Marty Supreme

Director: Josh Safdie
Starring: Timothée Chalamet. Gwyneth Paltrow, Odessa A'zion, Kevin O'Leary, Tyler Okonma, Abel Ferrara, Fran Drescher, Luke Manley, Emory Cohen, Larry Sloman, Ralph Colucci, Géza Röhrig, Koto Kawaguchi, Pico Iyer, John Catsimatidis, Sandra Bernhard, George Gervin, Ted Williams, Penn Jillette, Isaac Mizrahi, David Mamet, Fred Hechinger, Levon Hawke, Phillipe Petit
Running Time: 150 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)     

The biggest surprise to come out of Josh Safdie's semi-biographical table tennis drama Marty Supreme isn't how much is constantly happening, but the frenetic, breakneck pace at which it all occurs. In fact, there's such a dizzying abundance of side quests, odd characters and cleverly constructed scenes you'll probably need a scorecard to keep track. And that's not even accounting for the myriad of familiar faces popping up throughout, many of whom aren't actors, but various pop culture personalities who seamlessly acclimate themselves into Safdie's period specific universe. 

Full of wild excursions and sub-plots, the action revolves around a cocky, unlikable main character with a single goal: letting the world know he's the best. But he's also a liar, conman and egotistical scam artist who won't hesitate stepping over everyone as he claws and scratches his way to the top. At one point he matter-of-factly predicts he'll be on a Wheaties box without so much as a hint of irony or doubt. For him, it's all about reaching the coveted World Championships, with all of the film's creatively calamitous detours existing in the service of getting him there.

It's New York City in 1952 and shoe salesman Marty Mouser (Timothée Chalamet) is working at his uncle Murray's (Larry Sloman) shop while competing professionally as a table tennis player. On the cusp of being promoted to store manager, he's having on an affair with married childhood friend Rachel (Odessa A'zion), even as his sights remain set on playing in the British Open. But when a broke Marty can't convince his uncle to give him money for the trip, he takes drastic action, arriving at the tournament only to lose in the finals to deaf Japanese rival Koto Endo (real life table tennis player Koto Kawaguchi). 

While in London, Marty starts another affair with former actress Kay Stone (Gwyneth Paltrow), whose wealthy pen magnate husband Milton Rockwell (Kevin O' Leary) makes him a lucrative offer to lose an exhibition match to Endo in Japan. Taking this as an insult, Marty continues touring with friend and former champion Béla Kletzki (Géza Röhrig) as an opening act for the Harlem Globetrotters until he faces a stiff ITTA fine and possible ban for his unprofessional tournament conduct. After desperately convincing taxi driver pal Wally (Tyler Okonma) to help him hustle local players for cash, chaos ensues, forcing Marty to rethink Rockwell's offer, even if that means sacrificing his integrity for cash and a chance at competing in the World Championships. 

Though Marty and Rockwell are at odds from the moment they meet, both could believably benefit from this proposed business arrangement since each are selfishly motivated by their separate desires to see the sport's popularity take off in America. For Marty, it can mean greater exposure and fame while Rockwell sees dollar signs, not to mention the opportunity to exploit a brash young punk he'll tolerate just long enough to get what he wants.  

While the title character is loosely based on late table tennis champion Marty Reisman, that's where most of the similarities between reality and fiction end, with Safdie concocting a heightened version of the actual person and using the period setting as his primary inspiration. Ironically enough, the very idea of a scripted corporate sponsored exhibition match might be the film's timeliest aspect considering how often these pre-determined corporate sports events are still held, sadly demonstrating the almighty dollar's ability to override the thrill of competition. 

Marty's discomfort with throwing a match for money and his undeterred tenacity could be seen as the aspiring champ's only redeeming qualities. It's just too bad he keeps using every friend and family member who helps him, whether that's his uncle, mother (Fran Drescher), girlfriend or even total strangers he encounters along the way. And yet despite sleeping with Rockwell's morose, frustrated wife and insulting his late son, he still manages to come across as the ultimate underdog in comparison since their power dynamic is so severely unbalanced. 

Under different circumstances, Rockwell could be considered a somewhat sympathetic character for putting up with Marty, but since he's played by Shark Tank's "Mr. Wonderful" Kevin O' Leary in his acting debut, there's little chance of that. Safdie transposing TV's most recognizably greedy capitalist into the 1950's is a masterstroke, mainly because he's unsurprisingly great at adapting his own outsized persona into such an environment. In actuality, O'Leary goes a few layers deeper, like when delivering Rockwell's metaphorical vampire speech, claiming to have met and destroyed countless Martys over his lifetime. We believe him, just as we recognize how the thought of working with the Japanese who killed his son hasn't ever entered his mind. It's just business.

Marty also knows a lot about compartmentalizing, having screwed and backstabbed to finance a trip that may not even happen unless the idea of consequences start sinking in. His worst behavior comes out in the film's exhilarating middle section when endless scheming unleashes a crazy chain of events involving a mobster (Abel Ferrrara), his missing dog, a gas station fire, a trigger happy farmer (Penn Jillette) and a thwarted venture with hapless friend Dion (Luke Manley) involving orange table tennis balls ("spheres'). And Safdie somehow manages to have it all converge, leading Marty to his lowest point, abandoning a very pregnant Rachel to follow his dream at the worst possible moment.

If Marty's no prize, neither is retired actress and Rockwell's trophy wife Kay, who fills the void of her monotonous, miserable existence with this younger man. While Paltrow's casting could have similarly come across as a stunt, she delivers some of her most memorable work following what's been a nearly seven-year acting hiatus. There's this cold sadness to Kay, who sleepwalks through life without so much as a smile until Marty briefly reignites in her a spark to perform again. It's a strictly physical relationship of convenience for both until they actually start spending time with each other and realize just how bad an idea it is. Or at least she does. 

If O' Leary proves how often non-actors can add dimensions of authenticity, this also extends to the smaller supporting roles and cameos Safdie uses to fill the corners of his world. Hardly a scene passes where there isn't some recognizable face, even when it takes a minute to place them. Whether it's Ferrara, Jillette, Tyler, the Creator, internet personality Manley, fashion designer Isaac Mizrahi, writer/director David Mamet, "Man on Wire" Phillip Petite, billionaire businessman John Catsimatidis or "The Man with the Golden Voice" Ted Williams, their presence helps make everything feel a little more real. Far from a distraction, it further draws us in, while Jack Fisk's production design and Miyako Bellizzi's costuming handle much of the heavy lifting. 

Though he's constantly scrapping by, we're given fleeting glimpses of Marty's loyalty buried beneath the bravado. But even when he's right, he still manages to express himself so arrogantly that no reasonable person would bother sticking around to listen. These are only a few of the contradictions a brilliant Chalamet brings to a character audiences won't necessarily like, but find complicated and complex enough to warrant redemption. Since there are numerous ways to read the ending, it's not entirely clear whether he gets it, leaving us with something that might appear to resemble a smidgen of growth, depending on your interpretation.   

Being recognized as champion is Marty's answer to everything, even if he can't help but let his pride and insecurity get in the way. No one wants to willingly help an abrasive jerk so he manipulates whoever he encounters, constantly failing upwards to reach the next level. But over the course of the story you sense he's resorting to those tactics out of pure survival instincts rather than any calculated plan. It's just who he is. And since having heroic protagonists shouldn't be a prerequisite, a certain comfort comes from knowing Marty won't ever be mistaken for one, making his twisted, energetic journey that much more exciting.

The Housemaid

Director: Paul Feig
Starring: Sydney Sweeney, Amanda Seyfried, Brandon Sklenar, Michele Morrone, Elizabeth Perkins, Indiana Elle, Amanda Joy Erickson, Megan Ferguson, Ellen Tamaki
Running Time: 131 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

Paul Feig's The Housemaid is the kind of stylishly silly throwback thriller they don't make enough of anymore, or at least not this well. Just when you think it's winding down is when it really gets going as a relatively straightforward premise flies off the rails in the best possible way. And while feelings may vary on how effectively the film reconciles its two distinct sections, it remains committed enough to its trashiness that you can't help but be on board. Everyone involved knew exactly what they're making and it shows, especially as the situation grows nuttier by the minute.  

Rather than questioning why a character didn't do this or that or nitpicking about the details, you'll spend  more time awkwardly rooting for an extra-marital affair you know is coming. But even as its campy scenario descends into "MeToo" era melodrama with a side plate of torture porn, this never wavers in tone, earning a leeway so many entertainingly bad movies in its genre don't. And for that and more, it's definitely Feig's most audacious directorial effort yet, if not his craziest. 

On parole and living out of her car, Millie Calloway (Sweeney) is hired by Nina Winchester (Amanda Seyfried) as a live-in housekeeper, arriving at the Great Neck, Long Island mansion she shares with wealthy tech mogul husband Andrew (Brandon Sklenar) and daughter Cece (Indiana Elle). And after impressing a seemingly pleasant and accommodating Nina in her interview, Millie's hired and given the attic guestroom and a new phone. Soon, she's cleaning, running errands and picking up Cece from dance class, only to find Nina's treatment of her starts becoming wildly unpredictable and downright abusive. 

Whether Nina's screaming at Millie for some imagined indiscretion or threatening to fire her for no good reason at all, she quickly realizes this woman's psychotic, a theory confirmed by Nina's chatty, backstabbing housewife clique. Desperate to keep this job as a condition of her parole, Millie finds support from the kind, laid-back Andrew, who's equally repulsed by his wife's behavior, which he attributes to a traumatic childhood event. But as Millie and Andrew grow closer, a jealous Nina becomes increasingly unhinged, setting off a dangerous series of events that causes everyone's secrets to spill.

When Millie first arrives at the Winchester house hidden behind a pair of mousey glasses, we immediately suspect she's hiding something, most likely related to her stint in prison for this unknown crime. Those unfamiliar with Freida McFadden's 2022 novel on which the film's based may assume she's running some sort of scam to fleece the family of their fortune. But while the theory's credible, it's also shelved right away, even as Millie's mysterious past remains an important detail that's touched upon throughout. 

As the story's self conscious narrator, Millie reveals flashes of her personality in scenes with her understanding parole officer or when quietly expressing concern over the obsessively detailed Nina somehow missing her criminal record in a background search. But in the meantime she contends with the boss from hell as Nina's initially warm, welcoming disposition quickly deteriorates, alternating between phony tradwife and irrational monster. All this as empathetic husband Andrew displays the patience of a saint, managing Nina's mental illness like a pro while also handling his snobby, perfectionist mother (an icy Elizabeth Perkins). 

Seyfried is extraordinary, cutting loose and chewing scenery like nobody's business in the type of  hysterically over-the-top turn only a great actress could get away with. You're on pins and needles anxiously awaiting what will set Nina off next, especially when Andrew offers the shell-shocked Millie a shoulder to cry on. And while he's no stranger to playing brooding, charismatic good guys in recent films like It Ends With Us and Drop, Skenlar does more here when Rebecca Sonnenshine's script pivots, giving him the chance to further stretch his acting muscles, with compelling results. 

That Sweeney's biggest box office success thus far comes in a sleazy psychosexual guilty pleasure rather than the supposedly more serious roles she's been taking on would feel ironic if she wasn't so excellent, skirting the line between vulnerable naiveté and opportunism. She leaves us guessing as we both cheer and dread Millie's inevitable connection with Andrew, buckling up for what's sure to be a bumpy ride. And without giving too much away, it isn't exactly a coincidence she was hired since every detail matters, whether it's related her own history, a nosy groundskeeper or water bottles left in the guest room fridge. 

What feels like the movie's peak becomes mere prologue once its big twist arrives, and regardless of whether you saw it coming, watching what unfolds is no less of a blast. The Housemaid probably isn't intended to withstand multiple viewings, but each of these actors impress with how deftly they change course once their characters' true intentions are revealed. When the turn arrives, this doesn't become a different film so much as an insanely amped up, addictive extension of what we were already watching. And in this case, that's not a bad thing at all.                                    

Hamnet

Director: Chloé Zhao
Starring: Jessie Buckley, Paul Mescal, Emily Watson, Joe Alwyn, Jacobi Jupe, Olivia Lynes, Justine Mitchell, David Wilmot, Bodhi Rae Breathnach, Freya Hannan-Mills, James Skinner, Elliot Baxter, Dainton Anderson, Louisa Harland, Noah Jupe
Running Time: 126 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

Those going into Chloé Zhao's Hamnet have already been warned to prepare themselves for the film's defining event, but it's really the painfully raw, unforgiving aftermath that makes this such an affecting watch. Far from a William Shakespeare biopic, the legendary dramatist's professional reputation is rarely addressed, nor is he even necessarily the main protagonist of a movie centered around a pivotal point in his life. Instead, he's seen through the eyes of wife Agnes, who recognizes him as a husband and father rather than the playwright he's toiling away to become. 

While much of what Zhao and co-writer/author Maggie O' Farrell covers is almost entirely speculative, it's rooted in a slice of forgotten, barely acknowledged history still completely unfamiliar to most. And that's why what occurs over the course of these absorbing two hours seems so shocking, as if we've entered territory we're not quite ready for, regardless of any foreshadowing. And though we've seen numerous interpretations of Shakespeare's Hamlet, this hinges on a larger story about love and loss filtered through an absorbing hypothetical about the play's creation.  

It's 16th century England and struggling writer William Shakespeare (Paul Mescal) is working as a Latin tutor when he's immediately smitten with falconer Agnes (Jessie Buckley). Despite strong objections from his mother Mary (Emily Watson) who believes her to be the daughter of a forest witch, Agnes becomes pregnant with their first child, Susanna. But after Agnes is disowned by stepmother Joan (Justine Mitchell), and moves in with Will's family, her brother Bartholomew (Joe Alwyn) arranges for Will to join a London theater company as she gives birth to twins.     

11 years pass, and while Will's career flourishes and frequently keeps him away from their Stratford-Upon-Avon home, twins Hamnet (Jacobi Jupe) and Judith (Olivia Lynes) are inseparable. But when the bubonic plague claims their only son, Agnes and Will's marriage deteriorates, with her resenting Will's extended absences as he continues to withdraw, immersing himself in his latest production. What she doesn't know is how he's been channeling this unimaginable anguish into what soon emerges as his most revered tragedy. 

The film begins with a title card stating how the names "Hamnet" and "Hamlet" are considered one in the same, giving us a clear indicator of the connection between Will's son and the play. There's also some misdirection happening in the first act, where viewers are privy to the fact that a death looms, with all signs pointing to their youngest, most vulnerable daughter Judith rather than her brother. That O' Farrell's novel and script creates this imaginary scenario loosely based on historical events blurs the line between fact and fiction, teasing catastrophe until the actual one arrives, shaking the foundation of a marriage that's already overcome considerable odds. 

Agnes and Will's unconventional pairing is so soundly rejected by their respective families that this Shakespearean origin story might share more similarities with the Bard's even more ubiquitous work about forbidden, star-crossed lovers than Hamlet. And while the ethereal forest scenes are gorgeously shot by cinematographer Łukasz Żal, they're juxtaposed against the pull of a dark, mysterious cave that portends impending doom. 

Lowly tutor Will's family begrudgingly accepts Agnes when her own stepmother doesn't, continuing a trend of abandonment that began after watching her biological mother die during childbirth as a little girl. This trauma manifests itself again with daughter Judith, the twin she most fears for, starting from her stillborn birth to when she later falls ill. But it's Hamnet's unbreakable loyalty to his sister that leads him to "take her place" in the film's most gut-wrenching section. It's also a frightening look at the absence of any effective medical treatment in the 16th century, where survival chances are comparable to a game of Russian roulette. 

In the wake of this horrific loss, Will's physical and emotional distance sends Agnes off the deep end, as does the notion he'd invoke their late son's name in his fictionalized play, seeming to only compound her suffering. But what Zhao does here is amazing since Hamlet actually has little, if anything, to do with Hamnet's death, yet still feels entirely about it in small, subtle ways only Agnes and Will would sense. As a result, watching her see it becomes just as hypnotizing as what's happening on stage. 

Mescal's complex, tormented turn, sheds light on Will's early frustration at being trapped in a job that suppresses creative ambitions his family can't possibly comprehend. He succeeds in getting out from under his father's thumb, but once tragedy strikes, the actor shows us a man incapable of externally expressing the guilt and sorrow that's broken him, instead directing it toward the only thing he knows. 

Buckley is a revelation as earthy healer Agnes, who basks in the joy of marriage and motherhood before circumstances intervene, sending her into a wild, inconsolable rage. Sharing an effortlessly natural chemistry with Mescal, she's called upon to ride a rollercoaster of highs and lows, right up until her character's heartbreaking catharsis in the film's final moments.Young Jacobi Jupe also leaves a lasting impression as the doomed Hamnet while his real life older brother Noah Jupe's portrayal of the actor playing Hamlet works as a projected image of Agnes's own son.  

Powered by two devastating performances, the film continuously builds momentum until we're given a rare glimmer of hope, if not the chance for this couple to somehow move forward. And while we've already seen numerous interpretations of Hamlet on stage and screen, it's never come with the benefit of speculating how or why it was conceived. Now viewed through an entirely different lens, audiences experience two overlapping tragedies, culminating in a drama that speaks to the endlessly complex relationship between grief and art.                                

Frankenstein

Director: Guillermo del Toro
Starring: Oscar Isaac, Jacob Elordi, Mia Goth, Christoph Waltz, Felix Kammerer, David Bradley, Lars Mikkelsen, Charles Dance, Christian Convery, Kyle Gatehouse, Lauren Collins, Sofia Galasso, Ralph Ineson, Burn Gorman, Nikolaj Lie Kaas
Running Time: 150 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)    

When it was announced the newest cinematic interpretation of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein would hit Netflix after a brief theatrical run, a certain degree of skepticism seemed justifiable. Despite the great Guillermo del Toro at the helm, the idea of revisiting this property could still be seen as a pointless rehash, no matter how closely it aligns with the filmmaker's Gothic horror sensibilities. But with this doubt also comes advantages, such as visuals, costumes, makeup and production design that far exceed even our loftiest expectations. So in finally realizing his long gestating dream project, we recognize how del Toro's always been making some form of Frankenstein, only now getting the chance to make it official.   

For del Toro, the devil's in the details when retelling such a familiar tale, as he focuses intensely on the monster's relationship to both the world around him and his obsessively arrogant creator. What starts as a promising experiment soon turns into disaster, with the title character looking to fill the void of a tumultuous childhood while his hubris gets the better of him. Preoccupied with "beating death," he overlooks the potentially dire ramifications, lacking the patience and temperament necessary to control all its unpredictable elements.  

In 1857 a seriously injured Victor Frankenstein (Oscar Isaac) is found by Captain Anderson (Lars Mikkelsen), who takes him aboard his icebound Royal Danish Navy ship before the crew is attacked by an angry creature (Jacob Elordi) looking for Victor. As Anderson manages to temporarily keep it at bay, Victor recounts the events that lead him there, starting with an aristocratic upbringing defined by his strict father's (Charles Dance) abuse and the sudden death of his mother after giving birth to younger brother William. 

As an adult, Victor goes on to become a brilliant but egotistical surgeon obsessed with "curing" death by reanimating corpses. This impresses arms merchant Henrich Harlander (Christoph Waltz), who agrees to fund his work while brother William (Felix Kammerer) helps construct the laboratory. But this is complicated when Victor falls for William's fiancée and Henrich's daughter, Elizabeth (Mia Goth), despite her ambivalence toward him. After gathering body parts from dead soldiers, Victor readies his creation, only to discover the Creature's intellectual deficiencies. Frustrated, he abusively lashes out at the Creature, setting them on a dangerous path that will tragically alter everyone's lives. 

Cleanly broken into two parts, the film's bookended structure resembles something of a father-son therapy session, with Victor venting his troubles to the unsuspecting sea captain before the Creature tells his side of the story. We take both their descriptions at face value while recognizing it'll lead to a turning point where their bond crumbles. It's really how del Toro fills in those blanks that's most fascinating, showing how this couldn't have led to any outcome other than the doctor attempting to destroy his prized creation. 

These early scenes of young, impressionable Victor (Christian Convery) are some of the film's best, especially in terms of setting the stage for what's to come, as the off-the-wall surgeon becomes so enamored with his own idea he can't see the forest for the trees, much less the catastrophic consequences ahead. Piecing together a living being out of cadavers may be creepy, but the scariest problem is Victor's deep-seated desire to somehow rectify his childhood pain. Everything comes back to that, including his infatuation with the delicate, sensitive Elizabeth, who sees right through him when he starts mistreating the Creature. 

Casting the otherworldly Mia Goth in a Frankenstein movie is almost too good to be true, making it easy to guess which character will have the most empathy for an abused misfit, with Elizabeth caring just as much for this fragile creature as the insects she's fascinated by. And viewers will need to do a double take to notice Goth unrecognizably also appears earlier as young Victor's mother, Baroness Claire Frankenstein. Having her play both roles is clever mirroring by del Toro, subtly symbolizing how Victor's grief continues to manifest itself in romantic obsession. 

While Victor writes off the monster as an intellectual failure, Elizabeth sees only his innocence and intelligence, which infuriates the maniacal doctor as he searches for reasons why he shouldn't burn his creation alive. Hoping to hear him speak a word other than "Victor," the Creature answers with the one name capable of sending his master off the deep end, in the process shifting the story's focus to this abandoned monster's quest for family and acceptance.

The Creature finds that family on a farm, taking shelter while secretly helping them, but it's his friendship with their elderly blind patriarch (an exceptional David Bradley) that resonates strongest, ultimately proving Victor wrong. And yet the monster's still viewed as an outcast, destined to be ostracized on appearance alone. What eventually drives this kindred "Spirit of the Forest" from his new home reflects that, as the now verbose, fully functional beast hunts down the father who betrayed him. 

Elordi's transfixing performance goes well beyond embodying the Creature's physicality, unlocking a childlike sense of wonder and conflicted confusion we haven't seen to this extent in previous interpretations or even the original text. And if Elordi makes this more a parable about companionship and belonging than we ever assumed, Isaac ensures the mad doctor's childhood loss isn't far out of view, with Victor displaying genuine hesitancy during some of his more depraved moments. 

For Victor, any chance of redemption rapidly decreases when his creation comes back for revenge as the monster society decides he is, forcing his master to face consequences similar to others he selfishly put in harm's way. Michael would top that list, if only for underestimating just how damaged his big brother is, leaving him and Elizabeth helplessly vulnerable. The same can be said for Waltz's giddy Henrich, who initially seems to be Victor's kindred spirit, until his enthusiasm and desperation become a liability for the driven physician. But while the film's resolution is heartbreaking on many levels, there's hope of a new beginning on the horizon, at least for one of them.

Between the 1931 Karloff version, Kenneth Branagh's 1994 attempt and everything else in between, the biggest challenge facing del Toro was bringing something freshly imaginative to the table. But it turns out we were asking all the wrong questions, underestimating his ability to extract new truths from classic material. While still somehow barely deviating from the original text, he not only delivers the best modern take on Shelley's novel, but sets the new standard by which all future Frankenstein adaptations will be judged.                                                           

Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere

Director: Scott Cooper
Starring: Jeremy Allen White, Jeremy Strong, Paul Walter Hauser, Stephen Graham, Odessa Young, Gaby Hoffman, Marc Maron, David Krumholtz, Harrison Gilbertson, Grace Gummer, Chris Jaymes, Johnny Cannizzaro, Brian Chase
Running Time: 119 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

In Scott Cooper's low-key, surprisingly contemplative Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere, we get a portrait of an uncompromising artist attempting to escape his past, his childhood, his own father and the  fame that began to engulf him in the early 80's. Bruce Springsteen's journey is recognizable, but that's less a flaw with the film than confirmation of how often personal pain powers the work and ambition required to achieve greatness. For Bruce, it was always about the music first, even as his celebrity became an unintended consequence he'd rather ignore. 

Problems often arise when films of this genre employ a traditionally linear approach, cutting corners and running through tired clichés to reach the finish line. So it's to Cooper's credit that he doesn't attempt to cram the entire life and career of the Boss into a two-hour window, instead staying true to Warren Zanes' 2023 book covering the creation of his riskiest album. It's more a fading snapshot of a specific era, with Bruce arriving at a personal and creative crossroads, painfully looking back while trying to move forward.  

It's 1981 when ascending rock star Bruce Springsteen (White) finishes the final leg of his sold-out The River tour and manager Jon Landau (Jeremy Strong) rents him a house in Colts Neck, New Jersey where he can quietly decompress. After stumbling upon the movie Badlands on TV, he starts researching notorious serial killer Charles Starkweather, using his story and the works of author Flannery O'Connor to craft new material. But the home's close proximity to the Freehold neighborhood where Bruce grew up brings back traumatic childhood memories of an alcoholic, mentally ill father Douglas (Stephen Graham), who physically and emotionally abused him and his mother Adele (Gaby Hoffman).  

Calling on his guitar tech Mike Batlan (Paul Walter Hauser) to bring in a four-track recorder, Bruce turns the bedroom into a makeshift studio where he begins writing a collection of somber songs influenced by his blue-collar upbringing. He also starts dating his old friend's sister Faye (Odessa Young), a single mom struggling to make ends meet. After hearing the somber tracks, Jon's perplexed by Bruce's refusal to alter or clean up the raw acoustic sound he perfected in that room. But as Jon faces the impossible task of convincing Columbia Records' exec Al Teller (David Krumholtz) to release the unmarketable Nebraska, Bruce is suffering from a bigger identity crisis than anyone realizes.

Watching this, you see how oddly fitting it is that Springsteen's most recognizable single came six years prior with "Born To Run," a title he appears to live by through much of the film. And though the pressure's on to top The River's enormous success, we're at least spared another rock star's descent into drug abuse and addiction, with the singer having already gotten a front row seat to those consequences as a child. Rather Bruce's demons come in the form of untreated depression, dimming the brightest moments and lessening what should be the highest of highs.  

Strange as it seems given Nebraska's esteemed standing in Bruce's catalogue, the album was actually a huge gamble that could have easily derailed his career. And a folk excursion coming off the heels of one of the artist's more commercially friendly periods only made it a tougher sell. But what's interesting about Cooper's script is how it doesn't necessarily present this undertaking as a choice so much as a flood of memories and influences converging at once, leaving him little option but to lower his guard and let them in. 

Absent among these demos is a radio ready hit like "Hungry Heart" or "Out in the Street," but that's inevitable given the stripped down circumstances under which they're produced. And Bruce won't budge on any of it, rejecting the idea of a tour, singles, promotion, or even his photo on the album's cover. But most importantly, the sound he created in that bedroom must be replicated as it was, minus the usual studio bells and whistles. Neither difficult or full of himself, he's just sure of his work in an era when even the most popular musicians were forced by suits to make crippling compromises. 

While now we know how far a record like this can go in enhancing an artist's discography, the notion of creative freedom or subverting expectations was foreign at the time, even if it bolsters their popularity once they eventually return to the sound with which fans are most familiar. So if it's painful for Jon and producer Chuck Plotkin (Marc Maron) to shelve future all-timers "Born in the U.S.A.," "Glory Days," "I'm Goin' Down" and "I'm on Fire," to accommodate Bruce's more muted vision, it all worked out in the end, with those abandoned tracks defining his legacy on the next album. 

Focusing on the concept album's construction makes this more palatable than it would otherwise be, even if 1950's black and white flashbacks to Bruce's abusive childhood might prompt complaints of Cooper following the genre's typical blueprint. In this case though, it's relevant to both the music's content and emotional scars that infiltrate every facet of the singer's life. This includes a meaningful relationship with Faye he can't help but sabotage, fearful of exposing a side of himself no one's permitted to see. 

Powered by Jeremy Allen White's transformative performance in the title role, we're reminded how singing is only half the battle, if that. Briefly convincing us he sounds good enough to pass muster in the concert scenes is one thing, but actually capturing the Boss's swagger and mannerisms is another challenge entirely, as the actor goes beyond imitation to dig deeper during his many quieter moments alone, haunted by the past. 

Strong leaves a lasting impression as Bruce's biggest advocate, shepherding the release of a possibly doomed album that only sees the light of day with his full support. Critical but realistic, he's a friend anyone would be lucky enough to also call their manager, as demonstrated by his receptive "wait and see" approach upon receiving the tape. His best scene comes opposite Krumholtz's exec, making it clear that his allegiance lies with Bruce, regardless of what the label wants. 

A biopic peppered by a series of depressing flashbacks is good cause for skepticism, but the tropes are mostly sidestepped by Graham's ice cold supporting turn and memories that pay off in Bruce's songwriting and eventual acceptance of where he came from. While the elder Springsteen may have done the best he could, his best happened to be terrible, which is something both need to work past. But in writing an album he didn't know needed to exist, Bruce lets it all pour out, intrinsically tying his music to the endeavor of creating it. Deliver Me From Nowhere is at its best when exploring that process, shedding light on how Nebraska eventually came to be.  

Wake Up Dead Man: A Knives Out Mystery

Director: Rian Johnson
Starring: Daniel Craig, Josh O'Connor, Glenn Close, Josh Brolin, Mila Kunis, Jeremy Renner, Kerry Washington, Andrew Scott, Cailee Spaeny, Daryl McCormack, Thomas Hayden Church, Jeffrey Wright, Annie Hamilton, James Faulkner, Bridget Everett, Noah Segan
Running Time: 144 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

Among writer/director Rian Johnson's trilogy of Knives Out films, Wake Up Dead Man is sort of an outlier, taking a slightly different route than the two mysteries preceding it. Besides having more on its mind philosophically, the tone is darker and its lead detective shares the spotlight, resulting in enough of a departure to keep us guessing. But what's always been fun about the series remains unchanged, as Johnson still delivers the surprising twists, only this time digging a little deeper into these characters than usual. It's also a slow burn, waiting nearly a half hour to reintroduce the quirky sleuth who'll be diving into another seemingly unsolvable crime. 

While those elements distinguish this, there's no reason for those enamored with the familiar formula to worry Johnson's off his game, especially once we meet the latest rogues gallery of eccentric suspects. An argument could even be made it's the strongest entry of the three, at least outside the original, which would still justifiably win the popular vote. But in displacing those films' eagerness to please with a more somber tone and religiously supernatural plotline, this is the true Glass Onion of the series, its many layers gradually peeling away as we approach the final reveal. 

When former boxer turned Catholic priest Jud Duplenticy (Josh O' Connor) punches a widely disliked deacon, he's transferred by Bishop Langstrom (Jeffrey Wright) to small upstate New York parish, Our Lady of Perpetual Fortitude. While there, he serves as assistant pastor to the enigmatic Monsignor Jefferson Wicks (Josh Brolin), whose angry, controversial sermons have driven many from the church, leaving behind a small, but intensely devoted group of parishioners who both fear and respect him. It isn't long before Jud and Wicks clash over moral differences, but when the latter is stabbed during a Good Friday service, local police chief Geraldine Scott (Mila Kunis) calls in private detective Benoit Blanc (Daniel Craig) to investigate. 

Jud is the prime suspect, followed by a handful of others, including Wicks' devoted church lady Martha Delacroix (Glenn Close), recently divorced alcoholic doctor Nat Sharp (Jeremy Renner), lawyer Vera Draven (Kerry Washington), her adopted son and aspiring conservative politician Cy (Daryl McCormack), struggling sci-fi author Lee Ross (Andrew Scott), disabled former concert cellist Simone Vivane (Cailee Spaeny) and groundskeeper Samson Holt (Thomas Haden Church). Everyone's hiding something, but in attempting to crack the case, Blanc unconventionally recruits potential killer Jud to tag along.   

What resonates most about this mystery is how a spiritually doubtful Jud being sent to this church simultaneously becomes the best and worst thing that could possibly happen, testing him in ways he didn't know possible. And that it's Jud rather than Blanc serving as our entry point makes this as much his story than anyone else's, including the eventual victim. Equally believable here as he was as a struggling pro tennis player in Challengers, O'Connor quickly settles into the role of an affable, good natured priest with a chip on his shoulder. Jud takes his reassignment in stride, at least until he gets there and meets the arrogant Wicks, who's played with villainous energy by a scene stealing Brolin.

Clearly resentful toward Jud for intruding on his territory, Wicks rules the congregation with an iron fist, resembling a cult leader in how his devoted followers worship his every word, needing guidance they're convinced only he can provide. In exchange, he doesn't just get their money, but fuel for his insatiable ego, fostering a transactional relationship where they're entirely dependent on him. Whether it's a doctor whose wife just left him or a wheelchair bound musician in need of a miracle, they all think he has the cure for what ails them. 

There's a timely undercurrent running through the film as a manipulative Cy sees dollar signs in the church, harnessing Wicks' hold over his desperate believers as a springboard for his own political ambitions. But more fascinating is Wicks' sordid family history involving his grandfather and church founder Rev. Prentice Wicks (James Faulkner) and troubled mother Grace (Annie Hamilton), who unsuccessfully schemed to obtain her father's missing inheritance after his death. Depicted in a gripping early flashback, it could provide possible clues related to the details of the murder.  

Blanc's brought on by local law enforcement, and if we know anything about him by now, it's that he works alone even when he's not, using his own unique approach to plausibly fit all the puzzle pieces together. And while his bizarre crime solving alliance with Jud hinges on letting the young priest's perspective guide the investigation, Blanc doesn't want to believe Jud did this any more than we do, leaving us wondering what angle the detective's working. But even with O'Connor and Craig standing out as MVPs, there's no shortage of impressive supporting turns from a thoroughly unlikable Brolin, the hard to read Renner and especially Glenn Close, whose Martha serves as the church's eyes and ears.

The ending's jaw-droppingly convoluted and drags a bit, but still somehow makes complete sense, rewarding audiences for paying attention to smaller details pertaining to each character. But the real mystery might be how Johnson again managed to wrangle such eclectic cast, who all look to be having the time of their lives playing against type in some form or another. So while it's difficult to gauge just how much longer he can keep pumping these mysteries out or when we'll tire of them, the continued level of quality suggests this series still has a long way to go before reaching its saturation point.             

2026 Oscar Nominations (Reaction and Analysis)

Earlier today, actors Danielle Brooks and Lewis Pullman announced the 98th Academy Award nominations live from the Samuel Goldwyn Theater in Beverly Hills. And yes, the Oscars are still airing on ABC, at least until 2029 when YouTube obtains exclusive global streaming rights to the show, signaling the end of an era. This means all those complaints about how low the ratings have sunk will come to an end as the Academy makes a move that can't help but feel a decade late. And while it remains to be seen exactly how this will entice more viewers to watch a three and a half hour telecast or solve its formatting issues, it's a start. 

Until then, get ready for more business as usual. Regardless of how or where it airs, the Oscars do still represent the apex of the movie year for many hardcore cinephiles eagerly anticipating which of their favorite films made the cut. And for the directors, actors, producers, writers and crew all directly involved, the stakes couldn't be higher. On the bright side, there's good reason to be excited about the addition of the first new category in 25 years with "Achievement in Casting." It's a long time coming, even if voters went the predictable route of just cutting and pasting the top films into it. 

The morning's huge winner was Ryan Coogler's Sinners, which overperformed with a record-breaking 16 nominations, besting the 14 nod mark set by All About Eve, Titanic and La La Land. And as predicted, One Battle After Another fared extremely well with 13, even if it may not be as solid a lock for the big prize as we originally assumed. Guillermo del Toro's Frankenstein also cleaned up with 9, dominating the technical categories while also appearing in slots few expected. So now we'll see how much momentum all these films can retain heading into the Conan O' Brien hosted ceremony on Sunday, March 15th. But for now, here's look at all the morning's big surprises and snubs, along with my analysis. The full nomination list can be viewed at Oscars.org. 

-Sorry, but 16 nominations seems a little excessive for any film, and that's coming from someone who likes Sinners a lot. But what can you say? The movie just struck a chord with voters and possessed all the necessary components to cover a large swath of categories. The big shock was acting though. Very few even mentioned Delroy Lindo or Wunmi Mosaku as possibilities in the supporting categories, but here we are. Paul Thomas Anderson might be feeling a little more worried now. Can a vampire movie win Best Picture? We're about to find out. 

-Speaking of One Battle After After Another, there's no planet where 13 nods would ever feel like a disappointment. That said, Sinners definitely took some wind out of its sails, but as we know, a high nomination tally doesn't always equal the most wins, especially for a genre film. The more alarming development is Chase Infiniti missing Best Actress. This is what happens when a studio runs someone in the wrong category. Had they pushed her for Supporting, she'd be an Oscar winner. 

-The blockbuster Best Picture slot went to F1, as some had correctly predicted. The absences of Avatar: Fire and Ash and Wicked: For Good are glaring, especially since it would be quicker to name all the movies that didn't get in with such a massive field. The Secret Agent and Sentimental Value were the two chosen international entries to make the cut, but also had great showings elsewhere, joining Train Dreams in a contingent of tiny movies that could. Bugonia (!), Frankenstein, Hamnet and Marty Supreme rounded out the rest of the field.

-Aside from Amy Madigan's expected supporting nomination, Weapons drew blanks. And that's kind of surprising when you consider how much credit it's shared with Sinners for revitalizing Warner Bros., which was dead to rights before those two films emerged as runaway hits and primed the studio for a sale. But it looks like voters could only find room in their hearts for one horror entry. Knowing their history, it's a miracle they were even able to do that. 

-Zhao, Safdie, PTA, Trier and Coogler made the cut for Director and it's hard to call any of those a surprise. If you're not listed here your movie isn't winning Best Picture, which exposes the fallacy of an expanded ten nominee category. Del Toro's conspicuous by his absence, but with the amount of love Frankenstein's already received, it's hard to muster up too much sympathy. He'll be back. 

-Best Actor is the only category that went EXACTLY as expected, even if I'd like to see Bugonia's Jesse Plemons recognized. But with Chalamet, DiCaprio, Hawke, Jordan and Moura, it's tough to determine who voters would have picked for him to replace. But this is still Chalamet's to lose, with Michael B. Jordan suddenly finding himself in a better spot after what Sinners just pulled off.

-Kate Hudson: 2-time Oscar nominee. It's strange even typing that when you evaluate the actress's 25 year trajectory since being nominated for playing Penny Lane in Almost Famous, a role that should have launched her career into the stratosphere. But she lost and it didn't, only now returning to her roots with a comeback performance in Song Sung Blue, another musically themed picture. But the better news is that she didn't take Emma Stone's well deserved spot for Bugonia (which also nabbed Score and Screenplay nods). Both actressess join If I Had Legs I'd Kick You's Rose Byrne, Sentimental Value's Renate Reinsve and likely winner Jessie Buckley for Hamnet. The big omission was OBAA's Infiniti, and to a far lesser extent, Wicked: For Good's Cythia Erivo and longshot Amanda Seyfried for The Testament of Ann Lee.

- The OBAA combo of Penn and del Toro were always Supporting Actor locks, joining Frankenstein's Jacob Elordi, Sentimental Value's Stellan Skarsgård and Sinners' Delroy Lindo. This category mostly went according to plan, save Paul Mescal's snub for Hamnet and the surprise nod for Lindo, who joined Hudson and Mosaku in providing the auditorium with its biggest gasps and applause of the morning. 

-The Norwegian drama Sentimental Value scored big in the Supporting Actress category as both Elle Fanning and Inga Ibsdotter Lleaas get in, bringing that film's acting nomination total to four. This and its strong showing across the board make it one of the more notable, under-the-radar success stories of the season. OBAA's Teyana Taylor still has to be considered the frontrunner as Weapons' underwhelming haul might create an uphill battle for Amy Madigan. While Winmi Mosaku's inclusion is a shocker, it makes sense in hindsight, especially seeing how Sinners dominated.

-The casting category is already perplexing in its initial year. Who's to say even the greatest films necessarily represent a huge achievement in casting? Can't bad movies be well cast? Despite having never voted on this award before, the Academy somehow found a way to compile a list that feels like more of the same. Hamnet, Marty Supreme, OBAA, The Secret Agent, Sinners. It's strong casting all around, but they just cherry picked all the Best Picture nominees. 

-As for the technical races, I would have been thrilled to see James Price's imperative production design for Bugonia and Tron: Ares' visual effects (along with that Nine Inch Nails score) recognized, but it just wasn't meant to be. And in the case of the latter, it felt like the longest of long shots. But it was great to see The Lost Bus acknowledged for its tremendous effects, along with a Best Makeup nomination for The Smashing Machine, which strangely ended up having no worse a morning than Weapons did.