An unexpectedly boring blunder that proves to be the biggest cinematic disaster of the year, the atrocious The King’s Man kills any goodwill for a franchise already on its last legs.
Jóhann Jóhannsson’s Last and First Men is a meditative journey of sound and human experience
A long time coming, this surreal, ambient music-filled journey into the minds of humans far into the future, throws us into Jóhann Jóhannsson’s vision of the world. You see, this will be his first, and only, film in the director’s chair; he passed away far too young in 2018 before he could see its widespread release. With Tilda Swinton’s calm, yet emotionally distant monotone narrating, we embark on a free fall into Jóhannsson’s vision of what we as a race will be like and what we’ll be doing over a billion years in the future.
Spider-Man: No Way Home is for lovers of Spider-Men
The holidays are traditionally a time for reflection, wish fulfillment, gluttony, and reliance on the tremendous power of nostalgia to paper over the messier parts of reuniting with friends and family after time spent apart. So it’s likely in that spirit that I came away from my viewing of Spider-Man: No Way Home in a jubilant fog of appreciation for what might be characterized as an over-stuffed buffet of fan service. Based on the rampant speculation in the lead-up to the film’s release, had this latest installment in the Spider-Man Cinematic Universe been nothing but a live-action version of that Spider-Man GIF, Dayenu. But it was so much more and I loved almost every minute of its excess.
Paolo Sorrentino reaches into his past with The Hand of God
Paolo Sorrentino’s feverish work in Il Divo and both The Young (and New) Pope have utterly dazzled me; so at first The Hand of God at first felt like a huge change of scale. Dialing back from the recent operatics, he confronts the other end of the lifespan from his Oscar-winning La grande bellezza, to give us a closely-observed family drama that’s also a tender ode to his cinematic influences. It may seem smaller than the grand sweep of the Italian mafia or the vast questions of faith and power at the head of the Catholic Church. But reflection, I suppose there is no bigger story than the one about how you became who you are.
With Nightmare Alley Guillermo del Toro masterfully crafts a noir thriller overflowing with atmosphere
Even as it may not see the director make use of monsters or creatures, Guillermo del Toro’s Nightmare Alley is characteristically strong work from the auteur that revels in the darkness of its noir origins.
Drive My Car is the year’s best three-hour commute
Where other directors might try to compress a sprawling novel into a feature film, Ryusuke Hamaguchi’s three hour long adaptation of a short story is the definition of patience rewarded. For me, nothing has better replicated the feeling of being completely enveloped by Haruki Murakami’s (translated) prose quite like Drive My Car, with the substantial benefit that his rendering comes without the unpleasant surprise of the squicky and ghosty elements that the novelist is so fond of exploring. I admit to being wary of the long running time when I queued up the screener, but by the end I began to worry that each minute would be the last.
Being the Ricardos is a fun, but flawed, trip down memory lane
Being the Ricardos purports to tell the story of Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz during a particularly eventful week in their lives. The tabloids reported (accurately) that Lucy was a Communist at one time and that Desi (also accurately despite his denials) is a philanderer. They also try to convince CBS to allow a storyline about Lucy’s pregnancy on the show despite the pearl-clutchers in senior management and at primary sponsor Phillip Morris.
Red Rocket is a thrillingly squirmy ride on the Simon Rex Express
Sean Baker’s enduring interest in the frequently-overlooked lives of ordinary struggling Americans, especially those who make ends meet with sex work, continues with Red Rocket. But here, he drops a golden god and his giant schlong among them as an instigating agent of mischief. Simon Rex returns from his long slumber as Mikey, the physically “blessed” anti-hero who long ago left Texas City for the bright lights of Los Angeles’s adult film scene. It turns out that his pledge to “leave and never look back” has an expiration date. After decades away during which he ascende the heights to an award-winning (“Best Oral”) film career, he, like so many stars before him, has been chewed-up, spit-out, and returned to the life he once fled.
Steven Spielberg’s West Side Story is spectacular
With his last two films being the perfectly adequate Ready Player One and the wholly unnecessary The Post, I had forgotten how remarkable of a filmmaker Steven Spielberg can be when he’s working on the right project. Remaking a movie musical from fifty years ago that is as close to perfect as a non-Bob Fosse musical can be might seem daunting in a lesser filmmaker’s hands, but nearly everything in West Side Story felt like it hit exactly as it should. Spielberg’s version of this legendary film doesn’t so much surpass the original, a near impossibility, but runs parallel and that pays tribute to and complements its source marvelously.
End of Us exudes a charming nostalgia none of us ever wanted
Leah and Nick are at the end of their rope. Nick is a starving actor relying on the steady income and stability that Leah adds to his life. She’s just about ready to cut the cord on him and the relationship when the pandemic hits and they’re literally stuck with each other. Even in the early days of COVID, the fear and intensity of the moment didn’t seem to distract from the frustration of being with someone they couldn’t stand and we’re taken along for the ride. They traverse the murky waters of isolation and uncertainty in a bubble of their own drama where both of them make questionable decisions, but seem to find a way to accept the humanity in one another.