One Battle After Another

Director: Paul Thomas Anderson
Starring: Leonardo DiCaprio, Sean Penn, Benicio del Toro, Regina Hall, Teyana Taylor, Chase Infiniti, Wood Harris, Alana Haim, Paul Grimstad, Shayna McHayle, Tony Goldwyn, John Hoogenakker, Starletta DuPois, Eric Schweig, D.W. Moffett, Kevin Tighe, Jim Downey, James Raterman, Dijon Duenas 
Running Time: 162 min.
Rating: R

**The Following Review Contains Plot Spoilers**

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

With a few masterpieces already under his belt, many assumed Paul Thomas Anderson had nothing further to prove, his recent projects merely reaffirming what most of the filmmaker's hardcore fanbase always knew. And while incapable of a total misstep, we've accepted the fact he keeps carving out his own cinematic arthouse niche of sorts. That's why the notion any Anderson project could carry mainstream appeal, capture the cultural zeitgeist or take place in contemporary times always seemed absurd, even for our greatest director. It became less about whether he could do it than if he'd ever really want to. But all that doubt comes to end with One Battle After Another, an explosive departure miles removed from anything he's previously done. 

A strangely accessible crowd pleaser, it opens with enough timely parallels to have us worrying what's ahead, before taking a more personal, affecting turn matched only by its darkly twisted sense of humor. Very loosely adapted from Thomas Pynchon's 1990 novel Vineland, it's also about as unfilmable as the author's similarly challenging Inherent Vice, which Anderson tackled with lukewarm results. Only now he's cracked the code, giving this enough of an overhaul that it's completely unrecognizable from the source material. What he does retain are its themes and ideas, brought to vivid life by a handful of brilliant performances from actors both new and familiar. The film doesn't sneak up on you so much as throw a live hand grenade in your lap, with scenes that should continue replaying in viewers' minds long after the experience ends. 

"Ghetto" Pat Calhoun (Leonardo DiCaprio) and Perfidia Beverly Hills (Teyana Taylor) are members of the far-left revolutionary group, the French 75, breaking out detained Mexican immigrants from California's Otay Mesa Detention Center. During the raid, Perfidia encounters and sexually assaults officer Steven J. Lockjaw (Sean Penn), who enjoys this a little too much, especially once he realizes he can use her to his advantage. So when Perfidia abandons Pat and their newborn baby Charlene to dive headfirst into her activism, she's caught by Lockjaw, who cuts her a deal to rat out the rest. But she soon disappears from witness protection while Pat and Charlene go on the run.

Flash forward sixteen years and Pat and Charlene are now living off the grid in a sanctuary city under the aliases of Bob and Willa Ferguson (Chase Infiniti). With Bob now a paranoid stoner overprotective of his free-spirited teen daughter, Lockjaw has since moved up the government ranks. He's also aiming to join the exclusive, far-right white supremacist group, the Christmas Adventurers Club, so long as a disqualifying secret from his past doesn't come to light. But when a burnt out Bob realizing Willa's been targeted, he desperately tries to find her as a deadly cat-and-mouse game ensues with his former nemesis.

The story really starts cooking with gas after the time jump, though you could argue it happens earlier when a ferociously determined Perfidia first encounters slimy commanding officer Lockjaw. To an extent, they're both using each other, as she wields her sexuality as a weapon after recognizing his interest, which immediately borders on obsession. And it isn't long before he realizes the advantage he holds over her and the revolutionaries as a result.

There's a twisted, toxic psychological game playing out between Perfidia and Lockjaw that has us questioning whether they actually have feelings for each other or he's exaggerated the relationship in his delusional mind. And though we're never completely sure, these questions prove the film's far more interested in exploring the complicated motivations of its characters than inciting political debate.

Mayhem unfolds when a washed-up Bob gets the dreaded distress call that his local karate champion daughter is in danger, confirming the reality of his stoned out paranoia. And while he's prepared Willa for this moment, it's tough for the teen to take her kook of a dad seriously, especially since he's high as a kite, prone to irrational outbursts and perpetually clad in a beanie, bathrobe and oversized shades. 

While frequently mislabeled a "comedy," the film does have an extended stretch that undeniably qualifies, as Bob hilariously attempts to extract intel from the resistance without the required password his brain's too fried to remember. DiCaprio's in top form here alongside an effortlessly cool Benicio del Toro as Willa's Sensei, Sergio St. James, a community leader and immigrant smuggler who facilitates a deliriously entertaining escape. 

This isn't Sergio's first rodeo and it's a thrill watching how Anderson frames all the chaos around this beer-drinking zen hero who hardly breaks a sweat, remaining completely calm and controlled in the face of Bob's emotional breakdown. Of course, Bob screws everything up anyway, but that hardly matters with Sensei able to pick up the pieces, dust the ex-freedom fighter off and steer him in the right direction.

Teyana Taylor owns the first 30 minutes as the intimidating and vulnerable Perfidia, but after exiting, her past actions continue to inform the rocky father-daughter relationship between Bob and Willa. But what's more amazing is how much DiCaprio and Chase Infiniti manage to convey with their limited screen time together. In just a couple of minutes we can tell why Willa's been shielded from certain details, both for her own safety and to ease Bob's guilty conscience. They also let us look past the bickering to recognize how much they care for each other, especially in moments where you'd mistake Willa as the parent, trying to reign in her unhinged dad. She's also underestimated, which is about to change once the French 75's exhausted, but fiercely loyal Deandra (Regina Hall) takes her into hiding. 

The one mistake Perfidia can't erase is the deplorable Colonel Lockjaw, played by a phenomenal Sean Penn in one of his weirdest, creepiest turns. With a goofy haircut and stilted gait, he's the walking embodiment of every self-hating loser given too much power or authority. Each mannerism, line delivery and facial tick induce shivers, as Penn plays him with a Napoleon complex so frighteningly recognizable that he's constantly walking this tightrope between cowardice and egomania. 

It's only logical a covert cabal of wealthy white supremacists would view the sleazy Lockjaw as their ideal recruit, just as he'd make it his life's mission to join, tempted by the promise of being considered "superior." This leads to the unforgettable mid-film meeting in which the Christmas Adventurers' leader Virgil Throckmorton (Tony Goldwyn) reveals their newest prospect is instead a liability marked for elimination by the club's seemingly innocuous, Patagonia vest wearing hitman Tim Smith (John Hoogenakker). And Anderson presents this secret organization is terrifying in its everyday casualness, as the blaring holiday music and polite exchange of pleasantries only make their eventual discussion that much more disturbing.  

Once Willa realizes that she's the loose end Lockjaw needs tied, it's flight or fight mode from here on out, with the film's sensational second half belonging to a revelatory Infiniti, who channels Willa's fear, angst and sadness into a struggle for survival. Going toe-to-toe in an intense verbal and physical showdown with Penn, Infiniti portrays her as an endless well of resourcefulness as insurmountable danger looms. It'll culminate in a Bullitt-inspired car chase unlike any sequence we've recently seen on screen, with Anderson hypnotically shooting the three vehicles over the rolling hills of California's desert highway as if we're on a dizzying rollercoaster simulator. The risk of a crash or flip keeps the stressful, elegantly edited sequence humming until the distance between cars closes and a believably executed payoff comes. And what a clever one it is, revealing the depth of Willa's ingenuity, as well as the justifiable doubts and suspicion that linger even after she survives the most traumatizing of threats. 

The film's final coda is about as strong as endings come, arriving after this jaw dropping twist that sees a character finally get his comeuppance from those just as equally evil. And while Jonny Greenwood's pounding score underlines the unsettling action, Anderson also delivers a pair of unexpected needle drops so effective it that takes a beat to properly recognize songs we've heard countless times, just never in this context. But now it's impossible to ever hear them the same way again, especially one that propels Willa into the next stage of her life's journey. 

Though its story centers around revolutionaries and their failed attempts to escape the past, it's the familial through line that gives this exhilarating film its heart and soul, sucking them down a wormhole of paranoia and conspiracies. It also marks the rare instance where moving a book's period setting into the modern era actually pays off, lending an immediacy to these events that could only derive from its timing. Debate will ensue where it ranks in Anderson's filmography, but you have to believe it's up there, as he pulls off a feat even his biggest supporters didn't think he had in him.          

Roofman

Director: Derek Cianfrance
Starring: Channing Tatum, Kirsten Dunst, LaKeith Stanfield, Juno Temple, Peter Dinklage, Ben Mendelsohn, Uzo Aduba, Emory Cohen, Melonie Diaz, Molly Price, Lily Collias, Kennedy Moyer, Alissa Marie Pearson, Tony Revolori
Running Time: 126 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)   

In Derek Cianfrance's Roofman, we get a nostalgic glimpse inside a Toys "R" Us as it existed in the early to mid 2000's, filled with aisles of DVDs, video games and stuffed animals as far as the eye can see. And it's a safe bet even younger viewers unfamiliar with the store will still be equally amazed and perplexed by this unusual setting for a film. So it only stands to reason that the idea of actually living in one for six months would fulfill the wishes of a certain generation of kids who all identified with the company's philosophy of never growing up.

Unfortunately, that doesn't work as well as an adult, especially if you're scouring the shelves for junk food, relying on a Spider-Man sleeping bag for comfort and lacking a shower or any meaningful human contact. And there's nothing like being slapped with the harsh reality that even our most beloved stores employ incompetent managers handcuffed (or zip tied) by crippling corporate policies. While it beats being homeless, a wanted fugitive can't stay in one place for long, making this extremely likable protagonist's dilemma a sort of karmic comeuppance for years' worth of irreversible mistakes.

It's 1998 and divorced U.S. Army veteran Jeffrey Manchester (Tatum) is resented by ex-wife Talana (Melonie Diaz) and struggling to provide for his three kids, seemingly hitting a dead end in life. But after extracting the wrong message from a conversation with friend and former sergeant Steve's (LaKeith Stanfield), Jeffrey utilizes his military skills to rob multiple McDonald's restaurants by breaking through the roof overnight. Unusually apologetic and polite to the morning crew of employees, he garners national media attention as the "Roofman" before eventually being caught and sentenced to 45 years.

Seamlessly escaping prison in 2004, but with a manhunt underway, Jeffrey finds refuge inside a Charlotte Toys "R" Us, disabling security cameras, ransacking shelves for candy and finding an inconspicuous spot to sleep. After noticing employee and single mom Leigh (Kirsten Dunst) having problems with inflexible store manager Mitch (Peter Dinklage), he secretly intervenes before stealing toys for her church's toy drive. Dating Leigh under the guise of New Yorker "John Zoran" he even connects with her daughters Lindsay (Lily Collias) and Dee (Kennedy Moyer). But the closer Jeffrey gets, the more likely he's caught, ending this relationship for good.      

The real kicker is how Jeffrey doesn't exactly fit the profile of your typical armed robber, even when he superficially seems to. He's failed as a husband, fears he's disappointing his kids and probably has a story similar to other incarcerated individuals who took up crime as a last resort. But the key difference lies in how acutely aware he is of his shortcomings, never losing the desire to prove he's someone his family can rely on. 

Even clad in black clothes and a ski mask, Jeffrey's guilty conscience betrays him by how well he treats his petrified McDonald's hostages. And when the police do catch up with him, all he can think about in prison is getting out, naively hanging on to the hope he can just return home and start over, despite his young daughter watching him get tackled and arrested on her birthday. And it's that motivation pushing him to orchestrate a prison break smooth enough for The Shawshank Redemption's Andy Dufresne to wonder where he went wrong. 

Some of the most entertaining scenes involve Jeffrey's tricks to avoid detection inside the Toys "R" Us, at least for a while. He even starts to have fun, until the temptation to get involved becomes too great, unconventionally affording him a second chance built on one giant lie. But his feelings for Leigh and her kids are genuine, even as he continues to put them in danger, hoping they won't get hurt when the fallout comes. 

In one of the best performances of his career, Tatum plays to his understated everyman strengths, projecting a charm and harmless sincerity that immediately puts viewers in the palm of his hand as he  juggles lightweight comedy with more emotional drama. While we understand why strangers would embrace this guy without question, Tatum's biggest feat is in getting us to empathize with Jeffrey regardless of his criminal indiscretions. We dread his eventual capture not for the consequences he'll inevitably face, but all that lost potential.

Sharing an effortless chemistry with Tatum, Dunst completely gives herself over as the trusting, feisty Leigh, who's trying to recover from her own failed marriage, if only for the sake of her two daughters, the eldest of which couldn't be moodier. For Leigh, "John" is too good to be true, mostly because she's only seen what he's shown her, however real those feelings are. As Mitch, Dinklage gives one of the more eerily accurate portrayals of a prickly retail manager, right down to his sarcastic asides and passive-aggressive criticisms. It's kind of scary just how well he nails this character, who only shows his true vulnerabilities when the going gets tough. 

Nearly every sub-plot works, whether it's Jeffrey's interactions at the church, his wild attempts to bond with Leigh's daughters or a side story involving hapless Toys "R" Us employee Otis' (Emory Cohen) inability to stand up for himself. If there's a head scratching character, it's Stanfield's Steve, who's constantly passing judgment on his friend, which would fine if he wasn't hypocritically running a criminal enterprise himself. Even worse, all his advice only leads to more trouble for Jeffrey and a coincidentally huge bill for help. 

All of this can only end one way, with Jeffrey pulling off a final heist to earn the kind of freedom he's not sure he wants or deserves. It also brings him face-to-face with some of the messier consequences his choices cause, as Cianfrance and co-writer Kirt Gunn flip this unbelievably true story on its head to mine thematic gold. But much of that can be attributed to Tatum, who has us rooting for his affable character to somehow turn things around, as increasingly unlikely as that may seem.                                       

Black Phone 2

Director: Scott Derrickson
Starring: Mason Thames, Madeleine McGraw, Ethan Hawke, Demián Bichir, Jeremy Davies, Miguel Mora, Arianna Rivas, Anna Lore, Graham Abbey, Maev Beaty, James Ransone
Running Time: 114 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)    

To its credit, Black Phone 2 doesn't take the easy way out, with director Scott Derrickson resisting the urge to retrace the steps of his creepy original by instead taking things in an entirely different direction. No longer working from Joe Hill's short story on which the first film was based, it utilizes the author's idea for a follow-up, creating a worthy next chapter that expands the Grabber's universe beyond what we previously assumed. Echoing themes from A Nightmare on Elm Street while incorporating a frigid, desolate setting that recalls The Shining, it leans further into the supernatural by suggesting death was just the beginning for this killer looking to finish what he started.

Most horror films avoid fleshing out a backstory for their villain since it's difficult coming up with an idea that doesn't diminish our fear of the unknown. Here, Derrickson takes a risk by actually giving evil a name and past while the surviving characters he terrorized struggle to move past their trauma. And now that he's phoning back from beyond, there's no choice but to answer, as the lines separating dreams from reality get even blurrier. 

It's 1982 and four years have passed since Finney Blake (Mason Thames) killed his abductor, the masked murderer known as the Grabber (Ethan Hawke). Burying his emotional pain by constantly fighting at school, younger sister Gwen (Madeleine McGraw) is having nightmares about a series of brutal murders that took place at Alpine Lake Camp in 1957, where their deceased mother once worked as a counselor. Despite dad Terrence's (Jeremy Davies) objections, she obsesses over finding answers, convincing Finney and classmate Ernesto (Miguel Mora) to travel with her to the camp. 

Upon arriving, a blizzard traps the three there with camp supervisor Armando (Demián Bichir), his niece Mustang (Arianna Rivas) and skeptical employees Kenneth (Graham Abbey) and Barbara (Maev Beaty) But when mysterious calls start coming from an abandoned, inoperative pay phone and Gwen's disturbing nightmares worsen, they realize the Grabber may have been responsible for the 1952 murders of those  campers. Only he's back, entering Gwen's dreams to get revenge on Finney. To stop him they'll need to locate the victims' bodies, in the process uncovering frightening truths about the Grabber's past. 

While the last film took place almost entirely within the confines of a darkened basement and revolved around a simple, straightforward premise, it did have an unmistakable look and feel Derrickson used to invoke a sense of oncoming dread. Here, his sequel ups the ante, and if it's become a running joke that horror killers never really die, he and co-writer C. Robert Cargill use this to their advantage, concocting a clever way to resurrect the Grabber that ties details we already know to others not yet revealed.  

Taking place in a snowy, haunted camp with Overlook Hotel vibes, cinematographer Pär M. Ekberg channels a grainy, 70's aesthetic filled with trippy dreamscape sequences that feel akin to stepping into an old Super 8 movie. And it's jaw dropping shots like the old phone booth standing in the frozen tundra or a dazed Gwen being confronted by visions of the Grabber's burned and battered victims that help the film maintain a malevolent, unsettling tone throughout. 

These characters also evolve in dramatically satisfying ways following the events that befell them four years earlier. McGraw's Gwen is upgraded to full fledged protagonist as she battles Finney's dead captor, who's taken a page or two from Freddy Krueger's playbook. And the pain and punishment he inflicts in her dreams very much carries over to reality, making it far safer to stay awake, even if that remains at odds with what she's hoping to accomplish.  

In a heavily expanded role, McGraw gives a powerhouse performance as Gwen, while Thames effectively portrays the angry teen in a state of detached denial, burying his fear behind apathy and pot. More like his alcoholic father than he'd ever admit, he's heading down a similar path of self loathing and regret unless he pulls it together. Bechir is tremendous as the kind, strong-willed camp owner, valuable for his own connection to the Grabber and as the only adult who believes them. 

Despite being the brother of a past victim, Mora's Ernesto is still little more than an appendage, his romantic sub-plot with Gwen providing a serviceable enough diversion. But the script skillfully uses Finney and Gwen's late mother Hope (Anna Lore) as a vessel to join past and present, culminating in a spectacularly filmed sequence that finds Gwen entering her mom's dreams, piecing together the Grabber's history as she comes to a shocking realization. 

Derrickson settles into a more predictable rhythm when the gang attempts to vanquish the beast, but it's still a hallucinatory ride, building on the goodwill garnered in the previous installment. Though we rarely "need" sequels, it's always a relief when we get one this ambitious. Transfixing but oddly repetitive at points, it boasts a more threatening antagonist and even better atmosphere than its predecessor, reaping the rewards of taking place in an icy hell from which there's no escape.                           

The Smashing Machine

Director: Benny Safdie
Starring: Dwayne Johnson, Emily Blunt, Ryan Bader, Bas Rutten, Oleksandr Usyk, Olga Dzyurak, Lyndsey Gavin, Satoshi Ishii, James Moontasri, Yoko Hamamura, Stephen Quadros, Whitney Moore
Running Time: 123 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)    

It seems odd that the biggest question going into The Smashing Machine was whether Dwayne Johnson could capably play the role of former amateur wrestler turned MMA fighter Mark Kerr. But that we still  ask given the actor's history on the mat speaks to just how far removed he's been since becoming a major movie star. It's less whether he can do it than if audiences would bite after an endless string of action vehicles had us thinking he gave up being taken seriously as a dramatic actor. Johnson came out of the gate with such undeniable charisma and early promise we knew he'd eventually jump into more challenging roles in different genres. It's only when the big paydays came and his movies kept dominating the box office that he resisted straying from his familiar formula. 

Now after stumbling with Black Adam and the PR mess that followed, Johnson's asking fans to accept this sudden shift that can best be called a calculated gamble. But while that and a depressing subject matter are potential reasons for why audiences stayed away, it isn't a reflection of the film's quality. Everything that can go right does, even as writer/director Benny Safdie crafts a somewhat familiar sports underdog story laced with tragedy. Unfolding with almost documentary-like truthfulness, how it's told and Johnson's performance help lift it, making for an emotionally raw character study.  

It's 1999 and we see grainy, VHS fight footage of UFC competitor Mark Kerr (Johnson), being interviewed about his impressive winning streak as he heads to Japan for his next fight, accompanied by trainer, best friend and fellow competitor Mark Coleman (Ryan Bader). But it's Kerr's volatile relationship with girlfriend Dawn Staples (Emily Blunt) that causes problems, especially as he becomes increasingly dependent on drugs, injecting opioids around the clock to numb the pain and continue fighting. 

Between arguing with Japanese officials about his pay and getting into locker room screaming matches with Dawn, a glassy eyed Kerr reaches the end of his rope after a devastating loss sends him home and eventually to rehab following an overdose. While he diligently commits to staying clean, rehab and recovery is a change Dawn can't deal with, especially once he begins training for his comeback under the tutelage of MMA legend Bas Rutten (playing himself). With one last shot at redemption, Kerr attempts to maintain his sobriety and career, as he and Dawn continue to lock horns, headed for a nasty collision course.  

There's this moment early on when Kerr's asked by an interviewer what he'd do if he lost and his reaction speaks volumes. It's almost as if he can't wrap his head around such an idea, much less the actual possibility, despite it being a prerequisite for every great champion. Watching, you're reminded of Ronda Rousey, a fighter so driven by her hunger to win that she couldn't psychologically process the alternative. When it came, she unraveled, just as Kerr does, going into immediate denial and frantically grasping at straws to search for a loophole that might overturn his worst nightmare. 

Of course, Kerr being high all the time doesn't help, transforming him into someone far different from the polite, mild mannered giant who befriends grandmas and kids in doctor's offices at the film's start. On the mat he's a maniac, but the loss marks a turning point in his personal life, causing him to direct much of that rage at a frustrated Dawn, who gives it right back. Nearly from the jump, Safdie plant the seed that she's an outsider in her boyfriend's world, always taking a back seat to his love of competition. 

Accustomed to being the center of attention, Dawn tries to connect with him, only pushing his buttons instead, leaving a patient, levelheaded Coleman to act as intermediary while facing media criticism his own MMA career is winding down. Ironically, it's when Kerr gets clean that things get far worse, prompting us to realize his toxic relationship with Dawn can't exclusively be chalked up to the drugs. At times it's more a symptom than a cause since there's more than enough blame to go around for both. Only when he starts making real strides in his recovery do they drift even further apart, causing an isolated Dawn to spiral.

Buried under facial prosthetics, a bigger, more jacked than usual Johnson sort of resembles a cross between Lou Ferrigno and Kurt Angle, with a little of The Rock peeking through. Claims that he's completely unrecognizable or totally disappears aren't exactly accurate, but that's a good thing, since this portrayal wouldn't be nearly as effective without the actor's real persona enhancing it. And though his skills are stretched beyond anything we've recently seen from him, it still incorporates a showmanship and intensity similar to that he displayed between the ropes. We glimpse it in scenes where he's demolishing doors and walls, but it's actually the quieter, emotional moments where he's most impressive, breaking down like a small, helpless child as his character crumbles. 

Eyes rolled when it appeared Blunt would be saddled with another suffering wife role, but Dawn has a meatier arc than that, particularly in the film's second half, mostly due to the actress and a certain level of awareness in Safdie's script. And while Kerr's pairing with her is marred by addiction and mental instability, it strays from the usual template of a abusive relationship, creating a murkier than usual dynamic. MMA fighter Ryan Bader is also excellent in his acting debut, bringing a grounded believability to pal and cornerman Mark Coleman while Bas Rutten's brief but memorable appearance is as crazy as you'd want. 

The ending notably diverges from the "final fight" sports biopic trope in that there's no victory, at least in a traditional cinematic sense. What Kerr achieves is subtler, less tangible and only achievable through continued progress. The very last scene is a keeper, delightfully showing us the real Kerr out and about in the present day. But for those blaming the film's perceived failure on no one knowing who this guy is, it's best to remember all characters are strangers before the credits roll, whether we've heard of them or not. An actor's job is to fill in the blanks, which Johnson compellingly does from its opening minutes.  

I'll gladly take ten Smashing Machines over the projects Johnson's recently chosen, while hoping its muted reception doesn't cause him to swear off riskier parts and head straight back to the action realm. Ideally, he should do a variety of both, which would have already gotten fans used to the idea of him tackling heavier material. But he's on the right track, even if it didn't pull viewers who flocked to Johnson's other movies. Unflinchingly honest, it rarely pulls its punches, dropping us into a grittier era to tell the story of the fighter who helped put UFC on the map.                                         

The Life of Chuck

Director: Mike Flanagan
Starring: Tom Hiddleston, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Karen Gillan, Mark Hamill, Mia Sara, Nick Offerman, Carl Lumbly, Benjamin Pajak, Jacob Tremblay, Annalise Basso, Taylor Gordon, Kate Siegel, Samantha Sloyan, Trinity Bliss, Matthew Lillard, Violet McGraw, Heather Langencamp, David Dastmalchian, Cody Flanagan, Q'orianka Kilcher, Antonio Raul Corbo, Molly C. Quinn, Michael Trucco, Carla Gugino, Lauren LaVera
Running Time: 111 min.
Rating: R

**The Following Review Contains Plot Spoilers**

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

In a year that's seen no shortage of Stephen King's work on screen, the feeling is that most of his films fit into one of two categories. Although he's best known for straightforward horror, it always seems to be the others that stop you dead in your tracks, forcing a double take to confirm it's his name appearing above the credits. But it wasn't until The Shawshank Redemption hit theaters in 1994 that perceptions of the author really started to change, earning him full respect outside the horror genre. And now we can properly credit this evolution for helping clear the path for Mike Flanagan's The Life of Chuck, one of the strongest King adaptations ever lensed. 

Based on a novella from the writer's 2020 short story collection, If It Bleeds, the film fearlessly explores the minutiae of everyday life, carefully walking a delicate line that separates mysticism from reality. And it comes from a director who's no stranger to King's material, having helmed Gerald's Game and The Shining's surprisingly well received sequel, Doctor Sleep, both of which share little in common with this. But who is Chuck? The answer is simpler than we expect, yet also much deeper and more profound. Every scene, moment and line of dialogue revolves around this title character, even when you're lulled into thinking otherwise. It's all about him, and in a strangely cosmic sense, also us. 

Middle school teacher Marty Anderson (Chiwetel Ejiofor) is having an awful day, even as many around the globe are suffering far worse. California was just struck by a catastrophic 9.2 earthquake, the internet is out worldwide, cars are falling into sink holes and suicides are way up. It could be the end and he's stuck sitting through unpleasant parent-teacher conferences when not being bombarded by billboards, commercials and advertisements thanking an accountant named Charles "Chuck" Krantz for "39 Great Years!' Marty's ex-wife Felicia Gordon (Karen Gillan), a nurse at the local hospital, isn't faring any better, with the pair leaning on each other during what could be their last days. 

Flashing back some months earlier, we follow a middle-aged Chuck (Tom Hiddleston), who while attending a banking conference has a spontaneous musical moment involving a street drummer (Taylor Gordon) and red-haired young woman (Annalise Basso) in the midst of a bad breakup. From there, we get a look at Chuck's childhood spent living with his kind but alcoholic grandfather Albie (Mark Hamill) and free spirited grandmother Sarah (Mia Sara) following the death of his parents and unborn baby sister. Torn between an interest in dance and Albie's insistence on a more practical path, Chuck is sternly warned by him to stay out of the house's locked cupola, only further piquing the boy's curiosity.  

Told in reverse chronological order, those expecting the life affirming tale hinted at in the trailers may initially be taken aback by an apocalyptic parable along the lines of a moodier, more philosophical Leave The World Behind. But the worst way to approach any of this is literally, like a puzzle in need of solving. Better described as the series finale of a life, there are clues, just not related to what you'd assume, some of which are caught on a second watch once the whole story's played out. 

Even when we struggle to process how much of the opening act's cataclysmic disaster is actually real, Marty and Felicia's sinking feelings of dread and hopelessness remain a constant. Exes with only each other to lean on as they try to process all that's happening during a deep late night conversation, the substance of their talk proves important later. We'll also meet other shaken residents, like Marty's manic neighbor Gus (Matthew Lillard), kindly, dignified town mortician Sam (Carl Lumbly), depressed single father Josh (David Dastmalchian) and a reappearing young girl on roller skates (Violet McGraw). 

With the situation worsening, a distracted Marty and Felicia still can't seem to figure out who this "Chuck" guy is or why his pleasant, bespeckled mug is everywhere of late, including through the illuminated windows of neighborhood homes. Becoming as ubiquitous as Truman Burbank, he's not old enough to be retiring so there's clearly something else going on. But as achingly believable as Ejiofor and Gillan are in these roles, they'll exit stage left when it's time to meet Chuck. 

In the first of Flanagan's many carefully calibrated tonal shifts, the story enters uncharted territory with the introduction of mild mannered insurance agent Chuck, who's briefly played by Hiddleston in a part smaller than you'd expect, but no less monumental. His encounter with this street drummer and bystander comes delightfully out of nowhere, with the actor gradually conveying all the complicated, inexplicable emotions flowing through Chuck in that moment.

This is also when Nick Offerman's narrator emerges as a character unto himself, supplying pointed and poignant observations lifted directly from King's prose. The actor's deep baritone and droll, bemused delivery is immediately recognizable when delivering a sarcastic, occasionally hilarious commentary that disproves the ridiculous theory all voice overs are lazy. Anything can be mishandled, but A Christmas Story and Arrested Development would probably like a word since both serve as a template for how Offerman deftly adds to the verisimilitude of Flanagan's universe.

Carefully placed but never overused, the narration builds and memorably punctuates certain scenes, like when tracking the three strangers as they cross paths in the spectacular, impromptu dance sequence that means more than we initially think. The thrilling choreography and performances provide a wake-up call, putting viewers on notice that the film's turned an unpredictable corner. But what's scarier is how it'll later be topped by an even better one. 

Joy begets tragedy when Chuck's childhood is drastically altered following his parents' death. Played by three different actors at separate ages, the heaviest lifting comes from a revelatory Benjamin Pajak as the 11-year-old version. And while he's nearly unrecognizable behind a scraggly, walrus-like mustache, Mark Hamill gives the performance of his career as Albie, at one point turning a speech that extols the virtues of mathematics into quiet devastation for a grandson whose ambitions are squashed in an instant. But in embodying this flawed but well meaning grandfather with such sincerity, we believe his advice comes from the right place, despite how visibly painful it is for the boy to hear.    

That moment puts everything previously shown into proper perspective, helping explain why Chuck stops at the sound of those drums later on the street as an adult, surrendering to a love that's laid dormant for decades as he pursued a more conventional career path. But many of his interests stem from his movie musical obsessed grandmother Sarah, a practical voice of wisdom and reason he always felt more connected to than Albie, mainly because she's so much fun. In her first acting role in over a decade, Ferris Bueller and Legend star Mia Sara doesn't get a ton of screen time, but does she ever make the most of it, her character's presence and impact reverberating long after she's left the picture. 

A seemingly superfluous side plot involving Chuck's extracurricular dance club hits hardest, forming the crux of the story's importance and bookending what that came before. This is Flanagan's finest hour, depicting the pangs of adolescence with relatable humor and heartbreaking nostalgia, avoiding the sappiness that would sink lesser films of a similar ilk. It's also full of small moments you don't want to see end, from Chuck's unforgettable interaction with hippie teacher Miss Richards (Kate Siegel) to his crush on taller, older dance partner Cat (Trinity Bliss) that culminates in the film's most moving scene. Everything about it is pure magic, including Chuck getting just the right advice from the coach (Samantha Sloyan) during a sudden attack of fear and insecurity. And while there's real doubt how things will turn out, the pay off is exhilarating, with Offerman's narrator capping it all off with a perfect line that encapsulates a kind of memory that can't be described. 

Invoking elements from The Tree of Life and even Robert Zemeckis's Here, Flanagan gives the material a Spielbergian touch by celebrating the profound intricacies of human experience in ways that speaks directly to mainstream moviegoers. With cinematographer Eben Bolter expertly conveying each chapter's distinctive look and The Newton Brothers' sweeping score carrying us through, it feels like the type of dramatic fantasy that would have blown theatergoers away in the 90's and 00's. Bubbling just under the surface is this mystery that comes to a head in its closing minutes, pulling back the curtain with a reveal that leaves you gasping for air as the credits roll. 

Between an off-putting title, its inexplicable 'R' rating, poor promotion and getting dumped into theaters a year after winning the top prize in Toronto, it's obvious the studio didn't have a clue how to sell a film this adventurous. A meditation on life and death in reverse, shocking developments and surprising performances pop up at every turn, forcing viewers to question the journey they're really on. And with a myriad of tiny details left for discovery on repeated viewings, it saves the best act for last, making it a rarity among King's prolific output.                         

The Fantastic Four: First Steps

Director: Matt Shakman
Starring: Pedro Pascal, Vanessa Kirby, Ebon Moss-Bachrach, Joseph Quinn, Julia Garner, Sarah Niles, Mark Gatiss, Natasha Lyonne, Paul Walter Hauser, Ralph Ineson, Matthew Wood
Running Time: 114 min.
Rating: PG-13 

★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

After previous attempts failed at capturing the magic its characters brought to the page, delivering even just a decent cinematic interpretation of Marvel's Fantastic Four grew needlessly difficult. And between an unreleased 90's version, two lackluster installments in the 00's and that abysmal 2015 reboot, the idea of giving it another go has largely been frowned upon. That is until a desire to fill out out the MCU's next phase prompted Disney to take an entirely new approach to the material. 

The end result is director Matt Shakman's The Fantastic Four: First Steps, a thrilling sci-fi adventure that succeeds in erasing unpleasant memories of series past. Boosted by spectacular effects and jaw-dropping production design, world building becomes as much a priority as the actual plot, which is also surprisingly strong. After a somewhat methodical start, it gains traction from a formidable pair of villains and a retro-futuristic aesthetic more comparable to The Jetsons than a Marvel comic book movie. And yes, that's a compliment. 

It's 1964 on Earth-828 as everyone celebrates the fourth anniversary of astronauts Reed Richards (Pedro Pascal), Sue Storm (Vanessa Kirby), Ben Grimm (Ebon Moss-Bachrach) and Johnny Storm (Joseph Quinn) gaining superhuman abilities after being exposed to cosmic rays during a space mission. Collectively known as the "Fantastic Four, they're worldwide celebrities, having vanquished various supervillains while inventor Reed's technological contributions and Sue's diplomatic work positively reverberate through society. 

With Reed and Sue now expecting a baby that may or may not also possess superpowers, the Silver Surfer (Julia Garner) arrives, declaring Earth marked for destruction by planet devouring cosmic giant Galactus (Ralph Ineson). The team travels to space to stop him, learning the couple's unborn child has the ability to relieve Galactus of his insatiable, life sustaining appetite for consuming planets. Sensing that power, he offers to spare Earth, but only if they hand over the baby. With the public angrily rebelling at the possibility they'd save one child over an entire population, the foursome devise a plan to defeat this gargantuan threat. 

A lot of effort is put into wiping the slate clean and establishing these characters through comedic interplay, family bonding and 60's inspired newsreel footage. While not exactly an origin story, it leaves no stone unturned in showing what the team's been up to for the past four years, nearly going overboard with their introductions. But there's a reason for that, and even when some of the humor falls flat, we're too mesmerized by Kasra Farahani's mid-century set design and Jess Hall's vibrant cinematography to notice. Between the lava lamps, curved architecture, bold colors, and sleek jumpsuits, it all invokes a visual feel no recent Marvel outing has come close to matching. 

At first, we get brief glimpses of the powers even viewers with only limited exposure to the films and comics will recognize. Reed's elasticity, Sue's invisibility, Johnny's ability to generate fire and Ben Grimm's superhuman strength as the giant, hulking The Thing will all come into play once Shalla-Bal's bursts onto the scene. And for all the complaints about a female Silver Silver, it's worth noting that Garner's mo-cap performance and appearance in the role might be the film's strongest aspect. 

Everything about the Surfer's presentation just hits, from her opening speech, to the connection she has with Johnny and even that brief flashback. So while it's easy to commiserate with fans demanding a male for consistency's sake, the blame can't be leveled at Garner, who overdelivers in a part only bolstered by the impressive effects. 

Kirby's Sue/Invisible Woman carries much of the film's physical and emotional heavy lifting when confronted with a dangerous proposition that puts her baby at risk. She not only benefits from an arc that really kicks into overdrive late in the game, but by encompassing how most envision Sue Storm to look and act based on the comics. With Pascal, its clear the producers went with the safest, most accessible choice for Reed. This combined with the actor's ubiquitous presence of late helped create the perception Marvel may phone this in. Only they don't, and Pascal's take on a genius who's smart enough to acknowledge he may not have all the answers ends up being better than its gotten credit for. 

Bachrach's self conscious but gentle giant Ben Grimm mostly tracks with prior incarnations, though he benefits from much improved VFX that emphasizes The Thing's monstrous appearance. A charismatic Quinn puts enough of his own spin on Johnny/Human Torch, giving the character a more likable, comedic slant without sacrificing the heroic aspects that define him. Unfortunately, despite ads implying the second coming of R2D2, robot assistant H.E.R.B.I.E. (voiced by Matthew Wood) is relegated to window dressing while Paul Walter Hauser's Mole Man merely serves as a comedic foil in the last act. 

The finale does work, as the team attempts to take out Galactus, who robotically marches through the streets with enormity and purpose that recalls a more sadistic Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. Of course, there's mid-credits scene to dissect, but since we already know when the four are showing up again, the bigger questions surround how. But regardless of what follows, Shakman and company diligently stick to the task at hand, successfully re-establishing Marvel's "First Family" following a string of bad luck over the years.

Stylistically straying from other MCU entries, this functions well as a standalone, with no prior research or homework required to enjoy the ride. And tightly clocking in at under 120 minutes, this doesn't overstay its welcome, avoiding the burn out that's accompanied some of the studio's nearly three hour endurance tests. Effectively prioritizing story and spectacle, First Steps lifts the creative curse, doing justice to these characters and unlocking the potential we always suspected this series had.                              

A House of Dynamite

 

Director: Kathryn Bigelow
Starring: Idris Elba, Rebecca Ferguson, Gabriel Basso, Jared Harris, Tracy Letts, Anthony Ramos, Moses Ingram, Jonah Hauer-King, Greta Lee, Jason Clarke, Willa Fitzgerald, Renée Elise Goldsberry, Kaitlyn Dever
Running Time: 112 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

What's so startling about Kathryn Bigelow's A House of Dynamite is how it maintains the momentum of remaining just twenty minutes away from imminent doom for the picture's entire running length. By shifting perspectives between multiple characters and doubling back to reveal crucial information, Bigelow presents a horrifying scenario that doesn't seem so far removed from current reality. And while experts will probably pick apart certain details in screenwriter and former NBC News President Noah Oppenheim's script, the chilling conceit behind his apocalyptic premise undeniably resonates.

No longer a false alarm or hypothetical, these officials try to navigate a nuclear pressure cooker where experience helps, but isn't enough, especially when a half-broken system and lack of information leaves the fate of the United States up to a coin toss. Buoyed by an all-star cast, their characters know something the world doesn't as seconds tick away, each forced to endure the quiet torture of telling their families without really "telling" them. But beyond that, it's compelling to watch how they function as cogs in a giant machine that just isn't built for something like this. 

Showing the same sequence of events from three points of view, the action opens early morning in Washington D.C., when White House Situation Room manager Olivia Walker (Rebecca Ferguson, Deputy National Security Advisor Jake Baerington (Gabriel Basso) and the President of the United States (Idris Elba) are informed that radar detected an unidentified ICBM launched over the Pacific on a trajectory to strike Chicago within twenty minutes. After being initially dismissed as a routine missile test, events take a horrifying turn,with all hands on deck to determine the next steps. 

The President joins a video call with Secretary of Defense Reid Baker (Jared Harris) and U.S. Strategic Command's General Anthony Brady (Tracy Letts) as Fort Greely commander Major Daniel Gonzalez (Anthony Ramos) is ordered to launch ground based interceptors to take out the missile. But when further complications arise and FEMA activates an emergency response, the President must make an unimaginable choice. With Chicago minutes away from being leveled, the realization sets in that the worst may still be ahead.

There's no reason for those involved to believe it'll be anything other than a normal day, or as normal as it gets in jobs this crucial to national security. For a short while, a small sense of predictability and routine follows Olivia to work that morning as she says goodbye to her husband and sick young son, unaware of what awaits. Ferguson's performance in these early scenes convey the mannerisms and demeanor of a deliberate, dedicated woman well equipped to handle crisis. But even she'll reach her breaking point while wrangling all the players necessary to stop the unthinkable. 

Despite opening those lines of communication, chaos reigns when the story shifts to Basso's flustered Baerington, who juggles the responsibility of impending fatherhood with a rapidly approaching disaster. He's nervous but exceptionally qualified in his attempts to advise the President, butting heads with Letts' General Brady, a Cheney-like war hawk hellbent on retaliation, with or without the necessary intel. The question is whether that's worth the risk when they're still unsure who's responsible or why. When technology fails, plans evolve, tragically resigning them to focus on what's still within their control.  

That's especially true for Harris's Secretary of Defense Baker, a recent widower whose estranged daughter Caroline (Kaitlyn Dever) lives directly in the path of destruction. Their brief conversation and Baker's actions after it are by far the the film's most emotionally jarring moments. There's also some smaller, but memorable turns from Moses Ingram as a FEMA official, Jason Clarke as the White House Situation Room Director, Willa Fitzgerald as a CNN reporter and Greta Lee as a National Intelligence Officer who takes the most important phone call of her life in a cruelly ironic location.   

Elba's believable portrayal as Commander-in-Chief is bolstered by subtler scenes leading into the catastrophe that puts his character's personality and leadership style into context. Already exhausted, this drains what little energy he has left as the various scenarios are laid out for someone who was making a charity appearance only minutes earlier. 

Leaning on his wife and First Lady (Renée Elise Goldsberry) for support, it's ultimately military aide Reeves (Jonah Hauer-King) who guides the POTUS in choosing between Bareington and Brady's opposing options. While the film leaves a little too much hanging in the air, it's  fairly obvious what occurs, even if it isn't shown. Still, you can't help but wonder if a more conclusive, powerful payoff could have better driven this nightmare scenario home. 

Taking inspiration from similarly themes genre classics like Fail Safe and The Day After, it's a safe bet the eerily prescient script was written years prior, serving as a stark warning for any administration, but most especially unprepared, lesser qualified ones. And while the film's title is lifted from a key line of dialogue, it also works as a choice metaphor for describing this problem we're still no closer to solving. Despite an ending that stops short of delivering an unforgettable final blow, Bigelow steps back enough to let viewers debate and dissect what they think they've just seen.