Sinners

Director: Ryan Coogler
Starring: Michael B. Jordan, Hailee Steinfeld, Miles Caton, Jack O' Connell, Wunmi Mosaku, Jayme Lawson, Omar Miller, Delroy Lindo, Peter Dreimanis, Lola Kirke, Li Jun Li, Saul Williams, Yao, David Maldonado, Helena Hu, Buddy Guy
Running Time: 137 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)    

Writer/director Ryan Coogler takes a big swing with his supernatural drama Sinners, which burns slowly until erupting into a full blown horror spectacle. Following a first half that draws favorable comparisons to Killers of the Flower Moon, we're prepared for the possibility this too will be a historical exploration into generational trauma, racism and religion. And it is, only with Coogler taking a wildly different turn to get there, with music functioning as these characters' paths to salvation. 

Sharing a lot more in common with 1996's From Dusk Till Dawn than the franchise projects Coogler's known for, it's a uniquely conceived genre period piece that doesn't sacrifice the mainstream appeal of his previous work. But what sticks out most is how he deftly handles challenging material that could have gone wrong in any number of ways. While the writing and performances carry an opening hour we'd rather not see end, the real insanity starts when he pulls the trigger and all hell breaks loose.

It's 1932 and identical twins and World War I veterans Smoke and Stack Moore (Michael B. Jordan) return to their hometown of Clarksdale, Mississippi after working for the Chicago Mob for years. Upon purchasing an old sawmill from a local landowner, they plan to open a juke joint establishment for the Black community with singing, dancing and a bar. They're joined by their cousin Sammie (Miles Caton), an aspiring guitarist whose pastor father believes blues music is the devil and would far rather his son be at church. 

The twins also recruit Smoke's girlfriend Annie (Wunmi Mosaku) as cook, town drunk Delta Slim (Delroy Lindo) as their pianist, sharecropper Cornbread (Omar Miller) as a bouncer and local Chinese shopkeeper spouses Grace (Li Jun Li) and Bo Chow (Yao) as suppliers. Despite distractions stemming from the animosity Stack's mixed-race ex-girlfriend Mary (Hailee Steinfeld) harbors toward him and Sammie's infatuation with married singer Pearline (Jayme Lawson), the opening is a success. At least until the arrival of vampire Remmick (Jack O' Connell) with married Klu Klux Klan couple Bert and Joan (Peter Dreimanis and Lola Kirke), who crave much more than blood. 

If trailers and commercials didn't already hint where the story's headed, you'd wonder what the feared, respected Smokestack Twins are up to when they arrive, throwing their weight around like they own the town. Unfailingly loyal one minute, brutally violent the next, it's clear the money and connections they've made in Chicago has only strengthened their grip over Clarksdale. Distinguishable by their contrasting red and blue hats, they're also simultaneously loved and hated by residents, many of whom know better than to cross them. 

As the brothers attempt to get the joint off the ground, we see another side of them that's filled with regret and determined to create something that will bring this community together through a shared love of music. The loyalty is evident in their recruitment of Sammie, who limps into his father's church bruised and battered in the film's opening flashforward, offering a hint of what's to come. With music and excitement filling the air, an Remmick's gang crashes these opening night festivities as they attempt to assimilate everyone into their undead cult, resulting in a power struggle between good and evil.     

While the vampires seemingly share a hive mind, Irish immigrant Remmick plans to builds this family around an appropriation of Black culture, with Coogler introducing some not so thinly veiled symbolism regarding racism in the Deep South and the corrupting influence of hate. There to consume and exploit, the vampires view a highly vulnerable Sammie as their missing key due to his extraordinary musical talent. But before they can get to him, others are converted one-by-one with a single bite as they're hauled up inside fighting for their lives as seeds of mistrust are sown and alliances tested.

Jordan gives a powerhouse turn in his dual role as the intimidating, hotheaded Stack and a more contemplative Smoke, somehow managing to leave little doubt as to who we're watching in any given scene. And once the twins' seemingly unbreakable bond is broken, Jordan's performance shifts into another gear, enabling the actor to display his action chops. 

Newcomer Caton holds up his end of the deal as Sammie, tracking his journey from young, impressionable sharecropper to blues hero. Steinfeld also leaves an indelible mark as the white-passing Mary, who's pretty much beloved by everyone despite the messy unfinished business with Stack. Lindo, Mosaku, Lawson and Li are all equally exceptional in their varied roles, with each fully fleshed out and given a considerable amount of attention. And thanks to some astounding visuals and Oscar winner Luwig Göransson's blues and folk infused score, everything comes together in a way we quite haven't seen before.   

After the big showdown, there's no returning to yesterday, or even earlier that same afternoon. Once this band of mysterious intruders show up at their doorstep, the surviving characters' lives are permanently transformed and the real protagonist is forced to process it for the rest of his life. With that, Coogler sticks the landing in one of the few post-credit scenes to function not as a gimmicky device, but an unmissable coda the film couldn't exist without. It's a crucial reveal used to maximum effect, giving us a little more to contemplate and the urge to watch it all again through a different lens. 

Begin Again

Director: John Carney
Starring: Keira Knightley, Mark Ruffalo, Adam Levine, Catherine Keener, Hailee Steinfeld, James Corden, CeeLo Green, Mos Def
Running Time: 104 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

John Carney's musical dramedy Begin Again is so effortlessly fun and enjoyable that it's easy to get swept away in the songs and forget that it actually raises some interesting questions. What exactly does it mean to "sell out?" How does stardom change someone? What should drive an artist to make music? Why is the music industry collapsing? None of these questions are overtly asked or answered, but they're present the whole time, bubbling beneath the surface of what we think will be a fluffy rom-com.While it's become a cliche to call any movie "a love letter to" whatever (in this case music and New York City) this one actually sort of is. But it's definitely not a romance. It's about our relationship to music, told through that music and two characters who are about as real and authentic as it gets.  
 
There's one pivotal scene that serves as the jumping-off point for the entire story and the moment our lead characters' lives converge. It's so important we see it twice, from two different perspectives. Struggling singer-songwriter Gretta James (Keira Knightley) is performing in a dingy, Lower East Side bar in NYC and she's fairly unimpressive. Not terrible mind you, but singing exactly how you'd expect someone of her limited experience level to. But the second time we see and hear that same performance it's through the eyes and ears of divorced, alcoholic record label executive Dan Mulligan (Mark Ruffalo) whose best days in the industry are behind him, having just been kicked out of the company he co-founded.

Though drunk, Dan doesn't experience what everyone in the bar does, but instead what  could be, adding sounds in his head and watching all the dormant instruments on stage come to life, invisibly playing on their own. He's conducting his own symphony with Gretta as its centerpiece, imagining the kind of album they'll make and release together. Of course, she thinks he's nuts. And the best thing about it is how she's completely right, but also almost equally nuts for going along for the ride. It's an incredible scene that not only highlights the power of music, but recognizes the role of producer, whose job it often is to see potential when no one else does.

The film's structure is kind of interesting, with the story not technically under way until that bar performance. Separate flashbacks show how Gretta and Dan got to this point, with neither exactly riding high lately. She's broken up with longtime boyfriend and songwriting partner Dave Kohl (Adam Levine), just as he exploded as a mainstream star. Temporarily crashing at her old friend Steve's (James Corden), she's considering a move back to England, worrying there may be nothing left for her in New York. Dan is meanwhile battling best friend and business partner Saul (Mos Def) over the direction of their record label and losing. He's also confronted with the harsh reality that his rebellious teen daughter Violet (Hailee Steinfeld) and ex-wife Miriam (Catherine Keener) resent him for walking out, rebuffing his latest attempt to be a father again at his convenience. It's here where Gretta and Dan's paths cross at the bar, with him eventually convincing her to record an album after much prompting. The catch is that they'll do it publicly at various locations across New York City, funding it themselves and recruiting a team of talented unknown musicians. They're an unusual pair faced with a difficult challenge, but the project eventually proves to be a first step toward rebuilding their lives.

For a while you're so lost in the music that it becomes just as easy to forget there's a very deliberate plot, though not necessarily one that adheres to the strict formula we're used to. Most of the music is written by former New Radicals frontman Gregg Alexander of "You Get What You Give" fame. While that 1998 single cemented the band as a one-hit wonder, these tunes not only sound nothing like it, but could almost be considered his response to the industry that facilitated its existence. It's a lot closer to the acoustic, singer-songwritery sound found in Carney's previous music-based film, Once, and they're well performed by both Knightley and Levine. They offer up dueling versions of the ballad "Lost Stars," which would seem to be a lock for a Best Original Song Oscar nod despite that exclusive category's often crazy qualifications.

The screenplay succeeds in part by not making Gretta some great undiscovered talent, but a bar singer who probably wouldn't be signed by a major label based on her vocal ability. But the true irony is that less talented artists are signed everyday for reasons having nothing to do with their music, as much of that can just be fixed in the studio. This discussion of style over substance is nicely addressed in the film, with Dan realistically written as a smart producer who knows this, but thinks his profit-hungry business partner has gone too far in the other direction. He's probably right, but also too much of a mess to articulate it or try to compromise in any way. True to his skill set, Dan knows Gretta's limitations and what needs to be done to work around them to give her the confidence to complete the album. And that just might be the sharpest aspect of Carney's script.

Knightley's an odd but inspired choice for this role since on paper it wouldn't seem like it could work at all. Strong but never transcendent in everything in which she's appeared, most of her previous performances have elicited a respectable golf clap rather than an enthusiastic rave from this reviewer. That many still closely associate her with period dramas would seem to only increase the difficulty in picturing her as a hipster musician performing at bars on the Lower East Side. Well, consider this that enthusiastic rave since Knightley connects in a way she hasn't before, making Gretta instantly relatable and recognizable to the viewer within minutes of her first appearance. Charmingly adorable and sarcastic, but never cloying, she's easy to root for and Knightley is just good enough a singer to sell this. It wouldn't work for the story if she were any better or worse vocally, so in that sense Carney really knew what he was doing in casting her opposite Ruffalo.

Such a chameleon that it's hard to believe he's the same actor who recently played wrestler Dave Schultz in Foxcatcher, Ruffalo is carving out a career similar to Philip Seymour Hoffman's in that he can invisibly step into anyone. Dan's a walking disaster who's basically torpedoing his life and career, selfishly pushing everyone away. This shouldn't be a likable guy. Then just watch what Ruffalo subtly does with him to win us over. But if there's a weak area in the movie it's the sub-plot involving Dan's inability to connect with his estranged daughter, though in fairness nothing about it is handled poorly. It's just kind of there, with my indifference undoubtedly stemming from having just seen Hailee Steinfeld play nearly the same exact angry teen role opposite Kevin Costner in 3 Days To Kill and it's starting to feel old hat.

While the casting of Maroon 5's Adam Levine is the decision most likely to induce eye-rolling amongst more discerning viewers, his actual performance doesn't, strangely accumulating more facial hair the more unlikable he becomes. By taking this on he also opens himself up to the criticism that he's just "playing himself," as Dave Kohl (not Grohl) could easily be described in the same unflattering terms sometimes ascribed to him by dissenters. But the movie's more interesting than that, looking beyond the reductive reasoning that Kohl's just simply a self-absorbed sell-out. It's into the "how" and "why." Are these people born or made? Would anyone who experiences a taste of success or fame automatically re-prioritize? Without spoiling too much, toward the end of the film we're given the rare treat of actually seeing an artist seemingly "sell-out" mid-performance, if that's indeed what's happening. Based on what we see here, Levine just might be a slightly more interesting performer as Kohl than as himself. It's not that he lacks talent in reality, just that the musical material his character's given does seem to suit his singing style better.

The biggest question explored is the artist's purpose for making music. Is it done out of the love of the art or the having that art reach millions of people and bring them happiness? Or maybe it's just about the money. Some of the best scenes occur between Gretta and Kohl, including an early one in which she slaps him for what seems like no reason, until we realize both characters communicate with an unspoken language that exists between songwriters. They got there first and are a step ahead of us, knowing something we don't. How often does that happen?  I'm still not sure the film's eventual solution to what ails the music industry is the right answer, but it works for this circumstance. The timely issue of artist compensation is rarely even addressed in movies, so I'll take it. Let's just say what Dan and Gretta eventually do with their album works only for a certain type of artist, while calling into question how much profit artists actually see when at the mercy of a record label. The only exception is if you're so big that you are the label, or in someone like Taylor Swift's case, bigger than it.

This project was formerly known under it's working title, Can a Song Save Your Life?, which is not only more memorable, but a better encapsulation of what it's actually about. Given its themes, it's almost painfully ironic that commerce won out and this was instead released with a generic title that practically oozes corporate blandness. Luckily, the end result does anything but that. Under normal circumstances we know how a feel-good musical drama like this wraps up. We know who Gretta should end up with and what should happen with Dan's career and family. Carney is refreshingly uninterested in any of this because it's irrelevant. It's not about exes or shattered relationships and he doesn't even "go there" with Gretta and Dan's relationship even though he conceivably could and get away with it. It's just that there's no reason to and it would be a betrayal of what the story's really about: The music. It never takes a backseat. Much like the album being produced in it, Begin Again tries and succeeds in making the absolute most of what it has.
        

3 Days To Kill

Director: McG
Starring: Kevin Costner, Amber Heard, Hailee Steinfeld, Connie Nielsen, Richard Sammel, Tómas Lemarquis, Eriq Ebouaney, Raymond J. Barry
Running Time: 117 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

The best thing about the otherwise unambitious but fairly enjoyable McG action thriller 3 Days to Kill is Kevin Costner's performance. It continues what has to be considered somewhat of a late-career resurgence for the actor who's as good as he's ever been lately, this time as a veteran CIA agent dying of cancer. The set-up is both more and less interesting than it sounds, with a script that sometimes cleverly blends the main character's professional and personal lives, while delivering few surprises. That means it's all up to Costner to carry this, which he does, playing a two-sided character that isn't completely unlike the one we saw him portray in 2007's overlooked Mr. Brooks, with the key difference being that this murderous character is a legally contracted one. And yet the two movies are nothing alike and his work impressively not even the slightest bit similar. But even that's not enough to save what ends up being a fairly routine action outing well disguised as something more substantial.

CIA agent Ethan Renner (Costner) probably won't live to see Christmas, having been diagnosed with terminal brain cancer that's already spread to his lungs. When he returns home to Paris from his latest assignment, he sees the diagnosis as the final chance to repair his damaged relationship with estranged teenage daughter Zooey (Hailee Steinfeld) and ex-wife, Christine (Connie Nielsen). Instead, he's greeted with a proposition from CIA assassin, Vivi Delay (Amber Heard) to find and kill a dangerous arms trafficker known simply as the Wolf  (Richard Sammel). In exchange he'll receive an experimental drug that could possibly prolong his life, giving him extra time to reconnect with his family. But its hallucinatory side effects cause him to wonder if it's worth the trouble, while also making it extremely difficult to complete the task at hand. Hardly in top form but with nothing left to lose, Ethan's in a race against the clock, but the bigger challenge might be figuring out how to be a dad to a rebellious teen.     

To its credit, this is actually a pretty compelling premise, muddled by some of the usual cliches found in hitman movies. That's tempered slightly by Costner's work as a dying man trying to do right by his daughter. He makes it clear that Ethan is weakened and on his last legs, but doesn't overplay it either, showing shades of an agent you'd imagine as a force when he was at the top of his game. His best scenes are opposite Steinfeld, whose Zooey is not only at the age where she's mortified to even be seen with her father, but actually has a good reason since he's been selfish and absent most of her life. It's not groundbreaking material and I'm still on the fence about an actress of Steinfeld's caliber being burdened with having to flesh out a whiny teen in an action thriller, but if it has to be played by anyone, it may as well be someone talented.

How their relationship develops beats anything having to do with the actual assassination plot or whatever tasks Ethan must complete to extend his life. Their arc may be predictable, but in the hands of these two actors it manages to at least feel somewhat fresh. As entertaining as it is watching the action jump back and forth between Ethan's bumbling attempts to connect with Zooey and his assigned kills, the two never really merge in a satisfying way. The lone plus on the professional end of the narrative is Amber Heard at her most seductive as Vivi, injecting a decent dose of deadpan humor and energy into each of her appearances opposite Costner, even as Ethan injects the drug that could potentially extend his life.

The action sequences are excitingly filmed by McG, with everything eventually coming to a head in a bullet-heavy finale that concludes exactly as you'd expect. If anything, you'd figure the added drama of having a dying protagonist working against the clock would organically inject the script with an urgency, at least leaving the door open for possible surprises. Instead, it seems the filmmakers were content just letting this predictably unfold. That it was co-written and produced by Taken director Luc Besson should have been a hint to expect something a little meatier than a run-of-the-mill thriller but both installments of that franchise were considerably more suspenseful and exciting than 3 Days to Kill, despite having seemingly less to work with. Trying to turn Costner into the next Liam Neeson isn't the worst idea in the world, but he's going to need a much better project to fully pull it off.