A Thanksgiving Dinner with More Than Food Involved

From left: June Squibb, Beanie Feldstein,
Steven Yeun, Richard Jenkins, 
Jayne Houdyshell, and Amy Schumer in
"The Humans"
Photo Credit: RottenTomatoes.com

There isn’t a better to time than Thanksgiving for movie studio A24 to release its latest drama, “The Humans,” which is based on Stephen Karam’s 2016 Tony Award-winning one-act play of the same name. Taking place on the aforementioned holiday, it reflects the experiences of many families, in that each family has its own story, and within that are the individual stories of each member.  Any viewer can watch this story unfold and see themselves in at least one of the characters.

In his feature-directorial debut, Karam delivers an adaptation that captures the tense, sometimes haunting tone of his play to perfection, all in a story that will elicit laughs, tension, and tears.

On Thanksgiving, a young couple, Richard (Steven Yeun) and Brigid (Beanie Feldstein), host dinner at their Manhattan apartment in Chinatown for the latter’s family, which includes her father (Richard Jenkins), mother (Jayne Houdyshell, who won a Tony Award for originating the role), sister (Amy Schumer), and grandmother (June Squibb).  As the six of them spend the day together, they will face familial issues that begin to surface.

The whole cast provides terrific performances that play off of each other so, so well.  The way in which they interact paints them as a real family for whom you feel the love and thorns between them.  There’s a strong genuineness to how they act within the situation that the family is facing, making sure that there isn’t a false note in any of the performances.

Jenkins delivers the standout performance of the ensemble, portraying a father who tries to steer his daughters in the best direction that he sees, despite not doing so in the most tactful way.  He’s a father figure to whom we can relate in one way or another, and even if he might say or do the wrong thing, we know it all comes out of his love for his daughters.  There are small details as to why he’s like this, and they’re revealed sparingly throughout the duration of the movie.  It’s an emotional performance as you see Jenkins’ character trying to connect with his loved ones, but something always seems to be holding him back from doing the best that he can, making him look devastatingly alone in certain scenes.

Karam’s screenplay is able to cover everything that happens in the play, but even if you’ve read it, it all feels fresh because of how well you see it unfold as a movie.  Just like the source material, the screenplay takes a simple scenario like a family dinner and allows it to build upon little moments that soon lead into something bigger as everyone becomes more and more strained from being together.  We’re able to learn about each character and the different challenges that they face, which constructs a deep view into their lives that covers so much in a narrative timeframe that just lasts a day.

The title itself carries the connotation of something akin to a horror story.  With it just being called “The Humans,” it’s as if this is a narrative about beings that are meant to be feared and seen from a distance.  There’s a scene in the film where Yeun’s character mentions a comic book that he would read when he was younger about an alien species that told horror stories about humans, and what we have here is a movie that comes very close to that.  This is horror on an emotional level, the kind of emotions that people might sometimes experience during family gatherings. 

The cinematography by Lol Crawley frames the family in several different ways, whether it be watching them from another room; being in the same room as them, but from a distance; or having long takes that slowly zoom in on the characters.  This provides the movie with an observational view as we’re given the opportunity to examine these characters within the confines of the apartment.  Sometimes, the way in which the camera gradually zooms in is slow enough to the point where you won’t even notice that it’s been zooming in until you happen to look over at the edge of the screen and see things going out of the frame.

Given the way Karam and his cinematographer frame the apartment, we feel the textures and ambiance of the setting.  This duo refrains from making the movie feel stagy, providing this movie with a cinematic feel that shows Karam’s ability to transition from stage to screen.  Although the last shot of the movie is the only one that looks stagy, that’s not at all a bad thing.  The way in which it’s framed makes it one of the most impactful of the movie and highlights the notion of us being observers to the habitat of the humans at the center of the story.

Karam’s use of sound realizes the lifestyle of living in an apartment.  With noises such as footsteps of other tenants, water running, and lightbulbs going out, we’re given a firm sense of place as we travel around this apartment and become acquainted with every room.  Between the sound design, David Gropman’s claustrophobic production design, and the apprehensive discussions amongst the characters, Karam captures the anxiety-inducing feeling of being trapped with this group for the duration of the story (the whole play and movie take place in the apartment). 

A lot of us will be sitting down to holiday meals with family this season, but in between, take some time to join "The Humans" for a special cinematic dinner.

Grade: A

Approaching 30, a Hopeful Playwright Speeds Up His Strive for Success

Andrew Garfield in "Tick, Tick...Boom!"
Photo Credit: RottenTomatoes.com

There’s a moment in director Lin-Manuel Miranda’s musical drama, “Tick, Tick…Boom!” where playwright Jonathan Larson’s (Andrew Garfield) agent, Rosa Stevens (Judith Light), tells him to try “writing about what you know.”  While that advice would lead him to bring about the blockbuster musical, “Rent,” he would first use it to create a semi-autobiographical musical, which serves as the source material for Miranda’s film.  I didn’t know anything about Larson’s story before viewing this movie, but what I experienced was a story of success that was as heartbreaking as it was inspiring, a musical that bursts with tears and energy.

In 1990, Jonathan Larson is working as a waiter and living in New York City, all while worrying that his life isn’t going in the direction he wants, acknowledging that he hasn’t achieved his dream as his 30th birthday approaches.  Motivated by the sense of time racing by, Jonathan works day and night to find success on Broadway, all while trying to hold onto his relationship with his girlfriend, Susan (Alexandra Shipp), and losing friends to the HIV/AIDS epidemic.

Garfield exudes musical theatricality in one of his finest performances to date.  He displays a boundless vigor as we’re introduced to his character in the opening number, “30/90,” absorbing us right away in Larson’s journey.  Garfield inhabits the go-for-broke, nothing-will-stand-in-my-way commitment to reaching his artistic goal, but he also shows plenty of poignancy when he’s faced with having to choose whether to focus on his creative endeavors or focus on his loved ones.  We see that struggle as Larson tries to make everyone happy, creating a layer of sadness as he faces disconnections with those whom he loves.  This is a performance in a whole different field from what we’ve seen Garfield do before, and he captivates you with his Broadway-on-film talents.

The supporting characters that populate Larson’s life create an ensemble of beautiful performances.  As Larson’s girlfriend, Shipp portrays someone who, just like her boyfriend, is finding a challenge in maintaining their relationship in the middle of establishing a career in the performing arts.  Vanessa Hudgens and Joshua Henry, who portray Larson’s friends Karessa and Roger, deliver an exuberance that speaks to their experience as Broadway performers.  However, the standout is Robin de Jesús, who portrays Larson’s best friend, Michael.  Two of the best scenes in the movie are ones that involve de Jesús because he has such a powerful interplay with Garfield, and the passion that he uses in these scenes to try to get through to Garfield’s character will give you chills with how much emotion he can elicit in just these two scenes.

The screenplay by Steven Levenson has Larson performing “Tick, Tick…Boom!” as a frame story and goes between that and the main story of him trying to become an established playwright.  With us having the chance to see Larson’s musical performed, we witness how much of his experiences impacted the stories that he would tell on stage, going back to the notion of writing what you know.  Between Larson’s quest for musical greatness, the troubled relationships with those closest to him, and the backdrop of the HIV/AIDS crisis, we’re given enough time with each of these factors of Larson’s story to comprehend their significance in his life.  The dialogue and the songs provide a beautiful blend that give us an insight into what Larson’s experiencing and what he wishes to achieve, making this a wonderful story that celebrates artistic ambition, but doesn’t shy away from the heartbreak that comes along the way.

With this being Miranda’s feature-directorial debut, he channels his extensive Broadway history and makes it fit the cinematic format.  He collaborates with cinematographer Alice Brooks and editors Myron Kerstein and Andrew Weisblum, the former two of whom worked on the film adaptation of Miranda’s musical, “In the Heights,” earlier this year.  Through their combined work, they create stunning musical sequences that, while they play well at home, make me wish I had seen this film on a bigger screen.  That’s not to disparage movie, but is instead a compliment to the superb work that’s put into these scenes.  With the lyrical sequences like “30/90,” “Sunday,” “Therapy,” “Come to Your Senses,” “Why,” and “Louder Than Words,” you learn so much in terms of Larson’s life, as shown in a whirlwind of laughs and tears that Miranda presents as a testament to the thrill and power of theater.

“Tick, Tick…Boom!” is an exhilarating example of how, when it comes to time, all that matters is what you make of it.  And, no matter your age, the possibility for greatness is never out of reach.

Grade: A

A Reunion Between Two Friends Leads to Tension

Ruth Negga (left) and Tessa Thompson 
in "Passing"
Photo Credit: RottenTomatoes.com

The opening scene of actress Rebecca Hall’s feature directorial debut, “Passing,” follows its lead character as she walks into a hotel dining room to seek shelter for the sweltering heat.  While there, she comes across an old friend.  However, something seems off about this friend.  The deeper, heartbreaking reasons behind what’s occurring is explored in this story about racial issues in 1920s New York City.

Irene Redfield (Tessa Thompson) is a light-skinned African-American living in Harlem with her husband, Brian (André Holland), and their two sons.  One day, Irene reunites with Clare Bellew (Ruth Negga), an acquaintance with whom Irene grew up.  Just like Irene, Clare is a light-skinned African-American, but she chooses to pass as white.  While the two friends reconnect, they will also have to face the difficulties that come with denying your true identity.

Thompson provides a deep performance of someone who’s troubled by what Clare’s doing, while also trying to shield her children not only from the notion of passing, but also from the news of racial violence that their father tries to discuss with them.  Thompson shows an individual who wants to maintain the peaceful life that their family has built for themselves, but we see a melancholy in how she carries herself, always displaying a soft sadness in her voice as she tries to make sense of the environment around her.

Negga gives a performance that’s just as poignant as Thompson’s.  Negga has us believe at first that her character is content with what she’s doing, but soon, we see that even she has some doubts about how she’s living her life.  Between the radiant personality that Clare displays in front of others, we see slight hints of apprehension as she realizes how far into this she has gotten herself, and the happiness that she expresses earlier begins to come apart little by little, with Negga showing the quiet, emotional turmoil of what her character’s experiencing.

The screenplay by Hall, which is based on the 1929 novel of the same name by Nella Larson, offers the audience the chance to sit in on several discussions that the characters have, whether it be Irene and Clare talking about passing or Irene and Brian talking about whether or not to guard their children from news about racial cruelty.  With the movie only being just over 90 minutes, there are times where you feel like the story would benefit from a slightly longer runtime to go even deeper into the themes that it explores.  However, what we’re given still offers enough insight into the narrative’s messages, which is helped my the committed performances.

As a director, it’s admirable to see Hall take on a sensitive topic such as this for her first feature.  With gorgeous black-and-white cinematography by Eduard Grau that fits in with the time period of the ‘20s, as well as a slow jazz score from Devonte Hynes that’s also befitting to the period, Hall provides a feeling for the time and place in which the story happens.  Besides unfolding the story through those technical standpoints, Hall is also able to create a feeling of strain as the characters try to understand each other, while also having disagreements over certain topics.

Through its heart-rending characters and poignant story, “Passing” creates a portrait of what it means to live an easier life if it results in giving up who you are.

Grade: A-

When Home Doesn’t Feel Like Home Anymore, a Family Must Make a Tough Decision

From left: Caitríona Balfe, Jamie Dornan, 
Judi Dench, Jude Hill, and Lewis McAskie
in "Belfast"
Photo Credit: RottenTomatoes.com

When it comes to film directors, one of the most fascinating things that they can do with their work is reveal to their audiences events from their lives that influenced them to become visual storytellers.  With films like Alfonso Cuarón’s “Roma,” Joanna Hogg’s “The Souvenir,” and Lee Isaac Chung’s “Minari,” each of these movies provides the viewer with a powerful look into these filmmakers’ pasts and perspectives on life itself.

Writer-director Kenneth Branagh can now be added to this roster with his drama, “Belfast,” a heartwarming and poignant exploration of his childhood in the titular city.

The story takes place from August 1969 to early 1970 and follows Buddy (Jude Hill), a young boy in a working-class family who lives in Belfast with this mother (Caitríona Balfe), father (Jamie Dornan), and brother (Lewis McAskie).  As the conflict between Protestants and Catholics reaches a breaking point, Buddy’s parents will soon have to make a choice as to whether they should stay in their hometown, or find a safer life somewhere else.

Hill gives a spirited breakout performance of a child who has a deep love for his neighborhood and the bonds he’s made. Hill shows us a character who’s seen violence in the streets, but is still able to hold onto the innocence and fun of childhood. Between his interactions with his family, friends, and neighbors, Hill presents an outgoing and inquisitive individual.  This is a performance that shows an astounding amount of natural talent in Hill, exhibiting the maturity within a character who has to grow up quicker than he might have anticipated.

Balfe portrays a mother who’s torn between wanting a better life for her family and wanting to stay in the home that’s been a part of them. She shows the sternness of a parent who’s trying to protect her children and instill values in them. Between running a household and taking care of her children while their father is away, Balfe exhibits her character’s strength in making sure their children don’t get into danger.  With the work that Balfe does, we always see her character’s internal conflict as she tries to figure out what’s best for her family, and Balfe’s emotional performance won’t leave you anything less than riveted.

As Buddy’s soft-spoken father, Dornan shows a character who doesn’t wish to confront anyone, but will put up his fists to defend his family if any threat comes near them.  He gives his character an air of someone who has built up years of hard work to help provide for his family and will do what he can to make sure that a roof is kept over their heads.  However, Dornan’s character isn’t all about seriousness, as one of the most upbeat scenes of the film is when he sings Robert Knight’s “Everlasting Love” to his wife at a party, a sequence that shows a moment of lightheartedness that this couple deserves after experiencing the hardships that’ve come before.  

Judi Dench and Ciarán Hinds offer humorous performances as Buddy’s grandparents. Whether it be to offer Buddy advice or a laugh, Dench and Hinds are joyful to watch, offering a warmth to all of their scenes and making you feel optimistic in the tumultuous situations unfolding in their streets.

The screenplay by Branagh is a semi-autobiographical view of the years that he lived in Belfast, and it develops a story where you can feel the personal connection that Branagh has to that city, all while showing the deep love that he has for his family. He imbues the movie with the perfect amount of historical context to help us understand what’s happening around Buddy’s family, while also showing how the Protestant/Catholic conflicts are impacting his family in its direct way.  Whether it’s a poignant discussion between Buddy’s mom and dad on a bus, or Buddy becoming distressed when his parents reveal the possibility of moving, we see the emotional stress that’s placed on the family as they contemplate what to do.  However, between these scenes are uplifting moments where we see the family enjoying themselves, be it opening presents on Christmas morning or visiting a cinema to see “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang,” and it’s in moments like these where we see the solace that these characters find in each other, helping them get through the difficulties of what’s happening outside of their home.

The cinematography by Haris Zambarloukos, who’s a frequent collaborator of Branagh’s, offers beautiful black-and-white camerawork that highlights the feeling of going back in time to this era. The movie’s first few minutes are in color, showing a present-day Belfast. Then, the film transitions to black and white as we go back to 1969.  This is a fascinating use of black and white because, during the scenes where Buddy goes to a theater or a cinema, the images on the theater screen within the film, or the performers on the stage, are presented in color as Buddy and his family watch them.  It’s a heartwarming view of how such entertainments allowed them to escape for a while into something else, as well as an example of how film and stage influenced Branagh to become the immense talent that he is today.

From the opening scene, Branagh shows the harshness of the conflict between the Protestants and Catholics, making you feel the rumble in the streets as the opposing sides clash while the bystanders rush to safety.  Right away, we’re made aware of the dangers that are present, but this story isn’t just about the conflict. Outside of this, Branagh displays a loving view of the happiness that could be found in his childhood home in the moments between the chaos, creating a portrait of nostalgia that refrains from becoming overly sentimental, but is still heartwarming.

Through Branagh’s celebration of his family and native land, “Belfast” is a testament to how, whether you stay in or leave the home that you’ve come to know and love, you’ll always carry it with you, no matter what.

 Grade: A

On Leave from Prison, a Man Becomes a Prisoner of a Different Kind

Amir Jadidi in "A Hero"
Photo Credit: RottenTomatoes.com

I’m ashamed to admit that, before seeing writer-director Asghar Farhadi’s latest drama, “A Hero,” I hadn’t seen any of this other movies.  With acclaimed films like “A Separation,” “The Past,” and “The Salesman,” I heard of him being a celebrated filmmaker who has become a prominent voice in international cinema.  So, when I had a chance to catch a preview screening of his recent film, I figured this would be as good of a time as any to be introduced to his work.

And, what an introduction it was.  “A Hero” showed me the complex vision that Farhadi brings to his filmmaking in a morality tale that unfurls into something bigger than its characters could have expected.

Rahim (Amir Jadidi) is in prison for an inability to repay a debt.  During his sentence, he’s granted a two-day leave.  When he hands in a lost purse, a small lie in the aftermath soon creates a deep web of deceit that entraps Rahim and threatens to destroy his life.

Jadidi delivers a superb performance as someone who sort of bumbles his way through the events that unfold from his lie, but then begins to realize that he’s way in over his head in terms of handle it.  However, with Rahim’s financial and familial situations, Jadidi creates a character for whom you can’t help but feel sorry as he tries to keep everything on track.  He’s an endearing character because of how ordinary he is, and Jadidi sells the everyday nature of Rahim, rendering him relatable as we try to see ourselves in this precarious scenario and wonder how we would handle it.

The supporting cast has several superb performances from portrayals of characters who become caught up in Rahim’s lie, most notably Mohsen Tanabandeh as Bahram, Rahim’s debtor, and Sahar Goldoost as Farkhondeh, Rahim’s new girlfriend and confidante.  The whole supporting cast is able to match the uncertainty and stress that Jadidi experiences as the consequences of his lies close around them, and the strength of their work makes their characters every bit as intriguing as Jadidi’s. 

The screenplay by Farhadi isn’t necessarily a thriller, but the way in which he builds tension little my little as the web of lies becomes more complex peppers some understated thrills throughout.  With the amount of characters who get pulled into the ripples of the initial lie, there’s an enticing unpredictability as to how everyone will be effected by this event and how their involvement will shape the growing complications of what Jadidi has started.  

This is a narrative where, every time a new layer to the original lie is added, we spend enough time on it as we see how the effects from that layer will unfold.  The story shows the consequences of each lie, and the way in which the screenplay exhibits how each lie leads into another is a vivid display of how not telling the truth can spiral into something that can become impossible to control.

The cinematography by Ali Ghazi and Arash Ramezani captures the newfound, yet temporary freedom of Rahim in a long take of him exiting the jail as the camera frames him behind a fence, only to follow him as he appears on the other side.  This is then followed by a a shot that lingers on him as he walks amongst a construction site alongside some mountains, having the camera frame him against this backdrop as he walks further and further away into the openness of the region.  

Then, once we arrive to Jadidi’s series of lies, that freedom dissipates as we transition to scenes of him and other characters crowded in closed spaces, whether it be a room in a house or a shop, and the way in which these individuals are shown in these spaces heightens the concept of how the consequences of the lie are closing in on them little by little.

However, a standout moment in the camerawork is the final shot.  I won’t give anything away, but the way in which Ghazi and Ramezani use light and darkness creates a meditative, haunting, but somewhat hopeful conclusion that results in what may be one of the best closing shots of the year.  If you think this movie will give you much to discuss afterwards, this image solidifies that notion.

Farhadi provides terrific work in capturing the drama between Jadidi, his family, and other acquaintances, always giving audiences an idea of the simmering tension underneath, and then allowing it have an exposure that progresses throughout the film.  He creates a movie that’s both a family drama and a cautionary tale, intertwining the two into a complex character study of someone who not only tries to right his wrongs in a questionable way, but also realizes that what seems like a simple solution can lead to a difficult outcome.

Grade: A

For the Princess of Wales, a Holiday of Festivities and Scrutiny

Kristen Stewart in "Spencer"
Photo Credit: RottenTomatoes.com

The first few minutes of director Pablo Larraín’s new drama, “Spencer,” unfold with very little dialogue.  A group of military personnel arrives at Queen Elizabeth’s Sandringham Estate in Norfolk and do a safety inspection.  Upon finding that all’s clear, the servants and cooks enter the property with a similar military precision.  This establishes a portrait of how everything must go according to plan as the Royal Family begins their arrival.  However, one person is late: Princess Diana.

Not much later, there’s an overhead shot as her car pulls into the front courtyard, skirting around a section that looks like the crosshairs of a rifle.  What she anticipates is that she’ll be in just about everyone’s crosshairs for the next few days as she spends time with the rest of the Royal Family.  What happens during all of this results in a tense, emotional, visceral, and psychological view of what we imagine might have occurred during this brief period in Diana’s life.

The story follows a fictionalized account of Christmas weekend in 1991 as Diana (Kristen Stewart) tries to make it through three days of criticisms and deep-rooted traditions.

Stewart gives an astounding performance that hooks you into her character’s anguish.  Throughout the film, Stewart displays Diana’s feeling of being an outcast within her family, always looking like she’s in pain as she tries to hold herself up to their standards, but also wanting to free herself from the constraints that such a life imposes on her.  The inner pain that Stewart exhibits when playing Diana is to such a degree that we feel it while watching Diana traverse the hallways and watchful eyes of its inhabitants.  However, it’s not all despair and uncertainty that Stewart shows in her work.  While those moments are powerful, just as powerful are the moments where Diana feels like herself.  Between Diana’s interactions with her sons and the castle staff, Stewart shows how comfortable Diana is with people who aren’t judging her actions within the scope of what the rest of the royal family deems suitable.  Stewart makes us experience the relief that Diana feels when she can spend time with someone who isn’t explicitly or implicitly judging her, offering a reprieve from the suffocating nervousness that Diana feels.  This is a performance that must be seen, one where the performer sinks so far into the roll that they disappear.

With Stewart being an American actress amongst an all-European cast, this helps heighten the sense of disconnect that her character has with others.  Whether this was part of the casting decision or not, it works as an extra bit of genius behind the casting.

Among Stewart is a supporting cast where each person plays their part beside her with tremendous success.  There’s Jack Farthing as Prince Charles, who exhibits a palpable coldness towards Diana that chills the screen; Sally Hawkins as Maggie, the Royal Dresser who’s a comforting presence as Diana’s confidante; Sean Harris as Darren, the Royal Head Chef who offers a sympathetic ear to Diana when Maggie’s not around; and Timothy Spall as Equerry Major Alistair Gregory, who provides a haunting presence as he watches over the halls of the castle, but soon becomes an ally to Diana and offers her words of support.

The screenplay by Steven Knight offers a haunting view into what those three days in Diana’s life might have been like.  Even though most of the story is fictional, everything that happens feels like it could have taken place, such is the attention to detail that Knight provides his characters and setting.  With the dialogue between Diana, her family, and the castle staff, Knight provides a deep, psychological study of Diana.  Diana is pretty much in every scene, and Knight’s intense focus on her allows the audience to understand what she’s going through and how it’s impacting her mentality.

The cinematography by Claire Mathon offers intense closeups of Diana, giving us the experience of what it feels for her to be under the scrutiny of others.  The study of Diana’s character makes closeups like this essential so that we can see everything that passes through her face and eyes.  We don’t miss a thing, and neither does the camera.

Another standout factor of Mathon’s lensing is how she captures the interiors of the castle.  We have Kubrickian tracking shots between the palatial rooms and throughout the long hallways, and given the nature of what Diana’s experiencing, the way these settings are shown make them feel every bit as claustrophobic as they are spacious.

Part of what makes the apprehension in the film so tremendous is the music.  Jonny Greenwood creates one of the most intense scores of the year, one that helps build an unnerving atmosphere.  This is especially the case in the Christmas Eve dinner scene, where Diana feels as though she’s being suffocated by the silent criticism of others at the table as Greenwood’s score increases in volume through the duration of the sequence.

Just like what Larraín accomplished in 2016 with “Jackie,” he provides the audience with a chance to look at an iconic figure in a new, dreamlike way.  There’s an ethereal nature to how Larraín carries us through the film, setting a tone where reality feels a little distorted, which helps make this movie a unique view of a well-known individual.  From the performances to the imagery to the music, we become swept up in what may be the most distinct moviegoing experience that you’ll have this year.

Even though much of this movie is fiction, you’ll still walk out of “Spencer” feeling like you’ve been given a layered view into the mind beneath her crown.

Grade: A 

An Aspiring Fashion Designer Goes Through the Fabrics of Time

Thomasin McKenzie in "Last Night in Soho"
Photo Credit: RottenTomatoes.com

Writer-director Edgar Wright is best known for making several kinetic films that cover a wide variety of genres.  You have the western film “A Fistful of Fingers,” the zombie comedy “Shaun of the Dead,” the buddy-cop film “Hot Fuzz,” the sci-fi adventure “The World’s End,” the graphic novel adaptation “Scott Pilgrim vs. the World,” and the heist film “Baby Driver.”  Throughout his career, Wright has proven to be adaptable in telling a story, no matter the genre in which it takes place.

Until now, “Shaun of the Dead” has been Wright’s sole dealing with horror, so it was enticing to hear that he would be returning to the genre.  This time, it isn’t a horror-comedy, but the psychological-horror film, “Last Night in Soho.”  Despite some solid performances, the movie turns out to a rare disappointment from Wright.  

Eloise Turner (Thomasin McKenzie) is a young woman who moves from her rural home in Redruth, Cornwall and travels to London to study fashion.  One night, Eloise has a dream where she’s transported back to England’s “Swinging Sixties,” an era that she loves.  While there, she observes the goings-on of a hopeful singer named Sandie (Anya Taylor-Joy).  As Eloise keeps returning to the past, she discovers the disturbing secrets that are hidden there, which soon find their way into her present life.

McKenzie delivers a strong performance as someone who shows shades of optimism in her new life in London, but is also uncomfortable with the culture shock.  As the movie goes on, McKenzie displays the ache of being disillusioned by what she thought was an innocent era, which becomes even more potent as she begins to be plagued by hallucinations from terrors of the past.  We see her psyche unravel as Eloise enters further into the film’s central mystery, and McKenzie absorbs you in the franticness, fear, and increased detachment from reality that her character experiences as her dreams threaten to consume her.

Taylor-Joy has terrific screen presence as a character who can walk into a club and act like she owns the place, presenting a person whose confidence displays an engaging individual.  However, her arc becomes thematically linked with Eloise’s because, just like the latter, Sandie’s expectations of what she wants out of life are difficult for her to reach, and seeing her fall into unexpected hardships shows hints of tragedy as she tries to keep up her toughness, even when it looks like it could fall apart.

Along with the two leads are some memorable supporting performances, such as the late Diana Rigg, who plays Eloise’s stern, yet kind landlady; Matt Smith, who portrays Sandie’s sketchy boyfriend/manager; and Terence Stamp, who plays a mysterious older man who, somehow, always finds his way to Eloise.

The screenplay by Wright and Krysty Wilson-Cairns focuses on the theme of how people tend to romanticize the past, but the rest of the story isn’t quite as strong enough to support this enticing angle.  Nothing much happens for the first hour, as you’re left without many significant developments.  Although a standout aspect of the script is the thematic parallel of Eloise and Sandie’s arcs, the events that happen within their individual timelines become repetitive, leaving you in some frustration as you begin to wonder where the plot is taking you.  Then, by the time we arrive at one revelation in the last 15 minutes, there isn’t any further exploration into it before we soon get to the film’s bigger, and questionable reveal.

Despite the narrative shortcomings, Wright handles his latest foray into horror well enough for the first half of the movie in regard to the tone.  He provides disquieting settings as he explores the present-day London that doesn’t meet all of Eloise’s expectations, as well as in the much darker corners of 1960s London as Sandie encounters her own troubles.  His work with editor Paul Machliss, who collaborated with Wright on “Scott Pilgrim,” “The World’s End,” and “Baby Driver,” gives the movie the snappy editing that we’ve come to expect from Wright’s films and weaves between dreams and reality with fine effect.  And, the cinematography from Chung-hoon Chung delivers ethereal imagery as Eloise’s dreams unfold.  However, Wright goes a little too heavy into the horror elements for the second half, increasing them without much buildup and making this section of the narrative feel like it’s from a different movie.

Although Wright has given us several memorable films, his trip to Soho is just so-so.

Grade: C

In Wes Anderson’s Latest, He Delivers a Cinematic Newspaper

Bill Murray in "The French Dispatch"
Photo Credit: RottenTomatoes.com

Throughout director Wes Anderson’s career, he has brought a cheerful, whimsical style to his films that have given audiences one of the most distinctive visions in twentieth-first-century movies.  Even if you’ve arrived to the point where you might be turned off by the quirkiness of his films, you can’t deny that his stories have an overflowing of originality that’s difficult to ignore.

However, Anderson’s latest comedy, “The French Dispatch,” falls prey to him indulging too much in some storytelling elements, resulting in a film that's ambitious to a fault.

The story follows the titular newspaper as its staff works to assemble the latest issue out of its office in the fictional town of Ennui, France.  Within this frame narrative, we see three of the news stories play out: the first tells the tale of an imprisoned painter (Benicio del Toro); the second follows a reporter (Frances McDormand) who’s writing about a student revolutionary (Timothée Chalemet); and the third chronicles a food journalist (Jeffrey Wright) who assists the Ennui police commissioner (Mathieu Amalric) in rescuing his kidnapped son (Winston Ait Hellal).

The cast consists of many established actors and actresses.  While the leads in the stories (del Toro, Léa Seydoux, Adrian Brody, and Tilda Swinton in the first story; Chalamet, McDormand, and Lyna Khoudri in the second; Wright, Amalric, and Liev Schreiber in the third; and Bill Murray and Owen Wilson in the frame story) all have a good amount of screen time, you have cast members like Saoirse Ronan, Christoph Waltz, Edward Norton, Bob Balaban, Willem Dafoe, and Elizabeth Moss who all have very little material with which to work.  While it’s understandable that some might have more to do than others, the spectrum of screen time consists of two extremes: having a lot to do, and having barely anything to do.  This is one of the reasons why each story should have been its own movie, so that we can have more time with these characters.  Even the ones that have the most screen time feel like they’re shortchanged because of the brief nature of the three stories.  Anderson gathers his biggest ensemble ever, but many of those in attendance maybe get two minutes of screen time at the most, and for some of those cast members, that’s a generous estimate.

Anderson’s screenplay has a boldness to how it unfolds, with each act being a story within a different section of the newspaper, be it arts, politics, or cuisine.  However, we’re not provided with enough time with either one to make them impactful.  As mentioned before, any of the three stories within this film could have been a feature-length movie, given the plot material and how many characters there are.  Anderson tries to cram so much into each of these narratives and has the stories move at a pace that’s much too quick to appreciate everything that he includes, and this doesn’t provide the characters with a chance to evolve.  Even the frame story of the “French Dispatch” staff could have been a full-length movie.  There’s enough talent in each portion of this film, but to have them all fight for our attention in a 108-minute movie doesn’t quite work.

The film is also hindered by too much narration.  By overusing this technique, we’re not given the chance to hear the stories from the characters themselves; and, just like the limited time spent with them, this is another aspect that makes it difficult to connect with them.

Despite the issues with the story and characterizations, this film isn’t without a couple of technical accomplishments.  Robert Yeoman, who has done the cinematography for all of Anderson’s live-action films, provides the camerawork for this movie.  While the frame story is in color, Yeoman uses beautiful black-and-white cinematography to evoke the look of black-and-white in newspapers from back then.  But, in an additional creative touch, he employs color in shots where the characters’ senses come into play, such as when someone gazes upon a painting.  And, as is customary with Anderson’s movies, you have to marvel at the attention to detail that he bestows upon the environments that he presents us, thanks to the theatrical and lavish production design by Adam Stockhausen, who’s another past collaborator of Anderson’s.

While “The French Dispatch” may unfold like a newspaper, you’ll end up wishing you could have the leisurely experience of reading each story, instead of feeling like you’re skimming through the pages.

Grade: C