Drive-Away Dolls

Director: Ethan Coen
Starring: Margaret Qualley, Geraldine Viswanathan, Beanie Feldstein, Colman Domingo, Pedro Pascal, Bill Camp, Joey Slotnick, C.J. Wilson, Annie Gonzalez, Matt Damon
Running Time: 84 min.
Rating: R

★★½ (out of ★★★★) 

Drive-Away Dolls is an entertainingly bad comedy from a talented director who makes it more tolerable than it has any right being. So much so that while watching you can't help but consider just how much worse this could have turned out with someone other than Ethan Coen at the controls. It's primarily about this bond between two lesbian friends, with the crime caper they've unwittingly walked into finishing a close second. And while Coen and co-writer Tricia Cooke intended this to be released as Henry James' Drive-Away Dykes, it's no surprise to anyone why the studio wouldn't gamble on that title, which is actually more in line with the film's wacky tone. 

The movie's at its lowest when drowning in crude humor that occasionally feels dated even for the decade it's supposed to take place. But the real kicker is that the characters are fully developed and a smattering of jokes land, even if cringing viewers may find themselves wishing it were somehow less polished. Maybe if this wasn't well made, the scene transitions weren't so inventive or it didn't contain such good performances, an outright dismissal would feel easier. Unfortunately, it's still a mess, straddling genres while seemingly targeting two entirely different audiences.

It's 1999 in Philadelphia when Jamie (Qualley) and her best friend Marian (Viswanathan) make plans for a road trip to Tallahassee, Florida after Jamie's ugly break-up with girlfriend Sukie (Beanie Feldstein). But when drive away car service owner Curlie (Bill Camp) accidentally leases the girls a vehicle already booked by criminals Arliss (Joey Sotnick), Flint (C.J. Wilson) and The Chief (Colman Domingo), they're unknowingly stuck with cargo stolen from an eccentric collector (Pedro Pascal). 

While Jamie tries to get the straight-laced Marian to loosen up by taking detours to lesbian bars and parties, a determined Arliss and Flint are hot on their trail, determined to retrieve that mysterious suitcase and bag in the car's trunk, both of which are scandalously linked to conservative Senator Gary Channel (Matt Damon). But the inept, bumbling crooks are in for more than they bargained for as Jamie and Marian remain a few steps ahead. 

Playing more like a parody of a Coen brothers picture than the genuine article, it's best compared to their more satirical efforts like Burn After Reading or Hail Caesar!, even if shades of Fargo unexpectedly sneak in. While a cleverly shot opening sequence featuring Pedro Pascal's character hints at more comic intrigue than we actually get, certain details involving the retrieval of this contraband are funny. Most notably the scenes with these feuding, incompetent criminals and a memorable encounter with a local girls' soccer team. Beanie Feldstein also gives an off-the-wall supporting performance as Jamie's crazed ex that feels like the kind of role her brother would have played in 2007.  

Everything takes a backseat to the relationship between polar opposites Jamie and Marian, who realize through their witty banter and misadventures that they share more in common than originally assumed. That most of those exchanges pay off with some sort of visual sex gag is no fault of the actresses, who do their best with the material. In Viswanathan's case, she rises above this, giving a more sarcastically muted turn that grounds the movie and gives it a moral center. Sporting a Texas drawl, Qualley has fun as Jamie, and while the character is too much, Viswanathan at least ensures Marian's exasperated demeanor reflects that.

In addition to a really bizarre, uncredited big name celebrity cameo, Matt Damon makes the most of his brief screen time as a Senator on the brink of being embarrassingly exposed in more ways than one. But anyone expecting a mystery on the level of Pulp Fiction's briefcase may be disappointed by a reveal that's disgustingly humorous, but par the course for this script. Amusing to a point, you just can't help but roll your eyes, realizing how it sums up the whole effort in a nutshell.

Clocking in at a bearably brisk 84 minutes, Drive-Away Dolls is a minor letdown that ranks on the lower end of either Coen brothers' filmography, managing at least to team up two up and coming actresses who deliver the goods. But fans anticipating another cult classic should probably readjust their expectations to prepare for something closer to a queer American Pie. Everyone else will just be left scratching their heads, wondering why this didn't quite come together like it should.    

Cat Person

Director: Susanna Fogel
Starring: Emilia Jones, Nicholas Braun, Geraldine Viswanathan, Isabella Rossellini, Hope Davis, Fred Melamed, Christopher Shyer, Liza Koshy, Josh Andrés Rivera, Isaac Cole Powell, Michael Gandolfini
Running Time: 120 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

Based on the 2017 New Yorker short story by Kristen Roupenian, Cat Person revolves around a single idea, but it's an undeniably good one. Carried by a pair of gripping performances, it explores how the thinnest of lines can separate seemingly innocuous and dangerous situations. That's the challenge facing a protagonist who may have bigger worries than whether the man she's dating really owns two cats. Though this detail could represent the difference between a decent, eccentric stranger with noble intentions or a serial killer about to send her home in a body bag. 

Director Susanna Fogel begins her film with a great Margaret Atwood quote: "Men are afraid that women will laugh at them. Women are afraid that men will kill them." But don't be fooled into thinking this is a #MeToo lecture. It reaches a bit further, keeping us guessing until the story's backed against a wall, eventually transforming into a compulsively watchable character driven thriller that achieves slightly more. 

20 year-old college sophomore and part-time movie theater employee Margot (Emilia Jones) attracts the attention of frequent theatergoer Robert (Nicholas Braun), whom she describes to her feminist best friend Taylor (Geraldine Viswanathan) as resembling a character in an Apatow comedy. After a couple of awkward encounters, he gets Margot's number and they start texting until she eventually agrees to go out with him, despite Taylor's warnings and her misgivings about his odd behavior.

Following a disastrous first date and lingering feelings Robert could have creepy or even violent tendencies, Margot still can't break it off, constantly trying to convince herself of the positives. But even while fearing the worst case scenario, nothing quite prepares her for the consequences when this fling implodes and Robert proves increasingly difficult to move past. 

This guy may as well be waving a red flag when he walks into that theater and encounters Margot, with the two engaging in a strained banter that only sort of qualifies as conversation. At first glance, he's so obviously suspicious it almost seems like a flaw in Michelle Ashford's script or even the direction, until you realize that's exactly what the film's going for. Margot isn't so much enamored with him, but the idea of it, immediately tossing logic out the window to tempt fate. 

Fogel employs multiple dream sequences where Margot envisions Robert attacking her, only to pull back the curtain to reveal she's imagining it all. The familiar device becomes annoyingly repetitive until we get a hypothetical therapy session that gives us a rare glimpse into his mind and possible motivations. Reality collides with Margot's expectations when tiny details add up to paint a fuller picture. Young and insecure, she barely tolerates Taylor's sound advice and can't stand her smothering mom (Hope Davis) or vain step-dad (Christopher Shyer). Every decision she makes can be viewed through that prism.  

CODA actress Emilia Jones gives a high wire act of a performance that further clarifies why even that Best Picture winner's harshest detractors thought she was the best thing about it. Her upside is further cemented here in a difficult role that requires someone capable of credibly skirting the line between extreme vulnerability and cynicism. With every decision, Margot hides her romantic idealism beneath sarcastic humor, but remains just aware enough to realize she could end up a true crime statistic. 

As Robert, Succession's Nicholas Braun makes us doubt our own suspicions, investing his character with alarming quirks while leaving enough room for plausible deniability. Since this mostly takes Margot's perspective, so do we, but Braun deserves a lot of credit for planting subtle clues that Robert could be getting a raw deal. Or maybe not. The character's problematic worship of Harrison Ford's cinematic persona and the fact he looks a decade older than he claims doesn't qualify him as a killer, but everything is only a matter of degrees. And the increments are smaller than both assume. 

Geraldine Viswanathan impresses as Margot's cynical, sub-reddit dwelling friend, Taylor, highlighting the dissonance and similarities between living online and in the real world. And Isabella Rossellini has a small role too bizarre to describe other than by saying it involves an ant colony. The film also utilizes texting pretty well on screen, especially in a powerful scene where a series of messages intensify in hostility with each incoming ping. 

The turning point comes in a painfully awkward sex scene where Margot disengages and retreats into a conversation with another version of herself. It's kind of brilliant how Fogel makes this so uncomfortable to watch, as the whole sequence seems never ending, forcing us to watch and feel her humiliation. Stuck between lying to get through it and a fear of saying "no," she simply surrenders, chalking it up as the final straw. 

Managing to write itself out of a hole, the film provides a conclusive finish while leaving enough lingering questions to keep us thinking. In retrospect, it ends the only way it can, coming full circle as the "origin story" neither character wanted. Reluctantly entering a relationship based on the illusion of trust and compatibility, our heroine's dilemma escalates when self doubt overrides suspicion, causing viewers to squirm at the treacherous territory these two navigate in their messy, desperate attempt at authentic human connection.

The Beanie Bubble

Directors: Kristin Gore and Damian Kulash Jr.
Starring: Zach Galifianakis, Elizabeth Banks, Sarah Snook, Geraldine Viswanathan, Tracey Bonner, Carl Clemons-Hopkins, Hari Dhillon, Ajay Friese, Sweta Keswani, Kurt Yaeger, Madison Johnson, Delaney Quinn
Running Time: 110 min.
Rating: R

★★½ (out of ★★★★) 

Having already seen 2023 biopics detailing the creations of massively popular sneakers, video games, smart phones and specialty flavored snack chips, it should come as no surprise we're getting more. The Beanie Bubble could be viewed as the toughest sell of the bunch, even for those who fondly remember the brief Beanie Babies phenomenon of the mid 90's. Anyone not around for this consumer fad would probably still recognize these stuffed animals sitting on thrift store shelves today, unmistakably tagged with Ty Inc.'s ubiquitous heart-shaped logo. But as captivated as directors Kristin Gore and Damian Kulash's are by this, it's cruelly ironic how few are aware the "Ty" on that label refers to an actual person, company founder Ty Warner. 

That Warner himself has been largely forgotten by the public might be the most fitting punishment possible for someone who always craved the spotlight, at least according to this account. Heavily emphasizing his shortfalls as a human being and business leader, the script anchors his story around the women he backstabbed on his way to the top. Flamboyant and eccentric, the billionaire clearly had issues sharing or giving credit, fancying himself solely responsible for every facet of his success. With a script full of tropes that cover familiar territory, the film's straddling of two time periods and three intersecting stories does make for an occasionally fun, if flawed ride.

In tracking the rise and fall of toy manufacturer Ty Warner (Zach Galifianakis) and the women essential to his triumphs, the film starts in 1983, where broke Arkansas native Robbie (Elizabeth Banks) struggles to make ends meet as an auto mechanic while caring for disabled husband Billy (Kurt Yaeger). But her friendship with odd neighbor Ty changes all that, as the two bond over his idea of a new "understuffed" line of animal toys. Robbie joins him in launching their own company, providing valuable insight that helps rapidly expand the business over the next decade. 

Flash forward to 1996 and Ty Inc. becomes a juggernaut, thanks in no small part to his loyal, hard working assistant Maya (Geraldine Viswanathan), who introduces Ty to the internet despite his initial resistance. Around the same time, he starts dating single mom Sheila (Sarah Snook), but as she and her young daughters (Madison Johnson and Delaney Quinn) are drawn in by Ty's happy-go-lucky attitude, they'll soon get glimpses of his insecure, uglier side. Seeking to control everything and everyone, he proves to be less than the sum of his parts, ignorantly marching forward, unaware this giant bubble is about to burst.

For a film lacking a particularly distinctive style, it at least opens with an arresting scene, as a Ty delivery truck crashes, spilling boxes of stuffed animals onto the highway that are frantically snatched up by rabid passerbys. An obvious metaphor for the re-selling boom, the movie not only benefits from moments like those, but the beardless, unrecognizable Galifianakis' entertainingly bizarre turn, which grants Ty a complexity the screenplay rarely explores. It's especially true in the latter half when the character makes an abrupt turn that stems from what's implied to be a troubled, loveless childhood.

Since this frequently jumps back and forth between decades, Ty's transformation from fun loving goof into Elon Musk can't help but seem like an overnight occurrence. There's some background about his mentally ill mother, but given the primary plot revolves around him gaslighting the opposite sex, it's still unclear whether he specifically has problems with strong women, women in general, or maybe just people. Mainly, Ty comes off as a weird guy unhappy with himself, so credit should go to Galifianakis for overcoming the creative obstacles to play him exactly as that. 

Using Zac Bissonnette's 2015 book as their blueprint, the writers deliver one of the broader depictions of a greedy CEO, with Ty deteriorating into full blown parody by the time we reach the final act. From enterprising optimist to someone you wouldn't believe can find the bathroom on his own, he gets a lot of help from the women whose ideas and accomplishments he's more than happy to take credit for. Whether it's "lifting" Robbie up as their professional partnership evolves into an extra-marital affair, or unexpectedly sweeping the skeptical Sheila off her feet, Ty's constantly working some kind of angle. 

The most intriguing dynamic exists with whip smart assistant Maya, who forgoes her education and family's wishes she become a doctor to work for this supposed innovator. Watching her gently steer the clueless, egotistical Ty toward the online marketing possibilities of ebay is a real treat, especially knowing it's a concept he'll never grasp. Viswanathan's levelheaded performance as Maya sells this, her wide-eyed idealism quickly turning to exhaustive despair upon realizing she works for the boss from hell. Banks and Snook also impress, with the latter bringing grounded humanity to a fairly predictable arc. Her Sheila emerges as the more sympathetic of the two, if only because the character's connection with Ty is so personal, making his betrayal sting that much more.

Watchable as it is, this does play like a shallower version of everything Air and BlackBerry did better, glazing over beats and events without really digging into the psychology of its characters. For a while it works, but then just keeps going, to the point that you'd think it was originally conceived as an Apple streaming series. At just under two hours, it feels strangely longer, held together by the performances and a hope there's enough nostalgia left to carry its story over the finish line.