Mickey 17

Director: Bong Joon Ho
Starring: Robert Pattinson, Naomi Ackie, Steven Yeun, Patsy Ferran, Cameron Britton, Daniel Henshall, Stephen Park, Anamaria Vartolomei, Toni Collette, Mark Ruffalo, Holiday Grainger
Running Time: 137 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

Sometimes a movie just lands with a thud, any initial curiosity factor wearing off as it fades into obscurity following its release. And while flopping at the box office isn't a new phenomenon, the turnaround has gotten progressively faster, with even high quality projects struggling to find a foothold. But when it's a film from the Oscar winning director of one of the more popular and deserving Best Picture winners in years, that's bigger news. Especially since Bong Joon Ho's unfairly overlooked sci-fi satire Mickey 17 seems like the kind of visionary achievement audiences would get behind. 

That mainstream moviegoers passed on it could be viewed as a compliment, or at least proof Bong can still paint on a canvas this large without sacrificing the uniqueness and complexity he brought to his previous work. Based on Edward Ashton's 2022 novel Mickey7, the filmmaker's highly anticipated follow up to Parasite throws a lot at the wall, but much of its philosophical absurdity sticks, with some of its better elements recalling Star Wars, Catch-22, Brazil and Southland Tales. But as chaotic and trippy as this ride is, it never feels disjointed or patched together, its few flaws resulting from a lengthy, overambitious final act that still manages to succeed on its own terms. 

It's 2050 and an awkward, down-on-his luck Mickey Barnes (Robert Pattinson) and his friend Timo (Steven Yeun) find themselves at the mercy of a murderous loan shark who vows to travel the ends of the Earth to exact revenge. So their solution is to leave the planet, joining a shuttle expedition spearheaded by slimy, ex-politician Kenneth Marshall (Mark Ruffalo) and his wife Ylfa (Toni Collette). While Timo becomes a pilot, Mickey volunteers as an "Expendable," sacrificing his life in treacherous jobs, only to be continuously cloned in a reprinting machine to do it all again, memory intact. 

During Mickey's four year trip, he develops a romance with security officer Nasha (Naomie Ackie) as the crew eventually arrive on ice-planet Niflheim to prepare for colonization. But when Mickey's seventeenth incarnation is sent out to capture a native life form known as a "Creeper" for testing, he survives, returning to discover a Mickey 18 has already replaced him. Violating Marshall's rules against "Multiples," Mickey 17 forms a strained alliance with his wilder, more aggressive doppelganger so both can avoid permanent extermination.  

As the colony's guinea pig and literal crash test dummy, an impressionable Mickey begins his journey believing he's escaped the turmoil and oppression on Earth to serve a greater purpose with this assignment. Instead, he'll discover the hand he's been dealt is far worse, occupying the bottom rung of a cruel caste system wherein he's sacrificed to the whims of Marshall's insatiable greed.

Hauled up in claustrophobic living quarters and regularly fed slop for meals, Mickey's been manipulated into accepting his lot without a second thought, much like the rest of the lower class. In a society ruled by an oafish king there's no room for individual thought or resistance, at least until an unexpected turn of events challenges that. An easy target for those who wish to mock him, even Mickey's one supposed friend is indifferent to his suffering, which is creatively depicted in a darkly humorous montage that ends with his latest version being spit out of a giant printer. 

Resigned to the physical and emotional trauma of each demise, Mickey consoles himself with the fact each demise isn't really the end. But in many ways it's worse in that he's a human science experiment, ogled at with a mixture of pity and callous curiosity by his peers. The lone exception is his no-nonsense, resourceful girlfriend Nasha, who sticks by whichever version of him she gets next. 

When number 17 doesn't perish as expected, his interactions with the cynical and rebellious 18 results in crazy, often hilarious shenanigans involving recreational drugs and a compellingly complicated love quadrangle involving Nasha and fellow security agent Kai (Anamaria Vartolomei). There's also an incredible scene where Marshall invites Mickey to a dinner that's not only emblematic of the film's themes, but a turning point for him in truly comprehending his place in this zealot's capitalistic food chain. And since it takes the power of the masses to rise up against tyrannical oppression, much of the third act involves that battle to thwart the clownish dictator's dominance.

Adopting a strangely high-pitched voice, unkempt hair and shy, clumsy body language, the versatile Pattinson is astonishing as this odd outcast we can't help but root for. Carefully skirting the line between comedy and drama, he hits all the right notes in giving what has to be the most intriguing turn of his career. Naomi Ackie is a force as Nasha, injecting heart, loyalty and determination into an unresistant character willing to do anything for Mickey, even if it means jeopardizing her own life. A far less loyal Timo is played to squirrely, double crossing perfection by Yeun while Vartolomei impresses as the good hearted but compliant Kai, torn between her feelings for Mickey and an allegiance to the system. 

Ruffalo's brilliantly off-the-wall performance as this failed politician turned smarmy authoritarian is a riot, with the actor very clearly incorporating Trump-like mannerisms into Marshall's personality and demeanor. Under normal circumstances that could come across as a stunt, but in this sociopolitical farce, it completely works. And Ruffalo doesn't hold back, devouring every scene as this laughably incompetent man child who's just delusional enough to be dangerous. This idea is only bolstered by Marshall's bootlicking minions and conniving wife, portrayed with sarcastic flair by a devilish Collette.

The film's finale is bolstered by Fiona Crombie's production design and some surprisingly strong visual effects for the Creepers, who play an enormously important role in the central plot. Part sci-fi, part scathing social critique, Bong manages to create a wholly original universe that has us both laughing and cringing at the circumstances befalling our hapless, sympathetic hero. But what resonates most is Bong's timely examination of how unchecked technology gives those in power another dangerous tool to control the masses.                       

Juror #2

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

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nightmare Alley

Director: Guillermo del Toro
Starring: Bradley Cooper, Cate Blanchett, Rooney Mara, Toni Collette, Willem Dafoe, Richard Jenkins, Ron Perlman, David Strathairn, Mary Steenburgen, Peter MacNeill, Holt McCallany, Paul Anderson, Jim Beaver, Clifton Collins, Jr., Tim Blake Nelson
Running Time: 150 min.
Rating: R 

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Part remake, part noir homage, Guillermo del Toro's Nightmare Alley will likely go down as one of those more respectable reimaginings that gets more right than wrong, making for an immersive, entirely agreeable experience. Free of the supernatural elements that have categorized much of del Toro's work, all the attention shifts to the soullessness and moral corruption that resides within. And there isn't a much better a setting for that than traveling sideshow carnivals of the 30's and 40's, populated by downtrodden characters being either used, abused or manipulated as scams and cons run amok. With a script from del Toro and co-writer Kim Morgan, the second feature adaptation of William Lindsay Gresham's 1946 novel doesn't stray too far from the source material in the narrative sense, instead stylistically distinguishing itself in a class of its own, as del Toro's output tends to. 

With a stacked, all-star-cast and awe inspiring production design, the plot's essentially one long con game, and while the second half payoff's considerably more impactful than what precedes it, the whole setup looks better in retrospect, especially once the story arrives at its inevitably tragic destination. There's a certain aesthetic superficiality at play that matches its characters, so even while it doesn't transcend the horror genre to evolve into something more profound, you'd still be hard-pressed to find a a movie of its ilk more technically proficient or firing on as many cylinders.

It's 1939 and Stanton Carlisle (Cooper) takes a job as a carny after burning down his house with a dead body inside. When the carnival's owner, Clem Hoatley (Willem Dafoe) recruits him to help with the show's geek, who's fallen ill, Stan moves up to begin working with clairvoyant Madame Zeena (Toni Colette) and her alcoholic husband, Pete Krumbein (David Strathairn), who teaches him the secrets of their act. While learning and studying their cold reading and coded language tactics, he begins to fall for shy performer Molly Cahill (Rooney Mara), offering up some valuable new ideas for her electrocution act. But after Pete dies from consuming wood alcohol, Stan takes the lessons he's learned on the road with Molly as his assistant, leaving their carnival days behind to reinvent himself as a psychic act for Buffalo's wealthy elite. 

Ignoring Pete's warnings about leading people on when it comes to contacting the deceased, Stan's bluff is called by mysterious psychologist Dr. Lilith Ritter (Cate Blanchett), who attempts to publicly expose  his act as a fraud, with little success. Humiliated but intrigued by the scammer, she offers him a deal involving a rich but potentially dangerous patient named Ezra Grindle (Richard Jenkins) whose lover died years ago from a forced abortion. Despite Molly's objections, Stan makes promises to Grindle about his late partner he may not be able to keep, ensnaring himself in a web of lies and deceit from which there may be no escape. 

What makes this all mostly work is that there's just enough revelations and twists in the script, while still remaining relatively simple at its core. Themes of greed, avarice and betrayal are front and center, eventually coming full circle in a powerful ending, but not before some convoluted happenings occur along the way. Del Toro strikes just the right tone, especially in the early carnival scenes that set Stan on his dark path, eventually dragging Mara's Molly down along with him, though she admittedly registers a bit flat as a character.

Cooper's incredibly effective depiction of the protagonist's transformation from wide-eyed, ambitious awe into obsessive greediness is facilitated by the supporting cast. Whether it's Strathairn's hopeless drunk, Collette's tarot reader or Dafoe's swindling huckster, they all more than carry their share of the load. As does Tamara Deverell's production design and Dan Laustsen's cinematography, which immerses them all in this weathered, dirty, depressing "freak show" world. That this was also released in black and white actually makes a lot of sense, as it's hard to think of any recent picture with a content and visual style better suited to that treatment without it feeling like a gimmick. 

It isn't until Stan takes his act on the road with Molly and encounters Dr. Ritter that the movie really comes alive, with the possibility presenting itself that the ultimate player has finally met his match.  Blanchett's femme fatale looms largest of any character, bringing a cunning, seductive sense of danger and intrigue to Ritter with each carefully calculated move she makes. Her nomination-worthy performance is the ideal fit for this material, with the chemistry she shares with Cooper fueling the film's most tension-filled moments, even as it's clear the direction del Toro's heading in the last act. 

There are clues and brief flashbacks emphasizing a past Stan needs to run far away from, but can't, no matter how hard he tries. With this mentalist show, he's devised a one-way ticket to the big time, unaware his own weaknesses are about to be exploited and exposed as callously as his clients have been by him. What starts as a scheme goes entirely too far, his eventual comeuppance arriving in the final scene, sentenced to the very life he so desperately tried to escape, at any cost imaginable.    

Even as Del Toro's direction trumps the script, you'd often never know it, as the atmosphere and performances carry the day, specifically Bradley Cooper's. Further extending his run as maybe the most consistently reliable actor and movie star working today, he delivers again with his portrayal of this ambitious, narcissistic carny more than willing to sell his soul, or anyone else's, for a quick buck. Relentlessly depressing and darkly humorous, Nightmare may not be for all tastes, but it's still a keeper, likely to be revisited down the line as something slightly more accomplished than its critical and commercial reputation suggests.  

Knives Out

Director: Rian Johnson
Starring: Daniel Craig, Chris Evans, Ana de Armas, Jamie Lee Curtis, Michael Shannon, Don Johnson, Toni Collette, Lakeith Stanfield, Katherine Langford, Jaeden Martell, Christopher Plummer, Frank Oz, K Callan, Noah Segan, M. Emmet Walsh
Running Time: 130 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

**Warning: The Following Review Contains Major Plot Spoilers**

Rian Johnson's Knives Out distinguishes itself from just about any other recent mainstream film by filling a massive void. It actually feels necessary, resurrecting a sub-genre many have probably forgotten even existed. And in the process, he not only improves the formula, but reminds us just how thrilling a good old fashioned murder mystery can be, especially when executed with this much precision and ingenuity. It's easy to believe there are fewer big screen mysteries because the level of difficulty is so high, both in delivering a satisfying, unpredictable script and directing so many different actors sharing the same scenes. Johnson greatly excels at this, and while its closest cinematic relatives would seem to be something like Clue or Deathtrap, you'd have to be careful not to similarly categorize this as a "whodunnit?"

An inaccurate "whodunnit?" hook would immediately set audiences up for a big reveal or ending twist that may or may not work depending upon whether we feel the culprit is suitably surprising. The players in Johnson's game don't feel like chess pieces to merely be moved across the board until we're left with a killer, but multi-dimensional characters whose motivations and actions make them interesting and complex enough to carry a morality tale all of their own. It's also doubles as a scathing, satirical commentary about wealth and privilege, rightfully earning every comparison it's gotten to Best Picture winner, Parasite, with which it would make an intriguing double-feature.

By getting the"who" question out the way by its mid-point, Johnson takes the pressure off, freeing the script up to focus instead on the "how" and "why." And it's there when you become completely absorbed by the story, recognizing that unlike previous ensemble mysteries, we actually have someone worth rooting for. The story's focus never leaves her, from the first frame up until the last, granting audiences one of the strongest protagonists you could hope to find at the center of such insanity.

When wealthy crime novelist Harlan Thrombey (Christopher Plummer) is found dead with his throat slit in the family's Massachusetts mansion on his 85th birthday, an anonymous tip sends famed private detective Benoit Blanc (Daniel Craig) to the residence suspecting foul play. He's joined by Detective Elliott (Lakeith Stanfield) and Trooper Wagner (Noah Segan), local police who are more than ready to rule it a suicide as they begin questioning the eccentric Thrombeys, many of whom Blanc catches in lies and suspects would have strong motives to murder the ailing patriarch.

Leading up to his death, Harlan had seriously strained relationships with most of the family, mainly due to them freeloading off his fortune. He had just fired youngest son Walt (Michael Shannon) from his publishing company, threatened to expose that son-in-law Richard (Don Johnson) was cheating on daughter Linda (Jamie Lee Curtis) and cut off daughter-in-law and hippie lifestyle guru Joni's (Toni Colette's) allowance, which helps pay for granddaughter Meg's (Katherine Langford) college tuition. On the night of his death, he also had a heated verbal confrontation with black sheep grandson, Ransom (Chris Evans). His only confidante was Harlan's nurse and caregiver, Marta Cabrera (Ana de Armas), who soon becomes Blanc's biggest ally in the investigation when he realizes she often hears and sees everything. But even she has a secret, along with an unfortunate propensity to vomit when lying. But as Blanc gets closer to the truth, the Thrombeys may instead end up tearing each other apart over the contents of Harlan's will.

Supposedly, one of Johnson's biggest inspirations writing this was the classic detective series, Columbo, and you can really see how that would be, as the blueprint does faintly echo the style of mysteries you'd expect to see on that show, one of tv's most underrated crime dramas. In it, a seemingly clueless, schlubby-looking title murder detective (incomparably played by Peter Falk) would brilliantly connect all these dots to eventually come to the conclusion of how exactly the perpetrator committed the crime. That person's identity can often be telegraphed early on, making the details the reveal the main event, heavily favoring character development over a traditional "whodunnit."

That series, and especially its classic Steve Spielberg-helmed episode, "Murder By The Book" couldn't have been far from Johnson's mind when deciding to tackle this. Unlike Columbo, Blanc at least seems superficially competent and smoother, if initially unremarkable, as he observes the local officers question each lying family member. We not only get a glimpse of the detective's low-key shrewdness in these moments, but also the clueless and somewhat hilarious selfishness of this dysfunctional family. It's early into the story when we realize Harlan was justifiably sick of all of them, most of whom just so happen to have convenient alibis of some sort. But while the Thrombeys claim they view his nurse Marta as a member of their family and would do anything to help her, the validity of that promise gets shakier the more information we glean about what they truly value.

The more we discover about Marta, the easier it is to see why Harlan holds her in such high regard. Johnson's device of having the character vomit upon lying is crazily brilliant, adding another layer of tension to each scene she shares with Detective Blanc and eventually Chris Evans' obnoxious character, who eventually reveals himself as both more and less than he appears. When Johnson pulls the rug out from under us far earlier than expected and the narrative shifts to Marta's survival, she tries against her better judgment to hide her horrible mistake and survive in a shark tank full of loony Thrombeys. Of course, Blanc is more than a few steps ahead in recognizing she's the key to him piecing together the remains of the puzzle. And this is exactly the kind of quirky, outside-of-the-box role we've been waiting for Daniel Craig to take in his 007 off time, reminding just how much timing and range he demonstrates in supporting character parts, especially something as quirky and dryly comedic as this. 

Ana de Armas is the real discovery here as Marta, managing to remain the film's honest, moral center even when being forced into dishonesty. A shy medical caretaker who just wants to do right, what makes de Armas' performance special is how that quality consistently peaks through in all her actions and mannerisms, no matter how frightened the character seems or how unpredictably insane things get around her. Marta keeps finding these hidden reserves of strength, even as all the other reveal their weaknesses, embarassingly trying to manipulate her. Spoiled, black sheep Ransom tops that list, with Chris Evans relishing in this guy's inadequecies and stealing nearly every scene he's in, uproariously clashing with every member of his family, each of whom hate him a little more than the next. The feeling is more than mutual, leading to his now infamous scene in which he individually singles all of them out with a choice expletive.

Just as you've never seen Craig or Evans like this, Toni Colette similarly surprises as the irresponsible Joni, a flighty Gwyneth Paltrow-like lifestyle guru who owns a GOOP-like company. Her and daughter Meg are clearly set up as the most liberal of the clan, but despite a heated political argument with Don Johnson's ultra-conservative Richard, both reveal themselves as close-minded to Marta's situation as he is. That's most disappointingly true of Meg, whom Katherine Langford plays as her closest confidante, only to quickly turn when Harlan's fortune enters the equation, almost reflexively sucked into the vortex of her self-serving family. It also says a lot that Michael Shannon isn't playing the craziest or most unstable character, but still delivers his fair share of insanity as Harlan's entitled son.

It would almost be too easy if the Thrombeys were all just one-dimensionally terrible people, but they're not, with a few even demonstrating varying degrees of likability. It's that they're priorities are so messed up that make them the story's antagonists and allow us to root for their comeuppance in the end. They're not merely "suspects" and their alleged involvement in the crime, if you could even consider it one, is almost beside the point. This could have been aspect some viewers had problems with, especially those expecting the entire film to revolve around a reveal. We do we get something similar, but better, as Blanc gives a detailed explanation that makes logical sense, while revealing truths about its characters that confirm our investment in them.

The third act helps further establish Marta as the only trustworthy person in Harlan's life, even if no one in the family understands this, as shown by their immediate accusation that she must have been sleeping with him to be left everything in his will. And of course they would think that, given every relationship they've likely had in their lives transactionally revolved around sex or money, rendering them oblivious to how two people could share a connection that doesn't depend on either. Harlan realizes she made a big mistake, but an innocent one that would carry far worse consequences for her illegal immigrant family than a physically incapacitated octogenarian whose relatives treat him like garbage. And the true brilliance in Johnson's screenplay comes to light when we discover it wasn't her mistake at all, and Blanc's unraveling of Ransom's plan comes as a direct result of both her skills as a nurse and genuinely good heart.

When the film's sensational final minutes expose Ransom as the sociopath he is, but the rest are barely any better, as Marta stares down on them from the balcony of her newly bequeathed estate. The Thrombeys are left scrambling in their former driveway, finding themselves for the first time on the outside looking in. Or, exactly where they belong. It's a twist as worthy of Rod Serling as Agatha Christie, and a reminder of the tightrope walk required to successfully pull off socio-political satire. Johnson lets the characters take the reigns, and the rest organically falls into place, as the best genre deconstructions do. The right person is left standing because she's deserving. It's a kick in the gut and a reward for viewers paying attention to all the details. Not so bad for a director still inexplicably being raked over the coals for a certain "controversial" Star Wars entry. But with a razor-sharp script and an eclectic, super-talented cast all being used to their maximum potential, it's impossible to deny this as a far better platform for his talents. Bring on the sequel.