Barry Jenkins’ “Mufasa: The Lion King” is a visually splendid but overly familiar semi-sequel, mostly prequel to Jon Favreau’s CGI motion-capture 2019 remake.

I’m not fond of either of the new photorealistic versions but still find the 1994 animated original to be enthralling. There’s a lot of nostalgia in “Mufusa,” which basically tells a near-identical plot and soars the highest when playing the same notes as the first film.

For most of this new movie, I just wanted to go home and watch the old ’94 “Lion King.”

The events of Favreau’s ’19 remake are recapped in an amusing bit where Timon and Pumba (played again by a less-than-ideal comic dream team of Seth Rogen and Billy Eichner) tell a version of the prior film’s climax in which they are story’s true heroes.

Then we’re off to the proper prequel, in which a young Mufasa (Aaron Pierre) is separated from his parents and must hold his own in a different pride.

Mufasa’s best friend is another lion cub named Taka (Kelvin Harrison Jr.)- the two forge a tight bond that is tested by the uneasy relationship Taka has with his father and Mufasa’s insistence on finding a magic land far beyond their own. Meanwhile, a vicious lion named Kiros (Mads Mikkelsen) aims to destroy everyone in his path.

Jenkins manages to sneak in a few moments that mirror the remarkable opening of his “Moonlight” (2016). There are also some odd bits, like a moment where the camera is meant to replicate how it would look if Mufasa was trotting with a GoPro camera. Yet, I actually wish there were more of these moments here, as most of this looks like pixels and the tapping of laptop keyboards just doing their thing.

So much of Jenkins’ film is a pleasure to look at but I rarely felt anything or cared about it.

The one bit that really got to me is one of the very last moments in the film, where the meager growl of a lion cub in the present is juxtaposed with the mighty roar of an older lion in the past. Other than that, the experience of just watching the pretty pictures has its appeal but I’ve found myself far more transfixed and emotionally engaged by just looking out the window of a commercial flight.

Mikkelsen makes the most impression playing the central villain, though his appearance is predictable. Considering how Mikkelsrn, a versatile actor, managed to not only be persuasive but original in his take on Hannibal Lecter (in the fantastic “Hannibal” series) and made strong impressions in the recent Indiana Jones and “Fantastic Beasts” installments, his work here is efficient but too safe.

It’s like how Christopher Walken became a frequent, always amusing but obvious choice for the bad guy in too many flicks. I hope Mikkelsen doesn’t become the next Mark Strong.

Donald Glover and Beyonce Knowles give vocal performances that must have taken five minutes, tops, to record. James Earl Jones, one of the greatest voices (if not actors) in cinema, gets a welcome, brief tribute at the very beginning.

None of the actors enhance this the way Jones and Jeremy Irons made the original electrifying.

The frequent interruptions from Timon and Pumba has some amusing and unnecessary asides, like a reference to the Broadway “Lion King.” The most telling thing our comic duo has to offer is noting how much screen time Rafiki gets in the second act.

In fact, it’s a great observation – why isn’t the entire movie about Rafiki, as his story is presumably more interesting and less formulaic than what we have here.

The new songs by Lin-Manuel Miranda are all duds, with the least being a dumb villain anthem titled “Bye Bye,” among the lamest songs in the Disney movie jukebox. The score only soars when its replaying Hans Zimmer’s gorgeous themes from the original and utilizing returning vocalist Lebo M on a few tracks.

Otherwise, the songs could and should have been cut, which is the last thing I thought I’ve ever write about a cinematic offspring of “The Lion King.”

EXCLUSIVE LOOK: Behind the scenes of #Mufasa: The Lion King with Beyoncé and Blue Ivy pic.twitter.com/ghcYMibhA8

— Good Morning America (@GMA) December 10, 2024

When it was over, the plot synopsis I had to offer someone who asked was, “They walk, they sing, they run, they walk, they sing, they run…”

We’re now 30 years away from the robust initial Disney remake, “Rudyard Kipling’s The Jungle Book” (1994), 10 years removed from the bold 2014 “Maleficent” (one of my favorite films of that year) and the charming, respectable “Cinderella” (2015).

In between were two amusing but unnecessary Cruella Deville flicks (the ones with Glenn Close, not Emma Stone) and Tim Burton’s limp “Alice in Wonderland” (2010). The subsequent live-action remakes, which include “Aladdin” (2019), “Pinocchio (2022), “Dumbo” (2019), “The Little Mermaid” (2023) and “Beauty and the Beast” (2017), are among the worst movies of the early 21st century.

I won’t make an obvious joke about the forthcoming “Snow White,” “Lilo and Stitch” and “Moana” live-action Disney remakes we don’t need and didn’t ask for, either. I’ll just lower my expectations, hope the Mouse House somehow nails “Tron: Ares” and throw on my favorite Elton John/Tim Rice/Hans Zimmer soundtrack CD, in order to permanently scrape “Bye Bye” from memory.

Two stars

The post ‘Mufasa: The Lion King’ – Watch the Original ‘King’ Instead appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

Nicole Kidman’s character in “Babygirl” has it all. Almost literally.

She’s the CEO of a powerhouse tech company, has two adoring teens and her dutiful spouse looks suspiciously like Antonio Banderas.

Her descent into lust, the kind we rarely see in modern movies, is the heart of this erotic drama. It’s a shame that the story caps in a cowardly way that feels all too predictable given 21st-century mores.

Kidman’s Romy Mathis oversees a company embracing the edge of our high-tech world. In between digital innovations, she carves out time to meet interns eager to jump-start their careers.

That includes Samuel (Harris Dickinson), a lanky gent who seems unimpressed by the company’s stature … or its leader. He makes a beeline for Romy, forcing a mentorship program with her despite her brutal schedule.

She can’t seem to shake his professional advances despite the power imbalance. He has other intentions beyond career advancement, and Romy has few defenses against them.

Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge.

We’ll spare the details, but he coaxes her into a sado-masochistic relationship that threatens everything she holds dear. That includes her doting husband Jacob (Banderas), clueless that Romy isn’t satisfied with their lovemaking.

That’s putting it mildly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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“Babygirl” offers handsomely choreographed sex scenes that leave little to the imagination. Writer/director Halina Reijn (the criminally overrated “Bodies Bodies Bodies”) has little time for psychological nuance. This is about power, from a CEO who lords over her minions to the lover who brings said CEO to her knees…. And then forces her to lap up milk from a saucer.

That’s one of the few bits that can be revealed.

Romy hungers for something dangerous and exotic. She finds just that in her randy intern, ignoring how the affair could destroy decades of hard work, love and loyalty.

That’s certainly enough to sustain our interest. It also suggests fireworks will deploy in the third act, in some shape or form.

The resolution, alas, isn’t just devoid of detail or emotional resonance. It’s regrettably woke, even though other previous subplots are anything but. One of Romy’s underlings proves duplicitous in ways that skewer feminist groupthink.

It’s unexpected and refreshing. Real life is rarely woke, which is why the cultural scourge stained movie-making over the past decade.

‘Babygirl’ director says the film is her answer to Nicole Kidman’s ‘Eyes Wide Shut’ role https://t.co/n9jtmJCtCM

— Entertainment Weekly (@EW) December 23, 2024

“Babygirl” features another sublime turn from Kidman, although the screenplay’s lack of nuance undercuts her performance. The narrative hints at her troubled past but it’s just lip service. Other psychological elements are equally thin.

This kind of story doesn’t just need a solid ending, an exclamation point to the narrative foreplay, it demands it. Reijn’s third act doesn’t come close. Affairs leave permanent scars. Marriages are never the same, even those that recover in some fashion.

“Babygirl’s” resolution proves glib, malnourished and deeply manipulative. Kidman’s bravura turn, and a romance that will tantalize more than a few viewers, deserve better.

HiT or Miss: “Babygirl” offers steamy interludes and another superlative turn from Nicole Kidman, but the resolution short-changes the film’s best efforts.

The post ‘Babygirl’ Capsized by Woke, Wobbly Ending appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

Rachel Morrison’s “The Fire Inside” arrives at the same time as the smaller but also accomplished boxing sleeper, “Day of the Fight.”

Morrison’s film takes the opposite approach to that film in terms of presenting its big matches – whereas “Day of the Fight” is a long build up to a great boxing match, “The Fire Inside” front-loads all the training and fight scenes, which are fierce and well staged, but then goes in a surprising direction by portraying the aftermath of a big match.

In this true story, Ryan Destiny stars as Clarissa “T-Rex” Shields, a boxer from Flint, Michigan who shows promise as a young child, works her way up in the ranks and gives her all to training for the Olympics. Clarissa’s trainer, Jason (a movie-stealing Brian Tyree Henry) knows how powerful his athlete is and that her achievement in the ring contrasts the hardships she faces in her life, which only presents dead ends.

“The Fire Inside” is tough, quiet, character-driven and gritty. It reminded me not of “Rocky” (1976) or even “Girlfight” (2000) but Clint Eastwood’s “Million Dollar Baby” (2004).

“Moonlight” director Barry Jenkins wrote the screenplay and produced, presenting a story that could have felt like an inevitable, feel-good drama or simply an ESPN-ready bio. Instead, there’s a harsh gravity to this that extends to the Flint setting.

I first became aware of the town when it was featured in Michael Moore’s landmark documentary, “Roger & Me” (1989). The Flint on view here is full of poverty and little options for the citizens who live there. Rather than allow “The Fire Inside” to become heavy-handed, political and or allow social commentary, Jenkin and Morrison keep the focus on their protagonist.

A scene that truly floored me is when Clarissa is sharing an intimate moment with her boyfriend, then tells him something she has never told another soul. It’s a heartbreaking confession and one of the many ways the film goes right – “The Fire Inside” is about character and resists sports movie cliches.

Morrison’s film is unsentimental and does everything it can to counter expectations by telling the story in a gloss-free, straightforward manner.

Tyree Henry first caught my eye with his unsettling, intimidating villain turn in Steve McQueen’s terrific “Widows” and has been a scene-stealer in so many subsequent films and television roles. While Destiny’s star-making turn is newsworthy (she connects to the complex inner pain of the character) Tyree Henry anchors the film and gives one of the year’s best performances.

Despite how strong the first two acts are, Morrison’s film can’t sustain the energy of the first half and loses momentum in the third act. Yet there is dramatic power in the final confrontation between Clarissa and Jason, which could have been played in a very Hollywood manner.

Instead, it’s as straight forward, tough and understated as the rest of the film.

A tough question “The Fire Inside” addresses: What does it mean to compete in the world’s greatest international multi-sport event, win a gold medal, and then return to your hometown broke and with no career momentum?

How Ryan Destiny Managed to Keep ‘The Fire Inside’ https://t.co/s3OLRYL9NB

— IndieWire (@IndieWire) December 23, 2024

There are many other films about amateur boxers who go the distance, most of which are real “Cinderella” stories and have conclusions that feel inevitable. It’s nice to watch a sports drama that leaves you feeling good, like you just left a game where your home team won.

Movies are like that, too. I also appreciate a movie like this, where the result of the big match and the character’s journey are less assured, as is the definition of victory.

Three Stars

The post ‘The Fire Inside’ Avoids ‘Rocky’ Template at Every Turn appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

Robert Eggers’ “Nosferatu” is the real deal, a faithful remake of the landmark silent film, a passionate love letter to horror films as an artform, and a terrifying, intense ride that will rattle even those comfortable with the genre.

You have been warned.

For everyone else, keep your hands inside the rollercoaster, make sure you’re strapped in and hang on. This one will leave teeth marks.

The original 1922 silent film classic of the same name by F.W. Murnau is an unofficial but fairly faithful adaptation of Bram Stoker’s “Dracula.” As in Murnau’s film, the names of the iconic characters have been changed (for example, Dracula is now Orlok, Jonathan Harker is Thomas Hutter, etc.) and the nightmare-inducing Count is bald, bat-like, dons a hat and seems ready to tear your throat out at any moment.

In 1838, Hutter (Nicholas Hoult) is the unlucky real estate agent sent to close a can’t-lose, high-paying deal with the mysterious Count Orlok (Bill Skarsgard) at his Transylvania castle. Hutter tries to conceal that he’s aware of the danger he’s immediately in when in the presence of the pale-faced creature who insists Hutter call him “lord.”

Meanwhile, Hutter’s wife, Ellen (Lily-Rose Depp) has been under Orlok’s spell for some time, but it now manifests itself in seizures and mania once her husband comes close to the Count. The only one who seems to know how to face Count Orlok is the peculiar and haunted Prof. Albin Eberhardt Von Franz, played by Willem Dafoe, whose appearance in this makes him a vampire cinema hall of famer.

Dafoe starred in “Shadow of the Vampire” (in which he portrayed the actor playing Orlok in the making of Murnau’s film), “Daybreakers” (2010) and “The Hunger” (1983). The latter marks one of his first film appearances.

Eggers’ film is genuinely shocking and made electrifying by Skarsgard’s performance as Orlok. In the same way I never would have guessed it was Colin Farrell beneath all that makeup in “The Batman” (2022) and “The Penguin” (2024), there’s no sign of Skarsgard here, just the heart-stopping embodiment of an undead living nightmare.

Had the role gone uncredited, there would be no way of knowing who was beneath the astonishing makeup and that horrid voice. Count Orlok makes the actor’s Pennywise the Clown look like Ronald McDonald.

Skarsgard gives an incredible performance.

Beautiful, vicious and darkly funny at times, “Nosferatu” is an ode to how horror films can tap into our subconscious fears, as well as how they can look like a beautiful nightmare. Another aspect of Eggers’ film that needs to be mentioned: it’s often too much.

There’s little subtext or allegorical exploration here, as Eggers is able to show outright what Murnau (and Werner Herzog and Francis Ford Coppola and everyone else that followed) could only suggest.

It goes very far.

The blend of sex and violence will challenge some, though the bit with Simon McBurney’s Herr Knock (this film’s equivalent of Renfield) demonstrating his madness on an innocent creature will likely be the moment that has the squeamish bolting for the exits.

If the pre-title sequence alone seems as though Eggers’ vision is overwhelming, then save yourself the trouble and abandon ship early. I’m sure there’s plenty of seats left next door for “Moana 2.”

RELATED: BEST ’80s VAMPIRE MOVIES

For everyone else, Jarin Blaschke’s cinematography rates somewhere between Ridley Scott’s “Legend” (1985) and Darren Aronofsky’s “The Fountain” (2006). That’s another way of saying every shot is carefully framed, staged and fantastic looking.

Rose-Depp throws herself into the role of a woman stalked by a literal monster her entire life, while Hoult is excellent at playing escalating panic. Dafoe’s take on the Van Helsing equivalent is relatively restrained.

Obviously inspired in some ways by Coppola’s “Bram Stoker’s Dracula” (1992) and Herzog’s own remake, “Nosferatu The Vampyre” (1979), and not as good as those, but it’s still a rich expression of horror cinema on a large scale. As his prior work demonstrates, Eggers uses the horror genre to craft personal films, works that are confrontational, provocative and very bloody.

I can’t wait to see what he does next.

Three and a Half Stars

The post ‘Nosferatu’ Refuses to Hold Anything Back appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

Brady Corbet’s “The Brutalist” opens with a knockout sequence.

Toth, an architect (Adrien Brody) who fled his country and arrives in America by boat, emerges outside the seacraft and sees, at a cockeyed angle, the Statue of Liberty.

The image also graces the film’s poster. Corbet, who reportedly directed this epic-scaled period drama for around $10 million, takes us into the story with an approach that is as literary as it is demonstratively cinematic.

We learn that Toth is coming to America in 1947 and begins his new life by working in a furniture store. He awaits the opportunity to bring his wife (an affecting Felicity Jones) stateside. A chance encounter with a hot-tempered Van Buren (Guy Pearce) suggests his entry into the U.S. has been professionally derailed.

Actually, it presents the beginning of the tough journey ahead.

Much of “The Brutalist” feels like an E.L. Doctorow novel adapted by Bernardo Bertolucci (the early goings reminded me of Bertolucci’s “1900” and “The Conformist” as much as Doctorow’s “Ragtime” and “Billy Bathgate”).

The storytelling is confident and unhurried, and the characters are as intriguing as the narrative. I was swept up in the telling, even as there is an episodic quality to the structure, which comes with chapter headings. Frankly, I’m glad Corbet decided to make this a theatrical release and not break it up into a televised mini-series.

The decision to film this in Vista-Vision alone makes it an event on the big screen, as the cinematography is full of aesthetic beauty as much as clever angles for audience immersion (I love a stolen moment when we watch an intimate conversation through cigarette smoke).

Brody has always been a generous, hard-working actor, whether in films like this and “The Pianist” (2002) or when he’s overqualified to enhance pulpy popcorn flicks like “The Jacket” (2005) and “Predators” (2010). He’s incredible in “The Brutalist,” giving Toth enough dimension and inner life to often make me forget I was watching the former star of “King Kong” (2005).

Pearce is also excellent, allowing an ambiguity and feeling of distrust to never entirely leave his equally complex characterization.

The three-hour and twenty-minute running time will be a major issue for most. I suspect the temptation is to either go all in or decide to wait for the inevitable, far less encapsulating streaming premiere.

Look, even if you have a big-screen TV with solid surround sound, don’t miss the opportunity to see this the way it’s meant to be seen. If there’s a good-sized theater near you or you are among the lucky to have an IMAX theater in town, this is worth the trip.

Is ”The Brutalist” as great as everyone seems to claim? I enjoyed and admired Corbet’s film but I have some caveats.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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I love the decision to include an Overture and a 15-minute intermission (a superb inclusion, well-handled here, that last year’s “Killers of the Flower Moon” and “Napoleon” both could have greatly benefitted from).

However, even with the mid-movie break, with a great stopping point (even the onscreen image that remains during the 15-minute countdown is well chosen), I found the movie’s second half nowhere near as strong as the first.

What goes wrong? It’s not so much that the film missteps as much as Corbet and co-screenwriter Mona Fastvold pile on the melodrama and histrionics, which they managed to avoid for the first hour and a half. By adding so much of the dramatic over the trickier character building and the unexpected narrative building, I found the last hour to be tedious and predictable.

This isn’t to say that the movie belly flops or derails, only that the unrushed pacing and long scenes were now flush with big moments that you could see coming.

The final scene is pat and unsatisfying, with a full-circle visual that doesn’t pull everything together. In the first 90 minutes, I was aware of the very cinematic moments Corbet leans into, particularly the emotional reunions at train stations and the conversations that will inevitably lead to high-stakes story advancements.

Being self-conscious of how much one leans into classic cinema isn’t a bad thing; I only grew tired of this when the climactic encounters were overloaded with heated confrontations that seemed both obvious and a product of Screenwriting 101.

Again, to be clear, it doesn’t make “The Brutalist” a lesser film – like P.T. Anderson’s “There Will Be Blood” (2007), a brilliantly made film that also wore its welcome, I grew fed up with the whole thing by the end but still savored much of the film.

Director Brady Corbet and stars Adrian Brody and Felicity Jones spoke with Observer about how the A24 film ‘The Brutalist’—an intimate love story and historical epic—came together. https://t.co/2QX2aO0vCO

— Observer (@observer) December 20, 2024

If “The Brutalist” is slightly overrated, then fine. Despite my issues with the latter portion of the film and belief that it doesn’t conclude as strongly as it should, I found most of it engrossing.

A small item to bring up: despite opening in limited, then in wide release, the film currently sports no MPAA rating. There are some sex scenes and nudity that would easily garner an R rating.

If you long not just for the films of the 1970s but ones that replicate what the structure and filmgoing experience of a long-form story presented as an event night, run don’t walk to catch “The Brutalist.”

Full disclosure – despite my reservations I’m planning to see Corbet’s film a second time.

Three Stars

The post ‘The Brutalist’ – A Flawed but Fascinating Epic appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

Pedro Almodovar’s “The Room Next Door” immediately sets up its premise.

We meet Ingrid (Julianne Moore) signing copies of her new book. Ingrid learns that her dear friend Martha (Tilda Swinton) has been diagnosed with stage 3 cervical cancer. The two rekindle their friendship (some time has passed since they last saw one another) and eventually become roommates.

As Martha’s health worsens, she warns Ingrid of what is ahead, specifically that if her door is closed in the morning, it probably means she has died.

“The Room Next Door” is Almodovar’s first English-language film. It won the Golden Lion at the Venice Film Festival and is based on Sigrid Nunez’s 2020 novel, “What Are You Going Through.”

I had to see this one twice, as I wasn’t sure it worked the first time. I initially felt that the dialog was too mannered and that the presentation was too stagey and not cinematic enough. Also, considering how heavy the material is, I was unsure that the lightness of tone and dialed-down style (Almodovar’s films are usually saturated with color) fit the story.

Upon revisiting the film, I found that the opening scene not only set up the story and themes perfectly (a common trait in Almodovar’s work) but I was stunned by an exchange between Ingrid and a customer that I somehow missed the first time:

While autographing her latest novel in the bookstore, a customer walks up to Ingrid, hands her a book and, as Ingrid signs it, the customer asks, “Can you please write, It Won’t Happen Again?” The customer then assures Ingrid that, indeed, whatever happened, it won’t happen again.

The moment hit me hard. Despite how many of Almodovar’s films can be described as melodramas (not always a complimentary word), his best works aren’t just richly cinematic but deeply compassionate about his characters.

“The Room Next Door” is no different.

There are some flashbacks, but most of the film is like a theatre piece, as Martha and Ingrid discuss the past and reflect on choices they’ve made. The flashbacks feel like mini-melodramas, but there’s no camp, as Almodovar plays down the pulpiness as much as possible.

Anyone who remembers why Almodovar’s “Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down!” (1990) was an early recipient of the NC-17 rating will be as surprised as I was to how much restraint there is here.

Because Almodovar wastes little time getting to the core of the film, which is the extended conversations shared between Ingrid and Martha, the film has little filler, invites us to enjoy the conversations and avoids being depressing. Alberto Iglesias’ Bernard Herrmann-esque score is an interesting touch, especially since this isn’t a thriller.

Let’s talk about Almodovar’s prior films, which typically showcase visual symmetry and costumes and sets that are color coordinated to perfection. You might forget the plot of an Almodovar film, but you won’t forget how it looks and makes you feel.

His best films aren’t just riveting stories with terrific performances but true expressions of cinema.

I’d cite the top of hill being Almodovar’s “Volver” (2006), “Broken Embraces” (2009), “The Flower of My Secret” (1995), “The Skin I Live In” (2011) and his most recent masterpiece, “Parallel Mothers” (2021). Almodovar also has an affinity for Hitchcock, hence his most shocking films “The Skin I Live In” (featuring a towering, career-best turn from Antonio Banderas) and “Bad Education” (2004).

While Almodovar’s latest is far less lush than one would expect from such a maestro, it’s among his most heartfelt. Note the scene where Ingrid meets an unexpectedly sweet, sensitive personal trainer. The movie doesn’t need that scene but I’m glad it’s there, as it gives us another window into Ingrid.

Swinton’s American accent is flawless, as is her chemistry with Moore. To no one’s surprise, both actresses are excellent here. “The Room Next Door” likely sounds like a disease-of-the-week TV movie in plot description, but Almodovar’s handling of the material, even as it defies our expectations of him, elevates it above the ordinary.

The flashbacks aren’t always great and the scenes with John Turturro, playing Ingrid’s friend and former lover, succeed in opening up the story but the film didn’t need them. The Turturro scenes reminded me of “Mindwalk” (1991), a three-person film where a conversation both existential and pretentious lasts the entire running time.

I love films where characters have great conversations that make the audience feel like coffee shop eavesdroppers. Also, it’s a welcome touch to have movie dialog that isn’t always about the plot.

Nevertheless, even with an actor this good, we don’t need the Turturro scenes. Turturro’s character suggests, halfheartedly, that Martha’s ailment is a symbol of the post-pandemic planet, another misstep.

On the other hand, there’s a great supporting role from Alessandro Nivola, who energizes the third act just when you’d suspect the film would be winding down.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Whenever the focus is on Martha and Ingrid on their terms, the film works and succeeds in exploring the issue of being aware of one’s death without allowing it to ruin the life you have. The key visual of a closed door is enough to induce dread and allow enough of heaviness to linger in certain moments.

There’s also a nice reference made to both John Huston’s “The Dead” (1987) and James Joyce’s 1914 story (reading the latter in college was a game changer for me as a young writer).

My overall feelings towards “The Room Next Door” are somewhat mixed, as the best and lesser qualities go hand in hand. Nevertheless, any film from Almodovar is an event, as is the opportunity to watch Swinton and Moore deliver a master class in acting.

The strongest scenes here aren’t the ones that push the plot but those little surprise occurrences that you feel deeply afterward.

Three Stars

The post ‘The Room Next Door’ May Surprise Almodovar Fans appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

Where would the “Sonic the Hedgehog” franchise be without Jim Carrey?

Chances are the box office numbers would still be sky high, but mostly from tweens and gamers addicted to its high-fructose storytelling.

Carrey brings the laughter, the killer punch lines and the slapstick that makes “Sonic” a treat for all ages. Yeah, he’s that good. Still.

That’s less the case with “Sonic the Hedgehog 3,” the weakest link in the saga. Yes, Carrey pulls double duty in two funny roles, but the franchise’s CGI excess crushes the film’s third act.

We’re talking pancake flat.

Our favorite blue hedgehog (Ben Schwartz) is loving life with his best pals Knuckles (Idris Elba) and Tails (Colleen O’Shaughnessey).

Their peace is shattered when a fellow hedgehog named Shadow (Keanu Reeves) wakes from a 50-year slumber at a military encampment.

Don’t ask…

He’s bent on revenge for the death of his dear friend, and his transportation abilities make him an existential threat to Sonic, his pals and maybe the globe. Desperate times call for desperate collaborations, leading the team to unite with old foe Ivo Robotnik (Carrey) to stop Shadow.

Can the evil one be trusted? What about Robotnik’s long-lost grandpa (Carrey, again)? Whose side is the old timer on, anyway?

The plot is far more complicated than necessary, and alliances shift every 15 or so minutes. Buckle in.

Sonic’s “parents” Tom (James Marsden) and Maddie (Tika Sumpter) get less to do this time around, but their live-action presence matters. So does the sense of family evoked early and often.

Is this part of an undisclosed, “Fast & Furious” shared universe?

The rest is comic mayhem aided by slick CGI effects and Carrey’s innate charisma. He sells every pratfall, rehabilitating wan punch lines and crushing the better ones. A gag targeting the “Green Lantern” flop is nearly worth the price of admission.

It’s out of left field, but who cares? That’s just “Sonic!”

It’s all visual chaos, and that’s before a finale that features so many false endings you’ll stop caring midway through. This chipper franchise might collapse if Carrey ever commits to his retirement schemes.

Two extended musical sequences, one tapping a great Traveling Wilburys’ song, suggest the need to kill time by any means necessary. Why not wrap matters up in a tidy 90-minute package? It’s exactly what a kid-friendly, occasionally inspired franchise needs?

Hollywood’s “go long or go home” running time strategy continues to confound.

Every time “Sonic” hits a narrative pothole it rebounds with a clever line or inspired visual gag. The film’s kitchen-sink approach may be lazy, but that collective goodwill will grind down the most cynical movie goer.

It’s hard to be mad at a film dedicated to silliness of the highest order. And who does silly better than Ace Ventura, franchise detective?

HiT or Miss: “Sonic the Hedgehog 3” is more of the same, which is good news if you love Jim Carrey’s unrivaled brand of comedy chaos.

The post ‘Sonic the Hedgehog 3’ Gets Double Dose of Jim Carrey appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

James Mangold’s “A Complete Unknown” is one of those musical biopics that gives you what you expect, if not demand, but also manages to be better than the formula typically allows.

What formula am I referring to?

The one where we meet our down-and-out musician who gets an opportunity to shine before a potential handler (cue the wide-eyed reaction shots of the soon-to-be-manager), followed by rehearsal and concert montages, the second act blow-ups and screaming matches, followed by the third-act redemption, which usually takes place on stage in front of hundreds of screaming fans.

Don’t forget the self-conscious dialog that arrogantly points to the future (example: “You’ll never amount to anything, not with a name like that…DAVID BOWIE!”) and already sounds like the inevitable “Saturday Night Live” parody to come.

I am so sick of these movies.

The thing about most music bios, particularly those made during the past 25 years, is how the majority are based on the lives of artists who are still alive, have joined the project as a producer and can dictate the direction of the film. Hence, a lot of these films are watered down and fairly generic.

Not all of them, to be fair, but many of them are promo pieces for the soundtrack and disposable as TV-movie level dramas. Yes, you get a great soundtrack and a showcase for a lead performer who can impersonate (and usually lip synch) like a pro, but there’s a sameness to so many of these movies.

Then there’s “A Complete Unknown,” which somehow adheres to the formula and expectations of The Bob Dylan Movie but doubles down on the music, the unflattering details and the artist’s stubborn belief in his art.

The result is a film that feels less like it’s ready for VH1 than something as exhilarating, unflattering and refreshing blunt as the best of these kinds of films (more on them later).

We meet Timothee Chalamet’s Dylan as he hitchhikes into town and heads to the hospital to visit his ailing musical hero, Woody Guthrie (Scoot McNairy). In the presence of Guthrie and his friend/folk singer Pete Seeger (Edward Norton), Dylan plays Guthrie a song he wrote about him.

Chalamet’s rendering of the tune (as well as a pitch-perfect take on Dylan), the understated way the actors play it, and Mangold’s staging announces this will not be a typical “Behind The Music” movie.

Dylan’s slow ascent, random encounters and growth as a songwriter/artist make up most of the narrative, which halts every few minutes to play a knockout tune and add another quirky touch to Dylan’s legend.

Essentially, even though he has presented various versions of himself and his artistry (something Todd Hayne’s weird but fascinating 2007 “I’m Not There” explored), Dylan is unknowable. Mangold and Chalamet seem aware of this and give us a poet and maestro whose music spoke to a generation, even as the man behind them could be aloof or, as presented here, off-putting and self-centered.

I love Mangold’s first two films, “Heavy” (1995) and “Copland” (1997) and recognize his depiction of Dylan being akin to the awkward, soulful outsider protagonists of those films. Mangold course-corrects himself after his successful but overpraised “Walk the Line” (2005), the Joaquin Phoenix/ Reese Witherspoon led drama about John and June Carter Cash that is respectable but so generic, the inspired parody “Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story” (2007) spoofed it and just about every cliché in the genre that proceeded it.

Mangold’s latest isn’t a definitive Dylan film, though, outside of maybe D.A. Pennebaker’s 1967 “Don’t Look Back” documentary (I say maybe because even that film isn’t the whole story), I doubt such a film is possible. “A Complete Unknown” fails to probe Dylan’s psyche (learning who is the Real Dylan is probably impossible, if the interviews are any indication of how he keeps his enigmatic mystery intact).

Is there a Definitive Dylan Movie at this point? I’d say it’s probably the bizarre, rambling and fascinating “Masked and Anonymous” (2003), with its all-star cast, dreamlike take on a post-apocalyptic world and positioning Dylan as the star, a man who has the answers for a fallen world. Dylan also co-scripted it.

I’m not saying “Masked and Anonymous” is good, only that I’ve never forgotten it and, as notable bad movies go, it’s worth seeing at least once.

In terms of the most visible missteps in “A Complete Unknown,” Dan Fogler’s broad, “SNL”-ready performance as Dylan’s manager is a big distraction. The scenes of Dylan’s long-suffering girlfriend (Elle Fanning) are overly familiar.

Like Oliver Stone’s “The Doors” (1991) it’s overlong, occasionally loses focus by trying to cover so much ground and, during the second act, it’s sometimes too much but not enough (Wait, who was Dylan dating in that one scene, who he sent walking home two minutes later? Did that keyboardist really nail the “Like a Rolling Stone” intro by sheer accident?!).

Yet, like “The Doors,” it centers around a towering lead performance, provides a young audience to bask in so much great music and so many great scenes to pull you back in whenever the film threatens to become unfocused.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Dylan is still with us, and his legacy has some remarkable, mystifying and still-unexplored career turns that could probably fill another documentary. Mangold was wise not to cram in everything and just focus on the time Dylan became Dylan…the first time.

The exceptions to this genre are “What’s Love Got to Do with It” (1993), “La Bamba” (1987) and “The Doors” (1991). The rest? Most rock bios are more soundtrack promo than substance (Exhibit A: “Rocketman,” “Bohemian Rhapsody,” etc.).

Mangold and Chalamet’s performance make us understand why Dylan challenged and inspired the counterculture, 20th century musicians and everyone that came after.

“A Complete Unknown” roughly covers the first few years of Dylan’s legendary career, which Mangold depicts in as straightforward a manner as possible. When Chalamet is in profile, it feels like the movie is pausing to be iconic…which it earns, because, whether in profile or filmed straight on, I kept forgetting I was watching Timothee Chalamet.

Here’s another amazing thing about Chalamet- the end credits reveal he sang the long list of Dylan songs himself. Likewise, Norton. What an undertaking and achievement for a film actor.

Norton gives the kind of warm, endearing turn he typically reserves for Wes Anderson. Monica Barbaro gives a knockout turn as Joan Baez, a scene-stealing Boyd Holbrook nails the edge and pull of Johnny Cash (yes, I liked his take on the man better than Phoenix’s), and, at the center, is the moving turn by McNairy as Guthrie.

If you’re not a fan of this music or never heard it, I suspect the film will win over the uninitiated and create new fans.

What is Mangold’s secret to making this movie soar as high as it does? Rather than drown his audience in anecdotes and music bio formula, he bludgeons us with brilliance –  Chalamet’s amazing performance, some of the greatest songs ever recorded and so many great scenes and supporting performances.

They collectively elevate this over so many 2024 event films.

Three and a Half Stars

The post ‘A Complete Unknown’ Shreds Biopic Formula appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

Joe Dante’s “Gremlins” isn’t just a seminal work of 1980’s pop cinema but a very-dark horror/comedy set at Christmastime.

It’s often funny, occasionally sweet but more often a truly nasty piece of work. I mean that latter quality as a compliment.

Billy Peltzer (Zach Galligan) is a kindhearted teen who works at a bank in his Kingston Falls hometown to support his stay-at-home mom (Frances Lee McCain) and Willy Loman crossed with H.G. Wells father (Hoyt Axton).

Billy is in love with co-worker Kate (“Fast Times at Ridgemont High” alum Phoebe Cates). A humble life of small victories and massive embarrassments (courtesy of his dad and dog) takes a fateful turn when Mr. Peltzer gives Billy his Christmas gift, which he acquired in Chinatown.

The present, a small creature called a Mogwai (the first of many amazing puppet effects from Chris Walas’ team), is quickly named Gizmo and comes with a set of rules.

All together now:

• Keep it out of the light
• Never get it wet
• And, no matter how much it begs, never feed a Mogwai after midnight

Dante never allows any of this to feel real – note the nuns riding in the catamaran in the opening shot. This is clearly a movie with backlot sets, mood lighting and a quirky, muscular synthesizer score by Jerry Goldsmith.

Truthfully, the whole gremlin angle, particularly in the way Futterman describes it, was done better a year earlier in George Miller’s segment of “Twilight Zone – The Movie” (if you listen closely, you can hear an early version of the “Gremlins” theme pop up in Goldsmith’s magnificent score for that film, which also features a fantastic Dante segment).

Dante’s depiction of small-town America is affectionate, though every bit as realistic as his biting and wonderful “The ‘burbs” (1989). (The two films would make a great double feature).

Despite the town being lorded over by the rotten Mrs. Deagle (a go-for-broke, underappreciated turn by Polly Holliday), we grow to like Kingston Falls and the people who live there.

Dante takes advantage of that by killing most of the likable supporting characters.

Galligan has a sweetness that reminds me of a young Anthony Perkins (you know, before he did that Hitchcock movie). I always feel bad bringing up “Nothing Lasts Forever,” the sci-fi comedy Galligan made that barely came out the same year as “Gremlins,” as it’s never been properly released.

I had the joy of seeing that film, which co-stars Bill Murray, Dan Aykroyd and Imogene Coca and, in mentioning it, hope it will inspire enough curiosity that someone, somewhere will release it.

It’s a masterpiece. Anyway, back to “Gremlins.”

Cates’ performance is never forced and must sell how someone so nice and lovely can live in a town visibly populated by very few teenagers. I’ve seen Judge Reinhold’s cut scene, which is no longer in the theatrical version – it’s actually better this way, as his deadweight final, excised moment was better served as a first-act cameo.

No one has contributed more classic films to the horror genre than Joe Dante (THE HOWLING, GREMLINS, THE ‘BURBS, MASTERS OF HORROR, and on and on. Joe is our guest on the latest POST MORTEM podcast on the Fangoria Podcast Network, recorded live in Lucca, Italy! pic.twitter.com/x0kQbqFGdM

— Mick Garris & The Post Mortem Podcast (@MickGarrisPM) June 19, 2019

Dante fills his cast with wonderful character actors and allows everyone from Axton, Dick Miller and Glynn Turman to steal their scenes. Cates’ infamous second-act monologue is typical of the balancing act Dante is pulling off on a scene-to-scene basis.

Yes, there’s a gallows humor punchline that could have been in the pages of “Truly Tasteless Jokes,” but Cates plays it so real, there’s a genuine sadness to it (at least, until they cut to a Gizmo reaction shot that makes it too funny to be taken seriously).

The final battle between Gizmo and the vicious Stripe is really something – watch how Stripe goes after this kid with a crossbow and a chainsaw! Yes, it’s funny but, my gosh is this movie violent!

The controversy over the film’s violence understandably rattled audiences (the microwave bit is said to be the culprit, but I’d say Mrs. Peltzer getting torn up by a Gremlin hiding in a Christmas tree is the real reason).

Yes, Steven Spielberg is the film’s executive producer (and has a gratuitous cameo in the same scene as Robby the Robot) but this is closer to his “Poltergeist” than “E.T. The Extra Terrestrial.” Hence, between this and “Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom” both creating controversy over the level of mayhem for a PG-rated film, the PG-13 arrived not along after.

Joe Dante in a promotional photo for Gremlins pic.twitter.com/PjH2PCqYPl

— 80sTees (@80stees) September 24, 2024

Today, with the ultraviolent shenanigans of Art the Clown bringing the uber-gory, Christmas-set “Terrifier 3” to the top of the box office, the notion of a Christmas-themed slasher comedy is quaint. “Gremlins,” on the other hand, maintains a real edge, especially in its second act, where we’re not always meant to laugh.

The infamous Christmas-set, serial-killer-in-a-Santa-suit slasher film “Silent Night, Deadly Night” appeared months after “Gremlins” and actually inspired protests and boycotts. The national hubbub around that movie succeeded in getting it taken out of theaters (after strong early box office).

Now, Christmas horror movies or horror/comedies like that film or “Gremlins” typically show up every December. Everything from “Violent Night” (2022), “Krampus” (2015), “Black Christmas” (1974/2006/2019) and even the original 1996 “Scream” (which portrayed no specific holiday but boldly and successfully opened on Christmas) owe “Silent Night, Deadly Night” and “Gremlins” a malicious cackle of gratitude for paving the way for the mainstream success of anti-yuletide films.

FAST FACT: An earlier version of the “Gremlins” script had Gizmo turning into the wicked Stripe. Dante said producer Steven Spielberg suggested an alternate idea that helped seal the film’s fate as a pop culture treasure. 

It only took a few years, if not months, for the inevitable rip-offs to turn up. Behold, the likes of “Ghoulies” (1984), “Munchies” (1987), “Critters” and “Troll” (both 1986). Dante’s eventual “Gremlins 2: The New Batch” (1990) is arguably better, unquestionably funnier, as it plays like a parody of the first film and of sequels in general.

Dante’s true fans will note that his in-between work, the flawed but wonderful “Explorers” (1985), the about-perfect and totally gonzo “Innerspace” (1987) and “The ‘burbs” (1989) are among his most eccentric, Looney Tunes-infused and brilliantly manic works.

Is there subtext to unpack here? Mr. Peltzer purchases Gizmo not from Mr. Wing (played by legendary Keye Luke, of the Charlie Chan film franchise), who refuses to sell him the Mogwai, but his grandson, who acts less in disobedience and more in desperation. He says his grandfather’s age and the need for money spurred him on.

Mr. Futterman distrusts anything “foreign” and is aware of the notion of “gremlins,” though it’s worth noting that he is eventually dispatched (at least, until the sequel) by a Gremlin driving his Kentucky Harvester.

Is that irony or just plain mean?

What are we to make of this? I’m unsure that screenwriter Chris Columbus, let alone Dante, intended for any of this to be taken seriously.

Mr. Wing returns in the final, forced confrontation to give a lecture about Billy not being ready to be a Mogwai owner. He also expresses concern over Gizmo being allowed to watch television.

Is this movie about how something pure is turned into a monster after exposure to American pop culture? If so, I’ve been a Gremlin since 1984. Most of my friends are cackling, video game-loving, mischief-making Gremlins.

In fact, if you’re still reading this, you’re a Gremlin, too. Merry Christmas.

The post ‘Gremlins’ Remains a Nasty ’80s-Era Triumph appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

Jack Huston’s “Day of the Fight” begins with the familiar but becomes something truly special.

To be specific, I was emailed a press note from the director that this isn’t a boxing movie but a movie about a boxer. Alright, but to not undersell it, the film does have a great boxing match as its climax. It also earns its place as a sleeper, a boxing movie akin with “Diggstown” (1992) and “Girlfight” (2000). It’s a smaller, scrappier, less Hollywood take on a well-established sports genre.

In the establishing scenes, we meet boxer Mike Flannigan (Michael Pitt) who we see starting his long day leading up to a fight later on. Huston shot the film in black and white.

As Flannigan does his morning jog through cold streets, wearing warm clothing and a cap, running towards the camera, as triumphant music plays, I was deeply worried. Surely Huston has seen “Rocky” parts 1-6, as well as “Raging Bull” (1980)”?

Did the director and creative team realize they were inching too close to duplication instead of tribute? For much of the beginning, I feared Huston and his team either didn’t know or didn’t care that this is too similar to what came before it to go the distance.

Thankfully, the feeling of déjà vu fades.

The story moves from one encounter to the next, as Flannigan interacts with members of his community, some of whom are rooting for him, while others are weary of him. As the story takes us from one conversation to another, the film took hold. “Day of the Fight” may be overly familiar in the early stretch, but it has a lot of heart and earns the long build up to a great climactic bout.

Pitt, the character actor whom I always associate with “The Dreamers” (2003) and “Funny Games” (2008), has aged well to play Flannigan. He resembles Tom Berenger, connects to the just-keep-moving trajectory of the role and gives an excellent performance.

One of the prime attractions here is to see Joe Pesci on screen again, and the Oscar winner contributes an unexpected turn that I won’t describe. Pesci’s big scene with Pitt is powerful, a result of both performers generously giving their all to a tricky, deeply emotional confrontation.

Ron Perlman (playing Flannigan’s coach) and Nicolette Robinson (as Flannigan’s angry ex) also have hard-hitting scenes that are so well written and performed, this feels less episodic than it actually is. Huston’s film is closer to Rod Serling’s “Requiem for a Heavyweight” than anything involving Apollo Creed or the Italian Stallion.

.@LinseyDavis speaks with actor Michael C. Pitt and director Jack Huston about “Day of the Fight,” an evocative film that follows a once celebrated boxer fighting for a second chance. pic.twitter.com/aUQpVWSWPS

— ABC News Live (@ABCNewsLive) December 12, 2024

There’s a great use of songs on the soundtrack. Get this, Pesci not only co-produced this, along with actress Colleen Camp and others, but also contributed to the soundtrack! Watch the end credits to hear a track with Pesci and Robinson.

Huston excels at keeping the setting neutral, with the New Jersey locations and black and white filming allowing this to stand in for anywhere and in any era. By not leaning into the specifics (no establishing shots of iconic architecture or dates are provided), the story has a timeless feel.

I remember Huston starring in “Hemingway’s In the Garden of Eden” (2008) and his lead in the ill-fated 3-D “Ben-Hur” (2016) remake. I’m happy to report that I’m impressed with his directorial debut. He brings out the best in his cast and applies a sense of style without drowning in it.

“Day of the Fight” may ultimately be a minor entry in the long history of boxing movies but it’s a keeper and worth seeking out. It’s also a comeback vehicle for Pitt and announces the arrival of Huston as a director, another reason why this longshot indie goes the distance.

Three stars

The post ‘Day of the Fight’ Punches Above Its Weight Class appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

Robert Zemeckis’ “The Polar Express” (2004) represents not only a turning point in the filmmaker’s career but a no-turning-back moment in visual effects.

Here was a film that showed us photo-realistic characters and vividly rendered CGI settings in a manner that was uncanny and chilling.

Despite the limitations of the 2004 technology, Zemeckis’ film seemed to be a portal into the future, a signpost of caution and wonder that led us to where we are today. The film showed both an over reliance on CGI special effects and, on occasion, a stunning ability to mimic reality.

The 1994 “Tales from the Crypt” episode Zemeckis directed, “You, Murderer,” showcased a CGI “performance” from Humphrey Bogart footage. The episode is now quaint, dated and just the beginning of how far Zemeckis and filmmakers of his ability were going to take pixels as human mimicry.

Hold onto your hats folks, and hand over your ticket for The Polar Express!

We open with a little boy, skeptical of all things Santa Claus and has many reasons to believe Santa isn’t real. The boy, who is never identified by name, wakes up one night to discover a locomotive and a long strand of train cars have arrived in front of his home, ready to take him and a handful of children to the North Pole.

A digitally rendered Tom Hanks plays the conductor (Hanks conveys a nice sense of weariness and heart to the role), while other roles are played by Eddie Deezen (eternally cast as an annoying, squawking-voiced nerd) and Nona Gaye as a girl who befriends the boy. The late Michael Jeter, in his final role, co-stars as the train’s bearded engineer.

Oh, and Aerosmith turns up.

Hanks is such a vivid actor that the CGI rendering makes good use of his creative choices for the role(s). Deezen’s character is exactly right – there’s a kid like this in every classroom.

Tom Hanks really carried ‘The Polar Express’ with his multiple roles pic.twitter.com/ptJNcgzHpV

— Fandom (@getFANDOM) December 26, 2023

Despite how uncanny and accomplished much of the animation still is today, Zemeckis’ revolutionary film was criticized for the technique’s limitations, namely the emptiness in the eyes of the characters. Sometimes the lack of light in the protagonist’s peepers isn’t a problem.

In other moments, the lack of humanity is downright eerie.

While the criticisms are merited, it’s important to remember the film was never attempting that to begin with. The animation, from the very start, was always meant to be a recreation of the illustration style in Chris Van Allsburg’s 1985 children’s book.

The visual fuzziness says more about the pictures as they appeared in the book than where CGI was in 2004 (and please, please, let there never be a live-action remake of this).

RELATED: WHY ARE SO MANY CHRISTMAS MOVIES SET IN CHICAGO?

The plot wisely does the “Wizard of Oz” thing of never telling us if the fantastic parts of the story really happened or not. The first act (of which there’s more of the boy at home than one would expect) is masterful visual storytelling.

Then the train stops to pick up a Dickensian boy, followed by a busy song and dance number about hot chocolate. It’s the first sign of Zemeckis overwhelming a simple story.

Whereas the plot of Gary K. Wolf’s 1981 novel “Who Censored Roger Rabbit?” was modified before it became “Who Framed Roger Rabbit?” (1988, still Zemeckis’ best film), you can sense Zemeckis felt insecure about the spare quality of Allburg’s book (as well as the commercial need to pad the running time) and his giving this movie the equivalent of busy work.

“The Polar Express” holds up better than Steven Spielberg’s equally busy “The Adventures of Tin Tin” (2011) and many other early 2000’s, non-Pixar attempts at all-CGI film narratives.

I was dazzled by “The Polar Express” the first time I saw it (the big screen and a good sound system make it a tour de force in theaters) and I revisit it most Decembers, but it still feels a bit off and overproduced. An easy example- it’s fine that there are sky-diving elves at Santa’s North Pole, but Zemeckis can’t leave it at that and, also, insists on bungee-jumping elves in the same scene!

Moreso than any other early-aughts blockbusters, “The Polar Express” demonstrated, in ways good and bad, where visual effects-driven storytelling would be headed in the coming years.

The sound effects are also exquisite and as elaborately produced as everything else here. Yet, whereas the special effects in “Forrest Gump” (1994) are instruments to enhance the storytelling, what we have here feels like the f/x came first and the story and characters later.

It shouldn’t be that way.

Zemeckis’ film is both a loving recreation of the book and a bloated expansion of it (again, the Aerosmith cameo). “The Polar Express” represents everything good and bad about the post-“Cast Away” (2000) period of Zemeckis’ film career (the one exclusion is the terrific “Flight”).

From the exhilarating, hit-and-miss “Beowulf” (2007) to the ill-considered attempt to turn Dickens’ classic novel into the action movie this is “Disney’s A Christmas Carol” (2009) and on to the recent career lows of “The Witches” (2020), “Pinocchio” (2022) and this year’s ambitious and awful “Here,” Zemeckis has failed to align his filmmaking abilities with CGI as a storytelling tool.

Using CGI in a flamboyant, demonstrative way wasn’t a problem in terrific Zemeckis films like “Death Becomes Her” (1992) or “Contact” (1997). When the best thing about “The Walk” (2015) isn’t the story, characters or period setting but the power of CGI to make audiences experience vertigo, you know something is off.

I wonder if Zemeckis needs to pare down the bells and whistles the next time out, in the way both “Flight” (2012) and “Allied” (2016) are character driven and propelled by performances, not spectacle.

Is a remake of “Romancing the Stone” (1984) on the docket?

I don’t think that Zemeckis’ best work is behind him, only that he inevitably peaked, fell in love with CGI tools over film technique (the two don’t necessarily go hand in hand) and, like M. Night Shyamalan, needs to fall in love with storytelling and characterizations again.  I suspect he’ll make a comeback.

Interestingly, if I’m going to compare Zemeckis with Shyamalan, it’s worth noting that the latter’s “The Village” came out the same year as this film; the two films are very different but, in terms of strengths and weaknesses in the director’s body of work, they are telling as mixed achievements that followed with years of unsteady creative output.

When “The Polar Express” kicks into action-movie mode (think of it as “Bullet Train” for a Fisher Price audience), it’s always thrilling. I love the winter journey of a ticket stub, as well as the sequences where the train slides all over an icy lake, and the train thundering past the Elves’ workshop.

When the movie becomes a musical, that’s when it really tests my patience: I always look forward to revisiting Josh Groban’s Oscar-nominated “Believe” as it plays over the end credits. Then the other songs play.

Look, hearing Hanks “rap” over the end credits of “Dragnet” (1987) is a guilty pleasure, but when the two-time Oscar winner screams “Clang! Clang Clang!” and “Never Let It Cool!” over the title song and that awful hot chocolate number, I fled the theater.

The post How ‘The Polar Express’ Changed Hollywood Forever appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

There’s a reason Sony released the first eight minutes of “Kraven the Hunter” before its theatrical bow.

It’s the best part of the supervillain origin tale. Faint praise alert!

Director J.C. Chandor’s film isn’t as snicker-worthy as Sony’s other 2024 dud, “Madame Web.” But it’s close.

A pumped-up Aaron Taylor-Johnson looks like the Marvel Comics villain, but he’s abandoned by a script that can charitably be described as dopey. Some action sequences pop on cue, suggesting what might have been in more capable hands.

When the mayhem wraps the film collapses.

It’s Kraven with a “K,” thank you.

So says Taylor-Johnson as Sergei, a hulking gent powered by a potion that turned him into the titular Hunter. The character’s origin story is cutesy and tired, but the same could be said of other MCU figures.

A radioactive spider? Gamma radiation? We’ll cut the film some slack.

The story follows Kraven as he hunts down those who poach wild animals or otherwise behave badly. He’s also got daddy issues, courtesy of his wicked papa (Russell Crowe, hamming it up). The Russian patriarch speaks in hunting cliches, but at least his performance won’t make you cringe.

The same isn’t true elsewhere. Why are these Spider-related movies so amateurish? Chandor’s film resume is impressive, from “Margin Call” to the slick survival tale “All Is Lost.”

Did the Men in Black zap his frontal lobe prior to the shoot?

 

 

 

 

 

 

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 “Kraven the Hunter” is neither forgettable like “Morbius” or jaw-droppingly bad a la “Madame Web.” Still, “Kraven” offers several laugh-out-loud moments, the kind destined to launch a thousand memes.

It doesn’t help that a signature villain eventually limps to the forefront. That’s Alessandro Nivola as The Rhino, whose backstory is so sparse it could fit on a postage stamp. He’s not your cookie-cutter baddie, but his physical tics are unintentionally hilarious.

Sense a theme here?

Another villain goes by The Foreigner, because, “I’m not from around here.” Give Christopher Abbott an honorary Oscar for saying that line with a straight face.

“Kraven the Hunter” is silly, then sober, a grab bag of tones that never gels into a reputable film. The heroic character is a classic MCU villain, but the attempt to make that transition is as disastrous as everything preceding it.

The action sequences offer a stark exception.

They pop off the screen, using mostly solid CGI to plug the visual gaps. The digital lions, tigers and bears aren’t as convincing.

Taylor-Johnson’s Hunter is a force of nature, effectively revealed during that opening sequence and elsewhere. Chandor knows what a superhero film needs in these moments, even though his resume hardly screams Comic-Con adjacent.

It’s the rest of “Kraven” that plays out in awkward fashion. Take Calypso (Ariana DeBose), whose ties to the younger Sergei offer the first of many guffaws. She helps Kraven track down one elusive enemy with a single phone call.

Better call Saul? Try Calypso!

Later, Kraven tracks down another character without breaking a sweat.

“I’m a hunter. That’s what I do.” If only more screenwriters could explain away key film moments that way.

You won’t find any mid-credit scenes at the end of “Kraven the Hunter.” The studio in question, Sony, pulled the plug on Spidey movies prior to the film’s release date.

They saw the finished cut and probably didn’t laugh once.

HiT or Miss: “Kraven the Hunter” marks another super misfire, squandering an interesting villain for a paint-by-numbers yarn beneath the once-great genre.

The post ‘Kraven the Hunter’ Brings the Laughter (But It’s Not a Comedy) appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

Werner Herzog’s “Nosferatu the Vampyre” (1979) is among the most faithful film adaptations of Bram Stoker’s “Dracula.” 

It’s also one of the strangest.

Herzog, Germany’s extraordinary chronicler of natural beauty, human obsession and unorthodox living, made a film that, while dutiful in the way it recreates the well-told vampire tale, is in line with his legendary “Fitzcarraldo” (1982) and others.

Bruno Ganz stars as Jonathan Harker, the real estate agent who has the misfortune of paying a visit to the home of Count Dracula (Herzog regular and legendary actor Klaus Kinski). Harker’s fiancée Lucy (Isabelle Adjani, my favorite living actress), immediately realizes there’s something wrong with Harker upon his return.

Renfield, Dracula’s prior victim (played amusingly over the top by “The Tenant” author Roland Topor, of all people) knows that Dracula, an ancient vampire, is beginning a new reign of terror.

The greatest distinction in Herzog’s approach is how he doesn’t go for a Gothic Romance and attempt to mimic the look of either the Universal films, nor the Hammer classics. Instead, Herzog has the action take place in real locations, making much of this feel like a travelogue and as real to life as possible.

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One would never think they were looking at either cheap cardboard sets nor extravagant recreations of dark towers, swarming with bats. Here, Castle Dracula resembles a badly rotted castle. Many scenes have fleets of rats running everywhere.

Herzog’s documentaries have always proved amazing for the seemingly impossible subjects they cover, while his fictional works are portraits of reckless human obsession. In addition to the Kinski-starring “Fitzcarraldo” (which may wind up being Herzog’s greatest work) or the gonzo Nicolas Cage starring “Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call: New Orleans” (2009), this moody, chicken skin inducing horror film gives us a Dracula who seems weary from the destruction he has brought on the living.

Kinski’s Count Dracula comes across as a sinister and corrupt man, rotting away from an incurable disease – there’s nothing sophisticated about him, though there is always calculation in his eyes. Kinski closely resembles Count Orlok from F.W. Murnau’s 1922 silent film, though the intensity in his performance is different.

There are no jump scares here, but Kinski is always scary, conveying the danger in his every appearance. Adjani is perfection as the object of Dracula’s desire, resembling a silent film actress and finding the emotional core of her role.

Herzog’s film is slow to start and concentrates more on mood and environment than rushing to each story point. Despite the unhurried pacing, its best passages, particularly those in which Kinski or Adjani are the focus, are hypnotic.

The film’s PG rating means barely a visible drop of blood spilled onscreen, but Herzog immediately unsettles us with an opening credit sequence taking place in a tomb with real mummified bodies. Some will be accustomed to the sight, as the “Body Wars” exhibit has traveled worldwide, but I remain queasy at the view of a real sarcophagus.

The story takes a different turn at the very end, allowing an alternate result from Stoker. What happens to Dr. Van Helsing and especially Harker is truly creepy.

Yet, though there are nightmarish visions here (some of which are reproductions of images from Murnau’s film), Herzog’s documentary-like approach to capturing the rich environment dominates.

Theatrical release poster for Werner Herzog’s ‘Nosferatu the Vampyre’ (1979). Art by David Palladini. pic.twitter.com/SE3aet1OlF

— Tatiana Fajardo (@Tatiana19796) August 27, 2024

Of the three Dracula films of its year, Herzog’s film is preferable to the jokey, cornball hackfest that is “Love at First Bite” but not up to John Badham’s “Dracula.” The latter’s title character is played by a suave, eerie Frank Langella and Sir Laurence Olivier co-stars as Van Helsing.

Both are downright definitive in their interpretations.

Badham’s film is as exciting as it is engrossing, an R-rated affair full of the gothic gruesomeness found in Stoker’s story.

Yet, as both a companion piece to Murnau’s masterpiece and a double feature with Robert Egger’s new “Nosferatu,” Herzog’s “Nosferatu The Vampyre” is due for rediscovery. Bela Lugosi, Christopher Lee, Gary Oldman and Langella may be the more iconic takes on the character, but the sight of Kinski, with his bald, rat-like face and unfeeling eyes, will settle the deepest in your nightmares.

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