'Soul' salvages a surprisingly dreary holiday movie season

After the letdown of The Midnight Sky and the infuriating disaster that was Wonder Woman 1984, Pixar's latest -- Soul -- is a breath of fresh air. 

In some ways it's not the most wholly original story -- it deals with someone prematurely dying and trying to get back to earth to fulfill unrealized promise -- terrain covered quite well in Heaven Can Wait (both versions) and A Matter of Life and Death. But it's a very thoughtful and emotionally mature film, gorgeously animated and performed with great conviction, especially by Jamie Foxx in the lead role.

Although Pixar's films are best enjoyed on the big screen with an audience, Soul plays quite well at home. It revolves around an affable music teacher named Joe Gardner who dreams of being a successful jazz pianist (in the world of this movie, jazz clubs are both hip and thriving in New York City) but spoiler alert is killed right before his dream gig.

It's a bravura opening that leads to some even more elaborate complication when Joe is paired with a nascent soul (dubbed no. 22) is search of a "spark" that will give her a fulfilling life in a person back down on earth. It all gets very complicated, and I'll admit a little confusing (I'm in the midst of trying to train and corral a puppy so I was very distracted while watching).

This is probably Pixar's most complex film since Inside Out and probably it's most sentimental since Up. I've enjoyed the Toy Story franchise, but generally speaking I think their one-off originals are always more satisfying than their spin-offs and sequels. And Soul deserves a lot of credit for being an effortlessly black film without patting itself on the back for it.

It has the kind of simple yet profound message that most children an adults can appreciate -- and it's funny and engaging enough to be a real crowdpleaser.

In other words, it was a real palette cleanser after the exercise in crass cynicism that was Wonder Woman 1984. Part of the reason Pixar rarely falls flat on its face (with the notable exception of the Cars franchise) is because its productions require years to prepare and execute, and that meticulousness really comes across on screen.

I know it's more complicated when dealing with real human beings -- but movies like Wonder Woman 1984 (and to a lesser extent The Midnight Sky) feel almost unfinished, as if they were rough drafts of what could have been a better more interesting film.

Like for instance, as charming as Chris Pine is, did he really need to be brought back for the sequel? I understand it's plot function --sort of-- but it would have made for an interesting movie (and given Gal Gadot more to do) if she had to learn to love someone new or came to grips with the idea that being alone is ok. Instead, we're saddled with a childlike premise about ... wishes?

It's been a frustrating movie season. With the exception of Ma Rainey's Black Bottom, the overwhelming majority of this year's awards fare is unavailable to rent or stream (at least at the moment) and there's just not a lot out there that is available to get too excited about.

I don't expect to be able to sit comfortably in a theater again until maybe June of 2021 -- so it's gonna be a long slow slog. Sigh.

'Wonder Woman 1984' is a woefully disappointing mess

For a Wonder Woman movie there isn't a lot of Wonder Woman in Wonder Woman 1984, at least not in the first half which is a bit of a jumbled mess. After a rousing opening -- which winds up not amounting to much -- set in her youth back on her home planet, the film becomes the closest thing to a Joel Schumacher style superhero film I've seen in years.

The always charming Gal Gadot, who got to have fun playing a fish out of water in the first film, is largely a bland, straight woman here. Kristen Wiig is basically doing a variation on Michelle Pfeiffer's performance in Batman Returns, but not as effective  and Pedro Pascal gives a very campy, sweaty performance which feels like it's in an entirely different movie, and is too similar to a young Donald Trump aesthetically to not make that comparison.

The film's conceit -- that it's set in 1984 is overplayed, as most of these kind of period films are -- and the candy colored cuteness reaches its breaking point during an extended montage where Chris Pine (inexplicably, and I mean inexplicably brought back from the dead as Wonder Woman's long lost love interest) tries on a bevy of stereotypical 80s outfits. Pine is a likable actor, and he commits to playing his WWI-era character's amazement at the future, but he's just one detour too many in this overstuffed movie -- that looks amazing but is maybe one of the sillier superhero movies I've ever seen.

By this point, there has been one all-to-brief Wonder Woman action scene -- and that would be fine if the decidedly ludicrous plot had been more engaging or more comprehensible, or if the terrific cast had the opportunity to play people instead of types.

Wiig in particular is a disappointment here. She is given a lot of screen-time not the space to inject much of her own comic rhythms into her performance. We've seen this kind of nerd-to-supervillain transformation many times before (Jim Carrey in Batman Forever, Jamie Foxx in The Amazing Spider-Man 2), and she's just going through the paces. I can't buy her as a badass villain, no matter how much dark eyeshadow she wears. And there's a strange preoccupation with objectifying her undeniably well-toned body (including an emphasis on her ability to wear high heels and somehow just removing her glasses makes her sexy?) which is strange coming from a film co-written and directed by a woman. 

Patty Jenkins, who is an incredible talent, seemed to have a real cohesive vision with the 2017 original that was sustained throughout even if the finale did give way to the same CGI overkill that overwhelms so many of the films in this genre.

Still, that movie felt special -- it felt like a real event. This movie feels disposable in the worst way -- as if it exists just to exist -- because the first Wonder Woman was such a big hit, there was an obligation to make another. And it's still better than most of the recent DC Comics output these days, which has become insufferably dreary and incoherent.

Wonder Woman 1984 isn't aggressively bad per se -- but it's far more of a bore than I expected it to be. It wants to be about big ideas and soaring emotions, but it fails on both counts.

It actually gave me more appreciation for the Marvel universe, not that all of those films are perfect, mind you, but they are almost all very plot and character driven and you have a sense of where they are going and why. In Wonder Woman 1984, individual moments work -- the opening, a dreamy flight in her invisible plane, an armored car chase in the desert  -- but as a cinematic experience it's hard not to see it as a colossal disappointment.

Ironically enough, Warner Brothers' decision to pull the film from theaters and release it on streaming was viewed as a huge blow to the film industry, but I actually think they dodged a bullet here. I am sure this film would have opened big (in a covd-less world) because of the goodwill generated by the original, but I have a hard time thinking it would have been well-received or been the savior of the movie business.

In fact, the most I think of it, the more I kind of hate it.

Clooney's languid 'Midnight Sky' is a misfire but he isn't

George Clooney has some of the most expressive eyes in movies -- and I've missed seeing him and them in films for the past four years. They are put to great use in his new downer of a sci-fi film, The Midnight Sky, but unfortunately the film never matches his intensity.

It's got a smart sci-fi premise. It's nearly 30 years in the future and the majority of Earth has been destroyed, presumably due to the climate crisis. A gaunt and grizzled Clooney plays a terminally ill scientist who has chosen to live his final days in Arctic but suddenly finds purpose when he discovers a space craft (populated by the likes of David Oyelowo, a totally wasted Kyle Chandler and a pregnant Felicity Jones, all giving indistinct, lowkey performances) that is headed for Earth AND a mysterious, young stowaway, whom he forms a special bond with.

Clooney has to traverse a perilous tundra in order to send a signal to the craft that Earth is no longer inhabitable, before it's too late. So far, so solid. But the movie can't decide whether it wants to be a emotional tearjerker or a thriller. The space station crew, while populated by likable actors, isn't particularly engaging, so it's hard to get too emotional about their fate. 

Meanwhile, there's some real intrigue in the Clooney-mystery girl subplot (although I saw the twist in that one coming), but he cuts away every time things start to get more interesting. I love Clooney is suave movie star mode (think the Ocean's films) but he's also demonstrated that he can be a powerful serious actor too, but as a director he has deprived himself of an opportunity to fully take center stage here. 

His directorial career has unfortunately been far less satisfying than his acting oeuvre. I thought Leatherheads was cute and The Monuments Men was watchable, but in my opinion he has only made two truly good movies Good Night and Good Luck and 2011's underrated The Ides of March.

The Midnight Sky is his most effects-laden film (it looks great) and his most spectacle-y, even it's a dour, quiet film for much of it's running time. If nothing else, he demonstrates that he can make something on a bigger canvas (his previous more successful directorial efforts were decidedly insular) but the film feels derivative of better space epics like The Martian, Interstellar, Ad Astra and Clooney's own Gravity.

Even a particularly hokey scene -- where the character's sing along to Neil Diamond's "Sweet Caroline" while floating through space, recalls his Gravity character's affinity for country & western music.

It's unclear to me if he was trying to recapture the success of the film here. Space has been good to Clooney, although it did no business, he was excellent in Steven Soderbergh's 2002 remake of Solaris. I'd hate for the poor critical reception this new film has received to deter him from directing more and certainly acting more in the future.

He's been such a Hollywood Golden Boy for so long and so unabashedly proud of his liberalism, that when he stumbles like this there are far too many gleeful detractors, but I have always admired that he takes chances instead of just making films when he plays a new variation of Danny Ocean, where he can cash in. I'm also all for heady sci-fi, it's just this film's head isn't screwed on entirely straight.

Chadwick Boseman, Viola Davis are dynamite in 'Ma Rainey'

Chadwick Boseman was a special actor. It may not have been apparent to us until it was too late, but when he passed away this year it hit a lot of us like a ton of bricks. He was both a star and a terrific actor, someone who invested his roles with passion and physicality. 

Anytime there's a posthumous release from an actor there's a tendency to invest to much in them, but this year, ironically enough -- two of Boseman's best performances in Da 5 Bloods and now Ma Rainey's Black Bottom have been released to great acclaim, and I'm happy to say it's deserved.

He looks considerably frailer here than he did in Spike Lee's war film and he very well may have been struggling in his courageous fight against cancer when he shot this August Wilson adaptation. His real life challenges only add more vulnerability to Levee the character he plays here -- an ambitious but also damaged trumpet player who plays in the band of legendary blueswoman Ma Rainey in 1927.

The action -- much of it claustrophobic takes place in a rehearsal hall and recording studio -- where Rainey (played brilliantly by Davis in a performance unlike any she's ever given) and her band do verbal (and sometimes verbal) battle amid a chaotic session. Their dialogue is never just about the music -- like all of the great playwright's work its concerns grapple with the toll racism can take on everyday and exceptional lives.

The film's great flaw is that it never really rises above the sensation of being a photographed play, albeit a gorgeously photographed one. The two major exceptions are the raucous opening number and the darkly ironic final one -- a perfect ending to a film that's more complex than it first appears to be,

It's impossible not to compare this film to Fences, the last high profile Wilson adaptation, which also starred Davis is a much different type of role. That film did a better job, in my opinion, of creating a world outside the insular, talky narrative. Wilson's dialogue can be florid and dense, sensational on stage I'm sure but not a natural fit for film. 

Still, his work is like fillet mignon for talented actors -- and yet again, Davis makes a feast of it. 

Here she has totally physically transformed herself into the rough and gruff Ma Rainey -- with heavy eye make-up, a mouthful of gold teeth and raunchy disposition -- this is not the sort of kind almost recessive character we're used to seeing her play. And what a relief! Davis clearly has been itching to show more sides of her persona and this is a big powerful tour de force from her.

Her scenes opposite Boseman -- who is playing a competitor not just within the band but also for the affections of Ma Rainey's trophy girlfriend as well -- are electric, and stand as a testament to their unique power as performers.

And in the end its all so bittersweet because Boseman is gone and if nothing else this film demonstrates how much potential he had. He gives this movie his all -- perhaps he knew it would be his last -- and while the film itself is not quite a masterpiece (it feels perhaps too small scaled) it will always be a testament to its stars' talent and a reminder to never take them for granted again.

Zappa, Bee Gees both get overdue respect in respective docs

There are two very engrossing and expansive new docs on two very well known -- or so it would seem -- music acts The Bee Gees and Frank Zappa, that are definitely worth seeing.

Alex Winter, who is best known for playing Bill in the Bill & Ted movies takes on the challenging task of directing a film about Zappa (called simply, Zappa), one of the most prolific and hard to pigeonhole artists of all time. It's decidedly not a traditional documentary in the sense that it doesn't follow a strict chronology or walks us through his oeuvre album by album.

Instead the film's preoccupation is Zappa's complex musicianship and brutal work ethic rather than the full depth and breadth of his career, which can make it kind of a frustrating watch for the uninitiated or even the somewhat initiated. You get the sense that he was a deeply committed artist, to a fault, and a pretty closed off, even cold person -- but the music is unique and his unwillingness to compromise this vision is admirable.

Because Zappa is gone, the film has to rely a lot of the people who lived with him and played alongside him. The interviews are solid, but the footage of Zappa himself -- as irascible as he was -- is the highlight of the film. His crusade against record censorship, for instance, comes across quite well. 

I left the movie appreciating his music more, but wishing the film had more of a cohesive center (it feels very haphazard, which perhaps the point) and some emphasis on the joy  -- if there was any -- in his efforts, rather than all the many thinks that made him cantankerous. Frankly, Zappa comes off as a bit of pompous grump -- albeit an immensely talented one.

On the other hand, The Bee Gees: How Can You Bend a Broken Heart, is a much more emotionally accessible film. It has an aura of sadness about it, not just because two of members of the band (plus their younger brother Andy) have all died, leaving Barry Gibb as the lone voice from the family -- but because the band was unfairly viewed simply as a disco act, when their career was much longer and far more complicated.

You walk away from this film with not just an appreciation of their one of kind voices, but their songwriting artistry (they were behind Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers' hit "Islands in the Stream"). You recognize that they were far more respected by their peers than people realized. They're also far more likable and self aware than Zappa was.

This film does what the best musical biopics do -- it puts you at the center of their creativity, shows you how they developed their signature sound (the reveal of how "Staying Alive" was conceived is riveting) and effectively conveys the emotional feelings their music inspired.

I've become an enormous, almost obsessive fan in recent years -- they're one of those artists that you know all the hits but you may not have really paid close attention to the lyrics of talent of the Gibbs themselves. And, sadly, they became a victim of their own success.

The most telling moment comes during the infamous "Disco Sucks" debacle in 1979 during a White Sox game. An anti-disco DJ led a cruel event where disco records were to be destroyed, but the film reveals that most of records being destroyed that day were by black artists -- and the Bee Gees, while white, were very much viewed as validating that culture.

To their credit they take great pains to pay homage to the black artists who inspired them, and this movie should inspire you, to seek out more of their work.

'First Cow' is the kind of beautifully made fable I admire

 

First Cow is the kind of movie film critics adore. It's slow as molasses, it's decidedly unglamorous and its meticulous attention to period details (it's set in the nondescript 1820s) show that it was made with a great deal of care and consideration. 

I approached it begrudgingly -- it has made virtually every best of 2020 critics' list but I was worried I'd find it a bore. I am not fully up to speed on writer-director Kelly Reichardt's oeuvre. I saw her Michelle Williams film Wendy and Lucy and remembered finding it effective but also slight.

I am happy to saw that First Cow is a very beautiful piece of filmmaking, if not an endlessly entertaining one. It feels like a fable or a thoughtfully rendered short story and its disarming in its simplicity and its heart.

Part of what draws you into the story is its unconventional heroes. I can't remember the last time I saw a film with leading men this -- gentle. There are no macho Revenant-style heroics in this movie. Just a soft spoken, put-upon cook nicknamed Cookie (played by John Magaro, who resembles a less twitchy Shia LaBeouf) who befriends a Chinese immigrant on the run named King-Lu.

The two men through a set of random circumstances end up going into business with each other selling delicious biscuits that become a big hit in the local town marketplace. The only trouble is they're made with milk they've been stealing by a cow owned by Chief Factor, a wealthy Englishman.

That simple transgression, made out of necessity and ingenuity, winds up spelling the two heroes doom -- which is foreshadowed by a haunting opening that takes place in present. 

The rest of the film is mostly gorgeously photographed atmosphere with an obtrusive score. Dirty, well-worn faces captured against an unforgiving landscape. There is an unspoken, almost sexual tension between Cookie and King-Lu that's interesting. And the movie ends on a jarring, abrupt note that doesn't fully sink in until you reconsider the film's opening.

All in all, this is the kind of film I like to I really admire more than I enjoyed it. It's certainly a change of pace to have leads who are more reserved and recessive, but sometimes that can make a movie feel a little monotone.

There are certain no big performances or flashy moments in First Cow. It's a very quiet, contemplative movie which may or may not be your cup of tea.

Still, with the world outside cinemas full of bombast and quite frankly absurdism right now, there is something refreshing about a story preoccupied with themes like kindness and class.

It'll almost certainly not win any awards love next year if for no other reason because it did nothing commercially and is so aggressively indie arthouse that it will never get enough an audience to be in the conversation and it's not the kind of film I see myself watching over and over again.

But the craft and sensitivity of the filmmaking here is undeniable.

 

'Dick Johnson is Dead' is both heartwarming and heartbreaking

The covd-19 pandemic has forced a lot of us to reckon with death. And the reality of my parents aging has hit home more and more. So watching the Netflix documentary Dick Johnson is Dead was an emotional experience for me. The film is about trying learn how to accept the inevitability of death -- and yet it's sort of a light comedy except for when it isn't.

The film is directed by Johnson's daughter Kirsten, who serves as the narrator and as the ringmaster of an elaborate project. She hires stuntmen and stages elaborate (and very real looking) fake death scenes involving her dad, to sort of soften the blow of the very real decline of her father.

Dick Johnson, who appears to be an incredibly genial and gentle man, is suffering from dementia and has already had several close calls, and yet, he seems to be incredibly good natured and is a good sport about the project, committing to playing dead repeatedly.

Tragically, he and his daughter have already lived through the deterioration of his wife -- whose body and mind collapsed. Courageously, Kirsten has decided to document her father before he has taken an irreversible turn for the worst.

The result makes for a very sad movie that is punctuated with joyous fantasy sequences and adorable charm. In a way the film is like death itself -- it's never not upsetting but it can also be reflective and even a little regenerative.

The production values are good but the movie has a ramshackle, homemade quality which makes it feel deeply personal, but it's also pretty universal. 

We all have ebullient people in our lives like Dick Johnson, people we couldn't imagine ever losing and what this film does is remind you how fleeting moments with these can be (especially at the end) and the movie makes a literal and philosophical case for making the most of your time this person before it's too late.

I'll admit I had been sort of afraid to watch it, having been broadly familiar with the premise. But it's really rewarding viewing and a special film for this strange time we've living in.

It's poignant finale is unbelievably moving, gut wrenching even -- but it's never manipulative or self-indulgent. It's transcendent. 

'Mank' is a masterfully made but somewhat stagnant drama

Your patience with David Fincher's new biopic Mank will depend a lot on your interest in the history of classic Hollywood and the politics of pre-WWII America. Lucky for me, I have an interest in both but I am not sure the movie will be as engrossing to the broader audiences. 

Perhaps, the film's fatal flaw is that its titular hero -- legendary screenwriter Herman Mankiewicz -- isn't a particularly compelling or charismatic one. Gary Oldman is a great actor, even a legendary one but he's miscast here -- far too old and one note -- for me, at least. Michael Stuhlbarg would have been perfect for this. Although, Oldman is very good at playing soused. We are all meant to understand that Mankiewicz was a genius screenwriter, and for fans of Citizen Kane that's clear, but the film simply repeatedly reinforces two character traits: his alcoholism and withering sarcasm. 

Far more successful are the color characters who circle around him -- a note perfect Amanda Seyfried as Marion Davies (the trophy wife of William Randolph Hearst), as well as Arliss Howard as Louis B. Mayer (who has a great, barnstorming monologue about the studios' relationship with the movies) and Charles Dance as an imposing Hearst. Tom Burke pops up occasionally, doing a slightly better than average impression of Orson Welles, but this film is less interested with Kane's iconic director-star, which I suppose is a virtue. Mank presupposes, as many critics have over the years, that it was the film's screenwriter who was the real brains behind its influential narrative.

Director David Fincher's reverence for Kane is clear. Beyond little specific cinematic nods, the film itself is impeccably crafted. It has been shot, gloriously, in the style of a studio picture of the era is portrays, and its firecracker screenplay, poignantly written by Fincher's late father, really captures the rat-a-tat style of classic Hollywood.

This is why the movie leaves me a bit torn and cold. Fincher is one our greatest directors and he has been sorely missed from movies since his last foray, the blockbuster Gone Girl. He is a masterful technician and his meticulousness always makes his films hard to ignore. But emotion has never necessarily been his strong suit, which is perhaps why his best films are either about stunted people (The Social Network) or are dense in plot (Zodiac).

In Mank, Seyfried does the best job of connecting but she's in the film for fleeting moments that get overwhelmed by its detours into sidebars on left vs. right politics of the era and behind the scenes studio backstabbing.

The film is clearly a labor or love -- and is likely a shoo-in for the Best Cinematography Academy Award -- but it suffers from comparison to the movie its nominally about the making of. Citizen Kane brilliantly charts the rise and fall of an innocent who turns corrupt but Mank's lead character never evolves much. He start the film as a stumbling drunk malcontent and finishes it that way too.

It makes for a movie that is not exactly boring but hardly exhilarating.  Which is surprising from the director of such propulsive fare as Seven, The Game and The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.

Ultimately, Mank is not the masterpiece I was hoping for -- but I am happy to have David Fincher back.

'Freaky' is so much fun I only wish I'd seen it with an audience

Freaky is afflicted with the same annoying trait that a lot of nominal teen movies have -- its young characters are so arch, self consciously hip and overwritten that they aren't even a little bit relatable or recognizable as real people. 

It yet again casts an improbably attractive lead -- Kathryn Newton -- as a mousy outcast (she's a put-upon high school mascot to boot), even when she resembles the mean girls that bully her.

And yet, it is a fun watch in part because it is disarmingly grisly -- if you like that kind of thing -- and somewhat charmingly old school. It's not exactly scary, but it's entertaining in the way that Scream was. its secret weapon is a committed and spirited performance from Vince Vaughn, who has had one of the most mercurial movie star careers in recent memory.

He blew up on the scene with 1996's Swingers -- but then made a lot of poor career choices (like an ill-fated attempt to portray Norman Bates), before resurrecting his career as a straight comedy star with movies like Old School and Wedding Crashers. But then he fell out favor again -- with his right wing politics not doing him any favors. That was until director S. Craig Zahler teamed up with him for Brawl in Cell Block 99, in which he was a revelation in a badass dramatic role unlike any he's played before. 

In Freaky he's the adult in a horror spin on the Freaky Friday franchise, but instead of being a stuffy adult in need of loosening up he's a bloodthirsty serial killer. The switch happens early in the movie, so we don't get much time to establish his character but the movie really comes alive once the switch happens. Newton does a solid job channeling a creep and Vaughn is instantly a riot as a somewhat stereotypical teenage girl.

I haven't seen the director Christopher Landon's Happy Death Day movies (they looked a little smug to me), which appear to have taken on the gimmick of turning another beloved comedy, Groundhog Day, into a horror film, but this material feels more fertile and fun. It's so stupid and silly that it becomes quite fun. The film make's great use (as Brawl did) of Vaughn's massive build and his crack comic timing.

It's all really crowd-pleasing stuff -- with some fun nods to the gender dynamics and some decent stabs at pathos. Although it does have its fair share of plot holes and cringe-y moments.

Still, it also moves like a bullet -- with a bright color palette that is uncharacteristic for the genre. It plays well on TV, but would have been a blast to watch with a big raucous audience, which is why the news that broke today that Warner Brothers is taking their entire 2021 slate to streaming is so disheartening. Freaky has gotten some good reviews and buzz, but I have a hard time believing it will get the same audience it would had it played like a normal release in the pre-covd times.

My only hope it finds an audience somewhere, sometime -- because it deserves it.

Steve McQueen's 'Small Axe' film series is a revelation

Mangrove, the first of what will be five films by director Steve McQueen about the black experience in the United Kingdom, is sort of like the anti-Trial of the Chicago 7. It's devoid of manufactured emotional moments and speechifying, there is a real suspense in its courtroom scenes and it's less clumsy about drawing parallels between its late '60s setting and modern day conflicts.

The film is about a chapter in UK history that I, and I suspect most American viewers, knew nothing about -- the case of the Mangrove 9 -- which wound up being a watershed in that country's own civil rights movement, which is not as well known or venerated as our own.

It starts simply enough -- Frank Critchlow (played sensationally by Shaun Parkes) is a popular local restauranteur whose local spot The Mangrove has become more than just a West Indian dining establishment. It becomes a beloved meeting place for the local black community -- to sing and dance, to talk politics, to revel in their own traditions.

Its very existence ticks off a bigoted local policeman, who, if the film is to be believed, almost singlehandedly leads a campaign of harassment of the establishment which ultimately boils over in a protest that is itself violently attacked by the police.

Critchlow, as well as activists like Altheia Jones-LeCointe (a moving and magnificent Letitia Wright), are unjustly hauled off to jail and later court with a tremendous amount of institution opposition against them. Some of the nine defendants take the extraordinary risk of defending themselves in court and this leads to some real fireworks that I won't spoil here.

McQueen has been one of the most consistent and also surprising major directors of the moment. His last feature, Widows, was an unexpected detour into genre filmmaking that was both exciting and exacting. It's one of the most underrated films of the last few years and I was very curious to see what he was going to do next.

Small Axe -- which is a series of five films that will stream on Amazon -- is the most ambitious thing he has ever done. It's billed as television, but the production values and craftsmanship are more than worthy of the big screen. Mangrove is the first and it really makes a powerful statement. Surprisingly, the second entry -- the shorter and more atmospheric Lover's Rock -- is somehow even better.

It takes place mostly during an extended, raucous house party and is aided tremendously by an irresistible soundtrack of mid-to-late '70s reggae and disco jams that will make you want to get up on your feet. It's incredibly immersive -- you will feel like an attendee -- and it also feels like a lost documentary of the era, since the action and acting is so naturalistic and authentic.

And, at a time in covd, you will sorely miss the freedom of an old fashioned dance party.

At its center is a tentative romance that occurs organically between Michael Ward and Amarah-Jae St. Aubyn, two incredibly charismatic young actors who both have tremendous star potential. The movie itself runs just a little over an hour and is almost like a Terrence Malick mood piece.

Every so often this safe harbor for black joy is punctured -- by the threat of violence or white oppression -- but it proves mostly resilient, and this film, which may seem insubstantial on its surface, has a delayed sort of power. It plays beautiful as a companion piece to Mangrove, which is a heavier work, and taken as a whole it points to a director working on another level than many of his peers

I can't wait to watch the totality of his vision -- which has been both edifying and entertaining during a particularly dreary moment in this country.

'Crystal Lake Memories' mythologizes 'Friday the 13th' franchise

The Friday the 13th franchise is decidedly and unabashedly lowbrow. Its main appeal are its creatively grisly kills, which may or may not be your cup of tea. A couple of the films stand a cut above the others, but they are largely all the same, which I suspect is what people like about them. They're not as fantastical and funny as the Nightmare on Elm Street movies or as atmospheric and moody as the Halloween films. They're real mean and potatoes.

Still, the epically long documentary -- Crystal Lake Memories -- seeks to elevate the series is our esteem. It's essentially copying the model of the incredibly watchable Never Sleep Again, which itself was a multi-hour trip down memory lane through all the Freddy Krueger movies.

Crystal Lake Memories isn't quite as engrossing because the movies its documenting aren't -- and yet it is still an entertaining enough watch (especially during these dog days of covd) and the experience of watching it got me thinking: what other prolific film franchises would I like to see get this same treatment.

Sure, these documentaries are arguably one long extended DVD feature, but who cares. When you're an obsessive film fan like I am you want all those little tidbits about scripting, casting, special effects et al. And what these docs do, which is fun, is really get the perspective of bit players and production people, so you really get a full sense of what making these movies was really like.

There are plenty of series that have been overly, exhaustively documented -- like Star Wars -- and maybe some of franchises I'm about the mention may have and I just missed it. But I'd happily devote 6 hours or more to.

Star Trek - I am by no means a Trekkie. I've seen a fair amount of the original TV series, but I mostly became familiar with it through the movies, especially the ones featuring William Shatner and Leonard Nimoy. The series is infamously uneven, but I think that would only make a documentary about their evolution that much more interesting. I think you can even stretch this into the Next Generation movies, as well as the J.J. Abrams era too.

Mission: Impossible - What started as a big budget (and wildly successful) big screen adaptation of a beloved TV series has evolved into something more over the course of six films. Each subsequent film has dramatically upped the ante in terms of the stunts that star Tom Cruise is really doing himself and I'd be fascinated to know about the behind the scenes machinations of putting these sequences together but also the arc of the franchise in general.

James Bond - This would be hard to do -- since we're talking 20+ movies here -- but there is no film franchise more durable and adaptable to its times than 007. Sadly, we've lose two of the most iconic Bonds in recent years -- Sean Connery and Roger Moore -- but there is plenty of archive footage and surviving players that can help fill in the gaps. The recent blu ray editions of the series actually have some fantastic mini docs covering the films from Dr. No through License to Kill which could serve as a blueprint.

Mad Max - Sure it's only four movies -- but each has such a strong, distinct flavor, have been hugely influential and could sustain a documentary of their own. George Miller is hard at work on his Furiosa prequel, but I'd love to hear him hold court on just how he developed this thoroughly unique cinematic world and conceived of the larger-than-life car, jeep and trunk stunts that are the franchise's trademarks. Especially, when it comes to Fury Road, which has been widely hailed as one of the last decade's best films.

Rocky - I've made no secret about my adoration for this series, which improbably became relevant again after 2006's Rocky Balboa and especially after Creed and Creed II. Naturally, this is Sylvester Stallone's greatest cinematic accomplishment, but it's really not his triumph alone and there's not just the films but the inspiration they delivered to so many fans, including Creed director Ryan Coogler, who got into the franchise because of his late father's appreciation for the criminally underrated Rocky II.

Halloween - I mentioned this one earlier and this is the likeliest candidate, since its already been done with Nightmare and Friday the 13th. The Halloween films are actually my favorite of all these horror movie franchises because I think they are cinematically more sound, the acting is generally a notch above (thanks to committed work from Jamie Lee Curtis and Donald Pleasance) and the series took some interesting detours (like the Michael Myers-less Halloween III) before rebooting yet again by David Gordon Green and Danny McBride with 2018's Halloween.

'Belushi' brings home the tragedy of the SNL star's premature death

The new Showtime documentary Belushi doesn't necessarily shed too much new light on the late SNL and Animal House star's brief but incredibly popular career. If you're familiar with his story, the movie hits many of the major landmarks -- his breakout stardom on Saturday Night Live, his uneven film career and descent into deadly drug addiction -- but that doesn't make it any less enjoyable or profoundly sad.

The film employs a refreshing technique, it uses only audio (recorded by author Tanner Colby for a biography of Belushi published years ago). And it's compelling to hear the voice of say the late Harold Ramis rather than the traditional talking head. The anecdotes feel more candid and more emotional.

And the biggest takeaway from Belushi is that the combustible comedian could be a very introspective softie. There are numerous excerpts from unguarded love letters to his with Judith (voiced beautifully by Bill Hader) which show him alternately riding the highs of fame, crying for help and expressing a deep desire for the kind of love and affection his parents apparently deprived him of.

The film doesn't treat Belushi as a blameless innocent, and the movie doesn't shy away from his penchant for misogyny and self pity -- but it also does a terrific job of highlighting his intelligence, his charm and his remarkable comedic talent.

The footage will be familiar to any Belushi fan, but that doesn't make it any less enjoyable to revisit. There are many comics who have captured elements of his signature style in his wake -- Chris Farley and even his brother Jim Belushi have probably borrowed from him the most -- but he really did have a singular presence that can't be replicated.

Like so many people I became aware of Belushi through his two hit movies National Lampoon's Animal House and The Blues Brothers, and later his incredible run during the first few seasons of SNL (where he was initially overshadowed by Chevy Chase). But the great tragedy of his life -- after of course his untimely death -- was that he never got to fully explore the depths of his talent.

He was being pigeonholed as a certain type of comic who starts in a certain type of movie (one anecdote towards the end of the film is that a studio wanted him to appear in a diaper in an upcoming comedy) and therefore was something of a victim of his own success.

Only in 1981's little seen Continental Divide did he ever get to play anything close to resembling a real person and it's clear he desperately wanted to be taken seriously as an actor.  Most ex-SNL actors struggle to make this transition, with Bill Murray probably being the biggest exception to the rule and he of course has had over 40 years now of big screen acting roles to craft a nuanced popular persona.

For better or worse, Belushi is frozen in time -- at just 33 years old (although his hard living made him look much older) -- as a wunderkind comedy dynamo who made America laugh and cry in such a short span of time (roughly 1975 to 1982). 

I'm not quite sure why this is the moment filmmakers decided to revisit this material. There are no new revelations here or a totally new take on his career (like Listen to Me Marlon, which suggested that the late method actor was far more respectful of his profession than he liked to let on). It is however a great introduction for people unfamiliar with his talent and a sad reminder of what we lost for those of us who grew up idolizing him.

'The Reagans' is tough but fair on the right wing icons

It's become too glib to compare Ronald Reagan and Donald Trump, but then the coincidences are unavoidable. Both burnished their political voice as TV personalities. Both were serial exaggerators and believers in the power of positive thinking. Both were masters at creating their own versions of reality and then converting millions to their worldview.

That said, Trump will gratefully be a one term (and hopefully only a one term) president and he doesn't have an ounce of the charisma Reagan had. And Reagan remains a figure of historic consequence for better or worse. Trump will too, but how much he permanently effected the landscape will have a lot to do with how much of his presidency Biden can undo.

We are now 40 years removed from Reagan's first presidential victory and we are still seeing him hyped relentlessly. Even though, Trump has stopped comparing himself to the Gipper, reaching back for Lincoln instead, as if Reagan being only recently deceased is more of a threat to his ego. So perhaps the star is fading a bit. Surely, the time is right to remove a little bit of the phony luster around him, which Showtime's terrific new documentary The Reagans aims to do.

It is as much about Nancy Reagan as it is Ronald -- and how much you enjoy it may depend on how you feel about the filmmakers casting the first lady as a bit of the arch villain of the piece. But if you're like me, you might think 'if the shoe fits.'

The Reagans does dissect both her and the former president's personalities, but it also brilliantly, profiles the sometimes shadowy forces and organizations that ushered them into power and who they in term owed fealty to. It wisely places race at the center of this narrative, where it belongs, since Reaganism is the zenith of coded racialized politics. Trump went even further and brought back old school 'it's not even a dog whistle' racism, but Reagan was the master of saying it without saying it -- and he was rewarded greatly with two landslide presidential victories which serve to overstate his popularity while in office.

The footage is so damning and the talking heads (which include Reagan allies too) so compelling that even the most ardent Reagan defenders would have a hard time defending some of this. Here is a bright, ambitious man but not a deep, introspective one,

This is a man who was a Democrat until he saw more profit in becoming a Republican and he spent the rest of his life exaggerating an imagined threat coming from left while peddling a phony idealized version or America for his fans on the right. There is no denying that Reagan's 'we're the best' ethos is an attractive, appealing one. And Reagan was an effortlessly likable guy. But that doesn't mean he wasn't wrong or also a monster.

I'm only two episodes into Showtime's daring new limited series, but they are already doing a deft job of both. They don't pussyfoot around the dirty side of Reagan's politics, while also heralding his tenacity and drive. You can see why he was such a star -- his aw shucks persona is refreshingly adorable. But it's time to be cynical about Reagan and Reaganism again, since we are now so much more aware of the collateral damage (the spread of AIDs, wealth inequality, the prison industrial complex, just to name a few). It might have been too taboo to take on even a decade ago, but now this feels like a chapter in our history that we really ought to examine now, because a more Reagan-like version of Trump may be on the way and that scares me.

Needless to say, I consider this essential viewing.

Dueling Friedkin docs make a strong case for director's legacy

William Friedkin, or 'Billy' as he is most commonly known, has always occupied a unique space in the pantheon of great '70s directors. His two biggest critical and commercial hits The French Connection, and especially The Exorcist, are what cemented his reputation, even though his best film might just be the 1977 thriller Sorcerer.

He made several other very solid to great films -- his To Live and Die in LA is riveting, his controversial Cruising is excellent in its own way, I even like his much maligned comedy Deal of the Century, it's more of a dry satire than a laugh out loud romp, but that doesn't necessarily diminish it in my mind.

He is a blunt spoken, irascible type and the makers of Friedkin Uncut wisely give him plenty of room to wax rhapsodic. It is not like Noah Baumbach's De Palma, which was simply the singular voice of its subject, Friedkin Uncut features the director's contemporaries, collaborators and fanboys -- and that makes it feel a little more conventional.

Sometimes, when it comes to actors like Gina Gershon, it seems to confirm Friedkin's reputation as a bit of an abusive jerk. Some others, like Matthew McConaughey, does a very effective job of defending the director's preference for trying to get a scene in one take.

It does it job -- it makes you want to revisit his work in a new light -- but you almost wish the film has taken a more definitive stylistic approach or a least more of a clear thruline. Ironically enough, there's another new Friedkin documentary, focused entirely on the making of The Exorcist, called Leap of Faith -- that does many of the same things this doc does but a little better.

By dwelling entirely on one movie -- Friedkin's most famous -- it makes many of the same points (and cribs some of the same anecdotes -- like how Jason Miller stole the role of Father Karras from beneath Stacey Keach), but it has a more compelling thesis statement.

Friedkin Uncut unfortunately doesn't work his way through the director's filmography or give yourself a sense of his evolution as a filmmaker. Instead it jumps around, spending too much time on some films, and not enough time on others.

When it finally gets around to Sorcerer -- which as I said earlier, might just be Friedkin's masterpiece. It's compulsively re-watchable, visually stunning and consistently underrated -- I was worried the movie wasn't going to get covered at all. And part of understanding that movie's initial perception as a failure has as much to do with when he made it as anything, on the heels of The Exorcist. Even the movie's title was a silly attempt to link it to its predecessor in Friedkin's oeuvre. 

Coppola does brilliantly sum up his and Friedkin's and arguably the rest of the so-called film brat generation's ethos when he says, "when you wanted to show something extraordinary you had to something extraordinary"

Gems like those make that doc great, while Leap of Faith makes a movie we thought we'd heard everything about somehow feel very fresh and relevant. Instead of interrogating the movie's themes of good and evil in a sort of a campy, exploitative way, it takes them seriously and artistically.

It's a somber film -- Friedkin is a great storyteller but his delivering can grow numbing.  But it certainly enshrines The Exorcist as the truly great film it was. Sometimes I think because it was a hit and a genre film people try to downplay its power. But it's a bonafide masterpiece.

I completely disagree with the film's contention (voiced aggressively by Quentin Tarantino) that Roy Scheider was ill-suited for the lead role in Sorcerer. Sure it would have been a different, bigger movie had it starred Friedkin's original choice Steve McQueen. But Scheider is no slouch. It was just the right film at the wrong time ... it opened opposite Star Wars.

And even though it 'failed,' Friedkin had final cut -- and so the finished film is still his singular vision.

The two docs about his life -- not quite -- but they are required viewing if you, like me, think Friedkin is consistently underrated. 

'Black Panther II' formally announced, backlash already ensues

The unprecedented success of Black Panther -- a nearly all-black, politically-charge and Oscar nominated phenomenon -- all but guaranteed there would be a sequel. And Marvel wisely had already re-enlisted the talented writer-director Ryan Coogler to continue exploring the big screen world he helped create.

Everything seemed to be going according to plan (with the disruption of covd, of course) until Black Panther star Chadwick Boseman died after a long concealed battle with caner. Even before he died, Boseman's performance in the leading role was legendary and iconic, but now with his untimely passing, he has come to represent even more.

Almost immediately after his death there was speculation about the future of Boseman's most famous role. Fans feared that the T'Challa character would be clumsily resurrected using technology (Marvel has reportedly already ruled this ghastly idea out) or that he would be re-cast.

I had hoped Coogler and company would take a more ambitious approach. Instead of recasting T'Challa, I would establish the character's death -- which would give a new movie stakes and emotional heft. And, his charismatic and resourceful sister Shuri (played by Letitia Wright) would stand up to take his place.

I understand that a similar narrative played out in the Black Panther comic books albeit not because of T'Challa's death. But there is no cutting around this tragedy and I think the sequel would be stronger if it addressed it head on instead of pretending the character is just taking time off (like how the Fast & Furious movies have handled Paul Walker) or attempting some kind of Frankenstein effect (like they did with Carrie Fisher in The Rise of Skywalker).

Coogler is definitely not in an enviable position. In many ways he will have to abandon a narrative that he likely intended to follow through with. And the possessiveness that so many people for the character and Chadwick Boseman's portrayal are formidable. There will be some fans who just can't or won't be pleased with whatever choice is made.

I, however, am heartened that there is already talk about Letitia Wright having a 'larger' role, although there have been few specifics released, as is the norm with these kinds of big event movies.

Wright is a great actress, who nearly stole the first film, and it's high time Marvel had a feature film with a woman of color at its center, but clearly this already heavily hyped and anticipated film will have its work cut out for it. 

There is still no clear end in sight to the closure of most cinemas around the country -- and Wonder Woman 1984, which has hoped to debut wide this year, will now be released simultaneously on HBO's streaming platform as well as the few theaters that are still open.

Black Panther II, which aims to being shooting next summer. presumably with strict covd-19 protocols in place, and it will be expected to be one of the films that can keep the moviegoing experience alive. I'm rooting for it to be great or at least just as good as the original.

Happy birthday Martin Scorsese! My fave director's top 10

Legendary director Martin Scorsese turned 78 yesterday -- and if you think that's old, don't forget that that's the age the next president will be when he's sworn in. I've made no secret out of the fact that he's my favorite filmmaker of all time. He's only made a few movies I didn't love -- New York New York, Kundun and Bringing Out the Dead and another I should probably revisit -- Silence -- but for the most part, he can do no wrong with me.

It's incredibly hard for me to pick favorites -- although I have a few -- and so I decided to be cutthroat and to come up with my top 10 list -- at least at the moment I'm writing this. These aren't necessarily his best films -- for instance, The Last Temptation of Christ is a very accomplished and challenging work that I really admire, but it's not a movie I would call a favorite.

These are the Scorsese 'pictures' that I am the most fond of and they demonstrate his formidable talent and unique worldview. Even though he often makes films about terrible men who do terrible things, he's at heart a humanist, and it's that dichotomy that makes his movies special and stand the test of time. 

Ok, but no more throat clearing, here we go.

10) The Wolf of Wall Street - My 10 spot was hotly contested, and this one was very close. I could definitely put The Age of Innocence here or Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore or Mean Streets, but I find this film more entertaining and audacious than any of those movies. It's clearly his most divisive film, with many critics feeling like it did too good a job of romanticizing the trash people it documents. Agree to disagree. This vibrant and vulgar movie is an indictment of the Trumpism before Trumpism even took hold, and it features perhaps the loosest and therefore the most enjoyable of all of his collaborations with Leonardo DiCaprio. 

9) After Hours - A funky love letter to grimy '80s New York, this dark comedy is often the most unsung and overlooked film in Scorsese's oeuvre, but it's long been one of my favorites. A series of wacky vignettes that take place during one incredibly long, unlucky night for a schlub (played to perfection by Griffin Dunne) who just wanted to get laid. The 80s were an interesting, experimental time for Scorsese (see The Color of Money for his flamboyant style at the time) and this film demonstrates that he could do accessible funny movies if he wanted to.

8) Casino - A sprawling epic, teeming with information and bursting at the seams with a trio of great performances from Joe Pesci, Sharon Stone and a bit against type Robert De Niro as something of an uptight nerd. It's usually unfairly compared to GoodFellas, which is undeniably more of a crowd pleaser, but this film is also a rich tapestry and a bit of a history lesson of Las Vegas too. It's also, like so many of Scorsese's film, insanely funny -- despite featuring some of the most brutal violence of the filmmaker's career.

7) The Departed - A wildly popular hit and probably the most mainstream genre film Scorsese ever made - and that is a good thing. It gets dinged a bit for a cutesy ending and for winning him the Oscar instead of one of his more superior film, but c'mon, cop thrillers don't get much better than this. He has an incredibly stacked cast, with scene stealing turns from Mark Wahlberg (who earned a totally deserved nomination for his work here) and a batshit Jack Nicholson in what turned out to be his last great screen role. A whole mess of bloody fun.

6) The Irishman - It should be Scorsese's final word on the genre that made him famous -- the gangster film. Another sprawling epic -- exploring the corruption and charisma of Jimmy Hoffa (a wonderful Al Pacino) and the toll that a life of crime can take. So many rich details and performances (aided by fantastic de-aging technology). A surprisingly heartbreaking film that does the opposite of glamorizing the violent life. It's simply nothing short of a masterpiece and its totally earns it's infamously long running time.

5) Raging Bull - An exceptionally crafted film about a pathologically reprehensible person that somehow has a ton of heart and humanity. De Niro gives one of his all time great performances at the titular bull, boxer Jake La Motta whose obsessive, self destructive personality leads to his inevitable undoing. This is a film that has really grown on me over time. It's not quite a biopic or a sports movie, it's ultimately a commentary on fame, drive and hubris. Another masterpiece.

4) The King of Comedy - Probably more than any other movie he ever made, this one has really grown in stature, since it predicts a kind of obnoxious reality TV type unearned fame that has come to dominate American society. De Niro's performance as the clueless Rupert Pumpkin is a revelation, as is Sandra Bernhard as his sidekick. They play hopeless losers who believe they should be somebody, which is a phenomenon as American as apple pie. Jerry Lewis is used very effectively as their foil. A really fantastic film that deserves a bigger audience.

3) GoodFellas - This is one of those just unassailable perfect movies that everyone loves. It's hard to quibble with its power. It is simply (aside from The Godfather) the most appealing film ever made about the thrill or being a gangster. People sometimes overlook its bleak ending and revel in the high of the characters' rise, but isn't the movie's fault. One of the most quotable movies ever made, with the definitive Joe Pesci performance and some of the most virtuoso work of Scorsese's career.

2) Cape Fear - Scorsese's greatest attempt at pure pop entertainment, but that doesn't mean the movie doesn't have sophistication alongside its thrills. De Niro delivers one of his wildest characterizations and Nick Nolte is the perfect subversion of the classic leading man hero in this battle of wits between an attorney and a depraved client he once railroaded. Stylish and vivid -- this is one of those movies I am never bored by and can always get sucked into at the drop of a hat.

1) Taxi Driver - One of my favorite movies of all time. A perfect mix of top notch performances, vivid storytelling and arresting visuals. An undeniably disturbing film, that will and should remain relevant for years considering its takes on racial grievance and toxic masculinity. It's always been a film I return to and I always find new rich layers upon each viewing. It's pulpy to be sure but there's also a sadness to the proceedings. I think its the fullest expression of Scorsese's genius.

Revisiting 'Tanner '88': What has and hasn't changed in our politics

One of director Robert Altman's most ambitious projects was an elaborate television mini series called Tanner '88 about a fictional candidate for president (played by Altman regular Michael Murphy) competing in the 1988 Democratic primary. 

The film tossed Murphy into actual locations alongside real candidates, and even inserted him into footage of debates. What he wound up with was part documentary -- capturing a hard fought nomination fight that came down (improbably) to Michael Dukakis and Rev. Jesse Jackson. -- part satire of how increasingly commodified politics had become.

Of course, on some level that's quaint. Campaigns have only gotten longer and more sickeningly corrupted by money. The parties have also dramatically evolved. Republicans have gotten more conservative, and although some would argue to the contrary, Democrats have gotten more liberal.

For instance, in '88 Jackson's campaign was considered radical because he supported issues like a national health care program and gay rights -- now this is an established part of Democratic orthodoxy.

It also came out at a time when television advertising had arguably never been more powerful. To this day, experts on both sides of the aisle believe a racist ad blaming Dukakis for the crimes of a furloughed black convict (named Willie Horton) played a significant role in swinging the election to George H.W. Bush and the Republicans.

Today, Democrats have outspent Republicans in the last two elections and they narrowly lost won and not so narrowly won another -- and few people think TV ads made the difference.

The Tanner character is a former '60s activist turned center left Democrat -- think a less sleazy Bill Clinton -- but that generation and style of politics has eroded. Barring some bizarre comeback in 2024, Joe Biden will almost certainly be the last person from his generation to ascend to the White House. Finally, there will be no more debates about who did and didn't serve in Vietnam.

But of course, there are things that have never changed. The circus like atmosphere around these campaigns overwhelms voters -- the actual motivations and policy positions of the candidates of often get completely buried.

I am always stunned every four years how many people say they "don't know" where either major party candidate stands on the issues. It's historically a popularity contest and one could even argue that after 2020, it's become an amateur punditry contest.

For all his strong points, Joe Biden was not chosen because he was the best person or the best candidate. He was chosen because Democratic voters (perhaps rightly) determined that he had the right elements to defeat Donald Trump, and his actual positions.

And the party loyalty has become so tribal, that it's almost as if it doesn't matter since so many people have culturally aligned themselves with one side of the other. Millions of people voted for Donald Trump not because the liked him (his approval never hit 50% once his entire time in office) but because he had an R next to his name.

In real life and in the world of Tanner '88 there was a sense that that campaign and eventually the general election represented a low point in American politics -- but we have only sunk lower in the decades since. 

Misinformation has been a dramatic, toxic force in our politics. Thanks to the Supreme Court's Citizens United decision, money in politics has gotten even more obscene. And we are literally in the midst of an attempted coup -- where the losing candidate is refusing to concede, claiming the 'media' has decided the race (even when they were declared president-elect in the exact same fashion) and actively trying to convince state legislatures to ignore the will of the people.

It's frightening, it's a new low. and would have been inconceivable to Robert Altman and co. over 30 years ago. 

It might be impossible to replicate what Altman did -- primary politics are so massive and unwieldy now, I doubt any director would get the access he did. So for now I will periodically revisit this amazing piece of work as the wonderful time capsule it is.

'Borat' sequel is a lot more fun post-election

I enjoyed the new Borat film (a.k.a. Subsequent Moviefilm) but was definitely anxious watching it the firs time around. It arrived, provocatively, in the waning days of Election 2020 when it seemed like anything could have an impact on the results. The film did provide a lot of fodder for Giuliani haters, as it unmistakably features the disgraced former NYC readying himself for what he thinks is going to be a sexual encounter with a reporter.

But, had Trump won, I was fully prepared for the film to be cited as yet another source of backlash -- liberal Hollywood offending Trump's base and inspiring them to turnout. It would have been silly, but in this world where everyone is a pundit and Trump's resilience does sometimes feel inexplicable, there would inevitably be a lot of finger pointing should he had won a second term.

Turns out there's a lot of finger pointing anyway -- although I think even cynical Democrats are starting to allow themselves to feel real joy about Biden's win now that the international community and at least SOME figures in the GOP establishment (not to mention Fox News!) is acknowledging the reality that he clearly has won this race.

After celebrating the results this weekend, I myself suddenly felt the urge to revisit this buzzy film. It reminded me of the first time I saw Zoolander in college. I scoffed at some of the lowbrow humor, largely dismissed the film, only to find myself quoting it and recounting scenes from it long after.

Like most sequels, Borat: Subsequent Moviefilm doesn't quite reach the heights of its predecessor, but it is not without its charms. It's a sneakily sentimental film and its ace in the hole is newcomer Maria Bakalova as Borat's daughter. There is some longshot speculation that she could be consider for a Best Supporting Actress Oscar (a rarity for a comedy performance) for her committed performance here and I am totally here for it. She's both funny, luminous, touching and triumphant in this movie and its speaks volumes about Sacha Baron Cohen's character that he appears all too happy to cede the spotlight to her.

Is the film's plot threadbare -- sure -- and the attempts to string stunts and a narrative together are at times forced and clumsy, but this is one of those movies where some of the jokes you may have missed or not fully appreciated the first time around (many of them are subtitled) can be fully enjoyed on the second viewing.

This by no means takes the sting away from some of the film's darker passages, such as: A crowd of far right protesters cheering the notion of slaughtering journalists or some Q'anon enthusiasts suggesting with a straight face that Hillary Clinton consumes children's blood for energy.

"It's been said," one of them says in defense of this madness.

Still, there's something so cathartic about being able to laugh at these people on some level without the terror that they could potential control the levers of power for four more years. It is not an exaggeration to say that an unhinged, re-elected Trump almost certainly pursue his long-stated goal to censor any media that displeases him, and without any guardrails -- why wouldn't he.

We came this close to a dictatorship in this country. Perhaps it will take time for a lot of Americans to fully recognize that, although Trump's both utterly predictable and yet still horrifying decision to make delegitimizing his election defeat the cause of his remaining days in office should illustrate just how much contempt he has always had for democracy.

And yet, the charming, subversive finale to the film suggests a day when we might able to look back on this period and laugh, or at least feel a sense of relief.

If Netflix buys Bond the movies may never come back

I've written about this many times before -- besides actual physical contact with people, there's nothing I miss more than going to the movies. I made one sojourn out to do it during covd -- to see Christopher Nolan's Tenet at a theater in Jersey City -- but for the most part movie theaters across America are dead and dying and while it's far from anyone's priority at a time when the virus is spreading even more than it was six months ago, it would be a tremendous blow to American culture to lose this institution.

The latest sign that traditional movie theaters are in real peril is the efforts on Netflix's part to buy the rights to the highly anticipated new James Bond movie No Time to Die. The movie was first scheduled to be released in April, then because of covd it got pushed to November, and right now it's in limbo -- looking at April of 2021 (insanely a full year after its initial release date) and that may still be wishful thinking since despite all of Trump's promises, there's no vaccine in sight.

So here we are. The producers of the Bond film have likely already blown a fortune (on already costly release) launching two different advertising campaigns that had to be rolled back when it became obvious that theaters could re-open nationwide. Rumor has it Netflix has been willing to pony up as much as $600 million to acquire the rights to distribute the movie now on their streaming platform.

It makes perfect sense that Netflix would want the buy the new Bond. It's a huge marquee movie -- one of the most anticipated of the year -- the kind of movie that might draw in non subscribers or people who just don't normally spend a lot of time on Netflix to seek it out. And I'm not anti-Netflix mind you, they have made some incredible movies in the past couple years (The Irishman, for instance) and been able to get more eyes on some than they might have in theaters (Da 5 Bloods, for instance).

But No Time to Die is different -- it's the kind of movie that is meant to be enjoyed by as many people as possible in as many theaters as possible. The irony is that were the movie to be release internationally it would probably enjoy something akin to a traditional release. Tenet for instance has been horribly hamstrung here in the U.S., but it's a sizable hit around the world, where covd hasn't been wiped out but is clearly better under control than it here.

The Bond producers clearly would prefer a traditional release -- this film is an event, it's Daniel Craig's last go round as 007 and it's the first film in the series in what will wind up being 6 years, the longest gap between films since the gap between the Dalton and Brosnan eras from 1989 to 1995. And yet, the movie can't sit on the shelf forever.

BTW - as I wrote this news broke the Joe Biden and Kamala Harris won WOOOHOOO OMG YASSSS GOOD LORD THANK YOU THANK U YESSSSS!!!!

I personally can't wait to see this movie -- so I'm a little torn -- but I desperately want to see it as it was intended on the big screen, preferably with an audience that I can enjoy it with. In a way if the producers of this film cave in to Netflix it might mean the death knell of the theater chains around this country that rely on big releases like this one to stay afloat.

There is no easy or obvious answer to this problem. I am just watching and hoping that the Bond folks hold out just a little bit longer.

'Totally Under Control' is essential viewing prior to Election Day

Totally Under Control, documentarian Alex Gibney's sober and detailed recounting of the spread of the coronavirus and how horribly the Trump administration bungled it should stand as a stunning time capsule, regardless of what happens on Election Day. The film isn't hyper partisan, it's simply hyper factual and the facts are inescapable.

The most chilling aspect of this film is that it makes plan what Joe Biden and so many others have said about the coronavirus outbreak: that it didn't have to be this way.

Had the president taken the threat seriously, had there been a political will to stop a crisis before it started -- there is every reason to believe that the coronavirus outbreak never had to be a soul crushing event that has upended Americans lives for nearly a year now.

But instead you see Trump, in a horrendously inexcusable moment, telling the American public that the number of cases would soon be "down to zero." 

It should be obvious to anyone who followed the news during those early weeks that the stock market and appearances were all that the Trump administration was concerned with at the time -- but for anyone who's skeptical or who may not know the timeline and the players, Gibney's film is a smart, methodical and most importantly accessible piece of storytelling.

Quite frankly, no one who sees this film can walk away putting a positive spin on what has taken place here in the U.S. -- Trump and his allies are keen to point out to virus spikes abroad, but the efficient containment of covd-19 in South Korea stands as a stunning rebuke to that. This isn't a single person or organization's failure to be sure -- but no one has had more of a direct negative impact on this crisis than Donald Trump, from his denials or reality, to his spreading of misinformation and ultimately his unwillingness to take responsibility has undeniably led to the deaths of thousands of people.

It's enraging to watch Trump in February crow about how the virus was the Democrats' 'new hoax' in an effort to stop his re-election (naturally, he makes it about himself) and dumbfounding to think that someone could be so consistently wrong and callous about the biggest crisis featuring this country in the short term -- and will somehow be rewarded by millions of voters for it.

There are stunning details that have been reported on before but perhaps not fully illuminated -- like the completely haphazard and amateurish task force led by Jared Kushner to procure PPE for states -- and there are terrific, righteously indignant interviews with the medical professionals who were railroaded or ignored throughout this process.

It's hard to understate how important a movie like this can be. I am someone who follows the headlines assiduously and even I had forgotten Trump's disorganized travel ban -- which left thousands of Americans stranded or when Kushner ignorantly claiming the federal stockpile is 'ours' and not the public's. 

Every misstep cost lives and while it's inevitable that with a problem this big there would inevitably be mistakes (Gibney's film acknowledges errors made by previous administrations during virus outbreaks, too) there are fundamental, philosophical flaws in this particular administration's approach: they simply did not making saving lives the priority.

Case in point: the White House's stubborn insistence on hyping hydroxychloroquine as a cure-all for the virus despite all the evidence to the contrary. Time was wasted, more lives lost and none this appears to have permeated the consciousness of the president.

Should he be re-elected tomorrow or sometime this week -- it will not just be a tragedy for people of color, for Muslims, for people who believe in democracy -- it will also suggest that a majority of voters in some key states simply do not care that their supposed leaders are this irresponsible and destructive. And that makes me deeply sick and sad.

Over 200,000 people are dead. Blaming China is not an answer. Saying it could have been worse is not an answer. If this were any other president, the political fallout would be swift and severe. Why would we excuse this calamity? Why would we give this president a pass? If this is what his first term has wrought -- why should he deserve another?

See this film. Make sure your friends and family see it. and anyone still supporting this president why he should be forgiven for promising this virus would disappear while it continues to rage.

RIP Sean Connery: A flawed human being but a hero on-screen

I just woke up to the surprising news that legendary actor Sean Connery has died at age 90. Connery was one of these guys who seemed like he would live forever -- after all he was a credible action star deep into his late 60s. He's been unofficially retired from acting for nearly 20 years, and he'd been missed, and now that's he's gone I think we can safely say we won't see another star quite like him.

He was famously a bodybuilder first who won the role of James Bond in spite of a pronounced Scottish accent and a gruffer aesthetic than author Ian Fleming initially imagined (Roger Moore was actually closer to to character's original conception). And of course the rest is history. Despite a long, successful career -- Connery's name will always be synonymous with the superspy character he created, and with good reason.

For years, and in some circles to this day, it's been taken as article of faith that Connery was (and perhaps always would be) the best actor to play Bond. This has always felt a little unfair, since Connery's portrayal was the first most audiences saw and got accustomed to and the one to which every subsequent portrayal would be compared.

I've always believed to some extent your favorite Bond usually corresponds with the one you sort of grew up with and so for many modern fans of the 007 franchise, Daniel Craig is the best -- after all, he's been occupying the role for 14 years now (albeit with long breaks in between films) and Connery is at best a distant memory.

That being said, he was spectacular in the role. There had never been a leading man quite like him before. He was aggressively sexual and confident, physically imposing, and a perfect mixture of dark and light. He was also an unforgivably misogynist character, which sadly was a reflection of Connery's problematic real life persona where he had the audacity to defend domestic abuse ON CAMERA in an interview with Barbara Walters.

In the context of the times they were made though -- these films are still terrific -- From Russia with Love and Goldfinger in particular do and should rank at or near the top of any 007 movie rankings. And for better or worse, it will be the iconic role for which he is best remembered. That being said he gave so many other fantastic performances that I want to highlight since there will be a tendency to only talk about his Bond movies when assessing his long career. Here are a few others I would strongly recommend:

The Hunt for Red October - Connery is so good in this submarine thriller that you buy him as a Russian captain, even with his unmistakable accent. He is all cool gravitas here -- smart, capable and commanding -- and an excellent counterpoint to Alec Baldwin's portrayal of a nerdy, nervous Jack Ryan. I know people are fond of The Rock, but for my money this was his best late career leading man role.

Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade - Despite their actually close proximity in age (Connery was only 12 years older than Harrison Ford) he and Ford made a great father son-pair in this, the second best Indiana Jones movie (in my opinion). Connery showed off his formidable comic chops but also delivers pathos in the emotional finale. He would go on to become the oldest man to win Sexiest Man Alive that year but he's so charming in this it's easy to see why.

The Untouchables - Connery won his only acting Oscar for this tour de force gangster movie from Brian De Palma and boy did he deserve it. He explodes on screen as a bigoted, veteran beat cop who gets a second chance at glory when he is improbably recruited by Elliot Ness to take on Al Capone. Such a quotable, unforgettable performance and probably the one he'd be best remembered for if it wasn't for James Bond.

The Offence - A little known gem from director Sidney Lumet, who is best known for his New York-based crime films but also made his fair share of British genre pictures too. This is one of the best Connery acting performances -- in what is largely a claustrophobic film centered around a brutal interrogation, he plays a deeply disturbed and violent cop with a very dark secret. A shocking departure for Connery that really subverts his hero persona.

The Man Who Would Be King - This romp starts off as an exciting adventure yarn about two rowdy hustlers (played to perfection by Connery and Michael Caine) who stumble into a situation where a relatively primitive culture mistakes them for Gods. Putting the racial politics of the movie aside, it becomes a fascinating parable about the corruption of power, and Connery in particular really relishes the scenes where his character self indulges in delusions of grandeur.

Marnie - This may be my favorite Connery performance. At first he seems like the typical, lovable Cary Grant-esque male lead foil in a Hitchcock film but scratch the surface a little bit and you'll find that his character is quite deranged (and eventually sadistic). The film perfectly captures the lightness and brooding darkness in the Connery persona as a man who must possess the leading lady to satisfy his own diminished ego. It's a complex performance in a wildly underrated psychological thriller.

'On the Rocks' is a lovely comfort film that lives up to predecessor

I'm relieved to say that Sofia Coppola's On the Rocks is an incredibly charming, deceptively sophisticated father-daughter comedy that is in its own way the perfect bookend to her breakout film 2003's Lost In Translation.  I say relieved because that film became such a beloved cultural touchstone that he re-teaming with her leading man Bill Murray would inevitably be compared to it unfairly.

The good news is that On the Rocks has an appeal that is all its own. While the prior film was a love letter to Japan, this film is an ode to the romance of a fully functional New York City. Her leading lady is a more mature and grounded Rashida Jones and Murray plays the polar opposite of his sad sack Bob Harris. Here he's a happy-go-lucky, fly-by-the-seat of his pants aging hipster (not unlike Murray itself).

The simple premise is outlined in all the trailers. Jones suspects that he husband (an understated, dialed down Marlon Wayans) may be cheating on her and she reluctantly enlists her dad -- an unapologetic and not entirely self aware misogynist -- to find out the truth.

Murray's character seizes on this 'adventure' with glee -- after all, it's an opportunity for him to spend more time with his daughter who he clearly adores but also to spout off unsolicited advice about the battle of the sexes. Jones has the harder, less showy role but she is an endlessly empathetic performer and her authenticity is perfectly suited to this material. 

And when she confronts Murray about his own hypocrisy, the film takes on more gravitas and allows the irascible comedy icon to deliver some of the most moving dramatic work of his career. Murray deserves to get a long overdue second Oscar nomination for his work here.

Coppola's eye for atmosphere and ear for dialogue keep the proceedings from ever feeling too sitcom-y. And while I can see some critics rolling their eyes at the comfortable privilege of its characters (there's a funny scene involving a run-in with police that is also an unintentional display of white privilege at its worse). But this doesn't have the claustrophobic feel that some say Woody Allen films have where it seems as though the New Yorkers never venture outside of a 10-block radius.

Also, not for nothing, but the film has two of the cutest child actors I've ever seen it.

As with many of Coppola's film -- with the distinct exception of her underrated remake of the genre thriller The Beguiled -- there is some intrigue that this movie is semi-autobiographical. In Lost in Translation, many presumed that the flaky film director husband of Scarlett Johansson's character was almost certainly based on her estranged husband director Spike Jonze.

In On the Rocks, the obvious question for film buffs and gossip mongers, is whether or not Murray is a facsimile of Coppola's famous director father -- Francis Coppola. Could be? Who cares. Whether it is or not the film is a lovely and loving exploration of the unique bond that a father and daughter share, even when the father can be a seriously flawed person.

Is the movie earth shattering? No. Neither was Lost In Translation. But it's graceful, witty and just the comfort film I needed.