Bugonia

Well, they never showed that on the history channel. Those of us who are well-versed in the various themes of paranormal paranoia will have little trouble navigating this narrative, but I suspect many others will find this story to be a real head-spinner, possibly so much so that it may take them out of the movie. If one focuses on the dynamics of the performances, that should steady the metaphorical ground under the viewer’s feet—and that is a good strategy, given that the verbal and emotional duel between Emma Stone and Jesse Plemons forms the core of this movie’s appeal. Admittedly, there isn’t a lot else to work with here, as the film is a study in interiority, but the leads do such a good job of giving their characters life, detail and plausibility that you can ignore the bits of the plot that are clearly telegraphed and the ones that don’t entirely add up. (You'll be helped in that if you don’t have a rigidly logical mind, and most people don’t). So, good acting, a brisk pace, and a tolerable amount of preachiness add up to a solid cinematic trip—whether you’re of this earth or not. 

Sinners

There’s an old saying: a point in every direction is no point at all. I heard that saying echoing in my mind as I watched this film. I’m not really sure what this movie wants to be. A horror show? A study of race relations? An ode to music? A period piece? Crime drama? Yes, it’s all those things, but trying to do too much can make a muddle. So we have here, to a minor extent, though to be fair the story at its core never loses coherence; you don’t get lost in this narrative. There is one other problem: the gimmick of having Michael B. Jordan play dual roles means that it can be difficult to tell if you’re watching the character Smoke or Stack in crucial moments. Having said all that, there’s much to admire here, too. The performances are splendid all around, and the cinematography is absolutely gorgeous throughout. And most of the music is wonderful, too, though occasionally the attempts at genre cross-pollination detract rather than add to the tableau. So certainly, this is a fine movie and worthy of praise—I just wish people would let it rest at that, rather than go overboard and declare it to be the greatest thing that ever happened in the history of movies, if not humanity. When we commit that sin, it really does make one want to sing the blues. 

Nobody 2

See, these people understand one of life’s fundamental principles: violence is always the answer. Conflict inevitably follows one of two paths: resolution or escalation. And this story decidedly leans towards the latter. Bob Onenkirk’s Hutch is a man who simply can’t avoid escalation, even when he wants to, and that produces both some rumination on the nature of one’s being, and a metric ton of cinematic carnage of the mostly amusing type. The proceedings don’t start out particularly promising, but soon enough the mayhem starts, and it includes not just an orgy of entertaining terrible things—or, perhaps, terribly entertaining things—but also some laugh-out-loud visual humor. The family angle plays well enough, but it never gets in the way of Hutch throwing down in his creative and oddly indestructible way. Christopher Lloyd provides able if limited support as the grandfather who got this train rolling, Connie Nielsen starts out as a long-suffering wet blanket but eventually rallies to stand tall and enjoy some mayhem of her own, and Sharon Stone gives one of the most scenery-chewing performances ever committed to media (before the scenery gets blown up, that is). It’s not a great movie by any measure, but this flick does exceed expectations and entertain the audience, especially so for a sequel. And who can resist that? Well, you know… 

The Fantastic Four: First Steps

Maybe if this film had been made and released two decades ago, before the entirety of the superhero splurge, I might have watched it thinking, wow, they really made something amazing here. But we cannot undo these things we’ve done, as someone once said, and the effect of having seen superhero group after superhero group after superhero group save the world again and again and again cannot be easily nullified. As it is, no amount of interesting conceptual design, or nostalgic kicks, or even just plain, good storytelling and performances, can get this work to break through against all that has come before it and lead the viewer to anything more than mild appreciation, to a diminished admiration that battles against a flattened sense of what a movie like this is supposed to be. It’s fine, really; all of the above mentioned elements are well done, and if you’d never seen another entry in the genre you’d probably rave about this one. But few of us out here are infants without prior experience, so the impact of this iteration is very much dulled. More standard than fantastic. 

Wicked: For Good

It’s a wonder that Baum stopped with the money supply. The impression from watching this continuation of the story is that the cultural relevancy of the foundational work is even more profound than a first glance tells. It’s all in here, and explicitly so: the social, political and personal themes that populate this split movie’s first half stand out even more in this denouement. Indeed, it’s rather astonishing how much the writers of the script could pen lines of dialogue that evoke (before the fact) specific parallels to current events and consternations. Again, it really says something that this story and its elements could be reborn and repurposed—from original incarnation (book series, then a classic movie), to another book, to the stage, and then to screen again—to say something old yet new. That whole process was helped immensely by wonderful casting, particularly in the leads (though Ariana Grande is distractingly skinny, to the point where you want to shove a donut or two into her mouth). As before, the visual design is comprehensively delightful, while most of the songs are superb. This is the whole package, a truly impressive accomplishment. Wizardry without humbug, for sure. 

Paths of Glory

A gut wrenching experience. This scathing indictment of military culture remains sadly relevant in a world where too many are willing to feed the machinery of war in all of its bestiality for the sake of slogans, hatred and personal gain. Kirk Douglas gives a terrific performance as the one man in a position of responsibility in the whole French army who actually acts like he has a soul, while Adolphe Menjou and George Macready embody the corruption of generals safe behind lines. Director Stanley Kubrick presents a film full of gripping scenes, including intense battle sequences that prefigure Saving Private Ryan by 40 years, courtroom drama as sharp as A Few Good Men, and a harrowing sequence in which a firing squad serves as a form of passion play, one that cannot help but inspire pity and disgust in equal measures. War may be, as one writer put it, a force that gives us meaning, but its secondary effects simply drip with meaninglessness and villainy. Glory’s got nothing to do with it. 

To Catch a Thief

This movie is what they used to call "a real hoot." For one thing, it’s a visual feast—and I don’t just mean the exquisite Grace Kelly. The French Riviera scenery is spectacular. Meanwhile, Cary Grant is Cary Grant, with all that entails; all the performances—from stars and supporting cast—are spot on; Hitchcock’s direction is as good and exciting and clever as ever; and the script delivers both clever turns of phrase and exciting action in equal doses. The only rub is that there’s a lot of French spoken in the film, without subtitles, because in 1955 it was assumed that any educated person would know a certain amount of the language. That’s hardly a deal breaker—you know what’s being said from context—but it can take the viewer out of the moment to an extent. Otherwise this is classic cinematic entertainment at its finest. If it tries to steal your admiration, let it.