Printing money comes too easily for Team Disney.

The studio keeps cranking out live-action versions of its beloved films, and each new production earns serious coin for the mega studio.

Will Smith’s “Aladdin” proved clunky, but those cinema turnstiles spun to the tune of $1 billion worldwide.

Each new version summons the same critique – the original films are great enough, thank you. Why bother updating them?

Now, it’s “The Little Mermaid’s” turn and the results are better than expected. It helps that star Halle Bailey proved a fine choice for the titular mermaid, and that the director in question previously snagged an Oscar for bringing a classic musical to the big screen.

Just know the film’s ambitions are too modest to eclipse the source material.

Bailey stars as Ariel, a headstrong mermaid who is endlessly curious about the human realm. Her stern father King Triton (Javier Bardem) warns his daughter that humans took her mother’s life and cannot be trusted.

Ariel can’t stop imagining what earth life is like, though, and when she saves the life of a kind-hearted human (Jonah Hauer-King as Prince Eric) it’s clear their paths will cross again.

And, along the way, the two might just fall in love if not for a deep-sea villain (Melissa McCarthy as the tentacled Ursula) sabotaging those plans.

The update features the lovable sidekicks from the 1989 animated film, from Sebastian the Crab (Daveed Diggs) to Flounder (Jacob Tremblay). Sebastian’s punch lines are more awww, cute than laugh-out-loud funny, a wasted opportunity.

Scuttle the seagull fares the best, thanks to Awkwafina’s singular line readings. Her bird’s musical number, though, is more punishing than required.

It’s Bailey’s show, ultimately, and the “Growin-ish” alum handles the sizable task as well as can be expected. Her vocal range is more than enough to make numbers like “Part of Your World” soar, and her screen presence cuts through the maze of CGI.

About the effects…

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The film demands some heavy lifting from all those ones and zeroes, but director Rob Marshall (“Chicago”) and his FX team rely too heavily on their magic. It leaves even rudimentary scenes looking as if the CGI artists didn’t know when to stop, shattering the live-action spell.

Artists should know when to put the brush down and walk away from a canvas.

RELATED: DISNEY LOSES ANIMATED CROWN TO UPSTART COMPETITOR

The story’s pacing could be tighter, no doubt, but there’s nothing wrong with McCarthy’s interpretation of the core baddie. The actress purrs and growls, underplaying Ursula’s menace so effectively that even the audience might buy into her trickery.

It’s a primer on how to do a villain right.

The film’s love story matters, of course, and here the film earns a solid, unspectacular B. 

Hauer-King’s Prince Eric may have more depth than in the animated film, but he’s still too bland, too Mary Sue-esque, to stretch that phrase’s meaning, to make the romance pop.

The film’s sweetest stretch involves Bardem’s fatherly instincts. He’s dour and protective like any undersea patriarch should be, but he learns that keeping his daughter on a short leash can only lead to trouble.

It’s delivered with a feathery touch, and rightly so.

Those fearing “The Little Mermaid” would be another Disney woke-a-thon will be glad to see the film mostly avoids that trap. Yes, Bailey’s colorblind casting raised eyebrows initially, but the star’s pipes and presence should silence that debate.

This live-action yarn isn’t perfect, but it doesn’t stop cold to lecture us or push the kind of strained, girl-power shtick that immediately wears thin.

The original story shines through, despite a few new unremarkable songs and other modest tweaks.

HiT or Miss: “The Little Mermaid” is another unnecessary live-action adaptation from the Mouse House, but the film’s sly casting and visual splendor make it well worth a look.

The post ‘Little Mermaid’ Avoids Disney’s Live-Action Malaise appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

Hollywood writers are on strike, partly, over fears A.I. might replace them.

Even an ’80s-era Commodore 64 could write dialogue better than what’s heard in “Fast X.”

Those moments, as wince-inducing as any of the saga’s car crashes, find the “Fast and Furious” franchise reeling under the weight of our expectations.

And then Jason Momoa, cast as the villain eager to wipe out Dom and his “family,” appears. Suddenly the saga feels as good as new.

If only he could stay on screen for the film’s entire, bloated run time.

We reunite with Dom (Vin Diesel) and his extended brood in a rare moment of bliss. He’s teaching his adorable son Brian (Leo Abelo Perry) how to drive like Daddy (buckle IN!) and fearing some unseen threat may interrupt their bond.

He’s right, natch.

Dante (Momoa) is out for more than just blood and vengeance. He’s part of the clan’s complicated past, and he’s set on destroying Dom and everything he holds dear.

He’s a Bond villain on steroids, and Momoa gives the role everything an actor can summon.

And more.

He’s giddy and gregarious, mincing but masculine, a one-man wrecking crew who has considered every angle before he strikes. He sports painted nails and pastel clothes, but he’s all business when it counts.

He’s ridiculous and over the top, which means he’s a perfect fit here. Plus, as tin-eared and exposition-heavy as the dialogue is elsewhere, Momoa gets all the film’s rich lines.

Some “Fast X” scenes feel ripped from generic VOD thrillers you stumble into and shut off a third of the way through. One exchange, between “Reacher” standout Alan Ritchson and franchise newbie Brie Larson playing Mr. Nobody’s daughter, is so poorly acted you’ll think it was the first take after a long, liquid lunch.

Can they retroactively take Larson’s Oscar back? Be better, Brie.

Yet the film’s relentless action, and big-budgeted stunt work, almost always draw you back in. And there’s a new bone-crunching scene lurking around every corner.

Some highlights?

• Any time Momoa opens his mouth
• A sublime slugfest between Michelle Rodriguez and Charlize Theron as the mysterious Cipher
• The ever-expanding cast, brings charisma to scenes that are deadly dull on the surface
• We even get a cameo from Helen Mirren, who must have been biting her tongue while reading her ghastly lines

Anyone new to the franchise will be utterly lost. Even casual fans may need to re-read the Wikipedia breakdowns of recent episodes to stay abreast of all the various characters and angles.

Some action sequences, like the numbing prologue, are just visual noise. Director Louis Leterrier (“The Transporter”) does better later, staging elaborate chases that mesmerize.

Sure, some of the chaos is CGI-generated, but it plays out realistically enough to trick our senses.

Once again, family is the driving (get it?) force behind the saga. We briefly see Rita Moreno as Abuela Toretto and Dom’s brother Jakob (John Cena) is forced into babysitting mode to protect Brian from Dante’s minions.

That subplot feels like it’s air-lifted from another, whimsical movie before you-know-what gets real.

John Cena’s red carpet interview at the Fast X premiere in Rome, Italy! #FastX pic.twitter.com/gZGZdJE2Lp

— JohnCenaCrews (@JohnCenaCrews) May 12, 2023

Faith even gets a close-up, a reminder of how the saga has stayed grounded despite how it mocks the rules of physics.

“Fast X” is an improvement over the previous installment thanks to Momoa’s presence and the lack of space exploration (if that’s a spoiler alert it’s a welcome one, no?). You’ll still roll your eyes, hard, and chuckle at moments that aren’t meant to be funny.

There’s at least one more “Fast” coming our way … or perhaps two if Diesel’s recent comments can be believed.

Even at its best, “Fast X” reminds us film franchises should know when to call it a day, or at the very least keep charismatic stars like Momoa on speed dial.

HiT or Miss: “Fast X” is big, loud, dumb and way too long. And, when Jason Momoa is chewing the scenery, it’s perfect summer escapism.

The post ‘Fast X’ Brings Out Best, Very Worst in Aging Franchise appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

“Carmen” takes its “ripped from the headlines” concept seriously.

The story, loosely tied to Prosper Mérimée’s novella of the same name, follows mismatched lovers as they run for their lives.

She’s an illegal immigrant fleeing the man who killed her mother. His brash act as a volunteer Border Patrol agent puts his future in doubt.

Together, they dance, sing and inexplicably leave us bored to tears.

Melissa Barrera of “Scream VI” fame plays Carmen, a Mexican woman heading across the U.S. border after the death of her beloved mother. Her journey is interrupted by Border Patrol agents and their vigilante-style recruits.

The most racist goon of the bunch threatens to kill Carmen before Aidan (Paul Mescal, “Aftersun”) risks everything to save her. He’s a former Marine suffering from PTSD, but his heart is in the right place.

The two take off, knowing their lives are in danger if they stay in one place for long. They’re not friends nor even allies, but they find a certain strength together until something unexpected blossoms.

Love, or at least that’s what the film’s overmatched screenwriters want us to believe. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The leads have less than zero chemistry, with apologies to Bret Easton Ellis, but their connection is meant to power the story. First-time director Benjamin Millepied rallies a crush of cinematic tools to make us believe it, but we’re never smitten with their courtship.

The pair could be caught at any moment, but there’s little tension to be found here, either.

They eventually meet up with the owner of a vibrant nightclub, the one person who can keep their secrets safe. That’s Masilda (Rossy De Palma), a wannabe scene stealer who knew Carmen’s mother years ago.

She welcomes them into her club while Carmen finds her artistic voice. That voice can be beautiful at times, but the lyrics add little depth or understanding to the broader story.

“Carmen” throbs with dance numbers, eating up valuable screen time better served by enriching the characters’ stories. The dancing is seductive at times, and Carmen’s big number is as ripe as an apple plucked from a swollen tree.

Millepied’s extensive dance background serves him well, and his ear for grandiose music (courtesy of Nicholas Britell succulent score) suggests an epic tale of love and danger. The story comes up short, and the Barrera/Mescal pairing is an instant dud. Even their brief lovemaking scene will leave viewers unimpressed.

The spare script has little interest in fleshing out the characters or their backstories. Aidan’s sister appears a time or two, but her screen time doesn’t add to the saga. Carmen’s mother stages surreal cameos, building on the film’s fitful use of magic realism.

It’s not as if the story lacks narrative depth. The leads come from very different backgrounds, but we see few culture clashes that might intensify the emotions in play.

A small relief? “Carmen” doesn’t bludgeon us with open borders messaging.

Much of “Carmen” is still a pleasure to behold, visually speaking. Millepied’s camera makes even modest moments pop, as if he were telling a magnificent story that demanded nothing less than visual perfection.

The only time his aesthetic soars alongside the material is during a bare-knuckled fight late in the movie. The sequence hums with danger, and the director combines the blows with a rhythmic stomping from the crowd.

Need more? The unofficial referee chanting in a vulgar, hypnotic fashion. It’s mesmerizing.

Yes, “Carmen” ultimately disappoints, but Millepied’s eye is so keen, so invigorating that his next film could see him honing his narrative chops.

If so, we’ll look back at “Carmen” as a cinematic work in progress, and a promising one at that.

HiT or Miss: “Carmen” might be the year’s most beautiful film, but that canvas can’t overcome the stale love story in play.

The post ‘Carmen’ Squanders Explosive U.S.-Mexico Border Clash appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

The most revealing question asked in “Still: A Michael J. Fox Movie” temporarily stumps its star.

Fox has been publicly fighting Parkinson’s disease since the late 1990s, but we’ve never seen him fully open up about the toll it took on him until now.

Why now?

The answer, both Fox’s response and what the movie reveals, proves a fascinating element of Davis Guggenheim’s documentary.

Actors act. They perform to make us laugh, smile and cry. What happens when one of Hollywood’s best can no longer provide that service? More importantly, how do you rebuild a life when that God-given gift goes away?

The casual, occasionally pointed banter between Fox and Guggenheim (“Waiting for ‘Superman'”) serves as “Still’s” core.

We revisit the actor’s early years, from living under a complicated father figure to getting the break that changed his life – playing Alex P. Keaton on “Family Ties.” “Still” showcases precious, behind-the-scenes footage at the dawn of his professional breakthrough and learn just how close he came from missing that moment.

Audiences quickly fell for the budding star, and he used the sitcom’s success to jump to the big screen.

The one-two punch of “Teen Wolf,” a sweet, disposable romp and “Back to the Future” (’nuff said) sent him into the career stratosphere.

And that’s where he lived until one day he realized his fingers wouldn’t behave as they were told. Twitch. twitch, they went, the first sign of a condition that would leave him struggling to walk across a room.

“Still” isn’t a pity party nor does it sugar coat life with Parkinson’s disease. Bumps, bruises, broken bones … it’s all part of refusing to stay still with the disease.

Fox’s family provides key support, from longtime spouse Tracy Pollan (they met shooting “Family Ties”) to the children who keep Fox grounded during the worst of times.

“Still” never cuts too deeply into any one topic. Yes, Fox partied as a young and fabulously wealthy star, but we don’t hear the darkest moments of that lifestyle.

Sure, his marriage endured heartache as his fame soared, but it’s unclear if the Fox/Pollan bond neared the breaking point.

This isn’t a tell-all, and you won’t hear any Hollywood dirt, either. It’s the story of a very famous man who endured despite a brutal diagnosis. Now, he has something precious to share, far more valuable than a perfectly-timed joke or blockbuster.

The Michael J. Fox’s Foundation for Parkinson’s Research is given just a few minutes of screen time. The focus is on a middle-aged man reconfiguring his life, his dreams and realizing the blessings that still remain.

Fox’s decision to go public with his diagnosis proved harrowing. What if the laughter stopped, and fans started pitying him instead? It’s just one of many memorable arcs “Still” traces, focusing more on the star’s humanity than career detours.

Guggenheim has a wealth of Fox footage from the actor’s films and TV appearances, and he weaves them together to visualize the star’s formative years. It’s a risky technique that pays off handsomely, in part, because the director grasps the bond Fox forged with audiences.

Fox’s condition means his acting days are likely over unless a cure can be found. “Still” reminds us why he became a star and how the power of reinvention proved a powerful way to cope with an incurable illness.

HiT or Miss: “Still: A Michael J. Fox Movie” isn’t easy to absorb, but the delicate storytelling and uplifting tone make it both memorable and important.

The post ‘Still’ Offers Haunting Look at Fame, Parkinson’s Disease appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

Joe Alves’ “Jaws 3-D” arrived a year after the shockingly successful “Friday the 13th Part 3 in 3-D,” which led a fleet of 3-D B-movies that kept the format alive for about a year before an extended hibernation.

A sign of both the film’s quality and its legacy pop up in the first few minutes – during the opening credits, an unseen shark bites the head off a fish, which floats awkwardly in the frame long enough that even the audience gawking over the 3-D likely finally shouted, “Enough already!”

What follows is hardly better, as we meet the various characters/shark chum who work at a busy sea life park during a heavy tourist season.

Dennis Quaid, Bess Armstrong, Lea Thompson and other appealing actors work at the park which experiences a sudden surge in shark attacks

Quaid is the film’s star, but his performance is busy but disinterested, giving his co-star and love interest Armstrong zero chemistry to play off. The biggest name here was Louis Gossett Jr., who is visibly trying to invest some bluster and gravity into his role as the mastermind behind the amusement park.

Had the film, later retitled “Jaws 3” for television and videocassette release, given Gossett Jr. a chance to play the equivalent of John Hammond, the film could have at least had a dramatic center. Considering that Gossett Jr. had previously won an Oscar for “An Officer and a Gentleman” (1982), his misuse here is especially disappointing.

An aspect of Alves film that is historically noteworthy for cinephiles is its place in the amusement-park-run-amok genre. The movie arrived a decade after “Westworld” (1973) and a decade before “Jurassic Park” (1993).

An especially odd touch here is that, unlike the prior films mentioned, “Jaws 3-D” doesn’t take place at a fictitious amusement park, but, no kidding, Sea World in Florida!  

Did the depiction of tourists and park employees being devoured by sharks help or hurt the image of the park? Did they at least sell “I Survived my Summer at Sea World! Jaws 3-D Now in Theaters” T-shirts? It’s difficult to imagine Disney ever promoting a film where their world-famous parks are portrayed as mismanaged and full of bloodshed.

RELATED: 11 INSANE SHARK MOVIES (NOT NAMED ‘SHARKNADO’)

Presumably because Richard Matheson is among the screenwriters, there is an ambitious idea that surfaces: a portion of this aquatic park is now underwater, with a tunnel and observation deck for tourists willing to go beneath the surface.

It’s a cool concept with a lite sci-fi angle, but nothing more comes of this beyond the initial reveal. Because there’s a killer shark on the loose, it’s a given that this attraction will get chomped into oblivion.

However, you’d think that the filmmakers were capable of more than showing us the obliviously phony, unmoving shark, slowly coming toward the camera, breaking through a massive wall of glass in slow motion. Like much of the visual effects here, it might have been somewhat compelling in 3-D but in 2-D, the effects are painfully phony, and the action scenes are functional but never exciting.

FAST FACT: Dennis Quaid struggled with addiction during the 1980s, later admitting he was “high in every frame” of “Jaws 3-D.”

The important connecting point between this and its predecessors isn’t the shark but the Brody boys. Quaid and John Putch are playing Mike and Sean Brody, the sons of Sheriff Brody (Roy Scheider, who wisely decided against appearing in this).

It’s a meager olive branch to the original, vastly superior films that came before it.

A spirited argument can be made that “Jaws the Revenge” (1987), the fourth and, to date, the final entry in the series, is the worst one. However, whereas “Jaws 3-D” offers an underwater theme park (feeling more like a set piece from an Irwin Allen flick than something that belongs here), “Jaws the Revenge” has a game performance from Michael Caine, ample use of John Williams’ beloved theme music (which is barely used in the third film) and lots of unintentional hilarity.

The fourth “Jaws” movie at least feels like it exists in the same universe as “Jaws” (1975) and “Jaws 2” (1978). Aside from the tossed-off reference to the Brody boys, there’s little here to attach it to the lived-in charm of “Jaws” or the first sequel’s depiction of teenage discovery falling victim to sharkus interruptus.

Nevertheless, despite awful reviews and the early problem of traditional cardboard 3-D glasses (watching a movie through blue and red filters for longer than a few minutes is no fun), “Jaws 3-D” made a whopping $45 million at the box office and was the top grossing 3-D movie for the latter stretch of the 20th century.

The effective marketing campaign touted “the third dimension is terror.” If only…

The post ‘Jaws 3-D’ Is Even Worse Without that Third Dimension appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

When will Hollywood learn an old saw that grows more accurate over time.

More is less.

Or, in the case of “Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3,” much less.

Storyteller James Gunn’s third, and final, adventure with the rag-tag group shows what happens when you pile plot upon plot, gag upon gag, and then throw every CGI pixel at the screen.

Exhaustion Cinema.

We reunite with our heroes as a new threat emerges. Will Pounce plays Adam Warlock, a bronze-skinned superhero targeting Rocket (Bradley Cooper) for his master, the High Evolutionary (Chukwudi Iwuji, who screams every line he utters).

The evil Evolutionary loves to tinker with living organisms, and his experimentations created Rocket years ago (along with a crush of other creatures both cuddly and bizarre). His goal? To create a perfect species.

That’s interesting, but it’s never given the depth that Thanos’ eco-mania received in previous MCU films.

Plus, the High Evolutionary wants Rocket back. Why? It doesn’t make a ton of sense, but that’s par for the “Vol. 3” course.

RELATED: WOKE IS JUST PART OF THE PROBLEM PLAGUING THE MCU

The Guardians rally to save the gravely injured Rocket, setting a colorful, but bleak series of set pieces in motion.

Along the way we get the usual buffoonery from Drax (Dave Bautista), Groot (Vin Diesel), Nebula (Karen Gillan) and Mantis (Pom Klementieff). They’re all great, and even greater together. Their comic rhythms are perfectly in sync, and writer/director Gunn knows how to deploy their silliest bits.

“Vol. 3” is often very funny, except when it’s flashing back to genetic manipulations and even darker themes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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We’re meant to ooh and ahh at Rocket’s old, adorable friends, including an otter named Lylla (Linda Cardellini) and Floor the rabbit (Mikaela Hoover), seen in copious flashbacks.

It’s all CGI, of course, but the story’s many tentacles means we don’t buy into their fates.

There’s more, too, including a talking dog (voiced by “Borat Subsequent Moviefilm’s” Maria Bakalova), Sylvester Stallone as the head of the Ravagers and a tortured hero (Sean Gunn) whose superpower involves making an arrow-like weapon soar through the air.

Yawn.

The last “Avengers” films miraculously jugged dozens of characters, giving each wonderful moments to shine. Gunn and co. have a much harder time with a similar task.

Gunn is plucking our heartstrings repeatedly over the 2.5 hour running time, and it’s as exhausting as everything else on screen. Remember when superhero films were fun? Can we miss these characters at a later date?

Gamora is back, too, but this time it’s her character from another timeline since Thanos killed her in a previous “Avengers” romp. This version, again played by Zoe Saldana, has little time or patience for Peter Quill/Star-Lord (Chris Pratt), a subplot with untapped potential.

Neither Pouter nor “Vol. 2” returnee Elizabeth Debicki register with their limited screen time, and we don’t get a satisfying action sequence until late in the film.

The novelty of Viesel’s Groot-isms has worn out, and keeping Cooper’s Rocket sidelined for much of the film is another unforced error. The Oscar-nominee’s wisecrackery is part of the GOTG fun.

Even the musical cues, so integral to the original film, feel tapped out here. Oh, I recognize that song … cool, I guess.

“Vol. 3” has the volume on full blast, but it’s not enough to make the 5th phase MCU entry worth our adulation.

HiT or Miss: “Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3” is big, noisy, occasionally hilarious but too often exhausting.

The post ‘Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3’ – A Noisy, Unnecessary Swan Song appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.

Ari Aster’s “Beau is Afraid” demonstrates for three hours that, while Joaquin Phoenix’s title character is extremely fearful (among many other things), Aster himself is afraid of nothing.

Rather than up the ante and present a third horror film that outdoes his prior works in scare value, Aster has used a generous budget to shape a very dark comedy about a character who suffers dearly for nearly the entire running time.

I haven’t seen a movie character endure this kind of scene-by-scene mental and physical anguish since Larry Gopnik in the Coen brother’s “A Serious Man” (2009).

This is exactly the kind of movie you get to make after tidal waves of acclaim and an eagerly attentive cult audience await your next move. Teaming up with the unpredictable and often extraordinary Joaquin Phoenix, Aster has defied all expectations set by his instant-classic “Hereditary” (2018) and the far-better “Midsommar” (2019).

The brutal precedent established by those films (with their multiple decapitations and a bear-suited death by fire among the haunting images) still won’t fully prepare the hardened genre fan for this.

Phoenix’s Beau Wassermann is middle-aged and living alone in an extremely dangerous neighborhood of an unnamed city. Just walking outside his crummy apartment is literally a life-or-death decision.

Beau’s decision to take a flight to visit his mother (Patti LuPone) winds up being the first in a series of decisions that elevate the already nightmarish quality of his week.

Beau has major mommy issues and so does the film, in a way that will seem overbearing to some. Keep an eye on that goofy family portrait in the background of a major scene for a peek into Aster’s headspace: “Beau is Afraid” is rich with existential dread and mother/son guilt, but much of it is played for laughs, emerging as a work that is as surprisingly hilarious as it is frequently shocking.

The first act, by far my favorite, reminded me a great deal of Roman Polanski’s “The Tenant” (1976), with its funny and horrific view of living in a city hellscape. Another movie Aster’s latest especially reminded me of is the recently rediscovered George A. Romero stunner, “The Amusement Park” (1975), which is also about a vulnerable older man being victim to an aggressive, angry world around him.

Other portions are kind of like “mother!” (2017), “Synecdoche, New York” (2008) and, in my least favorite segment, “Defending Your Life” (1991).

When Aster uses theater and some beautiful special effects to portray a story-within-the-story about the paths all of us (including Beau) take, the film reaches a level of visual poetry. Likewise, the amazing opening, which I won’t describe, and every scene in which we encounter LuPone’s character- finally, the commanding Broadway veteran has an unforgettable film role to tear into.

In a small role, Parker Posey is remarkable as a key figure in Beau’s life. Phoenix generously applies his talent to a character who undergoes Wile E. Coyote-level pummeling, but I always found Beau sympathetic. The make-up effects are as accomplished as the special effects, which don’t overwhelm the film but brilliantly elevate Aster’s already fragmented reality.

FAST FACT: Oscar-winner Martin Scorsese has dubbed Ari Aster as “one of the most extraordinary new voices in cinema.”

Some of “Beau is Afraid” is overextended, making what should feel like getting under my skin emerge as genuine irritation. The Nathan Lane/Amy Ryan segment, as amusing as it often is, should have gone somewhere more concrete instead of spinning its wheel into Thomas Berger territory, without having anything new to say about feeling like a captive to overly attentive neighbors.

Aster could have ended his film at least five times before he arrives at his final sequence, which is my least favorite bit. Whether the ending was always going to be the one we get here or if it’s just the best one Aster picked, it’s frustrating and unsatisfying, particularly after the high points the prior scenes reach.

The experience of watching this isn’t unlike watching Alex Garland’s “Men” (2022), which was also impeccably made, uncomfortably personal and confrontational in a way that will inspire walkouts from audiences accustomed to formula.

Considering this is only his third movie, perhaps this is the Ari Aster equivalent of “Magnolia” (P.T. Anderson’s splendid and stuffed third film from 1999), the kind of engrossing patience tester that is best appreciated over time and not from an initial knee jerk reaction.

Aster’s films thus far have portrayed a fractured family unit and the agony of attempting to reconfigure the rituals of normalcy and domesticity. He’s also a cruel storyteller, more than willing to punish his audience almost as severely as his characters.

I’m glad to have seen this on the big screen, as I loved much of it, though it’s worth noting that the audience I saw it with didn’t share my enthusiasm: no one in the crowded theater I saw this with was laughing, and someone behind me yelled out, “This movie is f—ed up!” only an hour into the running time.

Truth be told, he wasn’t incorrect, just early making that assertion.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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“Beau is Afraid” is more Freudian and challenging than most will be comfortable with. I suspect this will be a movie lots of people will hate, as Aster still doesn’t seem to care if audiences will walk out on any of his films with a smile on their face.

The movie left me feeling drained, though its funniest scenes (of which there are many) still have me laughing. I will be revisiting this again soon and suspect, even with some expected resistance, that Aster has another cult favorite on his hands.

Three Stars (out of four)

The post ‘Beau Is Afraid’ Is Big, Bloated and Brimming with Wonder appeared first on Hollywood in Toto.