Gifted

GIFTED (Marc Webb, 2017)

Frank Adler (Chris Evans) is trying to do the best for his seven-year-old niece Mary (Mckenna Grace) in GIFTED, but he faces a major challenge in deciding how to raise this precocious first grader. Frank saw how his brilliant sister Diane--Mary’s mother--was not granted the chance by their mother Evelyn (Lindsay Duncan) to have a typical life. As Mary is under his care, he feels a responsibility to his sister and exceptionally bright niece to provide her with a normal upbringing around regular kids.

Family friend and neighbor Roberta (Octavia Spencer) warns Frank not to enroll Mary in the nearby public school, fearing that doing so will draw attention to them. Sure enough, Mary quickly dazzles her teacher Bonnie (Jenny Slate) with her math proficiency and gets in trouble for being mouthy and assertive. The principal recognizes that Mary will not be challenged at their school and offers to set her up with a scholarship to a private academy, which Frank rejects. His actions lead to his mother learning where they are and what is happening. Spotting the opportunity for Mary to complete the rigorous work that Diane didn’t, Evelyn sues Frank for custody.

GIFTED weighs whether it is more neglectful for an uncommonly talented child to be brought up with the rewards and pressures of being a presumed genius or to be unchallenged intellectually but allowed to grow up with what passes for normalcy. Are Evelyn’s ambitious intentions worse than Frank’s desire to trade academic opportunities for an ordinary life, or is limiting a child’s potential worse because of a philosophical difference of opinions? The problem is that director Marc Webb and screenwriter Tom Flynn have set up a false choice. Mary doesn’t have to subjected to crunching numbers and reading books every waking hour, nor must she be relegated to classes that don’t test and expand her abilities so she can be a Girl Scout and have friends.

The filmmakers know this, of course, yet have chosen a binary view of the circumstances for dramatic convenience. A better film would have struggled over finding the proper balance rather than casting the situation in either/or terms. GIFTED puts a heavy finger on the scales to favor Frank by having him face off with a woman so singularly obsessed with having her daughter’s work be completed that she will consign her granddaughter to the same restrictive formative experience without a second thought. For Evelyn this custody battle is about professional achievement through reflected glory and nothing else, so audience sympathies will naturally be directed to Frank instead.

It may be more satisfying to have a clear villain to root against in GIFTED, but Frank’s complex feelings and motivations are sufficient for taking a deeper look at the difficulties of raising a preternaturally smart child. Evans does nice work expressing the uncertainty and exhaustion that come with the territory. Roberta’s forewarnings suggest that he might even have wanted things to come to this because he’s tired of hiding in plain sight with Mary and isn’t sure he can bear the burdens that are only going to increase. GIFTED works best when it focuses on how Frank and Mary relate and how they have been getting by to this point. The fundamental aspects of their lives are demanding enough that they don’t need to be tugged upon by writerly conventions to make them more substantial.

Grade: C+

Hidden Figures

HIDDEN FIGURES (Theodore Melfi, 2016)

The space race with the Soviet Union is at fever pitch in HIDDEN FIGURES, a historical drama that helps give due to some African-American women key to the United States effort in John Glenn’s launch into orbit. The three featured in the film work at NASA in a segregated pool where they are known as computers, meaning they confirm the math in the calculations. When the need arises for someone skilled in analytic geometry, Katherine Gobel (Taraji P. Henson) gets called up to a branch where she’s doing critical checks for manned rocket launches. Although she knows her stuff, Katherine still runs up against racism and underestimations of her abilities.

Back at the computer pool, Dorothy Vaughan (Octavia Spencer) is struggling to get recognition for being the supervisor in everything but title and compensation. She also foresees the installation of new IBM hardware as the imminent obsolescence of everyone in her unit, so Dorothy sets to learning how to program the computers that will likely replace her. Mary Jackson (Janelle Monáe) is encouraged to become an engineer but cannot take the necessary classes because they are taught at a whites-only school. She pursues legal means to allow for her professional advancement.

HIDDEN FIGURES gives the conventional treatment to the stories of three exceptional women whose contributions to the space program aren’t widely known. Like following the steps to solve an equation, director and co-writer Theodore Melfi executes a methodical approach. The technique in achieving the result can’t be blamed for getting the job done effectively. HIDDEN FIGURES is a heartwarming crowd-pleaser operating within the standards of prestige cinema, but a little more creative risk-taking would have been appreciated among the familiar rhythms and character arcs.

Henson, Spencer, and Monáe anchor the film with intelligence and appeal. Henson projects strength and resourcefulness as Katherine strives to do her best for the team. Even when she goes against the grain, it’s rooted in the mission, not her own acclaim. Spencer conveys a sharp, ingenious mind attuned to the surroundings. She’s not a fighter per se, but she perceives how to win the battles in a less combative manner. In small roles in HIDDEN FIGURES and MOONLIGHT, Monáe hints at a cinematic personality that can leap off the screen if given bigger parts. She doesn’t ooze attitude for its own sake but as a weapon and armor.

While there is a broad quality to how HIDDEN FIGURES depicts the open racism of the time, Melfi does well in allowing audiences to recognize what was considered acceptable without engaging in excessive scolding from today’s perspective. It’s more powerful to watch Katherine break down to her supervisor about the overt indignities and microaggressions she faces on a daily basis that the white men and women she works with don’t notice. Dorothy’s white counterpart played by Kirsten Dunst addresses her by first name while Dorothy responds with her co-worker’s title and surname. Melfi doesn’t draw attention to this distinction, yet it’s clear what the difference in how they refer to one another means in regard to power and respect.

Grade: B

Get On Up

GET ON UP (Tate Taylor, 2014)

Like many other biopics GET ON UP assembles the highlights from its subject’s life, but in a twist, this film about James Brown (Chadwick Boseman) shuffles the chronology of key events. Screenwriters Jez and John-Henry Butterworth keep the story from settling into a predictable rise-and-fall rut, but their structure also resists picking up any dramatic momentum. It’s like a greatest hits CD that’s not sequenced according to when the songs were released or any logical order. It permits making connections across decades that might not have seemed apparent otherwise, but the groove struggles to be sustained from track to track.

GET ON UP tracks the life of the influential singer from his childhood in Augusta, Georgia. First his mother (Viola Davis) abandons him, and then his father (Lennie James) takes off, leaving him at the whorehouse Aunt Honey (Octavia Spencer) operates. While in prison at age 17 for stealing a suit out of a car, he meets Bobby Byrd (Nelsan Ellis), who’s performing for the inmates with his gospel group. Bobby’s parents help James get out by giving him an address to call home.

James joins Bobby’s group and gradually takes over as the star attraction of what comes to be known as The Famous Flames. They play on the chitlin’ circuit and attract the interest of a record company in Cincinnati. In their end they really just want James. He tries to keep the rest of the band as salaried employees, but the news doesn’t sit well with them, although Bobby continues to work with James during his lengthy career.

Early in GET ON UP Brown is wielding a shotgun and putting the fear of God in a group meeting at his strip mall in 1988. One of them used his private restroom, and he’s not happy about it one bit. When a woman fesses up to being the guilty party, he tells her, “You did right by yourself. There ain’t no other way to live.” It’s the defining statement in a film that shows Brown always looking out for number one, often to the detriment of the people around him. He fines band members for infractions and does not take kindly to being challenged. He pushes back against the concert promotion system so that he can keep more of the gate. James Brown’s early years did not feature anyone who put him first, which explains why he came to prioritize his interests to a fault as a guiding principle, yet the tragedy of his success by these means also led him to a lonely place even if surrounded by people.

The plentiful musical performance scenes keep the proceedings lively. Boseman brings swagger, charisma, and toughness in a magnetic piece of acting as the soul singer. Playing a well-known individual, especially one with a larger than life personality, runs the risk of mimicry, but Boseman brings the human dimension to the legend, thus avoiding merely imitating his moves and voice like a sketch comedian.

Revisiting such a broad portion of Brown’s life makes it impossible to cover everything. The unseemlier parts of his history and legal tangles are given short shrift, most notably. GET ON UP does a fine job of reminding how influential Brown has been on popular music, but in trying to understand the man it comes across like a radio edit: safe for mass consumption.

Grade: C+