I don’t mind mixing science and the metaphysical, but I do need some credibility under it all to hold the story and message together. High Life misses on almost all counts. The crux of the tale is, frankly, absurd and such a bad science fiction premise that I had to force myself to continue with the story. In addition, the emotional and metaphysical aspects of the story are, at turns, trite and, at turns, so self-referential as to be completely obfuscated.
Director and co-writer Claire Denis (Let the Sunshine In ) is no stranger to mixing narrative with metaphor. Perhaps there was a bigger point here she was trying to make, but it missed me almost entirely. Certainly there is commentary on love, sex, parenthood, and redemption. But there isn’t a clear through-line that knits it together into a whole. We end up with something more like Dark Star meets Sunshine, but with all the negatives of both and few of the positives of either.
Honestly, I can’t recommend this, even with Robert Pattinson’s (Maps to the Stars) subtle performance and Juliette Binoche’s (Summer Hours) rather frentic, untethered one. There are definitely better ways to spend a couple hours of your life than trying to pick apart this confused, philosophical mess.
I so wanted to like this more. I kept trying. There is sense of something buried deeply in its recursive, meta, Sophomoric view of life. Unfortunately, I never quite found it…and the final denouement “Part 2 coming soon” after the credits made me shrink in horror rather than anticipation.
Despite that reaction, I was drawn through the story, though I think that was mostly on a misinformed idea that there would be a pay off. That said, it has Tilda Swinton (Suspiria) in, literally, a matronly role to her real-life and screen daughter Honor Swinton Byrne. The two work well together but Byrne’s character life is hampered by the telling of the story. We don’t really see her changes, we must mostly infer them. But we also never really understand her attraction to Tom Burke (Strike), who does a likewise solid job with what he has to work with. While we don’t have to agree with a character’s choice, we do have to understand it.
Writer/director Joanna Hogg certainly has a track record, as does this movie, with awards or nominations for every one of her feature projects. But I don’t understand the enthusiasm around this offering. It may have been created with skill, but that didn’t translate into a good movie. At least it didn’t for me.
For the title alone, I had to check out this silly satire, and clear vanity project, by David Harbour (Hellboy, Stranger Things) on Netflix.
The short film is full of nods and winks to the History Channel, Dark Shadows, and Documentary Now among other shows. It also takes many hilarious slams at the acting craft generally. Against this background Harbour explores his family’s fictional past in search of… well, that would be the problem overall. We never really understand why he’s doing this, what “questions” he has to answer. And, in the end, we don’t know what he’s discovered or embraced. Perhaps the open ended aspect was part of the satire, but it left me as a viewer wondering why I’d spent the half hour.
Given director Daniel Gray Longino’s background with Portlandia, and both he and writer John Levenstein’s involvement with The Kroll Show, the sensibility of this 30 minute distraction shouldn’t be a surprise. Mainly, it’s just disappointing, or was for me. But at 30 minutes, it isn’t a huge chunk of your life to lose for some funny moments. Just don’t expect it to hold together or pay off in a great way and you’ll be fine.
Cute idea. Childish execution. Tina Gordon directed this movie as a Disney Channel special rather than as a feature release. The style and script, with co-writer Tina Oliver (Girl’s Trip), is very much a child’s view of the world rather than an adult learning about how to view the world as a child again.
It doesn’t help that Regina Hall’s (The Hate U Give) performance is so broad at the beginning at that I almost turned off the flick in frustration. There was no way this person would have still had a company with her behavior. This means that the movie started at a massive deficit…and I could never quite suspend disbelief because it was so obviously wrong. Issa Rae (Insecure) and Marsai Martin (Black-ish) help pull the movie back toward center, but never manage to make up for the the rest of the weaknesses even with their efforts.
People have been trying to recapture the magic that was Big for decades. The sentiment never really goes out of style, but while the general story is what people remember (even with the reversal), the filmmakers forgot that it was the chemistry of that film that really made it a classic. And no one in this cast matches Hanks’ vulnerability and charisma.
Have you ever watched a film and thought: this would make a great play? Golden Exits definitely struck me as better suited to the stage than screen. It is full of long, introspective monologues that attempt to be-ever-so-insightful-and-clever about the world, but really just come across as pompous on screen. Director Alex Ross Perry guided his actors well, but his script for them was just ponderous and over-written for film.
Honestly, I knew little of the story going in. I checked this movie out for the cast, which had Emily Browning (God Help the Girl), Mary- Louise Parker (RED), and Chloë Sevigny (Lizzie) in major roles. In addition, Analeigh Tipton (Warm Bodies) and Lily Rabe (Pawn Sacrifice) add to the female pack. Each of these women had challenging paths to explore, even if the script rarely let them go very far with it. Mixed into their various struggles were Adam Horovitz (While We’re Young) and Jason Schwartzman (Big Eyes) who succeed and fail variously as partners and friends to those around them.
But there just isn’t anyone who is very sympathetic in this story. Some manage to do the right thing…eventually. But, primarily, they all muse about either doing the wrong thing or anything, as long as it’s different from what they’re doing now. The story is, essentially, how they manage to leave what they’ve got behind them, or at least start to. Basically, it is a very unsatisfying film with actors struggling to make mountains of text feel natural…or at least interesting enough that we don’t care that it is completely unnatural. Despite the cast and the game attempt, save yourself some time and find something else to take you on a journey of self-discovery.
Juliette Binoche (Summer Hours) is always worth seeing, but it helps if she has a good story to work with. The problems with this movie begin with the miss-translation of the title (which is closer to: The Beautiful Light Within). That more-direct translation makes slightly more sense than the published choice, though in an ironic way. The movie is really a dark (French) comedy rather than a hopeful journey of a middle-aged woman looking for love and connection; a sort of anti-Gloria.
Claire Denis directs Binoche through a constantly shifting emotional landscape very naturally. But her co-written script just never comes together. In fact, as untethered as it is through its episodic view of Binoche’s life, it manages to go completely into the woods during the final credits.
I can’t honestly recommend the film. I didn’t find it all that funny or even all that dark. It is just sort of sad and frustrating. And, ultimately, I felt I was cheated of my time. So either I really missed the point, or this movie did. Given the talent involved, I’m open to either reality. You, however, will have to decide for yourself.
It is a sad irony that this sequel is going to make more than the others in the series, despite being the weakest entry. Parabellum is a hollow shell that has a few good moments, but generally just a lot of disconnected fights and very little to recommend it.
The fights, the unmitigated and unadorned violence of Wick, had a sick kind of glee in the first two films. They felt, well, justified or at least unavoidable. You could revel in them and not feel too guilty. In this installment they feel choreographed. None of the characters are people and none seem to feel any risk. Returning director Chad Stahelski (John Wick, John Wick 2) even heightens this aspect with a ballet theme that even comes back in the credits…it is all choreography. But it leaves the fights flat; you can almost see them counting at times. It had little of the organic mayhem of the first two films, which got to absurd levels, but in more believable ways.
The brief, shining moments of this movie are really Halle Berry’s (Kingsman: The Golden Circle). Her sequence has a story and fights you can invest in. Until she joined the story, about a half hour in or so, I was really checking out of the movie. And after she exits it, even with the addition of Mark Dacascos, it never really comes back together. Dacascos gets to let loose, but not really act (they tried, it didn’t work).
The first two films, while thin on story had a through line. This third is simply about survival and greed. People getting punished for obscure reasons and people simply killing to kill. I get that it’s partially the rules of the world Derek Kolstad created, but that doesn’t make it interesting without some emotion attached. And Wick just has no real emotion. In fact, his one emotional moment makes utterly no sense at all and is contradictory to the man we’ve gotten to know.
It doesn’t help that Keanu Reeves (47 Ronin) is completely outclassed in acting by everyone around him. It is almost painful to watch him speak Russian to Anjelica Huston (Isle of Dogs), who has a flawless accent. Or try to match the chops or gravitas of Jerome Flynn (Loving Vincent), Lance Reddick (Bosch), Laurence Fishburne (Ant-Man and the Wasp), or Ian McShane (Hellboy) as well. The wooden Keanu worked fine in the first two films because there was a seething ocean of emotion underneath it. This time, his only discernible motivation is about making it to the next, more inventive fight. And the fights are inventive. But that isn’t enough to hang two hours on.
Short version: if you must see this, see it, but it isn’t as good as either of the first films. And worse, it doesn’t wrap it up, it simply delays the ending of Wick’s story yet another film. I’m not sure I’m going back after this one. There just isn’t anywhere interesting to go.
Stargate was a fun and long-running show. Even its spin-offs managed to be entertaining, if not long-lasting. They never quite found the chemistry of the first show again, try as they might. So, when it ended, there was a sense of relief (much like when Enterprise finally died).
But studios are loathe to give up properties they think they can milk, and so Origins was born as a way to sell one of the first digital streaming services. This movie is a compilation of the that one-season attempt of 10-ish minute episodes. It is…well, not very good.
The story picks up a well known storyline from the original series and movie, and shoe-horns in a tale that, by the skin of their teeth and with obvious tricks, manages not to entirely blow up canon. But the acting is cardboard at best. The story is forced and retreads a lot of different aspects of the shows that came before. It is far from satisfying on its own, and leaves little sense of how they could build on the story. Especially true given how many of the holes have already been filled through our time-travelling and flashback buddies over the years in the previous series.
What is clear is that the brains and abilities that provided over a decade and three series of shows were nowhere to be seen. The look is similar and the background established, but the talent is a gaping void. In other words, the only reason to torture yourself with this movie is a sense of complete-ism. Expect to grit your teeth a lot and to feel you haven’t learned much of anything new or, for that matter, of value to the original series.
I made every effort to go into this remake with an open mind. But, I admit, it wasn’t easy. I happen to love Guillermo Del Toro’s work, whether it is fantastical love stories like Shape of Water, Keiju madness like Pacific Rim, Gothic horror like Crimson Peak, or the comic book, wry insanity of Hellboy. In other words, this reboot had a long row to hoe for me…especially as we never (and will likely never) get the completion of Del Toro’s trilogy of the character. Add to this that Ron Perlman made Hellboy his so completely that David Harbour (Stranger Things) was at a double disadvantage.
To be honest, Harbour does fine as a younger version of Perlman’s Hellboy…except that isn’t the story that is being told. The root of the story isn’t horrible, however ham-handedly constructed. But for some insane reason Andrew Cosby (Eureka), rather than write a prequel or some kind of sequel, decided to rehash and rewrite the origin story Del Toro had already put on screen. That alone ate up about 20 minutes or more of the screen time. And the structure of the movie is weak as well. Cosby’s lack of skill had him telling huge chunks of the story in flashback because he couldn’t find a way to put the information into the current time frame of the movie. Flashbacks are useful tools, but they are also the fallback for a lazy writer. Director Neil Marshall (Doomsday) does what he can with the junk tale, but is as much at fault for accepting the script in the first place.
But flashbacks are only part of the problem. The movie has no heart and no real relationships. It has fight scenes and blood. Allowing or assuming that action can replace character work is a huge error. Del Toro’s movies had plenty of action (though a LOT less gore) but were very much about the people. This story gives us no connection, no purchase, and very little appreciation of the relationships.
So, in short, skip this. It doesn’t deserve your time. Go back to the original or even just the comics. Frankly, there are just better ways to spend a couple hours, despite any earnest attempts by the cast to spin gold from moldy flax.
While known for his acting, writer/director Brady Corbet comes at this movie with only one other feature under his belt. He attempts to employ some interesting story-telling techinques, with Willem DaFoe (At Eternity’s Gate) as the narrator to a faux documentary, but the story never really gels. Corbet, frankly, tackles too much, trying to create something like an updated Breaking Glass crossed with Rudderless. We do get a lot of realistic behind-the-scenes look at music, which helps set this sort of fantasy and commentary apart.
Ultimately, the only thing that saves this movie is the performances and a bit of the production value. Natalie Portman (Annihilation) as a hard-living, nasty-talking star is a magnetic trainwreck thanks to the underlying emotions with which she infuses her character. Raffey Cassidy (The Killing of a Sacred Deer) in two roles (which was an odd and un-utilized choice) holds her own nicely alongside Stacy Martin’s (Nymphomaniac) older sister/aunt. And Jude Law (Captain Marvel) as the sort of genuine, slightly corrupt producer is interesting, but without much depth.
Ultimately, there just isn’t a story here. It is more of an imagining about what is behind big production pop tours, both in the current time and what led to it. But the layering of the narration attempts to push it into something else, something grander, and on that level it simply fails, leaving you hanging at the end with no understanding of why you invested your time to watch it. At least in my opinion.
Art, writing, life explained… or at least commented upon…