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Age has been kind to both director Ridley Scott and his 2000 epic “Gladiator.” Scott’s film earned Best Picture honors at the turn of the c...

Age has been kind to both director Ridley Scott and his 2000 epic “Gladiator.”

Scott’s film earned Best Picture honors at the turn of the century, and it’s remained in the cultural conversation. (Can you say the same about “Moonlight,” “Crash” or, gasp, “The Shape of Water?”

That meant a sequel wasn’t just a possibility but a coup despite the franchise missing its two key attractions.

No Russell Crowe. No Joaquin Phoenix.

No problem, apparently.

“Gladiator 2” delivers a textbook sequel, unable to match the original but hardly a wasted affair. Scott may be 86, but he choreographs the mayhem like a 20-something hopped up on Fortnite and Rockstar.

It helps that Denzel Washington carries the film on his legendary shoulders.

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Crowe’s Maximus Decimus Meridius may have left this cinematic coil, but Paul Mescal steps into his sandals as Lucius. He’s a thoughtful warrior in love with his archer spouse (Yuval Gonen).

You don’t need a film history degree to sense her fate (Or just hit ‘play’ on the trailer). Before you can ask if you’re entertained poor Lucius is enslaved by dueling Roman emperors (Joseph Quinn and Fred Hechinger).

Lucius’s fighting skills earns him the respect of his captors. It also catches the eye of Lucilla (Connie Nielsen, the key returnee from the original film). Her connection to our hero couldn’t be more obvious.

Lucius is too busy fighting for his life to care about his lineage. That includes a battle royale with monkey-like creatures you won’t find in any zoo.

Why Scott opted for fictional beasts is a question best left to the master. How he thought a Sharknado-style sequence would make his sequel soar demands a few stiff drinks.

 

 
 
 
 
 
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“Gladiator 2” patches enough storylines together to support Scott’s muscular set pieces. The battles are bloody and consequential. Harry Gregson-Williams’ score is everything the grandiose action requires.

Yet everything on display is a lesser version of the original. Mescal, a solid presence and formidable fighter, is no Crowe. Who is, really?

The simpering emperors can’t duplicate Phoenix’s impish sneer.

The sequel’s sole advantage? A two-time Oscar winner finding the right tone for this gladiator romp. Washington plays Macrinus, the empire’s Don King-style promoter. He sees greatness in Lucius’ fighting style, and he hopes to use it to his advantage.

Would you bet against a Washington character? Ever?

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Pedro Pascal plays the Roman warrior who helped make Lucius’s life a living hell. His Acacius isn’t the one-dimensional villain we expect, another element that elevates the sequel from a simple cash grab.

We didn’t need “Gladiator 2,” but you’ll leave the theater wishing more sequels were as satisfying.

The film’s unexpected treat? It couldn’t be intentional but the timing intrigues.

The film captures a Roman Empire in decline, tormented by elites who have run it into the proverbial ground. Lucius sparks a populist rebellion, targeting a ruling class that deserves everything coming to it.

Sound familiar, American voters?

HiT or Miss: “Gladiator 2” lacks the narrative heft of the 2000 original, a tepid complaint given the film’s burly sense of purpose.

The post ‘Gladiator 2’ Gets the Bloody Job Done appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.



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It’s no accident Clint Eastwood is still a star at 94. Few share the actor/director’s bond with the American public. He knows what stories ...

It’s no accident Clint Eastwood is still a star at 94.

Few share the actor/director’s bond with the American public. He knows what stories captivate us and what characters count to the American psyche.

“Juror #2” continues that all-American connection.

The drama does a deep dive into the court system, following a juror whose life overlaps with a murder case in shocking fashion. He may be the prime suspect, but no one knows that but him. It’s a slick way to explore our imperfect legal system, one that hangs on our collective moral compass.

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Nicholas Hoult stars as Justin Kemp, a recovering alcoholic and soon-to-be pappy. He’s summoned to jury duty at the worst possible time and he can’t wriggle free. His wife Allison (Zoe Deutch) is a high-risk pregnancy, and he doesn’t want to leave her side as her due date nears.

Little does he know that the murder case in question has a personal connection. The accused allegedly bludgeoned his girlfriend (Francesca Eastwood, the director’s daughter), leaving her body in a ditch off the side of a winding road.

It turns out Justin was near that spot on the night in question and thought he had hit a deer while driving home from the local bar. What if it wasn’t a deer?

FAST FACT: Clint Eastwood worked regularly on TV in the early days of his career, including a guest appearance on the sitcom “Mr. Ed.”

“Juror #2” is a straightforward courtroom drama, diving into the jury’s scramble for a unanimous verdict. Some see an open-and-shut case of a boor whose anger got the best of him.

Others feel it’s too obvious, that law enforcement picked a narrative from the jump and refused to let go. That includes J.K. Simmons, co-starring as a retired detective who senses something missing from the investigation.

Justin is caught between trying to protect the accused without sharing his role in the crime.

Another character brings a selfish motive to the case. Toni Collette plays hard-charging prosecutor Faith Killebrew. She sees a clean guilty verdict as helping her political aspirations.

So why is the case gnawing at her soul?

Eastwood’s unfussy filmmaking fits perfectly with the material. “Juror #2” doesn’t need stylish camera moves or flash cuts. The story supplies all the necessary juice.

The Oscar winner can’t avoid a few cloying moments, like when Justin drops some important paperwork tied to the case. That tic has marked some of his lesser work over the decades.

Age has nothing to do with it.

Jonathan Abrams’ script is muscular and efficient, but it needs space for one under-developed character. Kiefer Sutherland appears briefly as Justin’s AA sponsor, the only person he confides in about where he was the night of the murder.

Otherwise, it’s hard to find fault with “Juror #2.” It’s got a killer hook, an impressive cast and the kind of moral questions that keep our attention from start to finish.

Can Justin’s redemption story overpower an accidental death? Did he inadvertently strike the poor woman on that fateful night? How much did he have to drink before getting into his car?

Eastwood’s 2020 film “Cry Macho” found the aging auteur in a rare and ill-timed stumble. “Juror #2” shows he still knows a solid story and just how to tell it.

HiT or Miss: “Juror #2” takes a can’t-miss premise and knows not to get in its way.

The post ‘Juror #2’ Proves Clint Eastwood Still Has It appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.



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A key flaw with most “message” movies is that they invite a one-sided dialogue if they invite one at all. The filmmakers take for granted t...

A key flaw with most “message” movies is that they invite a one-sided dialogue if they invite one at all.

The filmmakers take for granted that they’re addressing an ideologically homogenous audience. They often ignore the gradations within the political spectrum or the possibility that someone with a diametrically opposite point of view might be curious to hear their side of the story.

They seek nodding heads instead of initiating a conversation.

Ann Marie Fleming’s “Can I Get A Witness?” shouldn’t be a groundbreaker in its attempt to do the latter, but it sure feels like one. It’s nice to watch a movie trying to talk with you instead of talking down to you.

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At an unspecified future date, all our ecological problems have been solved. The waters are clear, the skies are smog-free, overconsumption is no longer a concern and the global carbon footprint has shrunk to the size of your little toe.

Aye, but here’s the rub: this has been accomplished in part by imposing limits on the human lifespan. Once attaining the age of fifty, all are required to undergo euthanasia, accomplished by opening a box containing poison gas.

Surprisingly, most citizens not only agree with this policy but happily comply. They treat their 50th and final birthday as a form of going-away-forever celebration.

Recent high school graduate Kiah (Keira Jang) is assigned her first job as a Witness. She must sketch the last living moments of people to preserve their memory.

Why not just take a picture? Because all forms of photography, digital or otherwise, are among the technologies that have been banned as a drain on energy and resources.

Accompanied by Daniel (Joel Oulette), a more experienced Witness assigned to guide her through her first assignments, Kiah starts to document these final moments according to the wishes of the soon-to-be deceased.

Over time, however, the emotional burden starts to weigh on her and she begins questioning her society’s values, especially since her mother (Sandra Oh, terrific as usual) has started to prepare for her 50th birthday.

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“Can I Get A Witness?” isn’t intended as a realistic depiction of tomorrow. Nor can it be considered a satire, although Kurt Vonnegut fans will likely respond well to its social commentary. It’s best described as a futuristic fable in the tradition of Ray Bradbury, an extrapolation of current trends done in a poetic fashion.

Beautifully photographed by C. Kim Miles on British Columbia’s Sunshine Coast, it captivatingly depicts an improbable but not impossible future, one that has regained much but at a morally uncertain price.

Writer-director Fleming (best known for the wonderful animated film “Window Horses”) has made a finely-crafted discussion piece that isn’t a cinematic argument as much as it is a set of questions:

  • How much are you willing to sacrifice personally for the common good?
  • Can a truly just system impose such demands on its citizenry?

Other than the use of COVID-19 face masks to protect onlookers from the poison gas, there’s very little that’s heavy-handed. Fleming has directed it with a light, lyrical touch that doesn’t detract from the seriousness of the issues involved.

Fleming’s movie belongs to a very small subset of political films that speak to audiences across the ideological spectrum. That list includes Don Siegel’s “Invasion of the Body Snatchers,” Stanley Kubrick’s “Dr. Strangelove” and Rene Daalder’s “Massacre at Central High” (yes, you read that last one right).

Those films deliberately open themselves to multiple interpretations from diverse viewpoints.

Conservatives and progressives alike will find much to respond to with “Witness” and to discuss amongst each other, provided they’re willing to do so. Some viewers who adhere to notions of “human exceptionalism” may see an indictment of what they regard as the irrational and inhumane lengths some activists will go to save the Earth.

Hold on, progressive environmentalists and even the filmmakers themselves might counter. What this movie is really saying is that we need to enact social change right now, lest such radical measures become regarded as necessary for staving off disaster.

Hold on yet again, say the conservative environmentalists and Third Way types: maybe this movie is trying to say that we need to develop a rational environmental policy without losing touch with our humanity or casting away the benefits of civilization.

Any one of these perspectives are valid, and for that matter, all of them could be true at once. There are still other ideas at work, such as those on the roles and responsibilities of the artist in society, that provide further food for thought.

Any film that tries to provoke a civil discussion should especially be welcomed in our fractious landscape.

Paradoxically, if the movie has a major flaw, it’s one of the best things about it. Kiah’s sketches come to life through some beautifully rendered animation seamlessly integrated into the live footage.

The effect is spellbinding, yet it distracts us at times when we should be paying closer attention to characters and dialogue. It’s also used inconsistently, with most of the animated sequences coming at the beginning.

There’s an obvious thematic reason for this. It signifies that Kiah has not just grown up but had her illusions of the outside world dispelled. However, it also makes the use of animation seem unnecessary and self-indulgent when the film is already able to create an ambiance of magical realism without it.

Still, “Can I Get A Witness?” is too strongly made, written and acted to let one flaw completely unweave it. This has been a dreary, uninspired year for movies, with most of 2024’s fare meriting little more than a casual glance.”

“Can I Get A Witness?” is one of the few that deserves a long, hard look.

A.A. Kidd is a sessional university instructor in Canada who proudly volunteers for the Windsor International Film Festival. He appreciates classic movies, hard science fiction and bad puns.

The post ‘Can I Get a Witness?’ Avoids Hollywood Lectures appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.



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Kieran Culkin’s character in “A Real Pain” can light up a room. Just ask his cousin David, played by writer/director Jesse Eisenberg. That ...

Kieran Culkin’s character in “A Real Pain” can light up a room.

Just ask his cousin David, played by writer/director Jesse Eisenberg. That light exposes a tortured soul, one who spikes the road trip template.

Even better? The story’s examination of Jewish pain, guilt and resilience. “A Real Pain” has plenty to say, and you’ll welcome each cultural nod. It’s one of the year’s most satisfying tales.

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Cousins Benji (Kieran Culkin) and David (Eisenberg) fly to Poland to visit their grandmother’s roots. The pair are lifelong friends, a connection sealed by their love for the late matriarch.

They’ve signed on for a tourist trek through Jewish cultural sites, including the remnants of a Nazi-era concentration camp. They’ll cap the trip with a visit to Grandma’s Polish home.

Heavy stuff. Good thing Benji packed plenty of weed and an insatiable need to be the main attraction.

Always.

The two couldn’t be more different. Benji is a livewire who lacks anything close to a filter. David’s “perfect” life is betrayed by neurotic tics lurking not far beneath the surface.

It’s a Mutt and Jeff set up sure to throw off sparks, and that’s before Benji starts acting out among their fellow tourists. He all but tortures their tour guide (Will Sharpe), clashes with his fellow travelers and leaves David crippled by embarrassment.

Why can’t Benji behave?

Benji’s pain rises to the surface. A lot. When it does, we understand why it’s hard for David to push him away once and for all.

Culkin is sensational in a showy role that could have gone sideways. You can sense why Benji can get away with almost anything. His observations aren’t easily dismissed and his charisma leaps off the screen.

Yeah, he’s a blowhard, but he makes compelling points and his passion is palpable. Dismiss him at your peril.

Eisenberg’s directorial eye is deceptively simple. There’s a lyrical nature to his canvas, a plainspoken approach keeping the main characters in focus. David is the straight man, but Eisenberg makes sure we see his character’s moral compass spinning like a top.

The pair attempt to connect with their Jewish roots, a concept fraught with emotional triggers. Beni chafes at a first-class train ride, understanding the tragic circumstances his predecessors faced.

You might call it a virtue signal, but Benji’s pained expression says otherwise.

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Their fellow tourists bring their own emotional baggage to the trip, a journey made harder by Benji’s shtick. A simple sequence where the travelers reveal immigrant success stories is surprisingly genuine.

“A Real Pain” never feels forced or inauthentic.

Even better? Benji choreographs his fellow travelers to pose around a statue exhibit. The joy of the moment explains so much without saying a word.

Dark humor abounds, and Eisenberg knows how to ladle those moments out. He’s just as comfortable with quieter scenes, like when the tourists place stones on a Jewish grave site.

This may be just his second directorial effort, but Eisenberg flashes a visual efficiency that fills in the gaps. The film opens in a bustling airport, revealing the differences between the main characters.

Like most road trip films, “A Real Pain” lacks narrative heft. The journey is the story, allowing the characters to feel their way to a healthier future. 

A simple hug late in the film isn’t just a third-act kicker but a grab-the-Kleenex box moment. That tells you just how gratifying this “Pain” proves to be.

HiT or Miss: “A Real Pain” offers two delightful performances in a road trip dramedy with intent.

The post ‘A Real Pain’ Delivers Bittersweet Buddy Comedy appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.



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Christmas classics, from “Elf” to “Christmas Vacation,” have something special in common. Set aside the laughs, comic set pieces and Cousin...

Christmas classics, from “Elf” to “Christmas Vacation,” have something special in common.

Set aside the laughs, comic set pieces and Cousin Eddie. They have a strong, beating heart behind the merriment.

That also describes “Red One,” the action comedy starring Dwayne Johnson and Chris Evans. The problem? Said heart is buried beneath frantic action, busy plotting and an imagination on steroids.

The latter is rarely a bad thing, especially in sequel-happy Hollywood. “Red One” works best when the comic antics line up with the emotional beats. It happens more than once, but there’s too much time in between.

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Johnson stars as Callum, Santa Claus’ bodyguard. They call J.K. Simmons’ Santa by his code name: Red One. Nothing can happen as long as Cal is by Red One’s side. He’s big. He’s mean. He’s… The Rock, for crying out loud.

Heck, ol’ St. Nick is jacked, too. Guess he gave up on all those cookies.

Cal is mulling an early retirement due to a distinct lack of Christmas cheer. That legendary Naughty List is getting longer every season.

He’s still on the job, but he can’t be by Red One’s side 24/7.

That gives one of Santa’s long-standing foes the opening she needs. That’s Gryla the Christmas Witch (a wildly miscast Kiernan Shipka) who has twisted plans for dealing with that expanding “Naughty List.”

Huh?

Don’t overthink the knotty narrative. Just know that Santa has been kidnapped, and Cal has to team with a wayward bounty hunter (Evans) to save Christmas.

 

 
 
 
 
 
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“Red One” offers endless world-building, clearly hoping to see a “Red One 5: Yule Be Sorry” some day. The box office will have the final say, but audiences will be overwhelmed by the cutesy flourishes and superfluous characters.

It’s all too much. And that’s a shame since Johnson and Evans have fine comic chemistry. The “Captain America” alum is having a blast here, and it’s infectious.

He can do this all day.

The story itself takes too many detours. A visit to Santa’s brother Krampus (Kristofer Hivju) goes on forever with precious little payoff. If you said Christmas movies need more slap fighting, well, this is the movie for you!

Other talented souls got the “Red One” invite but may regret it. That includes Lucy Liu as the head of the E.L.F. security team (not gonna Google what that acronym stands for as a deeply political protest) and Bonnie Hunt as Mrs. Claus.

A better script would give them more to say, no doubt.

Evans is here to crack wise, but he still connects with his estranged son (Wesley Kimmel). The brief bonding between Cal and Red One also tugs at our heartstrings.

More, please.

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It’s easy to dismiss “Red One” as an over-stuffed toy from an industry at its most self-indulgent. Occasionally guilty as charged. And the random swear words should have never made the final cut.

Pre-teens will swallow this silliness whole, and keeping it clean hurts no one.

There’s still some joy to be had for the rest of us. You’ll chuckle more than a few times and enjoy movie stars committed to the cause.

Suffice it to say holiday dreck like “Deck the Halls” and “Christmas with the Kranks” remain far worse alternatives.

HiT or Miss: “Red One” is big, loud and busy, but you don’t have to squint to find scenes to savor.

The post ‘Red One’ Floods Zone with Action Over Christmas Cheer appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.



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Wolfgang Peterson’s “The NeverEnding Story” is a rare children’s film that I respected in my youth for how smart, serious-minded and frighte...

Wolfgang Peterson’s “The NeverEnding Story” is a rare children’s film that I respected in my youth for how smart, serious-minded and frightening it seemed.

Now, 40 years old and still a pop-culture milestone that has expanded beyond being an “’80s movie,” Peterson’s film stands out for being wildly ambitious for its time, accessible and enchanting to its intended audience but edgier than expected.

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We meet Bastian (played by child actor Barret Oliver, who always comes across as authentic), who awakens from a dream and is greeted by a downbeat breakfast. Bastian’s Dad is portrayed as a sour, grieving and private man, played by a pre-“Major Dad” Gerald McRaney.

Both are grieving the loss of Bastian’s mother, though neither can bring themselves to say it. Later, while hiding from school bullies, Bastian discovers Coreander’s Bookstore run by the peculiar Mr. Coreander.

More on him later.

Bastian swipes a book that Mr. Coreander has been taunting him to read, called “The NeverEnding Story.” Bastian then goes to school, ditches his classes, hides in a massive attic (apparently, this school has a storage unit so massive it could house Quasimodo), and reads “The NeverEnding Story.”

Once Bastian is consumed with his book, so are we, as we witness the world of Fantasia, the world-gobbling force of The Nothing, a hero named Atreyu and a talking wolf with glowing green eyes, named Gmork.

The fantasy sequences are initially goofy before taking on a grandeur and pathos. The characters, ranging from the stunning Rock Biter to the Iggy Pop/Mad Hatter fusion of the Night Hob, are vivid, strange and would be at home in worlds created by L. Frank Baum and Lewis Carroll.

Artax, Atreyu’s noble horse, has an especially powerful scene, while details like wearing the Auryn (Atreyu’s snake-linked necklace) and facing “Morla” gain dire importance.

Peterson crafted an exhilarating, daring film, the kind of fantasy epic that knocks us out with its vivid animatronic puppetry but has the tenacity to kill one of the most lovable characters in the first act.

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Some of the creatures are rendered to epic scale, like the side view of a giant turtle, but Falkor the Luck Dragon’s words rarely match his mouth movements. If you can look past that, Falkor is still the stuff of wonder.

On the other hand, the movie didn’t need the batty old couple and sometimes feels more episodic and plot-heavy than it really is.

A delicious idea emerges here – if our minds can go to fantastic places, then can’t these places exist in the space where our most lucid dreams and memories reside? The way Bastian interacts with “The NeverEnding Story” is how most children relate to the books that leave them spellbound.

It’s not a collection of pages we read, but a legend we experience.

Bastian converses with his book in the same way I used to talk to my volumes of Choose Your Own Adventures, particularly when I made the wrong choice, picked a page that resulted in instant death and had me starting over on page one.

The scene where Falkor first appears and saves Atreyu from a swampy death and the fearsome jaws of the Gmork is simply awesome. Outside of “Superman: The Movie” (1978) and “Flight of the Navigator” (1986), these are some of the best flight scenes of their day, back when actors mimicking flight in front of a blue screen was top-tier F/X.

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There are also visions of swirling clouds and a statue whose eyes open and obliterate trespassers with laser beams (an image that terrified me during my grade-school years)

Peterson’s “The NeverEnding Story” (1984) is among the most baffling follow-up movies ever made by an acclaimed director, breaking out after his first big international hit. In this case, Peterson, the German wunderkind, whose “Das Boot” (1980) is among the greatest of all submarine war thrillers, decided his next movie was going to be based on the 1979 German children’s novel, “The NeverEnding Story,” which is around 400-pages long.

It was a lavish production that only covered the first half of the book. Rather than emerging as an embarrassment or foley, Peterson’s film is among the titans of 1980’s fantasy films. Although it’s not quite on the level with “Dragonslayer” (1981) or “Return to Oz” (1985), it holds its own amongst the likes of “Legend” (1985), “Krull” (1983) and “Willow” (1988).

Jost Vacano’s wondrous cinematography and the aggressive editing by Jane Seitz makes this feel timeless, even as the scenes taking place in “reality” feel very Reagan-era. The sad, sweet moment where the Rock Biter mourns not being able to save his friends is key. Yes, there are victories, but Peterson’s film is about childhood guilt and regret.

Among the observations that come up: “People who have no hope are easy to control” and “As people forget their dreams, The Nothing grows stronger.” Perhaps it’s on the nose and lacks the poetry of the dialogue from Ridley Scott’s “Legend” (1985), it’s all far less preachy about the virtues of reading than “The Pagemaster” (1994).

 

Atreyu’s final, scary confrontation with the Gmork is riveting, while the climax is an earnest attempt at a cosmic blending of world collapsing and bridging the “real” world with the written one. Despite the ambition of this sequence, “The NeverEnding Story” can’t go meta and break the fourth wall between us and the fantasy genre, but give it credit for trying.

It’s still impressive for any pre-“The Lord of the Rings” (2001-2003) fantasy epic.

Bastian’s emotional and physical isolation is the center of the story. Yet, this aspect is undermined by the last scene: As a child, I loved the adolescent revenge that takes place on a large scale (so did my eight-year-old when I showed this to her for the first time). Now, it feels like a cheap, dishonest finale, removed from what the film is actually about.

Allow me to finish with this idea: back to Coreander’s Bookstore, where Mr. Coreander knowingly tempts and prods Bastian into swiping The NeverEnding Story. Knowing what we know about Fantasia, how you can exit and re-enter the world at any time, experience narratives that come and go and characters who survive from a literal re-write.

I think Mr. Coreander is Bastian as a grown up, entering into this point in time to give himself The NeverEnding Story when he was a child. If books are a portal that allow us to immerse ourselves, place the story back on the shelf, then re-enter, time and time again, why wouldn’t Bastian use his newfound powers that way (and certainly in a more productive way than weaponizing Falkor in that awful closing scene)?

There was a pair of sequels and an animated series but that, as they say, is another story.

The post ‘NeverEnding Story’ Enchanted Young and Old Alike appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.



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Older stars lose their youthful veneer but often gain something special in the process. Examples? Kevin Costner, Jean Smart and Pierce Bros...

Older stars lose their youthful veneer but often gain something special in the process.

Examples? Kevin Costner, Jean Smart and Pierce Brosnan have only gotten better with age. Add Hugh Grant to that list.

The befuddled hero from 1994’s “Four Weddings and a Funeral” is showing remarkable range as he enters his 60s. He recently stole 2023’s “Wonka” as the sole Oompa Loompa. Before that, he left us shaken with Max’s “The Undoing” (2020). 

Now, he’s giving two Mormon missionaries the fright of their lives in “Heretic.” The spiritual thriller can’t quite close the deal, but Grant’s deft performance is one for the ages.

And, yes, you won’t find “Heretic” playing at any Mormon gathering or spiritual retreat.

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Sister Barnes and Sister Paxton (Sophie Thatcher, Chloe East) are spreading the good word when they knock on the door of a kindly gentleman named Mr. Reed (Grant). Sister Paxton is comically naive about, well, everything. Sister Barnes knows a little more about the secular world.

But not much.

Together, they’re eager to spend time with Mr. Reed, assuming he can coax his wife into the living room. They’re not allowed to speak to a man without a woman present.

Mrs. Reed is busy baking a blueberry pie in the kitchen. That gives her husband enough time to quiz the Sisters on their faith.

Boy, does he have a lot of questions. Some of them make the ladies uncomfortable. Audiences will feel the same way, and that sense of unease is just beginning.

Grant’s Mr. Reed is inquisitive and kind, full of charming contradictions. He’s eager for a robust conversation on faith, but there’s something sinister lurking beneath that genial appearance.

Grant teases it out to perfection. He’s as scary as Freddy, Jason or Michael Myers, eventually .. but maybe not Art the Clown.

Who is, though?

 

 
 
 
 
 
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Writer/directors Scott Beck and Bryan Woods (“A Quiet Place,” “Haunt”) have plenty on their minds about faith, consumerism and western culture. Their screenplay evokes board games and musical lawsuits, catching us off guard.

Grant ties them into one, absurdist bow, never letting us forget the darker themes in play.

It’s mostly smart and sobering, and if you suspect the film has something sinister to say about organized religion you’ve seen one too many Hollywood movies. The story still won’t fit into that neat, predictable box. And the journey is so intriguing you may not realize you’re part of a cinematic finger wag.

Impressive.

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Like too many horror movies, “Heretic” sets up a beguiling premise but doesn’t quite know how to wrap it up in compelling fashion. The third act feels more like a conventional horror film, complete with head-scratching twists and gore galore.

Beck and Woods are so firmly in command you’ll want to push past the narrative chasms. Some are still too much for any genre fan to swallow. Others are absurd, but the devious production design lets us swallow the silliness whole.

“Heretic” unleashes on organized faith, but it does so in a way that leaves some compelling wiggle room. That’s smart and oddly satisfying, a case of lowered expectations from an industry relentlessly wary of spiritual nods.

Still, it would be better if Mr. Reed’s adversaries brought something extra to the conversation. They’re more or less rhetorical punching bags, but the script empowers them in other ways.

The latter feels convenient, not subversive.

That’s a shame. A more robust third-act confrontation would have elevated “Heretic” above and beyond most genre frights. As is, Grant’s transformative turn is more than enough reason to recommend it.

HiT or Miss: “Heretic” gives star Hugh Grant his latest chance to shine, although you’d happily run away from his latest cinematic portrait.

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