Nyad

Directors: Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi and Jimmy Chin
Starring: Annette Bening, Jodie Foster, Rhys Ifans, Karly Rothenberg, Jeena Yi, Luke Cosgrove, Eric T. Miller, Garland Scott 
Running Time: 120 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

It isn't long into Netflix's sports biopic Nyad when we realize record breaking long-distance swimmer Diana Nyad has that same competitive itch most world class athletes can't seem to scratch, even long after retirement. Many are initially plagued by second thoughts for walking away, realizing later time will always catch up. In that respect, Diana's urge to return at age 64 to finish what she couldn't decades earlier isn't surprising. But the impossibility of her goal is, regardless of age, gender or physical conditioning. She can complete this grueling 110 mile swim from Cuba to Florida because failure isn't an option, even as her stubbornness and oversized ego frustrate those helping make it happen.

The burden Diana carries to be the best is heavy, and as pieces of her troubled past are shown in fleeting glimpses, that desire starts making more sense. Attempting this swim still seems crazy, but we get it, and much of why rests on Annette Bening's performance in the title role, which is defined by her willingness to explore unlikable places with Diana's prickly personality. Bening specializes in steely, determined parts, but the sports psychology angle here really distinguishes it, as does her pairing with fellow acting icon Jodie Foster, who's arguably even better in a welcome, exciting departure.

Shortly after her 60th birthday, former marathon swimmer and ABC "Wide World of Sports" correspondent  Diana Nyad (Bening) shocks longtime best friend Bonnie Stoll (Foster) by announcing plans to begin training for the brutal Cuba-Florida swim she failed to finish in the late 70's. With the assistance of a steel shark cage, she veered off course, eventually taken out of the water after nearly 42 hours. A reluctant Bonnie agrees to coach Diana, but it's soon clear this is as much a battle against nature's uncontrollable elements as it is a test of the latter's drive and limitations. 

Looking to avoid previous pitfalls, Bonnie recruits grizzled navigational expert John Bartlett (Rhys Ifans) and an entire team of divers and scientific experts given the thankless task of providing the defiant Diana guidance she doesn't want or listen to. Unsurprisingly, this isn't a feat she'll be able to accomplish her first try, or maybe any of them, but for her there's no quitting until reaching the Florida shore.

As someone who sucks up all the air in the room, Diana has to humble herself enough to let the people around her actually do their jobs. In that sense, five attempts at this seems about right, even if few athletes would have the endurance to withstand one. Compellingly, the notion is presented that Diana could be more mentally equipped to do this now than in her physical prime due to experience and motivation that only comes with age. Of course, this sounds great until you're in the water and all the damaging effects begin to take hold.

On top of unmanageable tides, volatile weather patterns, sharks and deadly box jellyfish, Diana must contend with physical challenges and hallucinations her famished, dehydrated mind conjures up. With a collection of familiar 60's music comprising the playlist in her head and clad in a custom silicon face mask and suit, she's flanked by numerous boats and a professional medic. The nighttime scenes are most effective, creating a sense of isolating terror despite the fact she's hardly alone out there. It isn't lost on anyone she could die at any moment, her odds only worsening with each subsequent try. During this, flashbacks of a traumatic childhood event are cut in, informing the woman she'd later become.

Dina's penchant for exaggerating her already impressive accomplishments is a flaw Foster's Bonnie pushes back against, calling out the swimmer's self-centeredness and aversion to the truth. Aside from that, Julia Cox's screenplay is mostly reverent in its depiction, as Bening and Foster naturally play off each other, conveying the rhythms of lifelong friends incapable of sugarcoating anything. Whatever Diana dishes out, Bonnie gives right back, with Foster doing great work as a warm but no-nonsense voice of reason. Rhys Ifans also impresses as an exasperated navigator more than willing to put Diana in her place when necessary.     

Uplifting as it is, Nyad isn't a game-changer, but goes down easily under the skilled direction of Oscar-winning Free Solo helmers Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi and Jimmy Chin. But unlike that documentary, this narrative feature about going to extremes will probably play better for those unaware of the end result and ensuing controversy. That the 2013 swim is noticeably absent from the record books is a detail the film doesn't touch for obvious reasons, instead showing real footage of Diana's media appearances over the closing credits. But even as all the attempts at completing this achievement sometimes keeps the action stuck in repetitive mode, it succeeds by emphasizing the failure and tireless work that led her there.                                                  

Jerry and Marge Go Large

Director: David Frankel
Starring: Bryan Cranston, Annette Bening, Rainn Wilson, Larry Wilmore, Michael McKean, Ann Harada, Jake McDorman, Anna Camp, Uly Schlesinger, Tracie Thoms
Running Time: 96 min.
Rating: PG-13 

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Jerry and Marge Go Large is the type of small, breezy dramatic comedy from the 90's and early 2000's that middle-aged moviegoers flocked to theaters for on the weekend. It's the very definition of a throwback, feeling almost completely out of time, and while that might not seem like the most passionate endorsement, it's actually a high compliment. You wouldn't be wrong calling it "fluff," but director David Frankel seems to know that, competently and inoffensively holding your interest throughout in telling this true story about a couple exposing a flaw in the lottery system. Its title may be terrible and the first half is slightly stronger, but on the whole, it comes as a relief to get a well made, audience-friendly picture for a change. 

An unceremonious streaming drop on Paramount Plus isn't surprising for a genre that now seems as extinct as the dinosaur, but because of this, what was once commonplace suddenly feels special again, despite how few landing places there are for it. Writer Brad Copeland's screenplay (adapted from Justin Fagone's 2018 article) definitely won't be dazzling anyone with twists and turns because it's just not necessary for what essentially amounts to enjoyable human interest entertainment. And sometimes that's enough. But most of the credit should go to its two legendary leads, sharing the screen together for the first time as spouses, expertly inhabiting roles so normal and relatable that you forget how good they actually are.   

Forced into retirement after working over forty years as a production line manager for Kellogg's, Evart, Michigan resident Jerry Selbee (Bryan Cranston) is preparing to enter his golden years with wife Marge (Annette Bening). He struggles with the transition, looking for ways to spend his free time and keep himself useful while Marge is just excited to have him around the house more. With their supportive but adult children Ben (Jake McDorman) and Dawn (Anna Camp) busy with lives of their own, big thinking, detail oriented Jerry continues to sweat the small stuff, much to his friend and accountant Steve's (Larry Wilmore) mild irritation. 

Jerry's free time comes in handy when he discovers a loophole in Michigan's WinFall lottery system that leads the Selbees to cross state lines to purchase an obscene amount of tickets, resulting in substantially more cash. Soon, Jerry and Marge are inviting friends and neighbors to buy into a piece of their new venture, intending to use the earnings to renovate and revitalize their cash strapped town. But when a cocky Harvard student Tyler (Uly Schlesinger) discovers the same flaw, he formulates a plan to corner the market and force Jerry and Marge out of business for good.

At least initially, there's an About Schmidt vibe to all of this, following an uncertain retiree as he clumsily navigates his way through the next stage of life, whatever it may be. This relies more on plot machinations than that superior film, but the universally liked Jerry isn't nearly as ornery as Warren Schmidt, making this less of a character driven drama than a feel good fable. Once the lottery element is introduced, it shifts into what could be considered a traditional studio comedy, which in this case isn't such an awful thing. 

The script doesn't go too far into the weeds about the scheme other than making it clear Jerry recognizes a loophole and crunches numbers with Marge to buy up thousands of WinFall tickets to increase their odds. This requires semi-regular excursions to a small roadside store in Massachusetts that has the machines and an eccentric manager named Bill (Rainn Wilson). While the state's lottery commission doesn't care as long as the money's rolling in, complications arise with the competing Harvard students and Maya (Tracie Thoms), a curious Boston Globe reporter sniffing for a story.

Jerry and Marge including the Evart residents in their shared mission to resuscitate their close-knit, fledgling town lead the couple to embark on an adventure together for seemingly the first time in ages. That's especially true for Jerry, who feels a sense of renewed purpose after spending decades relatively satisfied and respected while punching the clock at work. But now his obsessive attention to detail is making a major impact on people's lives, as he slowly recognizes how he may have overlooked the obvious joys in his own. 

Cranston and Bening are playing a bit older than their ages, but effortlessly pull it off, elevating what's already respectable material to a higher level. Cranston's post-Breaking Bad career has been filled with interesting choices that display just how far his range extends and this continues that. But it's hard not to make an obvious Walter White comparison with Jerry, whose mundane existence is turned upside down after coming upon a life transforming scheme While the retiree's perfectly legal exploitation of the system to save his town is altruistic and a long way from a dying chemistry teacher's drug empire, it's a testament to Cranston that he can so comfortably slip into this like a pro. 

Bening makes for the ideal partner and an exciting presence as Marge, stealing scenes and making impeccably timed sarcastic quips at her husband while keeping him honest. And the rest of the supporting cast (including an underused Michael McKean) add just the right amount of quirkiness and local color to this small town. Even Uly Schlesinger's slimy Harvard antagonist is bearable, with Copeland's script wisely focusing on the generational gap between the two opposing sides. It also resists giving him a schmaltzy or undeserved redemptive arc, knowing that greedy, self-serving actions have consequences and leaving it at that. 

Showing a decent amount of respect for viewers' intelligence, Frankel (who also helmed 2011's tonally similar The Big Year) makes mainstream comedies better than most, utilizing a big screen sitcom  approach that's reminiscent of the late Garry Marshall. At one point a character sarcastically refers to Evart as "Mayberry," and that's not so far off. There's a down home quality to the material that he nails, basking in the inherent goodness of the characters and situation without crossing over into cornball territory. And with Cranston and Bening deftly handling material others of their stature would likely scoff at, the whole film's better off, paving the way for what ends up being a surprisingly pleasant and painless experience.              

20th Century Women

Director: Mike Mills
Starring: Annette Bening, Greta Gerwig, Elle Fanning, Lucas Jade Zumann, Billy Crudup, Alia Shawkat
Running Time: 118 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

"I don't know if we ever figure our lives out and the people who help you, they might not be who you thought or wanted. They might just be the people who show up."

If you had told me in advance that one of the very best films of the past year was titled 20th Century Women, I'd probably laugh. Because, let's face it, many things pop into your head upon hearing or reading a title like that. None of them are favorable, so I can only say I went into it primarily because of the favorable reviews, promising cast and an Original Screenplay Oscar nomination few know it even received. On paper, there are certainly worse choices out there, but that title. Is it a chick flick? Romantic comedy? A historical drama? A period piece?  After actually viewing, or rather experiencing it, and realizing it's none of those things at all, I've determined its admittedly artsy and somewhat pretentious title, while a nightmare for marketing purposes, is nearly as perfect as the film itself. Not to mention it's a real chore trying to come up with a better alternative.

It's difficult to fully articulate what 20th Century Women is "about" since it doesn't have what we're trained to recognize as a conventional movie plot or narrative. It's more of a memory of a specific time and place its characters will never have an opportunity to visit again. Yes, it's a coming-of-age film, on a surface level invoking comparisons to Almost Famous, American Beauty, The Wonder Years, and even a dash of The Ice Storm. And yet it's still kind of the opposite of those, as those comparisons fail to properly convey what Mike Mills creates, or rather maybe recreates here, in simultaneously depicting a watershed year in his adolescence while paying tribute to the life of his late mother without judgment or sentimentality. The title implies a focus on women, and there definitely is that, but what it's really about this young boy becoming a man in a world surrounded by women.

Despite its screenplay nomination, this isn't a "writer's movie" because it's doing too many other things exceptionally well to pigeonhole it. Flashbacks, voiceover narration, title cards, newsreel footage are so seamlessly infused into the narrative it's a small miracle we even know it's there, presenting them in ways both invisible and revolutionary. And then there's the music, which can't be discussed as merely a separate element of the film, but as the foundation on which it's built.
Name a character and chances are you'd likely be able associate them with a song since music isn't just on the soundtrack, but discussed, picked apart and analyzed at many points as a reflection of their lives. And none of this feels forced in any way, instead organically mirroring the generation gap at the story's core.

Santa Barbara, California. 1979. 15-year-old Jamie Fields (Lucas Jade Zumann) lives with his divorced mother, Dorothea (Annette Bening) in a boarding house that she runs. Her tenants include Abbie (Greta Gerwig), a punk-obsessed photographer from New York being treated for cervical cancer and William (Billy Crudup), a carpenter and mechanic who once spent time on a hippie commune. A frequent visitor is Jamie's best friend, Julie (Elle Fanning), a 17 year-old who climbs through his bedroom window to spend the night but won't have sex with him because she thinks it'll ruin their friendship.

Confused by Jamie's non-conformist behavior and finding it increasingly hard to connect with her teen son on any level, Dorothea recruits Abbie and Julie to help unofficially raise him. In doing that, she gets more than she bargained for, learning more about her son and even herself than was intended. And perhaps in the end, maybe learning nothing at all, as their complicated mother-son bond fades into the past and becomes a memory, stored alongside the time they spent with these wildly different personalities living under the same roof.

When the title card indicating the setting and year appears on screen and we see a kid coming up over the hills on a skateboard as composer Ryan Neill's ambient, Brian Eno-inspired 70's score kicks in, you just know to expect something special. And no, this isn't one of those indies full of quirky characters doing zany things. While they all have their idiosyncrasies, they're often steeped in a painful realism, its specificity carrying a universality that should ring true to anyone, regardless of age or era.

Having grown up during the Great Depression and even flown planes in her youth,  the no-nonsense, matter-of-fact Dorothea rarely pulls any punches in her frank assessments of both her tenants and son, even if that brutal honesty rarely extends to her own shortcomings. She had Jamie when she was into her forties and is now faced with the unenviable task of raising a teen boy alone after her unseen husband walked out. That one of the first images we see is his car catching fire in a parking lot speaks volumes about that exit and its repercussions.

Due to her age, the distance in taste and values between Dorothea and Jamie is probably greater than it otherwise would be, so without a male figure in his life, it makes sense in her mind to lean on the two other women in the house to school him on how to treat women. Of course, it's also kind of a terrible idea for obvious reasons, least among the fact that Abbie and Julie don't have themselves completely worked out yet either.  Mills lets us know these characters by framing them within a specific context, their backstories occasionally dispensed via emotionally detached voiceovers from them or maybe even another character, or sometimes documentary-style footage depicting the era through which they've lived.

Books like Sisterhood is Powerful and historical events such as Jimmy Carter's famous "Crisis of Confidence" make their presence known, maybe without warning, but certainly not without purpose. Everything here has a purpose, and with all the tricks Mills has up his sleeve, his greatest one is using all these devices to create this sinking feeling of the passage of time. And as specific as all these people are to the place and period in which they reside, their stay there feels fleeting. It's sad and scary, the magnitude of how short not really felt until the film's final minutes, which emotionally hits like a oncoming train.

Played by Greta Gerwig in a brilliant performance very much unlike the optimistic, free-spirit she's played so naturally in various indies through the years, Abbie's a little deeper, darker and rough around the edges, but unquestionably has her heart in the right place. With her Bowie-like hair she serves as Talking Heads' fan Jamie's entrance into the punk music and their scenes together very much recall the even younger protagonist's discovery of his sister's record collection in Almost Famous, only without the warm, fuzzy feelings accompanying it and substituting The Raincoats for Simon and Garfunkel. But it's through her medical crisis that she and Jamie form their strongest bond, despite Dorothea's eventual objections of Abbie schooling him on the feminist movement, to which she can't relate to at all. Or if she can, came from a generation where putting a label on it would seem ridiculous.

Considering how laid back and flaky Dorothea seems at times, she's often stuck-up, judgy and unpredictably offended at certain things that mark her not as an inconsistently written character, but a richly developed one full contradictions that make her more real and relatable. Bening has to keep flipping that switch between empathy and shattering directness draped in comic sarcasm.  Few others could do it, and while I was never much on board with all the complaining about Bening's continued lack of an Oscar, that she missed out on even just a nomination for this, her most complex work, feels like the cruelest snub yet. Just watch the scene when Jamie accurately sums his mother up by reading a book excerpt and how Bening handles Dorothea's reaction. Cold and true to life, but not entirely unfair. And maybe right.

A less complicated character, but compelling just the same, is Elle Fanning's Julie, who has Jamie befuddled at why her recent promiscuity seems to exclude him, despite them sharing a bed every night. The daughter of a psychiatrist, she thinks she has it all figured out at 17 and isn't shy about providing a free diagnosis for everyone. Of course, this all masks the fact that she doesn't know much of anything and her outdated view of masculinity and advice to Jamie seems so outdated even by 70's standards that it's actually come back around again. Of everyone, she carried the most risk of coming off as one-dimensional given her age and purpose in the story for the protagonist, or so it seems. But created by Mills as a composite of various friends and ex-girlfriends from his youth, and delicately brought to life by Fanning (who owns 2016 with this and the Neon Demon) , she becomes more than just the memory or unrequited crush of a 15-year-old boy. Or more accurately, she's exactly that and all the pain that comes with it, which is why this all works so well.

Initially, it would seem we're meant to root for Jamie and somehow see Julie as a villain for withholding sex, but the movie's too smart for such simplistic shading. They're actually using each other to some extent, with him allowing this to go on with expectations of more, even as she uses him as a therapist's couch for all her problems knowing full well his feelings run deeper. But as one character bluntly tells Jamie, it's his job to put an end to it. She's not presented as a narrative construct who will "rescue" him from the doldrums of adolescence as would occur in a lesser script, but instead as a frustratingly real, unpredictable and not entirely likable girl he'll never end up with. 

It's easy to snicker at the casting of Billy Crudup as William given the nature of his iconic role in Almost Famous, only this character isn't there as a friend or role model to Jamie. It's made clear pretty early on that Dorothea discounts him as a male figure who could connect with her son, mainly because he seems like such a space cadet. But like most of the other characters he defies type or description, with Mills depicting him as kind of a male slut who women use and promptly throw away without getting to know him. It's neat gender reversal, but like everyone else, he's desperate for any kind of human connection, while also amounting to both more and less than he appears on the surface. Unsurprisingly, he's most in tune with older generational outcast Dorothea and the scene where they attempt to "understand" the music Jamie listens to is one of the film's finest.

The late 70's probably wouldn't top many fans or critics' lists as one of the greatest eras in music, but what Mills gets is that your favorite is whatever era you grew up in or associate with your strongest memories. And for what it's worth, he makes as good a case as any for this period with the song choices he makes, which are entirely reflective of not just the characters, but the tone and mood of the picture right up until the closing minutes when two songs are juxtaposed from entirely different eras you'd never expect to hear on the same soundtrack. And that right there is the movie, as different people with unique personalities and at various stages in life all randomly converge in this time and place. The saddest part is that they may never see each other again, as is often the case with the most important, influential people in our lives. They're here, make their impact and then, just as quickly, they're gone.

The semi-autobiographical events Mills recounts all took place the year I was born and it's kind of eye-opening since no one ever tends to know much about the events of their birth year. It's often just a set of numbers with little context since all the major milestones occur within the following decade and beyond. He assigns meaning to that number and to objects and possessions, alerting us to what a turning point in time this was for those who lived through it. From then on, things changed for them and couldn't possibly return to how they were. Sometimes the most important important questions to ask when a movie concludes is whether you'll miss the characters when they're gone and whether you care what happens to them after the credits roll. We do actually find out what their futures hold beyond that, even as we're still willing to give anything for an extra minute with all of them.
                                            

Danny Collins

Director: Dan Fogelman
Starring: Al Pacino, Annette Bening, Jennifer Garner, Bobby Cannavale, Christopher Plummer, Katarina Čas, Giselle Eisenberg, Melissa Benoist, Josh Peck, Eric Michael Roy, Nick Offerman
Running Time: 106 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

About a decade ago, Neil Diamond released a Rick Rubin-produced album that was complete departure from anything he'd previously done, trading his usual, over-the-top bombast for an acoustic guitar and stripped down sound. The result was his biggest commercial and critical hit in years. I couldn't help but think of it while watching the immensely enjoyable Danny Collins, wondering if Diamond had a crisis similar to the title character to cause that change in course. Probably not, even if the aging rocker Al Pacino plays seems much closer in style to Diamond than the actual inspiration, folk singer Steve Tilston.

Just as his music was taking off in 1971, Tilston was written a letter of encouragement from John Lennon and Yoko Ono that he didn't receive until 34 years later, sparking a dramatic change in his life. As a concept, it's an ingenious starting point, made all the more satisfying screenwriter Dan Fogelman's (making his directorial debut) immediate acknowledgment that he'll be taking liberties with it. And they're mostly clever ones. But what's more amazing might be his ability to secure the rights to Lennon's music for the film, as some of his biggest solo hits punctuate key scenes. While I'm not sure it dramatically increases the overall experience and he goes a bit overboard with it, if ever a screenplay screamed out for Lennon's songs, it's this one.    

While Pacino's clearly channeling Diamond, he's also channeling Pacino, as it's impossible not to consider the actor's legendary career while watching and rooting for this character. It's not only a reminder of how long he's been at this, but perhaps some of the choices he's made along the way. Some good, others less so. This is one of those better choices and, as usual, he looks like he's having the time of his life.

Pacino plays Danny Collins, a show-stopping rocker whose fan base now primarily consists of older women singing along with his early 1970's pop hit, "Hey, Baby Doll." Filling up arenas by coasting on the success of that "Sweet Caroline"-like smash, he hasn't written any new material in 30 years and refuses to give up his costly, hard partying rock star lifestyle, which includes a girlfriend (Katarina Čas) half his age. But when his best friend and manager, Frank (Christopher Plummer) gives him a framed, 40-year-old undelivered letter written to him by John Lennon as a birthday gift, he's forced to reexamine his choices and consider how differently his life could have turned out had he gotten it.

Danny's suddenly determined to locate his estranged son, Tom (Bobby Cannavale), who's built a normal life with wife Samantha (Jennifer Garner) and daughter, Hope (Giselle Eisenberg) that emphatically excludes the celebrity father who abandoned him. But an indefinite stay at the local Hilton turns his attention to the hotel's no nonsense manager, Mary (Annette Bening), who he keeps trying to hit on. She keeps his ego in check as he reluctantly begins to write new material and attempts to find redemption with his family.

From the opening flashback scene, it's obvious this is going to be a good time. It shows a twenty-something Danny (Eric Michael Roy, a dead ringer for young Pacino) being interviewed by a music journalist (an unrecognizable Nick Offerman doing his best Lester Bangs) looking like a deer caught in headlights of fame. Scared to death by celebrity harming the artistic purity of his work, a letter from his idol could have provided him with some guidance and encouragement at just the right time. Instead, he became this larger than life showman, who never stopped to consider himself a sell-out until reading Lennon's letter delivers an unexpected jolt.

Danny's far from a failure, but it wouldn't be a stretch to call him somewhat a joke. At this point, he's famous for just being famous, having contributed nothing meaningful in years, yet still riding high with an enjoyable but tired act. Without naming names, we see it all the time, so it's easy to understand why he'd be afraid to step out of his comfort zone to try something artistically different. And it helps that Pacino plays him as this charming, wonderful, one-of-kind guy who just storms into this hotel like a force of nature and wins over everyone in sight, complimenting the staff and even trying to set the desk clerk (Whiplash's Melissa Benoist) up with the parking valet (Josh Peck). Only the seemingly humorless manager, Mary, remains unimpressed, which of course makes her his ideal equal.

Danny even eventually wears Mary down in the film's most successful sequence, with Pacino and Bening at their respective bests playing off each other in a hotel bar as their characters discover they have much more in common than they thought. They share such a natural chemistry (or "patter" as Danny calls it) that would feel entirely contrived with two other actors in the roles. Here, you're just lost in two real people just enjoying each others company. Their interplay is so seamless it's often tough to tell where Al and Annette end and Danny and Mary begin.

A development occurs almost midway through that's best not to talk about other than saying it comes out of the "Screenwriting 101" handbook and would likely get you kicked out of class. It's a credit to Fogelman's expertise, Pacino's convincing work and Bobby Cannavale's realistic, matter-of-fact performance as a working class father justifiably offended by Danny's arrival, that they pull it off. And as questionable as it looks on paper, that I'd have problems coming up with any reasonable alternatives must speak to its success on some level. Without it, we also wouldn't have gotten the unusually observant final scene, which puts a nice bow on the story while not depriving us of the (admittedly remote) possibility that maybe things don't work out.

In hindsight, the direction this goes does kind of make sense in that his son Tom's problems (more severe than expected) would get in the way of Danny's "happy ending" and redemption. After all, as likable a guy as he is, he's also an egomaniac who thinks the world revolves around him. Pacino plays these two sides of him so well that it's a blast seeing him bounce off everyone else.

Aside from Bening, who invests Mary with more depth than anticipated, Christopher Plummer smoothly and sarcastically conveys the experience of a music industry vet who simply tells it like it is. Jennifer Garner also gets some solid scenes opposite Pacino as the spouse more receptive to having Danny in their lives, despite the emotional risks to her husband and daughter. And as Hope, Giselle Eisenberg (no relation) accomplishes the rare child actor feat of being the precocious center of attention without becoming overbearing.

There's an alternate moviegoing universe in which Danny Collins tops the box office and becomes a giant hit for Pacino, possibly even earning him a nomination. That universe is the 1990's, when crowd-pleasing, star-driven adult dramas were still filling multiplexes. Consider the fact that this was released at all, and turned out this well, a victory in itself. And those justifiably lamenting that studios aren't making intelligent mainstream movies about older people anymore will find a lot to appreciate here. It's formulaic in every sense, but proof that in the right hands, the formula still works.

The Kids Are All Right

Director: Lisa Cholodenko
Starring: Annette Bening, Julianne Moore, Mark Ruffalo, Mia Wasakowska, Josh Hutcherson
Running Time: 104 min.
Rating: R

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Liberal Hollywood is at it again, this time taking the time out to kindly remind us that yes, same-sex marriage unions do exist and sometimes those involved in them even struggle with life problems every once in a while. But I doubt the problems they struggle with bare much resemblance to the sitcom-level farce that plays out in Lisa Cholodenko's The Kids Are All Right. Interestingly enough, the song "The Kids Are Alright" never once makes an appearance on the soundtrack which I guess isn't too surprising given the noticeable spelling change in the title to avoid a potential Pete Townshend lawsuit. That my thoughts frequently turned to music copyrighting issues while watching can't be a good sign (for me or the film), but sadly, it just might be the most interesting topic worth discussing. That title is unintentionally revealing as everything in the movie concerning the kids and their attempts to connect with their biological father is most definitely all right. It's the relationship between their cartoonish parents that's not. But don't feel too sorry for Annette Bening and Julianne Moore who, as talented as they are, sometimes seem entirely too comfortable lowering themselves with this material. It's easy to see why the film's been receiving a lot of praise but much of it has to do with its topic rather than what's actually on screen.

Jules (Moore) and Nic (Bening) are a lesbian couple living in California who may or may not be legally married (it's never made explicitly clear) and are raising their two teenage kids, Joni (Mia Wasikowska) and Laser (Josh Hutcherson). Each mother has given birth to one of the children by the same anonymous sperm donor, who Laser suddenly has the urge to track down and meet. Not yet 18, he has to rely on Jonie to make the call to this stranger who's their dad. The father turns out to be Paul (Mark Ruffalo), a likable, laid-back restaurateur who seems content in his freewheeling bachelor existence, having never known or cared to know about the responsibility that comes with being a parent. After an awkward first meeting over lunch he quickly bonds with the kids and becomes a part of their life, as well as the "moms," who have mixed feelings on Paul being suddenly inserted into the picture. Those mixed feelings become even more complicated when seemingly out of left field the friendship between he and Jules takes a romantic turn, threatening to rip this previously well-adjusted family apart.

I knew we were in for it when the film started with a scene of Jules and Nic in bed watching gay-male porn. Worse yet, it's followed up later with a scene of them explaining why to their kid and that human sexuality is a complicated thing blah blah blah. What are screenwriters thinking sometimes? If the film really wants to be about them being gay then by all means it should be, but if it doesn't, and wants to show how they're just like any normal couple with everyday problems, then do that. But you can't have it both ways by including a ludicrous scene meant to earn cheap laughs at the expense of their homosexuality. Maybe the scene's true to life. I have no idea. But that doesn't make it work any better within the context of the story being told on screen. That tonal clash runs throughout the picture so it's through little fault of Moore and Bening's that I never for a second believed they were a lesbian couple, especially when they're given such stereotypical characters to play. Nearly one word descriptions suffice. Jules is a new age hippie while Nic is a perfectionist control freak. The actresses do the best they can with the roles (Bening is a especially good in a memorable dinner table scene) but it's a lost cause when both are continually undermined by the sitcom machinations of what sometimes feels like a rejected Three's Company script.  The preposterous affair that occurs between Jules and Paul feels completely arbitrary and manufactured for drama, and even despite the performers' best efforts, it just isn't believable in the slightest.

The sub-plots involving the kids and their adolescent struggles are much more realistic and Wasikowska and Hutcherson are both fantastic at conveying the confusion of whether to let this guy in and trust him, as well as their own uncertainty of who they are. Wasikowska (the Alice in Alice in Wonderland) is especially effective and I'd rather nominate either of them for acting awards than Moore or Bening, who never have a chance to take off with these silly characters. Luckily, that's not necessary because we have Mark Ruffalo who nearly saves this film with his performance as a man tentatively embracing a massive change in his lifestyle. He goes from being kind of open to the idea, to going with it and then to just totally freaking out when he realizes what it would mean, and sells it all believably. He also creates the kind of personality for Paul where you'd understand why the kids would find him cool and the moms would have major problems with it. Everything involving him and the kids works on every level and he find a way to elevate every scene in, appearing to do so effortlessly. Because of him, HALF this film is a success.

If the writers removed the gimmick at its center the movie would be more likely to be seen for the middling effort it is, and while it would turn out no better or worse, at least it would be slightly less patronizing. When you put all the pieces together, it's just a near-miss in terms of actual quality and I'm not trying to dismiss Bening's strong performance, but this is just the latest example of a cinematic public service announcement being rolled out for awards attention. Whether it's war, rape, discrimination, teen pregnancy, or any other timely social issue, we see this happen every year, but that doesn't mean it has to be so transparent or it can't be done well. The big question to ask coming out of The Kids Are All Right is if you replaced the lesbian couple with a straight one whether it would make any difference at all, and if it did, whether anyone would still care.

Running With Scissors

Director: Ryan Murphy
Starring: Annette Bening, Brian Cox, Joseph Fiennes, Joseph Cross, Evan Rachel Wood, Alec Baldwin, Jill Clayburgh, Gwyneth Paltrow, Gabrielle Union, Kristen Chenoweth
Running Time: 126 min.
Rating: R

*** (out of ****)

"It ain't reality, just someone else's sentimentality. It won't work for you Baby boomers selling you rumors of their history. Forcing youth away from the truth of what's real today The kids of today should defend themselves against the 70's."
-Eddie Vedder

There have been some questions as to just how much of what happens in Augusten Burroughs' best selling memoir Running with Scissors (which I haven't read) is completely fact based. For Burroughs' sake and our own I almost hope none of it is because that would mean some of the characters we meet during the course of Ryan Murphy's cinematic adaptation of the novel could still be roaming the streets. That's a scary thought, but one I'm not discounting because I have no doubt that people at least similar to the ones depicted in this film do actually exist.

Running with Scissors was widely regarded by audiences and critics as the single worst film of 2006 and I can completely see why. After posting this review I'm sure I'll get feedback telling me all the different ways this movie is terrible and I'll likely agree with every single one of them. However, something very unusual happened for me while watching this that I'm forced to give in and admit it. Against all good judgment and logic I was actually enjoying it and by the time it was over I couldn't deny it was a memorable experience. It was like watching a train wreck and I must say I laughed much of the way through.

The film is a complete mess. It's tone is inconsistent, the performances are over the top, its two hour running time feels like days and the movie runs out of steam three quarters of the way through. When it was over I felt like I needed to enter therapy myself. Yet, it works. Actually no, let me re-phrase that. It doesn't work exactly, but for better or worse, it sure is entertaining. And given the characters and the story I can't imagine any other style in which this movie could have been made. The story also somehow manages to come together in the end and have a lot of heart, despite its insanity.

We're told the story of fourteen year-old Augusten Burroughs (Joseph Cross) who struggles to survive the disintegration of his parents' marriage in 1978. His mother Deirdre (Annnette Bening) is a delusional aspiring poet prone to fits of rage and frequent emotional and physical battles with her alcoholic husband Norman (a great, dry Alec Baldwin) whom she claims will eventually kill her. To say this woman is mentally ill would likely be the understatement of the century, but one of the best things about the movie is even though the part is written as broad caricature Bening digs deeper than that and lets us see her vulnerability even in her most absurd fits of silliness (and believe me there are plenty).

The Burroughs' seek marriage counseling from psychiatrist Dr. Finch, who's part father figure, part psychotic Svengali and has a room adjacent to his office he refers to as his "masturbatorium." You could probably guess what he proudly uses it for. The Burroughs' separate, Norman moves out and Augusten is sent to live with Dr. Finch and his bizarre family while Deidre is shacked up in a hotel, over-medicated with her mental health slowly cracking away. She also turns to lesbianism with a woman she verbally abuses in her poetry group (played by Kristen Chenoweth) because... well, let's just say the movie is weird.

What young Augusten finds when he arrives at the Finch's giant pink house of horrors would be enough to traumatize any human being for life, but as rendered onscreen, it's pretty damn funny. We meet Dr. Finch's wife Agnes (Jill Clayburgh) who's had the Christmas tree up for two years and spends her days on the couch watching Dark Shadows and eating dog food. His oldest daughter Hope (Gwyneth Paltrow) traps her cat in a laundry basket for a week without food or water and uses the Bible as a magic eight ball guiding her on what they should have for dinner.

The youngest daughter Natalie (Evan Rachel Wood) is a teenage sexpot who likes to play with her father's electroshock therapy machine, but is actually the most normal of the bunch. She wants to go to college but is trapped by the craziness that surrounds her. Augusten immediately forms a bond with her that should go further than friendship but can't since Augusten is gay. I think it's this relationship that gives the movie it's emotional weight and focus. The Finches also have a frequent houseguest in Neil Bookman (an unrecognizable Joseph Fiennes) a patient and adopted son of Dr. Finch who still comes in for therapy sessions and sneaks into the house at night to try and stab him with scissors. He starts a sexual relationship with Augusten, crueling and clumsily initiating him into the adult world way too early. When I say Fiennes is unrecognizable in this role I mean it. I had no idea it was him until glimpsing the final credits.

The movie grabs us by the throat and chokes us with 70's nostalgia. This film isn't just set in the 70's, it is the 70's. It dives head first into the garish fashions, disgusting décor, and pop music that permeated through the latter part of the decade. The set and costume design on this movie is absolutely top notch and the Finch house is not just a setting, it's a character in the film. A historical artitifact of the time representing the absolute worst of the decade. Director Murphy (creator of t.v.'s Nip/Tuck) really got this right.

The pop music of the time is hilariously and inappropriately misplaced throughout the film on many occasions to the point where I started to wonder if this may have been done intentionally as a joke. Whether it was or not I could care less. It was funny and entertaining either way. I'm never a fan of music forcing it's way into a motion picture but the marriage of seventies pop music and the offbeat insane characters that populate this blackest of black comedies strangely makes a lot of sense.

If someone told me I had to make a movie and could assemble any all-star team of actors I wanted, there's a good chance I would cast many of the stars of this movie. Running with Scissors is no way Oscar worthy, but a few of the performances could be. There are those who are going to love Annette Bening's Golden Globe nominated turn as the mentally ill Deidre and those who will absolutely hate it with a passion. I can't argue with either one, but you could probably guess which side of the fence I fall on. One thing that can't be debated, however, is that Bening is one talented lady and it took a lot of guts for her to take this on.

Brian Cox lets the humanity seap through as Dr. Finch, who could have easily just been portrayed as a manipulative old quack. Cox never lets it go there and gives us the impression he may actually be a good man with pure intentions, he just flys off the deep end. He also manages to get the biggest laughs of the film. Gwyneth Paltrow's role as Hope is so small it could almost be considered a cameo but she makes the most of what she has and is an important character in establishing the unhappiness and craziness that accompanies the Finch family and the film.

The entire movie, though, belongs to Cross and Wood and their performances as disaffected youths ground the film and help it eventually become what it wants to be: a coming of age tale. They share the screen for the film's best scene when they demolish the kitchen ceiling as Al Stewart's "Year of the Cat" blasts over the soundtrack. Their ceiling, but more importantly their world, is closing in and they need to escape everything the only way they know how. As Augusten, Cross is a spectator to the insanity that sorrounds him, while deftly hinting at the despair and lonliness lying just beneath the surface. Wood continues to prove she's one of our most promising young actresses giving Natalie the proper mix of anger, sexiness and vulnerability. Watching, you may feel like them. Trapped, confused and looking for a way out. That was the point.

The movie did something I really liked at the end and told us what happened to the real people these characters were based on. If I'm going to spend two hours with these characters I'd like to know what happened to them. This leads to a nice moment where the real Augusten Burroughs shares the screen with his movie counterpart. You could take exception with this and claim Burroughs is just patting himself on the back but in my book anyone who lived through something like this deserves at the very least a pat on the back. I'd even go as far as to say they deserve a book deal and a movie about their life.

Saying this film isn't for all tastes doesn't quite do it justice. It really isn't for any tastes and doesn't pull any punches. It has balls of steel. The term "it's so bad it's good" was never more applicable than it is here. When it was over I was sure I hated it, but then I realized I wouldn't soon forget a single character, performance or line in the film and I had witnessed an interesting exporation of mental illness and its consequences. More importantly, I had witnessed a story that at it's core is about overcoming adversity and coming out on the other side okay. Congratulate Augusten Burroughs, but more importantly congratulate yourselves if you can sit through it. Running With Scissors is a disaster, but an unforgettable one.