THE
FATHER (2020)
One of life’s great tragedies occurs after
you’ve been one of the lucky ones, having lived into your eighth decade, but
then your mind begins to slip away. Dementia muddles the past and the present,
alters one’s personality and leaves your family and friends heartbroken.
In shedding light on the affliction,
acclaimed French playwright Florian Zeller has done the seemingly impossible. In
“The Father,” he shows us the chaotic, jump-cut reality of a man suffering from
dementia, made unbearably real by 83-year-old Anthony Hopkins’ performance, a
shattering feat that caps this magnificent actor’s career.
Translated into English and adapted for
the screen by Christopher Hampton (“Dangerous Liaisons”) and directed by Zeller
(his first feature), “The Father” consists of a series of visits by daughter
Anne (Olivia Colman) as she tries to deal with her father’s erratic behavior.
For the father, also named Anthony, just trying to understand who’s who and why
they are in his house (there’s also Anne’s husband and a few caretakers) uses
up all his energy. Frustration, anger, confusion and helplessness are just some
of the emotions that this man shifts through each day as his life becomes a
haze of undefined moments. That Hopkins can bring this all to the role without
turning the character into a maudlin wreck is yet another reminder of the power
of great acting.
The film feels very much like a stifling,
one-set play but that’s exactly what’s called for. And adding much to the film’s
impact is production designer Peter Francis’ and director Zeller’s eye for
detail, allowing the audience to experience the way Anthony experiences his
surroundings.
Coleman, Olivia Williams and Imogen Poots
all give top-notch performances as touchstones of the world that Anthony has
lost a grip on, but this is Hopkins’ stage.
Though his reputation was earned in
London’s theaters, he’s left his mark on film, with excellent performances in
“84 Charing Cross Road” (1987), “Howards End” (1992), “The Remains of the Day”
(1993), “Nixon” (1995) and, of course, his Hannibal Lecter in “The Silence of
the Lambs” (1991), one of the cinema’s most memorable villains.
But in “The Father,” which won him his
second Oscar, Hopkins takes acting to another level, plumbing the depths of
what makes us who we are and how easily, and without notice, it can disappear.
JUDAS
AND THE BLACK MESSIAH (2020)
This incendiary look at Chicago’s Black
Panthers, a 1960s organization dedicated to improving the city’s poor community
through food banks and health centers, chronicles the unabashed war on the
group by the FBI.
J. Edgar Hoover (a scenery-chewing Martin
Sheen) ran the FBI from 1931 to 1973 as a white supremist organization, working
to crush the rights of all minorities, gays and lesbians and anyone left of
John Wayne, tolerated by president after president. He was especially
determined to crush every leader in the growing black power movement in the
1960s and high on his list was Fred Hampton, the 20-year-old chairman of the
Panthers.
Daniel Kaluuya (“Get Out”), who won a
supporting actor Oscar for the role, gives one of the year’s most memorable
lead performances as Hampton, this charismatic leader who somehow brings
together rival groups to protest against police brutality (he even makes overtures
to the local KKK). But at every turn, feds and local police treat the group as
subversive—the real possibility that African Americans might achieve equality
has the powers that be frightened to the core.
The Judas of the title is third-rate car thief
Bill O’Neal, played with jittery intensity by LaKeith Stanfield (“Sorry to
Bother You,” “Knives Out”), who attracts the attention of the bureau by
flashing a fake federal badge as part of his robbery scheme. Faced with jail time, O’Neal agrees to infiltrate
the Panthers and pass along info about Hampton’s activities to Agent Mitchell
(the always reliable Jesse Plemons).
O’Neal soon becomes a trusted member of
the group and part of Hampton’s inner circle, admired for his sincerity and determination.
Yet he keeps going back to the FBI.
Director Shaka King, who wrote the script
with Will Berson, manages to balance the parallel stories of Hampton and O’Neal
but finds difficulty in maintain the film’s tone and narrative flow as the
story jumps from episode to episode of the Black Panthers. It plays too much
like an extended trailer and the supporting players (not Kaluuya or Stanfield—I
have no idea what the Academy was thinking by putting them in that category)
never become distinctive enough to make an impact.
Yet these two fine actors and the dramatic
irony of the situation make for compelling drama, superbly shot by
cinematographer Sean Bobbitt.
The film is the perfect companion piece to
“The Trial of the Chicago 7,” as both offer a stark look at the fascist nature
of American law enforcement during that era and, sadly, are reminders that the
same fights are staged decade after decade with little results.
HELL
DRIVERS (1957)
Along with being a smartly written,
franticly directed off-beat film, this gritty British picture includes a
gallery of actors on the verge of stardom.
That took me by surprise as I watched it (on
TCM) because of its director, Cy Endfield (credited as C. Raker here), who went
on to make the classic colonialism war film “Zulu.”
Stanley Baker, a mid-century British star
best known for portraying villainous tough guys, plays a circumspect ex-con in
“Hell Drivers,” who talks his way into a job as a truck driver for a gravel
transport company that encourages rivalries among its employees. Driving like madmen all day from the gravel
mines to the drop-off in hopes of accumulating the most trips to win a bonus,
the drivers are one sharp turn away from a fatal smashup.
Baker’s Tom has his eye on the flirtatious
company secretary Lucy (Peggy Cummins, who played the tough-talking,
sharp-shooting bank robber in the film noir classic “Gun Crazy”) while
competing for the top driver’s spot with Red, a vicious bully played by Patrick
McGoohan, just a few years away from becoming a household name in the TV series
“Secret Agent” and “The Prisoner.”
The cast also includes Herbert Lom (the
future nemesis of Peter Sellers in the “Pink Panther” series), as an Italian
driver who befriends Tom; Jill Ireland (future American TV actress) as a tavern
waitress; David McCallum (the future IIlya Kuryakin in “The Man from
U.N.C.L.E.” who married Ireland after meeting on “Hell Drivers”) as Tom’s
brother; and Sean Connery (I think you know what become of him) as one of the
drivers.
Despite all the famous faces, Endfield is the
real star, staging, with great assist from master cinematographer Geoffrey
Unsworth (Oscar winner for 1970s films “Cabaret” and “Tess”) some of the most
intense, nail-biting truck driving scenes you’ll ever see. The director also
creates an explosive, hot-house atmosphere in the local tavern where the
drivers drink and fight.
The script, which Endflied co-wrote with
John Kruse, whose short story is the source material, was nominated for a
British Oscar; it doesn’t pull any punches in both its portrayal of men pushed
to their limit and the resulting sadistic violence.
Endfield and Baker continued to work
together, in action films, “Sea Fury” (1958) and “Jet Storm” (1959) and then in
“Zulu” (1964) and “Sands of the Kalahari” (1965). Also, don’t miss Endfield’s “Mysterious
Island,” featuring a giant chicken along with Lom as Captain Nemo.
BAD
EDUCATION (2020, TV)
After spending the last 10 years as a high
school journalism adviser, I savored this story of a plucky student reporter
who uncovers financial fraud at the highest levels of a Long Island school
district.
But as a movie, made for HBO, “Bad
Education” barely qualifies for a C.
Hugh Jackman plays the superintendent of
the district, Frank Tassone, who has quickly turned the district and its high
school into one of the top schools in New York; a leader who is loved by
parents, teachers and students.
But that was before Rachel Bhargava
(Geraldine Viswanathan) speaks to a dismissive assistant superintendent (the
always superb Allison Janney) about a school construction bond measure about to
be voted on. Vismwanathan has that flat-affect look of so many teens down pat as
she starts digging into what she suspects is questionable bidding process. It’s
not long before a million-dollar embezzling scheme is unearthed by the
relentless young journalist (in real life, Rebekah Rombon, now working in
education.)
Jackman’s performance as Tassone, which
scored him an Emmy nomination, never finds that balance between tragedy and
comedy. I kept waiting for him to react as his world crumbled around him, but
he never did. Probably more to blame is the screenplay by Mike Makowsky (who
was a student in the district when this all went down), which seemed to me about
two rewrites away from working.
Janney, at her frenetic best, hits the
mark, especially in dealing with her sponging extended family. She understands
satire.
Director Cory Finley (“Thoroughbreds”) lets
the movie jumps around so much--from Tassone’s personal life (he’s secretly
married and living in New York City) to Bhargava’s investigation to the school
board’s reaction—that the impact of his comeuppance is deflated.
To someone who worked in education, it
also seemed unlikely that a student reporter could gain access to the
superintendent office and that he would even know who she was. (In 10 years, I
doubt the district has responded to my students’ emails or phone calls more
than twice.) It was as if Tassone was serving as a principal, not
superintendent. While that seems like nitpicking, to me it was distracting.
Nevertheless, it’s inspiring to see high
school journalism triumph while the adults in the room were cheering the
criminals.
THE
WHITE TIGER (2020)
The most beloved English-language film
about contemporary India remains the 2002 best picture winner “Slumdog
Millionaire,” a feel-good story of a lower caste young man gaining fame and riches
through a game show. I’ve seen harder-hitting movies on the Hallmark Channel. “The White Tiger” serves as a dramatic
correction to “Slumdog.”
This unrelentingly sarcastic look at the obscene
wealth gap follows Balram’s (Adarsh Gourav) rise from the depths of poverty to
the trusted driver of the Americanized son of an Indian crime boss. Balram,
though working for Ashok (Rajkummar Roa) and his flashy girlfriend Pinky
(Priyanka Chopra), both of whom clumsily attempt to treat him well, still must
kowtow to the big boss, Stork (Mahesh Manjrekar). Balram seems honored to
perform whatever duty the family requests.
Not until a late-night celebration with
Ashok and Pinky turns ugly and Balram must take the blame, does he finally see
how expendable he is in their world. He soon is devising other plans.
The movie, from the prize-winning novel
by Aravind Adiga, is deftly adapted and directed by Ramin Bahrani (best known
for “99 Homes” and the 2018 TV adaption of “Fahrenheit 451”). In a rare example
of voice-over narration working, the director has Balram’s running
commentary—from a future perspective—through the film, which ranges from humble
naivety to self-serving excuse making.
Too
many American-made pictures about other cultures and their expatriates try so
hard to be solicitous and upbeat that they come off as believable as a TV
sitcom. By resisting that temptation, “The White Tiger” makes important points
about all societies while being one of the year’s most entertaining pictures.
MINARI
(2020)
This story of a Korean American family
moving to rural Arkansas plays like the first act of a much more interesting,
involving screenplay. It reminded me of those pastoral, 19th Century
novels in which the early struggles of a family pay off before tumultuous
tragedy strikes.
Nothing that dramatic happens in “Minari,”
other than its support from the Academy voters, awarding it nominations for
best picture, best director, best screenplay and two acting nods. Oscar voters
saw something I didn’t.
Jacob (Steven Yeun of TV’s “Walking Dead”)
follows his dream of becoming a farmer, much to the distress of his wife Monica
(Yeri Han), who is more concerned with their young son’s heart ailment,
lamenting the “hillbilly” life.
As Jacob struggles to raise his crops, the
script focuses on the relationship between son David and the grandmother
(Oscar-winner Yuh-Jung Youn), who he immediately rejects as not a “real
grandma.” She’s feisty and livens up the otherwise stoic film, but, even in
this pandemic shortened movie season, doesn’t even make my Top 5 of supporting
actresses.
To me, the outstanding performances of the
film was given by Han, whose character must deal with, emotionally and
rationally, the self-centered decisions made by her husband.
And just in case you forgot you were in
the American south, a religious fanatic (Will Patton), who befriends the
family, walks down a dirt road every Sunday carrying a large wooden cross.
SOUL
(2020)
The latest Oscar-winning animation from
Pixar starts out promising (if I had a dime for every movie I’ve said that about)
as a middle school music teacher earns a shot to play piano with a well-known
jazz saxophonist at a local club.
Joe Gardner (voiced by Jamie Foxx),
frustrated with teaching and hoping to prove himself a first-rate musician,
heads off to the gig only to….well, there’s no easy way to say this, fall into
a manhole and die.
Needless to say, he’s not too pleased to
find himself on the escalate to heaven and does his best to escape the
inevitable. After much cajoling with various after-life executives, he finds
himself assigned to prepare the unborn for life on Earth, drawing a
disagreeable soul, No. 22 (Tina Fey). Meanwhile, he’s still holding out hope
that his “death” can be reversed.
It’s at this point that the film turns
into every other comedy with a message, animated or not, as Joe and 22 rush
from adventure to adventure, an exhausting and pointless exercise in
how-can-we-stretch-this-idea-into-a-full-length-feature.
Apparently, this is the first major
animated film with an African American protagonist and the first featuring jazz
music. While I applaud the effort, there just isn’t much to this film, which
takes forever to get to its inevitable life lesson. And along the way, there
isn’t even much jazz to make it tolerable.
