Outliers

YESTERDAY (B) - Danny Boyle comes through in the clutch with an entertaining and enjoyable interpretation of a script from the cheese factory of screenwriter Richard Curtis ("Mr. Bean," "Love Actually," Bridget Jones' Diary"). The story (by Jack Barth) focuses on struggling singer-songwriter Jack Malik (Himesh Patel), who, after a mysterious global power glitch, remains the only apparent person on the planet who remembers the Beatles, who otherwise have been erased from history.

Seizing the opportunity, Jack starts re-creating Beatles songs from memory and eventually becomes a sensation with all those catchy tunes. The joy of the film is in this conceit and the fun that Boyle and the gang have with it. The downside is that Curtis insists on jamming a stale (borderline misogynistic) rom-com cliche into the proceedings involving Jack and his longtime friend/manager Ellie (Lily James, "Cinderella," "Baby Driver"). That phony will-they love story itself drags this down a grade. There's also the assumption that Beatles songs would still drive the masses crazy if they debuted in the modern era.

But Boyle, Britain's pop-auteur ("Millions," "Sunshine," "Slumdog Millionaire"), is assured with the narrative otherwise. The little touches make this special. For example, Jack struggles to remember all the words and chords (especially the tricky order of the verses of "Eleanor Rigby"). His quickie internet searches for "Beatles" turns up pictures of insects and Volkswagens. And, naturally, Oasis never existed either -- because how could the uber-derivative Gallagher brothers ever have found inspiration without the Fab Four? Boyle works the prolific Ed Sheeran into the mix as himself, a (what else?) collaborator on the songs as well as a rival for songwriting supremacy. Sheeran is wonderfully self-deprecating and an amusing comic foil for Jack. (Not happy with "Hey, Jude," he spitballs an alternative title: "Hey, Dude.")

Meantime, the songs are as catchy as ever. Patel is a charming leading man. Boyle delivers a high-energy juggernaut. And a scene toward the end with one of the Beatles who never became a Beatle is touching and magical. It's worth tuning in for just that visual, but thanks to this team, the movie itself is an overall success.

JOKER (C-minus) - The less said about this nihilistic cinematic cipher the better. Joaquin Phoenix is a marvel to behold, but this dark, dank throwback to the gloom of '70s-'80s New York plays like both an homage to that heyday of Martin Scorsese (a mix of "Taxi Driver" and "King of Comedy") and a childish misinterpretation of that whole era.

Poor failed clown Arthur Fleck has a mental condition that makes him laugh at inopportune times. That gets him beat up. Does he take revenge on just those thugs? No, he somehow turns into a mercenary and a leader of an uprising against the rich. Huh? Because Bruce Wayne's parents are rich? Talk about a retrofitted narrative.

Anyway, this is bleak and unrelenting, and it's impossible to avoid comparing this to the white-supremacist (Joker is in whiteface, after all) and incel movements. (Arthur lusts limply over a neighbor who appears to be mixed race -- Zazie Beetz, a mere pawn in this script.) It justifies violent and impotent rage. You might be interested in how Stephen Miller got the way he is, but I'm not.