Year: 2022

  • Deep Water: Vengeful infidelity

    Deep Water: Vengeful infidelity

    Director Adrian Lyne, the filmmaker behind some of cinema’s most compelling erotic thrillers, hasn’t stepped behind the camera in two decades.

    The mastermind of Fatal Attraction, Indecent Proposal and Lolita last put out a new movie in 2002 with Unfaithful, a sexy Diane Lane and Richard Gere film that quadrupled its budget in box office revenue.

    With plenty of time to craft his next project, a pair of beautiful stars in the leads and a script based on a story written by the author behind Strangers on a Train and The Talented Mr. Ripley, there shouldn’t have been any reason why Lyne couldn’t execute his vision for a steamy psychological ride that would leave audiences on the edge of their seats for hours.

    That’s perhaps why it’s so disappointing that Deep Water, the latest Hulu original film to hit the streaming service, doesn’t quite maintain its spark in a disjointed feature with lofty highs and lackluster lows.

    Lyne’s film follows Vic Van Allen, a husband teetering on the edge of divorce who allows his wife Melinda to carry on several affairs, although each man who enters the picture mysteriously disappears along the way with Vic as the prime suspect.

    Ben Affleck continues a strong run of character driven performances in recent years as Vic, often brooding through his home with a distant stare that belies unspoken intensity underneath.

    When the situation calls for it, especially in conversations between Vic and other men, Affleck is cerebral and direct in his affectation, driving his point home with a callously calm intimidation to leave viewers guessing.

    Ana de Armas counters Affleck’s more subdued control with a sensual free-spirited approach to Melinda. The chemistry between the two is chaotic and electric. Neither performer fully trusts the other, nor really understands the psychology of their partner and their unease provides the perfect recipe to foster audience suspicion on both their parts.

    Well into the R-rated category essential for successful erotic thrillers, Lyne makes sure his film oozes sexuality through regular, but not gratuitous nudity and intensely intimate moments that further the complexity of Vic and Melinda’s relationship.

    The supporting cast is often treated as disposable as Melinda’s erstwhile lovers, but Grace Jenkins often steals scenes as the Van Allen’s adorable daughter Trixie and Tracy Letts provides much needed gravitas as a friend with concerns about Vic’s motives.

    Though it’s largely a well-shot and well-crafted movie, Deep Water is vastly disappointing at times with its cinematography when Vic and Melinda are driving around town. The shots are hastily put together and the use of green screen technology to layer in the background is shoddy and distracting, especially when looking through the rear window.

    So often, moody moments where composer Marco Beltrani’s score helps paint a picture of a marriage in disarray is paired with deafening silence in the attitudes and faces of Affleck and de Armas, only to have the whole scene ruined by obtrusive lights that feel completely out of place.

    Lyne does a terrific job however framing the audience geographically in each of the film’s locations from the outset. He smartly establishes the sizeable emotional gap in Vic and Melinda’s marriage through an early shot of a stairwell in the couple’s Louisiana home. Melinda disappears up a flight of stairs to the right after glaring wistfully at her husband only to have Vic venture up the adjacent stairs to the left, the separation between them clear from simple blocking.

    The biggest flaw of Deep Water likely is a result of the COVID-19 pandemic as the film was slated to be released in theaters nearly two years ago. It seems the delays caused the filmmakers to overanalyze their screenplay, trimming nearly a half-hour out of the running time.

    What happens in the final cut, unfortunately, is a rushed ending with several unfulfilled or short-changed storylines as if the majority of the third act was abruptly removed. This does help maintain the focus on Vic and Melinda, although much of the larger world-building Lyne establishes in the first 45 minutes becomes wasted as a result.

    Deep Water would have been a major disappointment in a theatrical setting, where its subpar cinematography and disjointed screenplay would prove fatal. But in a more casual streaming setting, it’s exactly the kind of tawdry erotic thriller that could charm ardent cinephiles for a couple of hours on date night.

  • Turning Red: Not so enchanting

    Turning Red: Not so enchanting

    Director Domee Shi isn’t a household name in animated film like Brad Bird, creator of the Incredibles films or Pete Doctor of Inside Out and Soul, are synonymous with Pixar movies.

    But the Chinese-Canadian filmmaker has developed a career out of making animated movies pulling from her heritage, first with the Oscar-winning short film Bao in 2018 and now with her major feature Turning Red, which forgone theaters and moved immediately to the Disney+ streaming service this weekend.

    The film is the second straight Pixar release to premiere exclusively on Disney’s online streaming platform due to the COVID-19 pandemic following Luca last year and while this allows the film to reach a wider audience more easily, Turning Red suffers from lack of studio support and almost feels like an afterthought from a studio whose most successful film in recent memory, “Encanto,” is likely to win multiple Academy Awards later this month.

    Shi’s film follows 13-year-old Meilin, an introverted, academic-oriented eighth grader with a small group of close friends who bond over a mutual love for boy band “4Town.” They plan to attend an upcoming concert in their hometown of Toronto, only to be waylaid by Meilin, who turns into a giant red panda when overly excited.

    Rosalie Chiang provides a bright cheer to Meilin, especially when narrating in the first act of the film. When Meilin turns into the panda, Chiang adds a slight panic to her cadence that accentuates Meilin’s frantic excitability.

    Sandra Oh is exceptional as Meilin’s overbearing mother Ming and her line readings of Ming’s frequent screeches instantly transport audiences back to their own childhoods during those moments where their own parents unintentionally embarrass them.

    The best animated portions of the film are when Meilin is in panda form as Turning Red becomes more visually dynamic with a better character model than Meilin in human form.

    Parents of younger children should probably watch Turning Red on their own before deciding whether to allow their kids to watch the film. Some of its rebellious themes, sexual innuendos and allusions to menstruation may not be subjects parents would approve of.

    Pixar’s animation is largely sharp throughout and Shi integrates Japanese anime style often into the design of the film when characters get excited, representing this glee with bulging eyes on the verge of tears that comes from the anime influence.

    The contrast in light and shadow Pixar’s animators are able to develop create a genuine three-dimensional element to the film that also is among the visual highlights.

    Though the film is set in the early 2000s, the only real signpost of the setting comes in the form of the boy band “4Town” that the girls try to see in concert from the opening moments of the film. In that way, Turning Red feels instantly dated as if it should have come out over a decade ago and not in 2022.

    Billie Eilish and Finneas, likely to win an Academy Award for Best Original Song for their theme to the James Bond film No Time To Die, craft several catchy yet unmemorable tunes for “4Town” and it’s in the moments where Turning Red leans into its cultural roots that the film becomes something beyond a strange PG-13 coming-of-age dramedy.

    Because it’s a Pixar film and released in limited theatrical markets to maintain eligibility, Turning Red is a likely contender for Best Animated Feature at next year’s Academy Awards, although the much more anticipated Lightyear spinoff of the Toy Story franchise this summer could push it out of contention.

    Not nearly on the level of Disney’s far superior family magic film Encanto, Turning Red may not be an ideal choice for younger audiences nor as much of a wide-spread crowd pleaser although catching the film on Disney+ offers a great opportunity for families to try the largely entertaining movie at low cost.

  • The Batman: Darkest night

    The Batman: Darkest night

    How is it possible to craft a completely original take on a character that has been reset, rebooted and reimagined countless times in print and on the silver screen over decades?

    It feels as if audiences, especially those soaked in comic book lore, have already seen every possible iteration of reclusive billionaire Bruce Wayne and his nocturnal vigilante alter ego Batman.

    But director and co-writer Matt Reeves has somehow managed to capture the detective element of the character in a fantastic new noir, The Batman, which has rocked the box office to earn more than $120 million in its opening weekend.

    The film follows a vengeful Batman as he and Gotham City police investigate the murders of several key political figures at the hands of a sadistic serial killer leaving riddles at every crime scene.

    Reeves has designed his film in such a way that the usual duality between the Batman and Bruce Wayne personas of the character becomes incredibly lopsided in favor of Batman in this iteration. It’s clear that the filmmaker, and to some extent Pattinson, view Wayne as more of the costume and Batman the real person in a psychological sense.

    Pattinson portrays the character with a weathered distance that isolates him emotionally and narrows the focus to deliberate, exacting violence and considered detective work in the shadows of the night.

    A hero, no matter how reluctant, is only as good as his villain is bad, and Paul Dano’s Riddler is exceptionally twisted and damaged. Dano builds his character around the real-life Zodiac killer and his portrayal leans heavily into the tortured serial killer aesthetic physically.

    Though they rarely share the screen together, Pattinson and Dano have better chemistry as antagonists than Pattinson does with “love interest” Zoë Kravitz as Selina Kyle. This isn’t to say that Kravitz isn’t solid in her role as Catwoman, but more on the fact that Pattinson plays Batman with so much disinterest in her welfare that their supposed flirtations feel clunky at times.

    The film’s ensemble cast helps fully realize the deep world that Reeves imagines for Gotham City with terrific performances across the board. Jeffrey Wright as Jim Gordon and Andy Serkis as Alfred provide excellent mentor figures to Batman and Bruce Wayne respectively while John Turturro is astounding as mob boss Carmine Falcone and Colin Farrell disappears into his role as the Penguin.

    Reeves does a lot of world building in The Batman that accounts for the nearly three-hour running time, but his deliberate pacing sometimes borders on excessively slow as he feels the need to show audiences every step of the plot in exacting detail.

    Greig Fraser’s dynamic cinematography leaps off the screen at every turn and perfectly keeps in tone with Reeves’ desire to keep Batman (and the film as a whole) within the shadows as much as possible. The absence of color throughout and Fraser’s expert use of low light make every moment a brighter hue exists pop even more.

    This is especially clear in some of the film’s more artistic moments where a fight sequence in a crowded hallway is illuminated only by gunfire or when Batman’s only light comes from a glowing red flare. Even when the screenplay and Reeves’ exceptionally elongated directorial vision stretch scenes to their limits, Fraser maintains audiences’ undivided attention with completely arresting visuals.

    The look of The Batman from its production design to costuming to how completely unrecognizable Farrell is as The Penguin thanks to transformation by makeup and prosthetic artists gives Reeves’ film a gritty texture that heightens the noir aesthetic to astonishing levels. Michael Giacchino’s haunting score intensifies the fear and melancholy that oozes out of every pore in The Batman.

    While it’s far too early to tell where The Batman might be under consideration for an award season that’s nearly a year away, Reeves’ film is certainly DC’s best chance to earn significant nominations since Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight fell just shy of a Best Picture nod at the 81st Academy Awards and won Heath Ledger a posthumous Oscar for Best Supporting Actor.

    Easily the best film based on a DC Comics character in over a decade, The Batman is the year’s first signature blockbuster despite being overly brooding and should be something ardent cinephiles see on the biggest screen possible to fully engage with the dynamic cinematography and world building.

  • Dog: Unlikely compatriots

    Dog: Unlikely compatriots

    Trailers don’t always give the best impression of what a film actually is.

    Sometimes it’s because the studio is attempting to trick potential viewers by showing the best clips in order to maximize profits. Other times, it’s simply because they don’t have any actual clue what kind of movie they have on their hands.

    This is especially problematic for first-time directors, who have to focus on so many different filmmaking elements that they’re unable to home in on a specific tone or try to make their film one genre, when in reality it’s best served as something else entirely.

    Such is the case for Dog, the co-directorial debut of Reid Carolin and Channing Tatum, working off a screenplay written by Carolin and starring Tatum as a former Army Ranger with traumatic brain injuries who is tasked with bringing his fellow Ranger to the funeral of a comrade hundreds of miles away.

    The catch here is that Tatum’s partner for this road film is a Belgian Malinois and while Carolin and Tatum are hoping for laughter with a bit of character building, Dog is at heart a deeply introspective drama with the occasional lighthearted moment to bring levity to weighty concepts like post-traumatic stress disorder, suicide, and other mental health issues that plague returning military personnel.

    In many ways, it reminds of a PG-13 version of Richard Linklater’s heavy road drama Last Flag Flying where the bond between former soldiers comes together over a lengthy trip to a funeral. Dog is exceptionally emotional in key moments as viewers learn more about Tatum’s Jackson and his health issues.

    Tatum delivers some of his most considered dramatic work as Jackson and while it’s natural for him to ease into the more comedic physical elements of the screenplay, it’s clear from the outset that Tatum’s mind is more attuned to Jackson’s fragile emotional state. Tatum plays the part of a wounded soldier trying to toughen up beyond his means well and the conflict running through Jackson’s mind in the more somber moments of the film wear on Tatum’s face in a way that pulls the audience into his consciousness.

    It’s tricky to pull off a two-hander film like this when one of the main protagonists is an animal, but Carolin and Tatum do a solid job of framing the three Belgian Malinois who portray Lulu in such a way that viewers can feel the dog’s emotions in deep, sad eyes and long panting breaths. The camera is often placed back and tilted up several feet away to make Lulu feel bigger than she probably is and also to help put her on more of a level playing field with Tatum.

    Tatum does a fantastic job of showcasing Jackson’s evolving bond with Lulu, which can prove problematic when the scene partner can’t really conceptualize what’s really going on and help to give the actor something to work with emotionally. But throughout, the relationship between man and dog feels genuine, which is the key conceit needed to make the entire film work.

    One of the most underrated things about Dog is the excellent use of the soundtrack, especially in the third act with the Alabama Shakes song “Hold On” anchoring a perfect edited scene transition on a downbeat as well as Chris Stapleton’s “Starting Over” helping to set the tone for the final moments.

    While it certainly won’t be at the top of any year-end list and it’s wildly mislabeled as a more comedic film than what appears on screen, Dog is a pleasant surprise during a time when studios usually release their worst films and is something worth taking a chance on in theaters.

  • Uncharted: International treasure

    Uncharted: International treasure

    Almost by definition, films based on video games are subpar features meant to propel teenagers into buying the latest installment in the entertainment franchise on PlayStation, Xbox, or computer console.

    Movie franchises have spawned from several popular titles over the years including multiple Tomb Raider installments, fighting series like Mortal Kombat and Street Fighter, as well as a Resident Evil series.

    In recent years, PlayStation has been the most aggressive in attempting to develop its original content with several planned films and television series in the works. The first of which, Uncharted, starring Tom Holland and Mark Wahlberg, debuted this past weekend after being twice delayed in 2021 due to the COVID-19 pandemic.

    Based on the action-adventure gaming franchise of the same name, Uncharted follows a young Nathan Drake as he is lured into a high-stakes quest for the long-lost treasure of world traveler Ferdinand Magellan by a fortune hunter who worked with Nathan’s missing brother Sam.

    Perhaps the biggest flaw of director Ruben Fleischer’s film is Holland himself, who gives a charismatic performance as Nathan, but sounds and acts too much like his now iconic Spider-Man character to be fully believable here as a naïve treasure hunter. The young British actor pulls off his American accent quite well, and yet ardent Marvel fans will hear and see Peter Parker on the screen.

    This especially occurs during the film’s numerous stunt pieces, which often require Holland to perform some sort of parkour leap or long swing that one might expect from a certain comic book webslinger. And while it’s to be sure that Fleischer is ramping up the dynamics of these sequences to give the video game aesthetic, Holland might not the perfect choice.

    Wahlberg fares somewhat better as fortune hunter and erstwhile mentor Sully as his charisma and surly Boston personality makes him a solid antihero with just enough questionable motivations to create dramatic tension with Nathan.

    The best performance in the film is given by Antonio Banderas, playing slightly against type as the heir to a global financier family with claims to the Magellan gold. It’s a welcome sight to see Banderas play someone this ruthless and the gravitas and edge he brings to the role makes for a formidable and logical foe in a film where logic is somewhat lax.

    For an action-adventure movie, Uncharted has a lot of turn-your-brain-off style entertainment that can be a lot of fun in bursts, especially a cargo plane sequence ripped directly from one of the video games that sets the tone for both the first and third acts of the film.

    Visually, Uncharted has some beautiful sequences that feel like the cinematic cut-scenes one might find in the video games and the exotic locations are treated as truly unique and special. 

    Fleischer doesn’t always find the right tone throughout as the film becomes a mixed bag of everything from National Treasure to Angels and Demons to the Tomb Raider movies without defining itself separately.

    In spite of all of its many flaws, moviegoers desperate for a little bit of mindless fun and willing to go with the incredulous nature of the plot may find Uncharted worth taking a chance on in theaters.

  • Marry Me: The simplest of proposals

    Marry Me: The simplest of proposals

    Sometimes the best performances an actor can deliver on screen are the ones that closely mirror who they are in real life.

    They could be portraying another actor and draw from their own personal experiences to get into the right state of mind or perhaps they have gone through similar struggles and find that the best way to connect to the character.

    And yet, in some instances, a character can be written in such a way that it just feels like the actor portraying them is just being 100 percent themselves just with a fake name and made-up storyline.

    Marry Me, the latest romantic comedy to arrive in theaters as well as streaming on Peacock, essentially asks the question, “What if Jennifer Lopez randomly proposed to an average nice guy on the street and brought him into the world of superstardom?”

    Director Kat Coiro’s major feature film debut evokes the classic Julia Roberts rom-com Notting Hill but without the same amount of heartfelt laughter and emotion.

    When pop superstar Kat Valdez finds out her fiancé is cheating on her seconds before a live televised wedding, she spontaneously opts to marry Charlie, a stranger in the crowd, instead.

    Lopez plays a heightened version of herself as Kat in a performance that’s slightly naïve to the world around her and just wants to make genuine connections with the people in her life.

    Her chemistry with the dorky, yet charming Owen Wilson can be a tad hit-or-miss, but where Lopez truly shines in Marry Me are in the film’s numerous musical moments. Backed by a soundtrack she created, it often feels like Lopez is shooting a music video with dazzling wardrobe, a cavalcade of dancers and a flashy, constantly moving camera.

    When Marry Me is at its most entertaining, it’s Kat walking down a flight of stairs in a million-dollar ballgown while belting a ballad or a montage of Kat and Charlie’s lives being changed by the other while Kat records the song playing in the background. It’s the Lopez show from start to finish.

    Wilson, on the other hand, is as understated as he can be as the everyday man that he’s played in film after film after film. His chemistry with Lopez isn’t exactly ideal but works in the context of this romantic comedy as it doesn’t really matter how connected Wilson and Lopez actually are. He is effective on his own, especially as a sympathetic teacher. In a larger context, however, it’s clear Wilson is not on the same page as Lopez in the overall scheme of Marry Me.

    Among the supporting players, none is better than comedienne Sarah Silverman as Wilson’s coworker and guidance counselor who just happens to be LGBTQ+ to keep her from being a better match than Lopez. Silverman delivers the comedy from start to finish and is largely responsible for much of the laughs of Marry Me as well as the impetus of the film’s plotline as well.

    Written by four screenwriters, the overall plot of Marry Me is so incredulous that It makes the traditional romantic comedy seem bland by comparison, but Lopez and Wilson make the script work in their favor to create a largely enjoyable film.

    While it isn’t the kind of movie that would be recommended to travel to the theaters to see, the fact that it is equally accessible on the Peacock streaming service makes Marry Me worth a mild recommendation for moviegoers to seek out if they already have the streaming service.

  • Nightmare Alley: Beautiful noir for small crowd

    Nightmare Alley: Beautiful noir for small crowd

    Acclaimed auteur Guillermo del Toro hasn’t made a new film since winning both best director and best picture in 2018 for his eccentric feature The Shape of Water.

    del Toro is known as a master of the avantgarde, relishing in the eccentricities of life and the oddities of horror for decades with everything from Pan’s Labyrinth to a pair of Hellboy films to an upcoming adaptation of Pinocchio for Netflix.

    His latest film, Nightmare Alley, taps into del Toro’s love for the obscure and bizarre, all the while emphasizing the uniqueness of a period piece that twists and bends what the mind might find conceivable.

    Based on both the 1946 novel and 1947 film of the same name, Nightmare Alley follows Stanton Carlisle, a man who joins the circus leading up to World War II after murdering a man and burning down his house. When he learns the art of mentalism from a “clairvoyant” couple, he sets off on his own for fortune that ultimately leads down a dark path. 

    Bradley Cooper provides a mostly stoic yet measured performance as Stanton and it’s a turn that helps ground the audience in the story without endearing them too much to his questionable choices. 

    While his chemistry with Rooney Mara’s Molly is somewhat shaky despite the plot’s desire to pair them, his ability to match Cate Blanchett’s mysteriously alluring Dr. Ritter makes for a scintillating repartee that anchors the back half of the film. 

    Nightmare Alley has an incredibly deep and talented supporting cast from David Strathairn and Toni Collette’s masterful work as the clairvoyants to Willam Dafoe’s circus leader to Richard Jenkins perfectly playing against type as a rich and nefarious widower. 

    del Toro’s film is a visual cavalcade of everything that makes del Toro one of the world’s premiere filmmakers. There’s so much depth to each scene with elaborate production design and set dressing creating a world in every location. 

    Cinematographer Dan Lausten creates a wide, expansive arena for cinematic beauty in every frame, longing for audiences to linger in the haunting complexities of del Toro’s vision. No matter what the camera is focused on, each character and set piece is framed and lit in such a way that demonstrably makes it feel like the most important moment in the entire film, which is an astounding feat for a feature littered with unforgettable imagery.

    At a running time of 150 minutes, Nightmare Alley somewhat languishes out of the gate as del Toro deeply and richly builds the world of his film to the detriment of pacing. Once Stanton strikes out on his own, however, Nightmare Alley picks up considerably and becomes an exceptionally compelling noir. 

    The issue truly stems from del Toro’s insistence on creating a backdrop for Cooper and the rest of the cast to revel in. There isn’t much to define the story outside of the technical aspects for most of the first hour and many viewers may decide to opt out of the film altogether before things fully come to fruition.

    As a result, Nightmare Alley is unlikely to receive any major acclaim come Oscars season, although it could do well in below-the-line categories like production design, cinematography and costuming. 

    While it might behoove ardent cinephiles to seek out specialty screenings of the film in its new limited black-and-white release, casual viewers might be more willing to take a chance on Nightmare Alley now that it has become easily accessible on Hulu and HBO Max. The vision of del Toro combined with masterful technical elements and compelling, yet somewhat thin performances make Nightmare Alley something worth taking a chance on via streaming service that they wouldn’t normally drive to a theater to see.

  • Home Team: Matter of inopportune timing

    Home Team: Matter of inopportune timing

    Super Bowl championship winning coach Sean Payton announced he was leaving his New Orleans Saints after 16 years with the franchise last week.

    Just days after his decision, a brand-new Netflix film about a pivotal moment in Payton’s coaching career ironically debuted focusing on yet another time Payton was away from his Saints.

    Home Team, a collaboration between Adam Sandler’s Happy Madison Productions and Netflix, is based on his life during the 2012 NFL season, where Payton was suspended by Commissioner Roger Goodell for an entire year due to a scandal where assistant coaches paid bounties to players for injuring their opponents.

    The Kevin James-led film follows Payton back in his hometown of Argyle, Texas, where he helps a rag-tag middle school football team, including his young son Connor, turn around a losing season.

    James is perhaps the most serious he has been in his entire filmography as Payton, a man struggling to find his identity without a job for a year while trying to reconnect with his son. James has truly funny comedic moments that come as natural extensions of the script rather than the comedian trying too hard to force the issue and over-power the punchline.

    There’s a genuine warmth to his performance that endears the audience to Payton’s plight and helps build the foundation of an easy, yet enjoyable sports comedy.

    Twilight star Taylor Lautner plays the team’s young head coach and while his performance is somewhat static and monotonous, it plays well opposite James and some of the more outgoing young stars on the team.

    Because every football movie seems to require an alcoholic assistant coach, Gary Valentine stumbles through his lines physically and verbally as Mitch Bizone. For a PG-rated film, pre-teens may find Valentine’s performance comedic, but it truly comes across as ineffective and just slightly over-the-top.

    Rob Schneider plays Payton’s ex-wife’s new husband, a vegan holistic teacher who serves no real purpose other than to make James seem more normal and relatable by comparison.

    Directors Charles and Daniel Kinnane do their best to mimic classic sports films like The Bad News Bears and The Sandlot with their film and, at times, their direction evokes those films in a positive light.

    But for the most part, Home Team suffers from the same overwrought sports cliches that plague so many movies in this genre and leans in a bit too much into the light-hearted, boisterous physical comedy prevalent in Sandler-produced films. There are several extraneous characters written into the screenplay from Chris Titone and Keith Blum that feel design just to elongate the film’s running time and Texas football fans will have issues with the timeline and season schedule represented for middle school teams in the movie.

    As Netflix films go, Home Team is at best a middling feature not worth a look for adult cinephiles who haven’t poured through the studio’s extensive catalog of prestige films like The Power of the Dog and Tick, Tick, Boom. But for young moviegoers looking for something along the same lines as American Underdog that they can watch in the privacy of their homes, they could do far worse.

  • Mass: Big drama in small spaces

    Mass: Big drama in small spaces

    Robert Redford’s Sundance Film Festival has always been the premiere way for independent filmmakers to debut their work and kick off a full year of promotion to find an audience.

    This year’s festival has gone digital due to the Omicron variant of COVID-19 preventing cinephiles from catching the best 2022 has to offer so far in person, but 2021 Sundance entries are making their way to general audiences.

    Without question, the best film at last year’s festival comes from first-time writer/director Fran Kranz, who astonishingly crafts an intensely theatrical film plugged into current events and sure to tug at heart strings.

    Mass has a simple through-line. Two couples meet in a church basement to discuss an unforgivable tragedy. One couple’s son murdered the other as part of a mass shooting at a local high school and as part of the intense healing process, both couples agree to meet to discuss their sons’ lives and grieve.

    The four stars at the center of the film are expertly cast and all deliver remarkable performances worthy of making Mass the best ensemble film of the year and any of the four leads worthy of individual recognition.

    Ann Dowd’s Linda shows remarkable perseverance and boundless empathy despite the emotional devastation of her son’s actions, perfectly balancing Reed Birney’s matter of fact melancholia as Richard, the father who felt incapable of helping his son.

    Jason Isaacs covers Jay’s self-righteousness with a methodical, deliberate pursuit of understanding that borders on callous without completing crossing the line, while Martha Plimpton’s Gail expertly harbors anger mixed with profound sorrow without a real place to put either.

    While the physical distance between the four actors feels wide in the intimately tight shots Kranz chooses, their emotional distance is even more pronounced, a testament to just how specific and nuanced each choice of gesture, emphasis of phrase, undercutting of dialogue is. 

    Birney and Dowd have an unspoken chasm between them as Richard and Linda still cannot fully comprehend the rationale of their son’s actions, which has driven a wedge in their marriage.

    Jay and Gail have a much more supportive relationship that Isaacs and Plimpton timidly show in smaller moments of Mass, but each showcase how their pain manifests on an individual level that neither can truly console the other about.

    Kranz’s near-flawless screenplay takes the proper amount of care to establish what needs to be explained to the audience while not spoon-feeding them everything like many dialogue-driven films feel compelled to do.

    Tension and apprehension build slowly over the course of the first thirty minutes as the two couples prepare to meet and spend awkward early moments together.

    The film’s cinematography is not obtrusive, but not overly simplistic either as Kranz and cinematographer Ryan Jackson-Healy press in on the actors’ faces as events unfold to hyper-focus on reactions and intimidate revelations. This works especially well with the extensive and much needed cross-cut editing style of Yang-Hua Hu, who balances the emotions of whoever is speaking with genuine reactions of those hearing them.

    Visually, Mass begins mostly with the actors shown in pairs, capturing Jay and Gail supporting each other or Richard and Linda sharing stories in two-person frames. By the climax, however, Franz cuts the room down even further, keeping each actor secluded in their own frame to maximize the isolation each character feels and heighten the dramatic tension with rapid-fire cross cutting in a way that makes Mass more like a cinematic experience than just an exceptionally well filmed stage play.

    For a film that takes place almost exclusively in a small room with four people seated around one table, the visuals and editing give Mass a larger-than-life aesthetic that pushes the audience into the fray of these conversations as if viewers are observing from just a foot or two away.

    Every moment cinematically is considered carefully in choosing the focus, often keeping audiences hearing the words of a vulnerable Linda while staring into the heartbroken eyes of Gail or pressed into the snarl of Jay’s disgust as Richard describes ignorance of perceived warning signs.

    If the camera panned wider or the script was done as a stage play, audiences would be so hyper-sensitive to watch the speaker that they would perpetually lose the masterful non-verbal reactive work, which becomes almost more important than Kranz’s words or the actors’ line delivery. The emotion comes from seeing the pain in an unflinching, closeup way that only cinema could provide.

    A sure-fire winner at the Film Independent Spirit Awards, Mass also has somewhat of a chance to factor into this year’s Oscar race with Dowd’s performance seeming like the best opportunity to be recognized as a supporting actress if eligibility allows.

    Now available to a wider audience, Mass is an absolute must-see film for cinephiles looking for a substantial drama sure to make an impact in the relative doldrums of January.

  • The Tragedy of Macbeth: The weight of language

    The Tragedy of Macbeth: The weight of language

    Adapting the works of William Shakespeare from the stage to the screen is a time-honored tradition of prestige filmmakers.

    Bringing the bard’s words to life in a way that casual audiences can understand and appreciate is perhaps the most difficult task of any director, theater or film. Shakespeare’s complicated lyrical prose uses far too many metaphors and overly floral language for the lay person to understand without a dictionary or several times reviewing and understanding the text.

    Joel Coen, working for the first time separately from his brother and filmmaking partner Ethan, takes aim at one of the English playwright’s most demanding works, a five-act epic with misery, madness, murder and mayhem.

    The Tragedy of Macbeth, trimmed to a 105-minute retelling, finds the titular character immediately after winning a major battle for the Scottish army when three mysterious witches tell him that he is to become a higher noble, and soon after, king. This destiny manifests itself through treachery at Macbeth’s hand pried on by his manipulative wife and results in the destruction of countless noble lives.

    Denzel Washington is at his most compelling, yet manic performance that he’s given in years as the titular Macbeth, operating calmly, frantically and devolving to outright insanity in a matter of moments. His Macbeth seamlessly devolves into madness without any grandiose gestures or raving soliloquies. It’s a slow burn descent fueled by inner pain.

    At his right hand, Frances McDormand revels in the classic lyrical style of Shakespeare’s language and delivers Lady Macbeth’s dialogue with a poisonous tongue fitting of the villainess but with a self-righteousness that belies the evil within her heart.

    The film is also bevied by a tremendous supporting cast including Brendan Gleeson’s commanding presence as Duncan and Corey Hawkins’ redemptive hero in Macduff.

    Coen’s most masterful piece of filmmaking comes not from the expert performances he pulls, but from the bizarrely wonderful visual moments he creates from 4×3 framed black and white cinematography that blends the world of theater with cinema in sharp, eccentric ways.

    Cinematographer Bruno Delbonnel takes the intimate soundstages Coen chooses to stage his theatrical play on and coats them with layers of cinematic light and shadow to create a much more elegant backdrop than the film actually deserves.

    Visually, The Tragedy of Macbeth is among the year’s sharpest, most engaging features and left on silent, it would make a constant moving art gallery worthy of its own show in New York or London.

    Unfortunately, the film is painstakingly dense and inaccessible to the point that its ease of access streaming on Apple TV will make Coen’s film something audiences will frequently pause or outright turn off. There isn’t enough dynamic cinema to maintain a solid interest for the full run time and the weight of the faithful adaptation of Shakespeare’s dense language will force some viewers to stop, Google and rewind scenes several times just to figure out exactly what is happening or what is being said.

    This ultimately lays on the feet of the filmmaker himself, who truly isn’t making The Tragedy of Macbeth for anyone but himself. And while the most deliberate of cinephiles or Shakespearean scholars will love the authenticity of the project, most of the nuance will fall flat for those who either don’t know what to look for or can’t interpret Coen’s film properly.

    Because this is a prestige film with A-list actors with a classical background, it’s nearly impossible to believe that The Tragedy of Macbeth won’t be a major contender come awards season with acting nods for Washington and McDormand almost a certainty and a best picture nomination increasingly likely by the day.

    The Tragedy of Macbeth is far from the easiest watch in 2021, not simply from the content itself, but just as much from how Coen struggles to bring Shakespeare to life in an easily digestible way. Nevertheless, the film’s star power and quality moments however frustrating make The Tragedy of Macbeth something worth taking a chance on for those already with an Apple TV subscription.