Black Mirror (Season 7)

Creator: Charlie Brooker
Starring: Rashida Jones, Chris O' Dowd, Tracee Ellis Ross, Siena Kelly, Rosy McEwen, Ben Bailey Smith, Issa Rae, Awkwafina, Emma Corrin, Harriet Walter, Peter Capaldi, Lewis Gribben, Will Poulter, Paul Giamatti, Patsy Ferran, Cristin Milioti, Jesse Plemons, Jimmi Simpson, Billy Magnussen
Original Airdate: 2025

★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

If there's a recurring complaint about Charlie Brooker's British sci-fi anthology series Black Mirror, it's that its dark edge has gradually dulled since moving to Netflix in 2016 and becoming more "Americanized." And while there may be some truth to that, the bigger concern has been consistency, especially amid a revolving door of talent in front and behind the camera. With viewers often unsure when or if another season is coming, apathy can also set in, all while its critics continue to accuse Brooker of presenting repetitive variations on a similar theme. 

There's no denying that the dangers of modern technology provide its writers with endlessly fertile ground to draw from. But if the series always adheres to a comfortable formula (tech + humans = bad), veering too close or far from it has proved risky, especially when its most memorable entries tend to hit that sweet spot in between. This season continues the tradition, irritating those put off by the series' length and pacing while still appeasing fans enthralled with its Twilight Zone-inspired storytelling.

Because of its anthology format, none of the stories directly connect, but the show's been around long enough to have its own self contained universe, full of Easter eggs, callbacks, and tiny details tied to previous episodes. Now they've taken this further with a full blown sequel and spin-off that expand on what came before, while another cribs from the series' most beloved entry, suffering in comparison. The smartest entries always put the human element first, establishing its characters before their lives are upended by a twist that reveals who they really are. As usual, it's a trip worth taking, so long as you prepare yourself for a mixed bag of high and lows.

"Common People"  ★★½ (out of ★★★★)

When schoolteacher Amanda (Rashida Jones) falls into a coma with a brain tumor in director Aly Pankiw's depressing "Common People," her welder husband Mike (Chris O' Dowd) is approached by "Rivermind" representative Gaynor (Tracee Ellis Ross). If he signs on the dotted line for a monthly fee, the company can wirelessly transfer Amanda's lost brain function from its servers, giving her a second chance at life. But after she awakens and seemingly resumes normal activity, complications arise that require frequent subscription upgrades and more money to fix. And it's cash they just don't have, leading Mike to take desperate measures.

Though lacking surprises, this has its moments, mainly involving the procedure's wacky side effects and dire consequences related to Mike's perverse method for raising funds. A timely, damning indictment of the healthcare system, this bludgeons us with a message many already agree with, even if it doesn't offer a profound statement beyond watching the couple continuously suffer. The performances help pull it through, reminding us that the talented Jones should be doing more dramatic work while O' Dowd delivers as the anguished, supportive husband. You'll see the last scene coming from a mile away, but at least it's the right ending.

"Bête Noire" ★★★½ (out of ★★★★) 

The more unpredictable "Bête Noire" focuses on ace chocolate company food scientist Maria (Siena Kelly), who's stunned to see her old high school classmate Verity (Rosy McEwan) at headquarters before being hired as the newest assistant. But when Maria starts getting blamed for mistakes around the office, she suspects the quirky, eccentric Verity is behind it. Only there's a lot more to their history than we know, including a shocking secret that has Maria fighting to keep her job and sanity.

Skillfully directed by Toby Haynes, this contains a promising premise shrouded in mystery while doubling as a character study that explores the gap between perception and reality. After teasing a clever parable about gaslighting or maybe even some kind of Mandela Effect, the story's tech angle kicks in when the rug's pulled out in an intriguing third act twist. Featuring a handful of clever tiny details and two wildly entertaining performances, it's probably the most underappreciated of the season, likely to hold up on repeated watches. It takes a big swing toward the end that isn't completely earned, but the toxic interpersonal relationship keeps viewers guessing throughout its tight, well constructed 49 minutes. 

 

"Hotel Reverie" ★★½ (out of ★★★★)

Hotel Reverie features a promising premise that just doesn't reach its full potential despite the noblest intentions. When A-list star Brandy Friday (Issa Rae) unknowingly signs on to an AI-based remake of the classic film Hotel Reverie for ReDream productions, her consciousness gets uploaded into the black and white romantic drama. But after falling in love with a digital recreation of doomed actress Dorothy Chambers (Emma Corrin), sticking to the script becomes difficult, especially as an increasingly self aware Dorothy opens her eyes and heart to a world beyond the movie. Unfortunately, Brandy's desire for them to be together doesn't just threaten the film, but both their existences. 

Those classifying this as a poor man's "San Junipero" may actually be on to something beyond the obvious plot similarities of a romance defying constraints of time and space. It's almost as if there's a deliberate attempt by Brooker and director Haolu Wang an to recreate the magic of that Emmy winning episode, which is ironic for a script that revolves entirely around a remake. But Brooker's constant callbacks to that episode have actually done the series a disservice by setting other entries up for failure. This feels like one of them.

The real highlight is Emma Corrin's frighteningly believable turn as a golden age Hollywood star with personal demons who must face a sudden, shocking truth about herself. Issa Rae impresses less, though some of that can be attributed to playing a character already out of her element. They also lack chemistry, even if the bits within the film's AI universe do visually dazzle, providing a glimpse into what many hope won't be the future of movies. While marginally successful as a cautionary tale, sluggish pacing keeps the story at an arm's length. If nothing else, it's worth catching for Corrin's performance.

 

"Plaything" ★★★ (out of ★★★★)

An unofficial sequel to Black Mirror's 2018 interactive film Banderswitch, "Plaything" takes place in 2034, as manic, disheveled shoplifter Cameron Walker (Peter Capaldi) is linked by police to the murder of an unidentified victim decades ago. While interrogated, he opens up about the crime, which took place when the former PC Zone writer was invited by genius programmer Colin Ritman (Will Poulter) to review Tuckersoft's latest simulation game, "Thronglets." Ahead of its time, the game features no conflict, instead requiring the player to raise digital, sentient creatures. But when an obsessive Cameron becomes overly devoted to caring for them, tragedy strikes, causing him to go off the deep end.

Director David Slade keeps it simple, to the point that seeing Banderswitch is hardly a prerequisite to understanding or appreciating what unfolds. There's also a refreshingly direct throughline about human cruelty that may temporarily silence detractors who feel the series has lost its bite, with this episode coming closest to capturing the pessimistic world view of its early installments. And as good as Capaldi is in his unhinged turn, Lewis Gribbon equals him as younger Cameron, showing us how this awkward, supercharged bundle of nerves gets sucked into the addictive world of Colin's groundbreaking creation.  But it's really the juxtaposition of these innocent Minion-like creatures alongside an eventual eruption of violence that gives this episode its resonance. The implications are larger and wider reaching than the story's scale would suggest, leaving us with more to consider after the credits roll.

 

"Eulogy" ★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Deeply human and personal, "Eulogy" transfixes from start to finish, as lonely, middle-aged Phillip (Paul Giamatti) receives news from a company called "Eulogy" that his ex-girlfriend Carol (Hazel Monaghan) recently died. Despite having not seen her in decades, he's asked to contribute to the memorial via a kit that enables users to virtually step into their old photos. 

While taken through this process by The Guide (Patsy Ferran), an irritated, resistant Phillip realizes that he defaced all pictures of Carol after their break-up, adversely affecting memory retrieval. But as he walks through these photos, the pain and joy he experienced comes flooding back, forcing him to confront the actual truth about their relationship.

The concept of nostalgia therapy has been explored in Black Mirror a few times before, but never to this extent, and rarely as powerfully. Carrying thematic echoes of Serling's classic Twilight Zone episode "Walking Distance," there's no funny business here, as the episode's technological hook organically intertwines with its narrative to enhance this extremely relatable story of missed opportunity and regret. A touching treatise on the lies people tell themselves to make sense of their past choices, the episode isn't just Phillip's personal therapy session, but a virtual time capsule of sorts. 

Visually, directors Chris Barrett and Luke Taylor make the most of their photographic locations with Phillip physically traveling from one memory to the next, aided by an increasingly opinionated guide who extracts new truths from him at each stop. What results is something akin to a puzzle, with small clues gradually pushing the protagonist to drop his guard and acknowledge he wasn't exactly an innocent victim. It also shows how memories can positively and negatively co-exist in our minds, frequently clouding facts and obscuring objectivity. 

Giamatti hits all these heartbreaking beats with just the right mix of despair and bitterness, invoking genuine empathy for a cranky, irascible man who gets a front row seat to his biggest mistake. And as the dryly bemused guide with a secret, Farran makes for an ideal onscreen counterpart. The big twist is a slam dunk not just because it makes sense, but stands in stark contrast to the gloom and doom that's defined the series, this time using the technology to bring our protagonist closer to a more authentic version of himself and his past.

 

"USS Callister: Into Infinity" ★★★½ (out of ★★★★)  

Exciting and briskly paced, "USS Callister: Into Infinity" picks up after Callister Inc. employee Nanette (Cristin Milioti) discovered that deceased company CTO Robert Daly (Jesse Plemons) was harvesting her and other co-workers' DNA to create digital clones for his game. Now with sleazy CEO James Walton (Jimmi Simpson) being questioned by a reporter about Daly's technology, he and Nanette enter "Infinity" to help. But while Nanette's game avatar struggles to ensure her crew's survival by stealing space credits, a dark secret at the heart of Daly's creation puts them in further peril.  

The biggest surprise isn't how Brooker and returning director Toby Haynes seamlessly continue where Season 4's highly acclaimed, Star Trek-inspired space adventure left off, but that every original participant returns 7 years later. Of all the episodes, this is easily the most fun, immediately alleviating all concerns about remembering the previous chapter's details with a brief synopsis. But even those who missed the original should still find themselves immersed without confusion, investing in these quirky characters as the action shifts between the real world and this multiplayer universe.  

Milioti and Simpson entertainingly carry this in dual roles as the already blurry line separating game from reality is further obliterated by Daly, whose technological reach extends from beyond the grave. And while Plemons' screen time is less, he adds such a different dimension to his toxic, antisocial programmer it may as well be another part entirely. And in some ways it is, with Nanette and her crew finding that out the hard way, despite her best efforts to obtain a different result. Comedic and suspenseful, it's hour and a half flies by, raising the stakes while reaping the benefits of not being as heavy a watch as the other episodes. It's a worthy follow-up that not only builds on the original, but frequently surpasses it.                                 

The Holdovers

Director: Alexander Payne
Starring: Paul Giamatti, Dominic Sessa, Da'Vine Joy Randolph, Carrie Preston, Brady Hepner, Ian Dolley, Jim Kaplan, Michael Provost, Andrew Garman, Naheem Garcia, Stephen Thorne, Gillian Vigman, Tate Donovan, Darby Lily Lee-Stack
Running Time: 133 min.
Rating: R   

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Alexander Payne's The Holdovers evokes nostalgia for a time and place audiences needn't actually experience to appreciate, with a uniqueness that transcends its specific era, connecting in deeper ways. From the moment it opens with that classic Universal logo and retro title cards, you know you're in capable hands, with a story built around three abandoned but entirely relatable souls at a crossroads. Intimately conceived and constructed, the lack of huge surprises or earth shattering plot turns shouldn't trick anyone into underestimating what Payne accomplishes here, which is a whole lot.

In a welcome return to form, the director summons the tone and spirit of Hal Ashby to craft a humanistic character study with elements that may remind some of films like The Last Detail, The Paper Chase, Good Will Hunting and 2000's criminally underappreciated Wonder Boys. Reuniting with his Sideways star Paul Giamatti, Payne also captures the look and feel of the Christmas season better than any holiday set movie in years, with the actor playing a curmudgeonly character hamstrung by his own regrets and mistakes. It's the type of role he's perfected, getting a fresh spin with a witty, observant script by David Hemingson that carries all the freewheeling rhythms of a great undiscovered novel. 

It's December 1970 and Paul Hunham (Giamatti) is a strict, cranky history professor at Barton Academy boarding school in New England, where he once attended. Disliked by students and faculty for his tough grading and elitist attitude, he's roped into supervising the "holdover" students stuck on campus for the winter break, one of whom is 17-year-old Angus Tully (Dominic Sessa), a bright troublemaker whose mother left him to go on her honeymoon with his new stepfather. Joining Angus is obnoxious bully Teddy (Brady Hepner), Barton quarterback Jason (Michael Provost), son of Mormon missionaries, Alex (Ian Dolley) and Korean exchange student Ye-Joon (Jim Kaplan). 

Also staying behind with Hunham is head cook Mary Lamb (Da'Vine Joy Randolph), whose son, a former Barton student, was killed in Vietnam. But when an unexpected development alters Hunham's agenda, he finds himself stuck with a rebellious Angus, who pushes back against his disciplinary tactics. As the still grieving Mary slowly punctures holes in Hunham's gruff exterior, the three attempt to make the best of it, their misadventures leading them to learn as much about themselves as each other. 

The film's first section is its most comedic with Hunham treating these students' stay as an unofficial detention complete with designated study sessions, all the while ignoring they're already miserable enough spending the holiday apart from their families. Still looked down upon by the academy's headmaster (Andrew Garman) for refusing to pass a legacy student, only the school's sweet, peppy administrator Miss Crane (Carrie Preston) seems unbothered by Hunham's grouchiness or eccentric tendency to turn normal, everyday conversation into pretentious, navel gazing lectures.  

Of the many joys found in Giamatti's turn is how he subtly allows Hunham's sensitivity to seep through the sarcasm and snobbishness, signaling how most of his issues have little to do with these students, including the well connected one he failed for ethical reasons. To an extent this act reflects Hunham's decency and a desire to do the right thing, however warped his intentions come across to those who know him. An ivy league intellectual who's often right, he's always eager to rub that in, finding an ideal nemesis in the underachieving Angus, who carries some baggage of his own. 

In his feature debut, Sessa gives a breakthrough performance that gradually gathers steam as we realize the full extent of Angus's plight, which shatters Hunham's preconceived notions about this kid's supposedly charmed upbringing. He and Giamatti make for ideal sparring partners, their characters' shaky relationship growing even more interesting as they tear each other down, eventually reaching an impasse before meeting on a level neither expects. 

Da'Vine Joy Randolph is quietly devastating as Mary, this bereaved mother plowing through the pain with humor and honesty, determined not to look or be treated like a victim. Trying to play mediator while keeping it together, her eventual breakdown in a heart wrenching party scene is difficult to watch in the realest way. She also sees right through Hunham and his half baked dreams, recognizing he needs to cut these kids a break and get a life. Her sincere advice is so plain spoken even he can't help but begrudgingly respect it.  

Their stories converge on a road trip where Hunham comes face-to-face with past failures, Angus confronts the harsh reality of a family that doesn't want him and Mary tries to terms with her son's death. It could have come across as syrupy or clichéd, but Payne masterfully keeps everything moving breezily along, even during the heaviest stretches. The film ultimately comes down to a moral dilemma that sees Hunham weigh the cost of again sticking it to the man, potentially sacrificing himself for something greater. While none of their situations will magically improve overnight, we get the impression they've set themselves on a course where it could.

Describing this as a "70's comedy" isn't meant to merely time stamp the decade during which it's set. Payne goes much further than that, to the point you could really mistake it for a film made and released in that era. For this, credit should extend to the production and costume design teams, Eigil Bryld's cinematography and a carefully curated soundtrack that mixes popular Christmas music with lightening in a bottle hits from Badfinger, Paul Simon and Cat Stevens.  

The Holdovers gloriously captures that brief period when you encounter people who impact or alter the trajectory of your life in ways that aren't apparent until much later. It's smallish in scope, but never slight, marinating in the mind long after its credits roll, drawing you back to the memorable couple of weeks these three lonely people share. Sure to reverberate with each subsequent viewing, it should only gain in prominence and appreciation, carrying all the markers of a perennial holiday classic.

Jungle Cruise

Director: Juame Collet-Serra
Starring: Dwayne Johnson, Emily Blunt, Edgar Ramirez, Jack Whitehall, Jesse Plemons, Paul Giamatti
Running Time: 127 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)
 
It's hard not to have a conflicted internal dialogue regarding Dwayne Johnson's on-screen career, which seems to grow by leaps and bounds with each new release. In case you haven't heard, he gets paid a lot of money to star in some very big movies that make serious bank and audiences seem to really enjoy. While some are undeniably better than others, it wouldn't be irrational to categorize all of them as pure escapism or entertainment with a capital "E." And that's not a dig. His projects may have little sustaining nutritional value but he has the charismatic ability to basically pull off anything, making you wonder whether he should attempt some seriously challenging material instead of continuing to elevate lesser mainstream movies that more desperately need him.

Maybe that pivot will eventually come for Johnson, but for now we're kidding ourselves if we think he's going to stop making movies like Jungle Cruise. He knows his audience, cleverly blazing a career path even the biggest stars would be envious of. In other words, if it aint broke, don't fix it. For now. This one's more of the same and pretty disposable, sharing much in common with the Disney theme park attraction on which it's based, genuinely feeling like a movie adapted from a ride. It's occasionally funny, the performances are enjoyably hammy and there's a lot happening. In fact, so much is going on that for a while I actually just started to tune out, only making a rebound of sorts toward the final act. It's a mess, though not an agressively offensive one, improved greatly by two winning leads who deserve better, but remain undeniably great together. 

After a flashback to 1556 shows a Spanish conquistador-led trek to South America in search of the mystical Tears of the Moon healing tree, Dr. Lily Houghton's (Emily Blunt) research on it is presented by her brother MacGregor (Jack Whitehall) to the Royal Society of London in 1918. Despite the siblings' claims that the tree's healing flowers can revolutionize medicine and cure disease are met with skepticism and derision, Lily steals an arrowhead artifact she believes is key to discovering its whereabouts. With that and an ancient map in hand, Lily and MacGregor arrive in Brazil as she recruits cheap jungle cruise skipper Frank Wolff (Johnson) to take them down the Amazon. 

Upon stealing his boat back from his scuzzy boss Nilo Nemolato (Paul Giamatti) Frank heads down the river with the Houghtons, unaware they're being followed by a German sub commandeered by the conniving Prince Joachim (Jesse Plemons), who's desperately seeking the Tree for his own fame and fortune. With Lily unsure she can trust the cocky Frank, he views her as a humorless, pampered princess. Even if there's a lot more to both, they'll have little choice but to co-exist to survive this trip, if they want to reap the benefits of the elusive Tears of the Moon.

Sticking strictly to the Disney playbook, anyone expecting to be dazzled by plot twists and suprises or taken aback by its unexpected edginess will be disappointed. Co-writers Michael Green, Glenn Ficara and John Requa actually bring more narrative nuance to the brief flashbacks involving Frank's backstory and that of Edgar Ramirez's embattled Spanish conquistador than a lot of main arc involving the hunt for the Tree. Most of the mission revolves around slapstick silliness and the mustache-twirling Prince's cat-and-mouse game with the Houghtons and Frank. Thankfully, none of this is completely unbearable, in no small part due to the chemistry between Johnson and Blunt, with the former having some real fun with the character's one-liners and cheesy puns throughout. 

With Johnson's overconfident con man taking center stage, it's been somewhat overlooked just how good Blunt is opposite him, showcasing some excellent comedic timing and physical chops in over-the-top sight gags they could have easily fallen flat with less game actress in the part. If there's a drawback, it's that the pair bounce off each other so naturally that their relationship seems almost asexual, strangely lacking any romantic sparks to the point that they seem more like siblings than Blunt and Whitehall do. Of course, this doesn't entirely fall on them, as bringing heated chemistry to a family film based on a kids' park ride probably wasn't high on Disney's priority list, nor should it be. 

Plemons isn't exactly miscast in the Prince Joaquim role since he's played more than his fair share of villains, but it's still odd watching him play one this over-the-top. He's compulsively watchable in a scenery-chewing kind of way, occasionally making you wonder if he stepped in after Chistoph Waltz passed on what plays like one of his trademark parts. As a sidekick character, Jack Whitewall is more entertainingly endearing than you'd expect given MacGregor was probably intended as more of a one-dimensional, snobby irritant. 

The real star might be composer James Newton Howard's clever reworking of Metallica's "Nothing Else Matters" as the backdrop to what's by far the best sequence in the entire film, where Frank's origin story is revealed in full. Skillfully constructed, exciting and well shot, you'll wish the whole film were as absorbing as these five minutes, offering up substantial proof there was potential to be mined from at least part of this premise. And it's not that the rest looks bad per se, just very artificial and effects heavy. At certain points many shots have this enticing, picaresque quality to them, until you realize it only looks nice in the superficial way you'd expect to appreciate in a Thomas Kincaid painting. And the less said about Frank's pet tiger the better, as it's about time to call a moratorium on CGI animals if this is the best they can do.

The African Queen this isn't, but it doesn't need to be, even as it deliberately draws upon the 1951 film as a blueprint, along with some added inspiration from the Indiana Jones franchise (mostly Crystal Skull though). At just over two hours it isn't a total slog and reliable action director Juame Collet-Serra keeps the story moving at a fast enough clip that you can imagine families losing themselves in all the bells and whistles, as intended. But many more will have little difficulty filing Jungle Cruise under "not my thing," acknowledging its obvious strengths while recognizing it's nothing we haven't seen before.

Love and Mercy

Director: Bill Pohlad
Starring: John Cusack, Paul Dano, Elizabeth Banks, Paul Giamatti, Jake Abel, Bill Camp, Brett Davern, Kenny Wormald, Graham Rogers, Erin Darke
Running Time: 121 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

"Sad. Lonely. Terrified."  Those are the three words a middle-aged Brian Wilson scribbles on the back of his future wife's business card during their awkward first encounter in the 1980's. They can also best describe the troubled life of the legendary Beach Boys musician and songwriter, whose fascinating story somehow escaped a big screen treatment until now. It wasn't for a lack of trying, but rather waiting for the right director, script and actor to play him. While it may have taken decades for all the pieces to finally fall in place, the result is one of the more unconventional biopics in recent years, putting a laser-like focus on the two most pivotal eras of his life. It's sad, emotionally draining and insightful, confirming our suspicions that of all the music icons, living or deceased, his journey ranks among the most unique.

Had director Bill Pohlad gone the way of a traditional, straightforward biopic I wouldn't have complained and it still could have been one of the more satisfying moviegoing experiences of the year. Instead, he takes a huge gamble by splitting the story, practically begging viewers to draw comparisons and take sides in what would initially appear to be an unfair battle. There's no sense denying it's the 60's era Wilson everyone's most interested in and that on paper Paul Dano seems born to play the young Brian, joining an exclusive list of perfect casting decisions like Jesse Eisenberg as Mark Zuckerberg or Val Kilmer as Jim Morrison. He doesn't disappoint, exceeding already high expectations.

Given the chance to capture Wilson's essence and physical mannerisms, we already had an inkling of what the quirky, off-kilter Dano could possibly bring to the part, as well as the type of film we'd get. It was rashly assumed the 80's section of Wilson's story would be an afterthought, with the casting of John Cusack as the elder version being at best a head scratcher. At worst, most thought it could be a potential disaster, which is less an indictment on his acting abilities than a critique of his recent VOD-filled career trajectory (which has drawn understandable comparisons to Nicolas Cage) and lack of physical resemblance to the musician. Such a performance wouldn't seem to be in his wheelhouse, even with fingers crossed that he'd somehow pull it off. Well, he does. But the bigger surprise is how both eras exist on equal footing in terms of time, attention and creative quality. Neither would mean as much without the other, even as they still seem worlds apart.

It's the early 1960's and young songwriter Brian Wilson (Dano) is rapidly rising to fame with his band, The Beach Boys, consisting of cousin and co-founder Mike Love (Jake Abel), Al Jardine (Graham Rogers) and brothers Carl (Brett Davern) and Dennis Wilson (Kenny Wormald). With Brian's creative genius driving them in the studio, it isn't long before the band shoots to the top of the charts with massive hits like "Surfer Girl," "Little Deuce Coupe" and "Surfin' U.S.A."Getting the itch to take the group's sound in a more mature direction, Brian soon fires their father Murry (Bill Camp) as manager and sets out to abandon much of the fun surf rock that made them famous. He instead withdraws into the studio with the goal of creating the "the greatest album ever made."  The resulting Pet Sounds is a critically praised but commercially underperforming psychedelic concept album that splits the band apart, with Brian's grip on reality slipping as he's tormented by the voices in his head.

The parallel 1980's narrative focuses on a middle-aged Brian (Cusack), depressed and overmedicated under the tyrannic supervision of psychotherapist Dr. Eugene Landy. Misdiagnosed as a paranoid schizophrenic, he's held hostage in his own home and unable to go anywhere without being flanked by handlers, making every outing a major production for the fragile star. A trip to the Cadillac dealership leads to him meeting saleswoman Melinda Ledbetter (Elizabeth Banks), who's intrigued enough by his oddness to agree to a date. As their relationship grows and Brian becomes more independent, she realizes the dangerous extent of Dr. Landy's control over him, working tirelessly to get him away before he dies under this madman's care.

Both timelines, while wildly different in their aesthetics, are also eerily similar in how they fit in piecing together the complete picture of who Brian Wilson is as a person and musician. And that common thread is an abusive and overbearing father figure who Brian resents yet still can't help but try to please. In the 60's it was his father, who verbally and physically assaulted him and his brothers. Later, it's Landy who controls him with seemingly even more force. Based on what's shown, his father has a tin ear as a music producer, from being completely underwhelmed by "God Only Knows" to boldly declaring The Beach Boys won't be remembered in fifty years. Of course, this proves he probably would hated anything his son did, but boy do we ever see and hear what Brian does. And exactly how he does it.

From opening credits, the depiction of the band in their prime has an almost documentary-like approach that makes you feel as if you're watching archival footage rather than a merely respectful recreation of key events in group's early career. And while other musical biopics too often face roadblocks in obtaining music rights (see the recent Jimi: All Is by My Side), the band's best work is here incorporated masterfully onto the soundtrack and into the narrative itself. And in what has to be a first, we're granted seemingly unprecedented access into Brian's process in the studio, in particular how he created Pet Sounds and saw that vision through to the end while using extremely unconventional instrumentation and methods.

Pohlad spends a lot of quality time on the making of the actual music, unlike most biopics that only talk about how their subject is unique or even a "genius," as if expecting us to just take their word on it. This very specifically shows us why. Note for note. We also see how he comes up with "Good Vibrations," as a nearly dialogue-free sequence takes us from its gestation period with Brian just fooling around on the piano, all the way to it becoming the classic it's now regarded as.

Despite never appearing, The Beatles seem to be this omnipresent force bubbling just below the surface, with both bands competitively but healthily pushing and borrowing from each other to reach their creative peaks. With Wilson's new direction practically a direct response to the "British Invasion," you get the impression that maybe John Lennon understood what Wilson was going for better than his own father and bandmates. It's a nice angle to include and screenwriter Oren Moverman is smart enough to only lightly push it, letting viewers make of it what they may. It's just a beautiful thought to leave in our minds and one of many small details the script absolutely nails.

What's most interesting about Dano's performance is how it bleeds into the parallel story. You see shades of the naive, childlike soul who would overtake him in the 1980's with the only difference being that past Brian at least had the confidence to go in his own direction, regardless of whom it alienated. Dano's made a career of playing supporting oddballs with a good heart so the starring role of Wilson is a natural fit, even when putting the uncanny physical resemblance aside (which his reported thirty pound weight gain only enhances). He also gets the vocal down well enough for the real Brian to sign off on it, with Pohlad careful enough not to give him too much to do in that department. This works since performing was never Wilson's first love anyway, freeing the story up to focus more on his genius as a writer and producer.

Drugs use is talked about and even shown, but it's inclusion is more directly related to how it affected the music rather than Brian. It wasn't the root of his problems, at least until Dr. Landy got a hold of him over a decade later, as his pushing of prescription drugs cause a more severe form of chemical dependency that anything in the 60's. Giamatti is in full "pig vomit" mode here, only far scarier and menacing as he works under the guise of "rescuing" Brian from his three years spent bed ridden and depressed. If you thought Brian's dad was a pitiful, abusive record producer, all bets are off after seeing Landy screaming at the nearly comatose former Beach Boy hunched helplessly over his piano.

There's a squirm-worthy barbeque sequence where we first realize the true extent of Landy's power over Brian, who's essentially a prisoner at this point. This is the first time Elizabeth Banks has truly been tested in a major way dramatically and it's surprisingly just how strong a center to the story Melinda is, basically saving his life and breaking through the childlike shell to still see the brilliant, generous musician hiding underneath. She doesn't play her as a saint, but rather someone just tough and brave enough to face Landy head-on and win, even if it means the end of what's been a heavily supervised relationship with Brian.

Cusack has the tougher job since it could have been problematic picturing him as the musician to begin with, regardless of the age or time period (even if mid-eighties photos reveal it to be a closer match than you'd think). He bares even less of a resemblance to Dano, and yet that's hardly noteworthy since it's easy to believe this guy's been through enough that he wouldn't. He's also portraying someone even deeper in the throes of mental illness than his younger counterpart, but Cusack clears all these hurdles, transcending his subject to deliver something more substantial and fulfilling.

Besides getting the tics and mannerisms just right, Cusack creates an enduring, likable portrait of this sensitive man-child who just so happens to be Brian Wilson of The Beach Boys. Just his work opposite Banks in the opening scene at the dealership and when he's receiving Landy's constant psychological abuse represents the actor's best work in years, if not decades. For a story in which we know the general outcome, if not the specifics, he keeps us on the invested and on edge by showing us the most challenging side of Wilson to depict on screen: His days spent as a depressed, inactive spectator to his own life. And finally, Cusack gets a great role that shows us how good he is and still can be when given meaningful material.

Shattering preconceptions, Pohlad tells manages to create this complete portrait of Wilson out of two halves.  While the 60's portion containing more nuance and detail than we ever expected, the 80's section manages to hold us completely captive, shining a previously unseen spotlight on Wilson's darkest period. Both tragic and triumphant, it's less a biopic than a hazy, surreal journey through the psyche of one of our most brilliant, tortured artists. There's a sequence toward the end that's a real head trip, converging Brian's life into a series of influential people standing bedside as he slowly awakens from what's been his long, painful nightmare. It gives the song "In My Room" a whole new meaning and makes us wonder what the real Brian Wilson must be thinking while watching this.  

Parkland

Director: Peter Landesman
Starring: Zac Efron, Marcia Gay Harden, Billy Bob Thornton, Jacki Weaver, Paul Giamatti, James Badge Dale, Ron Livingston, David Harbour, Tom Welling, Jeremy Strong, Mark Duplass, Gil Bellows, Colin Hanks, Jackie Earle Haley
Running Time: 93 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)
  
In the midst of the media coverage surrounding the half-century anniversary of the Kennedy assassination, I caught this news program that talked about how miraculous it was that Abraham Zapruder was able to keep his 8mm camera steady on the President's limo for over 26 seconds when the shots rang out. It was one of those facts I always knew was amazing but never seriously contemplated. How did he do that? And why isn't it a bigger story? Writer/director Peter Landesman's Parkland is all about details just like that. Details that have unfortunately been tossed aside in favor of speculating on a myriad of unproven conspiracy theories for the past few decades. This is finally the movie about everything else. The really important stuff no one focuses on, which only makes it that much more frustrating that critics have so casually dismissed it.

In recounting the surreal and chaotic events that took place in Dallas following the assassination, the biggest worry was that this could become another Bobby, Emilio Estevez's overtstuffed historical ensemble piece that turned RFK's killing into a goofy game of "spot the star," as an impressive cast participated in what merely amounted to a large-scale soap opera. There's none of that here, as a similarly stacked ensemble is comprised mostly of character actors who slide invisibly into their roles in a manner similar to real life people they've been chosen to portray. It's as if Landesman knows this is a topic that's been explored to death on film and TV, but usually in the most obvious and uninteresting ways possible. He responds with a take that's legitimately different, gripping and informative. That the most powerful story and performance rests in the hands of a lesser known actor playing a person few know even existed, speaks volumes.

Based on Vincent Bugliosi's book, "Reclaiming History: The Assassination of President John F. Kennedy," the movie depicts the events of November 22, 1963 from a number of perspectives. The doctors and nurses at Parkland Memorial Hospital who tended to the fatally wounded President. Secret Service chief Forrest Sorrels (Billy Bob Thornton). JFK's security detail. The FBI. Lee Harvey Oswald's guilt-ridden brother Robert (James Badge Dale). And of course Dallas-based clothing manufacturer Abraham Zapruder (Paul Giamatti), who was at Dealey Plaza unwittingly capturing the entire horrific event on film with his home movie camera. With a sweep this broad and the story examined from so many angles, there was a real risk of this being an unfocused mess, but those fears are put to rest with an opening half-hour that generates an almost nauseating level of suspense while visualizing disturbing details we've only heard about the shooting's immediate aftermath. And many we haven't.

Much of the action occurs in the Parkland where Kennedy arrives without a pulse or breathe sounds, but a weak heartbeat. Describing him as barely "alive," upon arrival would be using the loosest possible definition of the word, but first-year surgical resident Dr. Jim Carrico, almost by chance, is handed the unenviable duty of resucitating him. Joining him is head nurse Doris Nelson (Marcia Gay Harden) and eventually Dr. Malcolm Perry (Colin Hanks). Carrico's played by Zac Efron, subverting expectations by not only disappearing into the part, but doing surprisingly well in an emotionally gut-wrenching sequence. The look on his face when he realizes who's been brought in and what happened is priceless. I'd say it's the moment of the movie, if not for the five or six other ones that could reasonably compete with it.

Seamlessly incorporating actual news footage within the film, the events of the day are so detailed and chaotic it almost feels as if this is a handheld docudrama unfolding in real time, taking us along for the ride while managing to somehow sidestep tired recreations of famous scenes. The approach  even extends to the depictions of JFK (Brett Stimely) and Jackie (Kat Steffens), whose faces are covered through much of the proceedings. Until they're not. Jackie obviously has more to do, but Landesman wisely casts a complete unknown, sparing her any added pressure as she grieves on the sidelines, rarely taking center stage. This is more frightening because it reflects the First Lady's marginalization by the Secret Service as they switch their allegiance to new President, Lyndon Johnson (Sean McGraw), who was, by all accounts--no matter your opinion of him politically-- a class act in the days immediately following the tragedy.

The President's story, and the country's, is told through these seemingly ordinary people in Dallas, at times playing as if it were an post-assassination procedural, illuminating under-reported facts. Like Robert Oswald's quite, ashamed belief in his brother's guilt the very minute he hears the news of his arrest. Torn between Lee's actions and their lunatic mother Marguerite (Jacki Weaver) looking to cash in, an Oscar-worthy James Badge Dale does the unthinkable in actually earning sympathy for a family member of Lee Harvey Oswald. His inability to obtain a proper burial for the man who killed the President is understandable, but not as understandable as no one willing to provide one. When Robert comes face-to-face with his emotionless brother, he sees what we do: a monster. Besides baring a shocking physical resemblance to Oswald, actor Jeremy Strong's speech pattern and mannerisms are so frighteningly accurate that it comes as a relief only a single scene is spent with him. Any more would probably be too sickening to take. 

Just about the only character as guilt ridden as Oswald's brother is Zapruder, played by an unsurprisingly terrific Paul Giamatti. Burdened with footage he never wanted, we finally get an inside look into how and where that 8 mm film developed and the ensuing negotiation with Life magazine for it's release to the public. While it may be hard to classify anyone as a "hero" under circumstances like this, Zapruder definitely comes closest, and Giamatti navigates the Dallas business owner's battle to rid himself of the footage while still insuring the Kennedys aren't exploited. As it turns out, the right magazine got it, and when it was time to publish the pictures, they did it the right way. And years later, when it was time to let the footage go, they managed to take the high road again. We wouldn't have been so lucky today. One of the most shattering scenes is when we finally get to view Zapruder's famous home movie along with him, reflected through the eyes of the man who filmed it.

Guilt and responsibility is what ties all these characters together. For Secret Service head Sorrels, played by Billy Bob Thornton, it's the realization that the President was lost on his watch. For FBI agent James Hosty (Ron Livingston) it's the lost opportunity of having Oswald in his office and leaving threatening notes just weeks before the assassination. It's a nearly unrecognizable Tom Welling as Secret Service agent Roy Kellerman, trying to drag Kennedy's corpse out of Parkland against the medical examiner's wishes to perform an immediate autopsy. What's fascinating about the scene is how Kellerman seems like the hero protecting the Kennedy family while the medical examiner comes off as a clueless twit. History would prove who the real twit was. The body should have stayed in Dallas. And how about the Secret Service barely being able to fit the casket on the plane. It would be unbelievable if it wasn't all completely true, making this the only movie about this tragedy that should probably come with an accompanying spoiler warnings.

While recognizing anyone's interest in Parkland goes only as far as their interest in the actual event and I was easy to please, this is a topic that's been poorly handled. The most recent hatchet job being the Killing Kennedy TV movie, which depicted the tragedy as a cross between an unfunny SNL skit and a cheap crime show reenactment. 2011's superb The Kennedys miniseries came closest to doing the tragedy justice, while still serving as only part of a much larger story. Oliver Stone's JFK is undeniably masterful filmmaking, but it's not about the actual assassination so much as our theories about the potential conspiracies surrounding it, which look less believable by the day due to the lack of any concrete evidence. Our desire to keep looking stems mostly from the refusal to associate such a pivotal event with a nobody like Oswald. But conspiracies are boring compared to the actual truth surrounding ordinary people who had to react to an extraordinary event they were unprepared to be a part of. But calling this the best film made yet about the Kennedy assassination isn't completely accurate. So far, it's the only film that's actually been made about it.

Rock of Ages

Director: Adam Shankman
Starring: Julianne Hough, Diego Boneta, Tom Cruise, Russell Brand, Paul Giamatti, Catherine Zeta-Jones, Malin Akerman, Mary J. Blige, Alec Baldwin, Bryan Cranston
Running Time: 123 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★ (out of ★★★★)

In the opening scene of Rock of Ages, "small town girl" Sherrie Christian (Julianne Hough) is traveling on a bus to L.A. with a suitcase full of records with big dreams of becoming a famous singer. It's 1987. And you'll never guess which classic 80's power ballad's piano riff start to play. Yes, it's Night Ranger's "Sister Christian." The song, rescued from relative obscurity by director Paul Thomas Anderson in 1997's Boogie Nights, resulting in one of cinema's most memorable musical moments, and making a previously cheesy song all of the sudden seem exceptionally cool. The exact opposite happens in this painful sequence where an entire busload of passengers and their driver awkwardly join Sherrie in a sing-a-long of it that plays like a poor man's version of the Almost Famous "Tiny Dancer" bus scene. And for a few brief minutes we're reminded again why we all thought "Sister Christian" was so corny to begin with and why it should be illegal for it to accompany any scene not involving a coked-out, gun-toting Alfred Molina and firecrackers. I'll probably need about a dozen viewings of that sequence just to cleanse myself of the song's silly cameo in this.  

Of all the problems with this limp effort, that opening scene symbolizes its biggest. The movie isn't just unfunny, poorly paced and performed, but seems to have genuine disdain for its audience and the musical era it's supposedly celebrating. We'd be kidding ourselves by not admitting that the 80's had some awful music ripe for parody, but it's certainly not THIS bad. Maybe it was unintentional, but because the comedy doesn't work and the tone is off, I came away believing those involved in the making of this musical have very little affection for the music. There's even less respect for the plot and characters, both of which exist only as an excuse to cram in as many tunes as possible into a two hour film. There's medley after medley, as "Sister Christian" leads into "Just Like Paradise" and "Nothin' But a Good Time" as Sherrie meets Bourbon Room barkeep Drew Boley (Diego Boneta), also an aspiring singer, who convinces the club's owner Dennis Dupree (a mulleted Alec Baldwin) to hire her as a waitress. With the club deep in debt and its future uncertain, Dupree along with his assistant and eventual lover Lonny (Russell Brand) find a potential solution to their financial woes by enticing aging, hedonistic Arsenal frontman Stacee Jaxx (Tom Cruise) to play at the Bourbon. It's a gig his manager Paul Gill (Paul Giamatti) hopes will ignite his client's fledgling solo career. He also sees potential in Drew, whose rise up the rock ranks causes a major rift between he and Sherrie.

None of these stories work because director Adam Shankman doesn't seem to care if they do, using them only as vehicles for abominable cover songs that bare little resemblance to what's actually happening on screen. But the most inexplicable sub-plot comes in the form of the Mayor's wife leading a religious crusade against the evils of rock, despite the entire music scene and time period being presented as nothing but squeeky clean and G-rated. And you've never seen anything quite like an angry Catherine Zeta-Jones dancing atrociously in a church singing "Hit Me With Your Best Shot" while Bryan Cranston's Mayor Whitmore is tied up and spanked by his mistress, confirming that the wait for those final Breaking Bad episodes just might be more excruciating than we thought. Even the one thing everyone seemed to agree works, Cruise's performance as Stacee Jaxx, strangely didn't connect for me all the way because it's just too obviously inauthentic and calculated. He often comes off as Tom Cruise playing Tom Cruise playing a washed-up rock legend in a storyline that seems more designed as career rejuvenation for the actor rather than the fabricated musician. It's essentially a extended celebrity cameo. When he's interviewed by Malin Akerman's mousy Rolling Stone reporter for what's supposed to be 8 minutes, it feels more like 8 hours because the entire sequence goes nowhere with roundabout questions, awkward silences and mumbling.

Sandwiched in between the never ending interview is Cruise covering Bon Jovi and Foreigner and doing surprisingly okay. His voice doesn't have much character and isn't particularly strong, but he gets the job done just fine. The same could be said for everyone else in the cast, with the obvious exception of Mary J. Blige who clearly the pipes to sing the hell out of these songs and does. It's mostly true that Cruise is the best thing in this, but but there isn't a moment where you're unaware he's giving a performance. Julianne Hough, previously so delightful in last year's Footloose remake, has all the air sucked out of her in this, doing what she can to rescue a thankless character whose voice seems too chirpy to be signing 80's hair metal. As the lead, it's to her credit that she somehow comes out of this unscathed, and maybe also to Diego Boneto, who's so bland and lifeless opposite her that I sometimes forgot he was even in the movie at all. But it was great to see a Tower Records store again, even if they never actually sold guitars. I liked that the filmmakers thought they did.

Musicals aren't supposed to be boring. Worse yet, the 80's music scene was gritty and over-the-top but the film goes out of its way to be anything but, playing it safe and never straying outside the lines. Shankman's right that this material can only be treated as goofy comedy but at many points I was confused as to what we were supposed to find funny, or whether it was unintentional or not. At other even less successful points, it plays like a depressing drama. This had all the ingredients to be successful, but this seems like another case of the stage production being transposed to the screen without the adjustments to make it seem cinematic in any way other than adding movie stars. It doesn't look or feel like the 80's and the streets don't even look like streets, but sets. In this way it resembles the almost equally unsuccessful adaptation of Rent, which was at least somewhat saved by an engaging (if dated) story to fall back on.

In the best musicals, the music informs and mirrors the script, almost as if it's organically sprung from it. This is just song after song after song with no breathing room for the story or characters. If there's a silver lining it's that it's easy envisioning Rock of Ages evolving into some kind of cult guilty pleasure like Xanadu or Grease 2 with moviegoers at midnight showings dressed in 80's clothes and throwing things at the screen. It has that same fascinatingly awful quality and evokes a "What Did I Just Watch?" reaction that kind of makes you want to experience it again just to confirm the ridiculousness. If only it were more fun. That I could still easily re-watch it may reveal more about my affinity for the era and its music than anything else. But at least that's something. Audiences probably wanted to love this too, but the movie just seems too embarrassed with itself and the music to truly let them in.

The Ides of March

Director: George Clooney
Starring: Ryan Gosling, George Clooney, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Paul Giamatti, Marisa Tomei, Jeffrey Wright, Evan Rachel Wood
Running Time: 101 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)
 
Is there any better casting than George Clooney playing a liberal Presidential candidate? If the actor ran right now he'd probably win and you'd have problems convincing me he'd be any worse a choice than the other available options. Having also wrote and directed the timely political thriller The Ides of March, he knew the right role to give himself. As expected, he smoothly plays Pennsylvania Governor Mike Morris like it's effortless. But the film's not about him. At least not completely. It's about his press secretary Stephen Meyers (Ryan Gosling), who starts off as an idealist and ends up as someone else entirely. We kind of know that's where we're going but the real thrill is in how Clooney's airtight script and precise direction masterfully turn the screws to take us there. It's a step-by-step examination of how someone becomes corrupted and why our political system is so broken. It's a stretch, but not unrealistic, and I believed if something like this were to go down, this is how it would and these are the kind of bad decisions people make that allow it to happen.

Two such decisions send the story spiraling out of control and they're easy to justify because the characters making them are smart. The first starts with Gosling's Stephen receiving a phone call from rival Presidential campaign manager Tom Duffy (Paul Giamatti) trying to woo him over to their side. And for good reason. He's the best. It's a tempting offer since Morris' Presidential campaign is struggling and they're about to lose Ohio. An Obama-like idealist to his core (or so it seems at first), Morris refuses to compromise his beliefs to get elected, which makes one wonder how he got into politics at all. Topping the list is his refusal to court the potentially election-clinching endorsement of Sen. Thompson (Jeffrey Wright), which does come at a price. Stephen's on a sinking ship and knows it but his loyalty to Morris and senior campaign manager Paul Zara (Philip Seymour Hoffman) won't let him jump. But the opposition's interest in him is undeniably flattering, resulting in a fleeting moment of weakness that has disastrous consequences.

The second mistake involves a young, connected intern named Molly (Evan Rachel Wood) with whom Stephen becomes romantically involved. Only that's not the mistake. It's unwise, but the real mistake is hers. And it's a doozy. From there, the plot, with all its twists and turns, unravels and a reporter (Marisa Tomei) threatens to bust it wide open in a welcome return to the days in movies where journalists wielded considerable power. At one point Giamatti's character states that the problem with Democrats is their refusal to be like Republicans. They won't get down in the dirt and sling mud. But corruption crosses party lines.

A while back Clooney revealed his 100 favorite movies and now he's directed one that's an interesting companion piece to that list, recalling similarly themed political/conspiracy thrillers of the '70's like The Parallax View and All The President's Men. It's not surprising a smart, engaging film for adults would underperform at the box office right now, but that critics would use it as a punching bag is, with more than a few disparagingly referring to it as a glorified TV movie. I don't get that at all, even if it may be more a compliment considering the healthy creative state of television these days. It could be because it covers a topic that's often explored on the small screen or that the revelations in the film aren't shocking per se (though one did blow me out of my seat), but instead meticulously constructed and executed, like a chess game with its pieces moving across the board. And all the players are perfectly utilized.

Given the banner year each had it's no surprise Gosling facing off against Clooney on screen yielded such successful results, making Gosling worthy of competing against himself for a Best Actor Oscar if that were allowable (and now I'm thinking it should). In a way what he does here is similar but completely different to his more muted, intense performance in Drive in that he's playing a cool, calculated character suddenly rattled threatened by circumstances exceeding his grasp. It's a difficult role, but he expertly sells the tricky transformation from idealist to cynic. Giamatti and Hoffman are two of our finest contemporary actors, but they could have easily been marginalized in an ensemble like this. Neither are, with each at the top of their games making essential supporting contributions on which the entire foundation of the story rests. Evan Rachel Wood is tragically tremendous as the doomed intern in way over her head.     

I'll admit to laughing a little when Clooney's script (adapted from Beau Willimon's 2008 play Farragut North) was nominated for Best Adapted screenplay thinking it was just another way for the Academy to pat their favorite movie star on the back. But he deserves the praise, streamlining a complicated narrative into a clean, concise cinematic experience free of any excess fat. Technically speaking, it's perfect. Consider it the Michael Clayton of political thrillers, right down to its chilling final image. If that film marked the turning point for Clooney as an actor then this is his as a director, easily surpassing all his three previous efforts behind the camera which were solid, but dry. There's nothing dry or slight about this. Here's a movie with something important to say. The political system may be broken but those engulfed in it should look no further than the mirror to determine what's most in need of fixing.

Duplicity

Director: Tony Gilroy
Starring: Clive Owen, Julia Roberts, Tom Wilkinson, Paul Giamatti
Rating: PG-13
Running Time: 125 min.

★★ (out of ★★★★)

Considering the talent involved in the making of it, Duplicity is a shockingly dumb film. And it's the worst kind of dumb film in that it delusionally thinks it's intelligent. Worse yet, it conveys an attitude of smug self-importance. Almost as if we should be honored to watch two big stars play unlikable characters bickering endlessly about the same issue for over two hours in a needlessly convoluted plot. The movie just spins its wheels telling two converging stories (one personal the other professional) ineffectively. As if that's not bad enough, writer/director Tony Gilroy, in his highly anticipated follow-up to 2008 Best Picture nominee Michael Clayton, actually has the nerve to not deliver on anything he promises, defeating the purpose of the entire film.

Usually, when a movie doesn't work there are at least some things in it that make me feel like I at least haven't totally wasted my time. This is different. Here, there are so many pointless (and often predictable) red herrings that the film seems to be setting itself up to fail unless it can deliver on any of it. That would be tolerable if Gilroy presented this as what it should be (a slick 90-minute crime caper). Instead, he attempts to merge an old fashioned Hollywood screwball comedy, an espionage thriller and an epic romance.

The result is a bloated, self-indulgent vanity project made so its writer can pat himself on the back for writing cool, slick dialogue and to remind us what wonderful stars (notice I said "stars," not "actors") Clive Owen and Julia Roberts are. The sad thing is that they are exceptional actors, but this isn't designed to take advantage of that. It feels like one of those Ocean's movies and if you replaced Owen with Clooney it would be. Is it December yet? This is the kind of film that usually rolls into theaters during Awards season so voters over the age of 70 can cast their votes for safe, inoffensive material starring big names. At least Michael Clayton was exciting...and didn't have a stick up its ass.

The movie opens five years ago in Rome when MI-6 agent Ray Koval (Owen) has a one-night stand with CIA operative Claire Stenwick (Roberts) in which he wakes up the next morning having been drugged and outplayed. Their paths cross again as we cut to present-day New York and both are now working as spies for two rival pharmaceutical companies. Ray is a corporate spy for Equikrom, led by its unpredictable CEO Dick Garsik (Paul Giamatti), while Claire is the head of security for Burkett & Randle, whose CEO Howard Tully (Tom Wilkinson), is sitting on a huge secret that could change lives. Despite their opposing allegiances and a complete mistrust of one another, Ray and Claire make a pact to go into business together in the private sector, a decision primarily based on mutual physical attraction and the potential monetary benefits. What unfolds next is a series of double-crosses, fake double-crosses and twists all built around whether Ray and Claire can trust one other and which side each is actually on. Are their feelings for each other real or is it part of the con? That question grows tiresome when its repeated in scene after scene and situation after situation for 125 minutes. Anyone expecting a big payoff to this elaborate, overwritten and labor-filled set-up will be greatly disappointed.

Owen and Roberts are charismatic and likable leads who share a breezy chemistry. So the movie coasts on it, offering little more. We know from the beginning that Ray and Claire can't trust each other and there's no reason why they should considering both are spies. It's up to Gilroy to sell us on their potential romance, which is difficult because the two characters can't stand one another and continuously throw cranky fits. When they're not doing that they're busy congratulating themselves for delivering cleverly written dialogue that feels and sounds like cleverly written dialogue. Their exchanges are too snappy and movie-like, to the point that they draw more attention to the writer than the actors actually delivering the lines. And it always seems like lines are literally being "delivered." As are the all-too complicated details of the plot, which at times are impossible to follow, even though the story is as simple as can be.

It's tough to pick what Gilroy falters worse with; his tale of corporate espionage in which he can't decide whether this is a farce (Duplicity!) or a dead-serious Hitchcockian thriller or the would-be romance between two lying spies who hate each other which means they really love each other. My vote goes to the espionage portion if only because he makes the screenwriting mistake of introducing a huge SECRET (the contents of which the two companies are battling over), only to reveal it as a huge letdown. It was supposed to be humorous...I think. You can never tell with the film's uneven tone. Gilroy was trying to make about three movies at once and his "twist ending" wasn't just obvious, it was pointless and if you think back on the whole thing, at the end every character is essentially exactly where they started off. Nothing happened.

I don't know what's going on with Owen. After a promising career start he's really found himself in a rut, also starring in this year's equally awful espionage thriller, The International. Here he's playing the familiar role he seems to have mastered lately...himself. Roberts fares much better if only because she's at least cast against type (as she was opposite Owen in 2004's Closer), even if her character is too bitchy and uninteresting for us to care much at all what happens to her. To Roberts' credit though, as she pushes past forty she's much more believable now as a sexy spy than she would have been in her supposed prime. Unlike Owen, she escapes this disaster completely unscathed and reminds us that she's capable of more than she's often given credit for. Wilkinson and Giamatti unsurprisingly impress with what limited screen time they have as the movie definitely could have used more of them. Wilkinson, such an integral part of Clayton's success, is criminally underutilized, hardly appearing at all. The entire film would have been better off if it were just about those two.

Gas is expensive. Movie tickets are expensive. So is soda and popcorn. Paying actors' salaries and promoting a movie is even more expensive. Too much of everyone's money is at stake to deliver a film that accomplishes nothing other than entertaining the director and actors who made it. The leads are appealing, the scenic locales look good and I'm glad everyone seemed to have had a nice time. Now they all should get back to business. Luckily, audiences knew enough to stay away from this and it was released at a time when intelligent adult dramas are bombing left and right. The biggest trick Duplicity attempts is trying to convince us it is one.

Shoot 'Em Up

Director: Michael Davis
Starring: Clive Owen, Paul Giamatti, Monica Belucci, Stephen McHattie
Running Time: 86 min.
Rating: R

**** (out of ****)

Whenever I review a film I ask myself one question first: DOES IT SUCCEED IN WHAT IT'S TRYING TO DO? For those perplexed by the star rating you see above I'd like to refer you back to that question. I am aware that Shoot 'Em Up is the most polarizing film of 2007 and I'm sure there are more than quite a few readers who would like to reach their hands through the computer screen and strangle me right now. But even those who absolutely despise the film can't argue that for what it is it's flawless. You may hate it, but you know it really gets the job done. It's the most appropriately titled film of the year and just seeing the title you probably know whether you're the type of person who would enjoy it. Who says there's no truth in advertising?

This is an overindulgent exercise in fearless, guerilla cinema and a glimpse into what happens when a studio takes off the handcuffs and removes any obstacles that could possibly make a movie not work. Everyone has free reigns and you almost feel guilty watching two actors of this high a caliber having so much damn fun. It's as if someone took Clive Owen's character from Children of Men and inserted him into Smokin' Aces, turning up the volume to the maximum degree.

The film is 86 minutes but it feels more like 6. It's so slickly edited and masterfully directed that excitement engulfs the screen in every single frame and not a moment drags. It may be the quickest movie I ever sat through and cinematic equivalent of injecting yourself with pure sugar. It's a crying shame that most actually took the film at face value and missed the funniest spoof of the action genre in years. Only it's smarter and more exciting than any of the John Woo films it's spoofing and could work not only as the best action movie of the year, but the best comedy. I was laughing so hard I was literally crying. It's pure joy from start to finish.

Opponents of this film have argued that if you took away the spectacular action sequences and the ballet of bullets that fill its running time you'd be left with nothing. Of course you would. That's the point. Let's be honest here: You don't go into a movie called Shoot 'Em Up expecting a deep meditation on life. But you know what? The plot is actually very good, the dialogue is sharp and there are some surprises. The movie opens with the mysterious and grumpy Mr. Smith (Owen) sitting on a park bench sipping his coffee and eating his carrot when he's unwillingly thrust into a dangerous situation involving a hitman known as Hertz (Paul Giamatti) and the pregnant woman he's after.

The movie gets down to business right away without pausing so much as a second to introduce any characters or take a breather. The level of forward moving momentum the story has is unmatched, which is well established in just the opening seconds. After delivering the woman's baby amidst a hail of bullets Smith is left to care for the infant that Hertz so desperately wants to get his hands on for a reason that will soon become very clear. The loner Smith calls upon the only help he knows, a lactating hooker (Monica Belucci) who he hopes can look after the child. With the determined Hertz and his henchmen on their tale things don't exactly work out as planned and what unfolds are some of the craziest, hilarious and memorable shoot-outs you'll ever see.

I love it when a movie shows me things I've never seen before and the action scenes in this film had me jumping up and down on my couch screaming. This Smith guy sure knows how to handle a firearm as he's able to shoot anything and anyone from some absolutely insane angles. I've actually heard some criticize this movie because the action is "implausible." Again... that's the point. Smith pulls a brilliant trick out of his hat involving a car windshield that just left me with my mouth wide open. Just when you think this guy can't possibly get out of a situation he'll pull off something else you haven't seen before.

It's really sick how many endlessly creative and inventive ways he finds to shoot people and director Michael Davis films it as if it's poetry in motion. And I haven't even mentioned the baby. He does most of this while carrying "it," as he so lovingly refers to the little one. As if the scenes weren't hilarious enough already. And the movie is smart too. Smart enough to cut to reaction shots of the baby as all this is happening. Smart enough to have the characters make little life observations like Smith complaining about how rich people drive or Hertz lamenting about his marital problems. Hertz's interaction and ribbing of his henchmen is classic. As clever as Smith is, Hertz is always right there along with him being the rare villain in this kind of movie who makes smart decisions. The cat-and-mouse game between them feels epic and losing isn't an option. It's just not in their nature. The movie doesn't let up even in its final minutes, ending in a parade of gunfire.

Usually after an actor is nominated for or wins an Academy Award their career can go in one of two directions. It can go the way of someone like Cate Blanchett, who's used it as a springboard to even more prestigious, Oscar-worthy roles, or it can go the direction of Nicolas Cage, who's used it to earn bigger paydays with mainstream blockbusters. But then I remembered… Clive Owen and Paul Giamatti have never won Academy Awards. Both have been nominated in the supporting actor category (for Closer and Cinderella Man, respectively) but lost. But it does sure seem like, based on their resumes, both should have Oscars by now.

Their names on the movie poster mean you're almost always getting something of high-class quality. Watching both of them together in this is a rare treat and is the equivalent of Tom Hanks and Phillip Seymour Hoffman headlining Saw V. It's ironic then that while they're supposedly "lowering" themselves in mainstream fare, Owen and Giamatti deliver two of their most entertaining performances. For some reason Owen gets some flack for playing the same role (that of Clive Owen) over and over again, but why complain when he does it so well? There's a scene in the film where we finally find out details of Mr. Smith's past and when we hear them it isn't anything we didn't already know. That's because we could read those details ON OWEN'S FACE AND THEY WERE PRESENT IN THE PERFORMANCE from the very beginning.

Giamatti doesn't look at all like your typical hitman, but that just enhances the mesmerizing, scene-devouring power of the performance. But the real joy of it is how despite being a sick, sadistic bastard he still gives off the vibe that this character would be a cool guy to go out and have a beer with. I was always a fan of Giamatti but this performance only increases my appreciation of his skills ten-fold. Who knew he had this in him? It was so much fun watching him let go, having such a good of a time. Forget about Sideways, he deserves a nomination... FOR THIS! I wouldn't mind seeing him tackle similar roles in the future provided he doesn't start abusing the privilege like Cage has. Monica Belucci plays the least important role in the film, but she does a fine job. She has a massive, drooling fan base and even they're given a special treat in this film. The movie has it all: Sex, violence, and, in one memorable instance, both simultaneously in the same scene. And it isn't hiding behind fancy airs or pretending to be something it's not. This is just balls-to-the-wall non-stop excitement.

Having never heard of the film's director, I looked him up and discovered that Michael Davis did direct another movie I liked, 2000's little-seen romantic comedy 100 Girls. This is about as far from that film as you can get. You may as well call this 100,000 Bullets. But I do think it says something that he's a director capable of making two such radically disparate films. How many filmmakers can claim to have two good titles in complete opposite genres on their resume? This guy is definitely someone to watch. I'm aware that I may take some heat for praising this when I bashed 300 but that film actually had the nerve to pretend it was something of substance when it was just a robotic videogame of killings. This is inventive, purposeful filmmaking. I'm not mystified why such a risk-taking film would show up on a lot of lists of the years worst. It'll probably be showing up on a list of mine too, just not that one.

Anyone who hates it owes me no explanation. I get it. It isn't for everyone. But so many movies these days are afraid to go all the way. This one pushes the envelope and just when you think it can't push it any more it goes even further. My only regret about the film was that I had a free pass to see it in theaters, but didn't. I'm sure it would have been twice as enjoyable on the big screen. It joins Crank as one of the best adrenaline fueled action rushes of recent years. If you loved that movie, you'll love this. Even if I'm afraid to know what it says about me that I enjoyed it this much.

The Illusionist

Director: Neil Burger
Starring: Edward Norton, Jessica Biel, Paul Giamatti, Rufus Sewell
Running Time: 110 min.
Rating: PG-13

*** (out of ****)

Some people don't like surprises. They don't like to be tricked and prefer everything laid out for them in a nice, logical, orderly fashion. If you think about it that makes perfect sense because when we're surprised we lose control. No one likes to lose control. This conceit is at the center of Neil Burger's The Illusionist, an often fascinating film based loosely on Steven Millhauser's short story "Eisenheim The Illusionist" about a magician in turn-of-the-century Vienna who finds himself the target of an evil Crown Prince and the city's corrupt Chief Inspector who are both eager to shut down his act, partly out of vengeance, but mostly out of jealousy and stupidity. The movie doesn't break any new ground and is actually pretty workmanlike in how it unfolds, but it does give you the chance to witness one of the best actors of our generation at the top of his game and marks the arrival of an actress who's now worth keeping an eye on for more than how she looks in tight jeans and a tank top.

Edward Norton plays Eisenheim, who as child falls in love with Sophie (Jessica Biel), a dutchess far above his social standing. When she's forbidden to see him, Eisenheim flees and travels the world perfecting his magic. He returns fifteen years later a magician and master illusionist, only to discover Sophie is now engaged to marry Crown Prince Leopold (a frightening Rufus Sewell). With Chief Inspector Uhl (Paul Giamatti in a return to form after the disasterous Lady in the Water) on Lepold's payroll they soon discover the past relationship between Eisenheim and Sophie, threatening to end his magic for good by exposing his secrets.

Meanwhile, the former lovers pick up where they left off rekindling their relationship as Sophie plans to leave the diabolical Leopold. All these elements explode in a brutal crime that pushes the story forward with a few twists and turns, some expected, some not. The Illusionist often seems to be more than what it is and that's in no small part due to the performances and the conviction writer/director Neil Burger brings to the story. Having not read the short story from which this is based I'm guessing a lot was added by him. He also shoots the film in an interesting way, giving it a kind of washed-out old fashioned look that compliments the era and setting nicely.

This is Burger's second directorial feature after 2003's incredible fake documentary, Interview With The Assassin, which hypothesizes an interview with the second gunman in the Kennedy assassination. I urge anyone who hasn't seen that film to do so immediately as it's bold picture driven by a premise as innovative as any I've seen in any film in a long time. The Illusionist, like that film, has a twist at the end that I obviously won't give away, but I will say it's definitely not impossible to see coming if you remember what this movie, at its core, is actually about.

Lately magic has made excellent fodder for movie material and it's not hard to see why, as it definitely lends itself to twists, secrets and reveals that go hand in hand with experience we all want to have when we see a film. It presents the opportunity for the filmmaker to use his own sleight of hand to trick the audience and take them for a ride. Supposedly top illusionists were consulted for the film and all the tricks do look real and authentic, adding to the effectiveness of the story. They even revealed the secret to one very common magic trick, which makes us all feel like idiots for not knowing how it was done. For once during the film, I could empathize with the Crown Prince.

It's getting a bit redundant these days to praise Edward Norton as an actor, but I'd be remiss if I didn't do it again here. I don't think there's a role this man is not capable of playing and he may be the best working actor today without an Oscar on his mantle. While this isn't his best performance, it's a strong one as he effortlessly slides into this role making you care about Eisenheim and his fate. I really liked what Paul Giamatti does as Uhl because he gives you the impression that even though his mission is to destroy and discredit Eisenheim, he slowly develops a fascination and respect for the man as his investigation escalates. He's corrupt, but he's a good soul who knows what he's doing is wrong. The question becomes whether his ambition or conscience will win out.

It's a treat watching two pros like Norton and Giamatti go at it. The real surprise in this movie is Jessica Biel, who really does an excellent job in what is essentially a period love story, something I would have never imagined she'd excel at. She brings a grace and dignity to the role that was surprising and more than holds her own in every scene with Norton. That decision to pose for Gear magazine years ago to get out of her 7th Heaven contract in hindsight was a brilliant career move. She's really coming into her own as an actress and she gives the best performance of her young career here.

Of course comparisons are going to be made between this film and Christopher Nolan's The Prestige, which I haven't seen yet. I'll be reviewing that film next month and from what I heard it's a lot different than this, so it should be interesting to see how they stack up. The Illusionist is far from unforgettable, but it is well done and clever, cementing Neil Burger as a filmmaker to watch.