Conclave

Director: Edward Berger
Starring: Ralph Fiennes, Stanley Tucci, John Lithgow, Sergio Castellitto, Isabella Rossellini, Lucian Msamati, Carlos Diehz, Brían F. O'Byrne, Merab Ninidze, Balkissa Maiga
Running Time: 120 min.
Rating: PG

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)     

Adapted from Robert Harris' 2016 novel, Conclave centers around an election that somehow feels both very real and fictitious all at once. When a pope passes away an organized conclave of Cardinals do convene to vote on a successor, but director Edward Berger's heightened interpretation of events benefits from the process having never really been examined or dramatized on film before. That results in an eye opening watch for anyone curious about what such an event could entail, even under these craziest of circumstances.

The cerebral thriller is as much a reflection of the current political climate as the inner workings of the Roman Catholic Church, with Berger's methodical setup giving way to an intelligently made adult drama that gathers momentum with each plot turn. The results are gripping, as an uncomplicated endeavor gets muddled by lies and corruption, threatening to further tarnish the institution's already shaky reputation.

When Pope Gregory XVII dies of a heart attack, Cardinal-Dean Thomas Lawrence (Ralph Fiennes) gathers his colleagues in seclusion for a papal conclave to elect the new pontiff. Candidates include the very liberal Aldo Bellini (Stanley Tucci) from the United States, Nigeria's Joshua Adeyemi (Lucian Msamati), conservative Canadian Joseph Tremblay (John Lithgow), and far right leaning Italian traditionalist Goffredo Tedesco (Sergio Castellitto). But when Lawrence is informed of an incriminating meeting that took place between Tremblay and the late pope directly before his death, the election is thrown into disarray.

As ballots are counted, more revelations surface, including a tryst from Adeyemi's past that rattles a concerned Sister Agnes (Isabella Rossellini) and the last-minute arrival of  secretly appointed Archbishop of Kabul, Vincent Benitez (Carlos Diehz). Presiding over numerous rounds of voting but expressing little interest in holding the position himself, Lawrence doubts the other candidates can capably fill it, knowing only that someone will have to.

With all the power and responsibility being pope brings, it only makes sense certain nominees wouldn't want it, lie about not wanting it, or stop at nothing to ensure they're elected. If not for the fact he's a good man, our protagonist would probably rather cover his ears, shielding himself and others from all these alleged misdeeds. Instead, he investigates each allegation as if the Church's future depended on it. And that's largely because it does. 

To say Lawrence suffers a crisis of faith isn't accurate since he hasn't lost belief in the Church so much as a process itself that constantly forces him to choose between the lesser of multiple evils. Then again, he also realizes his colleagues are human, prone to the same errors in moral judgment as anyone. This only makes coming to a just, favorable outcome that much harder, especially considering the number of skeletons top candidates are hiding in their closets.

Set to resign only hours earlier, it's clear why the deceased pope needed Lawrence to stay on, recognizing in him the qualities necessary to lead this College of Cardinals through difficult stretches like this. But it's also easy to see how Lawrence has no interest in an admittedly thankless position he feels unsuited for. Ironically, that stance only solidifies his worthiness, doing what few can by putting the Church's needs ahead of personal ambition. 

Waging war with his own conscience as a string of damaging details emerge, Fiennes transfixes as Lawrence, internalizing the stress and anguish as this election drags on. But he doesn't waiver, thoroughly deliberating each move with the knowledge there's only one chance to get it right. As the Cardinals split into opposing voting blocks, Bellini becomes Lawrence's trusted sounding board, with Tucci incredibly effective as a confidante who won't hold back, helping Lawrence wade through the deception. 

The other Cardinals sneakily whisper and conspire, while Lithgow steals scenes as the stubbornly ambitious Tremblay, who may or may not be pulling strings to ensure himself victory. Rossellini's role is small, but impactful, letting Sister Agnes' views be known with looks of disapproval and disdain before speaking out, whether the men want to hear it or not. It's to Lawrence's credit that he doesn't necessarily want input from everyone, yet remains open minded enough to listen just the same.

In the third act, another sane, rational voice speaks up at just the right moment, cutting through conflicting ideologies to remind these Cardinals of the bigger problems raging just outside their walls. It's only when we think it's all finally figured out that the big twist arrives, coming out of left field, but tying into the film's central thematic conflict between tradition and progress. The perfect candidate never existed and won't, so it's almost fitting that amidst all the dissension an enormous detail would slip under the radar, causing Lawrence to stumble headfirst into a change no one imagined.

The question of whether it's acceptable to elect the least compromised among an assembly line of flawed, dishonest candidates becomes the foundation on which the story's built. Bringing a refined precision to the proceedings, Berger and screenwriter Peter Straughan craft the rare prestige film that could play in any era, but still seems specifically suited to now. Carefully constructed and featuring powerful performances from a formidable cast, it squeezes a surprising amount of suspense from a scenario few expected to induce such excitement.             

The Menu

Director: Mark Mylod
Starring: Ralph Fiennes, Anya Taylor-Joy, Nicholas Hoult, Hong Chau, Janet McTeer, Paul Adelstein, John Leguizamo, Aimee Carrero, Reed Birney, Judith Light, Rebecca Koon, Rob Yang, Arturo Castro, Mark St. Cyr
Running Time: 106 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

There's a character in the horror-comedy film The Menu who comments that they're starving after multiple courses of food have already been served. And we're inclined to believe it, since mouse-sized portions are common when eating at an exclusive restaurant like the one depicted here. It's also easy to lose your appetite if the evening's meal is unexpectedly derailed by murder, suicide, torture and a side order of psychotic ramblings. But what matters most is the preparation and presentation of the food, along with the fact you're dining at an important establishment that others of prominent social standing frequent. If the reward is often just being seen there, you have to appreciate how screenwriters Seth Reis and Will Tracy acknowledge that bread crumbs rarely do the trick, no matter how nice it looks on the plate. 

While the carefully selected dinner guests in this film probably don't mind paying a pricey bill, they won't even get their bread crumbs, nor will they be allowed to leave. Held hostage by an obsessive chef who favors "tasting" over "eating," he's determined to deliver a message that's uncomfortably hilarious, violent and offensively truthful. And if the conceit seems crazy, it's at least tightly constructed chaos, immersing us in the thrill of  two top class actors facing off against the backdrop of high cuisine. Surviving each course may be an endurance test for the patrons, but watching it all unfold is a twisted delight, entertaining and suspenseful enough to return for seconds.

Enthusiastic foodie Tyler Ledford (Nicholas Hoult) and his date Margot Mills (Anya Taylor-Joy) are traveling by boat to Hawthorn, an exclusive restaurant that's operated by renowned celebrity chef Julian Slowik (Ralph Fiennes) and located on a remote island. Other guests are food critic Lillian Bloom (Janet McTeer) and her editor Ted (Paul Adelstein), wealthy couple Richard (Reed Birney) and Anne Leibrandt (Judith Light), washed-up movie star George (John Leguizamo) and his assistant Felicity (Aimee Carrero), business partners Soren (Arturo Castro), Dave (Mark St. Cyr), and Bryce (Rob Yang) and Slowik's unresponsive alcoholic mother Linda (Rebecca Coon). 

Following a tour of the island's facilities by dutiful maître d' Elsa (a perfectly deadpan Hong Chau), dinner begins with Slowik introducing a series of bizarre entrées with a theme, often punctuated by some uncomfortable monologues and personal anecdotes related to each course. But when things take a drastically dark turn and the guests' secret wrongdoings are exposed, it becomes clear the host and his militant staff aren't about to let anyone exit on their own accord. As Tyler remains blindly loyal to his favorite chef, Margot's had enough, looking for ways to outsmart Slowik at his own game before their last dish is served.

Slickly Directed by Mark Mylod (who's helmed multiple episodes of of TV's Succession), much of the premise's fun comes in an inability to predict what this sadistic chef will say or do next. There's a slow building sense of tension as these self absorbed patrons swoon in anticipation of each course, blissfully unaware what's ahead, or the dastardly purpose of Slowik's menu. The film also makes hilarious use of title cards, flashing the name and ingredients of the meal on screen, with pithy comments reflecting the chef's sarcastic displeasure. It's a great touch, allowing us to go along for the ride with these unsuspecting guests as their dinner goes from bad to worse. 

Slowik's deadpan humor and stringent demands only grow more unsettling and confrontational, underlined by some really disturbing stories, including a gem involving his dysfunctional childhood that informs a chicken dish in all the wrong ways. Then comes the point of no return, as this perverse dinner theater crosses the line and the true motivation behind these invites surface. The reason for Margot's presence is a little murkier, which bothers Slowik, who has very specific plans for the evening's menu. And she wasn't factored in.

Fiennes channels an outwardly calmer, more calculating version of Gordon Ramsay in a performance that's undeniably the picture's biggest highlight, holding court with his brutal treatment of these customers, who dread the mayhem following each menu reveal. Taylor-Joy is captivating even in silence, but when Margot proves to be the only one willing to challenge Slowik, her performance really soars. In the wrong place at the wrong time, Margot's an outsider who understands his psychology better than most, looking for a weak spot to exploit in order to stay alive. In doing so, she briefly resurrects a piece of him he thought was long gone, as the screenplay makes a great philosophical point about people slowly falling out of love with their jobs, drowning in the miserable minutiae of it all. 

Hoult's Tyler wastes little time throwing his date under the bus when given a chance to sit under the learning tree of his culinary idol. Revealing himself to be more of a narcissistic weasel with each embarrassing outburst, he only generates further sympathy for Margot's plight. The rest of the cast deliver in their roles, with John Leguizamo standing out in the film's funniest scene opposite Fiennes, as we discover the real reason the chef's so repulsed by him.

With an intriguing concept likely to draw comparisons to recent pop culture satires of the rich like Glass Onion and The White Lotus, this has more than a few flourishes that set it apart, like characters who would still be equally unlikable in a lower income bracket. And it turns out recognizing the difference between a expensive dish and a high quality one comes in handy. The filmmakers at least know that nothing beats a really good cheeseburger, giving hungry viewers incentive not to think too hard about The Menu and just savor the meal.      

No Time to Die

Director: Cary Joji Fukunaga
Starring: Daniel Craig, Léa Seydoux, Rami Malek, Lashana Lynch, Ben Whishaw, Naomie Harris, Jeffrey Wright, Christoph Waltz, Ralph Fiennes, Billy Magnussen, Ana de Armas, David Dencik, Rory Kinnear, Dali Benssalah, Lisa-Dorah Sonnet
Running Time: 163 min.
Rating: PG-13

**The Following Review Contains Major Plot Spoilers For 'No Time to Die'**

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

The first thing that jumps out at you after viewing the 25th Bond installment, No Time to Die is that it's really over. Daniel Craig's done as 007. We knew the day was coming, and yet, how it happens still manages to leave the kind of indelible mark that should separate this film from the pack. To an extent, it does, covering a lot of the same ground we've seen in many of Craig's previous outings while taking full advantage of a gargantuan, somewhat punishing running time to do so. It goes all out, but the most shocking revelation is that they chose to make a direct sequel to Spectre, which could be viewed as a victory for those appreciating series continuity. That's not a practice Bond producers have historically embraced, often moving from one entry to the next while only occasionally connecting the dots or leaving some Easter eggs behind.

You'd think all this suggests a forward-looking franchise, but the opposite's true, as different directors have conformed to a traditional 007 template that's been strikingly similar in tone, plot and execution. Cary Fukunaga rarely breaks from it, giving us the usual hits and misses we've grown to expect and have associated with this Bond run. There are some absolutely spectacular sequences followed by others that don't quite work, with the latter magnified by a bloated length filled with expository scenes that sometimes halts the momentum. But if Spectre dissenters can get past this picking up where that mildly received entry left off, it's satisfying in a lot of ways. Unlikely to supplant either Skyfall or Casino Royale as a definitive favorite, it should still justifiably impress many fans by further emphasizing just how much Craig's brought to the table during his Bond reign.

After a chilling flashback shows a young Madeleine Swann witnessing the death of her mother at the hands of future bio-terrorist Lyutsifer Safin (Rami Malek), we flashforward to the present where James Bond (Craig) is vacationing in Matera with Madeleine (Léa Seydoux) following the capture and imprisonment of Blofeld (Christoph Waltz). But when Bond's trip to Vesper Lynd's grave leads to a violent ambush by a group of mercenaries, he leaves Madeleine behind, believing she betrayed him. 

It's now five years later when a retired Bond is contacted in Jamaica by Felix Leiter (Jeffrey Wright) and his new colleague Logan Ash (Billy Magnussen) regarding a bioweapon that's been developed by kidnapped MI6 scientist Dr. Valdo Obruchev (David Dencik). Despite warnings from his 007 successor, Nomi (Lashana Lynch) not to get involved, Bond agrees to help Leiter, stepping out of retirement and on a head-to-head collision with the dangerous Safin. Initially picking off Spectre agents, he has a much more ambitious, demented plan of world domination in store, intending to use Madeleine as a pawn in that game. Terrifyingly obsessed with finishing the trauma he inflicted on her as a child, it'll be up to Bond to get to him first. 

A nearly half-hour prologue that features the snowbound Safin/Madeleine home invasion flashback sequence is unnerving and suspenseful in all the right ways, letting us know under no uncertain terms that what happens here will reverberate through the rest of the narrative and pay off later. And it mostly does. The surprise attack on Bond and call-back to Eva Green's Vesper Lynd might be the first time we've seen him attempt to process her death, serving as sort of a catharsis for fans who finally receive open acknowledgment from the many screenwriters credited on this project of her enduring impact on 007 and the franchise as a whole. 

Of course, the cruel joke here is that all this Vesper reverence occurs in a movie where Léa Sedoux is given the enormous role many would have liked to see reserved for Green had she continued past Casino Royale. There really wasn't any reason to believe Seydoux's character would even be back following Spectre, much less be such a focus that she seems to get as much screen time as Craig. But while still not sharing the greatest chemistry with him, she does give a much stronger performance in her second outing, and that's while being given about four or five times more to do this time around.

After an exhilarating opening and promising set-up, the action starts settling into a more predictable rhythm, with some occasional greatness thrown in. A typically inventive opening title sequence accompanied by Billie Eilish's serviceable but somewhat sleepy main theme leads us into Bond's re-emergence as an MI6 agent, which M. (Ralph Fiennes) resists. If the latter's carelessness can at least be partially blamed for the calamity that brought him back, the usual attempts to establish Bond as this reckless rule breaker who'd rather die than do things "by the book" are offset by all the pull and support he still has within the agency.

Since it's basically established that Moneypenny (Naomie Harris) and Q (Ben Whishaw) will do anything for Bond, retired or not, this leaves the only potential conflict within the ranks to be with his 00 stand-in, Nomi, well played by Lashana Lynch. Any fans bent out of shape that he's somehow been "replaced" should know it seems to be in title only, and not for long. She's very much a supporting player in Bond's story and at times seems as much on his side as Felix, Penny or Q, and probably even more than M. 

Ana de Armas' show-stealing turn as Paloma, a CIA agent assisting Bond in infiltrating a Spectre party in Cuba, is hands down the best performance in the film, supporting or otherwise. Playing a character claiming to only have three weeks training, she quickly wins us over as this bubbly, hyperactive, nervous personality who throws caution to the wind while also having a great sense of humor. Unlike any previous "Bond Girl" it almost feels demeaning to refer to her as such, as de Armas cultivates this easy, effortless flirty rapport with Craig that no one's quite had until now.

Full of surprises, the kick-ass Paloma proves to not only be deceptively dangerous, but the consummate pro whose unusual approach belies an almost astounding level of competence. Her stay lasts only about 20 minutes but does de Armas ever make the most what should be a throwaway role. That the film never fully regains that same energy following her exit should serve as a sign that this is the kind of fresh, contemporary character producers should be thinking about when considering directions the franchise could potentially go.  

If there's a drawback in the screenplay, it's that viewers will feel as if they're far ahead of Bond and the other characters in terms of the plot. There are points where it seems we're literally waiting for them to catch up to the grand scheme (which is no less absurd than some others in the franchise) and who's behind it. That's not to say there aren't still some really great moments like Bond's prison encounter with Blofeld or his emotionally charged reunion with Madeleine, now with a young daughter named Mathilde (Lisa-Dorah Sonnet). While it's not exactly a shocker whose child this is, the idea of Bond as a father has been unexplored, infusing the proceedings with a welcome dynamic that raises the stakes considerably, adding a fair amount of tension to what's already a strong final act.

Largely absent through much of the film's middle portion, Rami Malek's disturbed, disfigured Safin doesn't get as much screen time as you'd expect, but it still kind of works, building up the myth of this character until he finally unleashes hell on Bond. Judging by the end result, he almost has to be considered one of 007's more formidable challengers, with a fairly intriguing backstory that enables Malek to calmly, creepily get under his adversary's skin as a villain completely convinced he's the victimized, misunderstood hero. 

Saffin may not fully succeed in his global plan, he's able to do something no one has in setting off a chain of events that eventually take out Bond. The image of a shot, poisoned 007 standing atop Safin's headquarters as the missiles descend upon the island is about as emotional an end to Craig's run that you could imagine, especially given what Bond leaves behind. And like Spectre before it, the look of this island station is awe-inspiring, with production designer Mark Tildesley successfully paying homage to some of the franchise's classic settings of decade's past. All of it converges as a fitting close for Craig, who's always been underappreciated in the role, his performances wrongly perceived as being only as good as the entries in which he's appeared. It's a problem that plagued his predecessors, but no actor since Connery has done more to overcome it.

If it took Craig's exit from this notoriously risk-averse property to give us something completely different and unexpected, so be it. While they weren't really given much of a choice considering the circumstances, any serious backlash will be offset by the inevitability that this series will soon get a fresh coat of paint anyway, if not a hard reboot that goes beyond the recasting of its iconic protagonist. Whether that's something to look forward to is debatable, as we can certainly do a whole lot worse than No Time to Die. Either way, it carries a great sense of finality, sending 007 out on top and making it very clear that the Bond we've known for the past fifteen years is gone. What's left in his wake is a mixture of dread and anticipation for what's next.                    

The Dig

Director: Simon Stone
Starring: Carey Mulligan, Ralph Fiennes, Lily James, Johnny Flynn, Ben Chaplin, Ken Stott, Archie Barnes, Monica Dolan
Running Time: 112 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

While watching Simon Stone's biographical British drama The Dig, it's not hard at all to believe it's based on a true story. It tells us as much in the opening minutes, and even while creative liberties are  taken, there's something about the delivery that feels particularly authentic, regardless of names and dates. Some may view that as a turn-off, or sign they're going to endure a stuffy period piece lacking the momentum or excitement to grab their attention, but it's nearly impossible not to get caught up in the characters' enthusiasm. Because they care so much about the title adventure and we ultimately grow invested in what happens to them, it succeeds, harkening back to a time where mid-range adult dramas were a big draw simply due to quality alone. 

With pitch perfect performances, memorable cinematography from Mike Eley and a criminally overlooked Stefan Gregory score, it's almost as if this was released in the wrong era. Despite having been nominated for four BAFTA's, it's still hard to argue that if this came out in the mid to late 90's it would be screening next to The English Patient, Secrets and Lies or Waking Ned Devine at the local arthouse multiplex. And it would probably be among the five Best Picture nominees, while likely racking up additional acting nods for its cast. 

Being that it's instead 2021, a prestige film like this now just basically drops on Netflix with very little promotion. And that's not entirely a criticism considering it may not have otherwise seen the light of day at all given the current film climate. Nor is this some passionate defense of The Dig as an unheralded masterpiece because, on the whole, it's just fine. But boy is it ever just about the most comfortable thing you could hope to land on when scrolling through your queue. It's like wrapping yourself in a warm blanket for almost two hours, without worry the filmmaker will suddenly start making wrongheaded decisions or take the material to places it can't or shouldn't go. Given the circumstances, that's an achievement.

On the eve of World War II in 1939, Suffolk, England landowner Edith Pretty (Carey Mulligan) hires local excavator and archaeologist Basil Brown (Ralph Fiennes) to dig at the burial mounds at her estate in Sutton Hoo after both agree on a fair wage. With his former employers attempting to get him to abandon the project for work they've deemed more important, Brown and his assistants soon unearth the remnants of a ship, with him suggesting it could be the possible burial site of someone of high class or great nobility.

As Brown forms a fatherly bond with Edith's imaginative young son Robert (Archie Barnes) and her cousin Rory (Johnny Flynn) joins the dig, noted archaeologist Charles Phillips (Ken Stott) crashes the site, determined to wrestle control from Edith and Brown. Taking over with his own team, including a relatively inexperienced Peggy Pigott (Lily James), a major discovery is made, forcing Edith to make some important choices, even as her health rapidly begins to decline.

Managing to walk the the extemely thin line of delivering exactly what's expected while having just enough surprises up its sleeve, Moira Buffini's screenplay (adapted from John Preston's 2007 novel), stays tightly focused on this escavation's historical implications, as well as the personal ones for those directly involved. After an initial feeling out process between Edith and Brown, an early accident at the site ends up framing their friendship and motivations from that point forward. After that, she quickly realizes he's the right man for this job, regardless of the lack of respect he receives from his archaeological peers, mostly due to ignorance and jealousy. 

Having lost her husband and trying to raise a son while struggling with an undisclosed condition, Edith turns to Brown as kind of a surrogate companion. With him ignoring letters from his own wife, May (Monica Dolan) and spending nearly all of his time with Edith and young Robert, we start wondering where this relationship's going. But the movie's smarter than that. May couldn't be any more supportive of the bond he's formed with them, despite her feeling he's overworked. It's a nice reversal of expectations while also managing to be completely logical. And it's through Edith and Brown's shared discovery that we realize just how damaged she is, with this undertaking clearly giving her the only glimmer of hope and personal sense of purpose she's had in years. It feels right that this is as far as it will go for them, especially considering the film already has a romantic sub-plot that works exceptionally well.

Following her Oscar-nominated turn in Promising Young Woman, it could have been jarring to see Mulligan back doing the period pieces her against type role in that film proved to be a welcome respite from. But it instead only serves to further showcase her versatility in tackling a part that was originally intended for an older actress, more closely matching the fifty-something Edith Pretty was at the time. Fortunately, none of that matters in relation to the narrative and few could have played this as well as Mulligan does. Edith's no pushover, and even as the pressure mounts and the actress effectively conveys a marked physical deterioration in this woman's appearance and demeanor, her loyalty to son Robert and Brown perservere, partially stemming perhaps from regrets over an abandoned archaelogical career. 

Similarly, Fiennes scenes opposite Mulligan and the boy really resonate, with Brown charging forward despite being undermined at every turn by beaurocrats wanting a piece of his discovery. Ken Stott plays the film's biggest blowhard, Phillips, whose lack of knowledge is matched only by his elitist snobbery and frequently incorrect deductions about the project. Lily James appears about an hour in but quickly makes up for lost time as Peggy, dragged along by Phillips and husband Stuart (Ben Chaplin) only because her small stature won't disrupt the site. It's the first of many microagressions she endures from the men on the project, most notably her husband. While having a star at James' level show up so deep into the story is a curious decision, she conveys everything we need to know about this nervous,  bespectacled woman in only a matter of minutes. 

Trapped in a loveless marriage, it's clear where things are going for Peggy as she falls for Edith's cosuin Rory and must battle all these insecurities in the face of this epiphany that she needs to leave her controlling, apathetic husband. With Peggy's feelings slowly bubbling under the surface until finally breaking through. when that moment comes, it's surprising just how emotionally resonant it is, largely due to James' invaluable performance. Seemingly, out of nowhere, she becomes as essential to the film's success as Mulligan's or Fiennes, with the sub-plot also achieving its goal of stirring something in Mulligan's character as she comes to terms with her own mortality. In Peggy, Edith finds a younger counterpart she can mentor and perhaps encourage to take the risks she failed to, with Buffini's script presenting much of that as subtext since the two actresses don't share more than a couple of scenes together. Stone's direction compliments that with restraint, gliding along effortlessly in not telling us how to think or feel and just letting these actors take us there.

It's a relief to know it's possible for screen adaptations to make adjustments a true story that make sense and have those decisions actually enhance the source material. They unquestionably shifted details around, changed characters and added events, but all of these choices were good ones that made for a far better experience than a straight re-telling would. Of course, the irony is that some may still find this too dry, but for fans of these kinds of humanistic dramas, it hits all the right notes.      

That The Dig could be watched repeatedly becomes that much more of a compliment when you realize it doesn't do anything necessarily special that sets it apart from past releases of a similar ilk. But from start to finish, it's just an absorbing story, solidly made and intelligently told. Sometimes that's enough, as certain unremarkable qualities that would cause it to blend in with the pack ten or twenty years ago only serve to make it stand out that much more today.

Spectre

Director: Sam Mendes
Starring: Daniel Craig, Christoph Waltz, Léa Seydoux, Ben Whishaw, Naomie Harris, Dave Bautista, Andrew Scott, Monica Bellucci, Ralph Fiennes
Running Time: 148 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

There's always this feeling of excitement accompanying the announcement of the new actor cast as James Bond. Then, after a few films starring this selection, familiarity starts to set in and the conversation inevitably shifts to when he'll be replaced, and who's next. It's little wonder so many actors are reluctant to accept the role, knowing they'll just serve as a placeholder for whomever succeeds them, regardless of the quality of their performance. Anyone taking the part has to know that going in and be comfortable with it, at least for the duration of their run.

It now appears we've reached that tipping point with Daniel Craig, once again tremendous in his fourth outing as 007 and the franchise's twenty-fourth film, Spectre. Faced with the unenviable task of not only following up one of the strongest entries in 2012's Skyfall, but remaining engaged and entertaining when (forgive the pun) the writing's on the wall regarding his future as Bond. This is likely it, and he exits having done things with the character few before him can claim, despite being hamstrung by decades-long formula that's loosened a bit thanks to his efforts.

It's true that the films take the shape of the actor playing Bond more than they do the selected director, who is clearly there to carry out a very specific task. Of course, their job is to anonymously serve as a carrier for the Broccoli family's creative vision of the character Ian Fleming created in 1952. It's not a job that goes to a boundary-breaking Quentin Tarantino, but someone who won't rock the boat and is capable of leaving an imprint on the franchise that isn't distinctively their own. It's at once the series' greatest strength and biggest liability. And never has that been more evident than in Spectre, which is quite a bit better than some have made it out to be.

While this is thankfully no Quantum of Solace, it's a considerable and expected step-down from Skyfall, even while sharing the same director in Sam Mendes. He definitely "gets it," but a weaker, more convoluted script results in bloated running time that makes you wish we could just do away with some of the traditional formalities germane to the 007 property. But it's worth mentioning that there's a section of the film (really most of the last hour) that's absolutely amazing, harkening back to the best installments of the 60's and 70's. What precedes that is less successful, but in heavily drawing from its own past for inspiration, at least some kind of an attempt is made to create continuity from one film to the next. Whether this approach is retained moving forward is a bit more doubtful.

After a spectacular opening chase sequence set during Mexico's Day of the Dead festival in which Bond (Craig) thwarts a terrorist bombing and kills their leader, an encounter with the man's mysterious widow (Monica Belucci) alerts him to the existence of a secret terrorist organization known as Spectre. Acting on her information and a posthumously videotaped message from M. (Judi Dench), 007 attempts to infiltrate the secret group, despite being indefinitely suspended by the current M. (Ralph Fiennes) for breaching protocol.

With the help of Moneypenny (Naomie Harris) and Q. (Ben Whishaw), Bond is able to get uncomfortably close enough to identify Spectre's leader, Franz Oberhauser (Christoph Waltz), as well as his right-hand assassin, Mr. Hinx (Dave Bautista). Armed with this new information, his mission soon shifts toward protecting Dr. Madeline Swann (Léa Seydoux), the psychologist daughter of a former member marked for assassination. As Bond discovers that this sinister organization and the man behind it are more closely tied to his past than he could have imagined, he must fight this dangerous enemy while facing of the possibility that Britain's "00" program could be shut down for good.

As evidenced by that description, the plot is more overstuffed and complicated than necessary, as are a lot of the Bond films. At times it seems to jumps through hoops to relay what's actually a pretty simple story, frequently getting bogged down with exposition and backstory, at least in the opening hour (save for the thrilling opening sequence). With a screenplay outlining events as if we've never seen a previous Bond entry, it's a certainty James will go on an "unauthorized mission." That he'll be reprimanded for it and disobey direct orders anyway.  And we even get the rather predictable threat of shutting down of the "00" program, a sub-plot that exists primarily so Ralph Fiennes and Naomie Harris have something to do. It does boast a satisfying payoff that makes sense, but it's a bit of a trudge to get there as M. engages in burocratic boardroom battles with an intelligence agency executive (played by Andrew Scott).

Much of the first half consists of Bond following multiple clues that lead to the unveiling of Spectre and a lot goes right once that reveal is made. While I'm not sure if I'm even allowed to talk about the identity of Bond's nemesis, he is a huge, familiar name in the 007 canon and it's worth praising the screenwriters for their renewed focus on series continuity, picking up where Skyfall left off in that regard. If anything, the filmmakers are almost overly ambitious in this installment, determined to retcon nearly everything that occurred in the Craig films by tying it all together here. Even if they bite off more than they can possibly chew, I really appreciated the effort and dedication involved, especially since one of the major problems facing the franchise is that nothing seems to carry over from one film to the next.

There's this weird mishmash of backstory from previous Bond entries and Fleming's novels, but somehow it all works and once the action gets going, it's a real thrill ride, especially the chase and fight sequences involving 007 and Oberhauser's Oddjob-inspired henchman, Mr. Hinx, played by wrestler-turned-actor Dave Bautista. Beyond the sheer physicality of the part, it doesn't require much, but he plays it perfectly deadpan and it's been a while since we've had a fun, well-cast henchman in the series whose fate we're actually invested in.

What Léa Seydoux adds to the equation is completely subjective considering how many differing opinions they'll be regarding her standing among previous Bond Girls. Despite her late, somewhat overly drawn out introduction, she equates herself well with an impressive combo of tenaciousness and vulnerability. Dr. Madeline Swann is no Vesper Lynd from Casino Royale (as a one of the film's most memorable moments actively reminds us) or Teresa di Vicenzo from On Her Majesty's Secret Service, but for this film's purposes she really doesn't need to be. And it's not like she'll be back, which can be a problem in and of itself.

This is supposedly one of the most expensive Bond films ever made and while the lack of Oscar-nominated Skyfall cinematographer Roger Deakins is evident, replacement Hoyte van Hoytema can't be criticized for failing to equal the movie that looked like no other in the series. There's no shortage of memorable images here either, but where it makes up the most ground is in its production design, especially during the encounter at Oberhauser's desert compound (shockingly, a real home that's for sale) in the last hour. This base might be the best Bond action toy set never sold in stores and everything in this entire section is just about perfect, recalling not only the golden age 007 installments but an undiscovered cult sci-fi classic from the 70's.

The suspenseful build-up, the setting and Waltz's calm but disarmingly creepy performance lift this eleventh hour showdown in the desert above much of what came before. Technical choices are spot-on and even some smaller character ones, like Oberhauser's attire, which seems more suited for brunch at the yacht club than torturing 007. Waltz sometimes catches flak for playing variations on the same charming sociopathic villain from film-to-film, but if ever a case can be made for it continuing indefinitely, it's here. His casting was a masterstroke, and if the rumors of him returning are contingent with Craig staying on, then it's a big loss. Both in terms of continuity and the fact he's playing a villain we thought we got enough of.

Something happens at this compound that's one of the the most unintentionally meta moments in recent Bond movies. As Oberhauser threatens to physically invade James' brain and erase his memory with this bizarre device, the easy joke is that it won't even matter since in the Bond universe all is usually forgotten by the next film anyway. The best thing about Skyfall, and what Spectre continues, is rewarding loyal viewers with attention to detail and a backstory that significantly improves the entire experience.

This era found its perfect Bond in Craig, who brought a darker, grittier, more realistic vibe that fit the current times. There's been a self-contained, Dark Knight-esque feeling to his movies and now with him bowing out, it's likely we'll not only have to start from scratch all over again with a new actor, but one or more new directors. And as frustrating as that thought is, it's still absolutely necessary for a franchise that's survived and thrived by continuing to rejuvenate itself. Whichever direction the series goes, we can only hope it finds a way to step even further out of its comfort zone.               
    

The Grand Budapest Hotel

Director: Wes Anderson
Starring: Ralph Fiennes, Tony Revolori, Adrien Brody, Willem Dafoe, Jeff Goldblum, Saoirse Ronan, Edward Norton, F. Murray Abraham, Mathieu Amalric, Jude Law, Harvey Keitel, Bill Murray, Léa Seydoux, Jason Schwartzman, Tilda Swinton, Tom Wilkinson, Owen Wilson, Bob Balaban
Running Time: 99 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)
  
One thing Wes Anderson's never been accused of is his films having an overabundance of plot and action. Even his best work is thought of as primarily aesthetic achievements, his stories serving merely as backdrops for highly stylized costume and production design and visual flourishes. In some ways, the highest grossing and most favorably reviewed film of his career, The Grand Budapest Hotel, doesn't represent a deviation from that classic Anderson template. And yet it also somehow does. This is the closest he's come to directing a screwball action comedy and it contains more story and characters than most would know what to do with. For the first hour I thought I was watching a masterpiece, but by the second he kind of lost me, before recovering and delivering something that's still special. There's a nostalgiac sadness hiding under the humor  that stays with you, as the many colorful characters populating the hotel mourn an era that's rapidly slipping away, or in the case of some, slipped away a while ago. But at the same time, the whole thing still manages to be a lot of fun.

Featuring a story within a story within a story, the film opens in the present day with a teenage girl reading the memoir of an unnamed "Author" (Tom Wilkinson), who narrates the book from his office in 1985, recalling his stay at Europe's Grand Budapest Hotel in 1968. It was then, with the hotel clearly in decline, that the young Author (played by Jude Law) encountered its elderly, reclusive owner, Zero Moustafa (F. Murray Abraham). Over dinner, he tells him the incredible story of how he took ownership of the hotel. We flash back to 1932 when young Zero (Tony Revolori) worked as a lobby boy under the Grand Budapest's eccentric concierge, Gustave H. (Ralph Fiennes), running errands and tending to the guests.

It's when one of Gustave's many older, wealthy mistresses, Madame D (Tilda Swinton) dies under strange circumstances and she leaves him a valuable painting, he finds himself at the center of a murder investigation and the target of her son Dmitri's (Adrien Brody) hired assassin, J.G. Jopling (Willem Dafoe). With the help of Zero and hotel baker Agatha (Saorise Ronan), he must evade capture and clear his name, even as war breaks out in their Republic of Zubrowka, signaling a cultural shift that will heavily impact all their futures.

I want to live in this hotel. That was my first thought upon seeing the majestic structure, which is rendered not by some fake looking CGI in wide, exterior shots but an actual handmade miniature model. Remember those? But it's what happens inside that ends being more impressive, with some jawdropping production design that makes you anxious to discover what secret or character is hiding behind every corridor, room and crevice of the building. The atmosphere may draw you in, but it's the story that keeps you there, as there's this pervading sense of melancholy that distinguishes it from Anderson's other work, despite still being very recognizable as such. The story's not only bigger than usual for him, but broader in scope and crossing over multiple timelines.

While Anderson's a filmmaker almost compulsively obsessed with the past, he's at least now found the ideal outlet by creating a story where all his characters are equally obsessed. Nearly every recognizable name in this fully stacked cast is given at least a moment or two to shine, but the the movie really hangs its hat on the friendship that develops between Ralph Fiennes' witty, somewhat delusional Gustave and his impressionable young lobby boy, Zero, played by newcomer Revolori. Not necessarily known for his comedic skills, Fiennes gives what may be his most memorable performance since his very different one in Schindler's List, while Revolori makes the perfect straight man to his zaniness. Of the rest, Goldblum and Ronan each make valuable contributions, while Jude Law and F. Murray Abraham breath real life and history into roles that could have come off as expository or mere bookenders. The rest of the cast have what amount to cameos, checking the usual boxes of Anderson's favorite actors. If pressed, the section during which Gustave and Zero find themselves on the run from authorities is the weakest, before the story regains its footing in the last third.        

This is actually one of Anderson's messier films, but that's of little consequence considering how ambitious the undertaking is and the ease by which it would rank amongst his most visually daring. He really swung for the fences this time and there's explanation as to why it all works other than the fact that he's become a brand unto himself, with no other filmmaker viewing the world quite like he does. As usual, his whimsical style perfectly suits oddball material, but it isn't calling as much attention to itself as it is reflecting the story's darker themes. And this is all about telling stories, to the point you could easily categorize it as a great epic novel put to film, right down to the impeccably realized hotel of the film's title, which seems as much alive (or in some cases as dead) as those inhabiting it. The more you start considering how much he accomplished here, the larger it looms.

The Reader

Director: Stephen Daldry
Starring: Kate Winslet, Ralph Fiennes, David Kross, Lena Olin
Running Time: 124 min.
Rating: R

*** ½ (out of ****)

SPOILER WARNING! THE FOLLOWING REVIEW REVEALS KEY DETAILS OF THE FILM'S PLOT

Jaws dropped on the morning of January 22nd when Stephen Daldry’s controversial and much maligned The Reader was announced as one of the five films set to compete for the Best Picture Oscar. It took a spot many thought should have been reserved for The Dark Knight and in doing so has been on the receiving end of what could almost be considered a smear campaign heading into the ceremony. When the film ended I needed quite a bit of time to sit and gather my thoughts on it, much less form or express an opinion on it. It’s less an emotional journey than an intellectual one and I can sympathize with those who are upset with the film’s methods or see no value in the entire experience. But I do believe those who think the film asks us to feel sorry for a Nazi war criminal simply because she’s illiterate, or even asks us to feel sorry for her at all, are way off the mark. That’s a gross oversimplification that speaks more to our uneasiness with the subject matter than anything else. Besides, the Academy would never have enough guts to nominate anything that offensive.

The film instead gets most of its mileage from the fact that it really isn’t about Holocaust, but what happens when your previously held perceptions about someone are challenged and pushed to the breaking point. It’s an interesting character study that isn’t necessarily the offensive smut fest you’ve heard it is. That said, the stodgy Academy only nominated it because it touches on the topic of the Holocaust, was produced by the late Anthony Minghella and Sydney Pollack and stars a frequently nude Kate Winslet as a pedophile Nazi guard. While a thoughtful, well-directed film, there’s little evidence to suggest it deserves to be listed as one of the top cinematic achievements of the year. Then again, the same exact statement could be made (to a greater extent) about the mediocre Milk, another Best Picture nominee this year that inexplicably earned widespread acclaim.

The film (based on Bernhard Schlink’s German novel) opens as middle-aged lawyer Michael Berg (Ralph Fiennes) reflects back on his days as a 15-year-old (Michael Kross) in 1950’s West Berlin. During that summer he meets Hanna Schmitz (Winslet) a cold, detached tram attendant in her mid-thirties who takes him in after discovering he falls ill with Scarlet Fever in front of her apartment. After he recovers he goes back to thank her and the two begin a torrid affair in which their passionate bouts of sex are preceded by him reading to her. Aside from the obvious legal issues, this isn’t exactly the healthiest of relationships. Michael, who she refers to as “kid” has to start re-prioritizing his teenage life to meet her needs and feels his own sense of self sliding away in the process. Of course the running joke here is that this kid would instead probably be running around bragging to his friends that he’s banging the hot older chick down the block who looks like Kate Winslet, which just speaks to how inherently difficult this topic is to tackle on film. Just imagine if the genders were reversed. The affair doesn’t last long as Hanna vanishes at the end of the summer. Flash forward to 1966 when Michael (now in law school) discovers her on trial for aiding in the murder of 300 Jews while serving as an SS Guard at Auschwitz.

Hannah is unrepentant, claiming she was just “doing her job,” as a horrified Michael silently looks on with his law class. She doesn’t want to defend herself against the heinous allegations, or more accurately, just can’t. The secret she’s keeping, the one she took a job at Auschwitz to hide, brings her more shame than her role in the murders. That speaks to the character’s moral shortcomings, not the film’s and isn’t Daldry’s personal endorsement that involvement in the Holocaust is somehow “less shameful,” than not knowing how to read, as some have been trying to spin it. People like this existed and probably still do. She’s horrible, her actions beyond deplorable and I didn’t feel sympathy for her at all, nor was I supposed to. And I especially wasn’t supposed to simply because she can’t read. The film gives you a choice and Daldry’s not holding a gun up to your head telling you what to feel. This kid fell in love (or in lust) with the wrong person and now must forever live with the consequences. That’s what this story is REALLY about.

There comes a point in the trial where he’s faced with the option of coming forward with the valuable information that could help her case and must wrestle with speaking up or remaining silent. The choice isn’t easy. It’s here where we’re allowed to put ourselves in his shoes while the film questions the idea of moral responsibility before trailing off in an unexpected direction entirely as the story moves into the ‘70’s and beyond. Michael carries that guilt and grief with him into his adult life, which Fiennes externalizes so well in a role that’s about ten times larger and more important than you’ve been led to believe from the ads. An encounter late in the film between Michael and a survivor (played by Lena Olin) even directly addresses our concerns about having any pity for Hanna. This is Michael’s story and his search for acceptance that his involvement with her has drastically altered his life and even impacted his relationship with his daughter. It’s perplexing how anyone could say Hanna is absolved or let off the hook for her actions given her circumstances by the end of the film. In fact, they really let her have it.

As far as Kate Winslet’s best performances go, this ranks in the top tier, which says a lot. She’s why all of this works and while the arguing rages on as to whether the film wants you to feel sympathy for her character, no one could claim her performance asks you to. Just watch what she does (and doesn’t do) in those courtroom scenes and then later on when she’s believably aged to 65. To say she deserves the Oscar for this is almost beside the point considering she’s pretty much deserved one for every role she’s played in her career. What’s interesting to note is that this part almost went to Nicole Kidman. Had she gotten it this probably would have been a completely different film. After Birth, you’d figure seducing underage kids in bathtubs would be a piece of cake for her now. Fiennes brilliantly anchors the third act but it’s David Kross as the 15-year-old Michael who shares all the major scenes with Winslet and goes miles further than just holding his own, conveying all the confusion and angst someone that age would be feeling while saying very little.

This is a defense of the film, although not a passionate one because I really believe Academy members voted for it for all the wrong reasons and it shouldn’t rank among the top five achievements last year in cinema. It was only released to line Harvey Weinstein’s pockets and rack up Oscars and that it ended up actually being intelligent was probably some kind of happy accident. At times it also feels like a homework assignment. But that doesn’t mean we should just stop making movies about difficult, challenging subjects because it makes us uncomfortable. Or that all characters in these types of films should be portrayed as inhuman monsters who cackle and twirl their Hitler mustaches while sending innocent people to die because it makes us feel better about what happened. Many of them were probably a lot like this woman.

The tough issues covered here couldn’t have been handled any more sensitively and the tone couldn’t have been balanced any better yet everyone still seems to find it inappropriate. At least this inspires thought and discussion. Something like Milk just inspired for the sake of inspiring. And reducing a daring political figure’s life to standard TV movie of the week fodder is more offensive to me than anything in this. At least this took risks. Sorry, but nothing about the film is average, from its writing, to its direction, to the performances. And I do sincerely apologize for that because I really wanted to hate this film more than you know. It ends giving you a lot to think about, which is what good art should do. That The Reader has sparked such controversy and outrage is a credit to its power, but also a disturbing sign that the notoriously out-of-touch Academy may have actually struck a nerve.