BlackBerry

Director: Matt Johnson
Starring: Jay Baruchel, Glenn Howerton, Matt Johnson, Rich Sommer, Michael Ironside, Martin Donovan, SungWon Cho, Mark Critch, Saul Rubinek, Cary Elwes
Running Time: 121 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

The best thing about Matt Johnson's biopic depicting the creation of the BlackBerry mobile phone is how for extended periods you completely forget what it's supposed to be about. When the groundbreaking device makes its first appearance it actually feels like a shock, as if we haven't been building to that moment since its retro cool opening credit sequence. A mismatched pairing of two wildly different personalities, what transpires is far bigger than either envisioned, until eventually swallowing them both whole. But the best stuff comes before that when we see how this nerdy, inefficient entrepreneur reluctantly joins forces with a quick-tempered, cutthroat executive. And what should be a partnership from hell ends up working out better than expected, at least for a while.  

A character study to its core, this differs from other features about popular consumer products by deeply investing in the people involved, showing exactly how they were positively and negatively impacted by their venture. Unlike the recent Tetris, it doesn't try to be something it's not, instead examining the nuts and bolts of BlackBerry's rise to cultural prominence by getting inside the heads of those who made the magic happen. It explores their motivations and mistakes, while also charting the change they undergo when success arrives. It's not so much that they're flawed than unprepared for what awaits, suddenly forced to adapt or fall behind.

It's 1996 in Waterloo, Canada when Research in Motion (RIM) CEO Mike Lazaridis (Jay Baruchel) and best friend and co-founder Douglas Fregin (Johnson) present their new "PocketLink" cellular device to an unimpressed, distracted executive named Jim Balsille (Glenn Howerton). After their pitch bombs and Jim's hubris gets him fired from his firm, he reaches out to Mike and Doug again, offering to work with them if he's named CEO of RIM and gets half the company. Jim instead settles for a third of the pie and a Co-CEO title alongside Mike, quickly realizing they need more help than he thought. 

Upon discovering RIM is a ragtag, money losing operation with engineers spending their days playing video games and watching movies, an intimidating Jim makes swift changes, landing him and Mike a meeting at Bell Atlantic to demonstrate an early "PocketLink" prototype that will soon be rebranded the "BlackBerry." It's a breakthrough, but the device's astonishing popularity soon makes the company a target, as they're fighting off hostile takeovers, the SEC, and the sudden emergence of Apple's revolutionary iPhone. A thrilling run while it lasts, what they built is about to come crashing down. 

Loosely adapted from the 2015 book, "Losing the Signal: The Untold Story Behind the Extraordinary Rise and Spectacular Fall of BlackBerry," the whole setup is hilarious, with these men from two vastly different worlds somehow co-existing under one banner. Johnson's script really plays up just how awkwardly bumbling Mike and Doug are, making you wonder how they were let into Jim's office to begin with, much less founded a tech company of their own. The most creative liberties are probably taken here, but it helps make the story, as exceptional writing and performances breathe vibrant life into what could have easily been the driest of topics.

Mike and Jim need each other more than they know, since this brilliant but underachieving slacker  lacks the business savvy the latter brings to the table. Conversely, Mike possesses the technical expertise Jim can only fake. While they mix like oil and water, it's clear Jim sees potential in his impressionable co-chair that can be exploited so long as he handles the financial end. The film's pivot point is a Bell Atlantic meeting where Mike comes to the rescue, saving the pitch and setting them on a path where the company soars, growing at an uncontrollable rate neither can fully comprehend.

When BlackBerry takes over the cell phone market in the mid 00's, there's no turning back, which is bad news for bandana-wearing, movie obsessed co-founder Doug, who soon becomes the odd man out. Discovering an autonomy he never knew he had, Mike realizes his best friend's laid-back approach no longer fits into this new corporate structure and the days of needing Doug's input fall by the wayside. One of the funniest details come when RIM offices move, and despite the upgrade, 80's movie posters still hang, the goofing around persists and nothing changes beyond their location. But it needs to, and despite his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles wallet and video game tees, even Doug sees the writing on the wall that he's become the Woz to Mike's Steve Jobs. 

Having mortgaged his home to finance a project that's now made him richer than he ever thought possible, Jim's on top of the world. But he also has an enormous ego that's about to fly off the rails as he fends off scheming Palm CEO Carl Yankowski (Cary Elwes), installs a new no-nonsense COO in Charles Purdy (Michael Ironside) and attempts to purchase a hockey franchise. Mike and Jim's abilities to cover the other's flaws are undone by mounting legal woes that pale in comparison to their inability to counter the iPhone. The film's final scene isn't just an ingenious callback to Mike's obsession with problem solving, but how he's forced to do something he swore he wouldn't in order to keep going.

Best known for his supporting comedy roles Jay Baruchel gets a long deserved showcase, as he credibly conveys the inexperienced Mike's transformative ascent and eventual decline. Subtly indicating a constant sense of insecurity and guilt, he plays the character as if he fears everything is a fluke that could disappear at any moment. There's no such trepidation in Jim, with Glenn Howerton imbuing this greedy piranha with a slick, bombastic bluster that enables him to steamroll over everyone in his way. Knowing the clock's quickly running out, he's determined to milk every last bit of leverage, with self-sabotaging results. 

Matt Johnson provides the largest dose of comedic relief, further highlighting just how seismic a shift his friend undergoes. Doug's left in the dust, even if you can't help but think he comes out the least damaged of the three. Comfortably feeling every bit like a Canadian production in both its setting and casting, Johnson's most important contribution comes as co-writer and director, with the filmmaker showing the potential downsides of having an idea years ahead of its time. The public has to be ready for it, the technology flawless, and the capital available. If just one is missing, it's wise to brace for eventual failure.  

These guys knew exactly where the future was headed, but the obstacles proved too much, turning this into a cautionary tale that isn't entirely dissimilar to The Social Network or the great AMC series Halt and Catch Fire. It's nice to get there first, but a greater feat to actually be the last left standing at the end. BlackBerry rarely needs to remind us we're looking at the individuals who invented the smartphone, as they appear equally in awe themselves, struggling to figure it all out as they go along.

Nobody

Director: Ilya Naishuller
Starring: Bob Odenkirk, Connie Nielsen, Aleksei Serebryakov, RZA, Christopher Lloyd, Gage Munroe, Paisley Cadorath, Michael Ironside, Billy MacLellan, Colin Salmon
Running Time: 92 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Chuck Norris. Charles Bronson. Arnold Schwarzenegger. Sylvester Stallone. Bob Odenkirk? As odd as you'd think that seems, the crime thriller Nobody is all about this. The concept of not just Odenkirk as an action star, but the idea of a performer stepping so far outside audience's preconceived notions of them that we begin to grow an even greater appreciation of of their many talents. Not that it's newsworthy for actors to frequently dabble in different genres, with viewers now more aware that the crossover between TV and films have created an environment where "typecasting" nears extinction. 

That someone like Bryan Cranston, who played a sitcom dad on Malcolm in the Middle could later immerse himself in a cancer-striken drug kingpin on one of televison's greatest dramas certainly helped change perceptions. Actors act, but there will always be doubters, especially of someone as comedically inclined as Mr. Show vet Odenkirk, who aleady proved naysayers wrong as Saul Goodman on Breaking Bad, before dramatically powering its prequel, Better Call Saul, with a character many falsely assumed was too silly to stand on its own. 

If a precedent of defying odds had already been set with Odenkirk, it's taken to an entirely different level here, as he enters the genre with a pushback that's not entirely dissimilar to what Liam Neeson initially encountered. That Neeson is the closest comparision should give you an idea at the kind of leap he's taking, even if it's unlikely he'll want to carve out a similar action career. But the point is that he could. That's the shocker, even for those with full faith in his ability to pull this off. Granted, it isn't Death Wish, Rambo or even John Wick, but there's very little winking at the audience, with moments of dark, self-referential humor that play directly to his strengths, taking itself dead seriously when necessary. 

Hutch Mansell (Odenkirk) is a seemingly average guy who has two kids with his successful real estate agent wife Becca (Connie Nielsen) and frequently forgets to take out to the trash before going to work at father-in-law Eddie's (Michael Ironside) metal fabrication company. Between a lack of intimacy with Becca, tending to his ex-FBI agent father David (Christopher Lloyd) in a nursing home and teen son Brady (Gage Munroe) showing him no respect, Hutch's life is in a rut, as this boring routine zaps him of all ambition and drive. But when the family are subjected to a home invasion and Hutch lets the intruders get away, his inaction is heavily scrutinized, prompting him to hunt down the criminals himself. 

Hutch finds the perpetrators, but also gets more than he bargained for when a violent encounter with gang members on a public bus make him the target of ruthless Russian mob boss,Yulian Kuznetsov (Aleksei Serebryakov). Now a marked man with his family in grave danger, the shady nature of Hutch's past starts coming to light, revealing the true motivations behind his passive approach during the attempted robbery. Suddenly sucked back into a violent life he left far behind, he'll need to rely on his resourcefulness and maybe recruit some unexpected help in finishing a war that wasn't supposed to start. 

Hutch's trajectory isn't that far removed a pre-Heisenberg car washing, high school chemistry teaching Walter White on Breaking Bad or a Cinnabon managing Gene Takovic from Better Call Saul's flash forwards. By society's standards he's considered a total failure, or by more realistic expectations, a depressed, sad sack who simply blends in. It's clear his family, aside from a doting young daughter, turn their noses up at him, as do co-workers and mere acquaintances who sure are judgy about his actions during a burglarly they didn't even witness. Odenkirk's so good at making us think this bothers Hutch more than it actually does since the character already knows something we don't. This isn't just about an emasculated middle class white guy snapping and going on a rampage ala Falling Down. 

The events and its ensuing fallout get to Hutch, just not in the way we would have suspected. It doesn't necessarily wound his ego because he isn't a Walt, but instead a Gene. This isn't his first rodeo, and the anguish he's been feeling stems mainly from having to suppress these dark, turbulent tendencies behind the facade of a once happy marriage and white picket fence. A new life is what he wanted and still does, but it's starting to bore the hell out of him. The reckoning that begins with this break-in was a long time coming and that's what makes the story a lot more engaging than if some loser suddenly took to the streets vigilante-style. The script also provides great cover for Odenkirk doing things that even under the most fanciful Hollywood circumstances would be too far a bridge for disbelieving audiences to cross. 

This backstory allows them to effortlessly cross that barrier of skepticism and let Odenkirk do the rest, as it can't be overstated just how well he pulls that off. The bus fight sequence is pivotal in not only providing the film its centerpiece, but establishing the rules. This guy's dangerous, but not invincible. What plays out from then on can best be described as an ongoing symphony of violence, as Hutch's fearless, all-out assault against these mobsters gets underway, along with some really inspiring and off-the-wall music choices providing the backdrop. Even the main villain gets a musical introduction so bizarre that it nearly forces itself to work, and succeeds. And if trying to spot a completely unrecognizable Michael Ironside as Hutch's father-in-law isn't enough to get your attention, there's barely enough time to register that the legendary Christopher Lloyd hasn't been given enough to do before he's suddenly handling a great deal more than we thought was possible. 

Proving the power of inventive casting, Nobody couldn't have stood out nearly as much with a more predictable performer in the lead. It's rare that the entire draw of an action project rests with the audience's relationship and familiarity with the star, but Odenkirk's performance is why this all works.  He believably shifts into ass-kicking mode and does it with large doses of brutality, leaving little doubt this is someone who shouldn't be underestimated, complete with an ending and mid-credits scene heavily implying we haven't seen the last of Hutch. Whether or not the role was specifically tailored to the actor's skillset, director Ilya Naishuller and writer (and John Wick creator) Derek Kolstad craft the action and story around Odenkirk's ability to play a seemingly ordinary man thrust into extraordinary circumstances. And he's more than up to the task, elevating a well-made, if functionally generic action vehicle into something that leaves a stronger impression.