Kids need a gateway into the wonderful world of horror, a story teasing the shocks they’ll chase in their teen years (and beyond). “Haunted...

Kids need a gateway into the wonderful world of horror, a story teasing the shocks they’ll chase in their teen years (and beyond).

“Haunted Mansion” could be just the ticket, given its terrific cast and blood-free boos. If only Team Disney knew when to quit.

The bloated affair sneaks past the two-hour mark, an unforgivable decision given today’s short attention spans. Adults will be bored by the non-stop assault of ghosts and ill-conceived punch lines that even the cast can’t rescue.

It’s a Disney theme park attraction, all right, but you don’t have to wait in line and you’ll be happy for it to end.

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LaKeith Stanfield stars as Ben, an astrophysicist who enjoys a meet-cute moment with Alyssa (Charity Jordan) at a New Year’s Eve party. Their love blooms in an effective prologue, one steeped in New Orleans culture.

Wait? Is this a Disney film with a distinct personality? What does director Justin Simien (“Dear White People”) have up his sleeve?

Not so fast. The rest of the film is a paint-by-numbers affair with little local culture in play.

We’re then introduced to Gabbie and Travis (Rosario Dawson and Chase W. Dillon), who in the grand horror tradition of nonsensical plots choose a creaky mansion as their new home. What single parent doesn’t need a house with more rooms than a Trump Hotel to clean?

This mansion’s uninvited guests greet the new homeowners, who swiftly seek out a priest (Owen Wilson) and Ben to … what, exactly? Officially prove the house is haunted? Chase the ghouls away? Attempt an exorcism?

How about, “move this clunky story forward without giving it much thought?”

Again, that’s fine. It’s a Disney summer movie, and we won’t sweat the details if they can’t.

 

 
 
 
 
 
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Gabbie also recruits a daffy psychic (Tiffany Haddish, whose string of weak comedy roles continues) and a local professor (Danny DeVito) who may hold clues to the mansion’s back story.

Kudos to “Haunted Mansion” for attracting such appealing stars. Stanfield not only anchors the film but fleshes out his character’s somber backstory. Screenwriter Katie Dippold (2016’s “Ghostbusters”) packs not one but two sentimental subplots into the mix, but they’re overshadowed by the story’s frenetic ghosts.

Wilson fares the best here on the laugh front, making the most of “meh” lines through sheer force of will. None of the ghosts offer enough personality to mention them in the same breath at Slimer, the “Ghostbuster” franchise’s star attraction.

It’s a Disney film, so we get some gentle lessons about believing in oneself in times of duress. It’s obvious but welcome, never intruding on the story’s essential mayhem. It’s also a woke-free affair, with one of the funnier lines taking us outside the film’s cobweb-covered halls.

Ben asks one of his comrades to call the police if he’s not back in two hours, then mutters, “Never thought I’d say that,” alluding to a black person’s reticence regarding the cops.

We’ll take that woke self-awareness any day.

HiT or Miss: Children are the best audience for the low-expectation comedy “Haunted Mansion,” but the film’s running time might scare them silly.

The post Here’s the Only Reason to See ‘Haunted Mansion’ 2.0 first appeared on Hollywood in Toto.

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He’s ba-aaack! Nicolas Cage took a serious turn in 2021’s “ Pig ,” reminding us of the Oscar-winning actor lurking within the VOD darling. ...

He’s ba-aaack!

Nicolas Cage took a serious turn in 2021’s “Pig,” reminding us of the Oscar-winning actor lurking within the VOD darling.

Suddenly, years of maniacally over-the-top performances (“Mandy!” “Willy’s Wonderland!”) got shoved aside, earning him some of the best notices of his career.

Cage couldn’t stay constrained for long.

“Sympathy for the Devil” lets Cage pull out his bug-eyed stops. That’s wise since this 90-minute thriller needs every ounce of Cage’s magnetism to keep us waiting for the big reveal.

When it comes, it’s a veritable “meh,” but who wouldn’t watch an unhinged Cage hold our hand until that moment?

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Joel Kinnaman stars as David, a frazzled father expecting his second child. His wife’s last pregnancy ended in tragedy, so he wants to be by his wife’s side for the birth. He’s a dad, and he thinks he can will his child’s safe entry into this world.

A wild-haired stranger has other plans.

Cage’s unnamed “Passenger” jumps into David’s car in the hospital parking lot, flashes a gun and tells him to drive.

The cat and mouse game is on. Cage’s character is a stone-cold killer, chewing the scenery as only the “Raising Arizona” star can. David, desperate to reunite with his wife, will do whatever it takes to be by her side.

What if we’re not privy to the whole story? Or perhaps nothing the Passenger says can be trusted?

It doesn’t take long to realize there’s only one way this ends, but it’s still a gas to watch Cage alternately threaten and sweet talk the people they meet along the way.

Director Yuval Adler teases us with style, from the ripe soundtrack to some sharp compositions. He could have gone the full Tarantino-lite, but his restraint here helps the movie. The characters matter more than any, “look at me!” directorial flourish.

Luke Paradise’s screenplay paints the Passenger as a Boston native with a gift for cultural references. He’s no dummy, but he’s also lacking discipline and a moral code.

That tension keeps the story taut, as do the constantly changing situations. What fails “Sympathy” is the back story, the motivations behind the core characters. The film can’t sufficiently flesh them out, and the character’s current actions don’t capture what brought them to this place, this confrontation.

None of that matters when Cage is sinking his teeth into a sequence, flashing his still-potent charisma despite the Passenger’s bloodlust.

You never know what he’ll do or say next, and that spiky turn is enough reason to watch this “Devil” to its conclusion.

HiT or Miss: “Sympathy for the Devil” needs an over-the-top performance to sell its unsteady screenplay. Nicolas Cage is the perfect man for the job.

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Horror movies aren’t immune to plot holes and leaps of faith. Heck, many cling to them for dear life. Even the best horror movies have mome...

Horror movies aren’t immune to plot holes and leaps of faith. Heck, many cling to them for dear life.

Even the best horror movies have moments that leave audiences scratching their heads. It doesn’t matter as long as the atmosphere is creepy and the jump scares give way to the real deal.

“Cobweb” pushes that leniency to the max. Key characters are instantly suspect and the resulting plot twists prove daffier than a certain duck. 

What director Samuel Bodin does with those raw materials is the film’s decadent treat.

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“Cobweb” opens in such a familiar fashion you’ll swear you’ve seen the film before. Maybe twice.

Young, depressed Peter (Woody Norman) is at war both at home and in school. The local bullies tease him mercilessly outside the classroom, but when he gets home it’s his uber-strict parents’ turn.

Mama (Lizzy Caplan) has little patience for his sad-sack state, nor does his stern father (Antony Starr, bringing Homelander’s steely gaze to the production).

The lad is distracted by a knock-knock-knocking from within his bedroom wall. It happens again, and again, while his parents’ take even more callous measures to their parenting handbook.

Now that’s scary.

Does the within-the-wall presence offer another threat to Peter, or is it a chance to learn a larger truth he never expected?

It’s vital to tread lightly here, but just know both Caplan and Starr overplay their stern parenting pose from the jump. The story moves at a breakneck pace, too. That’s good news for those weaned on TikTok, but horror requires atmosphere, suspense and the slow escalation of tension.

Not here.

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The film lays most of its card out on the table, to the point where we expect to fight drooping eyelids during the third act.

Instead, the film’s manic pace and curious characters take on a deeper menace. Yes, some story beats remain too familiar, but Bodin expertly guides us through the family’s curious home in ways that are fresh and authentic.

It’s downright creepy, as are the revelations about the wall knocker and how it ties into the larger story.

The reveals don’t make perfect sense, sadly, robbing “Cobweb” of some satisfying texture. What the film uncorks is still unsettling and, finally, unexpected.

Don’t dwell on any one issue, though, or you’ll be distracted from the fright fest underway.

Performances veer from campy to confusing. The latter trophy goes to Cleopatra Coleman, who exudes compassion as Peter’s substitute teacher. She’s eager to learn more about her troubled charge, but she breaks every rule of the teacher handbook, and then some, to probe the mystery.

Coleman’s performance all but commands the audience to talk back to the screen, but it’s the screenplay’s fault, not hers.

Starr, so very good in “The Boys,” muffs the chance to show a different side to his talents.

“Cobweb” reminds us of “Malignant,” one of 2022’s worst films and a rare misstep for horror maven James Wan. That film took a farcical step in its opening moments and never regained its footings.

The same is similar here, but “Cobweb” eventually delivers both jolts and unease in a way “Malignant” couldn’t.

HiT or Miss: “Cobweb” isn’t a good film, but it’s a story that grabs you early and never comes close to letting go.

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Don’t let “Barbie’s” dreamy, Day-Glo visuals fool you. The film runs on hate, not affection. “Barbie,” inspired by the Mattel toy dating b...

Don’t let “Barbie’s” dreamy, Day-Glo visuals fool you.

The film runs on hate, not affection.

“Barbie,” inspired by the Mattel toy dating back to 1959, loathes men to a degree that would make a Women’s Studies major blush. It hates the Barbie toy itself, dubbing it “fascist” and worse throughout the film.

“Barbie” also hates women with sweet memories of the doll. Just know you supported the “Patriarchy” all those years ago. And maybe even now.

That leaves an ambitious film, scattered with well-earned laughs, that disintegrates during a disastrous third act.

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“Barbie” opens with a clever conceit. What if Barbie Land existed as another universe alongside our real, imperfect world? The toys-as-people conceit is funny at first but quickly loses steam.

Stereotypical Barbie, played with panache by Margot Robbie, suddenly finds herself victim to feelings from that other realm. She thinks about death, for starters, interrupting the dreamy existence everyone enjoys in Barbie Land. 

Except the men. The various Kens, led by Ryan Gosling, are there to be either ogled or ignored. Mostly the latter.

This Uber-feminist world has no need, desire or empathy for Ken Nation. And the lads are perfectly content because they don’t know any better.

When Barbie and Ken leave their world to visit the Real one, everything changes. Ken discovers the Patriarchy, and he likes it! (The screenplay mentions the “patriarchy” 10 times… 10!) Barbie encounters rampant sexism, like AMC’s “Mad Men” on steroids.

Had “Barbie” been set in the 1950s some of this would make sense.

Can Barbie learn why her perfect life is now not so ideal? Will Ken bring the Patriarchy back home? Will a movie that starts with promise curdle during the critical third act?

The answer to the latter, sadly, is “absolutely.”

That’s a shame since director/co-writer Greta Gerwig establishes inventive ways to bring the toy franchise to life. She even drops references to actual Barbie accessories during the film and uncorks a funny faux commercial about a new, “depressed” Barbie doll option.

The production design is sublime. If “Barbie” were an old home you’d say it had “good bones.”

RELATED: ‘BARBIE’ MARKETING IS CLASSIC BAIT AND SWITCH STORY

Gerwig, along with collaborator Noah Baumbach, have an agenda to push that drains the joy from their creation time after time. And it starts from the opening minutes with a cringe-worthy close-up of the all-female Supreme Court (where’s Amy Coney Barrett?).

Feminism! Empowerment! Down with the Patriarchy!

Every time the film gains momentum it pauses to make a mini-speech The characters can’t move beyond these moments because there’s always another minutes away.

It’s the perfect encapsulation of woke storytelling. The AgendaTM matters more than the narrative and mustn’t be denied.

HATE WOKE? YOU’LL LOVE THE HOLLYWOOD IN TOTO PODCAST

“Barbie” could still offer powerful points about sexism in the western world with a less heavy-handed approach. Show, don’t tell. Instead, it tells, and tells, until the story has nowhere to go. That leaves a finale brimming with poorly choreographed fight scenes, dance numbers that make no sense and conclusions that feel almost anti-human.

This movie hates men so much it hurts. Even a key character’s husband is emasculated in his fleeting screen time by both his wife and daughter.

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Gosling’s Ken is alternately cruel and dopey, drowning in a sea of masculine cliches. The rest of the Kens appear, well, gay and equally devoid of any inner life.

Of course, we can’t have so much as a flicker of romance between Robbie’s Barbie and Gosling’s Ken. Ewwwww, gross! That’s not empowering … at all!

“I don’t want you here,” Robbie’s Barbie flat-out tells him at one point. Never mind that little girls bought millions of Ken dolls so their Barbie could have a romance for the ages.

That doesn’t further THIS agenda, so it’s discarded.

America Ferrera, cast as a mother pining for her Barbie-infused youth, delivers a TED talk late in the film that gives the game away. It’s a feminist screed that regurgitates everything said up until that point.

It stops the movie. Cold. “Barbie” never recovers. How could it?

RELATED: GUESS WHAT TEAM BARBIE IS HIDING?

Ferrera’s daughter isn’t exactly pleased to meet Barbie in real life, or are we reading lines like this wrong?

“You represent everything wrong with our culture. You destroyed the planet with your glorification of rampant consumerism … you fascist!”

Oh, and please buy Mattel products after seeing our new movie!

Will Ferrell looks lost as the Mattel CEO trying to track down the runaway Barbie. Is he a cold, cunning capitalist? A man sworn to uphold the Barbie legacy? A male feminist eager to make the world a better place?

Darned if Gerwig and Baumbach can tell, leaving the great comic actor lurching from scene to scene in utter confusion.

The only thing missing from “Barbie?” Those blood-red Handmaid’s Tale costumes. They’re saving those for the sequel, most likely.

HiT or Miss: “Barbie” smartly adapts the iconic toy to the big screen but does everything in its power to destroy it.

The post Woke ‘Barbie’ Drowns In Feminism, Lectures first appeared on Hollywood in Toto.

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Et tu, Neil LaBute? The provocateur behind “ In the Company of Men ” and “ The Shape of Things ” has come a long way, and that’s not a comp...

Et tu, Neil LaBute?

The provocateur behind “In the Company of Men” and “The Shape of Things” has come a long way, and that’s not a compliment.

The writer/director shoved us out of our ‘90s comfort zones, forcing audiences to see the very worst of human nature. And we liked it.

LaBute crashed into a Hollywood ditch via his 2006 “Wicker Man” remake, and his films haven’t been the same since, either commercially or critically speaking.

The 2022 drama “House of Darkness” revived some of his gender-war battles with middling results. Now, he’s in full B-movie mode with “Fear the Night,” saving the film’s epilogue to say something profound about this cultural moment.

Swing … and a miss.

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Maggie Q (who also produces) stars as Tess, an Iraq war veteran struggling with addiction and personal relationships. She joins her sister’s bachelorette party, held at the family’s sprawling vacation home, where she quickly spars with the bridesmaids.

Tess has no filters, and the bridesmaids care a great deal about keeping up appearances. That early friction is both welcome and unusual in a genre release.

Score one for LaBute!

The hedonistic night comes to a halt when arrows start flying through the vacation home’s windows. They’re under attack by white men with an unknown agenda, and the diverse friend group has no weapons or training to defend themselves.

Everyone, that is, except for Tess.

Maggie Q diet

“Fear the Night” goes into home invasion mode in a hurry with agreeable results. The women are forced to swallow their fears and save themselves. Tess tries to prepare them for what’s next, but they’re not ready for military-style training, to be kind.

Few actresses handle action beats better than Q.

The pacing is brisk, the death count rises and LaBute stages it with a mind on efficiency. We even get minor character beats that raise the stakes a tad, like when one of the women asks for a hair band before embarking on a dangerous mission.

That’s smart storytelling.

Yet just when you think “Fear the Night” will rise to something more than a grindhouse lark it pulls its punches. Some of the battles expire with little effort or ingenuity. The perfunctory screenplay sets itself up for a killer line and then delivers something flat and ordinary.

One character dies in the dumbest way possible, and that’s saying something by genre standards.

It’s all wrapped in a tidy, 90-minute bow, but the epilogue suggests a deeper meaning behind the action. Except LaBute can’t pull it off, spinning his wheels while we wait for something meaty to mull over once the chaos recedes.

LaBute may not be able to sell his brand of misanthropic storytelling on in today’s Hollywood. Too triggering! Too masculine!

That’s a shame, because it gave the industry a welcome jolt 20+ years ago. We could use something prickly in our woke age even more.

Instead, the auteur is pandering with professional, but generic thrillers like “Fear the Night.”

HiT or Miss: “Fear the Night” has something to say about women in culture, but it’s far better at delivering grindhouse-style thrills.

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Patrick Wilson’s “Insidious: The Red Door” is the fifth installment in the franchise, and an accomplished directorial debut for the veteran ...

Patrick Wilson’s “Insidious: The Red Door” is the fifth installment in the franchise, and an accomplished directorial debut for the veteran stage/film actor and returning series lead.

Wilson was undoubtedly the right artist to take on this assignment, as the series had been working intermittently at best for the past two sequels, which had strayed from the core family unit of the original.

While there are still some problems with this sequel and it likely won’t convert the uninterested, this is the strongest an “Insidious” film has been since the first sequel.

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The introduction informs us that the Lambert family unit of the first film, led by Wilson and Rose Byrne as Josh and Renai Lambert, have been put under hypnosis since the events of the second film, to forget years of terrible memories.

How terrible?

They have been haunted by a presence that plagued Josh’s long-suffering childhood, immersed into an alternate supernatural dimension called The Further and Josh, at one point, was demonically possessed and tried to kill his family.

Eight years later, eldest son Dalton, played by Ty Simpkins, is off to college and has a rotten dynamic with his father – what comes across on the surface like a generational gap and an inability to connect emotionally is actually the anguish of longing for the missing memories of their past.

Dalton’s quirky, sympathetic roommate Chris (a scene stealing Sinclair Daniel) comes to his aide, while his art classes inadvertently open up suppressed memories. Eventually, everyone is seeing monsters in the dark.

Wilson directs with an approach that matches the chilling precision of the first two films, though this is far more than just a fine-tuned scare machine (though it is that, too).

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The subtext here is rich, as buried father/son regrets and secrets are killing both father and son from within, and a broken family dynamic occurs because the hold a prior set of parents holds over Josh, even in death. As in Ang Lee’s “Hulk” (2003), an unopened door is the key to everything, both keeping the monsters out and making things worse by locking away what must be faced.

It’s not much deeper than that, but the film is always compelling because of the real and relatable issues it brings up.

If one were to edit all of the supernatural scenes out of this, it would still work as a film about a broken family unit struggling to reconnect with what they’ve lost. If I didn’t care about any of these characters, this wouldn’t have worked, but the intensity of the performances works with the inventiveness of the production.

Originality has never been the strong suit of the “Insidious” franchise and a quality the films have had to overcome. I saw the first “Insidious” when it was the second bill on a double feature at the Mesa Drive-In at Pueblo, Colorado; the first movie showing was the premiere of the hit and mostly miss “Scream 4,” followed by “Insidious,” which cribbed a great deal from “Poltergeist” (1982) but still managed to terrify me.

FAST FACT: The First “Insidious” earned $54 million in 2010. “Insidious: The Last Key,” the fourth film in the saga, brought in $67 million in 2018.

It was so effective, I saw it again the next day with a friend and gleefully watched him jump out of his seat as often as I did the night before (I’m not usually this sadistic to my friends, and we’ve since laughed about the experience).

The following “Insidious: Chapter Two” (2013) also borrowed as great deal from another well-known source (in this case, “The Shining”) but, to my delight, evoked memories of Herk Harvey’s “Carnival of Souls” (1962) and managed to be even more clever and scarier than its predecessor.

The subsequent entries, “Insidious: Chapter 3” (2015) and “Insidious: The Last Key” (2018) had their moments, though I can recall the scariest parts far better than any of the characters or narratives.

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The third and fourth entries of the series leaned in the direction of the supporting ghostbuster characters, led by the always wonderful Lin Shaye. The overuse of comic relief and sentiment didn’t help (and, tellingly, is used sparingly here).

“Insidious” represents a valuable contribution to the American horror film genre, which had, at one point, become overrun with lame PG-13 teen horror movie remakes/slashers and “torture porn” grimace inducers, like the “Hostel” series.

While horror fans can undoubtedly name scarier movies than “Insidious,” the franchise, as well as the subsequent “The Conjuring,” “Annabelle” and “It” movies, place an emphasis on mood, suspense, and genuine scares, as opposed to gore and gross-outs, as well as character and story.

Most mainstream horror movies don’t care enough to be examples of great filmmaking. Wilson’s film is a B-movie ghost story in the best way; “The Red Door” isn’t a home run like Mike Flanagan’s “Doctor Sleep” (2019) or “Ouija: Origin of Evil” (2016) but it’s close.

A character mentions the use of “negative space” in art, a telling choice, since here is a horror film that uses this technique as a master class. We’re watching scenes intently, as we can tell the pace has slowed, the music grows quiet, and the stillness is inevitably going to be interrupted by a blast of a scary image or (the lazier choice) the score raising its volume.

An early scene where Josh sits alone in his car, unaware of a presence that slowly manifests in the distance, is wonderful. So is a bit with pictures taped to a window that provide a peek-a-boo effect and a petrifying scene where Josh has an MRI.

Less effective is a moment where someone recalls that Josh once chased his family with a baseball bat: it’s a blatant reference to “The Shining” and jarring enough that the line should have been axed.

Also, this is among the few American films that, rather than celebrate the stupidity of grotesque college frat boy behavior, spoofs it in a welcome, unexpected touch.

If this is the final entry (and the conclusive feeling of wrapping things up at the end indicates that it is), the series is going out on a compelling note. The best of the series remains “Insidious: Chapter Two,” with its formidable villain and jolting imagery; parts 3 and 4 are never referenced here and that’s fine, as this nicely connects itself to the first and best entries (and even does some “Back to the Future Part II”-style sequel hopping).

While the “Insidious” series is only 13 years old, “The Red Door” isn’t a nostalgia inducer or a money grab. It’s a proper dramatic extension of the core focus of the first two films. If you like these movies, then you’ll enjoy how much Wilson invests in these characters and in really scaring us.

Three Stars

The post ‘Insidious: The Red Door’: A Superior Horror Sequel first appeared on Hollywood in Toto.

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David Mamet’s “The Spanish Prisoner” (1998) is the playwright-turned-filmmaker’s most enticing cinematic work. The theme is the disadvantag...

David Mamet’s “The Spanish Prisoner” (1998) is the playwright-turned-filmmaker’s most enticing cinematic work.

The theme is the disadvantage of being a nice guy in a world of opportunists who are all too happy to take advantage of someone who is intelligent, kind and naïve. In fact, the protagonist is literally a Boy Scout.

We meet Joe Ross (Campbell Scott), who invents a money-making algorithm/business practice called The Process, which his firm has sent him to the Caribbean to sell. In addition to feeling unease in his own skin (Joe is nice but awkward), he immediately feels the squeeze his work is putting on him over The Process – questions of inter-office trust, nondisclosure forms and which colleagues he can confide in spoil his initial excitement over the project.

A nice touch?

When Joe writes the amount of money on a chalk board The Process is projected to provide, we don’t see the amount, only the look on the faces of the businessmen.

This is smart direction, as the camera follows all the details we should be following.

Our everyman wants financial success but has principals – while on the Caribbean trip, Joe has his first encounter with Jimmy Dell (a wonderful, wildly against type Steve Martin). Dell offers $1,000.00 for Joe’s camera, which Joe turns around as a “favor” and just hands over to him.

From there, an unusual, somewhat brotherly back and forth builds between the very different men. Jimmy’s initially prickly demeanor becomes a kind of mentorship, as Joe is all too happy to learn how to carry himself in the presence of the rich and powerful.

If The Process is to be Joe’s legacy, then Jimmy is just the person to introduce him into an environment of privilege and cutthroat business maneuvers.

FAST FACT: David Mamet worked at a number of jobs before embracing the arts, including taxi driver, waiter, real estate salesman and a short stint in the Merchant Marines.

So fully immersed in neo-film noir, Mamet’s film could easily have been in black and white. This is more Kafka than Hitchcock, a portrait of justified paranoia. The use of shadows, tight framing on the principals during telling moments and dialogue that knowingly explores thriller tropes (“Who in this world is what they seem?”) suggest a self-knowing exploration of the concept.

The contrast of “You rich people” with a self-described “working man” comes across the strongest between the delicious scenes between Scott and Martin. Mamet may have envisioned a stage-bound design at the heart of his narrative, but he shapes the scenes in imaginative ways (the contrast between Dell’s spa room at night and the same location at day is cleverly depicted).

The ultimate design of Mamet’s narrative is intricate – and so much fun – that you might even forget that you’re watching a thriller for the first hour.

As a playwright-turned-director, there is an inevitable staginess to many of Mamet’s films, though he gradually found the creative means of “opening up” his film works and finding confidence and visual acumen as a filmmaker.

Following his moody, winning 1987 debut “House of Games” (also about the art of the con), Mamet’s subsequent “Things Change” (1988), “Homicide” (1991) and “Oleanna” (1994) were all worthwhile explorations of men playing the roles presented to them in society and finding their weaknesses preyed upon.

After “The Spanish Prisoner,” Mamet wrote and directed the noteworthy period drama, “The Winslow Boy” (1999), and two standout thrillers for the ill-fated Franchise Pictures – “Heist” (2001) and the excellent “Spartan” (2004). Mamet’s last written and directed film to date is the exceptional Chiwetel Ejiofer vehicle “Redbelt” (2008).

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As a screenwriter, perhaps Mamet’s track record is even more impressive, having written “The Verdict” (1982), “The Untouchables” (1987), “Glengarry Glen Ross” (1992), “Hoffa” (1992), “Wag the Dog” (1997) and “Ronin” (1998), to name a few.

While Mamet’s origins as a gifted mimic of human speech (his scripts famously have long pauses, stumbled words and an ellipsis to evoke casual, authentic dialogue, requiring some actors to use a metronome to rehearse the cadence properly) are among his defining qualities as an artist, his work as a film director remains under-appreciated.

Unlike, say, Neil Labute, Mamet’s filmography doesn’t have an equivalent of “The Wicker Man” (2006) undermining the best work. Mamet never found outright commercial success like playwright-turned-helmer Sam Mendes.

Although perceived as a small sleeper upon its release in 1998, “The Spanish Prisoner” has an ease, a cool rhythm to Mamet’s reliably stylish wordplay and a sleight of hand skill in its storytelling that mark the best of his creative output.

David Fincher’s flashier, far darker “The Game” (1997) was released only months earlier and has a similar “the world against one man” concept (both are like Alfred Hitchcock’s 1959 “North by Northwest” with all the dread and none of the big set pieces).

While less visceral and intense than Mamet’s film, “The Spanish Prisoner” is still better.

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Scott is perfectly cast as the audience surrogate, though Joe is guarded and kind of snobbish enough to fall a little short as an Everyman we can always root for. Pidgeon’s performance has a theatrical quality from the very beginning, which winds up a fitting touch for the character. She has a way with odd phrases, like “Shows to Go You” and “Dog My Cats.”

Legendary illusionist Ricky Jay gives a cheeky supporting turn as Joe’s business colleague and Ben Gazzara brings an appropriate level of mystery as someone is either on Joe’s side or constantly undermining him in the shadows.

The best and most surprising turn naturally comes from Martin, who, before or since, has never given a film performance like this. Playing a man exuding elegance but emotional distance, Martin gives his character that perfect blend of someone you can’t take your eyes from, even as we can’t quite find a true entry into his private life.

It’s an excellent turn, as much a hidden jewel in Martin’s body of work as the film is in Mamet’s filmography.

A reference is made about competing at the business level with the Japanese. Later, someone notes the Caribbean as a popular location for Japanese tourists. It leads to a jokey final reveal during the climax that comes across as awkwardly dated and inappropriately jokey, the one touch in the film I hated. Better is the use of “Budge on Tennis” and how a valuable totem (in this case, an antique book) can be used as a passport to a different social class.

There’s also the moment in which Jimmy casually creates a Swiss bank account for Joe, a “lavish awkward gesture,” a scene that is perfectly written, directed and performed.

While the profane grit of “Glengarry Glen Ross” and the anguish of “American Buffalo” are, perhaps, the go-to examples of Mamet’s brilliance on film, his output as a director is full of little treasures like “The Spanish Prisoner” and in need of rediscovery.

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It had to happen sooner or later. The latest film in the “Mission: Impossible” franchise isn’t as startling as the last installment. The sa...

It had to happen sooner or later.

The latest film in the “Mission: Impossible” franchise isn’t as startling as the last installment. The saga, which seemed to grow bolder with every outing, is finally showing its age. Slightly.

That doesn’t mean “Dead Reckoning – Part One” isn’t the summer’s best roller coaster ride, at least given the dubious competition. Team Cruise delivers a third act that feels as raw, and rollicking, as anything you’ll see on screen this year.

It’s time to clutch your armrest, folks. Hard.

It’s the rest of the film that under-delivers, pushing expository conversations to the brink. Maybe this story should have wrapped in one installment?

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Tom Cruise returns as Ethan Hunt, and his eagerness to break all the rules has finally caught up with him. The government wants to shut him down, along with the rest of the IMF crew. That means he’ll need all his spy trickery to stay one step ahead of the U.S. government.

Why, it’s like he drove past the Capitol on Jan. 6.

Staying out of jail isn’t Ethan’s only item on his “to do” list. There’s a new threat to the globe, one that impacts every digital interaction possible. This super software can be manipulated by a key that’s been separated in two, and everyone is hell bent on uniting the pieces.

Why? To what end? “Dead Reckoning” doesn’t sweat the small stuff, and man is there plenty of it in this bloated adventure.

Spy tales aren’t known for rigorous storytelling and airtight plots, but the questions bubbling up during the sequel can’t be dismissed. Meanwhile, much of the dialogue involves key characters explaining why a certain plan is set in motion or the potential fallout from said plan.

Horror films often feature that dreaded “expository scene” where a character, typically older and grizzled, lays out what’s been going on up until that moment.

“Dead Reckoning” is chockablock with these interludes, which are almost comical by the film’s midway point.

You can’t blame the cast, from a dedicated Cruise (does he have another mode?) to regulars like Ving Rhames, Simon Pegg, Rebecca Ferguson and Vanessa Kirby as the White Widow.

The new face of consequence is Hayley Atwell, cast as a thief with a skill set that makes Ethan sit up and take notice. She’s a superb addition, as is “Guardians of the Galaxy” alum Pom Klementieff as a mysterious assassin.

Add one of the industry’s best character actors, Shea Whigham, and you’ve got a cast worthy of the franchise.

The human villain? Esai Morales plays an old Ethan Hunt foe who resurfaces with far more lethal ambitions. The character underwhelms, in part, because it’s the rise of Artificial Intelligence that’s the true scoundrel here.

How timely. How cinematically inert.

The screenplay, credited to director Christopher McQuarrie and Erik Jendresen, flirts with our growing tech fears and other ripped-from-the-headlines themes. The results? Smart, probing questions and wildly dumb interpretations smash into each other like a soapbox derby race.

That’s spy business, but “M:I” films often avoid the larger-than-life tropes from the sillier Bond installments.

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“Dead Reckoning” simultaneously succumbs to sequelitis – even the characters make meta jokes tied to the M:I team’s rap sheet – and moves beyond it. The action here is different, grittier, as if the “Bourne” films were fused with the franchise DNA.

One fight scene finds Ethan battling two foes in a tight street corridor, and it’s exhilarating. The film’s signature set piece takes place on, in and around a train, and it’s both extravagant and far superior to a similar-minded scrap in “The Dial of Destiny.”

Score another for Ethan Hunt and the actor who never stops running to save cinema.

HiT or Miss: “Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning Part One” packs more flaws than recent installments, but no franchise can match it’s stunning, superior stunt work.

The post ‘Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning Part One’ – Hold on Tight! first appeared on Hollywood in Toto.

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One of the oldest film franchises has once again been given new life and, as always, the announcement brings both hesitation and measured ex...

One of the oldest film franchises has once again been given new life and, as always, the announcement brings both hesitation and measured excitement for longtime fans.

Eddie Murphy is now the lead of an upcoming redux of “The Pink Panther.” News that Murphy is up for the role of Inspector Clouseau will not come across as a slight to legendary actor and series star, the late Peter Sellers.

After all, reports of a newcomer taking over for Sellers is nothing new; in fact, it’s a reminder of how many times this has already occurred.

From 1963 to 1975, Peter Sellers starred as Clouseau, the moronic but relentless French Chief Inspector whose assignments ostensibly spring off from a theft of the Pink Panther diamond (the series’ long-running McGuffin).

The series was noteworthy for being a showcase for Sellers’ comic brilliance, franchise director Blake Edwards’ skill with large-scale slapstick comedy, a bevy of attractive co-stars, striking and hilarious animated opening title sequences and especially Henry Mancini’s silky, charming theme music.

There was a single, off-brand entry: “Inspector Clouseau,” starring Alan Arkin in the title role (his French accent sounds more like his own voice than an affectation of Sellers). It was directed by Bud Yorkin, lacks the Mancini music and I only mention it for the sake of completion, as the film’s existence is the most interesting thing about it.

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Otherwise, Clouseau was to Sellers what James Bond once was to Sean Connery.

In addition to Clouseau’s amusingly impenetrable accent, clever disguises and ability to leave a pile of rubble wherever he goes, the other series regulars included Herbert Lom’s longsuffering Inspector Dreyfuss and Burt Kwouk’s martial master Cato (Kwouk brought dignity to a potentially demeaning part).

There would also be opportunities for the original “Pink Panther” co-stars David Niven, Capucine and Robert Wagner to make welcome cameos. The first film arrived in 1963 and the title character (the panther, not the diamond) became the star of long-running cartoons a year later.

As the franchise grew older, Sellers depended greatly on stunt doubles to perform the dangerous slapstick gags the script demanded and the inspiration began to wane. When Sellers died in 1980, it seemed the film franchise would cease without him.

RELATED: WHY ‘BEVERLY HILLS COP’ IS THE PERFECT ’80s MOVIE

However, with the box office consistently strong for the United Artists tentpole and Edwards willing to keep going, the franchise continued.

The first Clouseau comedy to be released after Sellers’ death (and the first since “Revenge of the Pink Panther” in 1978) was “Trail of the Pink Panther” (1982), in which a TV reporter (played by Joanna Lumley, years before “Absolutely Fabulous”) investigates Clouseau’s disappearance and interviews characters from prior entries.

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In between these dry vignettes are outtakes from prior “Pink Panther” entries. At the time of the film’s release, many accused the film of being a cash grab and an easy way to make money from the memory (and discarded work) of Sellers. Countering this position by suggesting the film is a loving tribute to Sellers only goes so far.

Following a brief prologue of the Pink Panther diamond being stolen once again, a title card announces “To Peter, The One and Only Clouseau.” The outtakes on hand aren’t all golden, with many going on too long and indicating plainly why they needed to be cut in the first place.

Use of a double in the final scene, with a Sellers impersonator opening his coat to reveal the cartoon Pink Panther underneath, suggests the longevity of The Pink Panther franchise is as much about the animated panther as it is Clouseau.

After most of the end credits, the film announces, “Curse of the Pink Panther, Coming Soon.” This is where the real trouble begins.

FAST FACT: Peter Sellers initially planned to be a professional drummer before his innate mimicry skills convinced him to follow a more comedic path to fame.

Opening a year after “Trail of the Pink Panther” was met with a shrug, we got the entirely Sellers-less “Curse of the Pink Panther” (1983). The good news is that Herbert Lom’s increasingly insane Dreyfuss continues to steal these movies and, when the films became especially tired, the animated opening credits were always a highlight.

On the other hand, the franchise’s insistence that Clouseau is still alive and missing is as dubious as keeping Paul Walker’s character oddly intact in the “Fast and Furious” universe. The odd premise of “Curse of the Pink Panther” is that Dreyfuss summons the world’s greatest detective to find Clouseau and settles on Sgt. Clifton Sleigh, a New York cop who, from the first scene, is clearly an imbecile.

However, whereas Sellers found physical and verbal innovations to bring his character to life, Wass’ amateurish, unfunny turn never connects. As in the prior entry, it’s now Lom’s movie. Wass, to be fair, had an impossible task of following Sellers and had a much better time as a television actor (this movie and “Sheena” the following year ended his film career).

Edwards is still staging massive set pieces, and a few stand out for their hutzpah (Sleigh’s failed initial meeting with Dreyfuss and a drop through a glass sunroof are especially impressive). A late-in-the-film cameo by a major star to fill in for Sellers is the most successful and inspired idea here. What the film achieves most is spotlighting Sellers’ absence and inability to get ahead of it.

Edwards was also looking elsewhere at this point, with the creative and box office successes of “10” (1979) and “Victor/Victoria” (1982) indicating more grown-up fare ahead. While Edwards continued to make more slapstick-heavy comedies, only the John Ritter-led “Skin Deep” (1989) was worthy of being compared to his earlier works (in fact, why wasn’t Ritter hired to for the lead in “Curse of the Pink Panther”?).

A decade after “Curse of the Pink Panther,” Edwards gave the series one last shot and it wound up being his final film: “Son of the Pink Panther” (1993). The last of the original incarnation has a terrific start- the opening titles combine live action and animation, with the Pink Panther sharing the screen with Henry Mancini and Bobby McFerrin (whose new take on the music works).

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It’s an excellent opener. The villains are introduced and, as led by Robert Davi, Mike Starr (sporting a Mario Bros. mustache) and Jennifer Edwards, come across with the kind of grit and force you’d expect from a “Die Hard” sequel.

Give Edwards credit for trying something different. The contrast of introducing the title character, a moron like his father, should click since the spawn of Clouseau taking on a vicious group of criminals has rich possibilities.

Yet, while Roberto Benigni (pre-Oscar but already a popular comic worldwide) works hard as Clouseau’s son and gives himself to the physical demands of the role, his performance is irritating.

Attempts to connect this with the prior entries (Kwouk makes a welcome appearance, as does Claudia Cardinale, though not as the same character she played in the first “Pink Panther”) mostly work, and Edwards dependably goes big with the set pieces.

Yet it runs out of energy at the midpoint, coasts for far too long and invests more energy in the action sequences than the comedy. A last-minute attempt to suggest a sequel is unconvincing, as audiences ignored the film stateside (it was a bigger hit overseas, where Benigni had a greater following).

For 13 years, the Pink Panther went into hibernation.

The 2006 remake, starring Steve Martin as Clouseau, lacked Edwards or any real need to be made. However, the dependably brilliant Martin had a hand at writing the screenplay and, due to this and some choice moments, there is scattered hilarity throughout.

Martin does the Sellers’ French accent, which may not have been the best choice, as it only makes for the inevitable comparison. While the plot and feel of the film is generic, some scenes connect (Clouseau’s failed dialect course is a riot) and co-stars Kevin Kline (an inspired choice for Dreyfus) and Beyonce (pre-megastardom and charming here) help a great deal.

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The ’06 “Pink Panther” overcame bad word of mouth and became a surprise hit. The 2009 “The Pink Panther 2” was, not unwisely, aimed more at kids and, despite a few good physical bits, is far more unnecessary than its predecessor and failed to connect with audiences.

Now, after rumblings that Mike Myers might take on Clouseau, no less than Axel Foley himself is attached. Naysayers should keep in mind that Jerry Lewis purists once balked at Murphy remaking “The Nutty Professor” and that the star, when in the right project, is a comedy force of nature.

Is Clouseau a good fit for Murphy or will he be the latest actor to demonstrate that only Sellers truly owned the role?

Whether Murphy’s take on Clouseau connects or misfires, we can be assured that Clouseau, like 007, Indiana Jones, John Shaft and Freddy Krueger (to name a few) will always live on, though with the caveat of being forever associated with the original actor in the role.

Is that unfair for Murphy and, for that matter, did that work against George Lazenby and Alden Ehrenreich in “On Her Majesty’s Secret Service” and “Solo: A Star Wars Movie” respectively? Yes, but there’s something to be said about an actor finding their way into a role, even one that is impossibly iconic and owning their interpretation.

As time and a lot of false starts have proven, not just anyone can don a mustache, overcoat and thick French accent and simply do what Sellers did. Time will tell if Sellers is the only actor brilliant enough to play someone as remarkably stupid as Inspector Clouseau.

The post Eddie Murphy Has Big Shoes to Fill in ‘Pink Panther’ Franchise first appeared on Hollywood in Toto.

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