Ice Road: Vengeance

That title? Kind of dumb. The rest of the movie? Well, I wouldn’t say it’s smart, per se. It’s formulaic, not especially creative, lacks any really memorable moments…but that doesn’t mean it’s bad. The movie certainly accomplishes what it sets out to do, which is put Liam Neeson in yet another in an endless series of situations that require action action action. Neeson can do this stuff in his geriatric sleep by now, so there’s no problem with that. What’s encouraging and a bit charming about this flick is that Liam here gets to share the load; there’s ass-kicking aplenty for the locals to enjoy as well as the star's usual share of the fun and games. As action pics go, the attitude towards the foreign types shown here is almost enlightened. That, plus the battles, plus a few hair-raising moments on those crazy Himalayan mountain roads, plus some truly gorgeous scenery (maybe real, maybe matte or CGI) all add up to a decent time at the direct to home viewing. (The internet claims that this is actually a sequel to another movie that apparently has nothing to do with this storyline. No wonder the full tableau seems a bit weird.) Now if only someone had come up with a title that made a lick of sense. 

The Road

So let me get this straight: the world shattering event wiped out all the…bicycles? I have to imagine that this story worked better on the page than on the screen, as the depiction here simply shows too many internal story contradictions to truly give the viewer a worthwhile experience. By the tale’s own internal logic, these characters should have starved to death long before the narrative ever begins. More problematic is the movie’s core concept: things are awful, then they’re awful some more, and then, finally, they’re still awful—with perhaps the suggestion that things might get better, but maybe not. One has to wonder, what exactly is the redeeming value of telling such a story? It comes across as a simple exercise in misanthropic speculation, as virtually no one in the tale comes across very well. Even the worst curmudgeon among us must believe that, even in such dire circumstances, more people than not would choose to do right by others, rather than resort to, among other things, cannibalism. Really, this story seems like a work that pretends to offer wisdom and a deep understanding of humanity, but in fact it just indulges in an unrelentingly bleak outlook simply for the sake of bleakness. And, finally, I am biased against people who say “papa” instead of “dad”; just a quirk of mine. No amount of emotional heavy lifting from Viggo Mortenson is enough to overcome this film’s fatal, fundamental flaws. I suggest skipping this trip—and if you do find yourself forced onto this journey, maybe be sure to use that one bullet you have left sooner rather than later. 

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. 

Terminator: Dark Fate

An early scene features a whole chase sequence through Mexico City destroying cars left and right...and not one vehicle’s horn was playing “La Cucaracha.” That’s just bad production values. So much for what this flick lacks. What it does bring to the screen includes most of this franchise’s typical palette: a familiar scenario, featuring familiar characters from past outings, the standard warnings about technology going mad and traitorous—it’s not like they’re wrong about that—and, of course, a planet-sized helping of violence and mayhem. It’s remarkable that the formula works as well as it does after all these years and episodes, especially considering some earlier missteps in the series. This is still perfectly decent sci-fi, competently executed and entertaining, if not exactly groundbreaking stuff. If it winds up being your fate to have a couple of empty hours to burn, it won’t be any kind of apocalyptic disaster if you spend them watching this movie. 

The Housemaid

How realistic is it that someone would accept total irrationality over a relatively stable—if sucky—situation? That’s another way of saying the truly preposterous character in this flick is not Amanda Seyfried’s lunatic wife and mother but Sydney Sweeney’s putative down-on-her-luck heroine. There are roughly 35,000 points at which a rational person would ask a pertinent question and figure out that the situation was one that recommended extraction ASAP. Instead we get a woman—check that, we get multiple women—who get themselves way too deep into an absurdity, and then all that follows follows. So be it. Given certain story parameters, this is obviously meant to be a female revenge fantasy, and from that perspective the film achieves its goal, and does so with an adequate amount of being entertaining (and amusing, if you really dig violent comeuppance). Plus you get ample opportunity to ogle Sweeney and her rather famous talents (the movie isn’t shy about the show-off factor), not to mention the still-quite-fetching Seyfried. So overall, it’s hardly a waste of your time, even if it isn’t a masterpiece. If nothing else, you will learn a valuable lesson: sometimes the help needs help.

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. 

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… 

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. 

Mission: Impossible - The Final Reckoning

Sic transit gloria cinema. If this really is the end, that is. What was in many ways the most unlikely of top-level movie franchises—in story, in execution, in star power, in sheer quality of execution—has apparently reached its denouement with an outing that is, perhaps, not the best of the series, but one that is representative and certainly full of entertainment value. You don’t really need to fret too much about the story here; this installment is continuing a thread that has been building for around three episodes now (and arguably grew out of the details of the entire series, as the movie makes clear with numerous self-referential flashback montages)--and all that really takes a back seat to the typically audacious stunt sequences anywat. Tom Cruise is very much his usual self here: strong, on-point, and totally in control of his character and environment (and he is deserving of accolades for clearly being a driving force in making this franchise what it became, which is a film series that far exceeded any reasonable expectations). The supporting cast does good work, too, including fine goodbyes to stalwarts Ving Rhames and Simon Pegg in their definitive roles, as well as solid performances from the rest of the crew--including Pom Klementieff in a role where, oddly, she speaks only French but apparently understands English in amazing detail. But hey, we’re not here to quibble; this stuff is all about a fun times at the movies, and this flick mostly pays that off, without ever descending into self-destruction. That’s a good mission to complete successfully—and here’s the proof. 

Lara Croft: Tomb Raider

Late on a Saturday night. I was just looking for some mindless entertainment…and boy did I find it. I don’t know if this flick was meant to be in 3D, but Angelina Jolie’s character certainly was: 3D x 2, to be precise. Lara’s enhanced physique is so prevalent throughout the show that it is almost like a running—and occasionally bouncing and bobbing—joke, which is ironic since one of the key missing elements of this movie is actual humor, as in humor that is a) intentional and b) something you would actually laugh at. Further conceptual follies are found in the story’s half-assed attempts at being vaguely scientific, via some humbug about a planetary alignment, not to mention various other plot missteps. Even the raw action sequences come across as bland and not particularly inventive (a real black mark considering this film was made contemporaneously with the Matrix trilogy). If I had to point to some good aspects of this work, I suppose I could say that Jolie’s performance is decent, and she gets acceptable support from a pre-Bond Daniel Craig, plus the story does provide a bare minimum of entertainment despite its many flaws. Still, you can’t be too generous towards a dunce work like this one. Instead of pulling things out of a tomb, a better idea would probably be to bury this flick in one, and leave it there for a bad long time. 

Charade

It’s like a sophistication overdose: Audrey Hepburn and Cary Grant, in Paris no less. Grant may have been showing his age a bit here in the early ‘60s—the very sly, witty script even jokes about it repeatedly—but he still brings plenty of suave to this offering, a charm offensive that perfectly complements Hepburn’s own considerable charisma in this ever-so-urbane yet never stuffy romantic whodunnit thriller. The City of Light setting helps pump up the cultivated atmosphere, providing a context that magnifies the stars’ natural qualities. The supporting cast of later well-known but then still-developing actors does excellent work in giving the top-billed characters strong but never overshadowing support. And that script really shines, with its steady peppering of snappy lines to go with its smart but not distractingly overdone story twists. Really enjoyable stuff that should receive any true movie buff’s stamp of approval. 

Ballerina

If someone could be as inventive about solving the world’s problems as this movie is about killing people, we’d probably have a paradise in no time. There wasn’t nearly as much thought put into the movie’s plot; you just get a relatively thin story that serves as a skeleton upon which the movie’s meat is hung—that "meat" being extended and audacious fight sequences. Those are done with this franchise’s usual aplomb, and are enough to satisfy any moviegoer's thirst for mayhem. Ana de Armas already has the human pincushion thing down to a T (as in "trauma") here, displaying admirable survivability even in the face of some truly savage stuff. Indeed, that is the element that makes this feature very much a guilty pleasure; you only hope and pray that no one out there takes this exercise in bad behavior seriously, or indeed as a template for how to engage in such behavior IRL, as the texters say. This movie does stand as a model for how to artfully present action sequences (a hallmark of the franchise going back to the very first Wick flick). Indeed, the aforementioned Baba Yaga makes an appearance here, one that is actually surprisingly deep and lengthy for an off-the-main-storyline work. I don’t know if this qualifies as an actual good movie, but it does deserve props for mostly living up to expectations via its expertly choreographed carnage. Light as a feather, perhaps, but this one does move in an appealing way. Hard to ask for more than that. 

Jurassic World: Rebirth

Memo to all screenwriters: giving your script’s unfamiliar characters a set of background sob stories does not make them automatically sympathetic. That constitutes one of the large problems with this movie: you don’t really have much sympathy for the group of mercenaries who form the core of the cast, so whatever is going to happen to them comes across from the start as low-stakes. Things are mildly better with the vacationing family, who at least come across as relatively innocent and thus worthy of the viewer’s consideration. Perhaps the story should have opened with them, and then there would  have been a rooting interest from the first scenes. As it is, it’s only well into the action that you start to care about what happens to these people. (Except the sociopathic corporate type, who practically has “dino food” tattooed on his forehead.) The aforementioned “action” is the key element here; the action set pieces are the most effective elements throughout the film, more so than any individual plot point or character or even the creatures themselves. Whereas once upon a time the identifiable species were the real stars, this outing mostly features a bunch of weirdo hybrids that are scary, yeah, but have no real personality or charisma. (The best sequence in the whole flick may be the one that features the good old-fashioned T. rex.) Mix it all together and you wind up with a competent but not all that compelling franchise entry that mostly makes you wonder, “When is this thing going to go extinct?” So long as no one comes up with a better idea, the answer to that question should be "now"— but the real-world answer will be, alas, "not anytime soon" (if there's money to be made). 

Ghost in the Shell

Style and substance, yet ironically little soul. The warning about a cybernetic future is well taken, though at this point it feels both derivative and a bit too late. One can’t help but mentally compare this movie in real time to the Matrix films, with their similar themes and at least congruent visuals, but the more widely known—and successful—iteration of this vision injected touches of humor and humanity into the technological spectacle, whereas this work is largely grim and almost as mechanical as the very thing that it wants to warn us about. Even the opportunity to ogle Scarlett Johansson, in various painted-on get-ups, only provides a thin layer of extra entertainment to these proceedings. I guess cyber dystopias only have so much appeal. Who would have thought that (besides anyone with a soul)?

A Working Man

Shakespeare it ain’t. Perhaps you could glean that fact from Sylvester Stallone having a screenwriter credit here. That might lead you to believe that this story is largely nonsensical, features cartoonishly conceived villains and circumstances, and plenty of stupid dialogue, but...well, actually, yeah, you nailed it. We’re a long way from Rocky and First Blood, or for that matter The Beekeeper. Much of what gets aimlessly hurled onto the screen is patently ridiculous, and doubly so because—Jason Statham himself has proven multiple times—it’s really not that difficult to make a solid action flick that delivers clever violence while not drowning in its own idiocy. Didn’t happen here, not even in a way that could be enjoyed for camp value. Even the usually irrepressible David Harbour projects a metric ton of remorse for appearing in this turd. A working man, perhaps, but not one who appears in a movie that works. 

Conclave

You’d think I’d be put off by the sight of so many priests and nuns, but I guess miracles can still happen. In fact, this film is good enough to overcome any religious biases one might have. The story is fascinating, absorbing, entertaining, enlightening and and even somewhat inspiring in its faithful dimensions. The performances of the principal players are note-perfect all the way around, especially Ralph Fiennes as the dean in the titular gathering’s lynchpin role. And, last but not least, the presentation is a visual feast, with the spectacular scenery of the Sistine Chapel playing at least as prominent a role in the story as any of the actors. One might quibble that there’s a certain predictability in the plot's outcome—in the broad stroke, not so much the final twist—but that hardly spoils the full experience. Ultimately, this is as much a tale of ideas as it is a chronicle of any human actions, and it’s in those thoughts and concepts and beliefs where the work finds its fullest depth. The church may have gone astray, but there is, or once was, something that means a great deal to a great many, and this movie argues that a kernel of that core belief still has a place in this world. Must-watch stuff. 

Argylle

Silly, cute and fun. see, this is why you have to take a movie’s aspirations into account. If you approach this flick with the expectation that it will be a towering work of masterful cinema, then you have missed the point from the first few moments. Clearly, we’re in the realm of fluffy entertainment, and given that parameter, this entry achieves what it aims for. Bryce Dallas Howard is the greatest strength here; she’s adorable from her first scene and it’s her presence that makes everything go here. Even when she loses a touch of that luster midway through the story—there’s a tactical error in terms of characterization at that point, but it’s not fatal—Howard still brings enough charm and funny vibes to carry the tale to its satisfying conclusion. Also, there’s a cat who plays a big role, so that’s guaranteed fun right there. No new filmmaking epoch gets started here, but you’ll have a good time with this one if you let it be what it is. Discover that secret and you’ll find the key to being a good movie watcher. 

Wolfs

An enjoyable bit of crime fluff. The story is a little thin, but that’s hardly the point of this operation; it’s mostly about having Pitt and Clooney playing off each other in a battle of aging paragons of coolness, in a context that is, if not a legitimate heir, then at least a bastard offspring of Tarantino’s best works. Neither protagonist wins or loses, choosing instead to share in the good lines and smooth turns. This movie won’t go down as an indelible example of these stars at their zenith; it’s more the sort of thing that gets made in a top-class star’s in-between moments. As it turns out, that’s quite good enough to kill 107 minutes in an entertaining manner.