Conclave

Director: Edward Berger
Starring: Ralph Fiennes, Stanley Tucci, John Lithgow, Sergio Castellitto, Isabella Rossellini, Lucian Msamati, Carlos Diehz, Brían F. O'Byrne, Merab Ninidze, Balkissa Maiga
Running Time: 120 min.
Rating: PG

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)     

Adapted from Robert Harris' 2016 novel, Conclave centers around an election that somehow feels both very real and fictitious all at once. When a pope passes away an organized conclave of Cardinals do convene to vote on a successor, but director Edward Berger's heightened interpretation of events benefits from the process having never really been examined or dramatized on film before. That results in an eye opening watch for anyone curious about what such an event could entail, even under these craziest of circumstances.

The cerebral thriller is as much a reflection of the current political climate as the inner workings of the Roman Catholic Church, with Berger's methodical setup giving way to an intelligently made adult drama that gathers momentum with each plot turn. The results are gripping, as an uncomplicated endeavor gets muddled by lies and corruption, threatening to further tarnish the institution's already shaky reputation.

When Pope Gregory XVII dies of a heart attack, Cardinal-Dean Thomas Lawrence (Ralph Fiennes) gathers his colleagues in seclusion for a papal conclave to elect the new pontiff. Candidates include the very liberal Aldo Bellini (Stanley Tucci) from the United States, Nigeria's Joshua Adeyemi (Lucian Msamati), conservative Canadian Joseph Tremblay (John Lithgow), and far right leaning Italian traditionalist Goffredo Tedesco (Sergio Castellitto). But when Lawrence is informed of an incriminating meeting that took place between Tremblay and the late pope directly before his death, the election is thrown into disarray.

As ballots are counted, more revelations surface, including a tryst from Adeyemi's past that rattles a concerned Sister Agnes (Isabella Rossellini) and the last-minute arrival of  secretly appointed Archbishop of Kabul, Vincent Benitez (Carlos Diehz). Presiding over numerous rounds of voting but expressing little interest in holding the position himself, Lawrence doubts the other candidates can capably fill it, knowing only that someone will have to.

With all the power and responsibility being pope brings, it only makes sense certain nominees wouldn't want it, lie about not wanting it, or stop at nothing to ensure they're elected. If not for the fact he's a good man, our protagonist would probably rather cover his ears, shielding himself and others from all these alleged misdeeds. Instead, he investigates each allegation as if the Church's future depended on it. And that's largely because it does. 

To say Lawrence suffers a crisis of faith isn't accurate since he hasn't lost belief in the Church so much as a process itself that constantly forces him to choose between the lesser of multiple evils. Then again, he also realizes his colleagues are human, prone to the same errors in moral judgment as anyone. This only makes coming to a just, favorable outcome that much harder, especially considering the number of skeletons top candidates are hiding in their closets.

Set to resign only hours earlier, it's clear why the deceased pope needed Lawrence to stay on, recognizing in him the qualities necessary to lead this College of Cardinals through difficult stretches like this. But it's also easy to see how Lawrence has no interest in an admittedly thankless position he feels unsuited for. Ironically, that stance only solidifies his worthiness, doing what few can by putting the Church's needs ahead of personal ambition. 

Waging war with his own conscience as a string of damaging details emerge, Fiennes transfixes as Lawrence, internalizing the stress and anguish as this election drags on. But he doesn't waiver, thoroughly deliberating each move with the knowledge there's only one chance to get it right. As the Cardinals split into opposing voting blocks, Bellini becomes Lawrence's trusted sounding board, with Tucci incredibly effective as a confidante who won't hold back, helping Lawrence wade through the deception. 

The other Cardinals sneakily whisper and conspire, while Lithgow steals scenes as the stubbornly ambitious Tremblay, who may or may not be pulling strings to ensure himself victory. Rossellini's role is small, but impactful, letting Sister Agnes' views be known with looks of disapproval and disdain before speaking out, whether the men want to hear it or not. It's to Lawrence's credit that he doesn't necessarily want input from everyone, yet remains open minded enough to listen just the same.

In the third act, another sane, rational voice speaks up at just the right moment, cutting through conflicting ideologies to remind these Cardinals of the bigger problems raging just outside their walls. It's only when we think it's all finally figured out that the big twist arrives, coming out of left field, but tying into the film's central thematic conflict between tradition and progress. The perfect candidate never existed and won't, so it's almost fitting that amidst all the dissension an enormous detail would slip under the radar, causing Lawrence to stumble headfirst into a change no one imagined.

The question of whether it's acceptable to elect the least compromised among an assembly line of flawed, dishonest candidates becomes the foundation on which the story's built. Bringing a refined precision to the proceedings, Berger and screenwriter Peter Straughan craft the rare prestige film that could play in any era, but still seems specifically suited to now. Carefully constructed and featuring powerful performances from a formidable cast, it squeezes a surprising amount of suspense from a scenario few expected to induce such excitement.             

Smile 2

Director: Parker Finn
Starring: Naomi Scott, Rosemarie DeWitt, Lukas Gage, Miles Gutierrez-Riley, Peter Jacobson, Ray Nicholson, Dylan Gelula, Raúl Castillo, Kyle Gallner
Running Time: 127 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

At the very least, Smile 2 deserves credit for not taking the predictable route in sequeling 2022's sleeper horror hit. And even while going through the paces required in continuing its concept, writer/director Parker Finn still crafts an ambitious follow-up uninterested in rehashing familiar ground. That the same filmmaker is attached comes as a surprise since this is a far slower burn, more absorbed in exploring the psychological ramifications of its premise. But maybe the bigger question is how an admittedly tremendous lead performance would be received if this wasn't a horror sequel, or at least not marketed as one.

Playing a major celebrity pushed into the public eye like a money making wind-up doll as she battles addiction and PTSD, Charlie's Angels and Aladdin actress Naomi Scott is the reason to see this. In humanizing a singer who should seem out of reach to even her most obsessed fans, the character's fractured psyche becomes a disturbingly uncomfortable place to reside, with Finn visually and narratively upping his game with this entry. There's still this feeling that if the first film didn't exist and certain supernatural tropes were discarded, it might play better, but not by much. Once we get past its wild and messy third act, even the prospect of a third installment suddenly doesn't seem like such a bad idea.

Six days after being infected by the Smile curse by a now deceased Rose Cotter (Sosie Bacon), police officer Joel (Kyle Gallner) frantically tries to pass it on, targeting a lowlife criminal. But when drug dealer Lewis Fregoli (Lukas Gage) unexpectedly bares witness to the murder, he's infected with the Entity before getting a visit from pop star Skye Riley (Scott). In search of Vicodin for lingering pain caused by a car crash that killed her actor boyfriend Paul Hudson (Ray Nicholson, channeling his dad's iconic grin), she finds a violently uncontrollable Lewis, from whom she contracts the parasite.

Skye's infected just as she embarks on a comeback tour orchestrated by her controlling manager mom Elizabeth (Rosemarie DeWitt). Struggling to stay sober after a very public battle with substance abuse, her mental health further spirals as she's plagued by nightmarish visions, sinisterly smiling strangers and an inability to distinguish dreams from reality. With only estranged friend Gemma (Dylan Gelula) to rely on, Skye's running out of time, until a mysterious man contacts her claiming he has a plan to stop the curse. The problem is whether she can survive it. 

After a gripping opening that picks up directly where the last film left off and shares some stylistic similarities with this year's Longlegs, we're immersed in Skye's troubled world, which is about to be turned upside down. But not before the first entry's central premise of passing the curse is reinforced with devastating results. That she's at her dealer's apartment is bad enough, but what she catches there is worse, especially since her mental stability is shaky enough that those closest to her can easily write these scary symptoms off as another relapse. 

Still harboring guilt over her boyfriend's death and coming off surgery and a stint in rehab, Skye's run into the ground by domineering, money hungry mom Elizabeth, who refuses to cancel the tour regardless of the harm it's causing. In early scenes, we see the mental and physical toll this takes on Skye as she soldiers through the pain during rehearsal, constantly guzzling bottles of Voss water to calm her nerves. It barely works, especially when creepy looking fans start showing up and hallucinations take over, the most unnerving of which involves a stalker who invades her apartment. 

Skye's fragile state prevents her from distinguishing reality from illusion, and after a while, neither can we. It's a clever approach, raising the stakes of the original, but feeling different enough to bare little resemblance at all. Scott carries this, shatteringly believable as both a huge star and recovering addict at the end of her rope. There's just an authenticity to how she acts, looks, sings and even moves that's layers beyond what we usually get from actors portraying fictitious celebrities. 

With the Entity taking hold and outside pressure on Skye ramping up, Scott's grueling performance really shifts into overdrive. Her character's appearance at a charity event stands as the film's centerpiece, resulting in the parasite's most damaging, publicly humiliating takeover yet. When it becomes clear her frigid stage mom's primary concern will always be dollar signs, Skye turns to ex-friend Gemma, but even that relationship isn't what it seems anymore.

The final act flies off the rails in ways both good and bad since Finn can only blur reality for so long until repetitiveness kicks in. Skye must confront her own past head-on, taking part in a dangerous, last ditch effort to rid herself of the curse. That the closing sequence draws comparisons to the vastly superior The Substance is just unfortunate timing, but Smile 2 earns its stripes by giving us an intriguing character study to accompany the thrills. And despite an unfair tendency to dismiss genre turns like these, it's hard to ignore Naomi Scott's emotionally exhausting turn as a pop star on the brink of a breakdown.                                                    

A Man on the Inside

Creator: Michael Schur
Starring: Ted Danson, Mary Elizabeth Ellis, Lilah Richcreek Estrada, Stephanie Beatriz, Eugene Cordero, Sally Struthers, Marc Evan Jackson, Kerry O' Malley, Margaret Avery, John Getz, Susan Ruttan, Veronica Cartwright, Clyde Kusatsu, Stephen McKinley Henderson, Lori Tan Chinn, Jama Williamson
Original Airdate: 2024

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)  

Having built his fifty year career on such eclectic roles as Cheers' Sam Malone, Damages' Arthur Frobisher and Bored to Death's George Christopher, Ted Danson reunites with The Good Place creator Michael Schur for a part that's custom made for his talents. All the trailers for Netflix's immensely satisfying new series A Man on the Inside suggests a spy spoof with about a bumbling senior going undercover to solve a crime, but that thin description does it a major disservice, at least compared to what we actually get.

While very much a palette cleanser in the vein of  traditional network sitcoms, it's surprisingly moving in how it explores heavier, emotionally resonant themes with an ideal mix of comedy and drama. And if Netflix often catches heat for haphazardly churning out an inconsistent buffet of content to boost subscriptions, this is a reminder that when they want to get it right, they can. 

With just eight episodes at a half hour each, it's a breezy, effortless watch that prominently features an ensemble of actors in their sixties and seventies, which is rare in itself. But rarer still is how someone of any age could watch and be able to appreciate the material from a different perspective. 

Whether it's an elderly individual facing similar issues as the show's protagonist or a middle-aged parent serving as caregiver to their own aging relative, the premise carries a universality that somehow avoids coming across as overly sentimental or maudlin. And if much of that can be attributed to Danson's lived in portrayal of a retired widower at a crossroads, it's also due to Schur maintaining a steady, consistent tone. Resisting any urge to raise the stakes too high, he instead tells a compact, humanistic story from start to finish, keeping its focus on these realistically fleshed out characters.

Retired San Francisco engineering professor Charles Nieuwendyk (Danson) is lonely and isolated following the recent death of his wife Victoria from Alzheimer's. Secluded from the outside world, he spends his free time cutting out newspaper articles and sending them to concerned daughter Emily (Mary Elizabeth Ellis), who's hands are full with work and three teen boys. 

When Emily suggests her father get a job or hobby of some sort, Charles answers an ad from private investigator Julie Kovalenko (Lilah Richcreek Estrada) seeking an assistant to go undercover at the Pacific View Retirement Community, where a priceless ruby necklace was recently stolen. 

Looking for an applicant in their 70's or 80's with a passable tech skills, Julie thinks she's found her guy, until realizing this could be a steep learning curve for Charles, who immediately draws attention to himself at Pacific View. While the facility is run by the caring but overworked Didi Santos Cordero (Stephanie Beatriz), her loyalty and keen sense of observation threatens to jeopardize his cover. But as befriends this quirky group of residents and realizes the value of their companionship, the case becomes a pathway for Charles in coming to terms with Victoria's death and reconnecting with his daughter.

After an effective prologue featuring a digitally de-aged Danson as Charles giving the toast at his wedding, we're given a glimpse into how much purpose he's lost without the love of his life. And as the series progresses and more details are revealed about her passing, it's revealed that he still harbors a lot of relatable guilt and regret over those final days, much of which he had very little control over. 

Describing Victoria as the glue that held his relationship with Emily together, Charles is understandably drowning in grief while she's frustrated at his refusal to talk about it. And none of those elements are forgotten when the plot seamlessly shifts into comedic mode, as going undercover was hardly what Emily had in mind for his recreational hobby.

There are some really inspired gags revolving around just how bad Charles' sleuthing skills are, like when he obviously questions residents, blindly trusts key suspects or hilariously fancies himself a Bond-like super spy. Subtlety isn't his strong suit, and while his no-nonsense boss Julie thinks she's made a catastrophic mistake hiring him, he does start making friends, all of whom are entertainingly quirky in their own way, but also dealing with various issues. 

Among others, Charles will spend time with fun loving, energetic best friends Virginia (a great Sally Struthers) and Florence (Margaret Avery), former Broadway costume designer Gladys (Susan Ruttan), new backgammon buddy Calbert (Stephen McKinley Henderson) and a cranky, jealous Elliott (Jon Getz), who sees Charles as a threat to him winning back ex-fiancee Virginia. And you can see why since their newest resident is pretty much Mr. Popularity right off the bat, which isn't ideal for undercover work, but is helping him heal his soul.

If Danson is the show's star then this setting comes in a close second, with Charles accurately observing how the environment more closely resembles high school than a retirement home with all its petty drama. But along the way he slowly gets a lot better at spying, to the point that he's legitimately on the brink of solving this mystery, though possibly at the expense of his friends finding out he isn't who he says. The theft itself is low stakes, but anything more involved would be at odds with not only the show's tone, but overall purpose. 

Smaller details and character moments resonate most, like Virginia's insistence on Florence getting massage chair, Elliot's sarcastic one-liners, or Cal's fractured relationship with his son. The always impressive McKinley-Henderson brings a restrained dignity to Cal, who also comes into his own through the bond he forms with Charles, culminating with a meaningful day out in San Francisco where both open up about their pasts and fears. 

Maybe the most poignant sub-plot involves Charles' attempts to help Gladys, who's suffering from dementia and about to enter the community's memory care ward. Attempting to assist her as he did his late wife, he's shocked how even those closest to this woman pull away out of fear, even while eventually recognizing his well-intentioned approach could be going a bit overboard. That this all doesn't come off as hopelessly triggering is a testament to the deft writing and Danson's skill in organically shifting between the spy hijinx and quieter, more human moments.

If there's a turning point in the series, it comes in the sixth episode, "Our Man from Sacramento," which follows Didi through her day and charts the enormous challenges she faces in running Pacific View as a possible promotion looms. Brooklyn Nine-Nine's Beatriz plays her as tough, fair, and empathetic, but the performance really hits its stride here, revealing why Didi does this and just how difficult it is to leave with so many depending on her. The whole arc is a reminder of how professional caregivers make sacrifices that go above and beyond, often helpless as the residents' needs get tangled up in bureaucratic red tape, unrecognized by corporate higher-ups more concerned with the bottom line.

While Didi fights every day for these people, Charles and Emily attempt to meet each other halfway and reconnect. Schur gets it right with that dynamic, including even Emily's three teen boys, who provide a surprising amount of laughs as she exasperatingly tries to contain their rambunctiousness. Ironically enough, they seem more receptive to their grandfather, which feels plausible since nearly everyone else does too. 

Initially hesitant about Charles' undercover assignment, Emily starts coming around after recognizing how it's helped, landing both at a place where they can finally talk honestly about about their loss. Even the hard to please Julie starts appreciating his skills, letting her softer side seep through while attempting to keep Charles on the task.

Of course we know Charles has to solve this case, but the other shoe also has to drop when everyone finds out why he was really there. Both these elements are tied up magnificently, as Danson's nuanced turn charts the journey of a man who gradually learns to move to the next stage of his life, slowly letting go of his grief and guilt day-by-day. 

If there's any drawback to the series, it's that the inevitable second season could have a challenge matching it with a new case and setting. But for a show far more interested in exploring characters than manufacturing plot devices, none of it works without Danson, who you may as well pencil in for an Emmy nod right now. Playing to his strengths in a way even some of his best roles haven't, it only solidifies his reputation as one of our most overlooked and underappreciated actors. 

Saturday Night

Director: Jason Reitman
Starring: Gabriel LaBelle, Rachel Sennott, Cory Michael Smith, Ella Hunt, Dylan O' Brien, Emily Fairn, Matt Wood, Lamore Morris, Kim Matula, Finn Wolfhard, Nicholas Braun, Cooper Hoffman, Andrew Barth Feldman, Taylor Gray, Nicholas Podany, Kaia Gerber, Robert Wuhl, Tommy Dewey, Catherine Curtin, Jon Batiste, Willem Dafoe, Paul Rust, Tracy Letts, Matthew Rhys, J. K. Simmons, Brad Garrett, Josh Brener
Running Time: 109 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

While certain obstacles accompany making a film about the 1975 premiere of Saturday Night Live, few compare to the challenges faced by the original cast and crew who got the show onto NBC, where it's resided for the past 50 years. Saturday Night co-writer/director Jason Reitman had to know this when committing to recreate a special brand of backstage chaos filled with actors chosen to pass as the most respected comedians of all-time. But they didn't start out on top. It was SNL that made them household names.

That's why it's so fitting Reitman stacks his cast full of young unknowns on the cusp of stardom, attempting to replicate the backstory of this bizarre show that didn't quiet resemble anything else on television. The running gag is how its frazzled but determined creator Lorne Michaels can't explain to executives something no one's seen yet. And he's right. But that doesn't mean what eventually airs in the midst of walkouts, firings, fires, threats and other production mishaps will even resemble the vision he has in mind. Flying by the seat of his pants, he'll be lucky if the network even lets him go through with it at all. 

For decades, critics and audiences would label each new SNL season and cast as its worst while overlooking how many huge talents it spawned. And this ensemble has the unenviable job of stepping into their shoes for one ridiculously stressful, debaucherous, profanity filled night that launches all their careers. But despite moving at a breakneck pace, certain faces do stand out long enough to make an impression as Reitman constructs one of his best recent efforts, and maybe the first that seems addictively rewatchable.  

It's October 11, 1975 and producer and creator Lorne Michaels (Gabriel LaBelle) arrives at NBC's New York City studio to prepare for the live airing of his new variety program, Saturday Night, which has the reluctant backing of increasingly nervous network boss Dick Ebersol (Cooper Hoffman). But disingenuous executive David Tebet (Willem Dafoe) is less optimistic, threatening to pull the plug and replace it with a rerun of The Tonight Show With Johnny Carson. 

The dysfunction Tebet witnesses does little to change his mind, as Michaels, comedy writer wife Rosie Shuster (Rachel Sennott) and head writer/actor Michael O' Donoghue (Tommy Dewey) try to wrangle their ambitiously makeshift cast of Chevy Chase (Cory Michael Smith), Gilda Radner (Ella Hunt), Dan Aykroyd (Dylan O' Brien), Laraine Newman (Emily Fairn), John Belushi (Matt Wood), Garrett Morris (Lamorne Morris) and Jane Curtin (Kim Matula). As show time rapidly approaches, everything that can go wrong does, putting the pressure on Michaels to prevent his dream from being shattered before it even airs.

Clocking in a tight 109 minutes, Reitman keeps things moving so fast it feels like twenty, letting viewers experience the crunch of how little time remains before the show goes live. And with relentless editing and rapid Sorkin-style dialogue, we're fully immersed inside this tumultuous backstage atmosphere with hardly a moment to breathe. On top of its impeccable, era specific production design, the whole film almost plays like a single continuous tracking shot, traveling from the street into the studio's halls, through the dressing rooms and onto the sound stage. Around every corner is another problem for Michaels to navigate, whether that's cutting sketches and performers with minutes to go, placating the stringent network censor (Catherine Curtin), or dealing with dissatisfied, coked up host George Carlin (Matthew Rhys). 

Michaels has to massage a lot of egos, and while history counts Chevy Chase as the most contentious cast member, it's actually Matt Wood's catatonic Belushi who proves completely uncontrollable, straddling the line between addict and eccentric genius. Wood, along with Cory Michael Smith's Chase and Dylan O' Brien's mustachioed Dan Akyroyd leave the biggest impressions of the main players, shunning any attempt at imitation to instead capture the freewheeling attitudes of super talented party animals who already consider themselves stars. 

Smith is particularly strong as Chase, establishing himself as the glue that holds this show together, impressing executives even while rubbing certain guests and castmates the wrong way. He'll get his comeuppance in a memorable confrontation with the gruff, ornery Milton Berle (a movie stealing J.K. Simmons) who humiliatingly cuts the cocky Chase down to size in front of girlfriend Jacqueline Carlin (Kaia Gerber). None of this likely happened, but the idea it could have is where the fun's at, as Reitman and co-writer Gil Kenan send up the stars' controversial reputations.

There are also other small moments in the midst of all this pandemonium that really click, like Garrett Morris's insecurity over his big break or actor Nicholas Braun's depiction of an ignored Jim Henson, who's captured with eerie specificity. And in a clever parallel to the spontaneous nature of SNL itself, Braun pulls double duty as Andy Kaufman, whose ubiquitous presence leads to a big payoff that doesn't disappoint. Gilda Radner, Laraine Newman and Jane Curtin aren't given much face time, at least in relation to how their contributions are viewed. But given the sheer amount of ground covered, it's inevitable certain players are shortchanged, which is also an accurate reflection of this show over the years. 

The casting of Dickinson actress Ella Hunt as Radner might be Reitman's only questionable call since those expecting the outsized personality of the comedic legend will be taken for a loop by Hunt's sweeter, more tender take. This isn't to say Radner didn't also possess those qualities, but it's easier  imagining co-star Rachel Sennott knocking that role out of the park. Instead, she proves invaluable as show den mother Rosie, who protects Michaels and the rest of the cast from their own worst instincts. Still, Reitman deserves praise for a a touchingly prophetic scene between Radner and Belushi that resonates in all the right ways as all these characters head into the final stretch.

Having already played a variation on another iconic creator in Steven Spielberg's The Fabelmans, Gabriel Labelle carries this picture on his back, leading the charge as Michaels wards off the constant stream of bad luck and a network itching to see him fail. He's always been described as generally low-key so it's interesting to watch how LaBelle's performance doesn't really contradict those accounts, even under the craziest of circumstances. A human punching bag who absorbs each successive blow, he'll soldier on, determined to see the show judged on its own merits. He knows what he has, even if putting it into words for the suits can get a little tricky. 

That NBC had no interest in ever airing this endeavor makes the film's closing scene hit that much harder, as everyone anxiously waits for a reaction signifying they've somehow pulled it off. Michaels is frequently warned against referring to the show as a "revolution," but after hearing late night's most famous intro for the first time, it's impossible not to understand what he meant. By capturing this in all its chaotic glory, Saturday Night shows how the most effective comedy can't just merely be described. When you see it, you'll know.                                                        

Emilia Pérez

Director: Jacques Audiard
Starring: Zoe Saldaña, Karla Sofia Gascón, Selena Gomez, Adriana Paz, Edgar Ramírez, Mark Ivanir
Running Time: 132 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Say what you will about Jacques Audiard's Emilia Pérez, but it's definitely in a category all by itself, at points straddling the lines between drama, musical, comedy, and action thriller. And while it isn't exactly common to see an elaborately choreographed musical number about a drug lord's gender reassignment surgery, Audiard's out of the box approach is easy to embrace, shattering any preconceptions viewers may have going in. 

Adapting his own opera into a unconventional feature, Audiard's technique becomes more about the "how" than "what," pushing the plot in a direction that at times seems impossible to predict. He walks the thinnest of tightropes by mixing disparate genres in a blender to earn a payoff that hits surprisingly hard, thanks largely to the pair of brilliant performances that anchor this ambitious spectacle.

Rita Mora Castro (Zoe Saldaña) is an overworked, undervalued defense attorney in Mexico assisting in a prominent murder case when she gets an anonymous phone call requesting her presence for a mysterious meeting. After being offered a life-altering sum of money for her services, she discovers the prospective client is notorious drug cartel kingpin Juan "Manitas" Del Monte (Karla Sofia Gascón). Informing Rita of his desire to get out of the business and start a new life as a woman, he tasks her with finding a surgeon to perform the surgery and relocate his wife Jessi (Selena Gomez) and two children to Switzerland for their safety. 

Upon faking his own death, Juan becomes "Emilia Pérez" and Rita gets paid, assuming her work is done. And it is until she encounters a now unrecognizable Emilia four years later, who has one more important assignment for the lawyer. But it's a big one that could potentially destroy Emilia's cover, putting those she cares most about at risk. As Rita and Emilia professionally joining forces to run a Mexican nonprofit, the former will soon discover the true danger of her client attempting to exert the same level of control in this life as she did in her criminal one.

There's a reversal of expectations since Audiard could have taken the easy road of former enemies uncovering Emilia's identity and returning to extract revenge. What occurs instead is far more complex, as Juan's transformation into Emilia initially goes off without a hitch, extricating her from a violent past to experience this new life as a woman. But once Emilia retains Rita's services again, we suspect  trouble lurks on the horizon. Unfortunately, the danger ends up being Emilia herself, who proves that old habits die hard. 

Jessi and the kids believing Juan is gone won't deter Emilia from reconnecting with her family, even if they have no idea who she really is. Nor will Jessi's volatile relationship with boyfriend Gustavo (Edgar Ramírez), a problem she'll poorly try to handle using her old tactics. Rita knows Emilia's involvement is a terrible idea, but as the two friends start changing lives in the community, we see a charitable, remorseful side of Emilia that suggests she's desperate to make amends for a life of crime. But even as she's immersed in a solid relationship with girlfriend Epifanía (Adriana Paz), the walls around her are crumbling down.

Even with Emilia raising her public profile enough to become a folk hero of sorts, it's still credible that no one in law enforcement or the criminal underworld would recognize her since we have to do a triple take ourselves in identifying her as Juan. And if there's been some debate surrounding who the film's lead actually is, what Gascón pulls off is miraculous either way, charting Emilia's journey from drug boss to flawed saint with a wide range of motivation and regret. 

Gascón excels as both the silently suffering Juan and more extroverted, self-assured Emilia, who's struggling to reconnect with her family. From scene-to-scene the actress manages to swing between charismatic caregiver and domineering monster, making viewers wonder who will win in the end. And yet the film's first half belongs entirely to Saldaña, who earns a showcase for unexplored facets of her talent previously hidden by giant franchise roles. 

The tirelessly loyal Rita is simultaneously inspired and frustrated by Emilia, who's new beginning marks an entirely different start for her as well. And Saldaña puts her trained dance background to good use by impressively carrying the musical numbers, many of which are not only catchy, but advance the story's plot with humorously clever lyrics sprung from spoken conversations. While the Spanish film's subtitled, it's a credit to Saldaña that the translation rarely feels necessary because she sells so much of the story through her voice, mannerisms and body language. Gomez's performance peaks later, but she emerges as a formidable presence as Jessi flies further off the rails when escalating events reach their climax.

Like its title character, the picture itself undergoes a transition when the script abruptly changes course, going down an alternate road that ends up being even more explosive. Throughout, Audiard remains fully committed to the notion that someone can physically change who they are, but trying to erase everything else is much harder. The story doesn't really begin until the title character gets what she wants, realizing the reward of living an authentic life can still come at an extremely high cost.                

The Substance

Director: Coralie Fargeat
Starring: Demi Moore, Margaret Qualley, Dennis Quaid, Edward Hamilton Clark, Gore Abrams, Oscar Lesage, Christian Erickson, Robin Greer, Hugo Diego Garcia
Running Time: 141 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

Gripping, disgusting and hilarious, French filmmaker Coralie Fargeat's wicked horror satire The Substance is a cautionary tale the great Rod Serling probably would have appreciated. And that's obvious from the very first scene, which shows a star on Hollywood's Walk of Fame gradually deteriorating over the decades. If receiving one can be a source of pride and validation in an industry where respect is scarce, it's also fleeting. Especially for entertainers encouraged to measure their self-worth with superficial accolades.

Recognition may be nice, but what happens when you're kicked to the curb for a younger model? That's the question the film's aging actress faces and her male colleagues rarely need to consider, at least to this extent. While plastic surgery, collagen injections and various pills provide viable options for women to turn back the clock and enhance their appearance, it's tougher finding a sufficient explanation as to why that's now a prerequisite. 

In providing users an unusual black market drug, this mysterious company at the film's center seems to have it all down to a science. Our protagonist takes the bait because she's desperate, but the underlying implication is that many others already gave in and will continue to. And like most medical breakthroughs, there are few safe guards against misuse or addiction, a detail that serves as a compelling launch pad for the craziness that'll unfold.

When fading movie star Elisabeth Sparkle (Demi Moore) turns 50, she's fired from her Jane Fonda inspired TV aerobics show by the network's greedy, boisterous producer Harvey (Dennis Quaid), who's looking for a younger replacement. But when Elisabeth's admitted to the hospital after a car accident, she's given a flash drive by a nurse that advertises a cell-replicating serum called "The Substance," which promises a "younger, more beautiful, more perfect" version of herself. After picking up the supply, Elisabeth injects the "single-use activator," causing her body to generate Sue (Margaret Qualley), who emerges from a slit in her back. 

Every seven days the two must switch consciousness, with the inactive, unconscious body being fed intravenously. But when the wild, hard partying Sue becomes an overnight sensation as Elisabeth's replacement on the show, the latter falls into deep despair, unable to face the world as an older woman. Breaking protocol to extend her time and permanently bench Elisabeth, Sue's selfishness causes catastrophic side effects as the two consciousnesses head for a collision course, ignoring the fact they'll need each other to survive. 

Fountain of youth concepts aren't new to film, but the originality behind this particular process and its ramifications definitely are. Early on, the plot recalls elements of 1966's Seconds, in which a middle-aged banker utilizes the services of a clandestine agency to surgically transforms himself into a younger man played by Rock Hudson. Here, Fargeat takes that general idea to a different place by focusing on an actress whose age and appearance has always been her calling card. 

To say Elisabeth's insecurities apply strictly to this profession ignores how this premise casts a much wider net, independent of social status or wealth. Because she's an Oscar winner and fitness guru who isn't financially hurting, it's a credit to the script and Moore's performance that we don't roll our eyes at her unhappiness or dismiss the plot as a rich woman's Hollywood problem. The handwriting's on the wall as she's cruelly and casually cast aside, making it easy to see how she'd be drawn to "The Substance," which promises to rescue this increasingly invisible woman from certain obscurity. 

Retrieving her starter package from this sterile white medical storage facility in a dilapidated warehouse, it's amazing just how idiot proof the kit is. With clearly marked bags notating the steps so plainly you'd believe someone could perform this procedure without detailed instructions, despite how grossly absurd it looks. But none of that accounts for how Elisabeth psychologically handles taking a backseat to her younger, more desirable counterpart as she lies unconscious on the bathroom floor for a week.

Since Elisabeth and Sue share a consciousness, it stands to reason what one does should benefit the other, curtailing any potential pitfalls. Instead, Elisabeth wakes from her slumber even more depressed and invisible, binge eating all day and night. It's Sue who basks in the adulation that comes with being the hot, young ingenue, soon growing disgusted by the mere thought of her older version even existing. So it isn't long before she violates protocol to extend her time, resulting in crippling side effects for Elisabeth. Sue doesn't get off so easily either, having to inject herself with a "stabilizer fluid" to avoid a similar physical deterioration. 

This battle for supremacy is contested entirely inside Elisabeth's mind, as strange as that seems for a story so firmly situated in the body horror genre. She's the one person who can stop this, if only the pressure to remain young and desired wasn't so great. Hating Sue out of jealousy while still desperately needing her counterpart to maintain any semblance of self esteem, she becomes trapped in a prison of her own making.

With a willingness to spoof her public image while inhabiting the headspace of a character defined as old and washed up, a never more vulnerable Moore is literally and emotionally naked for much of this meta role. She also endures an absurd amount of prosthetics and physicality in an insane third act, conveying the complicated trauma of a woman who will do anything to retain her youth, not realizing the true cost of that deal. But her most pointed scene comes when she can't leave her apartment for a date, constantly altering her appearance in the mirror before collapsing in a pile of tears, shaking and unable to function.

As Sue, Qualley's job is tougher than it first appears, playing the vainest, most selfish version of a woman unwilling to squander her second chance at any cost. The character initially comes across as a cipher who smiles and looks pretty enough to please the ratings hungry Harvey, until all the attention goes to her head. Viewing Elisabeth as a loathsome burden that needs disposing of, the only thing more jarring than Sue's self absorbedness is how good Qualley is at portraying it, her iciness setting the stage for a showdown where neither can possibly walk away the winner.

Dennis Quaid's scenery devouring turn as this slimy producer isn't intended to be multi-dimensional, but he entertains every minute he's on screen as you eagerly anticipating his next appearance. Diabolically sleazy with his sinister smile and passive aggressive misogyny, Fargeat films him in these uncomfortably extreme close-ups that make the character look like the grossest person on Earth, especially when he's sloppily inhaling a plate of seafood. Comically repulsive, Quaid knows what movie he's in, even if his showy work will unfairly fly under the radar amidst justifiable praise for Moore and Qualley.

In addition to cinematographer Benjamin Kračun eye-popping, immersive visuals, production designer Pierre Olivier-Persin creates this unforgettable look for a bizarre time vacuum that looks and feels like the 1980's, but isn't quite. It also contains a windfall of cleverly coded cinematic references that range from The Shining to 2001: A Space Odyssey, The Elephant Man, Basket Case and Carrie. 

Elisabeth and Sue do eventually find a way to coexist in a blood soaked New Year's climax, though not at all how either expected, as both hold their funhouse mirror up to the ugly society that's rejected them. Filmed in a hyper realistic style that comes right out of Cronenberg's playbook, there's a deliberate build to the chaos that makes its gruesome payoff even more satisfying and thematically relevant. Lacking all pretense of restraint, Fargeat gleefully beats us into submission with sickening thrills and a fearless Demi Moore, who gives a performance unlike anything else in her career.

Joker: Folie à Deux

Director: Todd Phillips
Starring: Joaquin Phoenix, Lady Gaga, Brendan Gleeson, Catherine Keener, Zazie Beetz, Steve Coogan, Harry Lawtey, Leigh Gill, Ken Leung, Jacob Lofland, Bill Smitrovich
Running Time: 138 min.
Rating: R

★★½ (out of ★★★★)  

It seems fitting how all these post-mortems are being done on the critical and commercial failure of Todd Phillips' Joker: Folie à Deux since the film itself can almost be viewed as an autopsy of its brilliant predecessor.That this sequel feels made by someone who dislikes the idea of sequels isn't necessarily a negative, but Phillips creates a sprawling, audaciously ambitious mess that manages to tests viewers' patience as much as it subverts expectations. It's a huge, frustrating swing for the fences, revolving entirely around 2019's Joker while simultaneously having very little to do with it. 

Relitigating the previous film's events in painstaking detail, it focuses on the motivations behind Arthur Fleck's crimes and his own fractured state of mind as he faces trial. By this point, the character's mental illness and violent tendencies aren't exactly well guarded secrets, leaving the question as to whether a deeper psychological dive justifies another entry. And now with his perplexing follow-up, Phillips takes extremely bold measures to ensure it does. Some of those work, but others don't.  

Now in custody at Arkham State Hospital, party clown and failed stand-up comedian Arthur Fleck (Joaquin Phoenix) awaits trial for the murders he committed two years earlier, including his live on-air killing of TV host Murray Franklin (Robert De Niro). As Arthur's lawyer Maryanne Stewart (Catherine Keener) builds an insanity defense arguing the Joker persona is responsible, Arkham guard Jackie (an excellent Brendan Gleeson) gets him into a music therapy class. It's here where Arthur meets and falls for Harleen "Lee" Quinzel (Lady Gaga), an obsessive Joker superfan who was committed for allegedly burning down her parents' apartment. 

After Lee's plan for them to escape and start a new life together is thwarted, an increasingly unhinged Arthur must prepare for court while his legions of Joker fans root him on. With Gotham's Assistant D.A. Harvey Dent (Harry Lawtey) hellbent on a death penalty conviction, witnesses like former neighbor Sophie Drummond (Zazie Beetz) and co-worker Gary Puddles (Leigh Gill) take the stand to testify. Continuing to lean on Lee for support, Arthur's grip on reality slips as Joker reemerges, transforming the trial into a circus sideshow.

Given the heavy influence of Scorsese's Taxi Driver and The King of Comedy on the first film, it wasn't the worst idea for Phillips to pair Joker up with Harley Quinn for a jukebox musical in the vein of New York, New York. But after a promising start, the dark, twisted love story loses its way when scattershot execution and repetitive scenes fail to move the story forward. Clocking in at two hours and eighteen minutes, it feels longer, accompanied by a trial of the century you worry may never end. What nearly saves it are two phenomenal performances and the impressive visuals, both of which are occasionally lost amidst a package that just doesn't come together like it should.   

A cleverly conceived animated opening where Joker is impersonated by his shadow prior to a live TV performance provides a more revealing glimpse into the film's themes than you'd suspect, as the Looney Tunes-style short conveys that ongoing tug of war between Arthur's two identities. And many of the musical sequences do succeed as a manifestation of his insanity, particularly an Arkham rooftop dance and a Sonny and Cher inspired variety show spoof. But even with the presence of old school songbook standards like "That's Entertainment," "When You're Smiling" and "I've Got the World on a String," these excursions become increasingly uneven, resulting in diminishing returns the more Phillips tries to squeeze in.

Of all the picture's issues, Phoenix and Gaga aren't among them, with the former giving another complex, compelling performance that alternates between dark humor and unimaginable despair as Arthur's vulnerability is put on full display for everyone to see. And despite skepticism surrounding her casting, Gaga's work is one of the best things in this, and not just because of her singing during the musical interludes. In capturing the dangerously compulsive infatuation Lee has with Joker, her true motivations remain constantly in question. Their bond not only reflects his narcissistic need for love and affection, but ties into themes of media obsession prevalent in the first film. 

Midway through, the narrative becomes disjointed when scenes drag and action awkwardly shifts between the hospital and courtroom. Musical sequences are either piled on or disappear before returning to relay the same idea in a different song or setting. But while Arthur's trial is entirely too long, it's still entertaining to watch Joker represent himself with a Grisham inspired Southern drawl as the supposedly no-nonsense judge (Life Goes On's Bill Smitrovich!) indulges his craziest whims. By the time returning characters take the stand, what unfolds feels like a bizarre cross between the Seinfeld finale and Colin Ferguson's 1993 shooting trial. Harvey Dent's inclusion makes sense, even if the character leaves so little an impression you'll have to remind yourself he's there, until a late development jolts us into recalling why.

While there's understandable disdain for what Phillips attempts, this approaches the material from an entirely different angle than the first film, far more invested in exploring whether Arthur and Joker really are one in the same. A potentially intriguing thesis on it comes toward the end, but even that's marred by some confusing, if well shot theatrics. Its final minutes feel more deflating than tragic, likely to leave viewers shaking their heads at the infuriating denouement, as if the joke's on them. And in a way, it is. But despite its many problems, this still could be worth revisiting down the road, if only to further examine how a Joker sequel turned out like this.