Risky Business

You remember those Star Trek episodes where they wind up in an alternate universe? This movie is like watching the alternate universe version of Ferris Bueller's Day Off. From the Chicago suburbs setting to the madcap teenage adventures to the unrealistically tidy denouement, everything in this movie echoes not just the Ferris film but the entire John Hughes oeuvre—except here it’s all a bit more dangerous, a bit more adult (versus the self-consciously adolescent tone of the Hughes movies), and a bit more serious in disposition. And it all comes from a different auteur (Paul Brickman). Where the overlap is greatest lies in the '80s sensibility that pervades every atom of the world inhabited by the characters in this flick. If anyone tried to remake this movie today it would be impossible; no one active now had the same connection to that particular wavelength, and the story would end up wildly different, and probably not as good. (It would certainly be more violent; the action here practically demands more extreme behavior, and it says something about the relative innocence of those times that this plot plays out as tamely as it does.) Tom Cruise and Rebecca De Mornay work extremely well together here as rich high school boy Joel and Lana the hooker, respectively, Joe Pantoliano is a bit too lightweight as Guido "the killer pimp," while Curtis Armstrong nearly steals the show as Joel’s overly encouraging buddy. The soundtrack features a number of terrific—and contemporary representative—songs, and the Brickman's direction, in certain sequences, approaches something artful now and then (unlike Hughes’ generally more simplistic staging). So which universe is better? Perhaps it’s a reflection of my personal childishness, but it must mean something that I saw most of the Hughes films long ago, while I waited till I was an old man to watch this movie. I guess I prefer the adolescent hijinks over a slightly more downbeat version of coming of age. That’s not a pan—this qualifies as a good movie—but I do tend to choose pleasure over business, risky or otherwise.

The Death of Stalin

A movie that tries to be funny about what is ultimately a very unfunny subject. The Soviet Union in the early '50s was indeed, as the film makes clear, a place of great upheaval, chaos and murder on a grand scale, so trying to laugh about it, and about the men who made much of that happen, is a tricky task. This “comedy of terrors” does eventually achieve a level of success on that undertaking, though it has to build in that effort to reach its ultimate crescendo of genuine amusement. The credit for that achievement largely rests with the performance of Steve Buscemi as Nikita Khrushchev. Buscemi, even with his follicles pared down to the former Soviet leader’s familiar hairline, does not particularly look like the man, yet he captures his brusque, blustery nature quite well while adding an extra layer of caustic manner to the characterization, a performance that leavens the proceedings with the lion’s share of the story’s humor. Good work is also handed in by Simon Russell Beale as Lavrenti Beria, who brings a fair share of jocularity to his character’s murderous doings. Still, there’s a reason it takes a while for the laughs to break out in this movie—the gruesome nature of life under the communist dictatorship was no laughing matter. (Oddly, it also probably does not help that so many of the characters are played here by British actors, and that famously dry British wit doesn’t work as well as usual in this context.) Overall, the story works and the film entertains, but it’s not quite the riot one might expect, all things considered. But, after all, it does beat a trip to the gulag.

Sword of Trust

Hre we have one of those indie comedies that people love to rave about. You know, the ones that elicit comments like “hilarious” or “delightful” or “riotous.” Except really, those types of movies are never really any of that; they’re usually just mildly amusing, if that. So it is here. That’s not to say this is a bad film; that would unfairly besmirch the late Lynn Shelton’s effort as writer and director. This film does keep the viewer engaged and it has at least a few laugh out loud moments. Marc Maron has a naturalness in his performance as Mel the pawn broker, while the rest of the cast fill out the roster with the usual quirky characters who always populate these kinds of movies. And there, again, we get back to the original point: all of this feels very familiar to anyone who has watched this kind of indie flick before. Even some of the shots that Shelton presents throughout the movie show a familiar sensibility that is a hallmark of indie cinema. So we’re not talking about a moviemaking milestone here—just an oddball slice of unusual life comedy that’s watchable but not overly exciting. Yeah, you can hold the “hilarious”; “mildly amusing” seems just about right. Trust me.

The Seven Year Itch

Can you really make an unforgettable movie from one memorable scene? Indeed, from one memorable image? Well, no, of course not. Yet, this film has retained a place in the cultural consciousness simply because of that shot of Marilyn Monroe having her skirt lifted by a subway train’s breeze. That really is the only explanation, because this movie isn’t worth watching but for the presence of Monroe, both her appealing performance and her iconic presence and look. Beyond her contribution, this flick has little to recommend it. The narrative is composed mostly of Tom Ewell’s monologuing, which is tedious in the extreme. He’s a real drip throughout and no match for his co-star’s charisma. The fact that this movie is as uninteresting as it is baffles this viewer, considering it comes from usually reliable director and co-writer Billy Wilder. Honestly, I don’t know what to make of such a disappointment. If you must watch this one in order to ogle Monroe, who looks dazzling throughout, go ahead and scratch that itch. But I could easily go another seven years without looking at this movie.

Meet Me in St. Louis

A sweet and charming vision of an America that disappeared long ago. Calling this film old-fashioned hardly covers it; really, much of these proceedings come across as hopelessly square, and without anything that even resembles real-life drama. Nevertheless, there is much joy to be found in this chronicle of a year in the life of a well-to-do heartland family at the beginning of the last century. Judy Garland is, of course, the main draw here. She looks, sings and acts splendidly throughout, and director Vincente Minnelli puts her lovingly on display in virtually every scene; in retrospect, it seems they were almost fated to be together. There are several memorable musical numbers woven into the narrative, and there’s a terrific sequence set on Halloween featuring the very young and mischievous Margaret O’Brien that is a sheer delight. Even the contrived and somewhat overly saturated technicolor camerawork only serves to deliver a heightened sense of fantasy, fun and dreamy romance. As visions of the past go, this one is radically different from what we experience today—and thus it is, perhaps, that much more appealing. The past is like a country you can never visit again, as someone once said…but it sure would be fine to meet the right people there. This is about as close as you can get.

Sabrina

Some actors are actors, and others are movie stars. This movie features lead actors who were most emphatically movie stars. Longtime favorite Humphrey Bogart and more recent obsession Audrey Hepburn bring their legendary, luminous presences to this delightful story, which features a ton of charm and wit and just the right amount of romantic sentiment. William Holden—no slouch himself in the movie star department —provides terrific support here, while Billy Wilder brings his usual expertise to both the script and the director’s chair. Mostly though, this story shines because the two leads just bring something extra special to their roles. It’s the kind of thing that Hollywood used to deliver routinely—indeed that it was built upon—and it is ever so refreshing to turn back the clock and experience it once more. A movie that everyone can fall in love with—whether you live in the big house or over the garage. 

Funny Face

This movie starts from the preposterous notion that dressing Audrey Hepburn like an Albanian peasant somehow hides the fact that she is perfectly exquisite. Don’t worry—they get over their misapprehension soon enough. From there you get a healthy dose of Hepburn in all her usual glory—appearing glamorous, laying on the charm, and even singing and dancing in mock bohemian-beatnik style—not to mention plenty of Parisian beauty and joie de vivre. Plus you get to watch a delightful performance from Fred Astaire, who reminds the viewer that even this late in his game he still brought plenty of charm and dash to his role. Sure, the musical numbers are somewhat dated at this point, and I must admit my usual lack of enthusiasm for dance set pieces—but the film as a whole gives ample reason for one to enjoy its fun and clever humor and romance. Such simple pleasures may no longer be fashionable, but quality moviemaking is always in season. 

Send Help

The viewer is immediately confronted with a question by this movie: was the casting of Rachel McAdams in the lead role a mistake? The issue arises from the fact that her character, Linda, is presented from the start as a nebbish and unattractive creature—which is a difficult sell when McAdams, who has famously portrayed hotties in prominent roles, is the creature in question. Wouldn’t it have made more sense to cast an actual, non-physically perfect actress in the role, for some legitimacy? The issue is only given more weight by the film’s early scenes, which indulge in any number of clichés about office politics and interpersonal dynamics. Perhaps dolling up—or down, as it were—a standard beauty to portray a fugly was just another example of moviemaking laziness. Or so one might think. As the story goes on, though, it becomes clear that Linda straddling the line between attractive and unattractive is a core component of the narrative. You’re never quite certain who the villain really is here, until the unwinding of the plot eventually leaves no doubt. Before you get to that point, the story delivers plenty of entertainment, including thrills, scares and more than a few outright laughs along the way. By the end, you can appreciate the importance of—as the lady herself would tell you—strategy and planning. That’s what went into this work, and the early questions are all part of the plan. Not a bad trip, and worth the time you spend there. 

The Mexican

This movie may be the embodiment of the not so old saying, “it insists upon itself.” There’s plenty in this story to like, but there’s also plenty that comes across as superfluous, too, particularly on the Julia Roberts side of the narrative. The stuff that delves into the inner workings of her and Brad Pitt's relationship, while well meaning and occasionally entertaining, overall comes across as a diversion from the core of the story. A tighter focus on Pitt's side of the action would have made for a sharper, more interesting film. This movie wears its antecedents—particularly Pulp Fiction—on its sleeve, though without quite the same level of accomplishment. You can almost see the movie within this movie that Tarantino would have made, and that flick would have been a riot. As it is, this one comes across as somewhat amusing and entertaining, but definitely not exactly what it could have been. You aim, you shoot…and sometimes you get a misfire.

The Cocoanuts

Vaudeville is dead. At least in cinema it is. Some of today’s concert dog and pony shows can trace their roots to that antediluvian entertainment format, more so than most people today can imagine. But in movies it’s as dead as the proverbial doornail. And this movie shows why it had to go. That’s really what this movie is: filmed vaudeville. It presents a series of staged set pieces, some of them musical numbers of forgettable character, others comedic bits that are hit-and-miss as far as the funny goes. That’s rather surprising, given all that the Marx Brothers would eventually accomplish in later films, but here only some of the comedy hits the mark. It is also fair to say that the movie’s pacing is too slow, and the story does not generate enough interest to hold the viewer’s attention. Frankly, I got bored with this film before it reached its climax. All of those flaws probably didn’t matter much to audiences in 1929, who were simply astonished that actors in films could actually talk—but for those of us left here today, it all adds up to less than what we would hope to see. This film stands largely as an historical document, a work that shows how a classic group’s career arc started, but hardly the team’s best effort. Speaking of history, one item worth noting is how much of the plot—such as it is—revolves around grifters and shady business dealings, i.e., selling swamp land in Florida. It may be comforting, perhaps, in these days of the reign of The Great Bezzle, that it has ever been thus—and thus perhaps better times could come again. One can wish. As for the Marxes, one mostly wishes for viewers that they focus on later, better efforts than this one. 

Zootopia 2

The best part of this movie is the visual jokes and puns. Some of them are genuinely laugh-out-loud funny. And some of the verbal jokes hit the mark as well. But a lot of the rest of this film comes across as very boilerplate animated feature: not especially clever, not particularly innovative in terms of its visuals, and built too much around presenting bland homilies at the end of the story. You get the sense throughout the running time that the point of this exercise from the start was to preach to the audience, and to make the sermon more palatable by wrapping it up in a number of revved up action sequences. In that sense, it’s kind of like how you give a pill to an animal (appropriately enough): you stick the pill into some squishy treat and hope the creature will swallow it whole. To be sure, the film is not boring or without entertainment value; you can watch the movie and stay mostly engaged from start to finish. You might find yourself straying a bit here and there, and you might consider the plot to be low stakes and slightly nonsensical—but most of those watching it will be children anyway, and we all know how uncritical they can be. So it’s mostly harmless amusement, though hardly anything more than that, and certainly nothing particularly memorable. It’s not all happening at this zoo, but I do believe there’s just enough here to make do. 

One Battle After Another

Well, that’s an interesting concept for a movie: make a film about characters whom only a crazy person would find sympathetic. I guess this is what happens when you start from a position of making sure you have the correct politics, and then work on developing the story from there. That applies especially so when those correct politics echo the most deranged fever dreams of campus justice warriors. The result here is that the story’s villains are plainly villainous, but the putative heroes are simply bundles of uncontrolled animal urges who are not any more admirable than the other side. Other relatively minor issues grow out of a muddled timeline—the tale clearly has contemporary happenings on its mind, but includes a time shift that requires an origin point much further back in the day—and a central relationship that is preposterous on its face. So much for the problems. On the other hand, one must acknowledge that the plot has good pacing, the performances are solid all around, the script does not shy away from any particular difficulties, and—lastly but certainly not least—the core story in its human dimensions overcomes the film’s self-inflicted wounds to grow increasingly more compelling as the narrative moves forward. Also, the movie deserves credit for presenting a most compelling argument for the fact that security and liberty are diametrically opposed forces; increased emphasis on the former necessarily undermines the latter. That’s a political statement that is very much worth making these days, more so perhaps than the blanket canonization of one population cohort versus the demonization of another. So while this flick would hardly qualify as a Best Picture nominee (let alone winner) but for it tickling the strings of Hollywood’s preferred viewpoints, it must merit consideration as a good to maybe even excellent film—it’s just not an example of greatness. So don’t take that PURR as more than it really is. As usual, the real neverending battle is the fight to get people to stop overhyping whatever catches their momentary, acculturated but unrelated fancy. 

Mean Girls (2024)

You hear a lot lately about how high school kids are different these days, how all the cliques and stratification and such are no longer the norm in that milieu. Well, if that’s true, the people who make movies and musicals have not caught up to the current secondary school zeitgeist. There’s a remarkable amount of overlap between this story and that ultimate expression of the teenage dramascape, Heathers—which first came into being way back in 1987. True, this work is the derivative of a musical that was based on a movie of the same name from 2004, so perhaps it has a permission slip for being behind the times socially. Or, maybe just maybe, things have never really changed all that much. Whatever the case, this film offers a distinct and enjoyable take on the familiar story of a new girl who tangles with the local power base, here set to a musical score that mostly works, with several strong songs and only a few minor misses with a couple of numbers. The script offers a generous dose of genuine laughs, while the performances of the young ladies are generally first rate (not to mention that the Plastics are gorgeous, which certainly helps the viewer maintain interest). Ultimately, the tale ends with its heart in the right place, all while presenting just enough divergence from the original story to give the new version a sense of being at least a bit fresh. I don’t know if today’s teens really are more accepting and compassionate than they used to be, or if the meanness still reigns, but at least in cinema the genuine still trumps the plastic. 

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. 

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… 

Goon

Sports movies are always something of a crapshoot. Sometimes it’s all hackneyed and cliched and not especially compelling; other times the effort captures the inherent drama of the game perfectly; and the rest of the efforts fall somewhere in between. This film sits closer to the good end of the spectrum than most such movies. The two great strengths here are Seann William Scott’s low-key, almost childlike performance as the titular brawler, and a script—written by Canadians Jay Baruchel and Evan Goldberg—that nails it in terms of hockey culture both on the ice and among the game’s devotees. There’s a lot of fun throughout, including big (if rather profane) laughs, excellent hockey action, and even a touch of cute and sweet in the relationship between Scott’s unlikely hero and Alison Pill as a reluctant and less-than-ideal love interest. Yes, this film does include that most prevalent of sports flick clichés, exposition through broadcaster narration, but that’s a minor sin in relation to a whole lot of good deeds. To mix appropriate metaphors, he shoots and lands his punches. Light the lamp. 

The Great Dictator

Transitions are difficult. This film serves as an example of that fact, as director and star Charlie Chaplin presents an uneven effort in his first full talking picture. The movie catches Chaplin caught between the type of visual set pieces that were standard fare in silent films and the more structured narrative demands of the modern, sound enhanced motion picture of later days. Some of the visual sequences fall flat, while others still work well enough to elicit genuine laughs. Meanwhile, a compelling narrative tale, featuring excellent supporting work from Paulette Goddard, is woven into and around those visual jokes, offering a story of deep pathos—in the story of the crimes of the period leading up to World War II—and biting satire—via a full-throated attack on the perpetrator of the those crimes. The sympathetic story is genuine and moving, even within the unevenness of the full presentation. And then, when the film reaches its climax, Chaplin steps out of character and delivers an end statement that is surprising and electrifying and that carries the potential of rousing the passions of even the most diffident viewer. This film was nominated for Best Picture, and that was clearly a reach; I can’t deem that nomination as anything other than a nod to lifetime achievement. Yet the movie’s message comes across so forcefully in the denouement that this film deserves recognition as must-see material, for its instructional value on being a human being if nothing else—and especially so as a great deal of that message remains so sadly relevant today.

Despicable Me

I resisted this movie for a very long time. It just never seemed like a work that had much to offer me and my taste in films. Maybe that had something to do with the over the top marketing tie ins etc. well, I can now report that…I wasn’t entirely right, but I wasn’t entirely wrong either. The movie is at its strongest when it is focused on individual elements: sight gags, one-liners, slight satire. There are good moments sprinkled throughout its run time. But the overall story is weak and utterly predictable. Worse, in a story where the main characters are villains, every outcome is soft and pulls the punches. No-consequence cartoon violence is one thing, but this stuff here is for babies. Despicable? More like docile. That may fly with the toddlers (both actual and mental), but not with me. 

Spinal Tap II: The End Continues

The recursiveness may be the most striking aspect of this production. While parodying the idea of it not necessarily being a good idea for an over- the-hill band to do a reunion concert, these guys make a movie … as an over the hill group of comedians getting back together to do a sequel. Hmm. The good news is, this outing is not the kind of disaster that inevitably follows the fictional rockers around … but it isn’t exactly a triumph reminiscent of the original movie, either. There are good bits in here, mostly during scenes where the participants offer some fresh gags and wry remarks rather than rehashes of the first film’s notes. That’s a fine line, of course; they couldn’t possibly have made this sequel without referring back to at least some of the earlier material, so they can hardly be blamed for echoing previous jokes. Still, the viewer can help but get the sense that the principal creators didn’t quite trust their own abilities to really let loose and come up with entirely fresh pieces of funny. Maybe they were just tired; if nothing else, this flick shows the impact of age catching up to you. That condition especially comes through in the musical performances, which are uneven throughout. More encouraging is the support the core group gets from the guest stars, Paul McCartney and Sir Elton John in particular; both are quite funny in their cameos. All together, this work is something short of what one might have expected or hoped for, but the movie does deliver enough new laughs and nostalgic moments that it certainly isn’t anything to be ashamed of. These banshees still live, and they do (sorta) live well. 

Pitch Perfect 2

I guess this is what it would be like in a conquered world under a dictatorship of Pentatonix. No, that would not be as good as you may think. So too with this movie. Again, as in the first installment, the story is little more than a skeleton of a plot upon which a series of musical set pieces are hung. That would be fairly entertaining in and of itself, if all the songs were great tunes, but many of these are not. At least the vocal work is still very high quality. And many of the principal actresses are real charmers, which helps lift the appeal, while Rebel Wilson gets in a slew of genuinely funny lines. All in all, this record may be a bit warped, but it still delivers enough good sounds to make putting it on the turntable a decent thing now and then.