Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret.

Director: Kelly Fremon Craig
Starring: Abby Ryder Forster, Rachel McAdams, Kathy Bates, Benny Safdie, Elle Graham, Amari Alexis Price, Katherine Kupferer, Kate MacCluggage, Aidan Wojtak-Hissong, Landon S. Baxter, Echo Kellum, Zackary Brooks, Isol Young, Mia Dillon, Gary Houston
Running Time: 106 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

After rejecting offers for nearly half a century to adapt her most widely known novel, Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret. into a feature film, celebrated children's author Judy Blume finally gave in. But considering the extent of that book's impact on middle-school aged girls of a certain era, it's hard to fault her for waiting. And with only one of her many works having hit the big screen thus far, she's the rare seminal writer who's been spared the indignity of her stories being butchered by a Hollywood system inept at tackling this kind of material. That Blume founded "YA" well before the label even existed earns her a credibility few others have, deserving tons of credit for holding out until all the cards fell into place.

It's easy to see why Blume thought she found the ideal filmmaker for the job in writer/director Kelly Fremon Craig, whose 2016's The Edge of Seventeen sensitively covered somewhat similar terrain. And while Margaret isn't quite as strong an effort, it's still one of the few instances where we're not left worrying what an author might think about the result. There's little chance she'd be unhappy with this, aside from the disappointment more didn't go out of their way to see it. But if a coming-of-age dramedy centered around a tween girl set fifty years ago is already an impossible sell for audiences, just think how hard it must have been to get this right.

It's 1970 and after returning from summer camp in New Hampshire, eleven-year-old Margaret Simon (Abby Ryder Forster) is informed by her parents Barbara (Rachel McAdams) and Herb (Benny Safdie) that they're moving from New York City to the New Jersey suburbs due to her dad's job promotion. None too happy about leaving her friends and grandmother Sylvia (Kathy Bates) behind, Margaret tries adjusting, as she's befriended by new neighbor and classmate Nancy Wheeler (Elle Graham). Margaret soon joins Nancy's clique, which consists of two other girls, Gretchen (Katherine Kupferer) and Janie (Amari Alexis Price), and a strict set of membership rules that involve wearing bras and revealing the boys they like. 

When Margaret's sixth grade teacher Mr. Benedict (Echo Kellum) discovers her dislike of religious holidays, she begins questioning her mom about the family's history, which saw Barbara's devoutly Christian parents Paul (Gary Houston) and Mary (Mia Dillon) disown her after marrying a Jewish man. Now, as Barbara drifts further away from her love of painting and teaching by volunteering for various PTA committees, she'll have to unexpectedly confront that issue again. And despite talking to God about her problems on a regular basis, an anxious Margaret is not only confused about her own religious identity, but that other girls are already getting their periods. 

If a move over the bridge from NYC to Jersey doesn't seem like such a big deal, Craig's screenplay already captures the essence of Blume's prose in reminding us how everything that happens at this age feels life altering. It's especially true for the kind, world weary Margaret, who's tuned in enough to be greatly affected, her nerves often accompanied by a deer-in-headlights look recognizable to anyone who's experienced the pangs of adolescence. 

Young actress Abby Ryder Forster is terrific, conveying a likable sincerity while taking the title character on an emotionally rocky journey that ranges from crushing disappointment to inspiring optimism. We're invested in her, but the film's calling card are the cringe worthy interactions she shares with her friends, which are humorously awkward in their frankness, rarely evading the embarrassment of firsts these girls are experiencing. Struggling with her physical maturity and religion, Margaret also questions whether the pushy, overconfident Nancy is a real friend or has some other agenda. As the group's leader, she talks a strong game, but may prove to be just as insecure and scared as the rest. 

A subplot involving Margaret's secret crush on local neighborhood boy Moose (Aidan Wojtak-Hissong) is carefully handled, as is an even smaller arc revolving around shy, physically mature classmate Laura (Isol Young), who's picked on for her appearance. The latter effectively reinforces the theme that sometimes there's just no winning for a girl that age, as there will always be bullies ready to pounce on any perceived imperfections. How Craig navigates these waters to end on the note she does is impressive, as are the more humorous moments, such as an adventure in the drugstore buying sanitary pads. 

Kathy Bates runs away with her scenes as Sylvia, sarcastically joking around the pain she'll soon be alone when the family moves. And after initially not making much of an impression, Benny Safdie subtly humanizes Herb when he's confronted with the daunting challenge of again facing the in-laws who rejected him. But it's Rachel McAdams' performance as Barbara that holds all of this together, delivering a seemingly effortless, believable supporting performance worthy of serious awards consideration.

Quietly carrying the baggage of a mom's fractured relationship with her own parents, McAdams plays  Barbara as overprotective but supportive of Margaret, realizing she needs to give this girl enough room to discover, succeed, and fail on her own. She's so natural that this seems less like a role, but a glimpse into how parents sometimes wear masks to meet the challenges of raising a child, even one as good as Margaret. Inhabiting this free-spirited personality, the actress even turns Barbara's obsessive people pleasing into something sadder and more selfless, almost as a means to disappear. McAdams may have been flying under the radar of late, but this is some of her strongest work yet, reminding us just how much she's capable of.

There are two concurrent stories running at once with Margaret, and while they don't seamlessly congeal, both are well handled. More importantly, Craig's script has a voice that not only harkens back to the decade it's set with costuming and music, but also coming-of-age movies from the 80's and 90's, carving out a nice little niche that should still carry appeal for those outside the target demographic. A smart, authentically performed effort that gets a lot of small details right, it's a worthy accompaniment to the source material, deftly handling all the uncomfortable aspects of growing up that made Blume's book a generational touchstone.                                                

Game Night

Directors: John Francis Daley and Jonathan Goldstein
Starring: Jason Bateman, Rachel McAdams, Kyle Chandler, Billy Magnussen, Sharon Horgan, Lamorne Morris, Kylie Bunbury, Jesse Plemons, Michael C. Hall, Danny Huston, Chelsea Peretti
Running Time: 100 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Getting a big boost from a clever script that takes some unexpectedly twisted and darkly inspired turns, it's unlikely anyone would walk away from Game Night dissatisfied. And that's exactly how it should be. While this doesn't reinvent the comedy wheel, it  accomplishes what few recent comedies have in delivering a fun time without being burdened by qualifiers that it's overlong or makes boneheaded decisions along the way. Carried by a ridiculously talented cast, it takes a reasonably high concept comedic premise and just runs with it, offering the reassurance that everyone involved knows exactly what they're doing. As it turns out, they do.

When super-competitive gamers Max (Bateman) and Annie (Rachel McAdams) meet during trivia night at a bar, it's love at first sight, as the two begin dating and then marry, bonding over their shared obsession with winning. This is exemplified by their traditional weekend "game night" with friend Ryan (Billy Magnussen) and spouses Kevin (Lamorne Morris) and Michelle (Kylie Bunbury). Excluded is creepy, socially awkward cop next door, Gary (Jesse Plemons), who's been uninvited from the festivities ever since his wife left him and is desperately looking to get back in. But when Max's extremely successful and charming brother Brooks (Kyle Chandler) reappears on the scene, it causes his lifelong feelings of inadequacy (as well as his inability to conceive a child with Annie) to bubble to the surface.

Looking to once again show up Max, Brooks plans to take game night to a whole new level, staging an elaborate interactive role-playing mystery at his new pad that the participants won't soon forget. The winning prize: His Corvette Stingray. But when things get out of hand, and the line separating what's a game and an actual kidnapping starts to blur, the players must band together to save Brooks and somehow find a way to escape with their lives intact.

What makes all of this work is its premise, or rather co-directors John Francis Daley (best known for playing Sam on Freaks and Geeks) and Jonathan Goldstein's commitment to keeping the characters and viewers in the dark about what's happening. There are moments in the script where you confidently assume the unfolding events have to be "part of the game," yet you're still not completely sure. The uneasiness surrounding that, and each of the major players' reactions to the escalating crisis, permeate every scene, making for some great comedic exchanges.

Each character seems to have a relatable quirk that's exploited with every catastrophe, allowing the night's "mystery" to act as the perfect platform for their faults. The movie wastes no time, from an ingenious board game-style opening credit sequence that lets us know everything about Max and Annie within minutes, leading right into the "game night" concept. He's insecure. She's hyper-competitive. Brooks is an attention whore so in love with himself that this interactive mystery theater could only be his idea. And with the arrival an "FBI Agent" at the door, we're off to the races.

If you're searching for a comedic or dramatic actor who makes everything around him better by simply being there and logically, matter-of-factly existing as a surrogate voice for the audience, few are better than the largely unheralded Jason Bateman. And you could argue none are as reliable, knowing when you see his name atop the credits he'll deliver exactly what you want and expect, regardless of whether the project itself happens to disappoint. And it definitely doesn't here. Of course, the argument against him is that he always plays the same put-upon straight man. Aside from that being entirely disproven with darker turns in The Gift, Disconnect and his recent best ever work in Netflix's Ozark, I'd still argue variations of that lane is all he needs since it's such an easily adaptable one across all genres.

Bateman's normalcy makes those around him seem scarier, funnier and more entertaining than they would have otherwise been opposite someone else. Ceding the spotlight so co-stars can reap the rewards, no one can look as befuddled, grimace in disgust or dryly deliver a sarcastic dig quite like he can. If the quintessential small screen example of his comedic skills are are found in Arrested Development, then Game Night might stand as his best recent big screen offering of it.

Nearly every sub-plot and one-liner lands, logically furthering a plot that's probably better mapped out that it had any right being. While it's arguable the mere casting of Bateman and Chandler as feuding brothers is enough to carry this, it's surprising how many other elements click into place and manage to play just as well. If only occasionally given the chance to show it in other projects, Rachel McAdams can be devastatingly funny when she needs to be and here she's given the opportunity opposite Bateman to utilize that timing. They bounce off each other so well that they're the rare screen couple that are even funnier when they're in total agreement because their personalities are so competitively obnoxious, yet strangely compatible. They play the whole thing straight, forging forward to win despite obvious signs this isn't a game. Or is it? To these two everything may as well be, which make them the perfect victims/players.   

Even running, throwaway gags like Kevin's unhealthy obsession with guessing the identity of Michelle's secret celebrity hookup and the airheaded Ryan wising up and bringing his super-intelligent ringer date, Sarah (Sharon Horgan) into the game, not only provide a decent amount of laughs, but result in extremely satisfying payoffs that enhance the characters. But the character who makes the most impact and sends the the film's entertainment quotient through the roof is Jesse Plemons' creep cop neighbor, Gary, whose obsession with his ex-wife and her "game night" friends make everyone within his vicinity deeply uncomfortable.

Plemons plays this perfectly, which is to say deadly serious, as if he's Hannibal Lecter wondering why no one's invited him to dinner. Just watching the other actors' react to this is a treat in itself, as everything from his stilted body language to monotone delivery imply a complete sociopath. He completely and unflinchingly commits to it, and the film is all the better as a result. While for many there's a certain level of anticipation in seeing Friday Night Lights alum Plemons reunited with Coach Taylor, he and Chandler share maybe about two scenes together. But it's the latter scene in the third act that will grab the most attention because it's just so completely insane. It isn't often you can say you've seen Chandler, Plemons, Bateman and Michael C. Hall all share the screen together at one time and have it exceed even the wildest of expectations.

It's nice to see a comedy that's as smart as the actors appearing in it since the last one to reach that lofty goal was Shane Black's criminally overlooked The Nice Guys. This isn't quite as laugh-out-loud hilarious and subversively clever as that effort, but it succeeds just the same for what it's aiming for. While there likely will be a sequel looming on the horizon, the idea of this concept being expanded isn't something I'd necessarily roll my eyes at provided it's done right and reunites the cast and creative forces that made this work so well. It isn't often you can say a big, mainstream comedy is even worth the trouble of revisiting, but another Game Night actually doesn't seem like such a bad idea.

Spotlight

 
Director: Tom McCarthy
Starring: Mark Ruffalo, Michael Keaton, Rachel McAdams, Liev Schreiber, John Slattery, Stanley Tucci, Brian d'Arcy James, Billy Crudup, Jamey Sheridan
Rating: R
Running Time: 129 min.

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Spotlight is a very specific kind of film in that it's a meat and potatoes procedural that doesn't wallow in emotions or dwell in the moment. Director Tom McCarthy's characters are on a deadline, back when the phrase "on a deadline" was a thing. When it carried a sense of urgency because print journalism was still alive and kicking. For those who remember that phrase, used it, or relished watching characters in movies that did, this story is yours. What it's actually about is another issue altogether, depicting the true events of 2001, when The Boston Globe uncovered a massive child molestation scandal and cover-up within the local Catholic Archdiocese. And it reveals the "how" in painstaking detail. Step-by-step. Witness-by-witness. Clearly and concisely. There's little doubt it's a tight film, but also operating on an entirely different level in depicting where journalism was then as opposed to now. 

It's almost embarrassing to admit how effectively Spotlight takes us back to a simpler time since it dates any writer my age or older who'd agree it doesn't really feel like THAT long ago.  It was back when reporters were given slack to fact check big stories. When those in charge of major publications went to great lengths to insure the information disseminated to the public was accurate. When newspapers were not only trusted and respected, but even wielded some degree of prestige and power. This is essential because if these events occurred now, the entire film could be relegated to a tweet that appears on screen, truthful or not. And make no mistake that Spotlight is first and foremost about uncovering the truth. It's no wonder critics and writers have been going gaga over it since McCarthy's film not only makes this airtight case against these predators, but objectively rallies behind the type of journalism it took to nail them.

In 2001, new editor Marty Baron (Liev Schrieber) joins The Boston Globe, where he'll oversee the Spotlight team, a small group of journalists tasked with writing in-depth, investigative articles that often take months of research before finally going to press. After discovering an earlier Globe column about the Archbishop of Boston's potential knowledge of a priest sexually abusing children and the lawyer who tried prosecuting it, Marty urges editors Robby Robinson (Michael Keaton) and Ben Bradlee Jr. (John Slattery) to have their Spotlight team dig into it. 

Reporters Michael Rezendes (Mark Ruffalo), Sacha Pfeiffer (Rachel McAdams) and Matt Carroll (Brian d'Arcy James), track down and interview key witnesses before discovering that this entire scandal could be larger and travel higher up on the food chain than anyone imagined. But as they inch closer, they must wrestle with not only their own moral conflicts regarding these revelations, but those within the powerful Catholic Church determined to squash the story.

While this is primarily a process movie, it's littered with little moments within that process that transcend that material and turn it into something that cuts deeper. Whether it's the sudden realization by a Globe reporter that pedophiles almost literally live next door or another investigative team member coming face-to-face with a priest all too eager to not only admit his transgressions, but sickly and proudly rationalize them on the record. It's scenes like that, as well as the testimonials from a variety of different victims, witnesses and lawyers that run the gamut in terms of their experiences, giving the film its necessary emotional kick.

It's in the newsroom scenes where information is often gathered without today's unlimited reliance on the internet that will make these reporters' jobs virtually obsolete in only a few years. They go to the library for research. They physically haul books and records down the stairs. Notes are taken with only a pen and paper. For the team, most of whom grew up in this city that feels more like a close-knit neighborhood, they're tasked with exposing the corruption and sin they believed the Catholic Church was there to shelter them from.

Ruffalo's Mike Rezendes is most shaken by the revelations, but thankfully also the most stubborn, pushing lawyer Mitchell Garabedian (well played by Stanley Tucci) for any witnesses or evidence that could break a story that should have theoretically hit the presses years ago. Why it didn't and The Boston Globe's oblivious complicity in that serves to only heighten the film's statement that there's never a shortage of people willing to turn the other cheek for a variety of reasons, regardless of how heinous the crime. 

With a newsroom role that recalls his fantastic turn in Ron Howard's criminally overlooked The Paper, Michael Keaton shines as Robinson, the Spotlight editor torn between his close relationships within the Church, the editorial decisions of a new boss he may not necessarily agree with, and employees who often disagree with him. Keaton plays it straight down the middle, fairly and sensibly, reminding us that while he often excels at crazy, he's as equally skilled at subtlety. If last year was his comeback, now we're starting to reap the rewards. 

Schreiber's performance as Jewish outsider Marty Baron is so quietly commanding and natural it's sometimes easy to forget Barron's even in the room, much less controlling and guiding the entire investigation. We're prepared for a hotshot coming in to tell everyone how to do their jobs, but the actor makes an interesting choice in playing the Globe's new editor as a professional listener entirely cognizant of the fact there are two possible stories you can take to print. Only one will make the necessary impact. 

If the inclusion of John Slattery's Ben Bradlee, Jr. represents one of the picture's many tangent connections to All The President's Men, both the character and performance aren't all that far removed from Mad Men's Roger Sterling, which can never be a bad thing. It's somewhat perplexing that along with Ruffalo, the Academy chose to also honor Rachel McAdams' information-gathering turn as Sacha Pfeiffer with a nomination. It's not that there's anything especially wrong or underwhelming in what she does, but that it's difficult to recall what was done, as she's saddled with what's easily the least developed part of the major players, bringing little more than what's written on the page. If we are doling out an Oscar nod, either Schreiber, Ruffalo or Keaton would have been more worthy candidates.

For journalism junkies, watching this might rank as the cinematic equivalent of biting into a big, juicy steak, and if there are criticisms to be leveled, it's likely to come from more casual moviegoers looking for more sizzle than substance. It's easy to argue McCarthy is so justifiably enamored with the reporting procedures that we have to occasionally remind ourselves what the movie's actually about. And when we do, the realization sets it in that it's still all about journalism and the devolving newspaper industry before anything else. This includes the actual crimes, and at one point, even 9/11, which McCarthy presents as almost an unexpected obstacle on their way to obtaining sealed court documents for their story. Unlike the aforementioned All The President's Men or the more recent Zodiac, this isn't visually memorable or even all that inventively directed, but like both, it succeeds in taking us deep inside the newsroom and along for the ride. That something this flawlessly constructed only suffers when compared to those two behemoths has to be a good sign. In getting its story right, Spotlight proves to be as focused, thorough and determined as its characters.
   

Aloha

Director: Cameron Crowe
Starring: Bradley Cooper, Emma Stone, Rachel McAdams, Bill Murray, John Krasinki, Danny McBride, Alec Baldwin, Jaeden Lieberher, Danielle Rose Russell
Running Time: 105 min.
Rating:  PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

In his 2005 film Elizabethtown, writer/director Cameron Crowe's depressed protagonist infamously attempted to differentiate between a failure and a fiasco. Now, after the disastrous release of his poorly received Aloha, he's probably asking himself that same question. It's not the most promising sign when the biggest question going into a film is whether it's really as bad as everyone says. How can any movie directed by Crowe and starring Bradley Cooper, Emma Stone, Rachel McAdams and Bill Murray be THAT bad? But the truth is that any movie starring or directed by anyone can be, and it still takes an enormous amount of talent and to even do that.

Aloha isn't entirely successful, but it's not a disaster either. Far from it. And it certainly doesn't deserve to end a filmmaker's career, especially considering most of what ends up on screen proves he's still got it, occasional missteps and all. Despite what's been said, this is vintage Crowe, aside from an overly ambitious plot that's unlike anything he's previously done, sometimes to the film's detriment. But what's been lost in all the manufactured controversies is that it also contains one of the best directed scenes of his career, on par with anything from Almost Famous, Jerry Maguire or Say Anything. Unfortunately, the movie it's in is not. This begs the question of whether Crowe's work has really changed at all, or audiences have just grown more cynical, leaving our bright eyed optimism in the 90's, the decade this type of film seems practically enshrined in.

Following a failed stint as an Air Force pilot, military contractor, Brian Gilcrest (Cooper) returns to Hawaii to aid billionaire Carson Welch (Murray) in his efforts to develop land into a space center and launch a privately-funded satellite. He also encounters ex-girlfriend, Tracy (McAdams), who's now married to a pilot of very few words in Woody (John Krasinki), with whom she's raising their two kids, 12 year-old Grace (Danielle Rose Russell) and 9 year-old Mitchell. Brian's liason for the mission is Air Force Captain Alison Ng (Stone), whose sparkling personality and connection to the island's rich spirituality helps smooth things over with the native Hawaiians. As he eventually falls for her, it not only complicates Carson's mission, but Tracy's already shaky marriage as well.

As tempting as it is to describe the almost needlessly ambitious main plot as having something to do with Hawaii and space, all those aforementioned details are required to grasp it. And yet, no amount of them could suffice. It's not that it's convoluted or confusing so much as everything moves so quickly that it's tough to take it all in. Perhaps thankfully, Crowe is more interested in setting than story this time as he spends most of the opening hour drafting a love letter to the Hawaiian culture, drenching us in its mysticism and spirituality. But unlike The Descendants (with which this will most frequently be compared), the location doesn't feel quite as seamless and organic to the story, as Crowe really lays it on thick in the first hour.

If the satellite plot isn't enough of a head-scratcher, try keeping up with Cooper and Stone's characters meeting with Hawaiian sovereignty activist Dennis 'Bumpy' Kanahele, lending an impressive presence as "himself," even if it's his shirt that ends up stealing the show. Crowe should only wish that's the only controversy this film courted, as his casting of Stone as an Air Force pilot who's "half Swedish, one quarter Chinese and one quarter Hawaiian," created a noticeable stir. But let's just call it what it really is: PC nonsense that has little to do with the film's merit or content.

Actors act. That's what they do. And sometimes they even take on roles that are a drastic departure from who they really are. Other than Crowe having Stone's character pointlessly remind everyone of her ethnicity out of what seems like some massive insecurity, it's hardly worth a discussion. But judging from the extreme reaction, you'd think Stone was playing Mickey Rooney's role in Breakfast at Tiffany's. Whitewashing is a problem, but so is the fact that Crowe felt he had to apologize for how he cast his own movie. If anything, his only mistake was writing the character's ethnicity into the script without anticipating a media firestorm. But that's Crowe, completely idealistic in believing audiences would care enough about these characters to drown out the noise and disappear into whatever world he's created. He probably didn't even give a second thought to the implications of Stone's casting and, in a strange way, that's kind of reassuring. 
          
Joining Ione Skye, Kate Hudson and Kirsten Dunst as the latest in a long line of Crowe's Manic Pixie Dream Girls, Stone might be playing the most manic. Given what she's done up to this point, that path does seem right, but watching the opening hour it's hard not to consider Alison Ng one of the more overbearing, hyperactive MPDG's to be experienced in a while. It's easy to see how Brian would be completely put off by her, as are we. But just when the volume is pumped up so high on the character she starts making Dunst's Claire Colburn seem as if she's on depressants, the script, and Stone start to find their groove.

The exact turning point comes during a Hall and Oates dance sequence involving Stone and Bill Murray that's so weirdly compelling you're forced to just surrender to both actors' charms and the pure random absurdity of it. That Murray's supposed to be playing a self-serving, meglomaniacal CEO makes little difference to him, and of course, us. It's impossible to dislike the guy and he knows it, lending an eccentric quality to Carson that makes this nonsensical space plot bearable for at least the scenes he's in.

Bradley Cooper not only comes out of this unscathed, but demonstrating a versatility and charisma in a lead Tom Cruise would seem perfect for fifteen or twenty years prior. Jerry Maguire meets Top Gun meets Silver Linings Playbook would probably be the best way to describe the film, as well as Cooper's work in it. Depending upon how you feel about the idea of the actor starring in that kind of a project, he gets us on Brian's side quickly, rooting for the redemption of a guy who's kind of a self-absorbed jerk. Two big scenes near the end confirm just how smoothly Cooper excels at this, and whatever problems exist within the film, he definitely isn't among them.

Despite what was advertised, this isn't some kind of romantic comedy love triangle in which Brian is torn between Alison and his ex, played by McAdams. That this doesn't at all occur is most refreshing aspect of Crowe's script, as is the treatment of the family Tracy's built with aloof husband, Woody. Everything about their lives is handled so realistically and intelligently you almost want the whole film to be about them. McAdams occupies a different space than we're used to seeing her in on screen, making Tracy seem almost defeated and agitated at her ex's arrival, despite her marital problems being present long before.

In a nearly wordless performance, Krasinki delivers what's probably the best big screen turn of his career thus far as the complicated Woody, whose unpredictable reaction to Brian's arrival flies in the face of what's expected. Everything isn't as simple as an ex-boyfriend arriving to destroy a marriage, and the few scenes Krasinki shares with Cooper are successful for doesn't happen rather than what does.

Only Crowe could could find a way to work David Bowie and Bob Dylan into a space satellite scene and get away with it. Well, maybe he doesn't exactly get away with it. It's about as ridiculous as it sounds, even if you can't help but think the space storyline was the biggest casualty in the editing process, chopped and cut until it made little sense. As usual, Crowe uses his personal playlist as a backdrop to the action, but the best choice might be going with Jonsi again for the score since their We Bought A Zoo collaboration felt as natural a fit for his work as possible without sounding too cloying or whimsical. There's a lot of that same sound here too, as no one could ever accuse Crowe of merely phoning it in with a soundtrack.

The better movie stuck inside Aloha struggling to break free comes through in the last scene, which tops every single minute that came before, lending the film an unexpected emotional pull that nearly toppled me over. Without spoiling it, there's an obvious, conventional resolution you assume will be the last scene, before Crowe pulls back the curtain to reveal the actual finish, which brings the focus back to exactly where it belongs.

Subtly bubbling under the surface the entire time, the picture's most perfectly executed subplot takes center stage in the final few minutes, reaching its logical culmination and knocking us out with the scene we didn't know we wanted until it came. Wordlessly displaying an entire range of emotions in a matter of moments, young actress Danielle Russell provides us with a 30 seconds so astounding it would play well even out of context. But placed in the context of the entire film, it's safe to say Aloha primarily exists just so we can arrive there.

Anyone watching how skillfully Crowe constructs the end would probably assume a masterpiece precedes it. And they'd only be setting themselves up for disappointment. But not as much disappointment as you've heard. If all the doomsday prognosticators are correct in proclaiming Crowe's big screen directorial career over (which it won't be), it's hard to imagine a better, more fitting scene to close it. Neither a failure nor a fiasco, Aloha sits somewhere in between, leaving to our imaginations an alternate version in which everything went right. But that movie wouldn't be nearly as interesting to talk about or revisit. 
       

Midnight in Paris

Director:Woody Allen
Starring: Owen Wilson, Rachel McAdams, Marion Cotillard, Kathy Bates, Adrian Brody, Carla Bruni, Michael Sheen, Alison Pil, Corey Stoll, Tom Hiddleston
Rating: PG-13
Running Time: 94 min.

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Good news for the present. Someday it'll be the past and then people can finally appreciate it. That's essentially the message of Woody Allen's Midnight in Paris, the most financially successful film of his career, and yet another touching on what's emerged as 2011's recurring cinematic theme: Nostalgia. Whether it was the return of the 70's and 80's in Super 8, The Muppets and Drive, a call back to the silent movie era in films like Hugo and The Artist or a warning against the potential danger of living in the past in Young Adult, 2011 truly was the year we wished we could be in any time but 2011. So now it's Woody's turn and it's kind of unfortunate this carries the baggage of being his biggest moneymaker because now everyone will go in expecting something monumental. It isn't, nor does it signal this huge "comeback" you've been hearing about. In fact, Allen will never need a comeback since he's so inconsistent it would be impossible to tell if it happened. With an unmistakable emphasis on quantity over quality over the years, his output is so hit-or-miss it's almost maddening. More frustrating than that though is an inability to point to anything he specifically does wrong, despite the end result often being unremarkable. This is no exception, but at least it's enjoyable, boasts an interesting premise and features one of the better neurotic Allen protagonists. It's a nice, pleasant diversion. But that's about it.

The story centers on Gil Pender (Owen Wilson), a successful Hollywood screenwriter and wannabe novelist vacationing in Paris with his overbearing fiancee Inez (Rachel McAdams) and her wealthy, ultra-conservative parents (Mimi Kennedy and Kurt Fuller). While there, they run into Inez's former flame Paul (Michael Sheen), a pseduo-intellectual blowhard who arrogantly (and inaccurately) lectures them on Parisian art and history. Of course, Inez is smitten with him, which only enhances Gil's inferiority complex. After a night of drinking, Gil wanders the streets and is picked up at midnight by an antique car and driven to a party where he's magically transported to the 1920's. Given an opportunity to interact with major art and literary figures from his favorite era such as F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald (Tom Hiddleston and Alison Pill), Ernest Hemingway (Corey Stoll), Gertrude Stein (Kathy Bates), Cole Porter (Yves Heck) and Pablo Picasso (Marcial Di Fonzo Bo), things get complicated when he falls for Picasso's mistress Adriana (Marion Cotillard). Now he must sort out his present relationship difficulties with Inez and reconcile them with these magical midnight experiences in the past.

Owen Wilson is tremendous in this and maybe the most likable he's been yet in a leading role. He always exudes a goofy charm but here for a change it isn't masked by the sarcasm or smugness of the character he's playing. He's one of those actors we want to like as a comedy lead but because the low brow material he's often chosen it just hasn't come together for him yet. Here it does as he kind of gets to play the same slightly off-kilter, dorky regular guy he has been but in a more sophisticated story and setting. Much of the film's success hinges on how likable, naive and easy to relate to Gil is and Wilson delivers on all fronts, making this one of Allen's more surprisingly inspired casting choices. Beyond seeing Wilson in this type of a role, there isn't a whole lot that necessarily seems fresh, but most of it works anyway, especially the scenes set in the past. The big standout is Corey Stoll, whose movie stealing performance as Ernest Hemingway, however brief, accomplishes the feat of somehow capturing how we'd imagine the author would talk (i.e. exactly how he writes), making it feel authentic rather than a parody. And as Adriana, Marion Cotillard is mesmerizing to the point we'd question why Gil would even want to return to his current life. While the present storyline represents the same old tired Allen material of clearly mismatched lovers fighting all the time, but it's saved by a hilariously bitchy, against type turn by Rachel McAdams and Michael Sheen turning on the sleaze as the ex. Though we're kind of nailed over the head with it, the film's simple message of living for the present is a good one and Allen and Wilson have no problems selling it in the final act.
 
If this seems like an unenthusiastic recommendation that's because it is. The film will probably play best with diehard Woody Allen fans, literary and history buffs and elderly Oscar voters whose fingers are probably ready to fall off right now from checking it off in every possible category it can be nominated for. But it's definitely NOT a giant leap forward creatively for Allen in any way and exactly the same thing he's been doing for the past twenty years but in more international, worldly locations instead of New York. It's kind of disappointing no one's noticed, or if they have, don't seem to care. Maybe that's because he does it well and his movies (even at their worst) tend to be really entertaining in the most harmlessly enjoyable, inoffensive way. So it's a little frustrating when each new Woody Allen picture is treated as this "big event" when nothing he's done since the late 70's or early 80's has lingered in the mind longer than 24 hours after the credits have rolled. This, despite all the praise it's gotten, doesn't either. But it works for what it is. A couple of times in recent years Allen's deviated slightly from his usual template, but not enough to say he's taken any kind of a risk, which could also help explain how he's avoided a steep decline. Midnight in Paris is mildly delightful, but anyone still hoping for that Woody Allen "comeback" might just have to keep waiting.

Morning Glory

Director: Roger Michell
Starring: Rachel McAdams, Harrison Ford, Diane Keaton, Patrick Wilson, Ty Burrell, Jeff Goldblum, John Pankow, Matt Malloy
Running Time: 107 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

In what has to be considered somewhat of a shocker, Harrison Ford gives one of his best performances in years in Morning Glory. Yes, that Harrison Ford. In a comedy. And he's funny. After a decade straight of flops, he finally lands a role worthy of his talents and reminds us how good an actor he can still be with sharp material. It's a shame no one went to see it because I could easily envision Ford's role here eventually appearing on a his career highlight reel and gaining respect as time goes on. It's that good. As for the movie itself, it's essentially a well-executed chick flick about a morning show set against the backdrop of a timely news vs. entertainment debate, but any guy should be relieved if they're forced to watch to it because it's one of the rare good ones. A 90's throwback of sorts, it recalls a time when romantic comedies were smart didn't star Kate Hudson, Katherine Heigl or Jennifer Aniston, and featured characters that were likable and worth rooting for. While this was a surprisingly pleasurable experience, it's easy to see why many stayed away considering it did look awful from the previews and this genre has the worst track record of any. But here is the rare, sophisticated, adult-minded romantic comedy that succeeds in entertaining the audience it's aimed at.

After being laid off from her job at Good Morning New Jersey, plucky, aspiring news producer Becky Fuller (Rachel McAdams) gets the call of her life to join the struggling morning network news show, Daybreak as their new executive producer. With The Today Show, Good Morning America and whatever that other show is on CBS (their words, not mine) crushing it in the ratings, Becky is hired by IBS network suit Jeffrey Barnes (Jeff Goldblum) in a final attempt to revitalize the program and save it from impending cancellation. In dire need of a new co-host for self-centered former beauty queen Colleen Peck (Diane Keaton), Becky finds a clause in the contract of respected veteran IBS newsman Mike Pomeroy (Ford) preventing him from sitting out the remainder of his six-million dollar deal and blackmails him into taking the gig. Unfortunately for Becky and the rest of the show's staff, Pomeroy makes his disgust of "soft news" stories and witty banter abundantly clear, often when the cameras start rolling. His refusal to cooperate puts the show and Becky's already shaky future in further jeopardy, as she tries to fight off her workaholic tendencies long enough to launch a fledgling relationship with another network producer, Adam (Patrick Wilson).

No one could have possibly guessed it would be this fun watching Harrison Ford look miserable. It's so entertaining that at first I just chalked it up to Ford actually being miserable that he's appearing in this film, which wouldn't be a stretch given his recent track record. After a little while though it becomes clear that can't be true since no actor that miserable would be able to give a performance this inspired and Ford has no reason to be cranky or embarrassed about appearing in this. Whether Pomeroy is arguing with his co-host on-air, shooting off a priceless look of disgust when confronted with a fluffy news story, or being mistaken for Dan Rather on the street, Ford never wavers in his portrayal of this unlikable old crank. He shares great chemistry with Keaton in their on-air scenes with both being completely believable as sparring newscasters but real pleasure comes in watching him play off McAdams during Becky's many clumsy attempts to integrate the straight-laced Pomeroy onto the program. This is essentially a one-joke movie but that one joke is hilarious and never comes close to wearing out its welcome because of Ford's comic timing. And when the time comes for Ford to sell a transformation that should seem impossible, he manages to pull that off also, revealing a different dimension to the character.

While it's hard to say Keaton is underutilized in her role, it isn't nearly as essential as Ford's, but that hardly matters since she's great anyway and it's one of the few recent parts she's had that matches her talent. Rachel McAdams is just terrific, effortlessly carrying the entire movie as the lead and putting to shame most of her less talented contemporaries. At first glance it seems as if she's saddled with one of those stereotypical female  rom-com roles, playing a stressed-out busybody whose life is being squashed by her career. To an extent that's true, but she's so ridiculously likable and you hardly stop to notice and the script deserves some credit for not making this about that or having her "choose" between the two. Her relationship with Patrick Wilson's character isn't essential to the plot, which is actually ends up being a relief since it's unobtrusive and handled reasonably without feeling tacked on. Wilson seems to be playing the thankless boyfriend role in every other romantic comedy released these days but it's a credit to him that he hasn't come out of even the dumbest ones looking like a fool.

Anyone criticizing this for being a lightweight comedy rather than a hard hitting social commentary on the television industry like Network or Broadcast News probably needed to adjust their expectations. It definitely won't be winning any awards for its realistic depiction of broadcast journalism, but it may as well be a documentary compared to something like 1996's unintentionally hilarious Up Close and Personal, which was easily the silliest portrayal of the news industry on screen up to this point. This is supposed to be mindless, enjoyable fluff and it is, with the laughs being well-earned by its clever script and the actors, especially Ford, who hasn't been this good in ages. Morning Glory does have a few interesting (if glaringly obvious) things to say about the sorry state of network news, even if some might look for a message that isn't there at the end. Its best aspect is assuming its audience is smart enough not to need one.