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.

The Dark Crystal

Weirdest Muppets ever. That’s not merely a put down—it is the essence of the main problem with this movie. All the creatures depicted within the story are so odd and far from human that it can be difficult for the viewer to find a “hook” in the film that brings the audience member into the tale. Even the little humanoid characters are weird enough to stand far enough away from the viewer that one can not really put himself into the place of the character—a required bit of empathy for a movie-watcher to really get into a film. (Some of the critters also present a problem in their inherent Muppetness, like when a group of them start having a hootenanny and try to out-Ewok the Ewoks.) The weakness of the film is also its strength; the movie is very much a feast for the eyes throughout, so much so that one must conclude that the bulk of the creativity went into producing the visuals over developing relatable characters or a consistent narrative. On the latter, for instance, the prologue tells us that the crystal cracked and the world was made a waste…yet, much of the story takes place in lush, lively landscapes—hardly a world turned barren. Finally, there’s a little too much voiceover; it would have been better to show the story more than tell it, a fact that reveals the weakness of the script. Plus what there is of the script indulges in a few too many fantasy tale cliches. (Fantasy worlds, apparently, are simply drowning in prophecies.) Nevertheless, the visual elements are impressive, as is the puppetry, which makes all these weirdos seem very alive. I think this movie has to go under the heading of a noble failure, even if it is watchable and relatively brief. Maybe you can get around to watching this flick around the next time the three suns have a conjunction. In the meantime, there are better fantasy stories to pay attention to.

D.O.A.

The biggest, and most immediate, flaw with this movie is its star: Edmond O’Brien simply isn’t handsome enough to come across as anything more than a schlub. So you spend most of the first reel wondering why that chick dotes on him so much—its not like he seems to deserve it for his character—and why he is immediately accepted as the life of the literal party next door. Then he learns he’s been poisoned, and the race is on, and from then on the action really begins and the lead’s flaws gradually don’t matter anymore. In other words, it takes a while for this flick to get going, but eventually it grows more engaging and carries the viewer through to its ultimate—and, indeed, preordained—destination. The plot seems kind of flimsy, like it’s a matter of faith that the thin thread that connects O’Brien’s character Bigelow to a distant crime is enough to set all this in motion, but the action scenes, as well as the views of 1940s San Francisco and Los Angeles, make up for the lack of compelling plot points. I don’t think this one really deserves its reputation as a film noir classic (many better movies leap to mind), but for a bit of old time entertainment for a night in front of the tube, it does enough to satisfy. It stays barely alive just long enough to make it worth watching.

Dracula (2025)

Leave it to a Frenchman to make perfume a key ingredient in the old vampire’s story. That’s just one refinement that director Luc Besson brings to this retelling of Stoker’s tale. Normally I’m a stickler for story fidelity when it comes to adapting a book into a movie, but in this case some of the changes work quite well. You can forgive Besson for shifting a large part of the story’s setting from London to Paris—it is, after all, his home turf, and not exactly a place that’s not cinematic. The difference brings a certain freshness to the non-Romanian parts of the narrative, especially given the fin-de-siècle nature of the place and time. Meanwhile, other aspects of the story are preserved to a strong degree, making the overall film a blend of both faithful adaptation and creative extension and development. There are plenty of gothic elements and eye-catching visuals here; this outing clearly owes some debt to Coppola's now-thirty-years-old version, though it lacks most of that works gleeful ghoulishness. The principal actors are quite good in their roles, and it’s always welcome to see the ever-entertaining Christoph Waltz bringing his inimitable presence in the Van Helsing role. The only real misstep comes at the climax, when the ultimate battle turns into an actual battle, one that plays more as an over-the-top exercise in moviemaking rather than as an appropriate resolution to a conflict that is ultimately more psychological and spiritual than physical. Otherwise, we're on solid ground (consecrated or otherwise) here. You’d think, at this point, that this story has been told so many times that there could be little left to find exciting in any new adaptation, but here is a proof that creative individuals can bring something new to even the oldest—maybe even worn out tales. Contrary to the story’s core premise—and perhaps expectations—this movie definitely does not suck. 

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. 

Deadpool & Wolverine

Was this trip really necessary? I’m far from convinced that it was. I won’t say there isn’t any funny in here; there are some real laugh-out-loud moments along the way in this script. But then again, a lot of the story reads like it was copied and pasted from fan fiction posted on message boards. I wasn’t quite sure how and why the main characters were where and what they were at the start of things—I guess I really don’t live and breathe these flicks after all; score one for me—and it never got all that much clearer as things went on. Others may be satisfied with the Easter egg experience of seeing some obscure characters brought into the plot as cameo devices, but that only goes so far in my view. (Dafne Keen’s appearance worked best for me, as her character actually had some relevance to the last time we saw Hugh Jackman as Logan.) And, of course, the over the top violence is fun, for a while. Then it gets numbing, and your mind starts to drift onto other ideas—like, for instance, what is the point to all this besides making money? The answer may not surprise you. Alas, everyone’s favorite unkillable supersomething may live on again and again, until the profit margin grows small enough to invoke the powers that no franchise can resist: studio accountants. I guess that’s the real subtext of this thing. That certainly is the lasting takeaway of this movie. Let’s see how many wisecracks it takes to overcome that.

Dumb Money

There is a strange aspect to this movie, a measure of confusion that pervades the story. Based on the movie’s marketing and general vibe, you go in and watch with the impression that this story of lower class Davids sticking it to investor class Goliaths is on the side of the poor people. Yet many of the film’s trappings seem to indicate that the term “dumb money”—the rich assholes’ sneering characterization of two-bit retail investors—may not be so far off the mark. For one, the presentation is awash in rap “music”—and not exactly clever rap, either, but more like some of the ugliest sounding, meanest sounding, and, yes, stupidest sounding noise the producers could have found. The aural choices seem to imply that the cohort of paycheck-class types are exactly as churlish and ignorant as the title insult insists they are. Those same characters themselves, throughout the story, persistently make the case against the “short squeeze” they are engaging in, and the outcome many of them foresee does, in fact, eventually come to pass, in real life if not in reel life. (GameStop stock, when I watched this flick, was trading at around $20 a share—hardly the several hundred dollars per the price achieved in the midst of the mania.) Finally, the end notes before the credits relate that the hedge fund types, in the wake of all this, are now more careful about shorting stocks—all well and good, I suppose, but hardly the revolutionary outcome the squeeze participants were hoping to achieve, by their own presented testimony. So is this movie actually making an admiring case for the poor people? Or is this an exercise in declaring that those on the bottom really can’t win? Given the big picture, my guess is this film is firmly on the side of the little people, but presents that viewpoint somewhat incompetently. Thus, an interesting story and some good performances, in a story that holds interest for anyone with a thirst for economic fairness, get wasted by filmmakers who simply don’t quite make the case in favor of their heroes. A “should have been” movie that just isn’t quite. (Note: the library DVD I used to watch this movie had some playback issues, especially late in the running time. I undoubtedly missed a few crucial scenes, which might have changed my opinion on the piece overall. Watching comes with risk.)

Dressed to Kill

Quite possibly the best of the Universal/Rathbone Sherlock Holmes movies. The mystery is clever, the antagonists are formidable, and Holmes is at the top of his game, even if the villains temporarily get the best of him. In other developments, Watson remains something near a moron—how did such a creature ever get a medical license?—the anachronism is still a thing, though not particularly glaring in this outing, and Holmes doesn’t bother with any disguises (and is even taken in by the criminal lady’s outfit!). The movie moves swiftly, provides an entertaining tale, and comes to a satisfying conclusion, even if some of the hallmarks of the Holmes canon are still missing (mainly, the atmosphere of Victorian England, which is so integral to most of the stories on the page). It may be a bastardized version of the Conan Doyle character’s adventures, but this film still delivers enough of what you expect of the super sleuth to make it worth a look.

Dune: Part Two

So there’s fanatical space Arabs out there. Well, that’s just great. Hopefully any excesses will be confined to moviedom. It is the overriding impression one gets watching this movie, just how much the tale is filled with Middle Eastern vibes. That’s not something you usually get in your sci-fi epics, but it does lead one to contemplate how tableaux about empires and power and war are really about death, destruction and misery. And in this outing, you don’t even get to the end of the conflict—all this is just a prelude to the third entry, which presumably will present us with one hell of a climax. As it is, there’s plenty of action and intrigue to go around in this installment, more than enough dazzle to keep you entertained—visually, at least, if not in terms of the story—throughout the movie’s rather long (two and a half hour) running time. Oh, and don’t worry so much about how long it’s been since you saw the first one; even if you never laid eyes on the first flick, you can follow along with what’s going on easily enough. In sum, it’s great to look at, tells a good story—at least the middle part of it—and features a slew of familiar faces doing good work all around. Not much more you can ask from a better than average space opera.

The Dictator

Sacha Baron Cohen's world absurdity tour continues, but with diminishing returns. It is instructive to do a compare and contrast with the auteurs most successful work, Borat. The earlier movie, made in faux documentary style, landed one uproarious laugh after another, while this effort, a more standard fictional comedic setup with Cohen playing African-Arab autocrat Aladeen, has its fine moments, but they come scattershot, mostly as jokes and one-liners that work in isolation. Clearly, the demands of a fictional narrative muted the impact of Cohen’s outrageous style of comedy. What you’re left with, then, is a film that represents probably the lower endpoint of this comedian's arc. It is no wonder that Cohen eventually moved away from this sort of movie and took on a number of smaller, often more serious roles in later years. As for this work, again, it has its moments, but given the expectations raised by the earlier efforts, it is difficult to view this entry as anything but a disappointment—and that verdict is rendered despite the presence of the normally reliable Anna Faris as Aladeen's foil/love interest. (The final joke, by the way, is fully telegraphed and comes as no surprise to anyone in the audience who has been paying the slightest attention.) Thankfully, those of us who do not live in Wadiya have the freedom to choose whether or not to watch this work. If you’re feeling as self-indulgent as your typical Middle Eastern dictator, perhaps you will wish to spend your time on this endeavor. Otherwise, you may seek the refuge of giving this one a pass.

Don't Worry Darling

The Stepford Matrix. Sorry for that sorta spoiler, but one must acknowledge that this kind of thing has been done before. Which is not to say this outing is automatically inferior to its antecedents. Indeed, this flick has a lot going for it, including a powerful performance from lead Florence Pugh, a shrewd choice by director Olivia Wilde to use the trappings—and especially the music—of mid-century, golden age (of a sort) America as the staging for this investigation into what’s what in a given life, and a tight, well-crafted presentation that grips the viewer's interest throughout. Life may be but a dream—or more likely, a nightmare—but at least you can be assured that these two hours are hardly the worst you’ll ever have.

Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness

Cameos, assemble! The eyeroll quotient is extremely high here, and a lot of the interest-generation in this outing comes from seeing who shows up where. For all the wizard flash in the title and feature scenes, this flick is at least as much Elizabeth Olsen's movie, which is a good thing, especially as her appearances in the Scarlet Witch outfit (both the official uniform and the Halloween costume) were the best parts of WandaVision. As for the overall story here? The whole thing ultimately plays out like a grandiose extra, final episode of the aforementioned TV series, and barely anything more than that. More and more, I see the superhero genre approaching its end-of-shelf-life--especially if all of the upcoming works are going to hit us again and again with the same characters, struggling for the same stakes, and leaving the viewer with the same sense that we’ve been here before. At least, if you’re a subscriber, you can say you didn’t directly pay for this one. Certainly, only a fool would buy a ticket for this franchise at this point. Let’s see the Mouse wizard its way out of that scenario.

Death on the Nile (2022)

I guess it’s just my lack of affinity for mystery movies, but, while I appreciate the skill with which this film was made, I found something missing here, some way in which this work just didn’t click. On the positive side, there’s no complaints to be made about the presentation; everything looks gorgeous, the cinematography is wonderful, and the Egyptian locations are used to brilliant effect. The performances are also first rate; no one in the cast makes a shambles of it. So what’s the problem? I think it’s the underlying tale. The mystery genre, in this viewer’s view, is one dedicated to an author trying to prove how clever he or she is--frequently without complete success. There’s little real interest in who-dun what here, and the whole scenario comes off as contrived. Also, I don’t think the exploratory plot points regarding Poirot's background and emotional state really add much to the proceedings; that character is there to perform a function in the story--guide the viewer to the resolution--not really to be a part of it. Add in an unwelcome touch of wokeness and there’s enough about this movie that either annoys or rings false, such that it drags down the total experience, despite the movie's positive aspects. You can be forgiven if you decide to skip this trip.

Dune (2021)

An interesting viewing experience. You can’t help but look at this movie as something fake, not because it’s science fiction--and thus wholly unreal--but because it bears a resemblance to so many other epic type productions that it feels like it’s a ripoff of something else. However, there is enough here that’s unique enough to credit this work in and of itself. (And Frank Herbert's source novel is old enough that, perhaps, it’s the other works that rip off this one). The film also has going for it a singular vision of how it looks, and its component elements--particularly the space and aircraft designs-- also feel fresh, even in the face of that derivative vibe. That same effect is assisted by a raft of familiar faces looking unfamiliar in their roles, though still doing good work, as well as the not-quite familiar Timothée Chalamet holding his own in the movie's linchpin role (something I wouldn’t have necessarily bet on going in). All in all, the proceedings hold the interest throughout the movie's long running time, with a story that promises to move in interesting directions in its upcoming continuation.

Dumbo

A cogent examination of the brutal cruelty that is the circus. Or maybe it’s just a children’s cartoon—it’s hard to say.  The story, such as it is, is a thin gruel for feeding an audience an entire movie (even considering the movie's exceptionally short running time of barely over an hour). The extended musical sequence goes on too long, contains little that satisfies visually, and barely serves to advance the story. On top of it all, the animation is oddly poor, given the film was produced during the golden age of Hollywood cartoons. This work succeeded largely on reputation, not on its standalone merits—a reminder the even back in the day, Disney (the company and the man himself) was not infallible.

Dog Day Afternoon

An interesting look back at the way things were…and how they’re not necessarily so different from now after all. Sure, there are major differences between now and the mid '70s, as we see in this film—but there are some similarities, too, stuff that would be somewhat hidden in a time capsule like this one if you don’t specifically look for them. For instance, as shown in this slice-of-the-criminal-life in disco-era New York City, the people and the cops have not always the best of friends, just as they have been experiencing some tension these days. This is all the more true as relates to certain cultural subgroups; ethnic and sexual cohorts come into play here, in a tableau that vaguely mirrors what you see today. Beyond all that, what this film is really all about is the raging talent that Al Pacino was back in the day (and can still be, occasionally, when he calls up the energy). This is truly his show, and his performance is a tour-de-force in commanding the stage (so to speak) and standing front and center all the way through. He's so dominant that the viewer could possibly even miss out on noting the scattering of later-famous faces that populate the supporting cast (abetted considerably by the fact that, in a few cases, they’re barely recognizable to later eyes). On top of it all, the film presents a story that is packed with both humor and tension; it veers between the absurd and the deadly serious in a most entertaining way, and the entire work demands the audience's attention all the way through. I don't know that a movie like this could be made today--which is why it is all the more important that it be relished as both a message from the past and a terrific piece of cinema.

Downfall

The biggest question here: does this film humanize Hitler and his most maniacal followers too much? Perhaps 'humanize' is not the right word; I suppose the question really comes down to sympathy, and the possibility that there's too much of it here. The answer to that question probably depends upon who you are and how you feel about such things. What you undeniably get here is an exhaustively detailed account of the last days of the Nazi regime. One might even say too detailed, as it goes on hammering home its message long after that point is made. From a cinematic angle, the performances are excellent all around, the recreation of time and place is meticulous, and the movie's ultimate statement--what starts in madness ends in madness--comes through clearly. One note worth mentioning: this flick was made for an audience that is assumed to have a fairly good knowledge going in of who is whom here; explication is minimal, which could trip up modern viewers.

The Disaster Artist

The astounding achievement here is not the meticulous reproduction of scenes--or mis-scenes, if you will--from Tommy Wiseau's disasterpiece The Room; it's the level of sympathy and understanding that the Franco brothers are able to produce for the unyieldingly idiosyncratic auteur. They clearly admire something in the determination--or, perhaps, chutzpah--of the severely untalented would-be movie star; maybe they recognize some piece of themselves in Wiseau, a sense of "there but for the grace of God..." Indeed, by making a comedy about the making of the unintentional comedy, the brothers, one could argue, have actually been derivative of a work that would otherwise be a target of sheer mockery. As for this movie, it is funny, though not non-stop laughs; occasionally, the recreation is cringeworthy, sort of like watching scenes from the UK version of The Office (Wiseau and David Brent have a lot in common). All in all, the whole package is entertaining enough to make this film a good watch, especially if you stick around for the ending--when clips from both films are played side-by-side for comparison--and the post-credits scene, where the doppelgangers meet. Hopefully, everyone who is this hopeless can have his or her moment of triumph--and perhaps this flick can light that way.

Driving Miss Daisy

There is, perhaps, an object lesson in this film, particularly for the “justice warriors” of today: a greater impact might be had through gentler persuasion, rather than shouting and canceling. It is easy, and superficial, to look at this story--and particularly Morgan Freeman’s performance--and see only caricature and stereotyping. But the road to respect, in all dimensions, starts with accepting people at their face value. That’s the journey that Daisy and Hoke go through here, and thanks largely to the performances of Freeman and Jessica Tandy--both of whom inhabit their characters to perfection--they effectively carry the audience along with them. It may be easy to dismiss this movie; it has often been treated as something of a punchline over the last 30 or so years. But if you give it a chance, you can see why such a deceptively low-key movie was appreciated in the first place.

Drums Along the Mohawk

Dumb among the rednecks. It's surprising just how bad this movie is. The director? John Ford. The stars? Henry Fonda and Claudette Colbert? That's some pretty heavy duty bloodlines there. So why is this flick so foolish? It barely qualifies as a story; just a pastiche of scenes from colonial New York, culminating in a Revolutionary War victory for the proto-Americans and a few laughable visuals of women and Natives saluting the flag in their joy over a win for the white trash. As an echo of the country that once was, this is a weird piece of historical curiosity--but without the usual dose of fond nostalgia these sorts of movies usually bring. As a movie, it's makes little sense, is not particularly entertaining, and doesn't show its cast and crew in a good light. Quite an unusual--and disappointing--experience.