Few recent movies I've seen have instilled a greater sense of dread than Hereditary. The debut film of director Ari Aster, Hereditary looks like a modern horror film in the Blumhouse Style (this was distributed by A24), yet at the same time wisely uses tropes from the 1970s, especially Rosemary's Baby and The Exorcist. The sense of dread also recalls an Ingmar Bergman film, Through A Glass Darkly comes to mind. While not without flaws, it proves a horror movie can still send out chills. I would never call Hereditary a fun experience (The Shining is fun), but a compelling one that will touch some raw nerves. A nuclear family meltdown of the first degree.
Toni Collette stars as Annie, an artist with a husband and two kids. The story begins with Annie delivering her Mom's eulogy, a mother with whom she was estranged for most of her life. She speaks of her mother being a private person, hinting at a history of mental illness. Her son Peter (Alex Wolff) appears carefree and likes to smoke pot, but the daughter Charlie (Milly Shapiro) is deeply troubled. Gabriel Byrne, always a welcome presence, plays the supportive husband Steve.
Without going into further plot details, an awful tragedy occurs at about the 30 minute mark and everything goes downhill from there. There's a multi-dimensional horror to Hereditary: the fear of death, the dull pain of grief, disconnection from loved ones, inheriting the sins of the past - not even taking into account the supernatural elements that are introduced.
Hereditary runs over 2 hours, yet never feels overlong, and at the same time you want it to end. These characters are going through misery and it's hard to watch at times. Yet there's a sly humor that comes at the most unexpected of times The performances are excellent, especially Toni Collete. Aster's direction is steady and methodical, avoiding those annoying jump scares, often holding back and just letting things happen.
Hereditary is as close to modern horror epic we are likely to get. Enter with caution.
Joaquin Phoenix stars as troubled contract killer Joe in Lynne Ramsey's harrowing You Were Never Really Here. Blurbs have made the film out to be a 21st Century version of Taxi Driver and while there are similarities, Never Really Here stands on its own as a pulpy modern story zigzaging through a fractured chess board.
A former soldier and FBI agent, Jeff makes a living breaking up sex trade rings, gaining a reputation for brutality towards those who exploit children. Joe also cares for his elderly Mom who has early stage dementia. In one scene have an amusing exchange on Psycho. After completing a job in Cincinnati, Joe returns to New York and gets a new assignment that involves the teenage daughter of a politician.
From the get go, it's clear the assignment is different from the others. The film morphs into a paranoid thriller. Joe's an enigma throughout, a credit to Phoenix's committed performance (we would expect nothing less - arguably the best working actor today). Not necessarily a vigilante, he's more of a grungy superhero with a history of trauma. Joe's life mission is to end the torment of others, with the possibility of ending his own internal misery.
Ramsey's economical direction and bare knuckle editing keep the running time to a sparse 90 minutes. The violence is never stylized, the emphasis is on the aftermath. There's no exorcising bloodletting in the style of Taxi Driver. We're told just enough to keep the story from spiraling into narrative incoherence, it's all movement and action, an effect enhanced by Jonny Greenwood's score.
Greenwood's music is a striking contrast to his period work on Phantom Thread. Here the score moves from pulsating rhythms to classic orchestral, crafting a hypnotic sense of dread. From top to bottom, all the elements of film making come together in You Were Never Really Here.
Except for one minor thing. In Taxi Driver, screenwriter Paul Schrader allowed us to get inside the psychology of Travis Bickle. But Joe remains an unknowable monolith. He may be fighting a losing battle, but he fights nonetheless. Is it all an excuse to be brutal for a good cause or a modern day shepherd protecting the weak?
So we now have the Nashville of superhero movies, a film with way too many characters taking part in a half baked allegory. The best of Infinity Wars is the sheer scale of its ambition, rarely seen since the heyday of Cecil B. Demille. Unfortunately there's little in the way of substance, costumed creators are simply thrown together in a strange brew of screwball comedy and baroque comic book movie era set pieces. The big reveal is that Infinity War is more about the super villain Thanos (Josh Brolin) who appears to be unstoppable.
Watching the film I kept thinking of Patton Oswalt's rant from Parks and Recreation that went viral a few years ago, a story pitch that would involve the Star Wars and Marvel Universes, a fever dream of high geekdom (also see Ready Player One). That's Infinity War.
The first half features fun banter, but it devolves in the second half into endless fighting and ludicrous plot contrivance. Plot summary defies logic, all dealing deal with six "infinity" stones that contain all the forces of the universe. Thanos is after them. That's the movie.
Infinity War is all about the moment, the parts are way more than the sum. In music terms, consider Infinity War an epic triple album that's partly high entertainment cinema, middle of the road cinema, and throwaway cinema.
Robert Downey Jr. as Iron Man steals his scenes as usual, Captain America (Chris Evans) seems out of his depth, Black Panther (Chadwick Boseman) is too cool for this movie, Black Widow (Scarlet Johansson) appears weary, Thanos (Josh Brolin) is a banal villain, Dr. Strange (Bendict Cumberbatch) conjures up impotent spells, Thor (Chris Hemsworth) and Hulk (Mark Ruffalo) are happy just to be there. The Guardians crew make a forced appearance.
Every character is stretched so thin, proving why the solo Marvel movies tend to work best. As Black Panther proved, those stories allow for more depth and creativity. Sorry for the second music analogy, but it's as if there were way too many guitar heroes on the stage maneuvering for a solo. Where's Prince when you need him?
And then there's the last ten minutes, perhaps the most haunting conclusion ever in a superhero movie outside of Christopher Nolan's Batman trilogy. For a fleeting moment It does appear the world as we know it is coming to an end, leaving you shaken and queasy. We know more movies are in production until 2099, but it's one of the great kiss offs in movie history. Some movies are worth watching for the off the wall ending - file Infinity War under that category.
Game Night is smart enough to be compelling for its 90 minute run time. Jason Bateman and Rachel McAdams star as a good natured couple Max and Annie, who host weekly game nights, usually clean fun with traditional board games like Risk and Life. When Max's older and more successful older brother Brooks (Kyle Chandler) arrives for a visit, game night amps up a few levels. Through a night of misadventures, which may or may not be part of the game, some hilarity and occasionally gruesome humor goes down. As a comedy version of the 1997 David Fincher film The Game, Game Night's tone gets a bit wobbly at times. The shift into action movie parody comes off as ridiculous, but the cast is likable enough to make all the madness fun. A combined parody and celebration of the sheer boredom of life, Game Night is not a bad way to pass 90 minutes.
The Death of Stalin combines Seinfeld style hijinks, Godfather level intrigue, and soul crushing historical tragedy.
Josef Stalin died in 1953 and the film chronicles the power struggle among the Central Committee of the Soviet leadership. Steve Buscemi gives the performance of his life as Nikita Khrushchev, the Party member who eventually emerged as the Premier of the Soviet Union. The film begins with Khrushchev joking about a mass execution he once witnessed. He's neither the smartest, nor the most intimidating, yet finds the dexterity to triumph.
Khrushchev's competitors are Georgy Malenkov (Jeffrey Tambor), basically Stalin's stooge, and Beria (Simon Russell Beale) who ran the Secret Police (NKVD) and committed many crimes against humanity.
When Stalin dies unceremoniously of a brain hemorrhage, his cronies struggle over what to do with the body in Marx Brother type shenanigans. They cannot find a doctor since all the good ones were executed for disloyalty! Then the intrigue begins.
They all acknowledge Stalin was a tyrant, yet all were accomplices in his reign of terror. All realize the new leadership must emphasize reform and repairing all the damage left in his wake. They know getting the support of his children's important, who are brilliantly played by Rupert Friend and Andrea Riseborough.
As the shaky transition of power begins, they plan the funeral (a task that falls to Khrushchev) which allows for endless gallows humor straight out of Duck Soup.
It's a comedy Voltaire would appreciate, power appears absurd and terrifying. The Death of Stalin ends with a horrifying execution as the schemers crack jokes and joyfully watch their nemesis suffer, daring the audience to laugh with them since the victim was an awful person in the first place. Few films outside of Dr. Strangelove can achieve such sublime moments.
Judd Apatow's five hour documentary about his mentor, groundbreaking comedian Garry Shandling who passed away in 2016, is based on Shandling's own journals he kept over several decades. The film is never boring nor an overly laudatory portrait. In contrast to many biographical docs, Apatow makes his subject enigmatic and compelling.
Shandling was part of a new wave of comics that came up in the 1970s, shaped by the counterculture and the rebel comedians of the post-war era. His observational brand of humor was innovative and influential. A favorite of Johnny Carson, Shandling made a splash on The Tonight Show after years of struggle. A car accident early in his career led him down a spiritual path, a road that witnessed success, betrayal, and disappointment.
By the late 1980s Shandling was next in line to replace Johnny Carson, while also producing a cult TV show It's The Garry Shandling Show (1986-1990), known for deconstructing the sitcom. The Larry Sanders Show (1992-98) was the ultimate post-modern look at television with Shandling playing a fictional (and narcissistic) late night talk show host. Afterwards, he struggled to find his footing with a stalled movie career and a failed relationship. In later years he took solace in mentoring young comedians and pursuing new challenges such as boxing.
The Zen Diaries asks the big questions about life, most importantly, how one should live? Should you simply find a niche and ride that wave? Or always seek out new challenges? Shandling never followed the same path and often paid the price for it. His comedy played on his various neuroses, much of it stemming from a childhood trauma, the loss of his older brother.
Many comedians appear and offer their memories of Shandling, making The Zen Diaries a warm tribute to comedy. Scholars of comedy history will devour this film, and for those unfamiliar with Shandling's body of work, the documentary will make for an excellent introduction, a documentary handled with great care and chock full of laughs.
Although Ready Player One can sometimes feel strained and self indulgent, there's enough visual artistry to induce a hypnotic (or tranquilizing) effect. The year is 2045 and the world's in a quasi-dystopia. Extreme poverty and housing shortages are offset by the Oasis, a virtual reality world where people pass the time in fantasy. The Oasis is the ultimate bliss out.
The first part of Ready Player One doesn't even feel like a Spielberg film, shot more in the style of George Lucas and the Wachowskis. Few Spielberg films have been so open about his influences. Although it gets off to a slow start, a meaning and logic builds as the film unfolds.
Tye Sheridan stars as Wade, a typical kid obsessed with the computer programmer legend Halliday (Mark Rylance) who created the Oasis, possibly based on Bill Gates, much more so in the novel. Before passing away, Halliday promised a bright future to anyone who could find the three keys hidden in his virtual world. He teams up with Samantha (Olivia Cooke) who bears a resemblance to 80s icon Lea Thompson who starred in Back to the Future. In time, others join the team in a Matrix/Wizard of Oz quest.
Some of the set pieces work, while others drown you in CGI labyrinths. A car race plays like an homage to the work of George Lucas, more THX-1138 than Phantom Menace. A parody of The Shining is by far the most stunning set piece. As Ready Player One moves closer to the climax it starts to feel more like a Spielberg film, echoes of E.T. and the Indiana Jones, even The Sugarland Express.
Mythmaking is the central theme in Ready Player One. What do we remember? Why do we remember it? The digital world of 2045 is all about the 1980s. It was a decade ruled by Spielberg, the wunderkind director of the 1970s, rose to a position of trendsetter in the Eighties. We're now in a cultural moment that longs for the Reagan era. Was it the sense of having avoided a nuclear war? Fond memories of Reagan, a likable president? Or was it the sweet spot decade, before technology began to rule every aspect of life? Does it just look cooler now?
It's fair to say we're now in the late era of Spielberg's career (although Clint Eastwood hit a stride in his 70s) so that makes Ready Player One a movie that will be closely analyzed. There's a sense of finality to it, as if he will never revisit the special effects extravaganza terrain again. All of his usual themes are present, a rehash of a rehash, adding a hint of sadness to the whole enterprise. Just as aging Star Wars fans felt betrayed by The Last Jedi, Spielberg's telling us we'll never know the sense of wonder of his earlier work. But we can think of new possibilities in cinema.
Always in tune with changing audience tastes, Spielberg has made his most special effects heavy, unabashedly CGI intense movie. Yet there is still meaning and irony because the story's old fashioned. It's a hopeful film in the end; environments, technologies, economies all shift, but the human need for stories and narrative will never go away.
