefree Mrs. Whatsit in a performance that makes the most of her limited on-screen presence.

The film also has a talented, yet significantly underutilized supporting cast led by Mindy Kaling as the quote-happy philosopher Mrs. Who, Zach Galifianakis at his most subdued as the visionary Happy Medium and Chris Pine as the wayward father.

Pine especially gives an all-out effort in limited minutes, bright-eyed and impassioned while not understanding how his devotion to his work separates him from his family.

DuVernay comes off of a pair of films with heavier subject matter, 2014’s Martin Luther King biopic “Selma” and 2016’s “13th,” a documentary about flaws in the American penal system. “A Wrinkle in Time” brings out the kid in DuVernay, who gives her latest feature a warmth and brightness she hasn’t exhibited to date.

It’s evident that DuVernay did the kind of film that she would have wanted to see as a child, attempting to make “A Wrinkle in Time” this generation’s “The Neverending Story.”

The complexities of the science-fiction within L’Engle’s source material prove considerably difficult to translate effectively to film and younger audiences may disengage for several minutes of exposition.

While it won’t match the critical or commercial success of its kindred spirit film “Black Panther,” DuVernay’s feature does mark a new milestone cinematically for both female and minority directors. As the film industry moves to highlight diverse voices, it’s good to see that quality hasn’t diminished at the expense of perceived progress.

At its core, “A Wrinkle in Time” gives audiences exactly what they’re looking for this time of year: a crowd-pleasing, family-friendly adventure that will keep kids engaged and entertained for several hours while providing enough humor and depth satisfy adults as well.

When is a movie just a movie, and when does it become something more?

These are the questions posed by reviews and think-pieces about the latest comic book film from Marvel Studios, “Black Panther,” a film that stands out for its predominately African American cast from African American director Ryan Coogler.

Viewed under the microscope of its place in the larger Marvel Cinematic Universe, “Black Panther” veers far off on its own and doesn’t really set up May’s looming blockbuster “Avengers: Infinity War.”

More likely, Coogler’s standalone film intentionally yanks moviegoers in a completely different direction as a way to reflect social and cultural diversity within Hollywood, undoubtedly welcome and long overdue.

Racial identity plays a pivotal role within “Black Panther,” a semi-serious superhero adventure film whose events directly follow those of 2016’s “Captain America: Civil War.”

Following the death of his father, T’Challa must take up the throne of King of Wakanda and the mantle of Black Panther while facing challenges from rival tribes and outsider threatening to overthrow a peaceful, secluded nation.

Chadwick Boseman never gets in the way of the film as T’Challa, king of Wakanda and the titular Black Panther. But the somber, monotone whisper Boseman breathes as T’Challa gives the character unintentional weakness that neither Boseman nor Coogler are able to overcome.

It’s a difficult performance to get behind, though audiences know that they should and the film’s deep, recognizable cast help push Black Panther to the side as secondary characters fight for screen time.

A film that features Oscar winner Lupita Nyong’o as an one-note ally/former lover of T’Challa, Angela Bassett as his proud, yet abrasive mother and Academy Award winner Forest Whitaker as uncle and spiritual guide dominates Boseman’s weakness from start to finish.

The strength of “Black Panther” ironically lies in its villainy with motion-capture pioneer Andy Serkis delivering a knockout performance in full frame as nefarious vigilante Ulysses Klawe.

Yet Coogler demonstrates his true directorial power with the perfect casting and collaboration with Michael B. Jordan, reteaming with his “Fruitvale Station” and “Creed” star for the film’s most impactful, well-developed character.

As the antagonist Eric Killmonger, Jordan develops a depth of character rarely seen in comic book film and certainly an outlier for bad guys in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Killmonger’s inner pain and thirst for vengeance has real quantifiable stakes in a performance that seems far too exceptional for traditional comic book fare.

The best thing about “Black Panther” by a wide margin, Jordan outclasses Boseman and two Academy Award winners with ease, leaving audiences wanting more of the authentic villain than the reclusive, almost secondary hero the film gets its title from.

Coogler proves strongest as director and co-writer in the smaller, intimate moments as the large, action-packed sequences have a recycled, been there done that feel to them. When “Black Panther” leans into themes of racial identity and proper use of power, Coogler offers legitimate topics of conversation Americans need to have.
Somewhere along the way, however, this conflicts with the lighter superhero movie he’s tasked with making.

Without question, the social and political implications for the success of “Black Panther” far exceed its technical merits. There’s no exceptional artistry or bursts of creativity that separate Coogler’s film from the 17 previous installments of the Marvel Cinematic Universe.
“Black Panther” is a quintessential superhero film, and an above-average one at that, but it isn’t a cinematic revelation.

In truth, there isn’t a large amount of difference between “Black Panther” and “Wonder Woman,” 2017’s comic book movie of the moment, where engaged storytelling fell prey to predictable trope and over-reliance on computer-generated imagery in the third act.

There’s no debating that equality and inclusion in filmmaking of all kinds, blockbusters or otherwise, is a long-overdue step in the right direction for the future of cinema.

Stories need to be told from fresh perspectives regardless of race, color, creed or sexual orientation. Yet at the same time, it’s important that we don’t oversell these advances as something more than they are because of how long overdue they are. There likely won’t, and shouldn’t be, serious awards consideration for Coogler’s film months from now, and that’s okay.

“Black Panther” is an above average superhero movie that deserves the critical and financial support it’s receiving.

Putting it in an elite echelon with films like “The Dark Knight” or “Logan” feels like a sizeable stretch, but moviegoers would be hard-pressed to find a better action adventure film this spring.

Ten minutes rarely make a feature as unforgettable as Clint Eastwood’s latest directorial effort, an ode to American servicemen who put their lives on the line for strangers they’ll never truly know.

No feat of filmmaking can ever truly express the amount of heroism shown by Spencer Stone, Alek Skarlatos and Anthony Sadler as well as three other European men on a seemingly random train ride across Europe.

Try as he might, Eastwood’s latest biopic drama “The 15:17 to Paris” would be better served as a 20-minute short film rather than a 90-minute feature as the climatic third act overwhelmingly dwarfs the film’s haphazard, lazy first hour.

Three friends, along with several unnamed European travelers, thwart a terrorist attack on a train from Amsterdam to Paris. Based on true events, “The 15:17 to Paris” builds from a slow beginning to a gripping climax as Spencer, Alec and Anthony leap into action while on a leisurely trip across Europe.

In a bold twist, Eastwood cast the actual heroes to play themselves for much of the film. This gives “15:17 to Paris” unmatchable authenticity that feels increasingly voyeuristic over the course of 90 minutes. Yet at the same time, there’s something seemingly unsettling about washing American heroes reliving imminent danger and potentially traumatic acts of terrorism.

Casting the real men to play themselves gives “15:17 to Paris” a leg up in realism as Stone, Skarlatos and Sadler overcome their acting inexperience with a committed, inspirational effort.

In attempting unparalleled authenticity, Eastwood veers widely off course at times, most likely due to a poorly-written screenplay from first-time writer Dorothy Blyskal. Her haphazard adaptation fails to do even remote justice to the heroism of three Americans, not to mention the English and French businessmen on the train who risked their lives to save countless others.

There’s a lot of weird, random things in “15:17 to Paris,” but none more so than the outlandish, almost unbelievable scene where Spencer and Anthony take a bike tour in Germany led by a guide who sings “Springtime for Hitler” from Mel Brooks’ “The Producers” in one of the decade’s wildest left turns.

“15:17 to Paris” also becomes burdened with social commentary, lamenting attention deficit disorder diagnosis with throwaway lines like “My God is bigger than your statistics” and Anthony’s dated obsession with a selfie stick.

Told in traditional biopic fashion, Blyskal’s bland screenplay languishes in an over-exerted preamble to the actual attack, referencing moments briefly to keep audiences’ attention before diverting back to an hour’s worth of vapid, amateurish dialogue.

When the attack actually occurs, Blyskal and Eastwood rush through the aftermath in an attempt to wrap things up in a neat little bow. Viewers never get a clear picture of the impact terrorism has on the subjects it victimizes or the psychological ramifications these American heroes are placed under.

It’s easy to forget how languishing, emotionally detached the prior 75 minutes are when the film’s final 15 are so outstanding. Viewers can rightfully pay full price for the third act of “The 15:17 to Paris.”

Patience and the proper mindset will be paramount for audiences until the train leaves the station.

In his later years, Eastwood has defined his directorial career with vivid, cinematic biopics honoring the legacy of true American heroes. A weak screenplay devastate any real chance Eastwood had of telling this tale on the same cinematic or emotional level as Chester Sullenberger’s in 2016’s “Sully” or Chris Kyle’s in 2014’s outstanding “American Sniper.”

Without a doubt, stories like these need to be told on the big screen as a reminder of what it means to be American. Unfortunately, Hollywood hasn’t quite hit the mark with a film unlikely to age well.

In spite of its many flaws, “The 15:17 to Paris” is a film that deserves a wide audience that can truly appreciate and become inspired by the heroism of ordinary people doing extraordinary things.

Westerns just aren’t as simple as they used to be.

No longer can a filmmaker simply declare that “this town ain’t big enough for the both of us” and set in motion a lively, usually gregarious sequence of events that typically ends with a duel at high noon.

Complexity is key to a strong Western nowadays. Director Scott Cooper’s fourth feature film makes major strides towards deep meaning, but occasionally falters while on the journey for truth.

Racial tensions between white frontiersman and Native American tribes take center stage director in “Hostiles,” a searing, yet excessive tale of a retiring Army captain forced to escort his dying rival across dangerous territory during the 1890s.

Academy Award winner Christian Bale gets plenty of opportunity to brood and chew up scenery as the legendary Captain Blocker, a legendary man who prefers to speak with actions rather than words and brandishes justice with a bullet to the head.

There’s nothing particularly exceptionable about Bale’s performance, yet the talented actor will draw audiences in with his supreme confidence slowly being withered away as he comes to respect a menacing chief who killed many of his close friends.

With her best work since her Oscar-nominated turn in 2014’s “Gone Girl,” Rosamund Pike revels in a range of emotions with a half psychotic, half catatonic performance as a grieving widow.

Her character’s changing attitudes towards Native Americans reflects the overall point Cooper goes for with “Hostiles” and it’s only in Pike’s work that he achieves his end. While it’s clear the film wants viewers to relate to the battle-hardened Blocker, Pike’s dynamic performance forces audiences to view the film from a different perspective.

Billed as the third lead, Wes Studi (and all of the Native American performers in “Hostiles”) takes the proverbial backseat to the trials and character development of white performers, which feels counterintuitive to the overall goals of the film. Studi’s stoic, almost nonverbal performance is powerful and yet feels incomplete.

“Hostiles” also underutilizes a talented supporting cast including “Hell or High Water” star Ben Foster as a derelict officer and 2018 Academy Award best actor nominee Timothée Chalamet as a private under Blocker’s command.

Inherent danger and violence play key roles within “Hostiles” and the film confronts these realities head on in a manner that’s not exactly gruesome, but certainly not for the faint of heart either. Death by gunfire is approached with a plain, matter of fact casualness fitting of the time and yet may feel exceedingly callus to audiences.

Like his three prior films, Cooper maximizes the performances of his lead actors. Yet his films languish with tedious, poorly paced conversations.

“Hostiles” especially lingers well past the ending of moments failing to often achieve the artistic effect Cooper desires in his work.

Visually, “Hostiles” radiates with a warmth and depth usually found in only the best of the western genre.

Cinematographer Masanobu Takayanagi renders each frame vividly and artistically, as if audiences are leisurely strolling through a high-end gallery.

This gives Cooper’s film a perfect setting through which to examine racial strife, life and the meaning of death. However, “Hostiles” rarely rises to the level it pontificates at.

Viewers hoping to be challenged by deep, meaningful insights might be better served by Dee Rees’ Oscar nominated drama “Mudbound,” now available on Netflix.

Designed as Oscar fodder, “Hostiles” rightfully wound up just short of contention in any category, though the film’s artistic and acting merits were worthy of consideration.

As western films go, “Hostiles” strives to be classified alongside prestigious arthouse films like “Dances With Wolves,” but never really makes it into that rarefied air.

In spite of an end product that’s about 15-20 minutes too long, there’s enough quality within Cooper’s film to merit serious conversation for a trip to the theater.