Juror #2

Director: Clint Eastwood
Starring: Nicholas Hoult, Toni Collette, J.K. Simmons, Chris Messina, Gabriel Basso, Zoey Deutch, Cedric Yarbrough, Leslie Bibb, Keifer Sutherland, Amy Aquino, Adrienne C. Moore, Francesca Eastwood
Running Time: 114 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

In the tradition of 90's potboilers like A Time to Kill, The Firm or even Clint Eastwood's own Absolute Power, the director's Juror #2 is a gripping legal thriller that foregoes histrionics to instead examine the consciences of its characters. Quieter and more subtle than expected, there's a welcome lack of flash to how Eastwood efficiently makes his point about how the legal system can fail even those with noble intentions. There are grey areas here as everyone involved attempts to do the right thing, no matter how skewed the scales seem.

Jurors with different backgrounds, personalities and biases forced to reach a consensus can often make for compelling human drama, but when one's harboring a major secret, those stakes are raised. It's a relatively simple premise, but the performances and execution go a long way, reminding us how good Eastwood is when interpreting material as solid as what screenwriter Jonathan Abrams provides. Logical and engaging, this reimagines Twelve Angry Men through a different lens, with the clever twist of a lone holdout being directly involved in the case he's selected to serve on.

Savannah based journalist and recovering alcoholic Justin Kemp (Nicholas Hoult) is called for jury duty in a murder trial just as his pregnant wife Ally (Zoey Deutch) is about to give birth after having previously miscarried. When an attempt to be dismissed fails, he joins eleven other jurors in hearing the case of James Sythe (Gabriel Basso), who's accused of murdering his girlfriend Kendall Carter (Francesca Eastwood) last year after the couple's heated argument at a local bar. 

Prosecutor Faith Killebrew (Toni Collette) anticipates an easy conviction, potentially bolstering her popularity as she runs for district attorney. The opposing counsel is overworked public defender Eric Resnik (Chris Messina), who maintains his client's innocence despite struggling to overcome a mountain of circumstantial evidence and key witnesses. But when Justin realizes he was at the scene and possesses crucial information that could clear Sythe's name, he panics. At the advice of his AA sponsor, defense attorney Larry (Keifer Sutherland), Justin keeps his mouth shut, instead attempting to plant reasonable doubt in these jurors' minds without incriminating himself.

The script covers itself well in explaining how Justin not only slipped through the cracks onto this jury, but isn't aware of his possible role in the crime until the trial's underway. In certain respects, he couldn't be safer since the police already have their man, but knowing the truth, he drowns in guilt as opinionated jurors' theories place him in increasing jeopardy during deliberations. And while Justin's an amiable guy who'd rather be by his wife's side, he still has personal demons he's working to put behind him.

Through Eastwood's use of strategically placed flashbacks, more alarming details concerning where Justin went and what he did that night after leaving the bar are revealed. As small bits of visual information unspool pieces at a time, the fuller picture emerges about why he's so torn about coming forward. Weighing the ramifications of convicting of an innocent man or telling a truth that could  destroy his life, Hoult subtly conveys his character's heavy burden as a trembling Justin nervously tries to nudge these stubborn jurors.

Most of the jury deem Sythe guilty before they've entered the room, such as an irritated Marcus (Cedric Yarbrough), who has an ax to grind that has more to do with his own experiences than the defendant's actual guilt or innocence. Making matters worse, he's incredibly suspicious of James, who's fighting an uphill battle in convincing this group to consider alternate possibilities. That is until retired homicide detective Harold Chicowski senses there could be a whole lot more to this case.  

Expertly played by the great J.K. Simmons, Chicowski's been around the block, his investigative skills proving to be both a blessing and curse for James. One of the more compelling ideas he introduces is that of confirmation bias, with police working backwards to finger an obvious suspect before collecting evidence that affirms it. For them, it's all about the optics of getting that conviction, just so long as their suspect fits the profile. It's something prosecutor Killebrew knows all too well, having presumably leveraged it to her benefit many times before.   

Killebrew's rivalry with Resnick is one of the more realistically rewarding details in the script, bucking the usual trend for this genre. Far from being at each others throats, they're friends, colleagues and former classmates who may be on opposite sides, but can still joke and commiserate over drinks. This shared respect becomes increasingly important when Killebrew starts having her own doubts about Sythe's guilt. Unsurprisingly, a superb Toni Collette brings additional layers of complexity to this woman as she grows suspicious of Hoult's tormented protagonist. The result is a tense, intelligently written showdown between two decent people that Eastwood stages with nuance and restraint. 

As a potentially innocent man's freedom hangs in the balance, the title character can't be sure whether he's actually responsible. And neither can we, until the realization hits that Juror #2 isn't about that, even if we're given more than enough information to put those pieces together. In the eyes of the law, all that ever matters is the verdict, which sometimes exists in an entirely separate universe as our preconceived notions of justice.                                 

Saturday Night

Director: Jason Reitman
Starring: Gabriel LaBelle, Rachel Sennott, Cory Michael Smith, Ella Hunt, Dylan O' Brien, Emily Fairn, Matt Wood, Lamore Morris, Kim Matula, Finn Wolfhard, Nicholas Braun, Cooper Hoffman, Andrew Barth Feldman, Taylor Gray, Nicholas Podany, Kaia Gerber, Robert Wuhl, Tommy Dewey, Catherine Curtin, Jon Batiste, Willem Dafoe, Paul Rust, Tracy Letts, Matthew Rhys, J. K. Simmons, Brad Garrett, Josh Brener
Running Time: 109 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

While certain obstacles accompany making a film about the 1975 premiere of Saturday Night Live, few compare to the challenges faced by the original cast and crew who got the show onto NBC, where it's resided for the past 50 years. Saturday Night co-writer/director Jason Reitman had to know this when committing to recreate a special brand of backstage chaos filled with actors chosen to pass as the most respected comedians of all-time. But they didn't start out on top. It was SNL that made them household names.

That's why it's so fitting Reitman stacks his cast full of young unknowns on the cusp of stardom, attempting to replicate the backstory of this bizarre show that didn't quiet resemble anything else on television. The running gag is how its frazzled but determined creator Lorne Michaels can't explain to executives something no one's seen yet. And he's right. But that doesn't mean what eventually airs in the midst of walkouts, firings, fires, threats and other production mishaps will even resemble the vision he has in mind. Flying by the seat of his pants, he'll be lucky if the network even lets him go through with it at all. 

For decades, critics and audiences would label each new SNL season and cast as its worst while overlooking how many huge talents it spawned. And this ensemble has the unenviable job of stepping into their shoes for one ridiculously stressful, debaucherous, profanity filled night that launches all their careers. But despite moving at a breakneck pace, certain faces do stand out long enough to make an impression as Reitman constructs one of his best recent efforts, and maybe the first that seems addictively rewatchable.  

It's October 11, 1975 and producer and creator Lorne Michaels (Gabriel LaBelle) arrives at NBC's New York City studio to prepare for the live airing of his new variety program, Saturday Night, which has the reluctant backing of increasingly nervous network boss Dick Ebersol (Cooper Hoffman). But disingenuous executive David Tebet (Willem Dafoe) is less optimistic, threatening to pull the plug and replace it with a rerun of The Tonight Show With Johnny Carson. 

The dysfunction Tebet witnesses does little to change his mind, as Michaels, comedy writer wife Rosie Shuster (Rachel Sennott) and head writer/actor Michael O' Donoghue (Tommy Dewey) try to wrangle their ambitiously makeshift cast of Chevy Chase (Cory Michael Smith), Gilda Radner (Ella Hunt), Dan Aykroyd (Dylan O' Brien), Laraine Newman (Emily Fairn), John Belushi (Matt Wood), Garrett Morris (Lamorne Morris) and Jane Curtin (Kim Matula). As show time rapidly approaches, everything that can go wrong does, putting the pressure on Michaels to prevent his dream from being shattered before it even airs.

Clocking in a tight 109 minutes, Reitman keeps things moving so fast it feels like twenty, letting viewers experience the crunch of how little time remains before the show goes live. And with relentless editing and rapid Sorkin-style dialogue, we're fully immersed inside this tumultuous backstage atmosphere with hardly a moment to breathe. On top of its impeccable, era specific production design, the whole film almost plays like a single continuous tracking shot, traveling from the street into the studio's halls, through the dressing rooms and onto the sound stage. Around every corner is another problem for Michaels to navigate, whether that's cutting sketches and performers with minutes to go, placating the stringent network censor (Catherine Curtin), or dealing with dissatisfied, coked up host George Carlin (Matthew Rhys). 

Michaels has to massage a lot of egos, and while history counts Chevy Chase as the most contentious cast member, it's actually Matt Wood's catatonic Belushi who proves completely uncontrollable, straddling the line between addict and eccentric genius. Wood, along with Cory Michael Smith's Chase and Dylan O' Brien's mustachioed Dan Akyroyd leave the biggest impressions of the main players, shunning any attempt at imitation to instead capture the freewheeling attitudes of super talented party animals who already consider themselves stars. 

Smith is particularly strong as Chase, establishing himself as the glue that holds this show together, impressing executives even while rubbing certain guests and castmates the wrong way. He'll get his comeuppance in a memorable confrontation with the gruff, ornery Milton Berle (a movie stealing J.K. Simmons) who humiliatingly cuts the cocky Chase down to size in front of girlfriend Jacqueline Carlin (Kaia Gerber). None of this likely happened, but the idea it could have is where the fun's at, as Reitman and co-writer Gil Kenan send up the stars' controversial reputations.

There are also other small moments in the midst of all this pandemonium that really click, like Garrett Morris's insecurity over his big break or actor Nicholas Braun's depiction of an ignored Jim Henson, who's captured with eerie specificity. And in a clever parallel to the spontaneous nature of SNL itself, Braun pulls double duty as Andy Kaufman, whose ubiquitous presence leads to a big payoff that doesn't disappoint. Gilda Radner, Laraine Newman and Jane Curtin aren't given much face time, at least in relation to how their contributions are viewed. But given the sheer amount of ground covered, it's inevitable certain players are shortchanged, which is also an accurate reflection of this show over the years. 

The casting of Dickinson actress Ella Hunt as Radner might be Reitman's only questionable call since those expecting the outsized personality of the comedic legend will be taken for a loop by Hunt's sweeter, more tender take. This isn't to say Radner didn't also possess those qualities, but it's easier  imagining co-star Rachel Sennott knocking that role out of the park. Instead, she proves invaluable as show den mother Rosie, who protects Michaels and the rest of the cast from their own worst instincts. Still, Reitman deserves praise for a a touchingly prophetic scene between Radner and Belushi that resonates in all the right ways as all these characters head into the final stretch.

Having already played a variation on another iconic creator in Steven Spielberg's The Fabelmans, Gabriel Labelle carries this picture on his back, leading the charge as Michaels wards off the constant stream of bad luck and a network itching to see him fail. He's always been described as generally low-key so it's interesting to watch how LaBelle's performance doesn't really contradict those accounts, even under the craziest of circumstances. A human punching bag who absorbs each successive blow, he'll soldier on, determined to see the show judged on its own merits. He knows what he has, even if putting it into words for the suits can get a little tricky. 

That NBC had no interest in ever airing this endeavor makes the film's closing scene hit that much harder, as everyone anxiously waits for a reaction signifying they've somehow pulled it off. Michaels is frequently warned against referring to the show as a "revolution," but after hearing late night's most famous intro for the first time, it's impossible not to understand what he meant. By capturing this in all its chaotic glory, Saturday Night shows how the most effective comedy can't just merely be described. When you see it, you'll know.                                                        

Being the Ricardos

Director: Aaron Sorkin
Starring: Nicole Kidman, Javier Bardem, J.K. Simmons, Nina Arianda, Tony Hale, Alia Shawkat, Jake Lacy, Clark Gregg, Christopher Denham, John Rubinstein, Linda Lavin, Ronny Cox
Running Time: 131 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Writer/director Aaron Sorkin's Being the Ricardos poses the question of how much an actor or actress's physical resemblance to an iconic public figure affects our perception of their performance. Even while conceding there's a lot more to acting than mimicry and imitation, Nicole Kidman's casting as Lucille Ball does push the envelope in terms of how points should be scored for embodying a person the performer looks or acts nothing like. It's been a discussion point since the first trailer, or maybe back further to when Cate Blanchett unexpectedly dropped out of the project. On paper, she was perfect for the role in every way, but things happen, and is often the case, another big name stepped in, causing many to question whether Kidman would be the right fit.

It's a credit to Kidman and Sorkin that the actress somehow makes it work, as well as the rest of the cast who who are frequently given more intriguing material than you'd expect. It's all very inside TV, providing glimpses into the pressures and challenges facing the first juggernaut sitcom of the medium's infancy. When Sorkin's focusing entirely on this, the film's at its best, which isn't to say that Lucy and Desi's tumultuous marriage holds no interest. As both personal and business partners, the two sub-plots are frequently intertwined, with Sorkin taking some creative license in jamming all the troubles facing the show and its star into one fateful week. That Kidman's casting has become such a point of debate is ironic considering she's playing a woman who was constantly told by studio executives she "just wasn't right" for the part, forcing Lucy to take matters into her own hands before experiencing true success. It then became a constant battle to hold on to it, consuming the comedy legend from the inside out as she hid her biggest fears and insecurities from the world.

Mostly taking place within one chaotic week of rehearsals and preparation for a 1953 live filming of I Love Lucy, Lucy (Kidman) must deal with tabloid rumors of Desi's (Javier Bardem) infidelity and a newspaper article declaring her a Communist, despite being cleared of the allegation in a HUAC hearing months earlier. On top of that, the couple are also attempting to convince CBS and sponsor Philip Morris to write Lucy's pregnancy into the show, which isn't just unheard of for television at the time, but downright scandalous considering their married characters aren't allowed to even sleep in the same bed. 

As Lucy's marital and creative frustrations begin boiling over, she clashes with writer/producer and show runner Jess Oppenheimer (Tony Hale) and new director Donald Glass (Christopher Denham) over certain scenes, while also taking the writing team of Bob Carroll (Jake Lacy) and Madelyn Pugh (Alia Shawkat) to task over the dumbing down of her character. Before long, even co-stars William Frawley (J.K. Simmons) and Vivian Vance's (Nina Arianda) patience starts to wear thin when it comes to Lucy's obsessive perfectionism. The root of that is revealed through flashbacks when the young RKO-contracted actress met Cuban band leader and actor Desi Arnaz, while "interviews" with an older Oppenheimer (John Rubenstein), Pugh (Linda Lavin) and Carroll (Ronny Cox) frame the events leading up to that week's memorable live show.

It may seem odd that Lucille Ball's life is upstaged by the more compelling backstage machinations and ego clashes that go into creating a television sitcom, until you remember how big this show was and who's making the film. If the knock against Sorkin has always been that he's a far better writer than director, of the three projects he's helmed, this could be the most practical example yet of the theory. While adequately directed, it's still a writer's movie through and through and there's probably no one better equipped to believably bringing a TV writing room to life than him. Unsurprisingly, these are the scenes that really click, detailing the battles Lucy wages over the show's content, as dictated by the network, but trickling down to producer Oppenheimer and his writers. In a way, they're all casualties of their own enormous success, as a sitcom that brings in a staggering 60 million viewers is a reliable cash cow that won't be given much leeway from the network to experiment, potentially compromising its creative direction.

Sorkin's fly-on-the-wall approach is appreciated, especially in regards to the nuts and bolts of what makes comedy scenes work. Since I Love Lucy is a classic remembered for pioneering an entire genre, there's an existing perception of flawlessness, at least by the time it made air. He demystifies that, recognizing that any show is rife with issues, while giving credit to Lucy for taking the initiative to correct and tweak every one, whether or not the staff agrees. And most of the time she's completely right about everything, even as her aggressive, frequently insensitive approach alienates rather than inspires. It's an uphill battle for Lucy that Desi couldn't possibly understand as a man capable of smooth talking his way out of any predicament, occasionally losing his temper, but ultimately getting everything he wants in the end. That Desi often commands more respect as a producer than Lucy is a cruel turn considering she was the one who strong armed the network into hiring him as her co-star.

Bardem captures all these contradictions so well, dispelling preconceptions that Desi wasn't a talented performer in his own right.  His performance is such that it doesn't come off as if he's outright controlling Lucy, but subtly gaslighting her in way that fills the actress with self-doubt, thinking that nothing's ever good enough in this continuous quest to "keep" him. The smoothest of players, he even offsets his infidelity with what seems like a tireless professional loyalty to Lucy that rarely extends to their actual marriage. Bardem deserves a lot of credit for bringing all these dimensions to someone most associate as just being along for the ride. Whether it's true they'd be no Desi without her, Bardem situates him in the driver's seat more often than not, even making him remarkably likable while doing it. He also really impresses in the sitcom reenactment scenes, which all play better than expected due to the comedic chops of those involved.

The flashbacks and staged interviews are somewhat redundant, underlining what's already evident in the '53 segments that detail Lucy's week from hell. If you can get past the fact Kidman looks nothing like Ball and rarely attempts to vocally inflect her, there's a lot to appreciate in what she does with the material, which treats her as a real person who should be played as such. The actress excels in conveying the deep seeded feelings of inadequacy that cause Lucy to micromanage the creative process, while Sorkin shows us with read throughs, run throughs and rehearsals that she's not wrong. Tony Hale hits it out of the park with what's probably his most memorable big screen supporting role thus far far as the frazzled show runner attempting to keep it all together, given the unenviable task of pleasing both Desi and Lucy while still keeping them in line. 

Hale's former Arrested Development co-star Alia Shawkat also makes a huge impression as Madelyn Pugh, the lone female writer and sounding board for Lucy as she tries to push her more progressive ideas through, while Nina Arianda's take on Vivian Vance successfully navigates the strain of being Ethel to Lucille's Lucy and screen wife to William Frawley's much older Fred. Arianda doesn't get a ton of screen time, but she makes the most of it, especially in one dynamic scene opposite Kidman, who shows us there were few limits to whom and what Lucy perceived as threats to her career. And the great J.K. Simmons breathes more complexity into the hard drinking, wisecracking Frawley than one would guess from his character's hysterically dry and cranky demeanor, proving to be Lucy's most unlikely friend and supporter during a tough stretch.

Given all the justifiable reservations concerning whether Kidman fits this role, she's the common denominator in all of this, often anchoring the film's best scenes, be it comedic or otherwise. If the ending's very literally a real crowd pleaser, it's simultaneously a downer as well, forcing audiences to reconcile two Lucys. One was a trailblazing talent that delighted generations with her talent while the other felt constantly insecure and diminished, as if nothing was ever good enough, especially when it came to Desi. Through that lens, the end of her show and marriage could have been an unexpected triumph, enabling Lucy to start a new chapter where she could spread her creative wings without limitations. But even while remaining a force in front of and behind the camera for years to come, it would be impossible to reach these heights again, with Sorkin doing a thorough job exploring exactly why.

Palm Springs

Director Max Barbakow 
Starring: Andy Samberg, Cristin Milioti, J.K. Simmons, Peter Gallagher, Meredith Hagner, Camila Mendes, Tyler Hoechlin, Chris Pang, June Squibb, Jena Friedman, Dale Dickey
Running Time: 90 min.
Rating: R 

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

To its credit, Hulu original Palm Springs takes what's been becoming a fairly familiar premise and does a lot of things differently with it, directly addressing some little nagging problems that have always held the idea back. A character re-living the same day in a continuous time loop has, ironically enough, been repeated many times since its most famously successful iteration, 1993's Groundhog Day, to decidedly mixed results. That no film has come close to equaling it since does have a lot to do with the fact there's only one Bill Murray, but also the many self-imposed limitations filmmakers have put on the concept. 

Director Max Barbakow (working from a script by Andy Siara) doesn't box himself in like that, allowing this take to reach for heights those many imitators wouldn't. So even while Groundhog Day remains the benchmark in having most everything else beat in the romantic comedy department, this adds more than a few wrinkles to a certain type of movie we thought we had all figured out already. Its willingness to break rules we weren't conciously aware existed and its excellent use of two leads who have rarely been better, leads to a somewhat unique experience that taps into current events and feelings in ways that would barely register a few years ago. While they may not have known it before the cameras started rolling, if ever there was a more relevant time to release a film about two characters stuck repeating the same day, it's 2020. 

Nyles (Andy Samberg) has a problem that no one else seems aware of.  He's reliving the day of November 9th over and over again, waking up next to his girlfriend Misty (Meredith Hagner) in Palm Springs on the day she's serving as bridesmaid in her friend Tala's (Camila Mendes) wedding to Abe (Tyler Hoechlin). Drunk at the reception, Tala's sister Sarah (Cristin Milioti) watches as Nyles delivers the speech she's supposed to give and the two form a bond, going out to the desert together before he's unexpectedly attacked. Crawling injured into a nearby cave, he's sucked into some kind of a vortex, which she follows him into despite his warnings. 

The next day Sarah discovers the truth that it's actually the same day, and she's now stuck in this time loop he's been in. Failing to find a way out and having repeatedly committed suicide only to awaken in the same bed, Nyles now has a partner in crime, as the two wreck havoc and live for the moment knowing there won't be consequences to face. But that only lasts so long, as Sarah realizes she has as much reason to get out of this as he does for resigning to stay. Having finally found someone he wants to spend the rest of his days with, Nyles will have to decide if he wants to continue living in this seemingly neverending loop.  

Cleverly, the script makes sure Nyles' journey is already well underway by the time we meet him, even if we're not completely sure what that is yet. By sparing the viewer that overly familar set-up of discovering the protagonist's situation as he does, we get to see how this guy already has everything down to a science, having done this hundreds of times already. This leads to a great early gag with him on the dance floor at the wedding reception, anticipating the moves of every guest. 

The story doesn't get bogged down in needless expository descriptions of how or why this is happening, opting to show instead of tell, trusting we'll be onboard because Nyles is just too wacky and entertaining for us not to be. Basically, there's a cave with a time loop and that's it. Bucking the trend of this sub-genre, he's not the only one going through this, as Sarah's unwittingly dragged along for the ride, becoming for her and him to be a lot more fun than expected, at least until it isn't. 

The picture's peak comes when Nyles and Sarah fully exploit this new world devoid of consequences in a montage highlighting their debaucherous behavior, which take wildly different turns in completely different locations with a wide variety of hapless victims. Of course, all of this helps correct the problem this premise has always faced in having one person going at it alone and trying to convince everyone else in their vicinity of their plight, over and over again. Having two people in this situation really opens up creative possibilities that weren't there before, many of which Siara's script fully explores, allowing the characters to bounce off each other and mock everything and everyone around them, upping the hilarity level. 

Samberg and Milioti have great chemistry, with the former again proving his chops as a funnyman in no way distracts from his believability as a lead, albeit one more in the vein of fellow SNL alum Adam Sandler, when he's on his game. This is probably the most high profile feature role Milioti's had and she displays some quick timing and brings genuine likability to a character who isn't easy to embrace considering she's kind of a selfish trainwreck. If anything, this should hopefully further erase painful memories of her brief, creatively botched run as the title character in How I Met Your Mother, which did little to properly showcase her true comedic talents. 

The plot wouldn't be complete without a villain, wedding guest Roy, who's played by the great J.K. Simmons, even if that one-word description unfairly oversimplifies a role that's actually a lot more clever than it appears on the surface. He's one of the many ways the screenplay upends expectations, with the actor bringing a welcome crankiness and sarcasm to the proceedings. While he's one of the many complication arising in a Nyles and Sarah's relationship that wouldn't seem out of place in a more generic rom-com, the time loop plot at least makes it seem like anything but, continually raising the stakes.

That this manages to do something fresh here would be a victory in itself without the added resonance, even if I'm still not sure the resolution is completely what it could have been. It settles into a more traditional rom-com groove in its last act, making the movie seem slighter than it was midway, where it seemed destined, if not for greatness, at least cult status. But it's still a surprisingly original time loop movie from the moment it starts, as even our introduction to the idea feels novel, appreciating the audience's intelligence and never taking itself too seriously. It also doesn't fall back on the old trope that moral lessons must be learned for the characters to physically escape this. Of course, they both learn something anyway, but a more practical solution is presented that firmly puts the characters in charge of their own decisions and fates rather than being jerked around by the concept.

Palm Springs' top priority is to get laughs, and that it does, before unspooling a high concept story that makes those jokes and gags even funnier. It should seem obvious that the one thing you don't want to do with a movie that's plot revolves around repetition is make it "feel" repetitive with the same locations serving similar functions and the same people doing identical things,  But that's hard. This might be the only recent one of these to avoid that extremely common pitfall, more interested in the characters than the machinations of its own script.

Veronica Mars (Season 4)

Creator: Rob Thomas
Starring: Kristen Bell, Enrico Colantoni, Jason Dohring, Percy Daggs III, Francis Capra, Ryan Hansen, Max Greenfield, Patton Oswalt, J.K. Simmons, Izabela Vidovic, Clifton Collins Jr., David Starzyk, Kirby Howell-Baptiste, Dawnn Lewis, Ken Marino
Release Date: 2019

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Veronica Mars is dead. No, that's not a spoiler for Hulu's newly resurrected fourth season of the series, coming five years after the Kickstarter-funded film and a full fifteen after its first episode aired on UPN. But as a viable franchise, it's felt deceased for a while now. Most of creator Rob Thomas' attempts at following up his groundbreaking first season about a teen detective investigating her best friend's murder has seen him trying to recapture a magic and creative spark that's long gone.

High school provided the perfect setting and backdrop for the outsider story Thomas was trying to tell, its moral and social complications playing directly to the strengths of one of the medium's greatest protagonists. Despite far lower viewership than deserved, critics and audiences expecting another teen drama discovered something far deeper, and were rewarded with a single season of "Peak TV" that could compete with the Breaking Bads and Mad Mens any day of the week.

Veronica Mars Title Card

Since then, Thomas has seemingly done everything possible to undo that achievement while simultaneously (and painfully) reminding us what once. And therein lies the problem. In trying to replicate that magic, he stalled, delivering "fan service" before the term, or even Twitter itself, existed. The fans can share in this blame by eating it all up, merely satisfied by having their favorite characters come back for a reunion or victory lap, as the focus irrelevantly remained on whether Veronica and Logan will stay together. That helped destroy the show, which isn't to say the 2014 movie wasn't fine for what it was. But it didn't move anything forward and it was suddenly becoming harder to envision a future for the character or series. To survive in any incarnation, it was clear a complete overhaul was needed. And if seasons two, three and the feature film were any indication, there was real concern Thomas wouldn't be interested in rocking the boat.

Well, he's done it. In bringing the show into current times, Hulu's 2019 Veronica Mars lets go of its complicated past, adjusting its style and format to the extent that it really is a full-fledged reboot. And aside from the timeliness of its central storyline, it's also a reflection of where the main characters would be now, notwithstanding all those unnecessary detours over the years. In adapting wonderfully to the streaming model his storytelling helped initiate over a decade ago, it's far and away Thomas' best effort since the first season. Crafting a tight, sophisticated mystery that maximizes its setting, we're also treated to its two most indelible characters front and center, working together again as they should. In a way, it addresses all the issues plaguing its start-stop comebacks, all while providing an entryway for new viewers who won't feel left out of the loop.

Kristen Bell has stated in numerous interviews that if she could play Veronica for the rest of her career, she would. For the first time, we can now actually envision a scenario where that's possible, as the series moves forward rather than relying on its past. While these 8 darker-leaning episodes are likely to infuriate some of those aforementioned fans who helped put the series in this predicament, it's exactly the eleventh hour save this franchise needed. With enough time having passed, new characters, better writing and a new platform to play on, the worthy follow-up we've been waiting fifteen years for has finally arrived.

Kristen Bell returns as private investigator, Veronica Mars

Taking place five years after the events of the film, Veronica (Bell) is still residing in the seaside town of Neptune, California, running Mars Investigations with her father, Keith (Enrico Colantoni), who's struggling with memory issues and walking with a cane due to injuries suffered from his accident. With business down, they're struggling to stay afloat as spring breakers descend upon Neptune with their wild beach parties. And many of them take place right outside the cramped one-bedroom boardwalk apartment Veronica shares with longtime boyfriend and Navy Inteligence officer, Logan Echolls (Jason Dohring), who's temporarily back from active military duty.

With turmoil brewing between Neptune's elite and small-business owners reaping the financial benefits of spring break, the shocking Sea Sprite Motel bombing sends the town into a tailspin, and involves a number of key suspects and witnesses. They include hapless, murder and publicity obsessed pizza delivery guy Penn Epner (Patton Oswalt), the motel owner's teen daughter Matty Ross (Izabela Vidovic) and Alex Maloof (Paul Karmiryan), the wealthy nephew of up-and-coming Congressman Daniel Maloof (Mido Hamada).

When the congressman hires Veronica and Keith to investigate the case under Police Chief Langdon's (Dawnn Lewis) nose, the bombings continue, with all clues seeming to lead back to real estate magnate Richard "Big Dick" Casablancas (David Starzyk) and his old prison buddy and fixer, Clyde Pickett (J.K. Simmons). But the arrival of two mysterious Mexican Cartel hitmen (played by Clifton Collins Jr. and Frank Gallegos) looking to take out the bomber could mean even bigger problems for Veronica.

Veronica and Logan

The most notable difference in this incarnation is how much grittier it feels and its higher production values, recalling the strongest aspects of its inaugural season on UPN. But that's where the comparisons end since the Neptune here not only looks and feels slightly different, but seems far seedier it has in the past. And the idea of Veronica, having never fulfilled what many (including her father and Logan) believed was her true potential, very much plays into the position she now finds herself. Living in a cramped boardwalk apartment, she's literally trapped in this town by her own choice, as closed in and cut off as ever, despite not losing any of her wickedly sarcastic sense of humor about it.

The show's content, no longer restricted by the confines of broadcast TV standards, has officially caught up to Veronica's more adult sensibilities, allowing the writers some slack to have characters actually swear and include more graphic depictions of violence and sex when necessary. And none of it seems gratuitous, mostly due to the fact that it's expertly incorporated to fit the demands and tone of the plot rather than as a transparent attempt to seem "grown up" or be taken more seriously. Try as they did to market it as such, VM was never a teen show, or at least its first season wasn't. It was a great drama that happened to revolve around them. Now with the shackles off, it can finally be marketed and shown for the gripping character-driven mystery it always was, minus that stigma. It's only fitting that what's on screen reflects that evolution, as we now get to see Veronica and Keith in an actual shootout. With guns. There are decapitations, drug use, and a bunch of other nefarious goings on you woudn't expect on Veronica Mars. And none of it's for shock value, but rather the needs of the central mystery.

What might be most impressive is how well this revival performs and adapts to its new limited episode format, as if cashing in on expectations of what could have always been. Even a Breaking Bad-like subplot involving two Mexican cartel hitmen works better than anyone could predict, mostly because those involved are committed enough to the show's dark, noir-ish tone this time around that it doesn't feel like a tease. That's evident in the spectacular opening title sequence that feels like a trippy, hallucinatory mash of Neon Demon and True Detective, backed by Chrissie Hynde's slowed-down, synth cover of the show's theme, The Dandy Warhols' "We Used To Be Friends." I'd even go as far as to say the opening titles surpass the first season's, which energetically undersold the show as something lighter and less substantial than it actually was.

The Sea Sprite Motel bombing

That the titles only features Bell, Colantoni and Dohring is revealing in how it conveys just how tightly focused the season is. It's all about answering a single question: Who's the bomber? There's so much going on during the actual Sea Sprite bombing scene in the premiere, "Spring Breakers," you'd be forgiven for not being able to track it. We're introduced to a lot of characters all at once, but almost immediately, the writers expertly deconstruct that information, leaving us with who and what's important as the investigation forges forward with its many twists and turns.

When old favorite characters do show up, their presence is entirely contingent on whether it makes sense. This isn't a reunion. Veronica pal Wallace Fennel (Percy Daggs III), PCH gang leader Eli "Weevil" Navarro (Francis Capra), Veronica ex and current FBI agent Leo D'Amato (Max Greenfield), obnoxious B-movie actor Dick Casablancas (Ryan Hansen), sleazy P.I.Vinnie Van Lowe (Ken Marino) and even ambulance-chasing lawyer Cliff McCormack (Daran Norris) all appear, but in different, if not entirely unfamiliar capacities from when we last saw them. Most of the focus is on the newer characters, as it should be.

While it's a genuine thrill to see each of those returnees used really well, Weevil and Leo are  the two biggest beneficiaries. Both their relationships with Veronica are more complicated than before, as Thomas follows through with the film's promise of having Weevil return to the wrong side of the tracks, testing whatever loyalty they have left to each other. Leo, however, picks up almost exactly where he left off with Veronica, this time as a visiting FBI agent assisting with the case, and perhaps a pointed reminder of the career path she could have continued to follow. He's also presented as a potential thorn for a jealous Logan who's not entirely privy to their history. Bell and Greenfield don't miss a beat, employing the same easygoing chemistry and back-and-forth banter as in season's past, only now with a more serious backdrop.

Patton Oswalt as pizza delivery guy, Penn Epner

Most of the season's action is driven by the Emmy-worthy performances of Patton Oswalt and J.K. Simmons, both of whom deliver big in very different, but equally complex parts. The best thing Thomas did was get the two of them onboard, as it's almost surreal seeing already established actors of their caliber dropped into this universe he's created to shake things up. And do they ever.

As pizza delivery guy and true crime superfan Penn, Oswalt paints a portrait of this pitiable man seemingly thrust into the middle of a media whirlwind he willingly encourages. As the founder of a "Murder Head" web group, his behavior wildly fluctuates between hilarious, endearing, tasteless and even flat-out offensive depending upon the situation. Victim, liar or hero? We're never quite sure, but Oswalt (paying tribute to his late wife's true crime investigating with this character) makes it impossible not to care.

Simmons' ex-con, Clyde, is a little smoother with his manipulation, but no less confounding, as we spend most of the eight episodes wondering what angle he's working. We know he can't stay in the background for long as Big Dick's cleaner but there's also considerable intrigue in the bromance he strikes up with a now physically ailing Keith. Yes, they're working each other the whole time since he and his boss are key suspects, but there's also a real bond there between two tired older guys looking for someone to shoot the breeze with. He may be a criminal, but he's an honest one operating within his own code of ethics, and Simmons, legendarily capable of flipping between cold-blooded and kind-hearted in an instant, has us nervously stirring over which side Clyde will eventually end up on.

Oscar-winner J.K. Simmons as ex-con Clyde Pickett

With Veronica's long-standing abandonment and trust issues now carrying into her mid-thirties, friends aren't easy to come by or keep, especially in a line of work where mistrust is a prerequisite. Her relationships with Wallace and Weevil are strained and she even starts things off on the wrong foot with a returning Logan. While our beloved Veronica sure ain't easy to deal with, some relief comes in the genuine friendship she strikes up with local bar owner, Nicole Malloy (The Good Place's Kirby Howell-Baptiste). But when her cynicism and guilty conscience takes over, it isn't long before she manages to potentially sabatage that as well.

The idea of giving Veronica a sidekick of sorts in the form of 16-year-old Matty is a great one, and probably could have been executed in any of the show's seasons if the situation warranted it. But it makes the most sense now, as she'd want to latch onto someone she sees as a reflection of herself at that age, and has just suffered a similarly immeasurable loss where she needs to get at the truth. Like Penn, Matty also works as a conduit to show how Veronica's history with the Lilly Kane case continues to informs her every decision as an investigator and person.

While Izabela Vidovic more than holds her own as the rebellious teen absorbing Veronica's knowledge and making scary missteps along the way, her presence never comes off as the transparent spin-off audition it easily could have. Dawnn Lewis also makes a strong supporting contribution as Neptune's newest no-nonsense police chief Marcia Langdon, who proves to be the latest bureaucratic roadblock for the Mars' to overcome, albeit a fairly likable one.

Keith and Veronica on the job

A creative zenith is reached in the depiction of Veronica and Keith's relationship, a bond that was always at the heart of the show, but fell by the wayside in the two subsequent seasons and film, the latter of which hardly saw them working together at all. This is a welcome return to top first season form, with the two joking, bickering and watching each others backs like no time has passed at all. The Mars Investigations office also looks exactly as it should after being given a somewhat shoddy treatment production-wise in the movie. But the kicker is that the dynamic between these two has evolved considerably, with Keith struggling with physical limitations and memory loss, giving Colantoni a chance to bring a vulnerability to the character he hasn't been afforded since the show's peak.

Roles are now reversed, with Veronica having to protect her own father just as he protected her as a teen. Both from himself and others. There's a memorable moment that comes about three quarters through the season that signifies that massive shift while confirming the series is back firing on all cylinders. It's when Veronica has to pause midway through one of their elaborate ruses to check on her dad. He's supposed to be faking a heart attack, but she stops, and the look on her face speaks volumes. Given his current condition, she can't be sure it's not real and abandons her cover to check on him. Juxtapose that with the show's first season finale, where super sleuth Veronica, unharmed through twenty-plus episodes investigating a murder, finds herself in actual physical danger. A suddenly helpless teen in need of dad's help. The same terrified feeling we all had watching that returns, only this time our fears are for Keith.

Kristen Bell slides back into this like it's nothing, and with even more experience as an actress under her belt and better, more engaging material to work with, the results far exceed anything she's been handed after the first season. While we always knew she'd be a successful enough actress to never need the show again, she's still taken for granted in how she carried it, especially during its rougher creative patches. Here, she gets more help from the writers and supporting cast in her entirely believable portrayal of an older, more jaded and bitter Veronica who's over a decade removed from Lilly Kane's murder, and with some life already behind her. And we the impression much of it wasn't what she wanted. At no point during the series' run did Bell ever seem to be going through the motions but the show sure did, so it's nice having the content catch up to her talent again

Jason Dohring returns as Logan Echolls

Veronica's carrying a lot of baggage, most of it in the form of her relationship with Logan, which always felt like it was holding the series back, before eventually becoming the very reason it flew off the rails. This time, it rarely takes center stage and supplements rather than overwhelms the crime proceedings. The problems they deal with feel like real adult issues stemming from Veronica's past trauma and Logan's anger issues. To Jason Dohring's credit, this is probably his best work to date, as he internally struggles to decipher his current role in Veronica's life. And because he also now more closely resembles an Jack Ryan-like action hero than the Logan we remember, the show's able to exploit that by cleverly making him one.

The controversial season finale,"Years, Continents, Bloodshed," feels like the point where everything we always thought the show was, and what it should be now, converge. While it's not news that creators and showrunners often have to make incredibly difficult decisions, what's talked about less is how frequently they opt out of making them. Whether it's to please the fans or network, they take the easy way out, often to the show's creative detriment.

With a final, brutal twist, Rob Thomas tuned all of that noise out and made the decision that was right for the story and its characters. The one that would most insure the series' future viability, while putting an exclamation point on the darker ride these 8 episodes have taken us on.  Having previously written for the fans and and seeing it get the the series nowhere, he's now given the characters and audience what they NEED instead of want, recreating that same mixture of tragedy, triumph and uncertainty that defined show's initial run.

Season 4's shocking finale, "Years, Continents, Bloodshed"

It's entirely possible this was too big a risk and Veronica Mars ends up losing the decade-plus loyal following it has. If that does happen, which it won't, this was still entirely worth it, if only to experience the series performing at its peak for the first time since 2004. But if early indicators can be trusted, it's likely viewers who appreciate great TV have noticed these strides and we'll get more where this came from.

Not only does is it complete vindication for seasons two and three, but an invitation for anyone who hasn't seen them to just skip straight to this, which feels like the first season's true successor. With a tight, self-contained thrill-ride on a new platform, and unencumbered by the pressure to fill over twenty hours of story, the series feels creatively reborn, giving us something more to contemplate afterwards. It's the darkest hole yet for the resilient Veronica to claw out of, with the possibility of even bigger obstacles ahead. But it's great having her back.   

The Front Runner

Director: Jason Reitman
Starring: Hugh Jackman, Vera Farmiga, J.K. Simmons, Alfred Molina, Sara Paxton, Mamoudou Athie, Kaitlyn Dever, Toby Huss, Molly Ephraim, Steve Zissis, Spencer Garrett, Ari Graynor, Bill Burr, Mike Judge, Kevin Pollack, Mark O' Brien
Running Time: 113 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Does it matter? That's the question at the center of Jason Reitman's The Front Runner, which details Senator Gary Hart's unsuccessful 1988 Presidential bid. At one point not only a lock for the nod, but seemingly the White House, all of Hart's political ambitions came crashing down in the span of merely three weeks. Young, good-looking, charismatic and full of fresh ideas, his campaign was derailed because he had an ex-marital affair. But that wasn't the story. The real story was that it was the first time anyone bothered to care. The media. The public. His colleagues. For the previous 200 years, politicians got free passes in their private lives, which remained just that: private. Hart's timing was terrible, his ascent having arrived on the precipice of a major sea change in our culture that's carried over into today: when news became entertainment.

Hart felt the wrath when character and trustworthiness in our public figures suddenly became an issue and the press realized they could make bank exposing it. In other words, he really stepped in it and the way he reacted, or rather didn't, circles back to that question of whether a public figure's private business should really matter, and whether that matters when he's a politician seeking the highest office in the land. It's a question we're still wrestling with and one Reitman thoroughly examines here with surprising insight and objectivity.

After losing the 1984 Democratic Presidential nomination to Walter Mondale, idealistic, rejuvenated Colorado Senator Gary Hart (Hugh Jackman) returns four years later, entering the 1988 race, quickly becoming the front runner to earn the nomination that earlier alluded him. With wife Lee (Vera Farmiga) and daughter Andrea (Kaitlyn Dever) in his corner, Hart seems to be the ideal family values candidate, telling it like it is and promising to put the people and country first. There's only one problem: his marriage. Or more specifically, an affair he's having with a Florida-based model named Donna Shaw (Sara Paxton), whose best friend tips off Miami Herald reporter Tom Fiedler (Steve Zissis) about their secret excursions.

With Washington Post's A.J. Parker (Mamoudou Athie) also cornering Hart about his extracurricular activities in an interview, the senator becomes defensive as ever, lashing out at anyone daring to bring up his personal life. But he's in trouble, and despite loyal supporters like hard-nosed campaign manager (Bill Dixon) and scheduler Irene Kelly (Molly Ephraim) telling him otherwise, Hart stubbornly stays the course, even as the media has a field day exposing his transgressions. Unfortunately, the only course he's now headed on would seem to lead toward political infamy and embarassment rather than the White House.

Reitman's casting of Hugh Jackman as the embattled senator is meant to convey something that perhaps another actor in the role wouldn't. Despite what you may have seen or read about Hart or any of the paralells between him and Jackman as far as their likability, charisma, or ability to hold an audience, they're worlds apart. And if we're going strictly on appearance, they actually look nothing alike. The choice is clearly meant to idealize both Hart himself and his campaign, but it works. It's as if the producers asked themselves which actor would make the senator look ten times better than he actually was, which isn't to say he wasn't a strong candidate in reality. But in Jackman's shoes, he manages to seem even better and more trustworthy. How could you not vote for this guy? And that makes his eventual collapse all the more disappointing and symbolic.

While we expect Jackman would excel at playing a baby-kissing, family-oriented man of the people, what he best captures is Hart's hubris. His complete disbelief that anyone would want to talk about  his personal life instead of the issues or the country. He's also personally offended, demanding that what he does on his own time is off limits without exception. In one sense, his idealism is commendable, but it's also becoming increasingly unrealistic, shading him as an entitled egomaniac. It's the push and pull between the two sides of this man's character, or sometimes lack thereof, that make for such a compelling implosion.  His failure to grasp that nothing is off limits anymore and how that leads to his undoing is what makes the picture engaging, despite an opening half hour that lures us into thinking we're watching a dry political docudrama.

One of the best scenes occur between Jackman and J.K. Simmons' as Hart's campaign manager, who attempts to convince him that, morals and fairness aside, the coverage of the scandal is quickly eating away at everything he and his staffers have been working for. Of course, it falls on deaf ears as Hart continually refuses to acknowledge its existence and plows forward, rewriting his speeches while dismissing the allegations so flippantly that it gives a whole new inflexible meaning to the phrase "staying on topic."

There's never a moment of self-reflection, even when being followed and ambushed outside his D.C. residence, camera in his face while questions are being fired. Yet as unlikable as he is and how little remorse he seems to show, Hart still makes a valid point that if we used this criteria to judge our leaders we wouldn't have had a Martin Luther King or John F. Kennedy, both of whom were serial womanizers in an era where their indiscretions were protected. Why should he be treated any differently? The answer's simple: he's entered a different era.

If Hart has a rough time adjusting to this paradigm shift, the media has just as difficult a time figuring out how to handle it. And it's here where some of the accusations that Reitman didn't dig deep enough or just grazed the surface of the story's implications don't hold water. He takes us inside these newsrooms showing how they struggle and debate the merits of covering this, and how. Some, like Washington Post editor Ben Bradlee (Alfred Molina), are all in, while trepidatious Post reporter A.J. Parker's guilt at exposing Hart is pitted against his equally strong moral sense of responsibility as a journalist.

In a cast loaded with valuable utility players, few make as strong an impression as Molly Ephraim as the fictional Irene Kelly, a political handler who now must handle the "other woman" in the scandal, Donna Shaw. In doing this, she realizes that aside from the young woman's naivete and poor judgment, she'll be a casualty. The senator will suffer the political fallout but the scandal will follow her wherever she goes after she's dragged through the mud by the media and Hart's team. She's not as strong as Vera Farmiga's more hardened Lee Hart,  putting on a tough public face to shield herself and daughter Andrea from the humiliation her husband's actions caused, only confirming what she suspected of him all along.

At its core, The Front Runner is a process picture, and while it won't anytime soon be confused with the likes of All The President's Men or Zodiac as far as how deep or skillfully it takes us into the newsroom, it makes for an effective snapshot of a little discussed turning point for American politics and in our culture. The true events dramatized in the former film heavily played into what would eventually take down Gary Hart. Post-Watergate, everyone in the press wanted to be crusaders, and found their perfect vehicle with this candidate, who didn't exactly do himself any favors with his actions, regardless of how much luckier his predecessors may have been. It's one thing to apologize, but it's another entirely to apologize for getting caught.

Patriots Day

Director: Peter Berg
Starring: Mark Wahlberg, Kevin Bacon, John Goodman, J.K. Simmons, Michelle Monaghan, Alex Wolff, Themo Melikidze, Michael Beach, James Colby, Jimmy O. Yang, Rachel Brosnahan, Christopher O' Shea, Melissa Benoist, Khandi Alexander
Running Time: 133 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Depending on your opinion of very recent real life tragedies being brought to the big screen, Peter Berg's Patriots Day will either be a heavily anticipated or nervously dreaded experience. That the end result is positive can mainly be attributed to the realism and tension he brings to the sensitive material, which recreates an attack and subsequent manhunt sure to have many on pins and needles despite everyone's full knowledge of the outcome.  There are about two or three sequences in the film that are not only eye-opening in terms of the little nuggets of information provided, but in their depiction of both the disappointment and eventual triumph of the human spirit all within the span of a couple of days.

The usually inconsistent, over-the-top Berg shows surprising restraint, with star Mark Wahlberg taking on a semi-fictional role that's not only right in his wheelhouse, but firmly rooted in his own hometown, reminding us the gravitas he brings when properly cast in a part to suit his strengths. The entire picture is essentially broken down into sections, with character sketches sprinkled throughout. The attack, the shootout, the hostage situation, the manhunt, and most controversially, the interrogation.

While the tragedy occurred only four years ago, it's startling to consider just how much has already been forgotten about that day and in the hours leading up to 2013's doomed Boston Marathon. It's an excellently made, respectful encapsulation destined to be unfairly picked apart and unpacked due to the director's politics. But in this case, skeptics are reading into something that just isn't there. As the unnecessary mini-documentary that closes the film shows, Berg's film definitely conveys a point of view, but it's far from political and one you'd hope everyone shares.

When something like this happens, the immediate reaction should be anger and outrage, with any compassion reserved for the victims and their families. In fact, it's so obvious that you'd have to heavily question the need for the non-fictional epilogue closing the film, restating with real life accounts what was already conveyed in the preceding two hours. Whether it was a preemptive defense against unfair critics ready to slam the right-skewing filmmaker for even taking the project, there's no need for anyone to feel guilty for making or watching this. It's worthwhile, both for history and opinion, thankfully done well enough to leave little room for heated debate over its merits.

It's April 15, 2013 and injured Police Sergeant Tommy Saunders (Wahlberg) is returning to work the Boston Marathon after a recent suspension, looking to prove he's put his issues behind him, taking marching orders from Commissioner Ed Davis (John Goodman). But when two bombs are detonated near the finish line of the race by Tamerlan Tsarnaev (Themo Melikidze) and his younger brother Dzhokhar (Alex Wolff), chaos and bloodshed erupt with the surviving victims being taken to local hospitals. Couples such as spectators Jessica Kensky (Rachel Brosnahan) and husband Patrick Downes (Chistopher O'Shea) are separated and unaware for hours whether their spouse is even still alive. With FBI Special Agent Richard DesLauriers (Kevin Bacon) taking over the investigation and working in conjunction with Boston Police, they begin to close in on their suspects. But the brothers won't go quietly, inflicting more damage until eventually being brought down by the law enforcement and citizens of a tough city who band together under the worst circumstances imaginable.

Berg does an admirable job setting the table for what's to come, introducing characters who we know, or maybe even specifically remember, play roles in the tragedy. Some are given more screen time than others, but a clear emphasis is put on law enforcement and Wahlberg's Sgt. Saunders, a composite of various real-life officers on duty that day. Told directly in a chronologically coherent way, title cards count down to the start of the race and the direct aftermath in the following hours are laid out as a compelling police procedural. It's hard to think of a box that goes unchecked, or a moment where are memory isn't jogged as to certain details that made the headlines, but without the specificity we get here.

The information we're privy to is especially insightful when concerning the actions of the bombers both leading up to and directly following the attack. It's also kind of frightening, as the perpetrators take center stage in a manner that could easily turn off those already made uncomfortable by the very idea of this film existing. We see their preparations, sloppy game plan for escape and the surprisingly tough fight they put up against Boston's finest. And of this is viewed through a likely accurate prism that shows them hanging out and arguing like brothers separated in age usually would. Tamerlan's clearly the mastermind and aggressor, taking his younger brother along for the ride, poisoning his mind a little more, a detail supporting the narrative running through the news at the the time.

From the recreation of the crime scene to painstaking video recognition techniques, a step-by-step process is shown to explain how the authorities went from literally no information to putting an entire city on lockdown until eventually descending upon the single surviving terrorist hiding in a neighbor's yard. If there's any issues with the film, they'd stem from it being so caught up in in the intriguing nuts and bolts of the event and its aftermath that it can sometimes come across as too rote or mechanical. It's a strange complaint considering Berg's the director, but this still works better as an action thriller than a historical drama. While the revolving door of major and minor characters makes it harder to be invested in any of them for lengthy periods, Wahlberg, Bacon and a couple of others get to shine through in their roles, with the likes of Goodman, Michelle Monaghan and an effective J.K. Simmons (as nearby Watertown Police Sergeant Jeffrey Pugliese) trying to leave an imprint in lesser ones, the former unfortunately saddled as a stereotypical worried wife to Wahlberg's hero.

Ironically, it's two sequences centering around forgotten supporting players ignored by the media that land the biggest emotional blow. The first involves the bravery of carjacking hostage Dun Meng (Jimmy O. Yang), who summons a strength from inside that few could likely access during such an ordeal. On the other end of the spectrum is the jaw-dropping interrogation of Tamerlan Tsarnaev's loyally subservient, radicalized wife, Katherine Russell (Melissa Benoist) at the hands of Khandi Alexander's nameless "The Interrogator." That's who she's actually listed as in the film's credits and after you view the controversial scene (the best acted of the entire picture), you'll know why any other name or description couldn't possibly do her justice.

Since Berg lays everything out so logically it becomes an even bigger question mark as to why he chose to tag on a mini-documentary at the end of a faithful adaptation of events that hardly needs it. Where a quick glimpse at the real people posing with their onscreen counterparts, or even a simple graphic or title card onscreen updating us on those involved would more than suffice, we instead get something you'd more likely find as DVD extra, assuming that medium were still thriving or relevant. While it's unfair to entirely dismiss it or his intentions, the answer as to why Berg would make such a creatively questionable choice proves he has no agenda other than to pay tribute to the survivors and law enforcement. And as far as agendas go, that's a pretty good one to have.
  

La La Land

Director: Damien Chazelle
Starring: Ryan Gosling, Emma Stone, John Legend, Rosemarie DeWitt, J.K. Simmons, Tom Everett Scott, Josh Pence
Running Time: 128 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

There will be those with whom La La Land will strongly connect right out of the gate. It'll be love at first sight for anyone bemoaning the fact they don't make musicals anymore, much less old school Hollywood musicals. For them, the very idea that one could be successfully made today and it not be based on previously produced material from the stage or screen once seems impossible. As does the notion that said musical, released in the year 2016, could not only do exceptionally well critically and commercially, but go on to earn a record-tying fourteen Oscar nominations.  For them, the film's opening sequence, and best musical number, as drivers exit their cars during a traffic jam on a Los Angeles freeway and spontaneously burst into brilliantly choreographed song and dance, will literally be a dream come true. Going in knowing what I did about the film and my tastes, I knew I wouldn't be one of those people. Hardly predisposed to nostalgic movie memories for the genre itself, this would have to reach me some other way. And it would have to really work for it. It can be tough approaching a film this late in the conversation, especially when that discussion revolves around it be being hands-down the best of the year and frontrunner for Best Picture. You can't ignore that. It's there. And it's also baggage.

What hasn't been discussed much about the film is just how few musical numbers there are, or maybe just how carefully they've been placed into the narrative by writer/director Damien Chazelle, mostly in its first half. This is appropriate since La La Land is very much a tale of two movies. One seems tailor made for that aforementioned audience clamoring for the genre's comeback, while the second is a relationship drama about lost love, broken dreams and rejection sure to strike a chord with more skeptical, cynical filmgoers like myself. This was the only movie from the past year I was actually apprehensive to see out of concern it could be a disaster. Under normal circumstances that would be fine. But not from the director of Whiplash and starring Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling. Thankfully, it's easy to see why everyone's going crazy over it. There are about fifteen things, big and small, you could list that are great about the film, and out of those, the natural, easygoing chemistry between its stars has to rank near the top.

We knew when they first shared the screen in 2011's Crazy, Stupid, Love that what Stone and Gosling have and how they play off each other can't just simply be replicated by another random actor pairing. And now two careers whose have been steadily and consistently rising are given the opportunity to show the uninitiated what they're capable of on the biggest stage possible  And still, the whole thing had me worried as it's a bit of a tightrope walk throughout. Even after seeing it, this one had to really sit a while since it does leave you with something. While that "something" isn't ideas, certain scenes and sequences still linger long afterward, indicating this isn't as fluffy as some of its detractors have accused. There's a lot to appreciate here, even if different audiences may find it in entirely different places.

It's winter in Los Angeles and after a brief, but unpleasant highway encounter with struggling Jazz pianist Sebastian (Gosling), Warner Bros studio lot barista and aspiring actress Mia (Stone) is off to another eventually unsuccessful audition. When an attempt by her roommates to brighten her mood by hitting up a Hollywood Hills party ends without her car, she finds herself at a restaurant involved in another chance meeting with Seb, just fired from his gig by owner Bill (J.K. Simmons) for slipping into jazz improvisation during his mandated set. This time, he's even more of a jerk to her. It isn't until a couple of months later that they really connect at a party and soon start to fall head over heels for each other after a few memorable dates at the movies, a jazz club, the studio lot and the Griffith Observatory.

As rapidly as Mia and Seb's relationship is progressing, both their career aspirations have cripplingly stalled, with the painful rejections of the auditioning process proving too much for Mia as she starts working on her single-actress stage play, wondering if she's even cut out for this business at all. Seb's unable to hold down a steady gig, causing him to shelve his dream of opening a jazz club in favor of joining the band of his old friend, Keith (John Legend) as their keyboardist.  But when something starts happening for one of them, their relationship is given a serious test, as they must decide whether fulfilling their dreams in a town known for routinely shattering them is worth the sacrifice of each other.  

That these are two clearly written and defined characters is important to get out of the way first because if they weren't none of the riskier elements would fall into to place like they do. And while there are times they fall into place perfectly, there are also occasional instances when they don't. There were definitely points where a musical number seemed to stretch on a bit too long or a dialogue exchange dragged, but it's tough to tell how much of that can be attributed to it just going with the territory when you make this type of  film, which undoubtedly plays by a different set of rules than usual. That all of this is okay is a credit to how well Chazelle confidently announces from the beginning what we're getting, and while it veers from that formula a bit in the second half, it's still fair to say he never strays too far.

You're either on board or you're not and chances are you'll know within a matter of minutes. It's apparent the movie means business when we see that classic Cinemascope logo pop up on the screen and, following that sensational pre-credits number, a giant 1950's-style title card. While the inventively choreographed "Another Day of Sun" is by far the sunniest, peppiest number in the film, all the ones that follow really strong as well, with the more melancholy and likely Oscar-winning "City of Stars" and Audition ("The Fools Who Dream") being standouts.

Stone and Gosling aren't singers but neither are their characters so the fact that they're not world class crooners or even dancers actually lends an added air of credibility to the proceedings. And it should be noted that such a criticism couldn't even extend to the former, who really acquits herself well in both departments. This is a musical, but as strange as it sounds, that's not what either were hired for. Before anything, they're completely believable as a couple, and for all the attention the songs and musical sequences have gotten, the biggest relief for me is the emphasis on the non-musical scenes and story.

The best moments involve Mia and Seb just talking and getting to know each other against the backdrop of an admittedly heightened and idealized L.A, presented in all its vivid, colorful, widescreen glory by cinematographer Linus Sandgren, foregoing digital to shoot on film and emulate the look and feel of the classic musicals that obviously inspired this one. He's succeeded, as no recently released picture looks quite as inviting as this, and in a really different way that immediately sets it apart. While it's easy to roll your eyes these days at anyone claiming you "have to" see a certain film on the big screen, this actually meets the qualification. Similar praise can be reserved for the costume and production design, which, despite being a throwback, has kind of this timeless quality that's unusual for a film set in present day, with Justin Hurwitz's musical score perfectly and subtly underlining that.

If Gosling's contributions have gone somewhat overlooked in the quieter, more understated role that's only because Emma Stone leaves such an indelible mark. He's nearly as good as the struggling pianist, but it hardly matters since neither performance could fully exist without the other and if you recast just one of them, we wouldn't be having the same conversation about the film we are now.  Despite her rapid ascent and charismatic screen presence over the past five to ten years, Emma isn't necessarily an actress who can be plugged into any part in any project, but she can do this. And does she ever nail it. Mia is pretty much the dream role for her, taking full advantage of the sense of humor, elegance, goofiness and vulnerability she's been bringing to the table since we first saw her a decade ago.

Beaten down by constant rejection, Stone's best scene is an emotional audition where Mia's delivering brilliant, a heart wrenching monologue that's curtly interrupted by a casting agent's utter apathy. The look on her face says everything. No one cares. And she'll mostly be in this alone so it's time to toughen up or get out. It's probably the most realistic moment in a film that consistently and effectively operates on a level of hyper-realism for most of its running time. This also sets the table for what comes later, when the relationship hits a roadblock that doesn't feel manufactured and we're treated to an inspired final fifteen minutes that then proves it isn't, deviating just enough from conventional expectations.

While it's been a bit overstated just how much of a turn the last third takes, this won't be considered a tragedy anytime soon, as both characters aren't exactly suffering. And yet, Chazelle has us so entrenched in this world of theirs, we believe that in some bittersweet way they are. That it's well executed and has something to say about the messiness of life and the pain of missed opportunities only bolsters the overall viewing experience. Having already given us one of the deepest, most thought provoking endings in years with Whiplash, it was brave of Chazelle to even attempt surprising us a second time. Then again, this whole thing is kind of brave when you think about it. There are so many different ways La La Land could have all gone wrong, and that it doesn't, might be more of a feat than all the awards it's received. It's always great seeing something new, but what can be even greater is seeing something old in an entirely fresh light, making it feel new again.
    

Whiplash

Director: Damien Chazelle
Starring: Miles Teller, J.K. Simmons, Paul Reiser, Melissa Benoist, Austin Stowell, Nate Lang, Chris Mulkey, Jayson Blair
Running Time: 106 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

        ***SPOILER WARNING: THIS REVIEW DISCUSSES MAJOR PLOT POINTS IN WHIPLASH, INCLUDING THE ENDING***

"There are no two words in the English language more harmful than good job."

Whiplash audiences will undoubtedly be split into two groups: Those who find its shocking final minutes uplifting and inspirational, cementing the film as a motivational story of being pushed to become the very best in the face of insurmountable pressure. And others who will view it as a tragedy that warns of the dangers of walking too close to the edge of greatness, and the personal cost and sacrifice that often comes with it. Neither interpretation is necessarily incorrect since second-time director Damien Chazelle drops it all on our laps, our reactions revealing just as much about the viewer as it does the actual film.

After the credits roll it takes a couple of minutes to take a breath and process what's happened, until realizing you've been had. Not tricked or manipulated, but taken on the same exhilarating ride as the protagonist, down an organic, inevitable path we were as complicit in following as he the entire time. The thrilling crescendo is a brave, jaw-dropping sequence that pulls the rug right out from under us, presenting the harsh reality of what this film's really about while posing important questions audiences can ponder indefinitely. Everyone will have a different answers.

The ideas Chazelle presents here aren't ones I can ever recall being addressed in a movie, or at least never like this. The contemplation of whether emotionally traumatic experiences make us stronger or weaker is fertile ground and the mentor-student relationship is rarely explored at levels this complicated or confrontational. Executed within the claustrophobic confines of a psychologically tense thriller and a moving coming-of-age story, it turns the viewer into an active participant, on edge and anxiety-ridden over the developing situation. And at its center are two incredible performances backed by a powerful, jazz-infused soundtrack. Despite concerns it strikes such a nerve that it could be too draining or uncomfortable to even experience again, it's too well performed, written and directed for anyone to deprive themselves of multiple viewings.

Andrew Neiman (Miles Teller) is a 19-year-old jazz drummer accepted into the top-ranked Shaffer Conservatory in Manhattan where he's starting his fall semester. He spends most of his free time practicing, aspiring to become one of the drumming greats like Buddy Rich, to whom he frequently listens for inspiration. Andrew's dedication and skill catch the eye of renowned Shaffer conductor Terence Fletcher (J.K. Simmons), who holds a surprise audition that results in him joining his exclusive studio band. But it's clear early that Fletcher's instructional methods seem more in line with Full Metal Jacket's Gunnery Sergeant Hartman than a teacher at a prestigious music school. Screaming, cursing, throwing chairs and sometimes even physically assaulting his students, we're never quite sure if he's really this nuts or this is his plan, attempting to draw their best by motivating through fear and abuse.

Fletcher's favorite target is Andrew and we're not sure whether it's that he actually senses potential greatness in him or just smells weakness and needs to pounce. It's the potential promise of the former that keeps Andrew coming back, even as Fletcher uses that drive and desire to manipulate him, dangling a carrot of approval he'll never give and pushing him past his breaking point. It's approval he also doesn't get from his own family and a satisfaction he still can't even feel from being with his new girlfriend. He has to be the best. But what's the cost?

Hearts pound and pulses race when the clock hits 9 AM and the bald-headed, intimidating Fletcher, clad in all black, marches through the door and immediately starts in with the verbal abuse, terrorizing his students. He has huge outbursts, but the tenser and more quotable moments are found in the small, subtle jabs that make that make them feel three feet tall. There's this impending sense of doom and dread in every scene as the band plays, unsure when he's going to cut in and what he's going to say or do when that happens. With its emphasis on perfection and precision, music is the perfect outlet for a authoritarian personality like his, allowing him to pick apart every mistake, no matter how small. And still green as a freshman, Andrew makes many.

While it's frightening and deliriously entertaining to watch Simmons so thoroughly disappear into the skin of someone like this, what's most impressive is how he finds the shading to play him as a complicated person instead of the one-dimensional monster he could have so easily come across as. In the non-classroom scenes, he plays him as almost a regular (at times even empathetic) guy who hugs a friend, jokes around with a kid, strikes up meaningful personal conversations with Andrew and at one point mourns the passing of a former student. We're left wondering whether these are crocodile tears, but I'm speculating they're not. Fletcher does probably care, but for entirely different reasons and not in the same way most people would. He mourns only the loss of talent. What Simmons' work and Chazelle's script bring to Fletcher is this entire persona he puts on when he enters the classroom, almost as if it's his stage.

Those fleeting moments outside the classroom are what offer real psychological insight into Fletcher's philosophy, to the point where we can almost even understand where he's coming from.  One such conversation with Andrew results in that controversial quote above, cutting to the crux of the film and going a long way toward explaining his character's motivations. While the obvious comparison point to Simmons' turn is R. Lee Ermey's aforementioned drill instructor in Full Metal Jacket or maybe even John Houseman's law professor in The Paper Chase, even those performances don't carry the complexity and nuance his does here. Rarely has the Best Supporting Actor Oscar been this locked up, to the point that even announcing the winner feels like a formality.

Given Andrew's people pleasing personality and hang-ups, it's easy to see why he'd continue coming back to Fletcher for more, despite all the abuse. Miles Teller, who's often compared to a young John Cusack, usually lends an effortlessly easygoing and likable presence to his characters that's part goofy and confident, while also conveying an underdog quality of someone not yet comfortable in their own skin. Watching his journey is legitimately being put in the shoes of someone to which most can relate, with Simmons' performance becoming only that much stronger because of who's on the other end of it, and vice versa.

At first Andrew's a victim, but eventually his tolerance of it makes him an accessory, the obsession with being the best clouding his judgment of how much he can withstand. His dad Jim (Paul Reiser) is a failed novelist turned teacher who obviously cares deeply for his son, but this kind encouragement isn't going to push him to where he wants to be. A family dinner in which the other Neiman boys' accomplishments are thrown in his face only reinforces that. Besides feeling in need of a strong male role model, he's also at the crucial stage of his life where as much as he fears Fletcher, the idea of "failure" (as society defines it) scares him more.

Andrew could have gotten out of this at any time but doesn't. He keeps coming back for more, in search of approval he'll never get as he inches closer to the deep end. After finally gaining the confidence to ask out a pretty girl who works at the movie theater he frequents with his dad, he's again torn between who he is and eventually wants to be. Glee actress Melissa Benoist has only a few brief scenes as Andrew's girlfriend Nicole, but it's the unforgettable break-up that leaves the largest impression, revealing her as the true collateral damage of his obsession with greatness. Recalling the infamous bar scene that opened The Social Network, Andrew just talks and talks, unaware of the pain he's inflicting with each word. As a devastating mixture of sadness, anger and disbelief wash over her eyes, he keeps saying all the wrong things, pushing her away and moving even further from the Andrew we knew at the beginning of the film. Now fully consumed with becoming the best jazz drummer in the world, everyone else is just dead weight.  Even if he manages to mend his fractured family relationships, there won't be another Nicole.

Is there a line? Can you go too far?  In Fletcher's world you can never push someone hard enough if they want to be the best, which is a philosophy that fails to acknowledge that different talents respond differently. But according to him, those who can't cut it  weren't talented enough to begin with. Andrew gets to a place many have been, regardless of situation or circumstance, traveling so deep down the rabbit hole that he can't step back and assess how far this whole thing has gone. He may yet turn into a legendary drummer, but the envelope keeps getting pushed in terms of how much physical stress he can take (you'll be shocked how far the film goes in this regard) and how long Fletcher can get away with this without professional repercussions. For a little while there, we think Andrew has this epiphany, until Chazelle sets us up for the ultimate knockout blow.

It's in the final ten minutes that Andrew literally sheds his blood, sweat and tears pounding on the skins like never before to enter a performance zone neither he or Fletcher had anticipated was possible. Well, maybe Fletcher did. He delivers a chilling reveal at the beginning of the scene that jump starts the film's ride into masterpiece territory and all we can do is just nervously hang on, anticipating the outcome. He eventually gets what he wanted out of Andrew, confirming his methods pushed the student further than his perceived capabilities, into the realm of greatness. Was he right the entire time? Was this whole thing his plan? They both "win," seemingly extracting exactly what they wanted from each other, but the true long-term effects are yet to be measured.

Chazelle isn't condoning or condemning Fletcher's tactics since that's for us to decide. And this isn't a message movie. But it does speak volumes that at Andrew's lowest, most humiliating point he runs from the arms of his caring father right back to his tormentor, as the film transforms into a kind of educational Stockholm syndrome. And the look of awe on Paul Reiser's face conveys the many differing interpretations of this finale, as his son, if only momentarily, seems to earn the respect and approval of his abusive mentor. When Andrew hits that last drumbeat as we simultaneously cut to black, the film brilliantly withholds the key to solving its puzzle: His future. It's the ultimate twist because it literally redefines the idea of one, deflecting all the responsibility onto audiences attempting to decipher it.

Adapted from his own short film and as tight and carefully constructed as the jazz compositions you'll now likely be hearing in your nightmares, Chazelle accomplishes through kinetic editing and breakneck direction, an achievement that transcends its modest indie roots to become something truly great and universal. He creates a world in which it doesn't matter whether the events taking place could actually happen, because within the confines of this environment, they do. All the ideas and human complications Whiplash touches on are real, with its 106 minutes flashing by in what seems like an instant. It's not just a great film and the finest in a very strong year, but a twisted personality test that leaves you emotionally exhausted and physically spent.