Medicine for Melancholy

MEDICINE FOR MELANCHOLY (Barry Jenkins, 2008)

Two strangers wake up after a drunken one-night stand at a mutual friend’s party and awkwardly interact in the harsh light of morning in MEDICINE FOR MELANCHOLY. Micah (Wyatt Cenac) and Jo’ (Tracey Weggins) get coffee and share a cab ride, but he seems much more interested in building upon what happened the night before than she does. If it weren’t for her forgetting her wallet in the taxi, they’d likely never see each other again.

Micah tracks her down with a little difficulty. Jo’ doesn’t seem too keen to invite him into her spacious San Francisco apartment because, as she grudgingly reveals, she’s living there with her boyfriend, a curator who is currently in London. Nevertheless, Micah possesses a certain charm he deploys to persuade her to spend the day exploring the city with him. Although Jo’ sends him mixed signals, he’s happy to have the time together.

Writer-director Barry Jenkins’ first feature film finds him testing out themes and soaking up the atmosphere in ways he refined eight years later with MOONLIGHT. MEDICINE FOR MELANCHOLY unspools as the inverse of BEFORE SUNRISE. The pair’s brief, shared time, roughly twenty-four hours, begins intimately and then works toward lively conversations about their views on all manner of topics. The film is also clearly indebted to Wong Kar-wai’s IN THE MOOD FOR LOVE and Claire Denis’ FRIDAY NIGHT, from which Jenkins borrows a song for the soundtrack. MEDICINE FOR MELANCHOLY wallows in the romantic tension fueled by desire and loneliness fighting with personal circumstances that make such a relationship illicit.

Jo’ already being with someone hangs over her day with Micah, as does the fact that she’s dating a white man. Cenac plays Micah as a funny, down-to-earth guy, but his character doesn’t hide his resentments. He bristles at his position as a black man in a gentrifying San Francisco that would outprice him and those like him from the city and the shoebox of a studio apartment he rents. Meanwhile, Jo’ doesn’t have to worry about paying for the big place where she lives. Micah doesn’t accuse her of betraying her race, but the privilege he perceives her benefiting from is implicit in the frustration he expresses, particularly when he has a few drinks in him.

MEDICINE FOR MELANCHOLY succeeds more at getting into Micah’s head than Jo’s. Jenkins lets the characters’ actions speak for themselves. While Micah’s motives are straightforward, the psychology behind Jo’s decisions are obscured more. She’s wary of revealing much about herself to Micah and displays an awareness that she shouldn’t be doing what she’s doing. Still, she submits to this encounter and takes an active role in ensuring that hanging out isn’t innocent socializing. Jenkins doesn’t need to explain all of Jo’s choices, but he could have done better at balancing our understanding of the two protagonists.

Cinematographer James Laxton’s work on MEDICINE FOR MELANCHOLY stands in sharp contrast to the visual style of his lighting for MOONLIGHT. Where the latter boasted sumptuous colors, MEDICINE FOR MELANCHOLY is often bleached so that it almost appears to be in black and white. Like cautionary and prohibitory signals, faded yellows and reds peek out most prominently from the delicate, silvery images. In part Jenkins’ film is about how you interpret your surroundings. Although MEDICINE FOR MELANCHOLY exhibits potential checked by limitations of a young filmmaker, the visual cues Jenkins employs suggest he understands how to have images and words serve one another to achieve something greater than either on their own.

Grade: B-

The Glass Castle

THE GLASS CASTLE (Destin Daniel Cretton, 2017)

The Walls family doesn’t have much in THE GLASS CASTLE, but as far as father Rex (Woody Harrelson) and mother Rose Mary (Naomi Watts) are concerned, that’s all part of the adventure in their nomadic way of life. Rex is an alcoholic who can’t hold a job for long and is often rushing his family out of town to avoid the police or those seeking overdue payment. Rose Mary spends her days painting and enabling Rex’s destructive behavior. The family moves constantly, relocating all over the western U.S. before the reluctant return to Rex’s hometown of Welch, West Virginia. The shabby home where they place roots is no glass castle, the long-promised and aspirational home Rex talks of building, but at least it provides some stability.

THE GLASS CASTLE is based on the memoir by Jeannette Walls, Rex and Rose Mary’s second oldest child, and the film is told from her perspective. Played at different ages by Chandler Head, Ella Anderson, and Brie Larson, Jeannette admires and tries to help her father while regularly being disappointed by him. She eventually saves enough money to flee West Virginia, get a college degree, and become a professional success as a writer in New York City, yet her parents are the shadow she can’t shake. She lies about her family in social situations, and it’s not hard to see why. When Rex and Rose Mary move to the Big Apple, she does not avoid them, but she is ashamed that they are squatters who sift through the trash to survive.

Co-writer and director Destin Daniel Cretton studied those coping with trauma in his previous film, SHORT TERM 12. THE GLASS CASTLE also explores the cycle of abuse, although this time he focuses on the dysfunction within a single family. To the average person, the squalor and extreme poverty the Walls family lives in is horrifying, yet Cretton emphasizes how normal these conditions seem to those who don’t know anything different and have just accepted it. Rex and Rose Mary romanticize their dire situation, a strategy which comes off like self-protection and a manifestation of mental illness. They don’t beat their children, but the neglect and psychological damage they inflict is no less harmful. It is sad but altogether unsurprising to discover that the unhealthy dynamic Rex and Rose Mary raise their kids in looks better when compared to the upbringing he had.

Although viewers will surely leave the film unlikely to feel charitable toward the parents, THE GLASS CASTLE isn’t interested in judging Rex and Rose Mary. In it and SHORT TERM 12 Cretton seeks for the victim to move on from steeping in deserved resentment, as hard as that may be. Jeannette loves her mom and dad and despairs at the wreckage they’ve made of their lives and and its effect on her. Seen through her eyes, the film demonstrates enormous amounts of empathy and forgiveness while not discounting all the complicated and conflicted feelings churning inside the Walls children. THE GLASS CASTLE wrestles with how to integrate the positive qualities and memories with all of the pain those same people brought on.

When Jeannette is a child, Rex tells her about the point that’s hard to distinguish where a flame ends but heat is visible in a clear, wavering form. He explains that this place is between turbulence and order, where rules don’t apply. Rex and Rose Mary choose to occupy this space but fail to recognize that this zone distorts what is seen in it. They are not beholden to anyone, but their situation is stifling more than it is freeing. THE GLASS CASTLE carries you through a range of emotions with this family. Harrelson in particular is adept at showing how an important family member can attract and repel loved ones to the point of confusion. THE GLASS CASTLE permits the knotty family relationships to stand as complex, unresolved interactions, which is why showing the real people in the end credits seems like a mistake. Perhaps Jeannette and her siblings have worked through all their grievances, but the way the subjects of the dramatized story are presented, it comes across like an apology of sorts or a hastily applied but ineffective bandage. The film embraced the contradictions and opposing feelings, so it feels like being undermined somewhat with the conventional happy ending suggested when the real Walls family appears.

Grade: B

Logan Lucky

LOGAN LUCKY (Steven Soderbergh, 2017)

LOGAN LUCKY is an oxymoron of a title that describes a West Virginia family for whom things seem to go south every time it looks like they’ve caught a break. Jimmy Logan (Channing Tatum) was on the path to a professional football career until an injury ended that possibility. Clyde Logan (Adam Driver) served in Iraq without incident, only to lose his left hand and part of the forearm in an explosion as he was on his way out of the country at the end of his tour. Their sister Mellie (Riley Keough) doesn’t put as much stock in the so-called curse, but Clyde more than makes up for her skepticism as he recounts family history that provides evidence for its reality.

When Jimmy loses a construction job at the Charlotte Motor Speedway through no fault of his own, he decides to apply the knowledge he gained there to improve his lot by illegal means. Jimmy concocts a scheme to steal the money the racetrack brings in from concession sales and convinces his brother and sister to assist. They know an explosives expert with the perfect skillset, except the right man for the job, the appropriately named Joe Bang (Daniel Craig), is in prison. Jimmy has an elaborate plan in mind for breaking him out and getting him back behind bars without notice, but he needs to add Joe’s dimwit brothers Fish (Jack Quaid) and Sam (Brian Gleeson) to the crew to get Joe on board. As thoroughly as Jimmy has prepared, everything becomes riskier when they need to execute the heist earlier than intended.

Director Steven Soderbergh ends his short-lived retirement from filmmaking with a hillbilly variation on his OCEAN’S trilogy. Rebecca Blunt, a first-time screenwriter suspected of being a Soderbergh or his wife’s pseudonym, accounts for all of the questions that might arise in LOGAN LUCKY’s unlikely and intricately plotted robbery. The wide frame and Soderbergh’s open compositions provide room to appreciate how big of an undertaking the heist is and the teamwork necessary to pull it off. The implementation of Jimmy’s plan delivers pleasure because of its finely tooled nature. Sure, this brazen theft is improbable, but the degree to which it has been thought out highlights the structural beauty.

While LOGAN LUCKY hits all the right spots as a heist movie, it’s equally adept as a comedy. The relaxed scenes unwind with amusement at the situations that develop in unexpected ways. A staged prison riot results in a funny negotiation between the convicts and the exasperated warden played by Dwight Yoakam. Joe Bang’s tricks of the trade provoke skepticism until he explains the chemistry and gets the desired result. Mellie’s verbal undermining of the husband of Jimmy’s ex-wife highlights the difference between knowledge and position as the beautician is better acquainted with cars than the auto dealer. The film delights in tweaking expectations.

It seems like accusations of mockery surface any time a film comedically portrays people from the heartland, but LOGAN LUCKY manifests a great deal of warmth for its characters. They may do ridiculous things or have silly ideas, but the film laughs at the frailties in the human condition, not because it’s gawking at self-proclaimed rednecks. The opening scene with Jimmy and his daughter conveys the great affection between the two as he works on his truck and she hands him the requested tools. This relationship informs everything that transpires in the film and is indicative of the generosity the main characters show one another. The emotional peak is reached at a children’s beauty pageant with the singing of John Denver’s “Take Me Home, Country Roads,” a scene that could have been mawkish but instead is quite affecting in getting to the heart of what motivates proud, put-upon people like Jimmy and his family. The hijinks and humor conceal the economic subtext, a familiar subject in Soderbergh’s films, but LOGAN LUCKY makes sure to remind that these ornery people are trying to exploit an opportunity just like those who profit off of them.

Grade: A-

Creep

CREEP (Patrick Brice, 2014)

In CREEP Aaron (Patrick Brice) accepts a videography job in the mountains not knowing much about what he’ll be recording other than it will pay well for one day’s work. Initially the remoteness of the location unnerves him somewhat, especially because his client Josef (Mark Duplass) startles him by banging on the window of Aaron’s car by way of an introduction. Aaron’s imagination also wanders a bit when spotting an axe in front of the house but dismisses it once he starts doing what he’s been hired to do.

That’s not to say everything is normal. Josef tells him that he wants Aaron to record him all day because he has a brain tumor, likely has just a couple months left, and wishes to document who he is for the unborn son his wife is carrying. For the first thing they record Josef disrobes and pretends to give his baby a bath. The interpersonal tension at the beginning doesn’t entirely go away, but by the time they finish it seems to have been a worthwhile experience for Aaron. He can’t find his keys when he’s ready to leave, though. The longer he’s in Josef’s home, the more concerned he becomes for his safety.

CREEP is shot with the first-person perspective, which has the effect of making the viewer present in the goings-on, if not exactly an active participant. The distance between the audience and the characters is shortened so that it feels like being in the room with them even if as an unacknowledged observer. The form charges the interactions so that they are direct and intense and not mediated through the camera. The fewer number of cuts emphasize being put on the spot in awkward situations. The uneasiness cannot be relieved because you are trapped in the moment as the recording rolls.

Duplass, who co-wrote the story with Brice, excels at straddling the line of being friendly and unsettling with his overly familiar manner. Josef is a little weird, particularly where he lacks boundaries, but it’s hard to discern if such quirks are harmless breaches of social etiquette or indicative of a deeper pathology. Duplass molds Josef into the kind of person who could be fun to be around in one instance and put you on guard in another. He doesn’t necessarily come across as sinister, yet Duplass doesn’t hide the calculation in how Josef tests Aaron’s limits under the guise of honesty. Duplass’ performance highlights how someone can give you the creeps even though there may not be tangible evidence of anything dangerous about him.

CREEP reveals itself to be about how propriety can be used against the person who strains to be polite. Because Aaron is genuinely a nice guy, he gives Josef the benefit of the doubt. He also gives him leeway because it’s how we’re taught to be from a young age. Even if Josef comes across as kind of strange, many people feel the reflex not to act overly judgmental when face to face with such a person. Doing so would be rude and only serve to amplify the awkwardness. CREEP considers how that civility could be a fatal flaw when the other party refuses to abide by the contract. On the surface not much in CREEP is objectively scary, but the context of what is said and done often makes it terrifying.

Grade: B

A Ghost Story

A GHOST STORY (David Lowery, 2017)

In the brief time the couple credited as C (Casey Affleck) and M (Rooney Mara) in A GHOST STORY are together, we see how close they can be and the disagreement they have over whether or not to stay in their current home. He feels attached to the place where they share their lives; to her the house holds no special importance.

The difference of opinions about the space continues when they are parted. C is killed in an automobile accident. When he becomes conscious of being on a new plane of existence, he declines to move on. Instead, donning the white sheet that covered him in the morgue, C is drawn back to the house, where he watches M but is invisible to her. What he recalls about his time before being a ghost is unclear, but something keeps him there. M grieves but in time moves on from him and the house. C remains even as the occupants change, rooted to a location where he feels an unexplained loss and unresolved anger.

C can make things go bump in the night and lash out in the ways other stories have conditioned us to think of ghosts, but writer-director David Lowery has other interests than eliciting jumps from an apparition that goes, “Boo!” For one, A GHOST STORY portrays the experience of grief for the deceased. The metaphysics at play are vague, but C appears to have a choice to advance to a different level or stay on this earthly one. The decision to remain haunts him and others like him. These ghosts are like dogs left at home without any way of knowing when or if their owners will return. They are waiting for that happy moment when they are reunited with someone, except they experience time much differently and have little to no memory of why they feel holes at their cores. The ghost’s grief is not specific but a general emptiness with no obvious way of filling it.

Lowery also studies the grief for a place. Time transforms everywhere, so even if a spot has little turnover in residents or a lot through the years, the space is not what it once was. Just as the physical qualities change, the relationship with the location adapts. Mental associations are as much a part of the structure as the beams. C’s link in life and afterlife to the house are all of the emotional ties and memories that it contains, yet what he struggles to realize is that those don’t vanish even with the absence of the four walls around him. In contrast to the film’s minimal dialogue, Lowery spells this out effectively, although somewhat heavy-handedly, with a monologue delivered by a prognosticator played by Will Oldham.

A GHOST STORY unfolds in the style of European and Asian slow cinema so it can better convey the different experience of time and put our years into perspective regarding the universe’s age. Little tends to happen, but when C flits through time in a less comprehensive version of THE TREE OF LIFE’s birth of the universe section, Lowery powerfully evokes the impermanence of what we tend to assume as eternal.

Rather than generating restlessness, the stillness and relative silence in A GHOST STORY create room for meditation and appreciating the visual detail. C’s ghost sheet is gorgeously wrinkled with impenetrably dark eyeholes, more like a haute couture version of a death shroud than a homemade costume from the Charlie Brown Halloween special. The score by Daniel Hart and key song “I Get Overwhelmed” by his band Dark Rooms express the wistfulness in time’s redefining of things throughout life. A GHOST STORY aches for what no longer is but reminds that truly the most valuable things transcend.

Grade: A-

Atomic Blonde

ATOMIC BLONDE (David Leitch, 2017)

Set in 1989 prior to the fall of the Berlin Wall, ATOMIC BLONDE takes MI6 agent Lorraine Broughton (Charlize Theron) to the divided German city in search of Satchel, a spy who is double crossing the West to work with the Soviet Union. His latest collaboration with a KGB officer resulted in a British agent’s death and the theft of a sensitive list that names all of the spies secretly working in the USSR. Lorraine is tasked with killing Satchel, retrieving the list, and helping with the defection of Spyglass (Eddie Marsan), a Stasi officer who initially stole the list to give to the West and who has it memorized.

Lorraine’s cover is blown as soon as she lands in Berlin. Although she’s more than capable of taking care of herself, she gains information and assistance from David Percival (James McAvoy), a fellow MI6 agent who has been working undercover there for a long time. Meanwhile, French agent Delphine Lasalle (Sofia Boutella) is keeping close tabs on Lorraine.

ATOMIC BLONDE shares a lot of similarities with JOHN WICK, which comes as no surprise as director David Leitch was an uncredited co-director for the Keanu Reeves revenge film. Both feature staggeringly talented and stylishly dressed killers cutting swaths through underworlds in dark cities edged with neon. Lorraine works for the government while John is an assassin for hire, but otherwise they’re characters cut from the same cloth. Leitch exerts great effort to make the action and fight scenes legible. The violence is choreographed and edited to appreciate the viciousness of it, but the action isn’t just a demonstration of sheer power. Equal importance is placed on admiring the elegance in how the hero moves and how she looks in her fashionable clothes.

The action centerpiece comes late in ATOMIC BLONDE with a long sequence constructed to seem as though it is one unbroken take. Lorraine engages in hand-to-hand combat with some bad guys and then hops into a car for a perilous drive through the city. Even if one can tell where shots are stitched together, this stunning section cranks up the excitement so that there is more investment in marveling at what’s happening than how they pulled it off.

As in MAD MAX: FURY ROAD, Theron proves herself to be a dynamic action star. Her long lines lend aesthetic grace to the action, and her physicality drives home the force. Leitch employs dark, brooding, modern rock hits to complement the emotional coolness that Theron channels from French film noir. Lorraine is not a great character, but ATOMIC BLONDE hands Theron a role that capitalizes on that je ne sais quoi that differentiates movie stars from other actors.

ATOMIC BLONDE’s plot is needlessly complicated, especially as the espionage intrigue delivers little in the way of surprises. Leitch devotes more energy to developing the atmosphere. While ATOMIC BLONDE coasts on touring through the chic and dingy corners of a city that will soon be upended, soaking up the grimy pleasures of this setting with a natty heroine as a guide satisfies.

Grade: B-

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-

Spider-Man: Homecoming

SPIDER-MAN: HOMECOMING (Jon Watts, 2017)

Although Peter Parker (Tom Holland) tries to balance life as a high school student and a superhero in SPIDER-MAN: HOMECOMING, naturally he’s drawn more to fighting crime and being a beloved part of the community. To his frustration, Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) cautions him about getting too involved in such extracurricular activities, although he does provide him with an improved suit. After a night patrolling the neighborhood, Peter’s best friend Ned (Jacob Batalon) learns that he is Spider-Man, a fact that delights him to no end.

Peter stumbles upon the shady dealings of Adrian Toomes (Michael Keaton), a former salvager now using and dealing alien technology to enrich himself and his associates. While Tony doesn’t want Peter to pursue the matter, he can’t help but investigate, which puts him and and his classmates at risk.

SPIDER-MAN: HOMECOMING brings more of the traditional comic book sensibility back to the superhero universe. Director Jon Watts, one of six credited screenwriters, constructs the film like a teen movie with some regular people possessing extraordinary powers than something rooted in the realm of fantasy. Doing so grounds SPIDER-MAN: HOMECOMING and gives it a touch of wonder at the incredible feats the heroes and villains perform. Watts also suffuses this SPIDER-MAN with a breezier tone that gooses the humor, particularly in the scenes with Peter’s high school peers, and makes the protagonist and his struggles more down to earth.

Holland exudes a lot of charm in his first time playing the ordinary teenager turned webslinger. He imparts Peter with infectious enthusiasm, which he tempers with the insecurity and desire to push limits that are a hallmark of adolescence. He is confident scrambling up the Washington Monument but less sure of himself when it comes to asking his academic decathlon teammate Liz (Laura Harrier) to the dance. Holland lends a dancer’s grace to the physicality with which he plays Peter and Spider-Man, which reinforces the joy that buzzes through the film.

SPIDER-MAN: HOMECOMING surrounds Peter with a splendid supporting cast. Batalon is funny and endearing as the pal who is excited for Peter and at the prospect that he might be able to be his assistant, the proverbial guy in the room in action movies. As wisecracking classmate Michelle, Zendaya often gets some of the biggest laughs from the withering way she expresses herself. Harrier adds depth to the potentially thankless love interest role as she evokes the complexities in the romance Liz and Peter hesitantly begin.

Keaton fleshes out the antagonist so that his perspective is understandable even if it isn’t justifiable. Adrian’s bruised sense of fairness and need to provide for his family guides him down a darker path that gradually eases him down the moral slippery slope. Keaton lets the character cook in his righteous outrage, like a frog not realizing it’s being boiled as the temperature in the pot slowly increases. For Adrian the outcome is similar as his corruption he gives in to slowly grows.

It doesn’t seem like there are a zillion different things happening in SPIDER-MAN: HOMECOMING or that it absolutely has to fit within a larger framework of the Marvel films. The less convoluted story allows the film to feel fleeter and dig into the character elements. After a string of unsatisfactory SPIDER-MAN movies, it’s a pleasure to encounter one notable for its zippy sense of fun, humor, and thrills.

Grade: B+

War for the Planet of the Apes

WAR FOR THE PLANET OF THE APES (Matt Reeves, 2017)

At one point as a kid I wondered what it would be like in movies or after-school cartoons if the bad guys won for a change. After all, no matter how things appeared to be going in these shows and films, everything predictably worked out in the end. I suspect that this fleeting thought from my childhood was common among those of the same age who were becoming bored with the formula. Now that my generation has a lot of sway in what gets made, it seems that we’re getting the chance to discover what it feels like when the course reverses and good doesn’t triumph or its victories in mass entertainment are pyrrhic. Think of all the remakes and franchise reboots in the last decade or so whose differentiating quality is that they are now dark, gritty, or edgy. The new normal is an overwhelming sense of gloom and doom, in part because it is considered more artistically serious. While any framework will yield worthwhile and lousy results, this worldview in event films has become exhausting.

WAR FOR THE PLANET OF THE APES picks up two years into the combat between humans and the apes. Having toppled Koba in the previous film, Caesar (Andy Serkis) leads his kind, making him the top priority for The Colonel (Woody Harrelson) to find and eliminate. Caesar wishes for the fighting to stop, so when the apes capture some of the enemy, he sends them back as a gesture meant to broker a detente. Instead the intel of where Caesar is invites a slaughter of many he’s been trying to protect.

Caesar sends most of the survivors toward a new home while he intends to exact revenge on the Colonel. Rocket (Terry Notary), Winter (Aleks Paunovic), and Spear (Alessandro Juliani) refuse to let him go alone. On their search they take pity on and add to their group a mute girl given the name Nova (Amiah Miller). They also come across former zoo animal Bad Ape (Steve Zahn), who knows where the Colonel and his men are stationed and agrees to show them.

Beginning with 2011’s RISE OF THE PLANET OF THE APES, the rebooted series has always had dark clouds looming over it because the original films provide the roadmap for where the new ones will arrive. They’ve become progressively darker and now reach the exceedingly grim WAR FOR THE PLANET OF THE APES. What gets depicted is restrained enough to stay within the confines of a box office-maximizing PG-13 rating, but what happens is pretty horrific regardless of which side comes out on top. Tragedy builds upon tragedy to the point that by the time this aggressively feel-bad film concludes I left the theater hoping the sun hadn’t been extinguished in the interim. WONDER WOMAN features its share of darkness, but at the core it prizes earnestness, decency, and love over fear, nihilism and hatred. It’s unfair to WAR OF THE PLANET OF THE APES, but I’m seeking more of what WONDER WOMAN is promoting at this point in time.

Perhaps I was just in the wrong mood when I saw WAR FOR THE PLANET OF THE APES. It’s a marvelous technical achievement that the number and variety of simians are so convincing that it’s taken for granted that they are real. Although Zahn’s Bad Ape probably belongs in a more lighthearted film, the provides comic relief and a much-needed glimmer of fun. Director and co-writer Matt Reeves lingers on the breathtaking scope of the landscapes being traversed and occupied. The action scenes are brutally effective. The film’s allegory about humanity’s penchant for mutually assured destruction hits hard in the context of the daily news. But WAR OF THE PLANET OF THE APES is such an oppressive film to watch. Plus, there’s the sneaking suspicion that its purpose is just to advance the series to where we knew it was eventually headed.

Grade: C+

The Discovery

THE DISCOVERY (Charlie McDowell, 2017)

Thomas Harbor (Robert Redford) finds overwhelming proof that the afterlife exists in THE DISCOVERY, although what that other plane of existence is like remains unknown. Two years after he announces the discovery, four million people have committed suicide, often with the expectation of getting a fresh start. Thomas’s son Will (Jason Segel) remains more skeptical regarding what his father’s findings mean and detests the widespread social response to them. He protests that the evidence is not definitive, nor does it promise a better life. Upon hearing that his father has built a new machine, Will returns to their island home, now a fortress-like building where Thomas, his other son Toby (Jesse Plemons), and a group of people whose suicide attempts failed continue the secretive work to learn what exists beyond the veil.

On the ferry there Will encounters Isla (Rooney Mara), the only other passenger making the trip to the island in the off-season. Both dodge explaining why they are going to such a place and part ways without expecting to see one another again for reasons that become clear soon enough. Will does not want his father to reflect on him, and Isla is hiding her intention to kill herself. Later Will spots Isla’s attempt to drown in the ocean and saves her. He also smooths the way for her to receive a spot among the selected in his father’s home. It’s a momentous time there as Thomas now believes he can record what is seen in the afterlife. When the experiment appears to fail, only Will knows that a recording is made, although what he sees is difficult to translate.

Director and co-writer Charlie McDowell imparted a TWILIGHT ZONE-like quality to his debut feature THE ONE I LOVE, and he does it again with THE DISCOVERY. Both films take place in worlds very much like ours except in one specific aspect that recontextualizes everything we know. The consequences of the discovery mostly take place off-screen and emerge in anecdotes, but the impact hangs heavy over the proceedings. Thomas is as driven as ever because he bears the weight of all the people who interpreted his pioneering finding in a way he likely didn’t anticipate or desire. The film eludes questions about the religious implications, yet Thomas has constructed something like a cult around him. Whether intentional or not, THE DISCOVERY recalls THE MASTER in shots of the ocean and Thomas’s private, personal interview method for determining who can stay. (Both also have small roles for Plemons.)

THE DISCOVERY is most compelling as it dives deeper into the search for answers. McDowell wisely does not get into the speculative science involved, leaving it to suspension of disbelief to accept the film on its own terms rather than getting bogged down debating the viability. He explains what developments mean more often than allowing the viewer to do the math, which takes some of the fun out of THE DISCOVERY, but he draws out the hunger to comprehend what new information signifies. Humans want to bring order to the unknown, so it is imperative that the film satisfies that craving. McDowell’s most prominent stumble occurs at a climax that seems like it should be revelatory yet, more than anything preceding it, confused me in the Christopher Nolan-like layers upon layers. The romantic element between Will and Isla comes off as more forced than credible even as it becomes more integral.

Although the material is treated seriously, THE DISCOVERY carves out room for some humor. As the more dutiful son, Plemons displays a cavalier attitude about the research and arrangements that highlight what those deeply embedded in something weird accept as normal. Mara lends a sarcastic edge to Isla, particularly when she identifies the strangeness of her and Will selecting and returning a corpse.

Whether one believes in eternal spiritual existence after death or not, THE DISCOVERY asks a provocative question: does the inability to know with complete certainty what comes next invest more meaning in life? The film’s answers could be more rigorously considered but are thoughtful nonetheless.

Grade: B

Okja

OKJA (Bong Joon Ho, 2017)

Under the leadership of CEO Lucy Mirando (Tilda Swinton), the Mirando Corporation has a grand design to disrupt worldwide meat production in OKJA; however, the discovery and breeding of a so-called superpig that leaves less of a carbon footprint while tasting good is not intended for a rapid product launch. Instead Lucy distributes twenty-six superpigs to farmers around the globe for a competition to name the best one in ten years.

Mija (An Seo Hyun) and her grandfather Heebong (Byun Heebong) are raising their superpig named Okja in the mountains of South Korea. Okja is essentially a floppy-eared hippo with a dog’s personality, so to Mija she is more like a beloved pet than livestock. Although Mija assumes her grandfather has purchased Okja from the company, she despairs upon learning that the Mirando Corporation has taken the superpig to its local headquarters before sending her to the surely dire fate that awaits in New York City.

Determined to get her best friend back, Mija embarks for Seoul, where her attempt to retrieve Okja crosses with a rescue mission led by Jay (Paul Dano) of the Animal Liberation Front. They want to expose Mirando’s practices and need Okja to gain access to their facilities. The public relations fallout surrounding the ALF’s heist and return of Okja lead the corporation to bring Mija to New York for a reunion of the girl and her superpig.

OKJA is akin to a hybrid of David Lowery’s 2016 remake of PETE’S DRAGON and FAST FOOD NATION, mixing the action-adventure of children’s fantasy with political satire. Such a genre medley makes for a striking, albeit inconsistent, fable. Rather than scratching out a screed against multinational conglomerates, writer-director Bong Joon Ho seeks to provide balance to a complicated issue, even if where the film’s sympathies reside are never in doubt. The activists practice laughable extremes to prove their commitment to ideals and struggle to pass their own purity tests. Although the corporation is undeniably driven by a profit motive, Lucy is well-meaning in bringing this product to the market. The inherent deception in her marketing plan is necessary because consumers tend to prefer not to know how their food gets to them.

OKJA doesn’t shy away from depicting the realities of factory farming and processing, but Bong isn’t arguing in favor of vegetarianism or veganism. The film’s aim seems to be less specific. Rather, it seeks to raise consciousness of the system and how consumer choices and attitudes are interconnected with corporate decisions. Bong is addressing big, complex questions about international demand and the supply chain. The points he makes can get muddled, which is the challenge of infusing so much thematic ambition into a simple story.

There’s a lot to like about OKJA even as Bong tries to do more than he can effectively manage. Jake Gyllenhaal’s Johnny Wilcox, a Jack Hanna-like TV host who is the face of the superpig competition, isn’t established sufficiently for the dark turns the character takes to have dramatic impact. Gyllenhaal’s broad performance comes off as a miscalculated attempt to match Swinton’s quirkiness. Bong mostly succeeds at shifting tones from sweet to satiric and humorous to horrifying, but easing into the film’s end, including a post-credits scene, indicates that he wasn’t certain how to wrap OKJA beyond one obvious matter.

Lest OKJA sound like an economics lesson, the adventure Mija finds herself caught up in might be better thought of as a globalism-questioning WILLY WONKA & THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY, although be advised this is decidedly not a film for little kids. Early scenes of Mija and Okja cavorting in the countryside have the charm of the children playing with E.T. An impresses with the determination and intelligence she conveys in Mija even as others try to exploit her for their interests. Bong shows off his flair for staging action with Mija’s thrilling chase after Okja through downtown Seoul. Although OKJA is ambivalent at best about whether changing the world is scalable, it rejoices in the fights and victories achieved on a micro level. That may not be altogether heartening, but the small wins are what fuel the pursuit of larger ones.

Grade: B

47 Meters Down

47 METERS DOWN (Johannes Roberts, 2017)

While vacationing in Mexico in 47 METERS DOWN, sisters Lisa (Mandy Moore) and Kate (Claire Holt) decide to do something a bit more daring. Lisa is feeling down after breaking up with her boyfriend, who thought she could be boring. Kate suggests they be more adventurous, in part to prove him wrong. They go out and meet some guys who tell them about a captain who can have them cage dive with sharks for a bargain.

Lisa is hesitant but grudgingly agrees, although she starts to balk when seeing the weathered boat. Captain Taylor (Matthew Modine) and the guys assure them that everything will be fine. There’s still reason to be cautious, though, as the guys on the boat chum the water, which is illegal where they are. Lisa lies about knowing how to use the diving equipment, but as there’s a wink-wink, nudge-nudge quality to this whole arrangement, they get into the cage and go below to see the sharks up close. Lisa and Kate are exhilarated until the rusty winch snaps and drops them 47 meters down to the ocean floor.

47 METERS DOWN is marred by dialogue that is as bad as any that might be part of a commercial film financed with a respectable budget and featuring experienced professionals. The lines delivered above water aren’t well-written, but the clunky chatter doesn’t stand out as being especially bad, just purely functional. Maybe it’s the isolation that makes what gets uttered while the characters are in the ocean sound so stiff. As most of the film takes place underwater with masks somewhat obscuring the two main actresses’ faces, they must say one another’s names an uncommon number of times to distinguish who is talking. The low caliber of their dialogue is indicative of Moore and Holt being in a looping session in which they are instructed to watch the footage and say the first thing that comes to mind.

Despite the leaden quality of the verbal exchanges, 47 METERS DOWN is quite effective as a B-grade suspense film. The limited view in the murky water sustains the tension of knowing a threat is out there and can strike quickly. It’s even more unnerving when Lisa swims far enough away for possible help and then loses her bearings when trying to return to the relative safety of the cage. The sound of the distressed women’s rapid and labored breathing doesn’t trigger a sympathetic reaction but transmits the extreme anxiety. The most mundane actions are coded as unrelentingly tense either because of the danger lurking around them or the diminishing capacity of their air tanks.

47 METERS DOWN likely benefits from being seen in a theater because having the big screen overwhelm you makes the experience feel more direct, as if you are also in peril with the women in the water. The screenplay by director Johannes Roberts and Ernest Riera isn’t packed with surprises but bad choices. Feeling more actively involved as an audience member makes it easier to forgive the rash and foolish decisions Lisa and Kate tend to opt for. The pressure-filled situation would naturally lead to reacting rather than contemplation, even if more of the latter is advisable at first. The script could telegraph less of what’s to come--chances are that any seemingly inconsequential piece of information will enter into play--but for all of its faults, 47 METERS DOWN is ruthlessly potent at instilling fear and panic.

Grade: B

Something Wild

SOMETHING WILD (Jonathan Demme, 1986)

When Charles Driggs (Jeff Daniels) slips out without paying for his lunch in SOMETHING WILD, another customer, Lulu (Melanie Griffith), notices and calls him out on it. Her interest isn’t in having him make things right with the New York City diner but in spotting him as a potential kindred spirit despite their contrasting appearances. Lulu’s flirtatiousness captivates Charles, and he accepts her offer to drive him back to his office. She has other plans, though, and points her green convertible westward for the beginning of a weekend adventure.

Charles doesn’t know what he’s got himself into with Lulu, whose real name he learns is Audrey. She regularly tests the buttoned up businessman’s capacity for lying, which extends farther than the husband and father of two would initially seem to possess. He makes up excuses for his boss and his wife regarding why he won’t be where he’s supposed to be. Meanwhile, Charles and Audrey pose as husband and wife for her mother and former high school classmates at her tenth reunion. Charles is enjoying this momentary freedom, but when Ray (Ray Liotta), an old acquaintance of Audrey’s, crosses their path, Charles finds that are also consequences to such impulsiveness.

Delivering on the title’s promise, SOMETHING WILD maintains its unpredictability as the two strangers weave their way across a few states. Although the film ultimately guides them to a conventional destination, the trip to that place is less psychologically straightforward and more perilous than in a standard romantic comedy. Charles’ initial attraction is plain as day, but what leads him to risk his established life so recklessly takes time to be revealed. It’s harder to get a read on Audrey and her motivations even as she fits into an an increasingly familiar film type.

SOMETHING WILD’s Audrey might be considered one of the progenitors of the quirky woman who shakes a rudderless man out of his boredom and unhappiness, as in GARDEN STATE and (500) DAYS OF SUMMER. The difference is that E. Max Frye’s screenplay resists the notion that she is a starry-eyed genie whose winsome nature alone can make everything better or that she exists primarily for Charles’ salvation. In fact, by adopting the name and black bob of Louise Brooks’ character in PANDORA’S BOX, Audrey presenting as Lulu suggests the inherent danger in Charles following her. He doesn’t know her but makes assumptions based entirely on what he can see and the fantasy-like role she fulfills. What might be thought of as her true self, the girl next door, still seems like a part imposed on her that she’s trying to escape. Griffith’s portrayal brings complexity to Audrey as someone with a strong idea of who she wants to be but not always the ability to be in control.

The work of recently deceased director Jonathan Demme exudes warmth for the people in his films, even those who aren’t front and center. As a road movie SOMETHING WILD provides the opportunity to meet all sorts of folks, and it’s remarkable how many of them make an impression with a minimum of time. Whether it’s a helpful gas station attendant, a group of B-boys in the background, or two old women working at a junk store, played by the mothers of the director and David Byrne, the film spots the decency in those one comes into contact with but don’t give a second thought to. The main characters in SOMETHING WILD have restless spirits, but Demme softly reminds us that there’s plenty to connect with wherever we are without always having to look elsewhere.

Grade: B+

It Comes at Night

IT COMES AT NIGHT (Trey Edward Shults, 2017)

A contagious disease has forced those who have survived so far to hole up in their homes, preferably far removed from the rest of society in IT COMES AT NIGHT. The family led by Paul (Joel Edgerton) and Sarah (Carmen Ejogo) has managed to make do in the country, but when her father (David Pendleton) catches the illness, they know they must euthanize him if the rest are to live. It’s a difficult thing for their seventeen-year-old son Travis (Kelvin Harrison Jr.) to help with. Still, what must be done must be done.

One night they find that a man has broken into their home. Will (Christopher Abbott) claims that he thought the place was abandoned and is seeking water for his wife Kim (Riley Keough) and their little boy Andrew (Griffin Robert Faulkner). Paul roughs up Will and considers killing him. Eventually he agrees that it may be safer to retrieve Will’s family and their supplies and have them move in as long as they agree to the strict rules of the house.

Writer-director Trey Edward Shults treated the searing family drama of his debut KRISHA like a horror movie. With IT COMES AT NIGHT he’s made a horror film featuring two families. While his latest may have more surface commonalities with genre films, both films study the dynamics in a closed system when tensions run high. In IT COMES AT NIGHT the stakes are elevated to matters of life and death rather than feelings and relationships. Of course, the latter can feel like the former among relatives.

In spite of its narrative and scenic asceticism, IT COMES AT NIGHT generates a fair amount of uneasiness. Shults doesn’t provide many details about the doomsday scenario the characters exist in, but he keeps the audience keenly aware that the smallest break from protocol could have fatal results. The suffocation is felt as the camera slowly wanders down a dark passage in the house and into a heavily wooded area. Shults understands that living in persistent dread is perhaps worse than terrible things popping out at you on occasion.

Although the spareness of IT COMES AT NIGHT is undeniably effective, it reaches a limit where the lack of detail becomes more frustrating than rewarding. The film doesn’t need a news report to fill in a lot of backstory about how things have devolved to current conditions, but it would help to have a better sense of the immediate threats and how the characters might keep the most pernicious one--the disease--at bay. If Shults is commenting on the insular and potentially damaging nature of families, then the film needs a stronger point of view. It’s aligned with Travis, who is at an age when, under normal conditions, he would be able to start establishing an identity separate from his parents. That can’t really happen when it’s everyone or every unit for themselves. Travis is exhibiting signs that he is developing different opinions, but IT COMES AT NIGHT doesn’t develop this angle enough for it to be fruitful.

Keeping everything cloaked in generality grants assigning all sort of meaning to what little action there is, yet the sinking feeling in IT COMES AT NIGHT is that the mystery amounts to less than the scraps examined for clarity.

Grade: C+

The Mummy

THE MUMMY (Alex Kurtzman, 2017)

In THE MUMMY Nick Morton (Tom Cruise) and his partner Chris Vail (Jake Johnson) are soldiers of fortune traversing Iraq while also looking for antiquities they can resell on the side. They get into a firefight with some insurgents and are bailed out with an airstrike by the military. Those bombs also reveal a long-hidden tomb for the Egyptian princess Ahmanet (Sofia Boutella), who was buried alive far away from her homeland because of the evil she sought to bring into the world. Nick and Chris would be happy to grab what they can from the site, but archaeologist Jenny Halsey (Annabelle Wallis) notes the importance of this find and persuades them to remove Ahmanet’s sarcophagus for further examination.

Supernatural forces under Ahmanet’s control crash the plane transporting them all back to London. Although Nick appears shockingly unharmed after plummeting from the sky, it’s determined that the revived Ahmanet has cursed him and intends to give physical form to the ancient god Set through him. Dr. Henry Jekyll (Russell Crowe), who leads a monster hunting squad named Prodigium, considers Nick the bait for destroying Ahmanet.

THE MUMMY is intended to launch the studio’s Dark Universe film series that will unite Universal Pictures’ classic monsters in a manner similar to the Marvel Connected Universe and DC Extended Universe. THE BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN is in the works, and films featuring The Wolfman, Dracula, and The Invisible Man will all presumably follow, not to mention MUMMY sequels if this one performs well enough. While this makes sense in terms of asset and brand management, the creative benefits are questionable, particularly in this first entry. THE MUMMY struggles to assert its own necessity beyond being the foundation for several other movies.

THE MUMMY credits three people for screen story and three others for screenplay, which suggests the script was worked over quite a bit. The film itself confirms as much. THE MUMMY often feels like it is trying to cobble together several ideas with different origins and purposes. The film lacks consistency as it attempts to do right by the franchise, the monster, and the star. It is not the unqualified financial success the studio would want for Dark Universe’s introductory offering, but worldwide returns suggest that THE MUMMY has done well enough to justify more chapters. Creative missteps can always be fixed with retconning. The mummy could refer to Boutella’s character or someone else in the film who encounters the supernatural. Regardless of who you consider to be the monster, the mummy gets shortchanged as an attention-demanding presence. THE MUMMY shows signs of being tailored for Cruise, but all that does is make even more of a hash of the story. It’s no secret that commercial films are products; THE MUMMY just seems more engineered for getting to market without a distinguishing quality.

Like the version of THE MUMMY with Brendan Fraser, this one is doing an Indiana Jones imitation of sorts. Cruise’s character, like everyone else, is poorly defined, which makes his self-centered rogue come off as unlikable or dull despite the actor’s efforts to turn up the charm. The grim Dark Universe name does not extend to THE MUMMY’s tone. Director Alex Kurtzman plays up the goofy and lighthearted nature of the material, particularly as Cruise gets tossed around like a rag doll. Films like this should be fun. Although THE MUMMY isn’t good, its lack of self-seriousness helps this compromised film play better.

Grade: C

Murder Party

MURDER PARTY (Jeremy Saulnier, 2007)

Christopher (Chris Sharp) is preparing to spend Halloween night watching horror movies, but his plans change when he finds an invitation on the sidewalk to a so-called murder party. He makes a Sir Lancelot costume out of a cardboard box in his closet and turns the smashed jack-o’-lantern on his doorstep into pumpkin bread to bring to the hosts. Christopher makes his way to the isolated Brooklyn warehouse where the party is being held in MURDER PARTY not expecting the dangerous situation he’s entered.

The collective of artists who sent out the invitations can hardly believe someone showed up. They anticipated spending the evening getting high and doing some work, but now that a victim has arrived, they intend to kill him and document it as provocative art. They’re mounting this project in the hope of getting grant money that Alexander (Alex Barnett) claims access to. While they wait until the witching hour to begin, tensions among the artists emerge, giving Christopher his best chance to get out alive.

MURDER PARTY plants the seeds for what writer-director Jeremy Saulnier refines in BLUE RUIN and GREEN ROOM. The protagonist becomes entangled in circumstances that greatly exceed what he is ready for, and the consequences are quite bloody. Although all three of Saulnier’s features mix horror and comedy, MURDER PARTY is more directly or broadly comedic, particularly as the artists bumble their way through their clearly unorganized plan and squabble as interpersonal relationships fray. Much of the humor is marked by a self-knowing quality puncturing the self-seriousness of artists, especially those seeking initial validation. The shots fired at these characters are on target but tend to be the most obvious jokes.

MURDER PARTY was made with a low budget and actors performing multiple tasks on the technical crew. Those factors imbue it with the sense of a bunch of friends making something for fun, which translates in the looseness of the effort. The special effects have inexpensive, handmade charm. The overactive Steadicam usage suggests acquiring access to a nice piece of equipment and using it as much as possible without taking its creative purpose into account. The smooth, swinging motions are more distracting than anything.

The varying calibers of the performances restrict MURDER PARTY from being as suspenseful as it could have been. Saulnier is aiming for something goofier, as these would-be killers are not geniuses in art or crime. Still, he doesn’t exploit the apprehension inherent in the scenario. Rather, it limps along until a flip gets switched to increase the body count. MURDER PARTY plays like a really good film to share among the social circle that made it but one that could stand more polish to reach those beyond that group. It contains indications of promise that Saulnier developed in the films that followed, making it of interest more as an early work than as a standalone achievement.

Grade: C

The Lovers

THE LOVERS (Azazel Jacobs, 2017)

Although Michael (Tracy Letts) and Mary (Debra Winger) are husband and wife in THE LOVERS, they are effectively already separated. Whether each is aware the other is having an affair or not doesn’t seem to matter. Michael makes half-hearted excuses about meeting a friend or staying late at work while slipping away to be with ballet teacher Lucy (Melora Walters). Mary doesn’t really mind as she is often getting together with writer Robert (Aidan Gillen).

With some pressure from their paramours, both Michael and Mary are close to telling the other that they are leaving the marriage. They just need to wait until after their son Joel (Tyler Ross) and his girlfriend Erin (Jessica Sula) come home for the weekend. A funny thing happens in the lead-up to this visit. Michael and Mary wake up nose-to-nose one morning and rediscover something that attracted them so many years ago, causing them to sneak around with each other on their lovers.

THE LOVERS has the makings of a farce or the kind of romantic comedy that the French tend to be better at executing than other countries, but writer-director Azazel Jacobs makes the unpleasantness of these relationships almost oppressive to bear. Michael and Mary are miserable people who have supposedly found at least a small measure of happiness outside their marriage, although even their lovers seem more like diversions than emotional investments. This material could be presented as tragedy or comedy. It certainly could be funny--and it’s apparent that it’s meant to be to some degree--yet Jacobs chooses a middle ground that doesn’t flatter the heavier or lighter components. He flattens the couple’s inner lives and employs Mandy Hoffman’s score as counterpoint, sweeping music for people not prone to grand or sweet gestures.

THE LOVERS’ lack of humanity cannot be blamed on its lead actors. Letts, a writer with scene-stealing supporting performances in INDIGNATION and CHRISTINE, favors highlighting Michael’s absurdity, especially in how he’s ended up pursuing a woman who exhibits some of the nagging wife-like qualities that one might assume caused him to cheat in the first place. Letts reveals that the character knows he’s letting down everyone because he’s given up on himself. Winger’s Mary seems fatigued and is just drifting wherever the currents take her. Winger is good at wielding Mary’s relational boredom as a defense. Neither performance cuts very deep because the roles are not written with complexity, but Letts and Winger hint at layers there to be uncovered.

To acquaintances Michael and Mary might appear to have functional lives. Evaluated on their own, the various pieces of THE LOVERS look like they will assemble into a compelling portrait of a broken marriage. In actuality, the film and the relationship in it amount to less than what can be observed. They have a shell of a marriage, and the film, while rich with promise, is similarly hollow.

Grade: C

Baywatch

BAYWATCH (Seth Gordon, 2017)

Mitch Buchannon (Dwayne Johnson) and his beautiful team of lifeguards in BAYWATCH don’t just keep Emerald Bay’s beachgoers safe; they function like a pseudo-police force to ensure the city’s well-being. Disgraced Olympic champion Matt Brody (Zac Efron) expects just to show up and become a member of the highly esteemed unit, but Mitch insists that he earn one of the three coveted spots available to this year’s class of hopefuls. Summer Quinn (Alexandra Daddario) and the out-of-shape but tireless Ronnie (Jon Bass) prove their worth to join a Baywatch squad that already includes the disarmingly pretty CJ (Kelly Rohrbach) and second-in-command Stephanie (Ilfenesh Hadera).

The drugs washing up on the beach are a concern to Mitch, but the bodies that his team finds point to a bigger problem. He suspects Victoria Leeds (Priyanka Chopra), the new owner of the Huntley Club, has something to do with all of this but lacks proof. Determined to set things right, Mitch and the rest of Baywatch investigate what’s going on with the city’s elite and well-connected.

The film version of BAYWATCH brings back the beefcake and cheesecake, memorable red swimsuits, and slow-motion jogging on the sand and in the surf that established the TV series as a syndication mainstay and guilty pleasure through the 1990s. Director Seth Gordon and the film’s writers strike a somewhat irreverent tone in handling this unserious material, yet laughs get pushed aside the more BAYWATCH becomes invested in solving the unsurprising mystery driving the story. The filmmakers acknowledge and make light of the prurient appeal of the source material and this adaptation, but unlike clear inspirations 21 JUMP STREET and THE BRADY BUNCH movies, which break free of and mercilessly ridicule the original TV shows, BAYWATCH maintains a certain reverence for its predecessor that seems highly misguided. What should be silly fun becomes kind of a drag as it focuses on cracking a case.

Johnson bubbles with so much enthusiasm that by sheer force of will he tries to sell this mediocre comedy as premium product. He’s made his share of middling films, including this one, but give him credit for expending maximum effort even when he doesn’t have much to work with. For a film as conscious of body image as BAYWATCH, Efron looks painfully ripped, which might have served as a good joke if it weren’t indicative of a literal arms race to try and match Johnson’s appearance. In the NEIGHBORS films Efron has served well as a comic foil but gets crowded out here.

Ironically, the BAYWATCH film probably makes for an accurate adaptation because it can be passable as an eye-catching distraction while not being any good. The failure of imagination may stand most starkly in how the film integrates the two cameos anyone reading the opening credits awaits. Of course David Hasselhoff and Pamela Anderson drop by, but their moments are so perfunctory that it feels as though they are included to meet contractual obligations. What could have been broadly entertaining comes off as highly uninspired.

Grade: C-

Barking Dogs Never Bite (Flandersui Gae)

BARKING DOGS NEVER BITE (FLANDERSUI GAE) (Bong Joon-ho, 2000)

A yappy little dog somewhere in the big apartment complex irritates the unemployed Yun-ju (Lee Sung-jae) to no end in the South Korean dark comedy BARKING DOGS NEVER BITE. When Yun-ju finds what he believes to be the offending canine, he disposes of it. To his dismay, he learns that he got rid of the wrong dog and now must abduct and kill another. Even worse, his pregnant wife brings home a dog to dote on.

Bookkeeper Hyun-nam (Bae Doona) takes note of the increase in residents wanting her to approve flyers about their missing dogs. From a distance she is horrified to spot Yun-ju tossing one off a building. Hyun-nam is also determined to bring him to justice for this because the fame in catching him to justice may provide financial rewards. A janitor (Byun Hee-bong) for the buildings doesn’t mind coming across these dead dogs because he can add them to the soup he makes in the basement.

BARKING DOGS NEVER BITE has a twisted sense of humor that will undoubtedly offend some viewers’ sensibilities. The film opens with a statement that no animals were hurt in its making, and it t is not graphic in depicting the ends the unfortunate pooches meet. Nevertheless, the premise and some images are likely to be upsetting to some prospective audience members. For those who can get past such obstacles, director and co-writer Bong Joon-ho provides a series of inventively funny scenarios, whether from misunderstandings, pushing the boundaries of good taste, or a combination. Sometimes he applies a live-action cartoon style, particularly during foot chases, which helps to cue that the film intends for it be received with a lighter tone despite the darker comedy.

As Bong’s debut feature, BARKING DOGS NEVER BITE is marked with first film shortcomings. It takes awhile to settle into its unhurried pace. Scenes often unspool deliberately rather than with a flurry of jokes, highlighting his ability to craft individual moments and struggle to connect them meaningfully. The film finds a rhythm that makes sense in the larger picture--it is, to some degree, about the experience of time when stuck personally and professionally--but the storytelling can breed impatience. There’s a brashness to the film’s risks that feel somewhat like a young filmmaker determining what he can get away with, although to Bong’s credit, the film doesn’t play as a work of meaningless provocation.

Economic and social concerns underpin BARKING DOGS NEVER BITE that may be more immediately obvious to native audiences or those who saw it during its initial release. The satirical elements linking it with the novel A DOG OF FLANDERS and commenting on the Asian financial crisis of the late 1990s were lost in translation for me to a point, which may be why the dramatic turns feel grafted onto the back stretch. Yun-ju is demoralized by his trouble finding a job as a professor. He’s further disenchanted that he only catches a break via an acquaintance’s accidental demise and his ability to submit a bribe to the dean. Hyun-nam and her friend bank the improvement of their stations in life on the turn of the century equivalent of going viral. Unlike the dogs that people lavish unconditional love on, these characters feel like strays. BARKING DOGS NEVER BITE thus casts a hard look at why the cruelty visited upon the animals is so shocking while comparative treatment to humans goes ignored.

Grade: B-

The Wall

THE WALL (Doug Liman, 2017)

The Iraq War is officially winding down in 2007 in THE WALL, but fulfilling their duties are no less dangerous for Staff Sergeant Shane Matthews (John Cena) and his spotter Allan Isaac (Aaron Taylor-Johnson). The pair are summoned near a pipeline under construction where an Iraqi sniper has been picking off contractors. They are on the scene to ascertain whether there are any survivors and if they can find the enemy responsible for killing with surgical precision.

Scanning the site from a distance while camouflaged, they determine that no one is alive but are less certain if the gunman might still be in the vicinity. Matthews grows tired of waiting and approaches the construction scene. It’s not long before a bullet strikes him and brings him down. Isaac attempts to come to his help, but unable to locate the sniper, he is also shot and is forced to take shelter behind a crumbling wall. His radio is damaged in the exchange, so when he is able to make contact with his communications device, the voice on the other end belongs to Juba (Laith Nakli), the hidden Iraqi responsible for all of these casualties.

THE WALL provides a good example of how direction and editing can enhance what is on the page. The screenplay by Dwain Worrell could be realized as a stage play mounted on a shoestring budget and not lose its essence. That quality doesn’t inherently detract from the film but reveals its limitations. THE WALL is primarily a dialogue between Iraq War counterparts that hits familiar notes about soldiers on opposite sides of a conflict. The film feels most vital when the conversation is about the matter at hand and digs into the cat-and-mouse tactics each man employs to gain advantages. Exploring this single faceoff as emblematic of the larger conflict yields more ordinary observations.

What Worrell brings to the film isn’t to be discounted, but director Doug Liman keeps this showdown tense when the story and dialogue fade in urgency. THE WALL has something of an exercise or challenge aspect to the production. It’s as though it is being made under limitations for the sake of prompting more creative decisions. Liman and editor Julia Bloch are up to the task as they never lose sight of the real-time (or mostly real-time) pressures and constrain the film’s perspective to what Isaac can see with the naked eye or his busted scope.

With Juba existing as a disembodied voice, he assumes the mantle of confessor and executioner. Isaac continues to live not out of mercy but so he can account for his and his country’s sins while receiving no promise of absolution for either. The desert setting lends to the impression of Isaac and Juba’s interaction harkening to a stark, primitive time when man felt more deeply vulnerable to an unseen interlocutor in control of his fate. THE WALL is not obliged to resolve the issues it inspects about this particular war, but its bitter conclusion smacks of a beginner’s casual understanding of nihilism. The pessimism isn’t necessarily uncalled for; it just seems like the easiest way out.

Grade: B-

Snatched

SNATCHED (Jonathan Levine, 2017)

In SNATCHED Emily Middleton (Amy Schumer) loses her job and boyfriend in quick succession, meaning that the timing for her imminent, nonrefundable vacation for two to Ecuador comes when she needs it most and can least afford it. Unable to find a friend interested to take her ex’s spot, Emily persuades her mother Linda (Goldie Hawn) to tag along. Linda is a worrywart who is happy to lay around the resort reading books than seeing the sites. Hotel guests Ruth (Wanda Sykes) and her best friend, retired Special Ops agent Barb (Joan Cusack), confirm Linda’s fears about being vigilant for one’s safety while out of the country.

Emily disregards them and sidles up to handsome stranger James (Tom Bateman), with whom she has an amazing night experiencing the area like a local. Emily convinces her mother to join her and James on a day trip that ends with the validation of Linda’s worst anxieties. They are abducted and held for ransom. Their best hope for rescue rests back home with Emily’s agoraphobic brother Jeffrey (Ike Barinholtz) even as they escape from their captors and end up lost in the Colombian countryside.

Teaming up heroes across a shared universe is the go-to strategy for event pictures these days. In bringing together most prominently Schumer and Hawn, who returns to the movies after fifteen years, SNATCHED does something similar with funny women in film. It’s a good idea in theory even if it doesn’t always translate in practice. In spite of the equal billing, Hawn is often underutilized, especially because her character isn’t on screen for a significant portion of the film’s ninety minutes. She has a good rapport with Schumer but deserves more opportunities to show off her comedic chops than this second fiddle part. Christopher Meloni’s supporting role as an expedition leader produces bigger and more memorable laughs than the presumptive co-lead.

As the main character it’s hard to suggest that Schumer steals a movie that basically belongs to her anyway. Regardless, her TRAINWRECK follow-up reasserts her talents as a film comedian. She’s game for whatever Katie Dippold’s screenplay throws her way, and that comfort allows her to shrug off the humiliating lengths her character will go to in pursuit of her desires. Although Emily bares a neediness that leads her into embarrassing situations, Schumer plays it as a strength in expressing herself instead of exposing a pathetic, mewling quality. She’s good-humored about it, which is why she can pull off a scene as mortifying as the one when her date accidentally sees her in a compromising position as she gets cleaned up for a night out.

The humor in SNATCHED is certainly not refined but exudes puckish vulgarity that grants more leeway for the dirtiest jokes and a hilarious gross-out gag with a tapeworm. The playfulness also helps to gloss over the the potentially troublesome stereotypes the film imposes on many of the South American characters. SNATCHED appears to be laughing at the distorted views of this part of the world as shaped by the news, but it’s fair to consider if it is reinforcing them. The takeaway from the film isn’t such depictions, though, but Schumer’s willingness to go for broke.

Grade: B

Train to Busan (Busanhaeng)

TRAIN TO BUSAN (BUSANHAENG) (Yeon Sang-ho, 2016)

The passengers on a train bound for South Korea’s second biggest city see news reports of riots breaking out across the country but expect they are largely shielded from it as they zip across the land in TRAIN TO BUSAN (BUSANHAENG). Unfortunately for them, an infected person slipped onto the train without notice and starts turning others on board into zombies.

Among those fighting for their lives are fund manager Seok-woo (Gong Yoo) and his young daughter Soo-an (Kim Soo-an), a high school baseball team; and a pregnant woman (Jung Yu-mi) and her husband (Ma Dong-seok). A large number of riders emerge unscathed from the initial attack after noticing that the zombies lack object permanence. If they can’t see you, whether in the dark or by covering a window, they won’t pursue. The passengers plan to disembark at the next station, but when it proves to be overrun with the living dead, the best choice is to get back on the train, even with its threats, and go to Busan, which is reportedly still open.

TRAIN TO BUSAN bolts through its stripped-down premise like the fast zombies terrorizing South Korea. Director Yeon Sang-ho, a co-writer with Park Joo-suk, uses the urgency and efficiency in the zombies-on-a-train scenario to keep the film in a constant state of tension once the outbreak begins. It’s the kind of genre exercise that is essentially bulletproof. Put people in a contained space with their antagonists, and let the survivors get sorted out. Yeon and Park come up with several different situations for the humans to fend for their lives as though they are video game heroes completing levels. Pace and novelty are maintained while characterization and topical interests lag behind.

TRAIN TO BUSAN’s lack of backstory is a virtue because there isn’t a pressing need to know why this is happening, just that it is. The details that might bring more color and resonance to the struggle get papered over amid the excitement of sticking close to the protagonists as they try to avoid nasty bites. The characters are ciphers who don’t need names because each with any prominence has an identifying characteristic while the rest serve as set dressing. Whether or not the passengers abide by the Golden Rule carries significance, but the simplistic sprinkling of thematic import hardly provides serious contemplation of the pros and cons of altruism.

Still, this lean and vicious zombie movie is effective in a visceral way. Those in the hungry mob are unsettling with their spastic movements. TRAIN TO BUSAN isn’t especially gory, but the quickness and violence of the attacks and the snarling sounds imply visions of more horrific wounds than what gets seen. Although the film doesn’t aspire to achieve much beyond the basic thrills, it’s sufficiently satisfying in that regard.

Grade: B-

The Lost City of Z

THE LOST CITY OF Z (James Gray, 2016)

An undecorated British soldier whose family name was tarnished by his father’s drinking and gambling, Percy Fawcett (Charlie Hunnam) seeks to make his mark when London’s Royal Geographical Society asks him to map the the border separating Bolivia and Peru. The assignment in THE LOST CITY OF Z offers the promise of respect and glory that has so far eluded him. Although it means leaving his pregnant wife Nina (Sienna Miller) and their son for more than a year working in the field beginning in 1906, Fawcett accepts. Deep in the Amazon he and his aide-de-camp Henry Costin (Robert Pattinson) come across what might be artifacts from a hidden city his native scout spoke of, but circumstances prevent them from exploring further.

Fawcett remains enthusiastic about returning to search for a place that sounds to some like the mythical El Dorado. Years later Nina’s discovery of a document fuels his belief that there is an advanced place in the jungle that would upend western civilization’s perception of what they think to be a savage land. Nina hopes that her part in building support for another exploit in the Amazon can be parlayed into joining her husband, but despite his belief in their equality in mind, he rejects her suggestion that she can endure the physical hardships in such an undertaking. Again his journey to Amazonia hints at the promise of a find, but he comes up short. Nearly two decade after his search, Fawcett is funded for another opportunity.

Based on a true story told in David Grann’s book of the same name, THE LOST CITY OF Z promises a grand adventure that plumbs the depths of a man’s obsession. Fawcett may have a smidgen of Indiana Jones in him--a single shot, intentionally or not, mirrors one from RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK--but the hero and the film have more in common with the explorers in Werner Herzog’s AGUIRRE, THE WRATH OF GOD and FITZCARRALDO. The persistent tugging at Fawcett’s soul to achieve something great could be what allows him to make a singular discovery in history. It could also be a touch of madness, which certainly inflicts Klaus Kinski as an expedition leader in AGUIRRE and might be diagnosed in his rubber baron endeavoring to have indigenous Amazonians drag a steamship over a hill in FITZCARRALDO.

Writer-director James Gray makes clear the daunting nature of Fawcett’s efforts but is coy when it comes to the strange experiences the protagonist has. THE LOST CITY OF Z possesses a dream-like quality enhanced by a hushed sound design that invites watching in a state between being awake and lost in a reverie. There are moments in which it could be possible that what is presented is fevered illusion instead of reality. Gray doesn’t demarcate whether what transpires under stress and strain in the wild Amazonian environment is as tangible as conversations in the shadowy, tamed interiors of England and Ireland. Hunnam plays Fawcett with firm and fervent belief, building a man who one would be confident to place trust in even as he might be self-deluded and bringing about his own ruin. Miller’s performance is key because Nina bears the burden of what consumes Fawcett yet puts her faith in him nonetheless.

Gray and cinematographer Darius Khondji evoke a bygone era for this story and in cinema with painterly shot compositions and lighting that provide an unending source of pleasure in their own right. THE LOST CITY OF Z is constructed of sumptuous and often very dark visuals, which underline the mystery and the desire to dive inside into the unknown to see what others haven’t spotted. The knockout final shot does not clarify what to make of the characters’ outcomes but instead emphasizes again the seductive power of vanishing into a place ripe for discovery.

Grade: B+

Colossal

COLOSSAL (Nacho Vigalondo, 2016)

In COLOSSAL unemployed writer Gloria (Anne Hathaway) moves from New York City back to her parents’ empty house after her self-destructive ways become too much for her boyfriend Tim (Dan Stevens). Gloria catches a break when she runs into Oscar (Jason Sudeikis), an elementary school friend with whom she’s long lost touch. He’s eager to help her out, including giving her a part-time job at his bar, although that may not be for the best considering her troubled relationship with alcohol.

Life gets much more complicated for Gloria when, twenty-five years after first appearing in Seoul, a giant monster again manifests out of thin air in the South Korean capital. The significance of this isn’t immediately apparent, but Gloria comes to realize that somehow she is connected to the kaiju. If she sets foot within a playground’s boundaries at the right time, the creature materializes a continent away and follows her movements. Not only is this supremely strange, it also gives Gloria reason to be remorseful for the inadvertent damage she wreaks as this monster.

Gloria’s bond with the beast functions as an inventive allegory for problematic drinking, although that perspective has a limit. Whether in her blacked-out stupor or monstrous self-projection, she has a habit of causing harm to those around her. Hathaway avoids giving a mannered performance, favoring instead a more casual way of acting that highlights the character’s ability to function while noticeably in need of a healthier lifestyle and self-image. COLOSSAL skirts the question of if Gloria is an alcoholic, in part because that subject is not what is of primary interest.

While the film looks like it may view the Hathaway-starring drama RACHEL GETTING MARRIED or Billy Wilder’s THE LOST WEEKEND through a contemporary genre lens, writer-director Nacho Vigalondo has a different target in its sight. To reveal in depth what’s really being explored would spoil the pleasure of discovering it for oneself. Suffice it to say that it seems deliberate for Vigalondo to hide the pill inside a film likely with the most surface appeal for a young male audience. The purpose of the trick is to evoke empathy in those who might be more resistant if Vigalondo was more direct about what he wants to address.

COLOSSAL could get to the point faster than it does and would benefit from smoothing a pivotal character shift that seems rather abrupt even if, in retrospect, the revealed qualities were there all along. The sarcasm Sudeikis often brings to roles can make him seem insincere, but that trait serves him well in a character whose motivations are submerged. The film’s humor lightens the heavier thematic components and provides a great exclamation point. Although COLOSSAL is a bit ungainly, this unusual comedic mash-up of monster and message movie profits from its ambition.

Grade: B