Baby Driver

BABY DRIVER (Edgar Wright, 2017)

With the name Baby (Ansel Elgort), his lanky appearance, and omnipresent earbuds from one of his many loaded iPods, the protagonist of BABY DRIVER seems more like an aspiring indie rock star than the preferred wheelman for an Atlanta kingpin. He obsessively listens to music to tune out tinnitus from a childhood car accident that claimed his mother and father, but it also helps him focus when he’s driving fast and executing dangerous maneuvers. When he was younger Baby stole a car from the wrong man, so for years he’s been using his prodigious skills as a driver during heists to repay what he owes to Doc (Kevin Spacey).

After he makes things square for his past mistake, Doc isn’t inclined to let his best getaway man walk away and leave him hanging even though Baby wants out. It’s abundantly clear, though, that the wellbeing of Debora (Lily James), a diner waitress he’s started seeing, and his deaf surrogate father Joseph (CJ Jones) will be leveraged to pull Baby back for at least one more job. Ordinarily Doc doesn’t employ the same criminals twice, but he recalls bloodthirsty Bats (Jamie Foxx) and druggie lovebirds Buddy (Jon Hamm) and Darling (Eiza González) for a scheme to steal blank money orders from a post office. Baby really has no choice but to participate, although he hopes to be able to slip away with his dreamgirl before he’s pressed into action.

Writer-director Edgar Wright conceives BABY DRIVER as an action film set to a feature-length playlist. Strictly speaking, it’s not a musical, yet the wall-to-wall soundtrack and syncing of movement and sound with the rock and soul tracks give it the feel of one. The opening credits sequence with Baby grooving down the street to Bob & Earl’s “Harlem Shuffle” as he goes to pick up coffee for the crew is more reminiscent of LA LA LAND than a Michael Mann crime picture. Throughout the matching of music and action prompts a synergistic reaction for such a bracing and joyful demonstration of filmmaking craft.

The delightful choreography extends beyond the actors’ motions and gestures. The car chases are planned, shot, and edited to deliver the thrills of fast machines being handled in incredible ways. Contemporary action cinema’s editing styles tends to favor sensation over legibility. CGI has reduced the reliance on practical effects, some for greater capability and some surely for safety’s sake. Both approaches have led to forgetting or devaluing the simple pleasures of a good car chase. Wright starts BABY DRIVER with a doozy that includes a clever reshuffling of similar cars to throw the authorities off the trail of the fleeing criminals. He doesn’t top this car chase, but the others in the film are plenty exciting as they’re stoked by pulse-pounding songs.

The screenplay, the first credited solely to him since his low-budget debut A FISTFUL OF FINGERS, is loaded with witty dialogue versed in pop culture. An argument over the purchase of the wrong Halloween mask exemplifies the cleverness and speed in Wright’s writing. Spacey is particularly suited for the rat-a-tat-tat rhythm of the verbal humor and gets probably the biggest laugh when expressing his weariness of Baby quoting one film. BABY DRIVER doesn’t have the depth of THE WORLD’S END, Wright’s best film, but like all of his movies it bubbles with a sense of fun. The energy and assuredness in his direction signals to strap in and enjoy the ride.

Grade: A-

The Fault in Our Stars

THE FAULT IN OUR STARS (Josh Boone, 2014)

A billion or so years from now the sun will expand into a red giant and wipe out any existence of this planet, so what does anything matter in the long run? Feeling like everything is ultimately futile isn’t just the province of teenagers, but a place of existential despair can seem like home to those going through life’s most dramatic changes. If that teenager has terminal cancer, being obsessed with future doom is a natural impulse, although probably not the most mentally healthy preoccupation.

In THE FAULT IN OUR STARS 17-year-old Hazel Grace Lancaster (Shailene Woodley) is one of those unfortunate kids searching for hope in the face of hopelessness. She was diagnosed with thyroid cancer when she was thirteen and nearly died. An experimental trial worked for her, but the cancer spread to her lungs. She seems to get by fine day to day, but having stage 4 cancer, there’s no doubt how her story will end.

Her mother Frannie (Laura Dern) thinks Hazel is depressed and encourages her to attend a support group at the local Episcopal church in Indianapolis. There she meets 18-year-old Augustus Water (Ansel Elgort), who lost his right leg just above the knee but seems uncommonly enthusiastic about life. Although Hazel is a little put off by Gus’s aggressive flirting, she finds him intriguing. He wins points with her by agreeing to read her favorite book, a heavy piece of literature about a girl with cancer that isn’t something he would ordinarily bother with. The novel and its reclusive author become things for them to bond over and form a friendship that might lead to romance if Hazel will allow it.

Based on John Green’s popular young adult novel, THE FAULT IN OUR STARS hinges on the performances and tone. Woodley, who has impressed in THE DESCENDANTS and THE SPECTACULAR NOW, does well playing a character who wants to minimize others’ pain often at the expense of bringing her more emotional hurt. She invests Hazel with an independent streak that keeps her from suffering without a fight or giving in to the first cute boy who pays her attention, yet she’s not so tough that she’s closed off. Woodley’s big scene comes with a speech that she delivers at a pre-funeral, yet her best moment may come when she’s again shoving down her feelings and putting on a brave face for others toward the film’s end. Elgort plays Gus with unlimited confidence and eagerness, which can come off as borderline creepy, but his openness makes it understandable why Hazel might find relief with him from her dark thoughts.

Although THE FAULT IN OUR STARS prettifies characters in their health states, it is notable for the frankness with which the teenagers talk about their diseases. Screenwriters Scott Neustadter and Michael H. Weber and director Josh Boone leave the specter of death looming while coaxing Hazel and Gus to enjoy the time they will have together, no matter how short it might be. THE FAULT IN OUR STARS provides space for anger and joy to be justified and relished and does so without getting sentimental in a cheaply manipulative way. Boone pulls off a feat in managing to make a first kiss in the Anne Frank House not seem gross, although he undercuts the accomplishment with a weird choice to have the bystanders applaud. As in his first film STUCK IN LOVE Boone relies too much on using an indie soundtrack to emphasize the narrative’s mood. The film hits some uneven sections when it seems to be wandering afield in the Netherlands but finds its stride with a really strong final forty minutes.

Gus desires to be remembered while Hazel wants what exists around her to persist when she’s gone. Both are far too young to carry such weighty concerns, but the journey, viewed from Hazel’s perspective, touches with how she chooses to face it head on. Obsessing over death and preempting relationships to prevent others from feeling the pain of losing her are ways of coping but ones that Hazel discovers help nobody. True, one day this world will no longer be here, but what is important is the connections that make things matter until then.

Grade: B

Divergent

DIVERGENT (Neil Burger, 2014)

After the war the survivors in Chicago construct a wall around their metropolis and maintain civilization by dividing the population according to five virtues.  This society’s groups are the intellectual (Erudite), the peaceful (Amity), the honest (Candor), the brave (Dauntless), and the selfless (Abnegation), plus a factionless caste that subsists largely on the mercy of Abnegation.  Each faction lives in its own part of the city and is assigned tasks that play to the class’s personality strengths.  For instance, Abnegation runs the government, Amity farms the land, and Dauntless protects the city.  

In DIVERGENT teenagers are tested to determine which faction suits them best, but ultimately they can choose to defect to one different from what they were born into and how they were assessed.  Beatrice Prior (Shailene Woodley) has been raised in Abnegation but hasn’t always felt as though she fit in there.  Still, selecting another faction means being separated from her parents (Tony Goldwyn and Ashley Judd) and brother Caleb (Ansel Elgort).  Beatrice’s test reveals that she is a good fit in Abnegation, Dauntless, and Erudite.  Her tester Tori (Maggie Q) stresses that she keep this result secret and stay with the faction she knows.  Being predisposed to multiple factions marks Beatrice as Divergent and thus viewed as a danger to those in power.

Despite the risks Beatrice decides to join Dauntless.  For Tris, which she now goes by, life in Dauntless proves to be daunting.  Eric (Jai Courtney), one of the Dauntless leaders, informs the new transfers that those who do not rate highly enough at the end of the initiation process will be banished to join the factionless.  Her instructor Four (Theo James) may perceive that there’s something unusual about the initiate under his command.

Based on the first novel in Veronica Roth’s best-selling series, DIVERGENT comes off as an indistinct combination of other young-adult literature adaptations.  With the isolated districts, dystopian America, and gifted but self-doubting heroine, it most closely resembles THE HUNGER GAMES, although these particular aspects are generic enough to cover a whole swath of fiction than resemble any one source specifically. The overly familiar nature of the material strains patience in going through a programmatic set of level completion and ground-laying for future installments.  Much of DIVERGENT focuses on Tris enduring the three stages of initiation, which would be all well and good if more characters jumped to the foreground.  Like others adapting a property with a passionate, established fanbase, it feels as though director Neil Burger and screenwriters Evan Daugherty and Vanessa Taylor had to treat the popular book as sacred text and thus depict everything.  Slash a half-hour out of this, and anything significant would likely not be missed.

DIVERGENT introduces some potentially worthwhile questions about the limitations society places on people, but this is not a film with much on its mind beyond hitting the repetitive plot points.  Basic information about how this particular world came to be accepted by all and what exists beyond the walls is withheld, presumably to be answered in the next film and more.  This delaying tactic is surely profitable for movie studios, but in narrative terms it keeps everything in a holding pattern that tests the viewer’s good will.  

Woodley is not wholly convincing as an action star, but she does well with the emotional nuances of Tris.  The camera often holds tight close-ups of her as, like in THE SPECTACULAR NOW, she conveys a regular girl’s struggles to make sense of new experiences and difficult choices.  It’s a role of discovery that Woodley approaches with gentleness and fearlessness.  She’s better than the film around her.  Maybe the sequel will realize that.

Grade: C

Carrie

CARRIE (Kimberly Peirce, 2013)

Remaking a film recognized as a genre classic is a tall order for any filmmaker. Although director Kimberly Peirce doesn’t take the shot-for-shot approach for her adaptation of CARRIE, her version is remarkably loyal to Brian De Palma’s 1976 film. Consider it a kind of cinematic karaoke, in which the basic track and lyrics are provided but room for individual interpretation remains.  De Palma got first crack at the Stephen King novel and made his CARRIE in the key of Alfred Hitchcock.  Peirce bases her cover on De Palma’s composition.  While the similarities are hard to deny, the variations construct a conversation between the works a la Liz Phair’s EXILE IN GUYVILLE responding to The Rolling Stones’ EXILE ON MAIN STREET. 

A new opening scene with Margaret White (Julianne Moore) giving birth to Carrie and choosing to spare her life marks one of the biggest differences.  The child’s origin is referenced later in the original CARRIE but not depicted within it.  This key departure makes plain the theme regarding fear and confusion about female sexuality.  It also suggests the possibility of the story being viewed from the mother’s perspective, although ultimately that is an avenue not taken.  Moore’s Margaret doesn’t get significantly more screen time than Piper Laurie did in the role, but the character’s arc is more empathetic in Moore’s portrayal even as it’s clear that this is a woman whose beliefs have caused her great anguish. 

The plot foundation is virtually the same between the two films.  Loathed by her high school classmates, Carrie (Chloë Grace Moretz) becomes a larger object of derision when she reveals her ignorance regarding the changes to her body during adolescence. Rather than comforting her daughter after the traumatic episode in the locker room, Margaret doubles down on a message of religiously rooted guilt and bolts Carrie into a closet to contemplate her inherent sin.  Carrie rejects her mother’s warped philosophy as a source of strength.   She prefers to hone the telekinetic power within her.

Most of the other girls despise Carrie even more now that they are being reprimanded for viciously teasing her and threatened with suspension, including from the prom, if they don’t follow gym teacher Ms. Desjardin’s (Judy Greer) punishment regimen.  Sue Snell (Gabriella Wilde) regrets her behavior toward Carrie and decides to give up her time at the dance because of it.  She persuades her boyfriend Tommy Ross (Ansel Elgort) to take Carrie instead. Chris Hargensen (Portia Doubleday) refuses to do penance for her treatment of Carrie and, along with boyfriend Billy Nolan (Alex Russell), plots to give the shy girl a prom no one will ever forget. 

CARRIE’s examination of teenage cruelty gets updated with a humiliating smartphone video that circulates among the student body, but for all of the potential to illustrate how technology can make an ostracized kid more vulnerable to peer abuse, Peirce’s film doesn’t convey the violation and torment associated with being perceived school-wide as a laughingstock.  Aside from the shower scene, which clashes with the rest of the character’s conception, Moretz’s Carrie seems wise and in control from the get-go. She’s not a meek girl discovering her development but a mostly self-assured young woman who learns to channel her strength, which is a major departure compared to Sissy Spacek’s performance in De Palma’s film.  While Peirce and Moretz are welcome to this put this spin on Carrie, it undermines the protagonist’s trajectory. 

Peirce and screenwriter Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa are indebted to Lawrence D. Cohen’s screenplay but make justifiable minor tweaks.  The film benefits from giving Sue a slightly larger role.  Clarifying her motivation and having Tommy defend Carrie in an English class rather than the reverse adds poignancy to the inevitable tragedy.  Ms. Desjardin gets a fairer shake this time around than her analogue did.  Unfortunately the indistinct extreme Christian fundamentalism remains as much of a caricature in the new CARRIE as it was previously.  Taken on its own terms Peirce’s CARRIE holds its own as a coming-of-age drama even as some of the changes weaken the payoffs.

Grade: C+