The Noir Chronicles

Another summer festival at the Guild Cinema, from postwar nuggets to that '70s drift:

THE LATE SHOW (1977) (A) - Modern noir from Robert Benton ("Kramer vs. Kramer," "Nobody's Fool") has Art Carney, in the gritty L.A. footsteps of Elliott Gould in Robert Altman's '73 classic "The Long Goodbye," limping around as over-the-hill Ira Wells, who gets odd-coupled with young new agey Margo Sterling (a perfectly manic Lily Tomlin), ostensibly to help find her cat.

Character actors Bill Macy ("Maude") and Eugene Roche (you'll recognize him) help zip this along, spitting out Benton's one-liners that are by turn clever and kitschy, homage with a twist. Carney is grizzled, grumpy and living on Alka Seltzer. Tomlin meditates, designs her own clothes and trusts in the universe. When Ira's old colleague shows up on his doorstep gutshot, Ira is determined to track down his killer and unravel the mystery involving Roche's slick-talking fence, a cheating wife, and a stolen stamp collection.

The dialogue sparkles, and Carney and Tomlin have undeniable chemistry, two talented comics bringing depth and heart to their characters.

Spotted: Joanna Cassidy ("Blade Runner," TV's "Buffalo Bill") as the femme fatale with the great gams. 

D.O.A. (1949) (B) - Edmond O'Brien is solid as a poisoned man determined to solve his own murder in the hours before he succumbs. He combs the streets of San Francisco and L.A., interacting with thugs and dames, as he slowly falters from the poison coursing through his system. Femmes fatale like Lynn Baggett and Beverly Garland (later of "My Three Sons") contrast with the secretary who pines for the hero, a perky turn by Pamela Britton (later TV's Blondie). Sharp dialogue emanates from the typewriters of Russell Rouse and Clarence Greene (they also wrote "Pillow Talk") in Rudolph Mate's moody gem.

Spotted: Jerry Paris ("The Dick van Dyke Show") as a bellhop.

RED LIGHT (1949) (D+) - Absolutely ridiculous, this revenge thriller plays like a parody of classic noir tropes. The plot literally makes no sense. Raymond Burr proves that he has little range beyond criminal-defense lawyer and disabled private eye. And George Raft might have been a star in his day, but here he's an unreconcilable ham as a businessman trying to solve the mystery of his war-hero priest brother's death.

Spotted: William Frawley ("I Love Lucy"), who elicited snickers throughout the audience when he confronts someone he suspects of being a detective with the question, "Are you a dick?"
  

Missing the Mark

SORRY TO BOTHER YOU (C+) - A lot of good ideas here fail to find traction or go off on tangents, and the cast often seems to work at cross-purposes.

It's as if Spike Lee, having never been to film school, tried to meld "Get Out" with "Idiocracy" for his debut feature. Lakeith Stanfield was quite the discovery in "Short Term 12," but he was forgettable in "Get Out," and he strikes the wrong tone here as a telemarketing employee tempted by corporate riches, falling short as a leading man. He can be forgiven for failing to grasp the gestalt in this mess, though Tessa Thompson ("Creed," "Dear White People") is electrifying, as usual, as the subversive artist girlfriend. Armie Hammer, playing the face of corporate evil, is a dud, as usual.

Hip hopper Boots Riley (The Coup) never corrals his big ideas about capitalism, greed, race and class. He's directing with boxing gloves on. A bizarre twist midway through the film is, frankly, preposterous, and it's hard to take any of this polemic seriously. Maybe that's the point, but I don't think it is. There's visual panache, but that's what music videos are for.

VALLEY OF LOVE (B-minus) - Worth it for the pairing of screen legends Isabelle Huppert and Gerard Depardieu, this story of a son's suicide bringing back together his long-estranged parents to, of all places, Death Valley in California, suffers from a slow pace and a lack of a payoff.

But there's something about this slow grind that keeps you hooked. It's certainly not the sight of Depardieu's enormous, hideous gut, which is often on prominent display. It's more the volumes that Huppert speaks through simple casual glances and imperceptible arches of an eyebrow. There is sadness here but also healthy nostalgia for those fulfilling, captivating relationships of your 20s and 30s that launched your adulthood.

BONUS TRACK
The Coup, featuring Stanfield, with "OYAHYTT" from the "Sorry" soundtrack:


 

Heart of Darkness

FIRST REFORMED (B) - Ethan Hawke is solid as a depressed alcoholic priest in Paul Schrader's latest journey into the darkness of the heart. Hawke's Rev. Toller is haunted by personal demons from his past and in despair over the viability of the quaint, historic church he oversees in upstate New York.

Amanda Seyfried has a deft touch with the role of Mary (major symbolism flying around here), a woman who goes to the Reverend concerned that her husband is planning to carry out eco-terrorism. Meantime, fossil-fuel bigwigs donate blood money to the little church on the eve of a major anniversary. Cedric (the Entertainer) Kyles is perfect as the head of a nearby megachurch, a man with good intentions who sees no need to crush its dying rival, which has more tourists than parishioners.

The mood is puritanically grim. Toller scrawls rants in a diary while keeping a steady pour from the hard stuff. Things bog down about halfway through, and a 20-minute trim would have been helpful. But the final 15 minutes are harrowing, as Schrader knits together subtle horror/suspense elements and visual shocks that might haunt you for days afterward.

THE PARTY (C) - A decent ensemble case fumbles around with a wisp of a story in Sally Potters arch art film in which the slaughter rule should be invoked as style wins over substance. Potter ("Orlando," the galling "Yes") shoots in crisp black-and-white for this expanded ensemble ripoff of "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?"

Kristin Scott-Thomas draws a blank as an ambitious British politician seemingly weighed down by her sickly pathetic husband (Timothy Spall). Patricia Clarkson is annoying as her annoying, sycophantic, stuck-up friend who spars constantly with her German lover (Bruno Ganz). Cherry Jones and Emily Mortimer have a spark as a bickering lesbian couple. But soon Cillian Murphy shows up as a coked-up businessman whining about his missing lover, the Godot of the story that everyone seems to be waiting for.

There is little chemistry among all of the permutations here. Rarely has so much talent gone to waste. Even at a slim 71 minutes you'll be tempted to fast-forward through the pretentious dialogue and the theatrical buffoonery.
 

Pulp Fiction - Summer Edition

DEADPOOL 2 (B) - Ryan Reynolds is a charmer, even when being a nihilistic smart-ass in a super-hero movie.  The original "Deadpool," which we recently caught up with as show prep, required some fast-forwarding through the violent scenes, and I wish I'd had that option at the megaplex for the sequel. But this zips by fast enough in right around two hours, and if you are inured to cartoon violence you might not mind it.

Reynolds besieges the viewer with randy one-liners, fleeting pop-culture references, and obscure Marvel call-backs (and loopy call-backs to call-backs).  T.J. Miller has a bigger role, and he and Reynolds have a verbal sizzle together. The story is far-fetched, as you'd expect. Characters die but come back via the after-life. Leslie Uggams' blind lady character walks the line between offensive and hilarious.  Reynolds seems all in (he gets a screenwriting credit), and a CGI scene that gives him "baby legs" (complete with "Basic Instinct" leg-crossing) is one for the ages, certain to give teenage boys a go-to reference decades hence in a way that "Caddyshack" once did for us. (And I never tired of his quaint exchanges with the super-perky Yukio (Shioli Kutsuna).)

The self-mocking swagger takes the air (the piss?) out of the usual Marvel bloat, and I alternated between laughing out loud at some of the gags and rolling my eyes as the stupid battle scenes. It's all embarrassingly good, raunchy fun.

OCEAN'S EIGHT (B) - A great cast elevates a clever script that tries a little too hard to be clever in this female counterpart to the Steven Soderbergh's tripartite tribute to the Rat Pack, back at the turn of the millennium, when Harvey Weinstein's boys had all of the toys. Sandra Bullock, whose comedic chops we discovered in "The Heat," is more muted than she's been in the past, but she's generous with her co-stars. 

Gen X and Millennial uber stars like Cate Blanchett and Anne Hathaway savor their juicy bad-girl roles. Dame Helena Bonham Carter is charmingly daffy. The single-named Rihanna and Awkwafina bring a punk freshness to the genre. And Sarah Paulson and Mindy Kaling solidify the middle of the lineup.

The plot is clever. You can spot a few holes, but for Hollywood summer fare, the plausibility ranking is unusually high. Director Gary Ross does his usually workmanlike job behind the camera, with a writing assist from newcomer Olivia Milch. Celebrity cameos whiz by. Bullock wisecracks like Barbara Stanwyck. The 110 minutes fly by pretty quickly, and you end up more entertained than insulted. Good enough for summer.
 

New to the Queue

A change of scenery ...

A documentary about three men reunited in adulthood as triplets separated at birth, "Three Identical Strangers."

Debra Granik ("Winter's Bone" and "Down to the Bone") is back with a drama about a father and daughter living off the grid, "Leave No Trace."

Clio Barnard ("The Selfish Giant") contributes another gritty drama, about a family farm in Yorkshire, "Dark River."

Hip-hopper Boots Riley casts Lakeith Stanfield ("Short Term 12") as a telemarketing sales rep in Riley's debut feature "Sorry to Bother You."

A dark comedy about a suburban feud between neighboring families, "Under the Tree."