September 2025

 

ROBERT REDFORD  (1936-2025)

       By the late 1960s and early 70s, Robert Redford, who died last week at the age of 89, had established himself as the biggest star in Hollywood. But he had bigger aspirations: he made his directing debut with “Ordinary People” in 1980—tellingly not starring himself despite a perfect role for him—winning both the best picture and best director Oscars and then created the Sundance Film Institute and Festival, which for the past 40 years has been a leading outlet for independent filmmaking.

     After five years of work in television, including playing Parritt in the TV version of “The Iceman Cometh” (1960), Redford quickly became a popular actor, working with top directors such as Robert Mulligan (“Inside Daisy Clover”), Arthur Penn (“The Chase”) and Sydney Pollack (“This Property Is Condemned) and scoring a box office hit opposite Jane Fonda in “Barefoot in the Park” (1967).  While dismissed early in his career as just an attractive blond, Redford emerged as one of the 1970’s best actors.

      While I’m less enamored of the films that made him a superstar—"Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid,” “The Sting” and “The Way We Were”—it’s hard to deny that any actor of his generation was as convincing in both roles as a heart-melting love interest and as a man struggling to understand his place in the world.

      Between the hits, he was much more interesting in “Downhill Racer,” “Jeremiah Johnson” and “The Candidate.” In the mid-70s he peaked with pitch-perfect performances as Turner, a CIA agent under siege in “Three Days of the Condor” and as tenacious journalist Bob Woodward in “All the President’s Men.” Redford had a special relationship with director Pollack, starring in six of his films, including “Three Days” and his last high-profile film, “Out of Africa.”

      Even before directing, he was a force behind the scenes, especially with “All the President’s Men,” the greatest film he ever appeared in, pushing Woodward and Carl Bernstein to agree to turn their Watergate reporting into a movie. 

       After starting his directing career in 1980, he acted in just nine films over the next 20 years, but that includes “Brubaker,” “The Natural” (his aging slugger Roy Hobbs has become iconic) and “Out of Africa.” And while he only directed nine pictures in his career, he made two great ones, “Ordinary People” and “Quiz Show” (1994).

      He didn’t score many good roles this century—Redford turned 65 in 2001—but he earned high marks for his nearly wordless one-man performance in “All Is Lost” (2013) and was outstanding in the underrated “An Unfinished Life” (2005).

     Redford was an underappreciated figure in modern film history: Beyond his film roles or his directing efforts or his role in the indie filmmaking movement (where he mentored numerous young filmmakers), his face, reflecting both his sexual allure and quiet thoughtfulness, became as iconic an image of his era of any performer of his time. As an actor, he wasn’t Nicholson, Pacino or De Niro, but he was more beloved and irreplaceable to the collective that made the ‘70s a reflowering of American cinema. In the tradition of Clark Gable and Cary Grant, Redford will be remembered as one of the essential 20^th Century figures of movie romanticism.

  

DOWNTON ABBEY: THE FINAL CHAPTER (2025)

     Set just a few years after “A New Era” (2022), this closing installment—if you believe the title—of the beloved British television series is highly entertaining for fans of the show. Otherwise, it offers a fashion show of 1930 clothing and morals.

    I wrote this when the last film was released: “Lady Mary (Michelle Dockery), now running the house as her father Robert (Hugh Bonneville) has “retired” from being a wealthy landowner, holds forth back at Downton as a film company arrives to shoot a silent drama.” Believe it or not, writer-creator Julian Fellowes uses almost the same central plot in “The Final Chapter.”

     Turns out Lord Grantham continues to struggle with handing power over to his daughter, complicated by her divorce (still a high-society no-no in 1930) and her uncle’s (Paul Giamatti) mishandling of her American grandmother’s estate.

      The picture opens with a travelling shot of the West End, beautifully recreated in CGI, where the family is taking in the latest Noël Coward musical. They meet the world-famous writer-actor (a scene stealing Arty Froushan) through their former butler Barrow (Robert James-Collier), who now is the companion to dashing stage and screen actor Guy Dexter (Dominic West).

     While the gaping hole left in the story by Maggie Smith’s death (on screen in the last film, in real life in 2024) is impossible to fill, any devotee of the series will be pleased to see all the cherished characters move on to the next stage of their lives.

 

NIGHT OF THE JUGGLER (1980)

     Chronicling the dangers of New York City was virtually a movie genre in the 1970s, starting with “The French Connection” and “Shaft,” followed by “Across 110^th Street,” “Superfly,” “Serpico,” and “Mean Streets.” The “Death Wish” movies turned the city into a hellscape, while Martin Scorsese’s “Taxi Driver” seemed to blame the Big Apple for turning a cabbie into a psychotic.

     “Night of the Juggler,” a largely forgotten picture from the end of the cycle, offers a journey through the blight of New York while following an intense hunt for a child kidnapper.

      James Brolin, a solid but rather staid actor through the 1960s and 70s, gives his most interesting performance as Sean, a former police detective whose teenage daughter is mistaken for an heiress by a malcontented psycho, superbly played by Cliff Gorman (“The Boys in the Band” and, on Broadway, “Lenny”). After Gorman’s Gus grabs Kathy (Abby Bluestone), Sean chases in vain the pair on foot and by taxi all over the city before he slowed by a police detective (“The Godfather’s” Richard Castellano) and a disgruntled former partner (Dan Hedaya).

     Unlike so many films of the era, “Juggler” avoids moralizing or overhyping the situation, led by Brolin’s unrelenting Sean, who does his best to keep a cool head. It’s well directed by James Butler, a veteran of episodical television.

        These days, Brolin is better known as Barbra Streisand’s husband and Josh Brolin’s father. Back then, he was a familiar face as Dr. Kiley, associate of “Marcus Welby, M.D.,” the popular TV series, which ran from 1969 to 1976.

         A restored print of the film, which was released earlier this month and given special screenings in Los Angeles, is now available for streaming. For free, you can watch the unrestored version on YouTube.

  

HIGHEST 2 LOWEST (2025)

      The pieces of this surprisingly uninvolving Spike Lee kidnap melodrama, a remake of a much-admired 1963 film by Akira Kurosawa, play out like they were stitched together with tape and staples, showing its seams despite the dominating presence of Denzel Washington.

      Washington, in his sixth, and least interesting, picture with Lee, plays egotistical record executive David King—what kind of music he produces is never made quite clear—in the midst of pulling off a tricky buyback of his music business. Then his son and the young man’s best friend, while attending a basketball camp, go missing and King receives a call asking for $17.5 million ransom for his son.

     I’m being generous when I write that the first part of the movie has the gravitas of a Hallmark movie. While the camera lingers over the King luxurious apartment, looking over the Manhattan skyline, the dialogue lacks any understanding how people talk to one another. Emphasizing the shallow script is a sentimental piano score that sounds like something from a wedding reception.

      The supporting performances all feel forced, overly rehearsed including Ilfenesh Hadera (very good as the wife of mobster Bumpy Johnson in Hulu’s “Godfather of Harlem”) as King’s wife, the usually reliable Jeffrey Wright as King’s driver and close friend and the trio of hapless police officers dealing with the kidnapping.

       The plot grows more ludicrous as the cops ignore obvious angles, expecting to catch the plotters during the money drop. You don’t have to be a genius detective to know who would have an axe to grind with a record exec.

        The new film follows the basics of the Kurosawa movie, “High and Low,” which stars Japanese acting legend Toshiro Mifune as a shoe company exe faced with a kidnapping gone wrong.

        Like the original, at the heart of “Highest 2 Lowest” is King’s moral decision in dealing with the kidnapper, to do the right thing or not. But as the story continues, the director pushes the criminal’s (A$AP Rocky) point of view—in two offensively profane rants—attempting to mitigate his actions, or, at least, give light to the moral righteousness of his actions. I really don’t know.

      Like so many of the director’s recent films, he leaves viewers with a mixed message.  

  

THE FAT MAN (1951)

     A popular radio program that was based on a Dashiell Hammett character serves as the launching point for this amusing low-budget detective yarn. Hammett’s “Fat Man” seems to be based on his “Continental Op” investigator and, in part, on Kasper Gutman in “The Maltese Falcon.”

     (Early stories of both Hammett and Raymond Chandler contain bits and pieces of plot and characters that appear later in their more famous novels.)

     J. Scott Smart, who had small film roles in “Kiss of Death” and “Some Like It Hot,” reprises his vocal performance in the flesh, bringing a self-assured, quick-witted persona to the role. He’s more Nick Charles than Sam Spade.

    As Brad Runyan, who travels with a personal chief (Clinton Sundberg), he becomes involved in the unexplained death of a dentist attending a convention.

     The plot plays out through the memories of various characters remembering in flashbacks the criminal and romantic life of ex-con Roy Clark (up-and-coming star Rock Hudson), whose partners-in-crime plan his demise.

     The women in his life are played by Julie London, better known as a nightclub singer and recording artist who had a long career in television and Jayne Meadows, who later became the sidekick (and wife) of comedian Steve Allen.

     Oddly, the mystery leads the Fat Man to the circus and a clown played by the legendary Emmett Kelly, both in and out of makeup.

        Behind the camera for this programmer is William Castle, whose early career (“Johnny Stool Pigeon,” “Hollywood Story,” among others) deserves more attention than his higher profile work in horror films in the late 1950s and throughout the ‘60s. Here, Castle is greatly aided by cinematographer Irving Glassberg (“Bend of the River,” “The Tarnished Angels”).

  

HONEY DON’T!  (2025)

     After three decades of sharing credit, brothers Joel and Ethan Cohn decided to go solo a few years ago. Joel directed a moody, superbly acted black-and-white version of “The Tragedy of Macbeth” in 2021. Ethan, very much on the other hand, directed “Drive-Away Dolls” (2024), which I didn’t see, and “Honey Don’t!” a Robert Rodriguez knock-off overflowing with gruesome murders and gratuitous nudity played for laughs.

     The actress of the moment, Margaret Qualley, who also starred in “Drive Away Dolls,” plays a sharp-tongued, no-nonsense private detective who takes an interest in a young woman who, it seems, died in a violent car accident.

     The rest of the story involves a slow-witted cop (Charlie Day), a religious guru (Chris Evans) who sleeps with women in his congregation and a policewoman who becomes Honey’s lover (Aubrey Plaza).

      If I didn’t know this was made by the filmmaker half responsible for some of the best motion pictures of the last 40 years, I would assume it was a first-time director who spent the last decade watching slasher movies and taking college courses in screenwriting. Filled with sarcastic one-liners and half-hearted performances, the film quickly grows tiresome.

     Qualley, who shows up in a couple of the movies a year (2024’s “Kinds of Kindness” and “The Substance,” this year’s “Happy Gilmore 2”), first drew attention with a small role in “Once Upon a Time…in Hollywood.” She appears so at ease on screen that she barely seems to be acting. Plaza, who resembles Qualley to the point that she could pass as her older sister, is stuck with an underwritten, way-to-obvious role that evolves into a very unconvincing ending.

    I’m already looking forward to a Coen reunion.

 

THE DOUBLE (2011)

      Streaming services are lousy with political thrillers with cliché-riddled scripts, overly intense acting and the requisite drone shots sweeping over famous D.C. buildings. I stumbled onto this one on Tubi, hoping that the presence of Richard Gere and Martin Sheen, stars of the 1970s now white haired but still hanging in there, would elevate this tale of Russian spies.

      While at its center is the old chestnut of a young, eager agent (Topher Grace) partnered with reluctant, irascible veteran (Gere, of course), the journey to the surprising final act was better than most.

     Sheen plays the CIA chief who brings Gere’s Paul, a long-retired spy, back into the fold after the murder of a U.S. senator looks like the work of an old Soviet foe of the agent. He’s partnered with Grace’s Geary, who has made a career as an expert on the 1980s pursuit of the Russian mobsters.

     The writing, by director Michael Brandt (executive producer of the three “Chicago” first-responders series) and co-writer Derek Haas, lets an interesting character flail, revealing too much too soon about Paul and not enough by the end. Even worse, they allow more than an hour go by without a scene between Gere and Sheen. For me, a little bit of Grace (“That ‘70s Show” and, more recently, “Waterfront”) goes a long way.     

      Sheen, now 85, started working on soap operas and other TV shows in the early 1960s before his breakthrough, playing a returning WW II veteran, in “The Subject Was Roses” (1970). Working steadily in both features and TV, the actor’s high points in include the young criminal on the run in “Badlands” (1973); two superb 1974 TV movies, as the sympathetic deserter in “The Execution of Private Slovik” and as Robert Kennedy in “The Missiles of October”; Capt. Willard in the outlandishly brilliant “Apocalypse Now” (1979); and capping it off with his President Bartlett in the critically acclaimed TV series “The West Wing.” Along the way are another dozen memorable roles in his continuing 60-year career.

        The 76-year-old Gere remains, like his successor Brad Pitt, an enduring movie sex symbol, an old-fashioned screen star who makes even mediocre material better. His best recent work was as a pushy political meddler in “Norman” (2016) and as an ethically challenged stock trader in “Arbitrage” (2012).

 

 

PHOTOS:

The iconic Robert Redford, who passed away on Sept. 16.

James Brolin in “Night of the Juggler.”  (Kino Lorber Studio)

The colorful lobby card for “The Fat Man.”  (Universal Pictures)

Richard Gere and Martin Sheen in “The Double.”  (Image Entertainment)

July-August 2025

CARNEGIE HALL (1947)

    I feel incredibly lucky to have spent my formative years in the 20^th Century. Television, before it became an instrument of division, was the great equalizer, especially in the 1960s and ‘70s. With just three networks, PBS and a handful of local outlets, everyone was exposed to the same programming; limiting maybe, but it also created a broadly educated populace, exposing us to everything from novelists, painters, classical musicians to pop stars, athletes, movie actors, filmmakers and comics. Not just the latest arrivals to success, but the entire roster of the century, from before movies talked or radio existed.

      On any given weekday in the 1960s, Louis Armstrong, Irving Berlin, Leonard Bernstein, John Lennon, Salvador Dalí, James Baldwin, Henny Youngman, Marlon Brando, Wilt Chamberlain or Alfred Hitchcock could show up on talk shows hosted by Mike Douglas, Merv Griffin, Johnny Carson and Dick Cavett. And then, on Sunday evening, America’s ultimate ringmaster, Ed Sullivan, might have a lineup of comedian Shecky Greene, pop sensation Herman’s Hermits, opera star Joan Sutherland, a Bulgarian juggling act and Topo Gigio ((if you don’t know, don’t ask). Ludicrous, but as mind expanding as any psychedelic drug. (Worth checking out: “Sunday Best,” a new Netflix documentary on Sullivan and his role in promoting African-American performers.)

     While my generation embraced the rock ‘n’ roll of Bob Dylan and the Rolling Stones and the films of Al Pacino and Robert De Niro, in our consciousness from these variety shows or news reports was Gershwin, Hepburn, Ellington, Stravinsky, Picasso and Capote---creating a palette in which 100 years of artistic disciplines mingled.

    Which brings me to “Carnegie Hall,” a compendium of classical music set in the New York City concert cathedral. This isn’t a documentary made for the classroom but a 2-hour and 24-minute feature that post-war hoi polloi went to see at their neighborhood theater, providing a chance to witness pianist Arthur Rubinstein, violinist Jascha Heifetz, conductor Leopold Stokowski, opera singer Lily Pons and many others perform on the recently refurbished Carnegie Hall stage.

     In between the lengthy musical sets, Marsha Hunt plays a woman who rises from Carnegie Hall cleaning lady to booking the talent in the early part of the century. The drama revolves around her son, a pianist (William Prince, later a busy character actor into the 1970s) who turns away from the classics after joining Vaughn Monroe’s big band.

     But it’s the collection of mostly European musicians who are the real stars and, of course, the music of Chopin, Beethoven, Tchaikovsky, Mozart and Wagner as played in this legendary venue. The film is artfully shot by veteran cinematographer William Miller and directed by Edgar G. Ulmer, best known for his low-budget film noir “Detour” (1945).

     It’s one thing to enjoy a movie, but it’s another to be awe-struck by the actual existence of a production; “Carnegie Hall” is like the “Woodstock” of 20^th Century classical music, a monument to the power of great performances set in the Seventh Avenue concert venue that has remained a pillar of American arts excellence since 1891.

 

SUPERMAN (2025)

     I guess there’s no point in complaining about a basic fact of life: Hollywood will never stop remaking “Spiderman” and “Superman” movies. I have nothing against franchises but rebooting a movie series strikes me as a vast waste of talent and money. I half expect to hear about plans for another set of “Harry Potters.”

      I actually enjoyed the 2013’s “Man of Steel” that starred Henry Cavill as Clark Kent—it gave him an interesting backstory and featured a moving performance by Diane Lane as his adoptive mother. Of course, the late 1970s Christopher Reeve-Richard Donner pictures were landmarks of a sort, but, truthfully, haven’t aged well.

     As usual, in the new version Superman is played by a strong-jawed, male model type, David Corenswet, a Juilliard grad in his first major role, but for once the script—by director James Gunn from the original comic book by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster—dispenses with the cat-and-mouse games between our hero and co-worker Los Lane (Rachel Brosnahan, star of “The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel”). They are romantically involved when the film begins and, shockingly, she knows he’s a superhero.

      Nicholas Hoult (a rather dull actor who also starred in “Nosferatu” and “Juror #2”) portrays arch-rival Lex Luthor, who runs a high-tech paramilitary group deeply entrenched with the American government. (Any resemblance to 2025 reality is strenuously denied.)

      Luthor effortlessly convinces the public and political leaders that Superman is a bad guy who needs to be put down. Lex even has his own private prison he built in another dimension (well, almost Florida).

     The film is saved, or at least made tolerable, by Gunn adding a bit of the brand of humor found in his “Guardians of the Galaxy” films, when a trio of superheroes, called the Justice Gang (they’re still working on that name) jump into the fray. The gang’s Mr. Terrific (Edi Gathegi) is the film’s real hero.

      This version also gives Jimmy Olsen (Skyler Gisondo) something to do beyond saying “Gee Whiz Clark!” He plays an important role in undercovering Luthor’s evil plan and, actually, has a girlfriend.

     In 2035, when someone reboots “Superman” yet again, I’m hoping they age the Man of Steel a bit; have him face a middle-age crisis or even contemplate retirement. It certainly would be an improvement over telling the same story yet again as if a new cast and updated special effects make any difference.

 

EDDINGTON (2025)

     It’s been a couple of weeks since I saw this patched-together collection of incidents involving a slow-witted, loud-mouth sheriff in Eddington, a small, dusty town in New Mexico, and I’m still not sure what I think of it.

    Joaquin Phoenix stars as Sheriff Joe Cross, who vigilantly opposes mask wearing even as COVID starts spreading across the country, and then turns his rivalry with the town’s slick, politically connected mayor (Pedro Pascal) into a live-action version of the Elmer Fudd-Bugs Bunny feud. Adding to Cross’ chaotic world is his unstable wife (a slumming Emma Stone), a mother-in-law obsessed with internet-fueled conspiracies (Deirdre O’Connell) and a half-baked street preacher (Austin Butler) who muddles the sheriff’s already tentative marriage.

    I know writer-director Ari Aster (“Hereditary,” “Beau Is Afraid”) wants audiences to laugh at these clueless, occasionally racist, insistently uninformed characters but they cut a bit too close to what much of America has become, from one-stoplight communities to the White House, for me to be amused. Films usually offer at least one character who audiences can hang their hat on, providing either hope or at least of semblance of sanity as everything goes to hell in a handbasket. Not in “Eddington.”   

    Phoenix, who has a history of making confounding movies, manages to hold this jigsaw puzzle of a picture together, even as his character zig-zags all over the spectrum.

     At worst, “Eddington” is underhandedly racist (making light of Black Lives Matter protests) and uninformed (mocking those worried about COVID), but maybe it’s just poorly written and sloppily directed.

 

THE NAKED GUN (2025)

    Another week, another reboot.

    Thirty-seven years ago, David and Jerry Zucker and Jim Abrahams, following their surprise smash hit “Airplane!” (1980), adapted their cult-classic television satire “Police Squad!” to create in one of the most original movie comedies of the era.     

     The new version plays like one of the less-successful sequels, which grew less and less clever and more reliant on the bumbling idiocy of Lt. Frank Drebin, played to perfection by Leslie Nielsen.

      The difficulty in replacing Nielsen was probably one reason it took more than a generation to get this guaranteed money-maker back in theaters. Liam Neeson plays the son (don’t do the math!) of Drebin, doing his best to capture the clueless inept detective, but he tries way too hard, turning too many set-pieces into half-baked SNL-like skits. And, needless to say, the actor is a tad too old for the role at 73. Surely, they could have found an actor in his 50s (Josh Brolin, Daniel Craig, even Hugh Jackman would have been good candidates) and avoided what felt to me like Harrison Ford in another “Indiana Jones.” Nielsen, despite his snow-white hair, hadn’t hit 70 when the final sequel, “Naked Gun 33 1/3: The Final Insult” was released in 1994.

     One can’t help but smile when at the center of the film is an invention to rule the world called “P.L.O.T. Device.” But the idea of a wealthy megalomaniac (Danny Huston) determined to control humanity is so omnipresent in American films that it’s tired even in a satire. But it leads Drebin and his sidekick Ed Hocken Jr. (son of his namesake who was played by George Kennedy in the 1988 movie) to femme fatale Beth Davenport (Pamela Anderson) and a flurry of double entendres.

 

     As Hocken, Paul Walter Hauser, terrific in “I, Tonya” and “Richard Jewell,” disappears for most of the film, but Neeson and Anderson work well together (they apparently are a couple now). But again, the writers try too hard: There’s a long romantic sequence between the two of them and a snowman that is more creepy than funny.

     Co-writer and director Akiva Schaffer overloads the film with verbal and dramatic irony but can’t get around the paper-thin plot and Neeson’s stiff persona.

       And sadly, there’s only one, very fleeting, O.J. Simpson joke (he played the third detective Nordberg in the first trilogy). Were they worried someone would think a “Naked Gun” movie was tasteless?

 “Police Squad!” lasted just six episodes on ABC in 1982 but remains one of the most admired TV series of the era, scoring Emmy nominations for Nielsen and the writers. Filled with goofy sight gags and non sequiturs--a "Japanese garden" filled with Japanese people standing in plant pots; a mime playing charades to explain a kidnapper's demands; Tommy Lasorda getting pitching advice from a shoeshine boy--the show satirized the detective/cop shows of the 1960s and ‘70s.

       One of the highlights of every show was the introduction of the guest star followed by their quick demise. (Lorne Greene rolling out of a car after a drive-by; Florence Henderson gunned down in her kitchen.) The series opened the door for the more risqué and violence, all for laughs of course, sequences in the big-screen version.

  

CRIME IN THE STREET (1956)

    Judging by the motion pictures of the era, the only thing Americans of the 1950s worried more about than nuclear annihilation was teenage delinquency. Among the movies warning parents about their suddenly dangerous teens included “Rebel Without a Cause,” “The Wild One,” “Blackboard Jungle,” “The Delinquents” and “West Side Story” (knife-wielding dancers!).

     I had never seen “Crime in the Street” until it recently aired on TCM, but it actually is one of the more realistic, thoughtful looks at the phenomenon, superbly scripted by Reginald Rose, whose “12 Angry Men” is among the most insightful teleplays ever penned.

      John Cassavetes, a year away from his star-making role in “Edge of the City,” plays hot-headed Frankie, who’s angry at everyone he encounters and repeatedly ignores the overtures of a persistent social worker (James Whitmore). Living with his single mother (Virginia Gregg in an impressive performance) and his little brother, Frankie is happiest when he’s hanging with his gang (played by Sal Mineo and future director Mark Rydell) on the street corner.

      Near the end, Frankie’s mother offers an explanation of the family’s plight, delivered with the emotional gravitas of a scene from an Arthur Miller play. It’s the film’s high-water mark but the long scenes between Whitmore and Cassavetes are as heartfelt as anything in “Rebel” or “Blackboard Jungle,” despite its studio-bound sets.

      The movie solidified Don Siegel’s status as one of the most skilled directors of low-budget film, coming just a few months after “Invasion of the Body Snatchers.” By the 1970s, Siegel was among Hollywood’s top filmmakers with hits “Dirty Harry” (1971), “Charley Varrick” (1973) and “The Shootist” (1976), while serving as Clint Eastwood’s directing mentor.  

  

F1: THE MOVIE (2025)

      While it doesn’t measure up to recent car racing movies—“Ferrari” (2023), “Ford v Ferrari” (2019) or “Rush” (2013)—this Formula One tale offers an engaging neophyte vs. veteran story that smartly spends most of its time on the track.

      While the movie would have benefitted from a 30-minute trim, the casually charismatic presence of Brad Pitt sustains even the repetitive scenes of racing strategy, juvenile bickering and inspirational speeches. Clearly, director Joseph Kosinski (“Tron: Legacy” and “Top Gun: Maverick”) is most at home meshing CGI with high-speed stunts.

      (As a pointless aside, I hope someone can explain the film’s title: is the point to not confuse it with “F1: The Novel” or “F1: The Aftershave”?)

    In “The Movie,” Pitt plays Sonny Hayes, a driver whose career was short-circuited by a major crash that put him out of action for a decade, now drawn back into the sport by his long-ago mentor Ruben (Javier Bardem, despite, in real life, being six years Pitt’s junior). You’ve heard the dialogue between Sonny and Ruben in dozens of films as he tries to lure his aging protégé onto his team.

    This doesn’t go over well with Ruben’s No. 1 driver Joshua Pearce (Damson Idris, star of the FX series “Snowfall”), who is more interested in social media fame than finishing first on the track.

     The most interesting nonracing scenes are those between Sonny and the lead engineer of Ruben’s team, Kate McKenna, played with unpretentious command by Kerry Condon, who scored a 2022 Oscar nomination for “The Banshees of Inisherin.”     

     At this point in his career, Pitt, 61 but looking 45, doesn’t need much of a character to dominate a movie; in “F1” it’s as if Cliff Booth of “Once Upon a Time…in Hollywood” has taken up Formula One racing. (In actuality, director David Fincher is shooting a follow-up to Quentin Tarantino’s picture, focusing on Pitt’s character.)

     Though he’s been a movie star for decades, he’s grown into a more controlled, thoughtful actor starting with “Inglourious Basterds” (2009) and “Moneyball” (2011); I suspect his best work still lies ahead.

  

NO SUDDEN MOVE (2021)

      For the life of me, I can’t imagine why this well-written, atmospheric thriller filled with a nonstop twists and turns, written and directed by Steven Soderbergh, went straight to HBO/MAX after screenings at film festivals. (Can we blame COVID?)

      While Soderbergh’s films can become overly wordy and his characters too often exude unearned cool (his latest, “Black Bag” left me cold), “No Sudden Move” allows two of the best actors in the business, Don Cheadle and Benicio del Toro turn the hostage story into a character study.

     Del Toro’s Ronald Russo doesn’t hide his displeasure when he’s partnered with a black man (the film is set in 1950s Detroit), but a job’s a job. He and Cheatle’s Curt Goynes, fresh out of prison, are tasked by a mid-level mobster (Brendan Fraser) to take an accountant (David Harbour) and his family hostage, demanding he steal a highly secretive report concerning the auto industry. The plan goes by the book until the gang’s third man (Kieran Culkin) removes his mark in front of the family and complications start gumming up the works every time a gun is drawn.

     Few contemporary directors are more accomplished at keeping audience guessing about the direction of the plot while giving his actors plenty of room to become more than chess pieces. The film was written by Ed Solomon, best known for “Men in Black.”

    Del Toro and Cheadle, both perfect exemplars of “world weary” acting, constantly glance at each other with that “we’re too old for this crap” look. And they have plenty of support, with Jon Hamm as a corruptible cop, Ray Liotta as the man behind the plot and longtime character actor Bill Duke, who shows up in the last act looking for his cut.

      Soderbergh can’t resist bring in an overly talkative figure near the end to provide the complicated backstory, but the film survives it.

  

 PHOTOS:

The poster for "Carnegie Hall."  (Bel Canto Society)

Joaquin Phoenix in "Eddington." (A24)

 Paul Walter Hauser and Liam Neeson in "The Naked Gun." (Paramount Pictures)

Benicio del Toro and  Don Cheadle in "No Sudden Move."  (HBO/MAX)