Wuthering Heights

So...this is the story that people have been swooning over for about a hundred and eighty years? From the start of this picture it is perfectly clear that this is a tale about some truly wretched people; one wonders how it can be that that fact has little bearing on how the story is perceived. That is, unless you cut through the dross about so-called love and words like doomed and tragic being tossed around and acknowledge what it’s all really about: rutting. Then things start to become much clearer. And perhaps that explains the film’s unusual—and probably unintended—appeal, for once I acknowledged the unpleasantness of everyone in the story, once I started laughing at much of the proceedings—and said proceedings do contain generous amounts of the genuinely comedic—the whole movie became substantially more entertaining. One even dares to suggest that, though the producers may not have made the movie they thought they were making, they did in fact succeed in making a film that holds the interest all the way through its running time. Further acknowledgment should be given to director Emerald Fennell's visual style, which is strong and artful in scene after scene. As for the tone of the movie, which runs a gamut from grim to horrible (when you’re not laughing at any given moment), I must suspect that the tone reflects less the realities of life on the 19th century moors and more the landscape inside the heads of the current cohort of people who infest the world—a group that, admittedly, old men like me take a dim view of. Generation AA has been a target of my criticism before, and this flick is probably more evidence that these creatures simply can’t see anything except through their own oddly skewed eyes. Bottom line: if you’re looking for tragedy and something to cry about and dote upon, I don’t think this movie works; but if you want an unexpectedly funny film experience, these miserable bastards have got you covered. 

Wicked: For Good

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

Wake Up Dead Man

Word of warning: don’t watch this movie if you’re sleepy. I did, and wound up dozing off about 45 minutes in. Is that a commentary on the quality of the film, or just a product of circumstance? Maybe a bit of both. For sure, this story takes its time getting to the heart of the proceedings. That leisurely pace gives the movie a sense of being—somewhat appropriate for a murder mystery—rather lifeless. The film does eventually get going, and in doing so presents an interesting aspect of the script: some intriguing ruminations on faith and the church and their value and meaning. Plus you get to watch more of Daniel Craig inhabiting the character of Benoit Blanc, which is good entertainment. Still, I can’t help but think that this entry in Rian Johnson’s series is a touch below the previous outings. Whether that marks a death knell for the franchise or represents just a momentary dip remains at this point a question still to be answered. Not dead yet, perhaps, but in need of a little more energy—something you can say about your correspondent as well. 

The Wizard of Oz

No, I didn’t try the Dark Side of the Moon thing; maybe next time. It’s an astonishing fact that, until now, I had never watched this movie all the way through from start to finish; I had only seen pieces of it here and there. Now I can report that the effort is well worth it. The story is a marvel, chock full of fun and pleasure, interesting symbolism, and more than a bit of old-fashioned wisdom. From a visual standpoint the film is hard to beat, even at this late stage. The look of everything holds up remarkably well, and that moment when Dorothy opens the door and step out of the sepia into that technicolor dreamscape is pure magic. Judy Garland is terrific as Dorothy, even if she was a tad old for the role (the character comes across as somewhat younger than the teenager Garland depicts). The supporting cast performs admirably throughout, including Margaret Hamilton as the Wicked Witch, and Ray Bolger, Bert Lahr and Jack Haley as the Scarecrow, the Lion, and the Tin Woodsman, respectively, perform perfectly in their roles. And that’s not just in the acting—they nail it in the singing and dancing, too. The musical numbers throughout are great, and the score perfectly complements the action, with “Over the Rainbow” serving not just as the lead number but also as the primary musical theme as well (with a touch of help from Mussorgsky’s Night on Bald Mountain at the Witch’s castle). It is all a delightfully rich tapestry, one that has grown over time to be one of the most beloved movies ever, and deservedly so. It is worth noting that this film is thoroughly within the realm of fantasy stories, even given its literary roots (with the book’s symbolic agenda of critiquing the then-current economic structure), and that that genre has always come in for its share of criticism and outright dismissal from those who pretend to be intellectually superior—yet, it is this fantasy tale that has endured and continues to have cultural relevance, while less whimsical works like, for instance, Dark Victory (another 1939 academy award nominee) is hardly remembered these days. Maybe stories that see the world in more colorful dimensions truly are the ones that inspire us the most. Something to think about the next time you feel like watching or reading the latest work about modern suburban angst or some such thing. As for me, I’ll gladly go over the rainbow to bring a bit of brightness to my own angsty life. 

Winter's Bone

The feel good movie of the season it ain’t. This is like watching a Dorothea Lange picture set in motion, and with an equal measure of sociological implications in the viewing. Most prominent in this viewer’s thought: the remarkable persistence of this sort of living, even into our postmodern, allegedly advanced world. Some minor details might be different—meth rather than moonshine, for instance—but otherwise this could just as easily be a story from the Depression years as the 21st century. And that suggests the question: how do people stay in this state, seemingly without any aspiration toward some better kind of life? The implication, if not the actual answer, is that even if aspiration does exist in this sort of setting, then it has little efficacy in most people's lives. That must be due to people giving up—and, based on what we see here in a fairly true-to-life telling, then the give-up must typically happen at a remarkably young age. That's depressing. Apart from such cultural musings, what stands out here is Jennifer Lawrence in her breakout role, which was helped immensely by her bringing personal verisimilitude to her character and that character’s journey through the ins and outs of a tricky, dangerous subculture. She really shines here, both in this context and also in terms of being the very picture of someone who was bound to break out. You can put Lawrence in as many stocking caps and hunting jackets and other countrified accoutrements as you like, but the embryonic movie star underneath still shows through. Again, this is not exactly a crowd-pleaser, but the film tells a strong story with realism, fine acting, and a note-perfect script that keeps the tale moving and comes across as spot-on throughout. If this vision reflects your upbringing, my condolences; if you’re just visiting through the magic of cinema, take it in and leave with plenty to think about. 

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. 

The Westerner

Alcoholic sociopaths of the Ooooooollll’ West! I can’t tell if anything in this oater is true or accurate, but it is mostly a good watch. Gary Cooper and Walter Brennan make an amusing odd couple as a drifter and judge Roy Bean, respectively, who wind up friends, then enemies, and then frenemies on both sides of a range war between cattlemen and homesteaders. The story goes all over the place, from comedy to drama to action and violence to romance and probably a few things I’ve already forgotten, but it mostly holds together under the expert direction of William Wyler. The only quibble is that, even at a standard for its time (1940) length of an hour and forty, the show does run just a bit too long. Nevertheless, the movie delivers a classic quality Western experience, and as such it hits its mark with a sharpshooter's skill. That’s my ruling. 

Wicked

From unlikely soil can spring forth remarkable fruit. The great power of this story (both this movie and the play upon which it is based) lies in the fact that it is the offspring of a story that was created over a hundred years ago—and as a metaphor for the populist movements of that far off era, to boot. In a world that seems devoted to constant change, and outright rejection of the past, it is heartening to see some cultural continuity where the tales, symbols and characters of another age can still hold charm and appeal even today. Indeed, the charm of the lead characters here—Cynthia Erivo’s Elphaba and Ariana Grande's Glinda—is what propels this adaptation up into rarified air and makes this work as entertaining and emotionally satisfying as it is. Some of the ensemble songs are a bit too ensemble, if you know what I mean, but the solo and duet numbers are standout. Also, this conception of the highly eccentric kingdom of Oz provides a visual feast throughout. There are a few elements that threaten to pull the viewer out of full absorption with the tale—the themes and subtext sometimes get dangerously close to preachy—but for the most part this ride can be enjoyed on its primary, straightforward terms. Let’s hope the filmmakers are able to find an equal amount of magic to pour into the forthcoming sequel/conclusion of this tale. So far, so good, witches. 

The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim

Oh, so that’s why I never got into anime. The plain truth is, with animation, no matter how pretty are the pictures you draw, at the end of the process the characters are simply cartoon characters. That’s fine for certain types of stories, but for others the animation treatment trivializes the project. So it is here. This telling of the Tolkien substory simply lacks the gravitas that Peter Jackson’s original trilogy brought in spades. This should hardly have come as any surprise, as earlier animated versions of the main LOTR story had the same problem, and were largely confined to the memory hole until the iconic live-action movies came along and revitalized interest in the old man’s masterwork. So this deck of drawings was stacked against itself from the start, regardless of the visual innovations brought by the Japanese masters of the form. On its own terms, this flick plays it relatively straight—there aren’t too many of the physical absurdities typical of anime, especially as regards to the fight scenes—which is a good thing, and tells a tale that contains a solid amount of interest, even if it is at best tangential to the main story of Middle-Earth. (Not that the script doesn’t make at least token [Tolkien?] efforts to tie this piece into the overall story thread.) One major plus is the depiction of the main (and made-up for this movie) character of Hera, not just as a story persona but also because she is presented as a smokin’ hot redhead (those anime artists definitely know their way around drawing females). Still, this script is otherwise fairly true to its source material, so a fan can’t complain too much. As noted, there was once a time when the idea of a major movie release based on LOTR would have been absurd, so best not to look a gift Hobbit in the mouth. (Sorry, no actual Hobbits here, though one young character of the Rohirrim tries to fill that void.) Maybe future efforts will learn from this piece’s flaws and offer an improved effort. Or maybe they can just stick to live-action productions, since those are the true, proven winners. That, then, really would be something worth blowing your horn about.

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. 

The Wild Robot

The hype that surrounded this film upon release does it a disservice. While it does look good from a visual standpoint, it’s nothing so great that audiences can be truly wowed by it. Seemingly, we have reached the limit of animation's state-of-the-art, at least as far as realism or naturalism in motion or appearance goes. You can’t get more real than reality. So the visual side of this flick only takes the viewer so far. Then the story has to do the rest of the work, and here that story is surprisingly mundane and reliant upon familiar tropes, if not outright cliches. It’s cute and occasionally funny, but, again, it is hardly groundbreaking, and in some instances—particularly the ending—it is mildly disappointing and even somewhat baffling. Indeed, much of the story’s setup had me asking questions—Is this supposed to be the far future? A different planet?—that only served to distract me during the early scenes. I wouldn’t call this movie bad by any stretch, but as noted, it isn’t exactly paradigm-shattering either. Like most animation that comes out of the major studios today—at least in this country—this will satisfy children, but leave the rest of us wishing for more. That seems to be the plan most of the time. Task partly, but by no means totally, completed. 

When Harry Met Sally...

Quintessential. That is the only term that truly captures the full depth of this film. It is the quintessential romantic comedy. It is, among a host of contenders, perhaps the quintessential New York movie, so much so that it can even make a dedicated urbanophobe see the appeal of living in Manhattan. It is quintessentially of its time—it was released in 1989, that enormously portentous year—and yet it transcends that moment and feels timeless. (A soundtrack that bursts with all-time great music helps in a big way to convey that sense of a work for the ages.) The entire presentation is flawless. Also, this is a very generous movie, with a script that shares the glory—and greatest lines—among the players, including a legendary line delivered by the director’s mother, of all people. Some of the concepts about romance that are established pieces of the lore today first came to our attention in this film: low/high maintenance girlfriends, transitional relationships, and can they/can’t they dynamics. It’s all a spectacular, rewarding viewing experience. Best of All hardly covers it, but there is no higher complement from the Bad Cat. Watch it again, watch it regularly, and just fall in love with it.

Wonka

Chocolate, as a general rule, is a delight in almost any form. Nevertheless, not every candy in the aisle is equally tasty. Case in point, this movie. Certainly, there are some good pieces in this package, even a few morsels that are downright scrumptious. But then again, as in the proverbial box of chocolates ... there are a few sour quince logs. As the title character, Timothée Chalamet is perfectly fine, particularly when he is being his most Wonka-ish. Even his song and dance numbers are generally clever and entertaining; not quite so when the rest of the rather uneven cast is called upon to make with the musical. (One wise choice by the filmmakers: many of the original songs call back to the themes in the tunes of the first, classic flick.) The strength among the other characters is Noodle, portrayed with charm, wit and wisdom by young Calah Lane. Visually, the film is very well done, both in its overall design and in some clever but not overly obtrusive special effects. Those are the positives. On the other side of the ledger, the supporting cast is an uneven bunch—Willy's fellow inmates range from tolerable to bland to almost nonexistent, the evil chocolatiers are overly  outlandish, to the point of unbelievablility, and Keegan-Michael Key basically embarrasses himself—plus the story runs a bit too long (even at its relatively modest run time) and comes across as mildly misdirected. The original provides its villains with comeuppance along the way; this movie builds towards a big, blowout dispensation of justice that ultimately comes across as flat and anticlimactic. So, overall, watching this work is an up-and-down experience. There’s enough entertainment in these scenes to eek out a loud MEOW, or maybe something a bit higher if you are somewhat indulgent—as the chocolate lovers among us tend to be.

The Woman in Green

There’s a series of murders going on in London—but then again, when aren’t there? Thankfully, Sherlock Holmes is around to piece together the details and bring the spree to an end. In other words, this flick is pretty much exactly what you’d expect from a circa 1945 Basil Rathbone vehicle. There are, of course, issues with the production vis-a-vis what we know of Conan Doyle’s canon. The setting is contemporary, thus stripping the tale of all of the usual late-empire trappings (the ‘40s setting is so out of step with what one would think of as the hero’s natural habitat that the erstwhile Victorian gentleman may as well be Sam Spade rather than Sherlock Holmes). There is a mystery, but no client; the consulting detective is merely invited into the case by the baffled police inspector (Gregson, in this instance; the client interview is a staple of Holmes stories, but is bafflingly absent in many of these movie adaptations), and the climax of the movie and the case is less a matter of the sleuth putting the puzzle together and more a matter of Holmes simply outfoxing the villains. So how, then , is this movie a good watch? Largely, it works on the strength of Rathbone's portrayal of the character; the more I see of him in the role, the more I judge him to be an exceptional fit for the Holmes persona. He may not match the great Jeremy Brett, but Rathbone is a physical match for the character, and he carries himself in the part much as a reader of the original tales would expect the man to be. It also helps that these entries in Universal’s Holmes series move briskly and come in at barely more than an hour. It takes little effort to watch and pays that small effort with a near iconic portrayal and an entertaining story. The success here is, dare I say it, just that elementary.

Winnie the Pooh

There’s a lot of weirdness in here. And there’s a fine line between eccentric and moronic. This movie is like what Winnie-the-Pooh would have been like if Milne had had ADD. A key part of the original's appeal was its essential Englishness; that makes it odd how many of the characters here are voiced by Americans. Further, the old stories’ gentle nature was a huge part of what made them special; the tale here often veers towards slapstick (though it at least never devolves to meanness). And while the tale itself is clearly inspired by a couple of incidents in the original books, it is largely one chapter that has been stretched into a feature length picture. (Or almost so; the running time barely breaks an hour.) Put together, you have an effort here that seems to have come from people who simply don’t understand the source material. That’s not to say this film is all bad; there are some clever moments sprinkled throughout, including witty lyrics in the numerous if slightly intrusive songs. (The tunes were penned by the Lopezes, who would really strike gold a few years later with Frozen.) Also notable and admirable is the artwork (particularly the backgrounds), which faithfully renders Shepard’s vision from the originals. It makes sense that a studio would want to mine their properties as much as they could for new original content—but it’s never a given that the derivative works will burnish the legacy of the classic work. It really would be better to just let the old stories remain the perennial classics and not try to gild that lily. Focus on making the next great original thing, rather than beating an old horse--or bear--to death. Which is a top-level way of saying, watch this one if you like, and get what enjoyment you can from it, but don’t expect it to be a match for what the true version is.

Weird: The Al Yankovic Story

It turns out bullshit really can be entertaining bullshit—up to a point. So it is here with this nearly totally made up biopic of the legendary parody songster. There are a handful of laugh out loud moments in this flick, especially for a Dr. Demento listener from way back in the day, though most of the funniest stuff comes from Al’s old songs, not from the movie’s original jokes. It’s apparent from the very start that this work gets stuck between going too far and not far enough. And then the whole thing really loses its track in a long, overdone, and not especially inspired joke about Madonna. And then, further, the movie is not helped by being shown by and on Roku, thanks to the numerous commercial breaks, which kill a lot of the momentum; ironically, the very company that brought the work to life is its own worst enemy. (The movie may be a better viewed on disc for a more enjoyable experience.) Ultimately, the total package here is one that is mostly entertaining, but could have been much much more than it is.

Wrath of the Titans

There may be a class-action case in the title here: technically, there's only one titan present in this tale, Kronos. That's one of the minor quibbles with this flick. That in and of itself is a surprise, as this work exceeds the standards of its predecessor. There's the usual dose of professional CGI work in the monsters and battle scenes, but there's also some real plot at work in this story, including good symmetry in the interactions of multiple father-son storylines. There is, dare I say it, some pathos included with the blow-shit-up sensibility typical of these swords-and-sorcery flicks. The eye-candy factor is lessened here, though Rosamund Pike gamely tries to hold up her end of the bargain. Still, this was one sequel that turned out surprisingly good, from what seemed like unpromising potential, so it definitely deserves some props for that. Like the Greeks, I have a word for it: goodenough.

The Wild Bunch

I have to admit, I'm not quite sure what to make of this flick. It is revered as a deconstruction of Western movies, but I found little in its content that really cuts to the core of what the old oaters were about and how they needed to be taken down a peg. Unforgiven does a much better job of that. This outing seems more interested in changing times--it did get made in times that were a-changin', after all--as embodied by the oldsters who embody the altered societal landscape, all of which has some interesting notes but is hardly the foundation of an all-time classic. There's also weirdness in the occasional scenes of the gang members going off on extended laughing jags, which I guess are supposed to exemplify how 'wild' they are, but mostly just comes across as disjointed oddness. (Given the film's '60s provenance, those scenes also come across as everyone being high, which may have been purposeful, too.) In a lot of ways, the story arc of Robert Ryan's character, a former fellow traveler of the bunch, is more interesting than the story of anyone in particular who is still in the gang. Nevertheless, judged simply as a Western story, the movie mostly works, with good action in several memorable scenes, and most of the principal actors acquit themselves well. I just think, looked at soberly through the lens of time, this film is not really the sensation it was viewed to be when it first arrived.

Wonder Woman 1984

I wonder, woman. The woman in question, writer-director Patty Jenkins, has me pondering whether or not she has purposely presented a particularly female cinematic maneuver here, by wanting to have her dramatic cake and eat it, too. The villains in this flick--the now-ubiquitous Kristen Wiig and the heretofore unknown to me Pedro Pascal--aren't really all that villainous; they're just desperate and/or misunderstood. Despite that handicap, they still wind up putting the world in mortal danger anyway. Thank goodness--or a ton of box office for previous outings, take your pick--that Gal Gadot's charisma is here to save the day, the world, and the movie. Without her influence, and some nicely audacious action sequences, this would be a middling at best effort; with her, the film merits a tempered see-it recommendation. Her co-stars do decent if not outstanding work: Wiig is just about good enough as the rival woman, while Pascal is effective as the would-be deluded world-wrecker. Chris Pine is just sort of there, though maybe he shouldn't be; he's not offensive, just not much of a contributor. Put it all together and it's enough (barely) to hold the franchise over till the next inevitable outing, and for now that's probably good enough.

Winchester '73

A complex narrative and circuitous storytelling collide with a host of genre standards in the Old West. In this case, that's a pretty good thing. I say 'standards' instead of cliches since many of the tropes present are so well done that this film ultimately serves as an exemplar of the style rather than as an exercise in eye-rolling contempt that a lesser effort would elicit. James Stewart plays against type (again--this is at least the second time I've seen him play a mostly ornery cowboy) as a revenge-seeking saddlehand, Shelley Winters looks good, and of all people both Rock Hudson and Tony Curtis (wet behind the ears in both cases) make appearances in small roles, while Stephen McNally and Dan Duryea make for effective and somewhat entertaining psychopaths (another staple of the Western genre). Those elements, plus some timely injections of humor and action, keep things interesting and lively for the duration. Those not as fond of the category might not like this one all that much, but as a (growing) Western aficionado, I found it worth my time. Oh, and it also shows that America's obsession with guns--in this flick, literally one particular, titular gun--is not a recent phenomenon.