Frankenstein

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

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)    

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Priscilla

Director: Sofia Coppola
Starring: Cailee Spaeny, Jacob Elordi, Ari Cohen, Dagmara Domińczyk, Tim Post, Lynne Griffin, Daniel Beirne, Rodrigo Fernandez-Stoll, Dan Abramovici, R. Austin Ball, Stephanie Moore
Running Time: 114 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Going into Sofia Coppola's Priscilla, there's an immediate temptation to pit it against 2022's more bombastic Elvis. And while Priscilla Presley was brushed aside in it, concerns remained this effort could still be redundant, covering much of the same ground despite its shift in focus. But what Coppola serves up instead is a more subdued, contemplative approach that's miles removed from Baz Luhrmann's flashy extravaganza. It's no better or worse an approach, just entirely different, which is probably for the best.

Less about Elvis's rise to fame and legendary career than Priscilla's challenges in living with him, this look at their complicated, volatile relationship is the first to heavily emphasize that controversial age gap, going so far as to paint The King as an abusive child groomer capable of flying off the handle at a moment's notice. And yet he manages to disarm everyone he meets, initially obscuring his worst qualities from the smitten, impressionable teen. While their union may not pass the legal or ethical sniff test, Coppola succeeds in believably showing its effects on the future and former Mrs. Presley, who silently ached to escape her husband's shadow.  

It's 1959 and 14 year-old Priscilla Beaulieu (Cailee Spaeny) lives with her family in West Germany, where her stepfather, Captain Beaulieu (Ari Cohen) is stationed in the military. At a party on the base, Priscilla is introduced to the recently drafted 24-year-old world famous singer Elvis Presley (Jacob Elordi), who takes an immediate liking to her. Flustered by his affections, they begin dating, and after some early resistance from Priscilla's parents, it isn't long before they're also won over by Elvis's manners and charm. 

Following Elvis's tour of duty, Priscilla moves to his Graceland estate in Memphis and enrolls at the local Catholic high school, where she faces increased scrutiny. Behind closed doors, he exerts control over every aspect of her life, getting hooked on prescription drugs while rumors of his alleged infidelity swirl in the tabloids. Prone to wild mood swings, his verbally and physically abusive behavior lead to Priscilla being bought off with gifts and hollow apologies. Amidst his worsening addictions, the relationship deteriorates, while she quietly yearns for a fresh start.  

That Spaeny and Elordi don't physically resemble Priscilla and Elvis in the slightest actually helps Coppola's cause since neither come across as attempting an impersonation of any sort. You even have to occasionally remind yourself who they're playing since this couple is often more intriguing than the genuine article, who always seemed just out of our reach, their true selves obscured by the media frenzy surrounding them. 

This feels like a deeper, more intelligent look at who they were as people, with an increased emphasis on Priscilla's doe eyed innocence and naivety, as Spaeny believably transforms from teen to late twenties woman over the course of the film. A relative unknown, she's a revelation in the role, conveying all the excitement, trepidation and fear that might accompany this girl's relationship with the biggest celebrity on the planet.

As recently demonstrated in Saltburn, Elordi's magnetic screen presence makes him an inspired choice for Elvis, and despite not looking like him and towering over a diminutive Spaeny, this works. If anything, it highlights the distance between them and an obviously uneven power dynamic that will only grow larger as the film progresses. And Coppola's wise enough not to have Elordi emulate Austin Butler's portrayal, tailoring this different take to the actor's specific strengths. There's also no Colonel Parker to be found in a movie where he wouldn't quite fit, his involvement limited to a briefly overheard phone call and a few passing mentions.

Elvis effortlessly impresses Priscilla's pushover parents by appealing to her father's sense of duty and respect. After dismissing everything their daughter says, one visit from him and they're completely on board with her moving to Graceland. And as much as Priscilla's vulnerability stands out against the older, experienced Elvis, his superstar status has given him a free pass to get away with a lot, and he definitely uses it.  

Leaving her small town existence behind brings a new series of challenges for Priscilla that few of any age could handle. Just as Elvis's tantrums seem to reach their crescendo, the realization hits that they're not even married yet, nor has she given birth to Lisa Marie. In other words, it'll get far worse, and while his extended absences feel like a respite, she still clings to him while struggling to craft her own separate identity. 

If Coppola's previously been accused of sacrificing substance for style, the atmosphere she, cinematographer Philippe Le Sourd, production designer Tamara Deverell create with Graceland feels like an ideal balance of the two, with Priscilla hauled up in a palace of superficial beauty that doubles as her penitentiary, not unlike the setting that plagued Princess Diana in 2021's Spencer. And similarly, it isn't a single event, but rather slow, steady stream of them that break her, leading to the eventual epiphany.

Impeccably made and anchored by a tremendous star-making performance from Spaeney, Coppola again explores her go-to theme of isolated women emotionally imprisoned by the trappings of wealth and fame. But there's something that feels more coldly detached about this, zeroing in on all the right parts of Priscilla's 1985 memoir and filling the gaps with smaller, slice-of-life moments absent from other Elvis-related projects. If it's sometimes easy to agree with biopic skeptics who think we never need another take on anyone, this shows there's usually room for a new perspective that challenges those preconceived notions.                 

Saltburn

Director: Emerald Fennell
Starring: Barry Keoghan, Jacob Elordi, Rosamund Pike, Richard E. Grant, Alison Oliver, Archie Medekwe, Carey Mulligan, Paul Rhys, Ewan Michell, Sadie Soverall, Dorothy Atkinson, Shaun Dooley
Running Time: 131 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

Emerald Fennell's Saltburn is one of those "blank check" movies where a studio is so bowled over by a director's early success that they've granted them the keys to the kingdom for a follow-up. It's a creative luxury many have used to make their ambitious dream projects that wouldn't usually see the light of day, polarizing critics and audiences alike. Now after 2020's Promising Young Woman, Fennel gets her shot, but deservedly so, since the last thing we need is for big swings like this to disappear as artists are shackled and second guessed.

With a script more interested in obsession than social commentary, its "eat the rich" tale combines elements of The Talented Mr. Ripley, A Clockwork Orange, Brideshead Revisited, and more unfortunately, the fourth season of Netflix's You. Intentionally lacking in depth, viewer enjoyment mostly depends on whether you feel the disgusting shocks are justified by a pitch black satire that starts promisingly enough before flying off the rails. Multiple bodily fluids are ingested and exchanged, as it bombastically hurls toward its destination, making for one of the weirder cases of style over substance.

It's 2006 and scholarship student Oliver Quick (Barry Keoghan) is starting his freshman year at Oxford University, awkwardly attempting to fit in before befriending wealthy and charismatic upperclassman Felix Catton (Jacob Elordi). Sympathetic to his troubled upbringing, the popular Felix takes Oliver under his wing, accepting him into his circle of friends. Reeling from the news of his father's sudden death, Oliver accepts Felix's invitation to stay the summer at the Catton family's Saltburn estate to relax. While there, he meets Felix's eccentric parents Sir James (Richard E. Grant) and Lady Elspeth (Rosamund Pike), his unpredictable sister Venetia (Alison Oliver) and Elspeth's frequent houseguest Pamela (Carey Mulligan). 

Also joining them is Felix's cousin and Oliver's Oxford nemesis Farleigh (Archie Madekwe), a longtime fixture at the mansion who's becoming increasingly skeptical of the new guest's intentions. But Elspeth takes an immediate liking to Oliver, as he's quickly intoxicated by this opulent lifestyle surrounding him. Feeling truly accepted for the first time, his fascination with Felix escalates, along with the Catton family's bizarre behavior. The question isn't when Oliver will leave Saltburn, but whether he can, or even wants to.

You can sense Oliver's fortunes transform overnight after Felix's endorsement, almost immediately establishing him as popular by association. Felix casts such a spell over everyone that just being in his orbit gives Oliver a respectability he couldn't ever achieve on his own. The film's at its best when exploring this massive power imbalance that informs the essence of their parasitic friendship. And the two actors play those notes to perfection, with Keoghan's nerdy, withdrawn, deer in headlights protagonist thirsting for validation, even as we brace ourselves for the possibility he's being used. 

If Keoghan excels as this desperately awkward outsider, Elordi radiates an effortless cool factor that helps explain why so many are high on his potential as a major screen star. His performance remains remarkably consistent when the screenplay zigs and zags, subverting expectations of what was originally assumed about both characters. But once the action shifts to Saltburn and Felix's dysfunctional family enters the equation, the story heads into more polarizing territory.

Nothing that unfolds is particularly "offensive," just skeevy and gross, which could be the purpose. Even while inconsistently straddling the line between dark comedy and thriller, the production design of this intimidating estate (complete with a Shining-like hedge maze) is a sight to behold. Gorgeously lensed with some really impressive tracking shots, sets and costuming, it's nearly impossible to criticize on a technical level. The supporting performances from Grant, Oliver and Madekwe also make their marks, but it's Pike's deliciously droll Elspeth that leaves the largest. And Carey Mulligan is unrecognizable in her hilariously credited "Poor Dear" Pamela cameo, looking like she just escaped the set of a Pieces of April sequel.  

The real danger isn't this family or the estate itself, but what it represents for Oliver, whose compulsions know no bounds. And within these walls Felix is sent crashing back down to earth, the charming aristocrat he portrays on campus giving way to a scared, spoiled boy crying out for attention. Fennell needlessly holds viewers' hands at the end, overexplaining details that should be obvious to anyone paying attention. But the closing moments are a doozy, as the film gleefully basks in its own hedonistic excess with a final shot that wouldn't have seemed out of place in American Psycho.  

Overindulgent but never boring, there's just no telling how huge a disaster this could have been with a someone else at the helm. Leaving just enough of an impression to transcend the insanity, it's hard not to be impressed and repulsed by what Fennell does, knowing she'll come out of this a bolder filmmaker than she was going in. While way inferior to her previous effort, Saltburn's far from an atrocity, its admitted faults rarely stemming from a lack of vision.

Deep Water

Director: Adrian Lyne
Starring: Ben Affleck, Ana de Armas, Tracy Letts, Grace Jenkins, Rachel Blanchard, Kristen Connolly, Jacob Elordi, Lil Rel Howery, Brendan C. Miller, Finn Wittrock 
Running Time: 115 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

A man watches his wife flaunt her extra-marital affairs about town, outwardly accepting that she can do whatever she wants in their open relationship, even while he's viewed as an emasculated joke by their friends. Slowly, he grows tired of this humiliating arrangement and a rage builds inside. No longer able  to contain himself, it's only a matter of time before he snaps. But enough already about Will Smith's marriage. Adrian Lyne's latest erotic thriller, Deep Water, finds the 81 year-old director back in territory reminiscent of some of his most notable and controversial efforts, such as 9½ Weeks, Fatal Attraction, Indecent Proposal and Unfaithful. 

The tone here isn't nearly as sure-footed, but as far as B-movie sleaze goes, it's actually a lot of fun. Of course, this is more of a good time if you're receptive to the idea of watching a darkly comedic parody of those aforementioned films, which some would accuse of already being spoofs of sorts. That it looks great, is well made and carried by two stars as talented as they are famous helps a lot, with both actors totally game and aware of the type of project they're in, committing themselves accordingly.

Vic Van Allen (Ben Affleck) is a wealthy, retired robotics engineer living with his wife, Melinda (Ana de Armas) and their young daughter Trixie (Grace Jenkins) in the small town of Little Wesley, Louisiana. Their combative, almost entirely loveless union is built upon a mostly unspoken arrangement that seems to benefit her far more than he. It's basically understood, even by friends who know them, that they're in an open marriage where she can comfortably take on as many lovers as she wishes just so long as she doesn't abandon her family. 

The flirty, extroverted Melinda relishes attention from men, publicly throwing herself at each new one she encounters as a sullen, morose Vic stands in the corner at parties, seething with jealousy. With his role how relegated to making dinner for her various boyfriends, he's finally had a enough. After Vic makes a not so thinly veiled threat against Melinda's current flame, younger musician, Joel Dash (Brendan C. Miller), about having previously killed one of her ex-lovers, their marriage is now on shakier ground than ever. And when her latest boyfriend ends up dead in a swimming pool, suspicion turns toward Vic, who may or may not be harboring a dark secret that threatens to unravel their already toxic relationship.      

Most of the opening hour sees sulking, dejected Affleck as Vic almost sleepwalking through his wife's very public displays of infidelity. If an open marriage arrangement was made, he was either the last on Earth to find out or entirely uncomfortable with the ground rules. It turns out to be the latter, and whatever sympathy anyone could muster for him having to watch his wife throw herself at every man in town evaporates a lot faster than you'd expect. She's a handful for sure, fiery and and wildly unpredictable, but if he really cared that much he'd just leave, so a good portion of the film is spent waiting for him to explode. 

Her indifference to his anger is evident when she first brings home her "piano teacher," Charlie (Jacob Elordi) and then college ex Tony (Finn Wittrock), both of whom send Vic over the deep end. Leaving Melinda is too simple a solution and against his supposed principles, so if he can't have her all to himself, we can figure out the rest. When the film's major centerpiece incident occurs and nosy neighbor Don Wilson (Tracy Letts) becomes obsessed with proving Vic's a murderer, much to his wife Kelly's (Kristen Connolly) justifiable embarrassment.

While many have given Affleck a tough time for taking on troubled, middle-aged sad sack roles like this, he's really exceptional at it, especially here when given very little dialogue in the picture's first half, instead revealing most of Vic's inner plight through depressive body language and facial expressions. And after breaking through in Knives Out and outright stealing No Time to Die, this further extends Ana de Armas' streak as one of the most exciting actresses around. Bringing a wildly devious, frenetic energy to Melinda's every scene, de Armas is completely convincing as this woman entirely uninterested in being controlled by her husband or anyone else. You almost get the impression that Vic could kill not only half the men in this small town, but most of Louisiana, and Melinda still wouldn't run out of candidates to sleep with just because she can.

As absurd as the entire plot is at times, Lyne does really get a lot of little details right, like the social dynamic, as Vic and Melinda's friends look at their fractured marriage with both bewilderment and pity, at least when they're not partying. Watching, all we can think of is the adverse affect it's likely having on precocious daughter Trixie, who's stuck in the middle of this mess with two walking disasters for parents. 

Tracy Letts basically steals the show as the very suspicious Don, who's plagued by his unhealthy preoccupation with exposing Vic's potential guilt. It leads the story down a ridiculously compelling path, as he's good enough an actor to actually us that this pompous windbag of a character would take the dumb steps he does in the crazy last act. At the very least, it's no more far-fetched than believing Affleck as a retiree who amassed his great wealth from building guidance chips for drones, a detail that results in a lively political argument.  

That a long gestating project completed years ago was earmarked for a theatrical rollout before heading to Hulu shouldn't be taken as a damning indictment on its quality, especially since such a fate is commonplace now for mid-level adult dramas. If nothing else, it contains one of the more insane vehicular chase scenes in recent memory, featuring some extreme mountain biking and an important public service warning for anyone still on the fence about that whole texting while driving issue.  

That this is actually based on a 1957 Patricia Highsmith novel seems almost impossible to believe given how jarringly modern its story and setting feels. Having not read the book and going strictly by its synopsis, Zach Helm and Sam Levinson's screenplay doesn't seem to veer far from the source plot-wise, aside from a wacky ending. In this sense, Lyne deserve a lot of credit for updating the material to fit the type of 90's erotic thriller Deep Water is clearly being patterned after. While mileage may vary as to how successfully viewers think this was captured, it still harnesses something in that realm with more entertaining flare than expected.