Leave the World Behind

Director: Sam Esmail
Starring: Julia Roberts, Mahershala Ali, Ethan Hawke, Myha'la, Farrah Mackenzie, Charlie Evans, Kevin Bacon
Running Time: 141 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Writer/director Sam Esmail's Leave the World Behind follows a long tradition of apocalyptic thrillers that stretch beyond the likes of M. Night Shyamalan's Knock at the Cabin from earlier this year. Comparing the two, this isn't as much a departure in tone than execution, as the Mr. Robot creator prioritizes interpersonal relationships over mystery. By doing this, his characters exist to make broader generalizations about America's infrastructural and societal vulnerabilities, zeroing in on how people respond to chaos and crisis. 

Based upon Rumaan Alam's 2020 novel, it's easy to see how these elements attracted producers Barack and Michelle Obama, even if it's not necessarily the type of project you'd expect to see them credited on. But it is one that very much exists in the here and now, setting its sights firmly on a frightening near-future that already seems to have arrived. There are eye-rolling moments and plot holes, but as far as doomsday scenarios go, it doesn't fly too far off the rails. We watch as these people scramble, their best and worst traits coming to the surface in the midst of an unpredictably hopeless situation.

New York-based advertising executive Amanda Sandford (Julia Roberts) wakes up one morning and informs her college professor husband Clay (Ethan Hawke) they're going on an impromptu vacation to Long Island with their two kids Rose (Farrah Mackenzie) and Archie (Charlie Evans). Upon arriving at the luxurious rental house, they decide to hit the beach, where an incident involving an out-of-control oil tanker and their sudden loss of TV and Wi-Fi raises suspicions. But it isn't until the home's self-proclaimed owner G.H. Scott (Mahershala Ali) and his daughter Ruth (Myha'la) arrive at the front door in the middle of the night that things get complicated.

Financial advisor G.H. cites a citywide blackout as their reason for returning, and while a distrustful Amanda isn't buying it, the more amiable Clay agrees to let them stay overnight when G.H. offers them a refund. With news alerts reporting hackers are behind the cyberattack, the two families argue about the right approach, gradually realizing this situation is far worse than any of them assumed. With the clock running out to formulate a plan, Amanda further questions how much G.H. and Ruth really know, as everyone's chances of survival hang in the balance.

It's to Roberts' credit that she's all in for this since it just might be her most unlikeable character yet. The performance is essentially a more nuanced take on Sandra Bullock's privileged white woman turn in Crash, complete with some of the racist undertones. Amanda isn't shy about sharing her world view in the film's third wall breaking opening scene, establishing herself as a miserable, self-loathing elitist who indiscriminately despises everyone. The actress believably pulls this off, all while exploring some greyer areas that have us questioning Amanda's true feelings and motivations.

Hawke's more easygoing, far less confrontational Clay seems to accept H.G.'s story with little hesitation, even as he sees no issue with the homeowner and his daughter being relegated to the basement. But H.G. knows something more than he's letting on, and to a far lesser extent, so does Ruth, which only adds to the tension. Mahershala Ali is subtly effective as the calm, steady voice of reason, particularly shining in the scenes where he and Roberts' characters loosen up, discovering more in common than either anticipated.

Myha'la sort of steals the film as rebellious, free thinking Ruth, going toe-to-toe with Roberts in some of the best scenes. While Amanda's disdain for the young woman is evident from the moment they meet, Ruth's easily the most observant and practical of the bunch. Telling it like it is without fear of consequences, she pushes the buttons that shake them out of their bewilderment and complacency.

Self-driving Tesla car wrecks, severed body parts, plane crashes, alarmingly large herds of deer and deafening noises aren't isolated incidents and indicate a worst case scenario that's further confirmed when they step outside. Kevin Bacon appears as a paranoid survivalist and it's downright surreal to see him and Hawke together on screen for first time, maybe finally disproving that popular theory they're the same person. There's also a pretty humorous subplot involving daughter Rose's obsession with finishing a Friends binge cut short by the cyberattack. This seems like a throwaway joke, but Esmail remains committed to paying it off.

By the time viewers are clued into how cataclysmic this event is, it's too late for the characters, who will either turn on each other or unite to pull through. At points, you'd be forgiven for thinking the plot's a troll job intended to send conspiracy theorists into a tailspin, especially since it's so firmly rooted in current events, with few, if any, supernatural elements at play. Its ironic conclusion doesn't insult the audience's intelligence either, with Esmail resisting that temptation to explain everything away. If nothing else, it makes an unusually strong case for holding on to your physical media. 

Like 2022's White Noise, or even the more similar 80's cult classic Miracle Mile, Leave the World Behind deals with philosophical and existential questions resulting from such a disaster, especially the mistrust. It's in good company, despite conveniently withholding certain information and biting off more than it can chew at nearly two and a half hours. Thankfully the cast carries it, with talented actors squaring off in a genre they've rarely tackled.         

The Black Phone

Director: Scott Derrickson
Starring: Mason Thames, Madeleine McGraw, Ethan Hawke, Jeremy Davies, E. Roger Mitchell, Troy Rudeseal, James Ransone, Miguel Cazarez Mora, Rebecca Clarke, J. Gaven Wilde, Spencer Fitzgerald, Jordan Isaiah White, Brady Ryan, Tristan Pravong, Jacob Moran, Brady Hepner, Banks Repeta
Running Time: 103 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

A crime thriller and supernatural slasher make for strange bedfellows in writer/director Scott Derrickson's The Black Phone. Adapted from a 2004 short story by Joe Hill (son of Stephen King), it's easy to see why this has gotten so much attention since there's much to admire, with some really affecting performances from its young actors and an outrageously villainous turn from a major star that feels like a drastic departure. It also sees the underrated Derrickson (Sinister and Dr. Strange) further proving his chops by bringing a certain amount of respectability and craftmanship to some familiar tropes we've seen executed far clumsier in the past. And even when mechanically fulfilling certain required beats of the plot, he still manages to keep tension high throughout, thanks in no small part to a realistically unnerving period backdrop.

Containing some effective jump scares, it opens as almost a 70's true crime docudrama before merging with a horror entry mainstream enough for its antagonist to draw comparisons to Michael Myers, Jason or Jigsaw. His methods and idealology might be different, but the spectacle is there, with an instantly iconic look that would sell truckloads of Halloween masks each year if not for the marketing hurdle that the villain's a child abductor. And that's the push-pull of this creep fest Derrickson admirably navigates with a visual aesthetic dripping in the era in which it takes place. Because of the disturbing subject matter, certain moments can be taken very seriously, as the gears grind on a plot that delivers extreme discomfort alongside its entertainment.  

In 1978 a serial kidnapper nicknamed "The Grabber"(Ethan Hawke) roams the streets of a small Denver suburb in his black van searching for his next target while siblings Finney (Mason Thames) and Gwen Blake (Madeleine McGraw) struggle to contend with their alcoholic, physically abusive father Terrence (Jeremy Davies). At school, the shy Finney is constantly bullied, with his only friend Robin (Miguel Cazarez Mora) coming to the rescue but recognizing Finney will eventually have to stand up for himself. 

With The Grabber's victims growing in number as Finney's classmates disappear, Gwen (who's inherited her late mother's psychic abilities) starts having dreams about the crimes that pique police  interest. But they'll need her help when Finney's abducted by The Grabber, awaking in a grungy basement with a disconnected black rotary phone on the wall ringing mysteriously. To escape, he'll have to listen to the voices of the previous victims making contact on the line, guiding him as he finds the courage to outmaneuver this masked monster. 

Establishing itself in a way most horror entries don't, this carries an aura of authenticity that completely draws you into the setting. From the sights and sounds to the 70's soundtrack and wardrobe choices, it's all more than mere window dressing when juxtaposed with news-style footage of the kidnappings. This overpromises in teasing a scenario you're just not sure Derrickson's script (co-penned by C. Robert Cargill) can deliver on, as we dread what potential creative concessions will come to make it more audience-friendly. Those eventually arrive, but for its opening stretch, a mood and atmosphere is established that feels truly unique. 

Believably creating a deep onscreen sibling bond, Thames and McGraw's performances are might be the film's biggest asset, as their scenes opposite a bearded, unhinged Davies carry a uneasiness matched only by the school-set bullying sequences. And a couple of those are realistically violent enough to seem completely at home in the era, relying far more on the build than copious amounts of gore. Derrickson also wisely keeps The Grabber out of view in the initial stages, saving most of the character's best scenes for when Finney ends up in his clutches. 

Coming and going as the plot dictates, Gwen's psychic visions are the story's weakest link, but McGraw's such a revelation in the role you overlook it, bringing humor, warmth and spunk to a girl who doesn't toe the line and is as protective of her brother as he is of her. Still, it's tempting to imagine how it all could have played without her Shining-like powers dictating the plot since so much of this is already strong enough on its own. While the supernatural flourishes don't ever quite reconcile with the viciousness of the actual crimes, an exception comes with a spectacularly filmed sequence where Gwen's visions take her inside the personal history of someone who could have all the answers.

If the black phone of the title connecting Finney to The Grabber's victims sometimes feels gimmicky, the cat-and-mouse game between captor and captive doesn't. It mostly overcomes genre contrivances since Finney's backstory as an under-confident pushover powers the narrative forward as he attempts to somehow gain an advantage on his abductor. With a handful of black balloons and a smiling mask inspired by Lon Chaney's character in London After Midnight, Ethan Hawke's all in as this deranged child murderer fronting as an amateur magician. It's hard not to draw comparisons to Pennnywise or a demented Willy Wonka, but Hawke makes this top-hatted madman his own and the last act delivers what's expected about as well as possible. 

All the ingredients were there for this to entirely break from convention and put more standard horror fare to shame, but that's just not what the source material is, earning the remainder of its points from Brett Jutkiewicz's cinematography and Patti Podesta's production design. Of Blumhouse's recent releases, The Black Phone stands as one of its more ambitious, doing enough to please devotees of Hill's short story and fans of the unquestionably talented Derrickson, whose best film is likely still ahead of him.                            

Boyhood

Director: Richard Linklater
Starring: Ellar Coltrane, Patricia Arquette, Lorelei Linklater, Ethan Hawke, Marco Perella, Brad Hawkins, Jenni Tooley, Zoe Graham, Charlie Sexton
Running Time: 165 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

The most amazing thing about Richard Linklater's Boyhood is how it becomes the story of whomever watches it, as viewers can't help but reconfigure it in their minds to fit the templates of their lives and memories growing up. Ask anyone about this movie and I'll guarantee that within minutes they'll be talking about themselves. That's just how hard it hits. While it'll probably strike the loudest chord for millenials or parents who raised a child in that age bracket, the story is universal, resonating just as much for those, like me, who happen to fall right in the middle. In seamlessly recreating the feeling of watching life unfold in front of our eyes, much attention has been paid to the fact that Linklater was somehow able to covertly shoot this over a 12-year period, allowing his actors to naturally age on screen. It's an authenticity that all the CGI and make-up in Hollywood can't replicate, but it's not a gimmick. You hardly notice it's happening and it rarely calls attention to itself, instead enveloping the story like a warm blanket.

Linklater uses this tool but never abuses it to weave a narrative that unfolds with all the realism of a documentary, while also making sure it never merely feels like an experiment. Until now, the closest we've come to this is Michael Apted's Up series, which followed its subjects as they aged and Linklater's own Before trilogy which followed its pair of leads over the years. But this is different in that it's one standalone fictional film, despite being at least partially inspired by the director's childhood and own experiences as a father. And as someone who really appreciates music and pop culture as time markers, nothing made me happier than seeing it expertly used in such a way here. Everyone will have their favorite moments and parts to which they most relate, regardless of age. For once, 165 minutes almost doesn't seem long enough, even if it ends exactly where it should.

The film opens with six-year old Mason Evans, Jr. (Ellar Coltrane) lying on the grass staring at sky as the strains of Coldplay's "Yellow" blast over the soundtrack. The year is 2002 and Mason lives in Texas with his single mother, Olivia (Patricia Arquette) and older sister Samantha (Lorelei Linklater). Their father, Mason Sr. (Ethan Hawke) is largely absent, occasionally dropping in on weekends to take the kids bowling or to an Astros game. Taking classes and hoping to start a career as a psychology professor, Olivia struggles to provide for the kids while introducing a series of abusive men into their lives, each of which fail as suitable replacement for their real father.

With the family moving more than a few times, we follow Mason as he grows up and attempts to adjust, only to be uprooted again as Olivia tries to find herself. He says goodbye to close friends, makes new ones, faces off with a vicious stepfather, gets his first job and girlfriend, experiments with drugs and alcohol and eventually heads off to college. It all occurs as his relationships with his parents and sister evolve, set against the backdrop of key cultural events.

If someone told me this boy was being played by the same actor over the years I'm not sure I'd even believe them because he looks and acts so different at each life stage. With growth spurts and bad haircuts, it's as fun to watch the character evolve as it is to chart Coltrane's progression as an actor for over a decade, but condensed for us into feature film length, which only magnifies the impact. Thanks to Linklater and editor Sandra Adair the transitions between time periods are not only seamless, but invisible, often causing me to do a double take just to confirm we've moved on to the next stage.

As difficult as it may have been to keep the shooting of this project under wraps, you'd figure it had to be even harder to edit it all into a cohesive whole. While it sometimes meanders as life literally does, there was never a point where my attention was diverted or found the protagonist irritating, even when entering an angry high school phase that Coltrane infuses with heartbreaking sincerity. What doesn't change is that Mason is basically a shy, quiet kid throughout, challenging the notion that all movie leads must drive the action. Frequently, the action's happening to him as he sensitively responds to all that occurs, and is constantly changing as a result.

Certain movies can allow us to sympathize with those we wouldn't even try to defend or understand in reality because judgment gets in the way. That's the power in Patricia Arquette's career-high, award worthy performance as a single mother who seems to makes all the wrong choices for herself and her kids, at least a couple of times putting them in harm's way for the sake of trying to create a stable home life. Inadvertently, she does just the opposite, to the point that it would be very easy to call Olivia a terrible mother, and at times maybe even a selfish one. But Arquette changes the conversation, simply playing her as a desperate mom who screws up a lot, but has her good qualities as well. While we never see or hear exactly what happened to cause the deterioration of her marriage to Mason Sr., it's easy to put the pieces together from their brief, contentious interactions with each other regarding his visitation and frequent unemployment.

Hawke (who barely even looks to age throughout), appears more sporadically than Arquette, but his role in Mason's life is crucial, only increasing in importance as he enters adolescence. Of all the characters, he's the one who changes the most, but I liked how they committed to making him a good guy despite some maturity issues many would relate to. Far from a deadbeat dad stereotype, it's fascinating to watch Hawke believably play the evolution of a guy completely unqualified at giving any relationship or life advice to a full-blown expert by the film's end. Even at his worst, he's better than a couple of nightmare father replacements Olivia brings into their lives, one of whom is the centerpiece of the film's most uncomfortable section.

As Olivia's second husband Bill, character actor Marco Perella steals the show with a terrifying depiction of an abusive alcoholic who wrecks havoc on their new blended family. He starts out as a seemingly mild-mannered college professor, but Perella is brilliant as he slowly reveals the cracks hinting that something's really off with this creep. First it's a couple of drinks. Then a few passing comments to the kids hinting at his temper. Before long, he's like Bill Parcells on a bender. Then finally, his transformation into full-fledged monster is complete. He makes it happen so subtly and surprisingly that there's hardly a moment to come up for air.

Lorelei Linklater's work as Samantha can't be overlooked given how groan-inducing it can often be when directors cast family members in key roles, especially their offspring. A complete natural on screen, there's good reason to think she'd beat any young actress out for the part anyway. As we watch her evolve from a little girl to sullen young adult before our eyes it's remarkable just how much of her offbeat personality is retained over that twelve year-period and how naturally she interacts with her onscreen parents and brother. 

The look on Mason's face when he realizes his dad traded in his souped up Pontiac GTO for a minivan says it all. The past is the past. We grow old. Time marches on with or without us. And it's scary. Linklater knows that nostalgia can be the most powerful feeling there is, as well as our biggest obstacle in moving forward. If it's not a valuable possession, then often it's music invoking an emotional connection to a specific time and place. Boyhood's soundtrack is more than just a collection of songs, but a document of a specific year, associating music with milestones.

Featuring everything from Bob Dylan to Wilco to The Black Keys to Arcade Fire, it's definitely one of the most stacked compilations of recent years, but more rewarding because of the context. And at the risk of spoiling it, I won't even go into what's done with The Beatles and how their catalog is, but actually isn't, incorporated into the film. It would be interesting to find out how much of the music was chosen at the various shooting times versus what was added recently in post-production. The script takes a similar approach with cultural events, taking us from post 9/11 to the Obama's election to the rise of social media, giving us the opportunity to open up a time capsule exposing the attitudes and feelings of the day. At one point Mason and his dad have conversation about the Star Wars franchise that's almost eerie given current developments.

Those who came from a single parent home or were shuffled  from school to school as a child will connect to that section the most. A single father around Hawke's character's age will likely find a lot to connect to there, as would any single mother who even remotely went through anything close to what Arquette's Olivia did. The last third of the picture resonated strongest for me, as Mason prepares to head off to college, questioning everything and unsure of his place in the world. We've seen this kind of story arc before, but rarely presented so authentically and impactfully in such a compressed time. Mason and his first serious girlfriend, Sheena (an excellent Zoe Graham) stumbling and bumbling through their feelings for each other is a high point, as every interaction between them just seems so real and natural. There's a big rant from Mason about modern technology and an inspirational speech he receives from a teacher, but it's a soundtrack choice during this section that's most unforgettable, with Linklater unearthing a very recent gem that's somehow slid through the cracks, going unappreciated until that moment.  

It's logical to think of Mason as Linklater's surrogate in much the same way William Miller stood in for Cameron Crowe in Almost Famous. Inspired by its writer, but very much his own character, he's stated in interviews how he was torn between using his jock or artsy side growing up as the template for Mason. The latter proved to be the right choice, both for the character and the actor, especially considering the dramatic possibilities it opens up in the third act, as an introspective loner looks for answers. It ends up being the culmination of not only Mason's story, but his parents' as well.

Whatever perceived mistakes the parents made in raising these kids, they must have done something right since both turned out better than okay despite the obstacles. Or maybe even because of them. And then comes the perfect closing scene, that creates the spontaneous feeling of arriving out of nowhere when in fact it was waiting for us the entire time. With a filmmaker digging down deep to pull out something we didn't know he had, in both concept and execution Boyhood accomplishes the special feat of depicting a coming-of-age story in a way we've never seen before.
 

Before The Devil Knows You're Dead

Director: Sidney Lumet
Starring: Philip Seymour Hoffman, Ethan Hawke, Albert Finney, Marisa Tomei, Rosemary Harris, Michael Shannon, Bryan F. O'Byrne, Amy Ryan
Running Time: 116 min.
Rating: R

**1/2 (out of ****)

Before The Devil Knows You're Dead is essentially a film about two losers who make a series of stupid decisions that wreck their lives. When it was over I was sure I enjoyed it, but the more I thought about it I realized, aside from some sure-footed direction from a filmmaking legend and two outstanding performances, there wasn't really anything particularly great about it or worth recommending. The director of the film is Sidney Lumet, who's stated in interviews that he's gotten sick of reporters and critics mentioning how old he is. I don't blame him since I agree the age of a filmmaker should have no bearing on anything. So, let's just say he's up there in years. Watching the film I never would have guessed the age of the director, but more disappointingly, I also wouldn't have guessed it was directed by the same man who made Serpico, Dog Day Afternoon and Network.

It's not fair to compare this to those classics and while this is definitely one of his lesser efforts, it is still better than many directors' best. But his work is undermined here by a silly script that bombards us with an annoying narrative device that prevents us from caring about any of the characters. This is all in spite of an Award-worthy performance from one of our greatest actors and book ending the film with a shocking opening and closing scene. But all they are is shocking and that's the problem. I actually found myself laughing a lot during this film, which couldn't have been Lumet's intent.

Andy Hanson (Phillip Seymour Hoffman) and his younger brother Hank (Ethan Hawke) are losers at life. Andy is stuck in a pressure-filled job he hates while struggling with drug addiction. He dreams of coming into a windfall of cash so he and his beautiful wife Gina (Marisa Tomei) can leave the country. They have intimacy issues but you'd never know it from the opening scene, which features them having wild sex. I guess after you've won an Oscar one of the perks is getting to do a scene like this, but something tells me it was probably more embarrassing and nerve-racking for the actors than exciting. Gina is having a secret affair with Hank, whose life is equally in shambles. He can't afford the child support payments to his ex-wife (played by Amy Ryan) and the two are at each other's throats constantly.

Andy comes up with a solution to both their problems with a plan to rob a mom and pop jewelry store. This mom and pop in question just so happens to actually be mom and pop (Rosemary Harris and Albert Finney). Having worked there in the past they both know the layout and since their folks are fully insured they won't lose anything. A disguised Hank will case the joint on a Saturday morning although he's completely unaware their mother is covering that shift for an absentee associate. The problem with this master plan is that Hank isn't the brightest bulb in the box, nor does he trust himself to go through with this. He hires a hot-headed out-of-town thug (played by Bryan F. O' Byrne) to help him out and everything goes all wrong. It's worth noting that Rosemary Harris' performance in the robbery scene is truly awful, turning what should be an edge-of your-seat sequence into a screwball comedy with her cartoonish facial expressions. The second half of the picture deals with the serious fallout from this tragedy and Finney's character's suspicions into what happened. The more Andy and Hank try to cover their tracks after the robbery the deeper a hole they dig themselves into.

It's hard to determine which half of this film works best. On one hand, the first hour is at times a very interesting character study highlighted by a terrific Hoffman performance as this pathetic and desperate man. But this section of the film is mired by something very annoying. Kelly Masterson's script constantly zigs and zags, flashing forward and flashing back to let us know what happened "1 Day Before The Robbery," "2 Days Before The Robbery," "2 Weeks After The Robbery," "7 Days After The Fifth Leap Year And Approximately 2 Minutes and 15 Seconds Before The Robbery." It's so irritating. Not so much because of the confusion it creates, but because it's pointless. There's no reason for it. When used sparingly this device can be successful and actually add to the story (see Michael Clayton), but here it's just a distraction and distances us from the characters. We're too concerned trying to figure out what day and week we're on to actually care about what they're doing. It was clearly done in an attempt to make the film feel hip and new rather than enhance the material.

The second half of the film crackles with more intensity and belongs to Hawke, whose Hank could write a book on how to look as suspicious as possible after you've committed a crime. But it's just how anyone would act and a scene he has at a car rental office as just about as tension-filled as you can get. Again though, Masterson's script gives in to temptation and takes things too far. Everything escalates to ridiculous levels, which wouldn't be a problem so long as the story didn't take place in a fantasy world where cops don't exist. That's especially surprising considering this is a Lumet film. The script shifts from Andy and Hank covering their tracks so well that no cops could find them out, to their actions (especially Andy's) becoming so complicated and bizarre you wonder how any cop could even put the pieces together without their head exploding. Maybe that's why Masterson chose to write the law out entirely. It was just too much to deal with. The ending doesn't give us the closure a film like this needs and the final scene is downright laughable. That's really all I can say about it. Albert Finney is a gifted actor, but there's was no way even he could pull this off believably.

Despite my misgivings, Hawke and especially Hoffman turn in superb work. While they're movie stereotypes with movie problems like drug addiction and unpaid child support, these actors invest them with something more and I tried my best to care what happened to them. The ludicrous screenplay just wouldn't let me though. I not only believed them as brothers, but also that Hoffman's character could be married to Marisa Tomei. If that's not great acting I don't know what it is. Speaking of Tomei her sole purpose in the film seems to be to generate as much traffic as possible for the Mr. Skin website by appearing topless for nearly every one of her scenes. No complaints from me on that front, but I just expected her to play a bigger role in the proceedings. She's all but discarded in the third act.

On the DVD's special features Lumet describes the film as a "melodrama. That's a very accurate description. I think the reason this film has garnered such high praise is because people are just thrilled that one of the directors from the golden age of 70's cinema hasn't sold out and is still producing work of value and integrity at his advanced age. I completely agree that that's admirable, but just hoped to get a little more out of the picture. Burdened with a mediocre screenplay, Lumet did the best he could and likely a lot better than many other directors would have. I really wanted to like this but just couldn't bring myself to. Attempts to tell a deep story involving family and betrayal were sabotaged by the script's silly games. Before The Devil Knows You're Dead isn't a bad film at all, it just isn't anything we haven't seen before in the heist genre.