On the Lam

 

NIKA AND MADISON (B) - Every generation gets the "Thelma and Louise" it deserves. Here, two indigenous young women hit the road after one of them violently rejects the sexual aggression  of a police officer while off the Canadian reservation. 

 

Star Slade brings star power to the screen as Madison a flailing college student who meets up with old pal Nika (Ellyn Jade) on a visit back home. Nika is gruff and plain-spoken and rebuffs Madison's pleas to go out on the town. When Madison gets into a bar fight -- and then a tussle with the handsy cop -- Nika comes to the rescue. Meantime, the tribal president (Gail Maurice) defies the investigators and enforces the tribe's jurisdictional authority over the local police.

Amanda Brugel and Shawn Doyle flash a fantastic chemistry as the TV-style trash-talking detectives. Doyle's brusque Det. Warhurst has little patience for the niceties of diplomatic relations, and Brugel imbues her Det. Timmins with a jagged sarcasm that hints at sympathies for the young women of color. 

Slade lights up the screen with big eyes and an appealing smile, but she also digs deep for the ennui Madison is experiencing on the mainstream academic track. Nika has a hard-shell protecting a bruised interior; she describes herself as having "lost my momentum." But you know there is a not-so-cryptic reason for why she has shut down emotionally. The only true misstep: a "Breakfast Club" moment when the stylish, urbane Madison dolls up the tomboyish Nika for a night out in the big city.

Otherwise, this pair of dueling duos chug down parallel tracks as filmmaker Eva Thomas (co-writing with Michael McGowan) steers clear of plot potholes and brings this familiar but authentic tale to a satisfying finish in less than 90 minutes. This is thoughtful, quiet but effective storytelling.

SIRAT (B-minus) - The first half of this apocalyptic road movie has a powerful hum to it, peeling away layers from a carnival cast of characters wandering the Moroccan desert as the start of World War III apparently plays out off-screen in the background. 

Sergi Lopez stars as Luis, a portly normie infiltrating the desert rave scene searching for his missing daughter. He has ill-advisedly brought his young son with him (and their dog), which bogs him down as he tries to keep pace with a troupe of oddballs leading a three-vehicle caravan to the next festival site where they might track down Luis' daughter. The off-the-grid group (compared by one viewer to a Jodorosky cast) is led by the visually arresting punk Jade (Jade Oukid) and includes the androgynous Steff (Stefania Gadda), as well as a man with one leg and another missing his right hand.  

 

Filmmaker Oliver Laxe (co-writing with Santiago Fillol) is too enamored of the blaring, pulsating dance music that opens the film and provides trippy interludes for the nomads; he struggles to weave it smoothly into the narrative. Luis's SUV often can't keep up on the off-road path traversed by the group's steampunk trucks, but Jade & Co. refuse to abandon the poor shlub. 

However, the wheels come off of this cross between "Mad Max" and "The Road" in the final third, as Laxe begins to pummel the audience with unspeakably violent acts that pick off characters one at a time. As the caravan becomes trapped in a minefield (a metaphor for a filmmaker derailed from his plot), and the detonations start, "Sirat" becomes an endurance contest. (And with every blast, I couldn't help being reminded of SCTV's Big Jim McBob and Billy Sol Hurock.) What starts out with dystopian promise devolves into Laxe's game of Whac-a-Mole with his characters, fumbling a promising opportunity.

28 YEARS LATER (C) - I don't remember much about "28 Days Later" from 2002, but back then Danny Boyle was in his prime and his narrative skills were unmatched. With his recent sequel "28 Years Later," the next generation deals with the aftermath of the viral outbreak that spawned a rampage of the undead. A gazillion zombie movies later, there is nothing to be wrung from such a tired tale. And Boyle's brand of boyhood magical realism has lost its charm. 

The British pop-auteur ("Millions," "Slumdog Millionaire," "Sunshine") re-teams with Alex Garland ("Ex Machina") from the original film, but very little works here as they unspool a drab, uninspired tale of a boy, Spike (Alfie Williams), venturing out on a vision quest from the walled-off safe zone that is England, across a land bridge to the European continent to hunt zombies with a bow-and-arrow. Would you believe that on his various missions he will narrowly escape death repeatedly so that he can eventually bring his mysteriously ailing mother (Jodie Comer) to the danger zone to seek a cure from a mad survivalist doctor? 

That doctor is played, improbably and to the hilt, by Ralph Fiennes, slathered in iodine (best to ward off any virus) and juggling a detente with the wild population. (He's no Col. Kurtz, and this is no "Apocalypse Now.") By that final third of the film, you probably will be exhausted by Boyle's cliched visual effects -- awe-inducing prismatic skies, amateurish camera tricks where the image freezes upon the impact of the arrow and rotates 90 degrees before resuming motion. The narrative is a string of idiot plots lazily stitched together. Whereas "Billions" or "Slumdog Millionaire" could make boyhood adventures seem enchanting, Spike's adventures here just seem silly and strained.

Maybe we're jaded in the modern era. But whatever charm or suspense that we experienced nearly a quarter century ago has evaporated with this unnecessary, limp sequel.  

BONUS TRACK

It's no "Lust for Life" from "Trainspotting," but Boyle gets good mileage out of "Lowly" by Young Fathers, which sets the table early on for "28 Years Later":

Time Out of Mind

 

NIRVANNA THE BAND THE SHOW THE MOVIE (A-minus) - Matt Johnson has a genius' knack for making smart, fun films. He has the look of a sloppy vaudevillian, the mind of Groucho Marx, and the director's eye of Hal Ashby.

 

I don't know much about Nirvanna the band, or Nirvanna the show, but this has been a long-running project between Johnson (above left) and collaborator Jay McCarrol who spent 2007 to 2009 creating a web series that chronicled fictional versions of themselves striving to play the Rivoli theater in Toronto. They incorporate footage from the original series (which they brought to television in 2017 and 2018) to create this clever slapstick time-travel romp that spans the past 18 years. 

The hook here is that the pair -- who remain down on their luck in the present day and still undiscovered -- develop a scheme to pose as time travelers from 2008 by rigging an RV to mimic the car from "Back to the Future" (whose footage is borrowed here in the name of satire). When the time-travel machine actually works (thanks to a plot device involving spilled Orbitz, a passing-fad drink from the 1990s), it is an opportunity, if all goes according to plan, to rewrite history and book that gig at the Rivoli in 2008 -- and ensure fame. Of course, all does not go according to plan. While in 2008, an unexpected rift between the two present-day pals (tiptoeing around their 2008 selves) triggers a butterfly-effect glitch in time/space, leading to an altered present day in which Jay went on to become famous and Matt hangs with a bunch of nerds in a Jay McCarrol tribute band.

The film starts with an elaborate stunt in which the pair plan to visit the deck of the CN Tower and parachute into Toronto's Sky Dome baseball stadium. It's not clear how much of this is staged, how much is real, or if doubles were used -- but the mockumentary effect is brilliant. The tower will play into a grand finale involving a crazed scheme to use a lightning strike to fuel the time machine. It's all quite complicated but enormously delightful. It all pretty much makes sense in its own controlled universe.

Like in Johnson's debut film "The Dirties," there is an "Office"-like meta touch of an unseen crew filming all of the antics, both in the present day and back in 2008. Johnson still gets a lot of mileage out of subtle glances at the camera, often trying to mask a deep-seated panic that he is determined to overcome. And like "The Dirties," this is a heartfelt buddy movie, a touching paean to enduring friendship. (The germ of an idea for the original web series started when the pair were high school besties.)

Matt is clearly the instigator of most of the mayhem. At times, Matt and Jay's interactions on the streets and in the businesses of Toronto seem like actual footage, with real people and folded into the narrative. Their TV show was known to break the fourth wall, and this melange of factual, fiction and metafictional somehow gels as a cohesive movie that absolutely nails the ending.

None of this happens without Johnson and his ability to synthesize disparate elements into a movie that somehow comes off as lame-brained and brilliant at the same time. (See also his retro take on a government film crew making a film that fabricates the 1969 moon landing, "Operation Avalanche.") Most recently, Johnson went back in time to score with "BlackBerry," which fictionalized the creation of the original PDA and precursor to Apple's iPhone.

So far, as a writer, director and performer, he can do no wrong. His joy of filmmaking pours off the screen, and this DIY inside joke is as entertaining as 100 minutes can get. 

New to the Queue

 Is the planet getting warmer or is just me?

A documentary finding humor in a cancer diagnosis, "Andre Is an Idiot."

A silly romp through wine country, "The Napa Boys."

An artsy documentary about life in Naples in the shadow of Mount Vesuvius, "Pompei: Life Below the Clouds."

Speaking of clouds, a profile of a cameraman who specializes in unique skydiving stunts, "Space Cowboy."

Now and Then: Tom Waits for Jarmusch

 

FATHER MOTHER SISTER BROTHER (B+) - There is something rather comforting in a Jim Jarmusch film. The leisurely pace. The assured direction. The sparse, off-kilter dialogue. The loops of echoing themes. And his respect for his audience's intelligence.

Here he unspools three stories about parents and children, in three disparate settings capturing the awkwardness of family relations. The cinematic connective tissue involves random repeated threads -- skateboarders, wristwatches, family photos, overhead shots of tables full of food and drink, toasts, color coordination of outfits (in the red family), horoscopes, car trips and sly variations on the British colloquialism "Bob's your uncle." The other common theme: Usually parents are depicted as out of touch and pitied by the younger generation; here, Jarmusch offers a Boomer's wink suggesting that his generation was and is the wiser, more well-adjusted and hippest of them all.

 

Adam Driver accepts the torch from Tom Waits as Jarmusch's off-kilter anti-hero, as they star together as father and son in the first short, with Mayim Bialik as Waits' daughter. The two offspring set the table for the whole movie with their disjointed and arm's-length conversation during the drive on the way up to their father's isolated lake house. It is clear early on that the father is exploiting his kids' generous nature and not letting on that he might be living a better life than his messy house suggests.

Waits is perfectly odd as the mumbling, fumbling father who just doesn't connect with his spectrum-y adult children, whether he is running down a list of drugs he's not taking or wielding an ax for no good reason. Driver, who starred in the director's "Paterson," can underplay a role with the best of them; I can't imagine anyone else in this specific role. And Bialik is the ultimate get-along sister/daughter. The actors have wonderful chemistry playing three relatives that have none. You almost wish it were its own standalone short film.

The third episode jumps a generation to a pair of 20-something twins visiting Paris to clear out the apartment of their parents, who have died in a plane crash. Skye (Indya Moore) and Billy (Luka Sabbat) have a playful banter and a fundamental connection, which is a refreshing contrast to the stilted relations on display in the first two episodes. Again, the lives of the parents -- excavated through photos, fake IDs and documents -- suggest a much more interesting narrative than the mundane plot we are watching, a clever sleight of hand.

 

Moore and Sabbat display the ease and dexterity of veteran actors, and it is fun to explore the side streets and interiors of Paris with this laid-back pair. They also are the most intellectually curious of all the film's characters. And we get a final subtle generational twist for the finale. 

The middle entry is the weakest. Charlotte Rampling portrays a best-selling novelist who must endure a traditional mother-daughter high tea with her two dysfunctional daughters. Cate Blanchett plays a straight-up nerd, and Vicky Krieps is the stereotypical aging punk-rock chick (at least Jarmusch's version of one). They live in Dublin, of all places, walking on eggshells around each other at the mom's fancy home. 

You can't ask for three more skilled actors, but they struggle to connect; their disparate accents don't help. There is no heft to the narrative, besides the disappointment a high-powered parent can barely conceal in her under-achieving children. Maybe the filmmaker just doesn't have an ear for this type of female interaction. It's fine but dwarfed by the impeccably curated tales that bookend it.

DOWN BY LAW (1986) (A-minus) - Jarmusch is at his '80s quirkiest, blessed with three unique actors who bond in this absurdist prison tale set in the unforgiving swamplands of Louisiana. 

John Lurie returns to the fold from "Stranger Than Paradise" to portray Jack, a somewhat dimwitted pimp who gets set up in an embarrassing police sting. Tom Waits, whose music career was humming along, is Zack, a hipster-doofus deejay who gets suckered into being a bagman, with disastrous results. They are eventually joined in prison by Roberto, a happy-go-lucky Italian who speaks fractured English and is played with broad comic joy by Roberto Benigni, in his American film debut (and his first of three films with the director). 

 

Benigni seems to embody all three Marx Brothers simultaneously as he steals the show from his sublimely deadpan co-stars. He constantly mixes up Zack and Jack (understandably), and he crafts charming fractured phrases from his notebook of English idioms. ("I am a good egg. ... We are a good egg.") Waits, especially, provides a deadpan backboard for the giddy offerings from the strange man they call Bob.

Time passes slowly but pleasantly in the jail cell. When they eventually make their way into the backwoods as fugitives, Jarmusch and cinematographer Robert Mueller let their lazy camera glide along the swamps with the stumbling escapees. Jarmusch's plot employs a satisfying switch at the end, alighting upon a lovely Italian restaurateur in the middle of nowhere (Nicoletta Braschi), who helps flip the hipster script.  

The filmmaker avoids the sophomore slump and sets the table for a rolling out of his patient, outre character studies and zen thought experiments that would play out over a four-decade career. 

BONUS TRACKS

Jarmusch shuns music in favor of an eerie stillness for most of "Father Mother Sister Brother," but then he picks a perfect daytime car ride in Paris to drop a needle on "Spooky" by Dusty Springfield:

 

 

Here is our latest attempt to rank the films of Jim Jarmusch, from most to least favorite:

• Stranger Than Paradise (1984)
• Dead Man (1995)
• Broken Flowers (2005)
• Down by Law (1986)
• The Only Lovers Left Alive (2014)
• Night on Earth (1991)
• Mystery Train (1989)
• Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai (1999) 
• Mother Father Sister Brother (2025)
• The Limits of Control (2009)
• Paterson (2016)
• Coffee and Cigarettes (2003)
• Permanent Vacation (student film, 1980)
• Gimme Danger (2017) 

Not seen: "The Dead Don't Die" (2019)

R.I.P., Rob Reiner, Part 2: King Me

 A pair of Stephen King adaptations. See our previous Reiner tribute (both iterations of "Spinal Tap") here.

STAND BY ME (1986) (B+) - Quaint, bordering on quirky, this Boomer nostalgia trip gets by on a naive charm and the performances of its four stars portraying a band of 12-year-olds on an overnight trek to hunt for the body of a co-hort who has gone missing. It is steeped in sepia but sharp enough at key moments to rise above the maudlin.

 

Wil Wheaton (above left) stars as Gordie, a sensitive boy who already has been tagged with the "writer" label, a neat cubbyhole that filmmakers love to exploit. The film is a flashback to 1959 narrated by the adult Gordie (Richard Dreyfuss). He relates the story of the Labor Day weekend excursion with three buddies to track down the dead body that older teens were afraid to report to police.

River Phoenix is the true revelation here as Chris, a tough-talking smoker whose older brother was one of the toughs who first saw the body (but were afraid to report it). Phoenix shows a depth unheard of for a young teen in only his second movie role. By comparison, Corey Feldman is a relative clown as goofy Teddy, who is haunted by his war-hero father's mental-health struggles. Jerry O'Connell is the main comic relief as Vern, the portly Curly of this bunch of little rascals. Their banter is amusing, and Reiner allows his writers (Raynold Gideon and Bruce Evans) to luxuriate in the ribald putdowns and slang of the late Eisenhower era (mostly at the level of juvenile dick references, skidmark jokes, and "two for flinching" bullying). It was a time when America not only still minted pennies, but those pennies could add up enough to feed four boys for a day or two.

Gordie is saddled with the shadow of his dead older jock brother (John Cusack in flashback flashbacks), and the little wimp must prove himself to his grittier buddies. That will come in a memorable showdown with the older gangsters (led by Kiefer Sutherland), who belatedly race the boys to the body by the lake in order to grab the expected media spotlight. I will forever quote the signature line, "Suck my fat one, you cheap dime-store hood."

There are some curious detours here. A scene in which the boys taunt a junkyard dog feels shoehorned in, and there is no payoff to a tall tale Gordie unspools about an obese kid at a pie-eating contest. But a race against a train across a river bridge has genuine tension. And the coming-of-age bonding among the boys -- amid the bittersweet late-summer brink of moving on to junior high -- feels genuine. And the wistful ending might catch in your throat.  

MISERY (1990) (B) - Kathy Bates is a revelation, and James Caan manages a strong performance despite being confined to a bed for most of the movie, a slow-burn thriller about an obsessed fan who kidnaps her favorite author after rescuing him from an auto accident in a blizzard.

Annie (Bates) is actually a nurse, if not one with up-to-date certifications. She is obviously deranged, truly a super fan (of a beloved series of novels that the author is desperate to move on from) but she is not necessarily looking out for the best interests of her captive, King stand-in Paul Sheldon (Caan), who has two broken legs and an arm in a sling. She dotes on her helpless patient but also locks him in his room. She lies about the blizzard closing the roads and downing phone lines, even as the days drag on, and soon this becomes a cat-and-mouse contest of wills and strength.

 

Comic relief comes from Richard Farnsworth ("The Straight Story") as the gruff sheriff and Frances Sternhagen as his helpful wife/deputy, who share a folksy DNA with characters from David Lynch's movies and the Coen brothers' releases to come, like "Fargo." Reiner juggles the two storylines ably; as to the suspense, he is no Hitchcock, but he also does a serviceable job of ratcheting up the tension across 107 efficient minutes. Reiner does struggle at times; an old-fashioned montage of Sheldon healing, as the days pass and he pounds out a new novel under orders from Annie, ain't exactly "Rocky" material. A famous scene involving a sledgehammer is not for the squeamish.

Bates, in her breakout role on the other side of age 40, carries the show here. She finds nuance in the stereotypical role of a mentally ill captor. Caan has been better elsewhere, in meatier roles, but he manages to do a lot of work through his eyes and facial expressions. Lauren Bacall shows up in a glorified cameo as Sheldon's literary agent, appearing at the beginning and end of the film. And bonus points for placing Liberace on the soundtrack; Annie is a big fan, yet another red flag regarding her overall mental state.

BONUS TRACK

Fifties oldies pepper the "Stand by Me" soundtrack, but the king (By Ben E. King) is the title track over the closing credits:

Library Cards

 

PARTY GIRL (1995) (B+) - Parker Posey has such appeal that I could watch her shelve books in a library, as she faithfully follows the Dewey Decimal system. And she proves that here.

Posey was a true indie darling in the mid-'90s, on the brink of a mainstream breakthrough (mainly in Christopher Guest's mockumentaries), when she took the lead role in this romp about a wild young adult turning to library work to settle down her life. Posey's line deliveries and physical presence -- as she flounces around in her trendy couture outfits -- are undeniably appealing. And this surprisingly clever film from writer-director Daisy von Scherler Mayer (in her feature debut) builds a story and characters to swirl around its star. 

 

Posey plays Mary, who ends up behind bars for hosting an illegal underground rave, and so she turns to her godmother, Judy (Sasha von Scherler, the filmmaker's mother), who gives her a job in Judy's library to rein in the wild young woman. It partly works. Mary at first is dismissive of the milieu, but she soon learns to appreciate the rigid functionality of the library system. But she still likes to party, pushing the career of DJ buddy Leo (Guillermo Diaz from TV's "Weeds" and "Scandal"), and fending off the advances of brutish bouncer Nigel (a young Liev Schreiber.  

Drawing her down to earth is a budding romance with falafel vendor Mustafa (Omar Townsend), a Lebanese immigrant who yearns to get back to a teaching career. Mary's frivolous ways have consequences on the moony Mustafa and others.

This is no lightweight tossed-off Clinton-era bubble-gum lark. Von Scherler Mayer shows serious chops with snappy one-liners. Smitten upon discovering "The Myth of Sisyphus," Mary intones earnestly, "I think I'm an existentialist. I do." (Leo's response to the story of Sisyphus' slog? "Draaag.") Judy constantly berates Mary as no better than Mary's mother who had "no common sense." Seeking to escape her spiraling situation, Mary seeks out "a nice, powerful, mind-altering substance -- preferably one that will make my unborn children grow gills."

"Party Girl" has spunk and spark. There is a depth to the depiction of Mary's existential crisis on the brink of her 24th birthday. And it launched three decades of Parker Posey delights. 

THE LIBRARIANS (C+) - There is something disturbingly lopsided about this earnest documentary that centers heroic librarians who have spent the decade battling right-wing censors seeking to ban books from school and public libraries. 

We get a boatload of cinematic melodrama as director Kim Snyder ("Welcome to Shelbyville") tracks the assault on libraries in the deep South unleashed by menacing politicians and and the Hitler-adjacent group of crackpots Moms for Liberty. We get very little actual analysis of the content that the right wants to censor, and there is no nuance about whether there is any substance beneath the shouting. Yes, the vast majority of complaints are baseless; but this film doesn't prove that.

The librarians come off as more than First Amendment heroes; they are deified as exalted martyrs, flawless in their convictions. Again, maybe that is mostly true; but why must every scene be so black and white? Snyder works hard to humanize the librarians, many of whom bravely put their careers on the line with their defiance. The Moms for Liberty are depicted as humorless scolds -- in particular one deranged mother who takes video at a library board meeting of one public speaker, who is the gay son she has banned from her household. She is unrepentantly nasty, bringing into sharp focus the brutality of the crusade against books like "Between the World and Me" and "The Color Purple." 

This is an unabashed polemic. But its extreme slant should make an objective viewer at least a little suspicious of its agenda. 

BONUS TRACKS

"Party Girl" has an extensive dance-club soundtrack. Here is L.U.P.O featuring Cathy with "Keep It Up":

 

Wolfgang Press deconstructs Randy Newman's "Mama Told Me Not to Come":

 

And a ska flavor to Dawn Penn's "You Don't Love Me":

New York Punks

 

BUNNY (B+) - The plot goes off the rails by the end, but at a compact 90 minutes this hectic day-in-the-life romp about apartment dwellers dealing with an unexpected dead body revels in its wild characters and is packed with laughs. 

Mo Stark plays the stringy-haired Bunny, a street hustler who is having a trying day. (The opening scene shows him sprinting through the city streets and then changing his clothes, so you know something has gone down.) Stark has the raw manic energy of Simon Rex in "Red Rocket," and he gives Bunny the patter of a recovering drug addict. The dead body that he's responsible for on the fifth-floor landing (it's a bad guy, so we don't feel bad) is ruining his birthday, cock-blocking the gift of a threesome his wife, Bobbie (Liza Colby), has arranged for him. The apartment building is crawling with crazy characters, including a Chinese woman who barely speaks English and a trio of young women planning their own party on the third floor. Bobbie's estranged father, Loren (Tony Drazen), has decided to drop in that day, and the residents get him high to alleviate the awkwardness of the father-daughter reunion.

 

The secret weapon here is Ben Jacobsen, who directed this rager, co-wrote it with Stark and one other, and steals the show as Dino, Bunny's best bud and fellow schemer. Sporting a platinum buzz-cut, he delivers some of the juiciest one-liners with a deadpan stoner delivery. This is Jacobsen's feature debut, and he shows a steady hand and a command of the urban chaos unspooling in the claustrophobic setting. The deep talent of the cast extends to a couple of New York's finest, two suitably incurious officers played wonderfully drolly by Ajay Naidu (Samir from "Office Space") and Liz Caribel Sierra.

As noted, the plot jumps the shark in the second half (another body turns up and gets stuffed into a suitcase), and plausibility is strained, but by then you are hooked, and the dash to the finish is clever enough and consistently funny. It's a crazy day in the big city, and the time flies by.

SMITHEREENS (1982) (B+) - Susan Seidelman ("Desperately Seeking Susan") splashed with this sharp character study of a runaway on New York's Lower East Side trying to scam her way through the waning punk scene of the day.

The low-budget DIY ethic has a meta tinge to it, as Seidelman's characters wink at the fact that by the early '80s, the punk/new-wave scene was dwindling in New York and migrating to Los Angeles. Susan Berman, with a mop of kinky hair, stars as Wren, a teenage escapee from New Jersey who is months behind on her rent while she stalks various bands in order to punch her ticket to the rock world (as a manager? a groupie?). She sports the style of the day, including a houndstooth vinyl miniskirt and matching checkered sunglasses that she swiped from a sap in the subway. She papers the neighborhood with fliers depicting her mimeographed image and the words "Who is this?"

 

Wren uses her wiles to try to seduce a pouty fading punk, Eric, played by Richard Hell of the real-life Heartbreakers and Voidoids. Pining for her is Paul (Brad Rijn), who has ventured from Montana in a beat-up van, which he lives in, in an empty lot, with a gaggle of prostitutes as his neighbors. Wren strings along the naive Paul (by this time she is evicted and needs a place to crash) while she pursues the philandering Eric, whom she sees as her ticket to the L.A. scene.  

Seidelman shoots guerrilla-style along the grimy streets of Manhattan, in grubby apartment units, and at the trendy Peppermint Lounge. She deftly captures the longing of a smart young woman eager to rush toward full womanhood.  The traditional love triangle gets a gruff '80s makeover, where no plot element succumbs to the traditional format. The cast is raw but effective. One sex worker (Katherine Riley) nearly steals the whole movie with the lethargic moves she puts on a reluctant Paul in the front seat of his van. The scene is an instant classic.

Will Wren hone her street smarts into a successful con game? Does she deserve to succeed? Seidelman, whose edge would dull by the end of the decade (see "She-Devil"), will keep you guessing till the end.

BONUS TRACKS

The Feelies provide the core of the "Smithereens" soundtrack with selections from their 1980 album "Crazy Rhythms." Here is "The Boy With the Perpetual Nervousness":

 

The Feelies' "Loveless Love" mimics the jangled psyche of Wren:

 

"Bunny" sports an eclectic retro soundtrack, culminating in "Give Me Daughters" from Jonathan Fire Eater, a post-punk revivalist band from the '90s that morphed into the Walkmen:

 

The Stalkers' "In Your Street Today" has a throwback garage energy that syncs well with "Bunny's" frenzy:

 

"Bunny" kicks off with a '70s flashback to Garland Jeffreys' FM anthem "Wild in the Streets":

The Altman Universe: Odd Woman Out

We figured it was time that we revisit the works of Robert Altman, something we somehow haven't done in the past 13 years. This is the start of an occasional series.

3 WOMEN (1977) (B+) - Two women -- Sissy Spacek and Shelley Duvall -- are at the peak of their quirkiness in this character study with a sci-fi psychological twist on sisterhood and motherhood. 

With a nod to Ingmar Bergman's "Persona," Robert Altman plays with the concept of shifting identities as he follows Spacek's naive Pinky as she joins the crew of a rehab spa in the California desert and latches on to a co-worker, Millie (Duvall), a self-absorbed and delusional motor mouth living a pathetic life. Pinky moves in with Millie at an apartment complex populated by young hipsters who mock Millie behind her back. The apartments are run by alcoholic former stunt double Edgar (Robert Fortier) and his mysterious pregnant artist wife Willie (Janice Rule).

 

Spacek is wide-eyed and creepy, as Pinky starts to "Single White Female" Millie, eventually seeking to take over Millie's outgoing personality. Duvall is off the wall as the clueless goofball prone to empty boasts. It might be her most memorable character and performance; she dives deep into Millie such that at times you get the sense that Altman just followed her wherever she went, without regard to the rest of the cast or the dictates of the script. Pinky is the only person clueless enough to take Millie seriously, despite the constant verbal abuse that Millie heaps on Pinky.

With a wink that might have informed David Lynch in future endeavors (like "Mulholland Drive"), Altman's second half toys with the timeline and shifts the perspectives of the characters. Millie's cheap affair with the boorish Edgar will scramble the stakes, culminating in a feminist outburst that unites the three women and rearranges their personas one more time. 

The harsh desert landscape and the echoes of an outdated Hollywood make for a haunting backdrop. And while the two stars talk past each other more than they interact, their bizarre bond propels the narrative, greased with the dry black humor that endures until the final visual punchline. 

A WEDDING (1978) (B+) - An ensemble cast of character actors slowly unwraps Altman's day-in-the-life chronicle that revolves around a snake-bit wedding and reception populated by bourgeois elitists, screw-ups and horny guests. What starts out slowly builds momentum, with the random gags and fleeting one-liners that add up to a satisfying whole.

 

Altman juggles perhaps his biggest cast of all and knits together a dizzying array of mini-plots. The nouveau riche  bride, Muffin (Amy Stryker), wears braces, and the old-money groom, Dino (Desi Arnaz Jr.), may have impregnated her sister, Buffy (Mia Farrow), though Buffy has been so popular with the boys that the source of the fetus is anybody's guest. The mother of the bride, Tulip (Carol Burnett), is getting hit on by the groom's uncle (Pat McCormick). And the matriarch of the groom's family (screen legend Lillian Gish) has passed away peacefully upstairs in her bed, though not everyone who visits her notices. There is a drunken doctor (Howard Duff), a harried wedding planner (Geraldine Chaplin), an overwhelmed lead security officer (John Considine, who shares screenwriting credits), a bumbling bishop (John Cromwell) and a coterie of pals from the military school Dino hails from (including Craig Richard Nelson). 

Illicit affairs occur in every corner of the mansion. A painting of the topless bride will be ceremoniously unveiled. When the bride and groom's exes show up, they each greet their old flames openly with passionate kisses. Burnett and McCormick provide the main comic relief as they fumble through the first stages of a potential affair. The quality of the cast is deep. Paul Dooley is the father of the bride, who is a little too close with daughter Buffy, the mostly mute maid of honor. Nina Van Pallant is radiant as the unhappy mother of the groom with a melancholy backstory. Dina Merrill exudes old-school class as her bossy sister. "Mork & Mindy's" Pam Dawber provides spunk as Dino's ex. A raft of young actors from the Chicago theater scene (mostly Steppenwolf and Second City) score roles as barely recognizable extras, including Joan Allen, George Wendt, Dennis Franz, Danny Breen, Laurie Metcalf, Gary Sinise and John Malkovich.

Some will find this meandering and underwhelming. It didn't click for me until the second hour. It's almost brilliant in its scattershot understatement. (Similar to how Roger Ebert appreciated the "insane logic" of Altman's "MASH.") Only Altman at the time could attract this level of disparate talent. He seems to be bursting with small ideas and having fun watching his players run around with them. 

BONUS TRACK

Let's take a shot at ranking from memory the Robert Altman films we've seen and watch how the list evolves as we re-view them and add more. (Boldface indicates recently added or re-viewed.)

  1.  Nashville

  2.  McCabe & Mrs. Miller

  3.  MASH

  4.  The Long Goodbye

  5.  The Player

  6.  Short Cuts 

  7.  3 Women

  8.  A Wedding

  9.  California Split 

 10. A Prairie Home Companion

 11. Gosford Park

Doc Watch: The Unraveling

 

BREAKDOWN: 1975 (B+) - As advertised, this Netflix documentary breaks down the year of 1975, mostly (but not exclusively) through the movies released during perhaps the greatest year of American film. To the strains of Donna Summer's disco purrs, we're told in the opening (by narrator Jodie Foster of "Taxi Driver") that America was experiencing a nervous breakdown, and it sure felt as if, as Gerald Ford put it, we were locked in a "long national nightmare" even after we drove Nixon out of office.

To quote Al Pacino's bank robber in "Dog Day Afternoon," as he negotiated with police after robbing a bank to fund an operation for his transsexual partner: "I'm dyin' here!"  Both unemployment and inflation hovered at 9 percent. America had just lost a war. We were a hot mess.

Morgan Neville ("20 Feet From Stardom," "Won't You Be My Neighbor") knows how to craft a compelling narrative, and here he immerses us in the good, the bad and the ugly from the depths of one of the grimmest decades in recent memory. (The 2020s sure are making a case to compete against that time a half century ago.) He has a lot of material to work with in 1975:  poor Gerald Ford cleaning up after the disgraced Nixon, trying to "whip inflation now"; the end of the Vietnam War; school busing; the  Church Committee unmasking the tyrannical sins of the federal government; the oil crisis; the feminism wars; the specter of Ronald Reagan (seen in a clip on the "Tonight Show" with his buddy Johnny Carson); the creeps from Est. America was faking patriotism and community for its upcoming Bicentennial. No wonder there was nostalgia for the '50s -- "Happy Days" challenged the present-day dolor of "All in the Family" on TV. A bolder future, too, could be glimpsed: Microsoft was founded in an Albuquerque garage in 1975.

Check out these titles of esteemed releases that year: "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest," "Nashville," "Shampoo," "Jaws," "Dog Day Afternoon," "Night Moves," "Smile," "Three Days of the Condor," "Mahogany," "Hester Street," "Barry Lyndon." December 1974 releases carrying over in theaters included "The Godfather: Part II" and "Young Frankenstein." Neville likes to make broader points through film clips. He twins the fall of Saigon with the scene from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" of the knight in defiant denial as his limbs get hacked off one by one. He pits the progressive Betty Ford against the robotic nostalgist Nancy Reagan via clips from "The Stepford Wives."  

There were the pulpy dystopian films: "Towering Inferno". "Rollerball," John Carpenter's "Assault on Precinct 13." (Coming in early 1976 would be "Taxi Driver" and "Bad News Bears.") Airier fare still had a bit of an edge: "The Sunshine Boys," "Cooley High" (Lawrence Hilton-Jacobs is a talking head), "The Rocky Horror Picture Show," "Tommy," "Love and Death." "Emmanuelle 2." Neville ties in TV clips, too, including the dark comedy "MASH" and the debut of "Saturday Night Live," represented here with the iconic word association sketch between Chevy Chase and Richard Pryor.

Observers include Albert Brooks (who made short films in the debut season of "SNL"), critic Frank Rich, comedian Patton Oswalt, Variety's Peter Bart, Joan Tewkesbury (who wrote "Nashville"), critic Wesley Morris, author Rick Perlstein, and Naomi Fry. Oswalt captures it all perfectly when he re-imagines selling his date on a night out at a movie featuring Jack Nicholson as a statutory rapist in an insane asylum. We get fascinating clips that revive the ugliness of the era, such as the 1975 Academy Awards show, where old-timers Frank Sinatra, Bob Hope and John Wayne defended the Old Boys Club vs. the American New Wave, represented by Dustin Hoffman.

Dial back the clock a half century if you dare. At least some of us can boast that we survived the shit-show.

SONG SUNG BLUE (2008) (B) - This documentary from 20 years ago is much darker than the recent fictional version (with the same title) of the story of Lightning and Thunder, the real-life couple whose Neil Diamond tribute act suffered from real-life setbacks.

Things are depressingly real for Mike Sardina and his wife, Claire, mostly in the health challenges they faced during the period of the documentary, from the mid-1990s to the mid-2000s. Greg Kohs (who got a screenwriting credit on Craig Brewer's highly entertaining holiday release) gets extensive intimate home-movie access to the Sardina's and their working-class home life.  

Sardina died in 2006 at age 55. and he and Claire battled obesity (his solution was to resume smoking to lose weight), in addition to her loss of a leg in a freak car crash on their front lawn. The true footage is much grimmer than the feel-good feature film, as you'd expect. Things go sideways by the 20-minute mark and the couple never really recovers (despite Mike dismissing their schneid as a mere "bump in the road"). The Midwest accents are authentic, but so is the dour day-to-day slog, the domestic tension of a blended family. "The Brady Bunch" this is not. Then there is Claire washing her stump in the tiny bathroom sink. Kate Hudson doesn't have quite the chops to pull off something that haunting.

Sardina gives monologues for the camera and parades around in his underwear, like Hugh Jackman does jovially, but his character arc does not fit the Hollywood model of a hero's journey toward redemption. It is painful to watch the pair perform to empty dingy clubs, or to a smattering of curious onlookers at the Wisconsin state fair. At the hour mark, Mike has a major heart attack, and the slow slide to his demise is baked in.

So, go ahead, chase your dreams. Enjoy them before the nightmares overwhelm them.

BONUS TRACKS 

Three representative songs from 1975, starting with Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, "Breakdown"

 

Heart, "Crazy on You": 

And the biggest-selling single of 1975: Captain & Tennille's "Love Will Keep Us Together" (penned by Neil Sedaka, another '50s nostalgia act):

 

And here is Lightning and Thunder onstage with Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam, having fun with Diamond's "Forever in Bluejeans":  

New to the Queue

 Fixing a hole where the rain came in ...

Our guy Matt Johnson ("Operation Avalanche," "BlackBerry") is back with another Canadian romp, "Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie."

A relationship comedy from Canadian Sook-Yin Lee, "Paying for It."

An Iraqi girl is chosen to bake a treat for Saddam Hussein in the debut feature "The President's Cake."

From Colombia, a tragi-comedy about a washed-up loser, "A Poet."

A documentary about the hit-making keyboard whiz, "Billy Preston: That's the Way God Planned It."

Holy Crap!* And Don't Call Me Shirley

 

It was with trepidation that I returned to the "Naked Gun" universe, which I first wallowed in when the Leslie Nielsen TV spoof "Police Squad" had an improbable, silly run of a mere six episodes on ABC in 1982.

 

The comedy was beyond sophomoric but the silly wordplay had a charm coming out of the mouth of Nielsen, who until then had been a journeyman serious actor. This was the brainchild of the Zucker brothers (Jerry and David) and Jim Abrahams, who started the mayhem with 1980s "Airplane!" (the source of our headline reference). Typical dialogue, after a female is apprehended, has the police captain ordering two officers to "take her away and book 'er." Then Nielsen's Frank Drebin introduces himself to the pair of officers: "Sgt. Takeraway. [Shakes hands.] Sgt. Booker." And scene. 

That's hilarious when you are a teenager with few defenses. Nielsen took the franchise to the big screen in three movies that suffered from debilitating diminishing returns. I'm pretty sure I saw only the first one -- "Nice beaver!" -- but had bailed out by the third, which was more than 30 years ago.

 

For no apparent reason, Andy Samberg's Lonely Island pal, Akiva Schaffer, and two co-writers dusted off the franchise and thought they could replicate it. Now starring Liam Neeson, as Frank Drebin Jr., the childish toilet humor falls flat on the screen. It is painful to watch. Hmm. Have I matured? Is this a shtick that just can't be replicated without Abrahams and the Zuckers? (Was it never funny? Nah, can't be.) There's actually an attempted joke in which a character confuses the word "manslaughter" with "man's laughter" -- whoa, Nelly, what a yuk! I got over that pun by fifth grade.

The execution is jaw-droppingly bad. It's not just the juvenile script that flops. Neeson is a dud playing against type as a would-be comedian. He is surrounded by painfully unfunny folks, like Pamela Anderson (standing in for Priscilla Presley and her stuffed beaver), Danny Houston and Paul Walter Hauser. Only Weird Al Yankovic manages a few laughs in an extended cameo (and the final word after the credits.) 

But every scene is a slog, and you can hear the jokes plummeting to the floor and landing like wet bags of sand. Or like turkeys dropped from a helicopter. There are 12 producers credited, including Seth MacFarlane, which might explain some of this mess. As well as the obsession with fart jokes and exploding diarrhea. Would you believe they trot out the ol' gag about scrolling through hours of lapel-camera video showing Drebin engaging in a parade of embarrassing activities? And they beat gags deep into the ground. Cops like coffee? Let's try 26 sight-gags about Drebin carrying or being handed a coffee cup. One visual involves Drebin being spied on as he hangs out with Anderson's femme fatale, and the first image is amusing -- but then the scene goes on for a full minute, repeating the same joke. Say what you will about Abraham-Zucker, but at least they had studied their Marx Brothers.

The violence is cartoonish but disturbing nonetheless; Drebin Jr. rips a man's arms off and then beats him with them. Har-dee-har. The plot is thin, even for something this ridiculous. I could go on, but ugh. It was pointless to bring this franchise back; it's just as pointless for me to go on.

GRADE for "The Naked Gun": D

* - Holy Crap is an occasional series about unique films, cutting a wide swath from brilliant to awful. Check out previous entries here.

The Best of 2025: It's Not Me, It's You

 

Generation X is in a millennial slump. 

There is no need for a grand essay this year, or a diatribe. As usual, you may jump down to the lists and you'll find dozens of movies to stream right now. But I do want to address Gen X's midlife malaise. So this year we are going to offer a sort-of anti-list upfront. 

As a Gen X elder (let's not debate this), I'm saddened to see so many filmmakers lose their mojo as they trail me into middle age. Some of my all-time favorite directors have lost me with their releases in recent years.  

I believe in chapters, and I learned early on that it's not easy to sync with an artist throughout their career. The three-album rule was invented for a reason, and feel free to apply it to filmmaking. I had my quarter-life crisis after college, realizing that some of my favorite bands just didn't thrill me anymore. Now, at the three-quarter mark, I find that it is a parade of filmmakers who leave me disappointed. (By the way, I have long since forgiven Joe Jackson.)

So let's elevate the annual "It's Not You, It's Me" category from below and highlight a list of 2025's offenders, who either outright offended or just fell short in some way:

• Noah Baumbach, age 56. ... His 2025: Back in the day he made a handful of brilliant movies; this time he excreted the maudlin "Jay Kelly" with his new pal George Clooney. Baumbach has made one good film in the past decade. ... His Heyday: "The Squid and the Whale" (2005) and "Frances Ha" (2013)
• Paul Thomas Anderson, 55. ... 2025: He once made a handful of brilliant movies, but he has grown as bloated as his budgets. The latest is his fetishism of fascism, "One Battle After Another," which follows the fun but lightweight "Licorice Pizza" (2021). ... Heyday: "Magnolia" (1999)
• Kelly Reichardt, 61. ... 2025: She was onto something with "The Mastermind," but a bland star (and a blaring soundtrack) under- and overwhelmed her thin plot. ... Heyday: "Certain Women" (2016)
• Wes Anderson, 56. ... 2025: We walked out of 2023's "Asteroid City." We made it through "The Phoenician Scheme," but barely. ... Heyday: "The Royal Tenenbaums" (2001)
• Chloe Zhao, 43 (cuspy). ... 2025: She somehow managed a decent final half hour of "Hamnet," but the first hour was nearly unwatchable. For some reason, I did not walk out. ... Heyday: "The Rider" (2018)
• Lynne Ramsay, 56. ... 2025: She produced something powerful and compelling at times with "Die My Love," but she tripped over some tropes and didn't earn the ending. ... Heyday: "Morvern Callar" (2002)
• Rian Johnson, 52. ... 2025: He ran the well dry with a weak third installment of his "Knives Out" series, "Wake Up Dead Man." ... Heyday: "Looper" (2013)
• (We pause, briefly, in honor of our onetime service to the country as a copy editor, for a discussion of commas. Is there an argument for leaving out the comma in "Wake Up Dead Man" and "Die My Love"? Doubt it. "Sorry, Baby.") 
• Yorgos Lanthimos, 52. ... 2025: He continues to botch scripts, this time muffing the last 20 minutes of "Bugonia." ... Heyday: "Alps" and "Dogtooth" (2010-12)
• Francois Ozon, 58. ... 2025: The man is in his own league, but even he is working in a minor key, with 2025's "When Fall Is Coming." ... Heyday: "Time to Leave" (2006) and too many others to list
• Jia Zhang-ke, 55. ... 2025: Even an all-time great could barely hold our interest in his career pastiche "Caught by the Tides." ... Heyday: "The World" (2006)

This doesn't take into account:

• The occasional Boomer -- Rob Reiner's soggy "Spinal Tap" sequel, or Nuri Bilge Ceylan's so-so "About Dry Grasses."
• Or the clouds forming on the horizon for a couple of Millennials: We've struggled twice so far to make a dent in 37-year-old Celine Song's "Materialists" (her "Past Lives" was No. 1 in 2023), and we gave up on "Pavements" from Alex Ross Perry, 41. (We preferred the Pavement doc "Louder Than You Think," about their crazy drummer/producer.) 
• Meantime, Walter Salles, 69, got back on his game with "I'm Still Here," and 73-year-old Boomer Jim Jarmusch is still steady-as-he-goes, maintaining his niche as the zen master, with his latest, "Father Mother Sister Brother."

OK. So I'm in a funk. The good news is that there are fresh voices out there; look below for movies from the likes of Eva Victor, Nina Conti, Isabella Roland, Rungano Nyoni, Michael Strassner, and more. The future remains promising, as the generations churn.

***

Below you'll find a ton of movies to sample, most from 2025, but some that hurtle you back decades (see "The Leftovers" below). Where possible I point out where you can stream them. My main go-to services are HBO, Mubi, Criterion, Netflix, and the library's free Hoopla (or Kanopy in your jurisdiction) or DVDs. Each film citation has a link to my original review.

THE TOP 15 of '25

(For the first five movies, I watched them more than once, confirming them as top picks.) 

  1. Blue Moon. Richard Linklater (a late Boomer with an X sensibility) directs a pitch-perfect Ethan Hawke in "this endlessly clever and charming tale of the bittersweet final days" of songwriter Lorenz Hart. Including Best Screenplay, in fact one of the best of all time. (In theaters; Netflix 2/14) 

  2. The Ballad of Wallis Island. "It is funny and full of heart; it's an earnest labor of love that tells a somber story without wallowing in any emotional muck." (Amazon Prime)

  3. Eephus. The best feature film about baseball ever made, with a tiny budget and a cast full of mostly non-actor ringers. (Mubi)

  4. Sorry, Baby. One of the many quiet indie gems on the list, often starring the writer-director (here Eva Victor), that stuck with us a long time. (HBO)

  5. One to One: John & Yoko. A meticulous, fascinating deep dive into the culture of New York City at the time an ex-Beatle showed up. (HBO)

  6. Sunlight. A buddy-movie road trip across New Mexico full of wit, heart and charm, led by stars Shenoah Allen and Nina Conti, who directed. (Rental on demand)

  7. Sentimental Value. Another mature, thoughtful character study from Joachim Trier (age 51). (In theaters)

  8. Diane Warren: Relentless. A documentary buoyed by the sheer force of the personality of its subject, a prolific MOR songwriter. (Hoopla/Kanopy)

  9. I'm Still Here. A tale of bravery and endurance from Walter Salles, whose exploration of Brazil's secret police will feel hauntingly relevant. (Netflix)

10. The Alabama Solution. A searing indictment of a state prison system, from the prolific Jarecki family. (HBO)

11. D(e)ad. Isabella Roland's family, working with a tiny budget, helped produce this clever comedy, one of the funniest movies of the year. (Rental on demand)

12. Song Sung Blue. When was the last time -- if ever -- you danced in the aisles in joy after a movie? The most fun at the theater in 2025. (Coming to Peacock)

13. Pee-wee as Himself. A filmmaker does a personal exploration of one of the most fascinating artists of the past 40 years. (HBO)

14. Listers. Microbudget DIY filmmaking at its finest; this documentary about birdwatching is the best movie most people never saw. (Free on YouTube)

15. Is This Thing On? Bradley Cooper wrings pathos and humor out of a disintegrating marriage, thanks to his star, Will Arnett. Including Best Director. (In theaters)

JUST MISSED THE LIST

(Honorables mentioned)

• The Baltimorons (AMC+)
• It Was Just an Accident
• Die My Love (Mubi)
• Friendship (HBO)
• Drowning Dry (Mubi)
• Father Mother Sister Brother (Theaters, then MUBI)
• Matt and Mara (Mubi) 

 

MORE TOP DOCS 

This was a particularly strong year for documentaries. Buckle up for a long list of releases, mostly in the B+ range. Many, too, Just Missed the List: 

 

• The music profiles: "Devo" explored in detail the origins of an art collective (Netflix); "Janis Ian: Breaking Silence" was intimate and revealing (PBS); "Becoming Led Zeppelin" gave the old boys their due (including drummer Jon Bonham through archival recordings) (Netflix); "Sunday Best" explored Ed Sullivan's commitment to civil rights on his variety show (Netflix); "Swamp Dogg Gets His Pool Painted" was a total hoot (rental on demand).
• Ben Stiller excavated his family history in "Stiller & Meara: Nothing Is Lost" (Apple TV)
• Raoul Peck powerloaded "George Orwell: 2 + 2 = 5" (rental on demand)
• A fascinating profile of Andy Kaufman, "Thank You Very Much" (rental on demand) 
• "Breakdown 1975" examined not just movies but our fraying culture during a pivotal year (Netflix) 
• "Secret Mall Apartment" had a great little-known story to unpack (Netflix)
• "The Perfect Neighbor" told a tragedy mainly through police body-cam footage (Netflix)
• I enjoyed getting to know comedian/podcaster Marc Maron in the gloomy documentary "Are We Good?" (rental on demand)
• Laura Poitras showed why she is one of the best, with her complicated profile of Seymour Hersh in "Cover-Up" (Netflix)  

 

TOP PERFORMANCES

• Songwriter Lorenz Hart in "Blue Moon" was the role Ethan Hawke was born to play, and no other performance came close this year. 
• Fernanda Torres was riveting throughout "I'm Still Here." 
• Susan Chardy was a well of guarded emotion in the disappointing culture study "On Becoming a Guinea Fowl" from Rungano Nyoni. 
• Jennifer Lawrence, fierce and feral in "Die My Love." Robert Pattinson and Sissy Spacek managed somehow to keep up with her.
• Tim Key walked a tightrope between comedy and drama in "The Ballad of Wallis Island," with an assist from Tom Basden and Carey Mulligan.
• No one can quite do what Renate Reinsve does every time, including this past year in "Sentimental Value."
• Hugh Jackman melted into his character, a Neil Diamond impersonator, in "Song Sung Blue."

 

GUILTY PLEASURES

• The Lost Weekend: A Love Story. The sweet story told by John Lennon's girlfriend in 1974, May Pang. (Amazon Prime)
• Splitsville. Another fun romp from filmmaking team Michael Angelo Covino and Kyle Marvin. ("The Climb") (Rental on demand)
• Dig (XX). An updated music doc that revisits the aughts "rivalry" between the Dandy Warhols and the Brian Jonestown Massacre. (Leaving Criterion) 
• The Merchants of Joy. A cheesy but effective profile of sellers of Christmas trees in New York City. (Amazon Prime)

 

THE LEFTOVERS

Some 2024 films we caught up with:  The powerful PBS documentary about workers organizing, "Union." ... The fascinating four-hour mystery saga, "Trenque Lauquen." ... We walked out of the Dylan biopic "A Complete Unknown," and instead went back in time to two classic documentaries about the man. ... The offbeat study of asexual adults, "Slow." ... Anne Hathaway was charming in the rom-com from Michael Showalter, "The Idea of You."

Wayback Machine: There were three of the all-time classics from the American New Wave: "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest," "Rosemary's Baby" and "Shampoo." ... We went back to the '80s to hang out with Spike Lee ("Do the Right Thing") and John Hughes and Molly Ringwald. ... We enjoyed Goldie Hawn in Steven Spielberg's "Sugarland Express." ... There were two Rolling Stones-related nuggets, "Performance" and "Gimme Shelter." ... We paid respects to Gene Hackman (R.I.P.) in "The Conversation" and Peter Sellers in "Being There." ... We dove deeper into the oeuvre of Joan Micklin Silver ("Between the Lines"), with "Crossing Delancy" and "Hester Street." ... Then there were the '70s hippie spectacles "Hair" and "Jesus Christ Superstar." ... Along with a documentary about Tura Satana, we screened the Russ Meyer B-movie classic "Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!" ... And, of course, we sampled liberally from Guild Cinema's annual summer film noir series (here and here).

R.I.P: We paid tribute to David Lynch and Robert Redford. We still have one more Lynch entry to go. ... We owe a tribute to Diane Keaton. ... We sampled "Spinal Tap," then and now, in memory of Rob Reiner, and we have a follow-up to that due in a few weeks. 

 

IT'S NOT YOU, IT'S ME

(Well, maybe this time it is you. 

Some of our favorites let us down.)

 

• (See above)

COMING ATTRACTIONS

Here are a bunch we wanted to see but didn't get the chance:

• The Secret Agent
• The Ice Tower
• Bob Trevino
• Sirat
• Miroirs 3

Join us in 2026 as we track down those titles and more of the finest movies you wouldn't otherwise think of watching.

Marriage Counseling, Part 2: Guy Walks Into a Bar

 

IS THIS THING ON? (B+) - There were times while watching Bradley Cooper's bracing portrait of a failing marriage when I thought, "This is as brilliant as a movie gets." But every so often a plot glitch took me out of the zone, and by the time the credits rolled, it was clear that his ending was undeserved.

But Cooper and his star, Will Arnett, lay it all out there as Arnett's Alex spills his guts, initially onstage as an accidental open-mic standup comic and later in his battles with wife Tess (Laura Dern) and others, in a well-packed ensemble comic drama. The secret weapon is actually Cooper himself, who steals the show as Balls, Alex's space-cadet actor buddy; the screen gets a jolt every time Cooper (almost unrecognizable at first in beard and glasses) bursts into a scene. 

 

Balls and his wife, Christine (R&B singer Andra Day, very strong), join a gay couple as a Greek-chorus counterpart to the dysfunction of Alex and Tess, a former volleyball standout who is feeling rudderless as a soccer mom and who is being called back to the sports world as a potential Olympics coach. It is not easy to waste the talents of Laura Dern, but here she is unconvincing in an underwritten role. She just doesn't scan as a star athlete, and her ex-jock angst comes out of left field. (Pushing 60, she seems miscast as a mom of 10-year-olds, and she is way past her prime to be bemoaning her glory days on the court.)

Cooper does create an authentic world, one teeming with genuine relationships, whether it's the three couples who gather at a vacation retreat at the beginning of the film and again a year later at the end, or Alex and Tess with their sons, or Alex falling into bed with a fellow comedian during his break from Tess. Cooper, in fact, shows a keen appreciation for the open-mic standup scene. He casts real comics, including Amy Sedaris as the mother hen of the group and Jordan Jensen as the love interest. But his choice of former quarterback Peyton Manning as a potential distraction for Tess comes off as gimmicky. There also is one of those huge movie coincidences late in the film that provides a shaky fulcrum for the final reel and eventual resolution.

Cooper so far has had mixed results in helming Big Projects; compare "A Star Is Born" with "Maestro." It helps here that he cedes the lead role to Arnett, who exudes a raw authenticity and proves that he has the chops beyond clowning on smart TV shows like "Arrested Development" and "Bojack Horseman." The close-ups are intense throughout; Arnett's face often fills the entire screen, such that you can start to count his whiskers. 

Cooper is probably revered as an "actor's director," and the cast here brings a boatload of talent to the workshopped scenes. He makes good use of Christine Ebersole and Ciaran Hinds as Alex's parents, and he has an understated Sean Hayes on hand, as part of the third friend couple, to provide a bit of a conscience for Alex. Everyone gets an A for group effort.

As noted above, this had the potential to be the best movie of the year. Maybe with a younger filmmaker I'd be more forgiving and grade on a curve. But a more indie filmmaker also might have had the courage to really take the gloves off and present a disintegrating marriage as a true shit-show, rather than this mainstream feel-bad romance. Perhaps a woman might have dug deeper with Dern into Tess' angst. All told, I have a hunch that, despite the flaws on display here, a second viewing might deepen my appreciation for what this team pulls off, in the end.

Marriage Counseling, Part 1: We Need to Talk About J-Law

 

DIE MY LOVE (B+) - The feral director Lynne Ramsay recruits a star to match her ferocity, as she unleashes Jennifer Lawrence onto the screen as a writer and unfulfilled wife who gradually descends into an apparent psychosis.

 

Lawrence dives deep into the role of Grace, who is dragged to rural Montana by her layabout husband, Jackson (Robert Pattinson), to inhabit an old house willed by Jackson's uncle, just down the road from her mother-in-law. Soon they are joined by an adorable baby, which can't quash Grace's carnal cravings, which Jackson mostly ignores. Grace is also nagged by Jackson and others who wonder why she has not returned to writing. The husband disappears on work trips, leaving her feeling abandoned (but apparently not trapped with the baby) and bored (and perhaps imagining infidelities), and when he is around, he does stupid things like adopt a loud, annoying dog for Grace to have to clean up after.

Ramsay, working with two writers to adapt a book by Ariana Harwicz, presents this as more than a case of post-partum depression. Grace's woes are nuanced and complicated, and perhaps they cannot be explained at all. Several scenes show her on hands and knees, slinking like a panther. More than once she hinges at the hips and flops over in half, like a rag doll (or a fentanyl addict). She claws at the wallpaper in the claustrophobic shack. Lawrence's blank face speaks volumes in a simple shot of Grace letting her forehead fall against a glass door. At times Grace wields weapons -- a butcher's knife, a shotgun -- but she is not a danger to those around her; she's a conundrum.

We see flashbacks of Grace trying to communicate with Jackson's senile father (Nick Nolte) and back in the present day failing to click with Jackson's mother, Pam (a compelling Sissy Spacek, reminding us that she invented this genre). There is just no one on her wavelength -- not even her readers -- unless you count a mystery motorcyclist (Lakeith Stanfield) who could just be a figment of her imagination, out there in nowheresville.

Ramsay is known for her gritty character studies, like Tilda Swinton coming to grips with a psychopathic son in "We Need to Talk About Kevin," or her masterpiece about a young woman (Samantha Morton) who thinks nothing of stealing her dead partner's novel in "Morvern Callar." But she also be off-key, like with the intense "You Were Never Really Here" from 2017. With "Die My Love" (only her fifth feature), she brings out amazing interplay between Lawrence and Pattison, some of it certainly improvised. They are the kind of performances that haunt actors for months or years afterward. But Ramsay also trips a few Stephen King tropes by wallowing in the psychosis of an anti-hero with writer's block or just a plain old crazy chick in a stylized horror movie.

The film struggles to pin down a raison d'etre, even if it is compelling visually and propelled by an eclectic soundtrack. (The couple has a turntable and a fun album collection.) Maybe it worked better as a novel, but across two hours on screen it can feel jumbled. (The flashbacks can be confusing.) The film begins and ends with an inferno, and in between Lawrence burns like an out-of-control wildfire. Yet there were plenty of times when Grace came across as the rational one surrounded by soulless zombies. Few can match the passion and intensity of the filmmaker and star, but were Ramsay and Lawrence even on the same page about the story they were trying to tell and the point they were trying to make? 

BONUS TRACKS

The soundtrack is wide-ranging and worth the price of admission itself. Ramsay wrote some songs with George Vjestica and Raife Burchell, and sings here on "Fire," which opens the movie:

 

The film is also bookended by renditions of "In Spite of Ourselves" by John Prine and Iris Dement:

 

There's David Bowie's "Hunky Dory" deep cut "Kooks":

 

And finally, some groovy '60s hip-swinging, "Paladium (The Hip)" by Liz Brady: