The Eyes of Tammy Faye

Director: Michael Showalter
Starring: Jessica Chastain, Andrew Garfield, Cherry Jones, Vincent D'Onofrio, Mark Wystratch, Sam Jaeger, Louis Cancelmi, Gabriel Olds, Fredric Lehne, Jay Huguley, Grant Owens, Randy Havens
Running Time: 126 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

When Jessica Chastain won the Best Actress Oscar for 2021's The Eyes of Tammy Faye, her victory  elicited one of two reactions. Either that she was already owed statues for Zero Dark Thirty and The Tree of Life, or maybe more cynically, it extended the Academy's streak of awarding actors for playing a real life figure in a by-the-numbers biopic. And bonus points if it's an attractive star undergoing some kind of massive physical transformation like Charlize Theron in Monster. Michael Showalter's film (based on Fenton Bailey's 2000 documentary of the same name) proves that all these assumptions can be true at once, as the deservedly honored Chastain triumphs while buried under mountains of face paint and prosthetics as enigmatic televangelist Tammy Faye Bakker. 

For Academy voters known for crowning the most and biggest acting, the thought of Chastain tackling the disgraced Tammy Faye had to be a dream come true, even as audiences resisted. Without digging too deeply, the picture moves through key events at a breakneck pace that makes you wonder why it wasn't green lighted as a limited series in the vein of Hulu's The Dropout (of which Showalter directed episodes). But with more than a few tricks up his sleeve, this is as straight down the middle as a biopic can be in chronologically hitting its marks, with the leads physically and emotionally capturing two controversial figures in all their bluster, flamboyance, and superficiality. The last descriptor is  important in reconciling how one half of this couple comes off substantially more flawed than their partner, flying in the face of most of our preconceived notions about their story.  

It's 1960 when Tammy Faye LaValley (Chastain) meets Jim Bakker (Andrew Garfield) are both attending North Central Bible College in Minneapolis, Minnesota. To her mother Rachel's (Cherry Jones) disapproval, they drop out of college shortly thereafter to get married and begin preaching in Christian communities across the country. This catches the attention of televangelist Pat Robertson (Gabriel Olds) who hires them as hosts of their own children's show, "Jim and Tammy," on his Christian Broadcasting Network. But as Jim ascends to hosting CBN's "The 700 Club," Tammy clashes with conservative pastor Jerry Falwell (Vincent D'Onofrio) over her support of the gay community. 

Following the birth of their first child, the Bakkers go out on their own in 1974, creating the PTL Satellite Network, where they have free reign to control the programming content. As "The PTL Club" emerges as an enormously successful flagship show and ratings juggernaut, questions soon surface in the press about their finances and numerous allegations of abuse and extra marital affairs. With the empire they built from the ground up suddenly crumbling around them, Tammy takes refuge in prescription pills, fighting to save her reputation, career and marriage from the brink of irrelevancy. 

Depending on perspective, the film's either giving us a condensed, cliff's notes version of pivotal events in the trajectory of Tammy Faye and Jim's unraveling, or a tight, linear plot that hits all the important notes in an economical fashion. For much of the time it feels like the latter, as Showalter lets Chastain and Garfield loose, inhabiting young, likable idealistic dreamers who veer wildly off course when they conflate their desire to spread the good word with an insatiable appetite for money and fame. What's interesting about this is how Tammy really doesn't change or grow from when Jim meets her as this sweet, bubbly, Betty Boop-voiced innocent whose strict, overbearing mother would tell her little girl she's headed for hell. Tammy held on to this, but flipped it, vowing instead to spread love, kindness and compassion through her and Jim's ministry. 

National TV exposure is both the best and worst thing that happens to them, but mostly the latter, as Showalter does a strong job showing these two literally falling in love with the idea of themselves as celebrities. This leads to some of the film's best sequences, as the charismatic pair have audiences hanging on their every word, with Laura Fox's production design only further accentuating the garish 70's and 80's circus atmosphere of the programs. That the film's look reinforces the narrative's ideas is one of its many charms, even as we fasten our seat belts and await the big crash. Seamlessly merging actual footage with fictional scenes shot in the same throwback style, it's often difficult to tell where  fiction ends and reality begins for the couple. In studio scenes of their show's production carry almost an SNL spoof quality to them, such as a brief, but delightful recreation of a Colonel Sanders (Grant Owens) interview. 

That Tammy Faye remains who she is and always was makes her a worthier subject for study than the less complicated, more insincere and volatile Jim. She's portrayed as a guiding force who isn't without admirable qualities, which Chastain nicely balances with some of the louder aspects of Tammy's larger-than-life personality. Never the conformist, she stands up to Falwell, loudly rejecting the church's stance on homosexuality, believing that the exclusion of anyone flies in the face of everything they should stand for. This is prominently displayed in a sequence when she publicly supports a Christian pastor suffering from AIDS on the show, to Falwell's disgust. He'll eventually extract his revenge since Jim's immoral and illegal activities make him almost too easy a mark for the Baptist preacher.

Tammy's affair with music producer Gary Paxton (Mark Wystrach) is highlighted as the opening shot that demolishes the Bakker's careers and marriage, but unbeknownst to her, Jim's been behaving far worse and for much longer. It's his hubris that sinks the ship, and if Chastain's physical metamorphosis into Tammy has garnered much of the attention, there are points where it seems Garfield's wearing just as many layers of makeup and prosthetics as she is. But regardless of that, he gets Jim just right, turning on the charm with the warm, welcoming smile that never seems to leave his illuminated face, even when lying through his teeth. 

Though it's an odd comparison, the pacing, tone and style here is what we should have gotten from Marielle Heller's underwhelming 2019 Mr. Rogers biopic, A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, which attempted to explore a far different TV personality. But that couldn't quite get inside the show's production the way this does, immersing modern viewers in what the experience of watching it would have been. Wrongly worried that Rogers wouldn't be exciting enough a protagonist for his own story, they put the focus on a depressed journalist instead. There's no such issue with Tammy Faye, whom Chastain dynamically plays with a great capacity for goodness that's misdirected and overridden by greed and poor judgment. That such a scandal would generate far fewer headlines in today's overcrowded news cycle of moral depravity might be the saddest indictment of all. Back then, the media was beginning to perfect their sensationalizing and Tammy's implosion was an early case study, setting the stage for the rest who would follow.

A post script at the film's end serves as a harsh, ironic reminder that Jim not only outlived Tammy, but somehow caused even more trouble in the years following his release from prison. But it's telling that she's the one still talked about well over a decade after her death, saying something for perseverance and survival instinct. She eventually chose more respectable avenues for expressing her love of singing and the church. moving away from controversy. Showalter gives Tammy kinder treatment than she probably deserves, but it isn't inaccurate, with Chastain circumventing the many facets of a woman who, for better or worse, lapped up her time in the spotlight.                          

Jurassic World

Director: Colin Trevorrow
Starring: Chris Pratt, Bryce Dallas Howard, Vincent D'Onofrio, Nick Robinson, Ty Simpkins, B.D. Wong, Irrfan Khan, Jake Johnson, Lauren Lapkus, Judy Greer, Katie McGrath 
Running Time: 124 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

It always seemed the one lost opportunity in Steven Spielberg's Jurassic Park trilogy was actually setting the action in a fully functioning amusement park filled with people. You'd think adding that element of unpredictable danger to the plot could only heighten the stakes and danger. The entire amusement park concept has been gestating so long that we figured Spielberg must have been saving it for a sequel. Then 15 years passed. And now after sitting in development hell for almost two decades the franchise is resurrected with Jurassic World and the timing strangely seems just right for that big money storyline. Amidst an overcrowded field full of unnecessary remakes, reboots, sequels and prequels, this is the one that feels closest to being necessary because we never really got what we came for.

Despite unleashing a story that was a long time coming and injecting it with a meta subplot that pokes fun at the film's very existence, there were still a number of things that could have gone wrong. Poor casting, the wrong choice of director, bad GCI, a lackluster 3D conversion or an uninspired script could have easily sunk it. Instead, Safety Not Guaranteed director Colin Trevorrow delivers the type of ridiculously fun, pulse-pounding Spielberg-era thrill ride that even Spielberg himself can't seem to make anymore, or at least has chosen to move past after inspiring inferior imitations. This isn't one of them.

Twenty-two years after the horrific incident at Jurassic Park, Jurassic World is open for business and the park's operations manager, Claire Dearing (Bryce Dallas Howard) wants it to make as much money as humanly possible. A corporate ice queen, she brushes the park's sordid history under the rug as she unveils her newest attraction: a genetically modified Indominus rex dinosaur sponsored by Verizon. Inconvenienced by the recent arrival of her sister's (Judy Greer) kids, Zach and Gray (Nick Robinson and Ty Simpkins) to the park, she merely dumps them on her assistant for the day as Velociraptor trainer Owen Grady (Chris Pratt) is called in to evaluate the Indominus enclosure before opening. You could probably guess that what unfolds next is a crisis that makes the first three films look like child's play. It's up to Owen and Claire to contain it before lives in the park are lost, including their own.         

There's an early scene where a control room character played by Jake Johnson is showing off the vintage Jurassic Park shirt he won on e-bay, lamenting when the park used to be all about experiencing the wonder of a dinosaur. Now everything has to be bigger and more over-the-top. It's all about the money. While obviously referring to the Indominus attraction, he may as well have been talking about movies, particularly the one we're watching. But Jurassic World fully acknowledging forthcoming criticisms and actively poking fun at itself doesn't make it a good movie, nor should it. What does is the excitement generated on screen, since we're really there to see the dinosaurs wreck havoc.

Trevorrow wastes little time introducing us to the fully functioning theme park, which looks like a Sea World and Disney World hybrid with some surprisingly cool rides and features that seem believable within the confines of the fantasy world Spielberg initially created. As fast as the pace is, there is a considerable amount of time spent building up the first full-on appearance of the Indominus, which doesn't disappoint. It's definitely not Jaws in terms of impactfully limited screen time, but by today's impatient filmmaking standards, Trevorrow's approach is practically restrained.

Much to my relief, the CGI actually looks pretty good, as far as those go, rarely distracting from the action or story. It's also filled with some clever winks and nods throughout the park that let us know this is very much a continuation of the 1993 original and the sequels may as well not exist. Thankfully, John Williams' instantly recognizable, iconic score (the best of his storied career) still does, even if you could quibble with where it lands in the film and how quickly. But at least it's there, which was one of my big worries going in.

With employees clashing over their differing philosophies for the park, it's a given that the uptight Claire and cocky Owen will be brought together by the Indominus escape as she finally learns to care about something other than her job, namely her missing nephews. Her profit-driven approach starkly contrasts with owner Simon Masrani (Irrfan Khan), whose chief concerns are the enjoyment and safety of the guests. While both are seriously compromised by Claire's greed, InGen security head Vic Hoskins (Vincent D'Onofrio) is intent on militarizing the dinosaurs as government weapons, crreating an interesting Blackfish-like sub-plot about the humans' control over these creatures. This plays better than expected, with an inexplicably limping, head-tilting D'Onofrio throwing his weight around with the kind of bizarre performance only he could conjure up.

The casting is actually quite creative all-around, avoiding the same four or five names of actors and actresses who usually headline these blockbusters. Chris Pratt will soon likely be one of them, but for now we're still finding out what he can do and what's most surprising about his role is how humorless it is. More Indiana Jones than Han Solo. "Jurassic Parks and Rec" this isn't, as the former Andy Dwyer has to play it mostly straight in order to ground an already far out there plot.

If this is Pratt's Indy audition, he passes with flying colors, and despite being a longtime fan of the actor's work, he quelled most of my concerns that going this route would be a complete misuse of his talents. Instead, the action hero thing seems to suit him just fine and in his scenes opposite Howard he does manage to slide in some of the trademark sarcastic charm and charisma that got him here. He'll probably be cast in everything now, but if it has to be someone, at least it's Pratt, whose sheer likability and presence lifts this kind of material further than it would have otherwise gone.

While Pratt does exactly what's asked of him and surpasses expectations, he is still playing a one-dimensional hero opposite Bryce Dallas Howard's more intriguing character. When was the last time a money hungry, stuck-up corporate suit was the centerpiece of a summer action movie? Howard's always been consistently strong in various projects until disappearing for a while, only to now reemerge four years later in the last movie you'd expect to see her headline. And what a comeback it is, walking right up to that line of playing Claire as an unlikable bitch without ever stepping over it. As a result, the transition she makes to action heroine in the film's second half seems all the more seamless and reasonable, proving her an actress adept at rapidly shifting gears. In an effects driven project that too often relegates performers to window dressing, her performance is remembered. She's really playing two roles, each equally well.

Trevorrow was hired to do a job in which the understanding was he'd be relinquishing a lot of creative freedom. Yet within those parameters, he managed to slide his own vision in there to create something that feels like his rather than a tired retread. One can only hope that similar steps are taken when reviving other dormant franchises ripe for a reimagining or continuation of some kind. This is exactly the story that needed to be told in order to both honor the Spielberg film and move on from it. The final half hour featuring an epic dinosaur confrontation can compete in both scale and thrills with anything from the original. Rarely overstaying its welcome at a brisk two hours, it also features one of the few uses of 3D in recent years that at least seems defensible given the nature of the plot.           

It's funny how some critics have taken Jurassic World to task, making me wonder exactly what they expected or how it could have possibly been improved. It's everything a Summer blockbuster should be and a little more, which may represent the true root of their problem. For all the talk of the film's theme park being nothing more than a cash grab, the movie gets its job done by mocking exactly that, exploiting our fears that the wonder from the original can't be recaptured. The bigger question is why we'd want it to, especially when this sequel is such a worthy successor in its own right.