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. 

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. 

Frankenstein (2025)

Director Guillermo del Toro takes a crack at telling a story everybody already knows—or do they? I daresay this exceptionally faithful adaptation of Shelley’s book (as near as I can remember it, having read it many years ago) will have more than a few surprises for those who only know the tale from James Whale’s film, and decades of Halloween decorations and other bastardized versions. More interesting than story setting (mostly, the Arctic) and details (he speaks) for those with broader knowledge are this work’s fascinating philosophical nuances. I’m not sure there’s been an adaption of the book that more clearly represents Victor’s work as not merely madness and hubris but actual outright villainy. That’s an important part of the story and makes it a primary analogy for any number of situations that involve the dangers of arrogance and overreach. From a cinematic standpoint, the most striking feature of this feature is its visual style; the scenes are all feasts for the eyes, especially the picture-perfect examples of gothic-romantic set design. (These sets really give vaulted ceilings a workout.) The script and acting are very good, too. Oscar Isaac does a fine job of being villainous without failing to convey that his character—the bad doctor—doesn’t believe himself to be the problem. Meanwhile, Jacob Elordi plays the creature from grunts to eloquence believably, while mixing in just the right amount of menace when the situation calls for it. This really is a strong candidate for best adaptation of this tale ever. Yeah, acts of creation often go awry, but sometimes they work out just fine. 

Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore

This movie requires you to cast a spell of your own: [waves wand] “Explainitous!” Really, it’s hard to know what is going on in much of the first quarter to a third of this movie. The production seems to rely on the audience being so deeply invested in the wizarding world that they will instantly know who everyone is and what they are doing without any particular explanation. Alas, some of us actually have lives, and have not seen the previous installment in a few years, so a lot of the early scenes inspire head-scratching by the rest of us. The story improves in the clarity department as it unfolds, but it does not necessarily do so in terms of being interesting or clever. The overall tale is a muddle, and that’s not helped by a quantity of ham-handed metaphors for real life situations both historical and present day. Some of the magical effects are clever and entertaining, but there are also scenes where the viewer anticipates certain visuals that never come to fruition. Imagination is supposed to be the core quality of this franchise, so it’s not a good sign when the audience is out-imagining the filmmakers. I was overly harsh about the original series and its installments, so I feel uncertain about truly laying into this outing in the franchise’s adjunct storyline. Maybe I just don’t get it, or I’m too old, or who knows? But I can’t bring myself to recommend a movie that comes across as so disjointed, and poorly conceived, and—and this is the same complaint I have about the later outings in the core story—just not all that much fun. Come on, people—enough is enough. 

Fitzcarraldo

What a truly bizarre experience. The story has dimensions of the absurd woven throughout, with a premise—an obsessed opera lover will go to any lengths to achieve his dreams—that sounds like the setup for a very weird and possibly not particularly funny joke. Much of the proceedings comes across as some sort of illusion or dream sequence, especially with the inclusion of a cast of characters—mostly in the early scenes—who all seem to have been selected for the grotesque nature of their appearance, giving the film a Grand Guingnol vibe. On a superficial level, one may be tempted to see this story as simply a rendering of one man’s madness or folly, but taking a broader view leads one to see this as, perhaps, a metaphor for the folly of the introduction—indeed, imposition—of Western European ways and ideas into places and landscapes and among people where it is completely alien and not at all likely to succeed. Make of that what you will. This film offers plenty of food for thought, an interesting (to say the least) performance from Klaus Kinski as the titular odd bird, and the spectacle of a steamship being hauled over a mountain, yet I think ultimately it is just too weird for the average viewer. 

The Front Page

As has been noted before, the past is like a foreign country that you can never visit again. Contemplating that fact is often the root for nostalgia, but in some cases, it conveys a sense of relief. That’s what roughly the first third of this movie is like; it takes about as long as that to figure out just what the hell this thing is all about, and to wade through all of the baffling trappings of olden (1931) days. Eventually, the story coalesces into a coherent vision that mostly represents the reality that “fake news” and media manipulation and political/press corruption are nothing new. Though this is a comedy—really, a satire—laugh-out-loud moments are few and far between, such that the real value of this tale comes from documenting how appropriate is one’s cynicism regarding the press and the powerful (and especially where they intersect). The film’s archaic elements can be a bit of a challenge for modern viewers, but for the most part the effort pays off, if only to learn the lesson that paeans to the prestige of the Fourth Estate are mostly humbug. Remember that when you watch the news these days, oh boy.

Flow

Enigmatic hardly covers it. This movie is one of those pieces of work that people who are really into New Age stuff will decide is Super Profound and Meaningful. Me, I’m not so sure. Everything in the production screams award-bait intentions, from the consciously lilting score to the unfinished looking rendering of the animal characters—despite the rest of the visuals being presented in lush, hyperrealistic detail—to the almost-referencing of various cultural (Noah’s Ark) and political (climate change) touchstones in the story elements, to the fact that the film is made by a swarm of foreign studios and agencies (the logo drops at the beginning take up about a reel's time on their own) but the lack of dialogue means English speaking audiences can easily digest it...everything strikes as specifically fashioned to gain highbrow attention. I’m not sure, however, that that actually translates into an important movie. The animal cast, through the course of the story, ultimately show no less amounts of anthropomorphism than your average Disney flick characters—they just do it more subtly, without the singing and wisecracks. And you can’t help but have scientific considerations butt into your assessment of the happenings (example: shouldn’t these creatures be starving to death by now?). Still, there’s enough visual, emotional and action depth to hold the viewers interest throughout, even if the journey winds up being a somewhat circular ride. Gush if you must, but I expect my breathtaking works of staggering genius to wow me a little more than this. Even with a cat protagonist, I can only muster a MEOW here; I’ll save the PURR for something that doesn’t insist upon itself so much.

Fly Me to the Moon

Believe it or not, this movie actually made me glad to be old. Not for the inherent qualities of being among the aged—that ferociously sucks—but for the fact that I am old enough to have had the historic events depicted herein happen (just barely) within my lifetime, and I can remember their aftermath on the psyche of the nation. It’s that world-changing impact of the events that makes the space program stuff so perpetually appealing; make a film about those days, those people, those ideas, and you can always hook me in. As for this specific movie, it has its ups and downs, positive aspects and a few downsides. The soundtrack is spectacular, with a lot of great Memphis soul tunes chased with generous doses of Sam Cooke, as well as a handful of standards (yes, including the title song). The performers high and low do excellent work all the way through; no one phoned it in here. And the visual recreations—when they weren’t using archival footage—are spot on. And that includes the wardrobe choices; the men are mostly drab, but the women in particular look absolutely gorgeous. (Maybe, just maybe, the less-is-more aesthetic of the past offers something a bit more inherently attractive than the “it’s all out on front street” look of today’s female fashions.) But it mostly comes back to the Space Race milieu—that is, as always, the true star of the show. Perhaps it’s encouraging that people still want to make movies about that time, and that at least some of us still want to see such films. We could all use the occasional reminders about what our people can do when we all pull together. This one reaches high, and it achieves orbit, at least, if not making it all the way to the stars. 

The Fall Guy

A strange viewing experience. The leads are likable, the script shows that it has something on its mind, the action is good (though it does occasionally lag)—what’s the problem? That’s what makes it so strange: I don’t really know. But something is missing here. The issue may lie in the fact that this movie is in love with movies, and if you personally are not so enamored, the film’s enthusiasm may fall flat for you (pun vaguely intended). Perhaps there’s also a lack of any sense of true stakes; the core drama lies in whether or not Emily Blunt and Ryan Gosling will make it up with each other--and frankly, few of us can really burn a lot of calories worrying about whether or not impossibly pretty people will be able to work out their love lives. The movie is, overall, not deserving of a HISS; there are too many good moments within its running time for it to get less than a middling MEOW. But it is, most emphatically, less than what it could have been. Less an awe inspiring stunt, more of a pratfall.

Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga

It has long been a Hollywood truism (applicable even to films not made in Hollywood, or even the United States): the villain is always more interesting than the putative hero. So it is with this prequel, wherein everyone’s favorite Imperator grows up to become Anya Taylor-Joy (and, someday, Charlize Theron), only to see the show stolen by Chris Hemsworth and his character, Dementus. (A side thought: I wonder how many kids these days are being named either Furiosa or Dementus. I’m guessing, some for the former, relatively few for the latter.) Hemsworth had the advantage through about two-thirds of the film, wherein the young version of the title character barely speaks while Dementus hardly ever shuts up. It’s hard to win an argument when you make nary a peep. Thankfully, this is a George Miller post-apocalyptic flick, so what generally does most of the talking is the very voluble presentation of shit being blown up. That’s a tradition in Mad Max movies—even with the legend himself only making the barest cameo here—and this outing still follows all of those longstanding rules, even if the mayhem has gotten a bit tamer over the decades (there are no outright rapes in this flick, and everyone who gets ground into the wastelands dust does so without any lingering shots of the gory details). The action sequences still measure as first-rate, even if the rest of the story is somewhat lagging and lacking. Ultimately, this and the other movies in the franchise do ask the viewer one provocative question: is this really what the future holds? Are humans truly so depraved that a societal breakdown will eventually lead to this kind of madness? You probably want to dismiss that idea as too far-fetched, perhaps out of some sense of the common decency of mankind...but given all I’ve seen of the world, I have a suspicion that someday, this flick may be less a fantasy and more a piece of history that just hasn’t happened yet. Maybe get your war rig ready, just in case, and hopefully find a resourceful type to drive it. And thanks to this film, now you know what kind of kid to look for.  

Finding Dory

There are moments, particularly early on, when you have to be a bit worried that this flick is going to be tedious and not worth your time. But then the sheer inventiveness of the storytelling—in figuring out ever more clever ways of having marine creatures get around out of the water—works its magic, and you can’t help but admire the cumulative effect of the thing. There aren’t many home runs in this tale, but there sure are a lot of singles and doubles here, enough to ensure this movie makes it home—pun/entendres intended—with more than enough scores to earn the win. Go fish.

The Firm

In which we learn that lawyers are sleazy. Sorry, sport—that’s old news. I’ve never read a John Grisham novel; never seemed like my cup of tea. So I had to overcome some preconceptions to appreciate this flick, and I’d have to say the effort mostly succeeded. As always, it helps to have Tom Cruise working towards that goal; he brings his usual solid performance here as young, on the verge of being compromised lawyer Mitchell, though here he plays it without his usual level of hyper-confidence. Even without his normal level of self-assurance, Cruise gives the audience a protagonist to root for. Our lead is ably assisted in this effort by a host of familiar faces in supporting roles, with Jane Tripplehorn not the least among that secondary cast as Mitch’s suffering but ultimately involved and active wife. The plot is intricate, though not so much so that it trips on itself, and there’s just enough action to relieve any slow spots in the proceedings. No doubt the references to various workings of the law are accurate and relevant to the story, though perhaps that’s the least important aspect of the production. I’m going to say that overall, this is a good, entertaining and satisfying flick—I’d just prefer not to have to swear to that under oath. Your witness, counselor.

The Flash

Hey, that was actually...fun. Who’d have thunk it? Unlike other entries in the DC paradigm, this one doesn’t take itself too seriously, delivers some actual laughs along with the requisite mayhem, and interjects just enough but not too much pathos to give the proceedings a sense of being meaningful without going overboard—this being a comic book movie, after all. Ezra Miller, he of the interesting off-hours amusements, keeps himself in check here just enough pull off playing the titular lead without letting his generation AA persona get overly annoying in the process. It’s close in certain moments, but the kid never entirely goes over the cliff. And he gets just enough help from his co-stars—particularly Michael Keaton, crusading once more—to deliver a story that is lively, enjoyable, and—for a franchise pic—surprisingly self-contained. The film is hardly flawless; the denouement seems to wrap up a bit too quickly and cleanly, and the absence of certain characters/actors looks like a case of special pleading. On the other hand, the story does deliver a rather clever doorway out of the franchise for certain other actors. Maybe, if these DC guys keep hammering away at it, they just might figure out the formula (especially since that other studio seems to be spinning its wheels at the moment). This entry appears to be a quick step in that direction; it remains to be seen if it can truly provide the crucial spark, the—dare we say it—key flash of ingenuity that will finally lift this cinematic project up into truly competitive heights. Either way, there’s enough here to make this one entry worth a look. Give it a bit of your time—and be quick about it.

Frozen II

Somebody super jaundiced might dismiss this film as mostly a collection of music videos of varying quality. Not me though—I learned my lesson from the first outing: there’s more here than meets the eye, at least at first glance. I’m not sure the plot makes a lot of sense, beyond its service as a means to creating its ultimate end, which affirms what has been hinted at all along: that one sister is the real ruler of things, while the other one is more of a symbol, or a figurehead, or perhaps just a metaphor for powers greater than the human world. That’s not really what tends to drive movies for kids, so we get the story we get here. Mostly, it’s entertaining, occasionally touching, every once in a while awkward (and maybe even a bit cringeworthy), and it’s packed with musical numbers that are, if not quite a match for the now classic songs of the first flick, at least good enough to hold their own here. (The Lopezes certainly do have a way with the music and lyrics.) It definitely feels like this should be the saga's second and last part, even with the announced plans for a third installment. After all, it would be a singular irony if it turns out that these, of all people, can’t find the wisdom to let it go.

The Fox and the Hound

Banal, badly executed and oddly redneck. Again we have the weirdly anachronistic setting--this film was made in the eighties, for Christ’s sake--featuring cars that Henry Ford designed and old-timey language, none of which serves any real purpose to the story. This movie's tale could easily have been made contemporary without any loss of its character. The songs are bleh; the score often reminds one of detective shows from the old CBS late movie. The subplot of birds--annoying birds--trying to catch a worm only acts to insert clumsy and unwelcome slapstick into the proceedings. In fact the film’s tone is all over the place, from maudlin to menacing to ridiculous, and mostly just too goofy and unserious to make the central relationship have any real gravity for any viewer besides very young children. At least the visuals--backgrounds in particular; the studio never lost its touch in presenting nature--look relatively impressive. What I can’t get over is the hillbilly angle; I hear fox and hound, and I think England … not Tennessee (or wherever this is supposedly set). The setting choice is odd and jarring and really quite dumb. I guess you can just about say that about the whole thing. This film, ultimately, may represent the nadir of the Disney studio's fortunes.

ffolkes

There’s a certain unabashed cheesiness to this late '70s action flick. It is, without a doubt, a product of its time—and thus comes to us today, if you have the right frame of mind, with a dose of retro appeal. Most of the production is, compared with modern action movies, remarkably low-key; perhaps even low-rent is a term that would fit. Mostly, this flick is notable the venue for as one of Roger Moore’s best roles. As the title character--a strange, misogynistic, cat-loving Scottish naval special ops soldier--Moore gives a fun, standout performance, smart and arch and entertaining through and through. The plot is almost irrelevant, except to provide co-star Anthony Perkins an opportunity to chew the nautical scenery as the lead criminal. Mostly, this is just an enjoyable ride from back in the day when the UK was still a great power and the idea of a gang holding its oil production hostage would have been considered a stage for heavy, international drama. They don’t make 'em like this anymore; it’s up to you to decide if that’s good or not. From this viewer's perspective, we’re not necessarily missing that time, but then again it’s nice to visit there once in a while. (Note: IMDB has this listed as "North Sea Hijack," without any reference to its original title. I distinctly remember it being named "ffolkes" due to the noticeable lowercase lettering and unusual double-f name--but you might find it under the other title if not the original.)

Fun & Fancy Free

More early Disney almost-feature animation for your viewing...pleasure? Yeah, mostly. As with other company outings form this time period—mid to late 40s—this work combines animation and live action, something that was at one time Disney’s signature trait, and does so to good effect. That happens in the second half of the film, in a story vignette that is told by Edgar Bergen (whose personal wit and cheeky, slightly subversive viewpoint shines through even in this setting) and features Mickey, Donald and Goofy as protagonists in a retelling of "Jack and the Beanstalk." All that works well. The first part of the movie, a story that is fully animated and tells of an escaped circus bear (shades of Dumbo) who falls in love, is less effective, mostly due to the insipid nature of the presentation. Despite that, there's value in the first part of the film—and the interstitial stuff featuring Jiminy Cricket—which display the other standard Disney production characteristic: beautifully rendered visuals that are worth watching for their own sake. Overall, this film is an interesting transitional piece, not as bad as the Latin American shows previously viewed, but not quite the triumph that Snow White once was and that future films would be. It was a process to build the brand into what it eventually came, and this work exemplifies that. (Note: I’m trying to view unwatched parts of the canon in order, but the film prior to this one—Make Mine Music—seems unavailable on the Mouse's streaming service. Hence, this flick is out of chronological order here.)

The French Dispatch

One of the worst half-movies I’ve ever seen. How bad is it? I watched, stopped watching about a third of the way through, later went back and tried to finish watching it, and had to stop watching it all over again, getting no further than halfway through. Hence, worst half-movie. The second half could rival Casablanca for all I will ever know, but I saw more than enough to make this call. The performances are dreadful all around, the script is an unfunny pastiche of unrelated and uninteresting vignettes, director Wes Anderson’s penchant for meticulous framing and visual design goes far overboard (he can’t even settle on an aspect ratio), and his usual wit—always in danger of falling too far into preciousness—is either well past the limits of tolerable or just outright absent. And all of the above comes from a viewer who typically counts himself as a fan. The over self-indulgence here is just too much, so much so that this can’t even count as a noble failure—it’s simply a disaster, and a waste of everyone’s time. It had better be back to simplicity and honest effort for this auteur, or else this misstep could signal a career that has reached its lovingly crafted denouement.

From Here to Eternity

It's probably not a good sign when you spend most of a flick waiting for bombs to drop--as in Pearl Harbor. This work's Best Picture win is evidence that the movie was overvalued due to its proximity in time to WWII (and, perhaps, its alleged raciness, though in reality it's really quite tame). The film's greatest strength lies  in the performances, particularly Burt Lancaster's work as the least screwed up of the principal characters. The narrative's intertwined stories are weak and fairly uninteresting, at least to this viewer. Admittedly, I'm not really one for stories focused on the "lives and loves" of fill-in-the-blank type people, even in a normal context; set such a story against the backdrop of world-altering historical events, and that putative main subject matter comes across as unusually petty and ultimately meaningless. A major disappointment.

Ford v Ferrari

Kind of like a mid-sized sedan manufactured back in the '90s: decent, lots of reliable parts, but never quite able to shift into high gear. The story is inherently interesting, told through vivid characters--not to mention numerous sports movie cliches--with a good cast and impeccable scene and art direction, but the problems never really go away. Damon is fine as Carroll Shelby, but Bale's work as Ken Miles ranges from pitch perfect (in his tone and presence) to distracting (his accent is largely unintelligible). Plus, the film's climax is not really a win (which would have been predictable) or a loss (which would have been provocative) but basically a tie--which hardly heightens the drama. Like most American cars these days, this model is good, but could have been better.