Sunday, January 5, 2025

January 2025

 

A COMPLETE UNKNOWN (2024)

      “Make some noise, BD,” says a loaded Johnny Cash to Bob Dylan, who is pondering a career-changing decision at the 1965 Newport Folk Festival, in a scene near the end of James Mangold’s exceptional film about the singer-songwriter’s rise to fame.

     The scene is apocryphal, as no doubt are many scenes in this atmospheric chronicle of Dylan’s arrival and quick ascent in the Greenwich Village folk scene, but it cuts to the truth. Dylan’s performance at Newport remains one of the most important events in rock ‘n’ roll history and established his place beside Elvis and the Beatles at the top of the mountain. Mangold clearly knew his subject well before he started filming. 

      Timothée Chalamet, an actor I’ve dissed in the past, delivers a phenomenal portrait of this brilliant and elusive artist and, if that isn’t enough, does his own singing. His near-Bob singing and playing is at the heart of the film—as it should be—and he delivers; even for those who need convincing, the movie should make clear Dylan’s genius.

 

           Condensing time a bit, the movie begins with Dylan finding his way to the New Jersey hospital where folk legend Woody Guthrie (Scoot McNairy) is being treated for Huntington’s disease and is unable to speak. Encouraged by another folk hero, Pete Seeger (a perfect measured Edward Norton), who is also visiting, Bob plays a song he’s written about Woody. Dylan’s path, it seems, is set.

        The script, written by Mangold and Jay Cocks (the 80-year-old screenwriter who has worked on numerous Martin Scorsese films) and based on Elijah Wald’s book, captures the singer’s unique patter and sarcastic wit, without making him a cliché. They also reconfigure Dylan’s love life to two women, Suze Rotolo, called Sylvie Russo here (Elle Fanning), and Joan Baez (an extraordinary Monica Barbaro). Oddly, Dylan’s future wife, Sara Lownds, who was in his life by 1965, doesn’t show up nor does Edie Sedgwick, the Andy Warhol protégé Dylan was famously involved with.          

      As a Dylan enthusiast, it was a joy to watch episodes I’ve heard and read about through the years re-enacted, from the famous club and concert appearances to recording sessions (I loved that they included the infamous accidental organ solo by Al Kooper on “Like a Rolling Stone,” a classic rock ‘n’ roll tale).

     Barbaro, who played one of the fliers in “Top Gun: Maverick,” may be the find of the film; without really looking like Baez, she brings to life her love-hate relationship with Dylan. And her singing is stunning.

     There’s a moment in the film when she watches Dylan on stage and then, as he’s coming off stage, they kiss for the first time. It’s a classic movie moment of romanticism, perfectly framed by Mangold, and a rare heartfelt touch in this portrait of a young man who leaves little space for others.        

      Mangold directed very different types of bio-pics with “Walk the Line” (2005) about Johnny Cash and “Ford v Ferrari” (2019) about race car partners Carroll Shelby and Ken Miles. With “A Complete Unknown,” he tops himself by maintaining a somewhat removed view of his subject, letting the audience embrace him (or not) rather than pushing him on us.

      Chalamet deserves much of the credit; his Dylan, off stage, stays in the background the best he can, a soft-spoken kid dealing with fame. It’s his lyrics that shake up the music world.      

  

SEPTEMBER 5 (2024)

    Seeing death and violence on television news was nothing unusual when I was growing up. The vile attacks by police on African-Americans, the assassinations of our bravest leaders, the daily reports from Vietnam and various terrorist attacks, domestic and foreign, were ubiquitous in the late 1960s and into the 70s.

    But no event was aired live at such length (Ruby killing Oswald lasted only a few seconds) as was the Palestinian terrorists’ attack on the Jewish athletes during the 1972 Olympics in Munich.

    While I’m surprised it took more than a half century for this compelling story to be filmed, “September 5” delivers a lean, fast-paced tick-tock recreation of what the ABC Olympic television crew went through in covering the 20-hour-long tragedy.

   In the driver’s seat is Geoffrey Mason (John Magaro), the backup director who is on duty at 4 a.m. when the news breaks.

    While sports division chief Roone Arledge (Peter Sarsgaard)—the man who virtually invented the way Olympics are covered on TV—fights with his bosses to keep the news department from taking over the coverage from sports, Mason and his team, prominently production chief Marvin Bader (Ben Chaplin), scramble with what now seems like antique technology to cover the on-going event.

     They are also wrestling with some basic journalistic ethics: whose story are they telling with their coverage, the terrorists or the victims; are the terrorists seeing and utilizing their broadcast as inept German law-enforcement tries to get a clean shot at the terrorists; and can they show a hostage being killed on live TV. This all happens while they struggle to just get usable video and reliable information (future ABC anchor Peter Jennings is the reporter on the scene).

    Smartly, Swiss director Tim Fehlbaum, who co-wrote the script with Moritz Binder and Alex David, uses the actual video of Jim McKay, ABC’s legendary sports anchor, rather than casting an actor in the role. McKay shows why he’s considered the epitome of broadcasting integrity.

     It’s easy to say that the film, 52 years later, can’t have the same impact of one that the ending is unknown. Yet in many ways, knowing the tragic end makes it more heartbreaking, especially when the broadcast team airs early reports from the final shootout at the airport that the hostages have survived.

    I can still remember tearing up when McKay announced that all the hostages were dead—it’s just as devastating when you see him say it on tape, and see the impact it has on the rest of the broadcast crew.

     For anyone who has an interest in the current Middle East conflict or in broadcast news, this picture is a must see. It’s one of the year’s best films.

    While Magaro (“First Cow,” “Past Lives”) and Sarsgaard (who played another famous media personality, writer-editor Chuck Lane, in “Shattered Glass”) are excellent, the surprise of the film is Chaplin. While he’s been a busy character actor since the early 1990s, he’s never left much of an impact on any of his pictures—until now. His Bader is the moral center of the picture, a rigorous journalist who forces the excitable broadcasters to think before they act. 

      Also memorably is Leonie Benesch (“The Teachers’ Lounge”), who plays a low-level assistant thrust into a key role because she’s the only one in the crew who can speak German.

     In these confusing times, Fehlbaum and his superb cinematographer Markus Förderer, have brought to life, in just 95 minutes, a seminal event that deserves to be remembered.

  

NICKEL BOYS (2024)

     Though I appreciate experimental movie storytelling—I consider Terrence Malick and David Lynch among the finest living filmmakers—not all styles fit every story.

    Documentary director RaMell Ross making his feature debut has turned Colson Whitehead’s specifically detailed novel of a boys’ reform school/detention center in the 1960s into an impressionistic, occasionally abstract picture that not only undercuts Whitehead’s disturbing story but becomes a hinderance to feeling empathy for the characters.

     The director’s insistence on mostly showing most of the action through the point of view of one of the two main characters---both confined at the Nickel—is distracting, to say the least. The odd style feels like a gimmick, keeping the viewers at arm’s length and lessening the impact of the horrors at this state-run facility.

     I understand that the filmmakers’ (Whitehead collaborated on the screenplay)

desire to “reimagine” the novel, according one of the producers, but rarely is POV effective in a movie for more than a few scenes. It quickly grows annoying.

      I also wonder how much of the story is lost to those viewers not familiar with the novel.

      Elwood Curtis (Ethan Herisse) is an outstanding high school student who foolishly hitches a ride to a local college where he’s been enrolled in advance classes. Turns out, the car is stolen and, despite his innocence—this is Florida in the 1960s—he’s sent to the notorious Nickel Academy.

     There he, along with his buddy Turner (Brandon Wilson), witnesses and endures brutal punishment for minor offenses and works as a virtual slave for the administrators.

     The novel occasionally jumps ahead to contemporary times and his current life is described. Those scenes in the film use the double dolly shot used often (and apparently invented) by Spike Lee that make the character seem to glide through the set. Nothing about the technique lends any kind of realism to a film.

     And realism is exactly what this story cries out for. Few things are as disappointing as movie adaptation that fails a powerful, Pulitzer Prize-winning novel.

     The way “Nickel Boys” is shot also leaves little room for performance; these should have been great roles for Herisse and Wilson but they barely registered.

     It seems I am in the minority in my criticism of the filmmaker’s approach and the film will no doubt earn numerous Oscar nominations, but I’m not surprised that the picture has done little business at the box office.

 

THE STRANGE DOOR (1951)

      Though not really a horror film, this creepy picture falls into the cycle of Universal horror that began in the sound era with the 1931 classics “Dracula” and “Frankenstein” and concluded with such foolishness starring Abbott and Costello.

    Charles Laughton, who always gives a particularly odd performance, tops himself as Sire Alain de Maletroit, the easily amused lord of a spooky castle who kidnaps a local ruffian (Richard Stapley) with the intent of marrying him off to his young niece (Sally Forrest). For reasons that seems normal in this crazed, dank film, Maletroit has imprisoned his brother (the girl’s father) and is determined to ruin the young lady’s life. The script is based on a Robert Louis Stevenson short story.

    Boris Karloff lurks about—looking through peep holes at the goings-on—as Voltan, the dungeon keeper who, unknown to Maletroit, is loyal to the imprisoned brother.

     Director Joseph Pevney, whose “Undercover Girl” (1950) is the rare ‘50s picture starring a female cop, keeps the action moving, even when the plot seems to be flagging, while cinematographer Irving Glassberg (“Bend of the River”) makes the cheap sets (probably left over from a dozen films) look menacing. But the main job seems to be letting Laughton chew up the scenery—even his hairdo overacts—and that’s before the impossible-to-kill Karloff seeks his ultimate revenge. I’d never heard of the picture until I bought a five-film box set of Karloff’s lesser-known efforts. This film alone was worth the bargain price I paid.

    London-born William Pratt had an amazing career as Boris Karloff. A theater touring company took him to Los Angeles and he starting working in silents in 1919 (while also driving truck to pay the rent). More than 10 years later, in 1931, among the 15 films he appeared in that year, he played the Monster in James Whale’s “Frankenstein,” giving an unforgettable performance in the horror masterpiece. From that point, his career was set—for better or worse. He never stopped working, inevitably as a dangerous, often otherworldly character, until his death in 1969 at age 81. Karloff made a ton of bad films, but don’t miss his excellent performance as a grave robber in “The Body Snatcher” (1945), based on another Stevenson story.

    Laughton’s years as a star were behind him by the 1950s—the next year he did “Abbott and Costello Meet Captain Kidd”—but he shined in “Hobson’s Choice” (1954), “Witness for the Prosecution” (1957) and, his final feature, “Advise & Consent” (1962). And, most memorably, he directed Robert Mitchum in “The Night of the Hunter” (1955).

   Pevney went on to direct dozens of TV episodes from the 1950s until the 1980s, including 14 episodes of the original “Star Trek” series.

  

THE APPRENTICE (2024)

   Because of the politician nature of this film, I’m reluctant to even write about it. It breaks my vow to ignore all things connected to our soon-to-be-president for at least the next four years. But I can’t ignore what is among the best films of 2024.

     While it exited theaters quickly—I streamed it for a mere $6—it deserved a bigger audience, if only for the exceptional performances by Sebastian Stan (Bucky Barnes in the “Captain America” series) as the up-and-coming real estate investor Donald Trump and an amazing Jeremy Strong (he played the eldest son in “Succession”) as the notorious lawyer Roy Cohn, who takes a wide-eyed Trump under his evil wing.

    Trump’s first encounter with the intense, venomous Cohen, made famous at the McCarthy hearings 20 years earlier (the film is set in the mid-1970s), takes place at a private club where the lawyer is dining at a table filled with famous New York City mobsters.

    He persuades young Trump to let him handle his father’s ongoing case in which the government is suing him for housing discrimination. From that point on, he’s at Trump’s side as the future president ascends in the business world.       

          It’s comical watching a straitlaced Trump navigate one of Cohn’s sex and drug parties where the rich, rightwing elite of the city get down and dirty. It’s also where Cohn obtains material to be used later to “influence” city officials, judges and others to do his bidding.

    The last third of the film loses some steam as Trump distances himself from Cohn—like we see today, he doesn’t like sharing the spotlight. And then, when Cohn takes ill, Trump refuses to take calls from his one-time mentor.

     Cohn’s death from AIDS, after a lifetime of denying his homosexuality and degrading gays—along with anyone else who wasn’t rich and white—was a part of Tony Kushner’s theatrical masterpiece “Angels in America.” In this film, Strong perfectly captures Cohn’s unabashed corruption and willingness of manipulate the system for his own gain, a philosophy he passed along to Trump. Among his lessons: Always claim victory no matter what the outcome.

      The film also shows that Trump’s penchant for not paying his bills comes from Cohn, who was constantly under investigation by the IRS.

     Beyond the performances, the film dramatizes (who knows how much of this is true) the undeniable truth that the rich and elite win the game by getting away with ignoring the rules. Ironically, it took an Iranian director, Ali Abbasi, to bring this essential American story to the screen. It was scripted by Gabriel Sherman, who wrote the thoughtful television series about newspapers, “Alaska Daily.”

     Not surprisingly, it was a major struggle to find a distributor for the picture.

  

OH, CANADA (2024)

      Of Paul Schrader’s recent movies—focusing on men who have reinvented themselves yet are still struggling with ghosts of the past—his latest comes across as the least thought out. While not without its touching moments, this story of an acclaimed documentarian remembering his life during an interview too often spins its wheels on what seems like trivial matters. 

     Richard Gere delivers a solid performance as Leonard Fife, who reluctantly agrees to being the subject of a documentary by a former student of his (Michael Imperioli, Christopher from “The Sopranos”) as he nears death.

     It’s really a one-character show (Jacob Elordi, from “Saltburn,” plays the younger Leonard) that has the opinionated filmmaker recalling in great detail deserting his first wife and young son. A big emphasis is put on his going to Canada to avoid the American draft during the Vietnam War, but the circumstances and rational remain unclear.

     There’s also bickering, during the filmed interview, between him and his current wife (Uma Thurman) that felt unnecessary to the story.

      Though based on a novel by the award-winning Canadian writer Russell Banks (who also wrote “Affirmation,” one of Schrader’s best films), the director should have done one more rewrite of the script.   

     Filmgoers would be better off catching Schrader’s “First Reformed” (2017), “The Card Counter” (2021) or “Master Gardener” (2023), a fascinating (unofficial) trilogy from the legendary screenwriter of “Taxi Driver.”

     He also helped make Gere a star with “American Gigolo” (1980).

  

ASSASSIN’S CREED (2016)

    This special-effects extravaganza represents everything distressing about the future of the movies. An adaptation of a video game series, it stars three of the finest actors now working in the cinema: Marion Cotillard (2007 Oscar winner for “La Vie En Rose”), Michael Fassbender (“12 Years a Slave,” “Steve Jobs”)—reuniting the leads of the 2015 version of “Macbeth” with its director Justin Kurzel—and Jeremy Irons, who has been giving great performance since the early 1980s, including his Oscar-winning turn in “Reversal of Fortune” (1990).

     The trio elevate this cartoon of a sci-fi drama as best they can, but the fact that performers of this caliber feel it necessary to work in such films makes me sad. Imagine Katharine Hepburn and Cary Grant starring in a 1938 version of “Star Trek” or “Dune” with James Stewart and Jack Nicholson? The mind reels.

     The crazy storyline of “Assassin’s Creed” sends the plot back to 1492 when the Knights Templar (the go-to group for long-ago skulduggery) hid a bejeweled ball called the Apple that, according to contemporary scientists, offers the key to unlocking humanity’s violent nature.

     Fassbender’s Lynch is saved from a death penalty sentence because his ancestors were Templar assassins, which enables Cotillard’s Sofia and her father (Irons) to send him into the past to track down the Apple.

     Of course, any third grader, told that the action was set in 1492, could have guessed the secret to finding the holy relic. A planned sequel died on the vine when this film didn’t make the money producers expected.

     Occasionally, Fassbender and Cotillard are given the chance to show their thespian skills, but most of the movie consists of long chases and sword play, during which I struggled to distinguish between the good guys and the bad guys.      Though one thing was very clear: we should not be trusting scientists as they are up to no good. 

     The supporting cast includes Charlotte Rampling, Brendan Gleeson and Essie Davis, who starred as the sexy detective in the TV series “Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries.”

     I guess I will never accept the now common career trajectory that sends actors from serious drama to comic book adaptations to streaming series on Hulu and back again—one month you are reciting Shakespeare’s timeless verse and the next you are jumping around in front of a blue screen.

  

EMILIA PEREZ (2024)

    There’s a serious film somewhere beneath the forgettable songs, poor singing and overacting that dominate this Spanish-language film.

    At its heart, this is a story of a brutal Mexican drug lord (transgender actress Karla Sofía Gascón) who wants to reinvents himself as a woman, hiring a resourceful lawyer (Zoe Saldana) to arrange for the medical procedures and relocation. Unfortunately, the filmmakers ran out of plot at that point and turned the film into a public service announcement for the criminal horrors that law enforcement in that country have turned a blind eye to for decades.  

     There’s also a soap opera aspect to the story: his wife from his former life (a raving Selena Gomez) shows up in the new female’s life to share the upbringing of her children. Emilia pretends to be the “late” drug dealer’s sister to gain access to the children.

     It is certainly possible to make a musical about series subjects—Bob Fosse did it twice, in “Cabaret” and “All That Jazz”—but it takes an exceptional director and writers (see “West Side Story”) to pull it off. In “Emilia Pérez,” the singing undercuts the story, exacerbated by amateur crooning. Even pop star Gomez can’t elevate the music.

     Director Jacques Audiard has done some excellent work in the past, scoring an Oscar nomination for best foreign film for “A Prophet” (2009) and eliciting a superb performance from Marion Cotillard in “Rust and Bone” (2012).

    The film clearly impressed some critics, earning 10 nominations from the Golden Globe voters, but I suspect that the idea of a transgender lead performance outweighed the merits of the movie.

     

BABYGIRL (2024)

     I’m not sure what I should take away from this slickly shot story of an intense extramarital affair involving sexual dominance. The affair and the drama surrounding it supply the film with a plot, but, in truth, this is a portrait of a middle-aged woman’s sexuality.

    I kept expecting someone to get killed and police detectives to show up, but responsibility isn’t what this movie is about. Nicole Kidman, in one of her most complex roles, plays Romy, the no-nonsense CEO of a robotic company who is married to a theater director (Antonio Banderas) and has two children.

    When the new crop of interns arrives at the company, she notices a young man (soft-spoken Harris Dickinson, the model in “Triangle of Sadness”) who she saw calm a vicious dog earlier in the day. Somehow, Samuel sees in Romy a kindred spirit and after circling one another for a few weeks, they end up in a hotel room.

       Unsatisfied in her sexual relations with her husband, Romy finds ecstasy in taking commands from this much younger man.

       The movie is written and directed by Halina Reijn, a longtime Dutch actress who previously made two features, including “Bodies Bodies Bodies” (2022), about a group of hedonistic youngsters.

       While Kidman’s performance is mesmerizing, as is her total commitment to the role—considering the film’s topic, the nudity is kept to a minimum—it’s hard to get around the fact that this is a boss having an affair with an employee half her age. To state the obvious, this film could never be made in 2024 with a man in the Kidman role.

      The presentation of a female boss who does exactly what men have been doing forever and women have been fighting against for the last half century was disturbing. Was that the point? 

 

PHOTOS:

Edward Norton listens to Timothee Chalamet in “A Complete Unknown.”  (Searchlight Pictures)

Ethan Herisse in “Nickel Boys.”  (Amazon MGM Studios)

Jeremy Strong and Sebastian Stan in “The Apprentice.” (Briarcliff Entertainment)

Karla Sofía Gascón in “Emilia Pérez.”  (Netflix)