Disclosure Day

Director: Steven Spielberg
Starring: Emily Blunt, Josh O' Connor, Colin Firth, Eve Hewson, Colman Domingo, Wyatt Russell, Henry Lloyd-Hughes, Elizabeth Marvel, Hettienne Park, Tommy Matinez, Gabby Beans, Jeremy Shamos, Brandon Wilson Courtney Grace 
Running Time: 145 min.
Rating: PG-13

 

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)  

A sense of excitement surrounded the news that Steven Spielberg's sci-fi thriller Disclosure Day would find the legendary director returning to the genre where he experienced some of his greatest success. And while the filmmaker who helmed so many cultural touchstones has grown older and more experienced, he's continued to show flashes of greatness in adapting to the times. Still, no one can be blamed for entering this with lowered expectations, as its title and trailers suggested something closer to a reboot of M. Night Shayamalan's Signs, complete with matching crop circles. 

Understandably choosier about the projects he takes on, we should know by now not to underestimate Spielberg, who wouldn't put his weight behind a premise done to death by Hollywood unless it's something's special. And David Koepp's script is, resulting in an intelligent, visually gripping spectacle far superior to what its advertising implied. Frenetically paced and spectacularly shot, this doesn't let up for a minute, trusting viewers to keep up as it builds to an emotional, thought provoking climax.   

With countries hovering on the brink of World War III, U.S. cybersecurity specialist Daniel Kellner (Josh O' Connor) has stolen classified information from his employer, the government contracted Wardex Corporation. Now in possession of a mysterious extraterrestrial artifact and a hard drive containing proof of alien life dating back to Roswell, he's a hunted man. Evading the company's CEO Noah Scanlon (Colin Firth), he flees with girlfriend Jane Blankenship (Eve Hewson) while maintaining communication with disillusioned Wardex co-worker Hugo Wakefield (Colman Domingo). Having assembled his secret team at an undisclosed location, Hugo's already set in motion a plan to reveal the truth to the world.

Meanwhile in Kansas City, local meteorologist Margaret Fairchild (Emily Blunt) alarms musician boyfriend Jackson (Wyatt Russell) with her increasingly odd, erratic behavior. Speaking in foreign languages she shouldn't know and suddenly displaying psychic abilities, things only get stranger when she delivers an incomprehensible weather report on KCXE's newscast that quickly goes viral. Now under siege from Wardex agents who recognize her extraterrestrial language, she hits the road to find Daniel, with whom she shares an inexplicable bond. Together they'll try to unlock their repressed memories and expose this cover up to the world, unless Scanlon gets to them first.                

The story's well underway by its opening scene, posing more questions than answers when Daniel's seemingly held hostage by Wardex agents. He's clearly in possession of something Scanlon wants and the fact these characters are already way ahead of us makes for an exciting dynamic that quickly piques our interest. And though Daniel and Jane each know considerably less about each other than they originally assumed, he still holds most of the secrets, remaining committed to seeing this through with Hugo's help.

Spielberg's biggest surprise is that the whole film feels like two extended, action packed road trips with protagonists barely given enough time to process the enormity of what's happening. Like Daniel, Blunt's Margaret is a target, but must also grapple with psychic powers she doesn't appear to fully comprehend, at least not yet. While Hugo knows it's imperative she and Daniel unite in publicly disclosing the contents of the Archive, the consequences and specifics come later. Just not before some awe inspiring chase scenes set at a barn house and on a speeding train. 

That Firth's Scanlon isn't your typical one dimensional villain can be credited to both Koepp's screenplay and the actor's turn as a man broken enough to convince himself he's right. Even if Scanlon brings up valid points about the public's potential response to this info, the root of his concern stems from a monetary desire to maintain power and control following a deeply personal loss. As a former nun, Jane's worries are largely rooted in moral and religious fears, making for an intriguing clash when Scanlon uses the extraterrestrial artifact to telepathically infiltrate her consciousness. But this device isn't just a clever narrative tool, as it causes nearly as much physical and emotional distress to its user as their intended target.

O' Connor is engagingly effective as this whistleblower sure in his beliefs, if a little fuzzy on how he'll pull it all off. Blunt's given a lot more to juggle as Margaret, a TV personality whose newfound abilities turn her world upside down, affecting everyone she encounters. The whole performance plays like an outer body experience as the actress simultaneously conveys the fear and confusion accompanying such a bizarre phenomenon. But her work really kicks into high gear once Margaret gets a handle on her powers and embraces what they'll eventually come to mean in a larger sense. 

Domingo's part is pivotal, with Hugo's knowledge carrying a certain air of mystery as we speculate why he's guiding Daniel from what looks like the confines of a giant stage set. Ultimately though, his goal is to facilitate Daniel and Margaret's connection, which receded into their subconsciousness long ago. This retrieval process leads to the film's most divisive section, featuring childhood flashbacks shot by cinematographer Janusz Kamiński in a style that visually resembles a Thomas Kincaid painting.

A lack of full disclosure in a film titled Disclosure Day would be the ultimate bait and switch, and while we do know where that'll occur, it's all about the "how," especially when the struggle to expose the truth becomes a race against time. The final act is surprisingly powerful, not only due to the unearthed footage that raises the film's believability quotient or even John Williams' quietly stirring score, but one unforgettable performance. It comes from relatively unknown actress and former real life TV reporter Courtney Grace, who's tasked with the herculean feat of delivering this live breaking news. With astonishingly authentic facial reactions and delivery, her unnamed NBC anchorwoman becomes the world's eyes and ears, lifting the conclusion to a place we didn't think it could possibly reach.

Easily one of Spielberg's better recent efforts, this is a worthy entry in his rich sci-fi catalogue, earning thematic comparisons to Minority Report, and more directly, Close Encounters of the Third Kind. After an opening that might have audiences scratching their heads, the ideas gradually grow as we're taken on a wild ride with two intrinsically linked characters who spend the majority of the picture on separate but interwoven quests.  

Spielberg proves less interested in the existence of extraterrestrial life than what our collective reaction says about us as a species. The idea we're not alone definitely isn't new, but this posits a gripping dramatization of what happens when conspiracy meets reality. Rather than focusing on the aliens and their intentions, he takes a riskier, less traveled route by questioning whether we'd ever have enough empathy, faith and understanding to accept them.   

The Woman in the Window

Director: Joe Wright
Starring: Amy Adams, Gary Oldman, Anthony Mackie, Fred Hechinger, Wyatt Russell, Brian Tyree Henry, Julianne Moore, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Tracy Letts
Running Time: 100 min.
Rating: R 

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)  

The most surprising aspect of Joe Wright's long gestating The Woman in the Window is how underwhelming the results are given the staggering amount of talent involved. Of course, this happens, as movies collecting dust in post-production are frequently dumped onto streaming services with little to no fanfare. But in this instance, Netflix actually went to some lengths to promote it, perhaps hoping the cast's pedigree would overcome its creative flaws, which keep piling up as its story becomes more involved and convoluted. It starts with rather transparent aspirations of honoring Hitchcock or De Palma before devolving into an inferior Scream sequel in its second half, complete with a clumsy reveal. And that's a shame since you can kind of see the skeletal framework of a film that may have really worked under different circumstances, as a few stronger performances seem in search of the better material these actors mistakenly thought they signed onto.

Based on a 2018 bestseller by A.J. Finn, that this script was adapted by Tony-winning playwright (and gifted character actor) Tracy Letts leads you to believe something got lost on its journey from his pen to the screen. That it was supposed to be released in late 2019 confirms as much, as viewers will be jumping through hoops to deal with some of the arbitrary contrivances before reaching an ending that lands with a thud. While there are laughs to be had, it mostly takes itself too seriously for that, especially when information comes to light that would have ended the film ten minutes after it started. Knowing this, it's unlikely many would have stuck around for the over-the-top third act that wraps up what's been a strange and wildly inconsistent mystery.

Depressed, agoraphobic child psychologist Anna Fox (Amy Adams) lives alone in her Manhattan brownstone apartment after separating from her husband Edward (Anthony Mackie), who currently has custody of their daughter, Olivia (Mariah Bozeman). Mixing drinks and medications on a daily basis, Anna's psychiatrist Dr. Landy (Letts) becomes concerned with her obsession of watching all the neighbors from a second floor window, while also acknowledging that interest could be a subtle sign of progress in her therapy. But when spouses Alistair (Gary Oldman) and Jane (Julianne Moore) Russell move in across the street with their teen son, Ethan (Fred Hechinger), Anna's takes her spying to another level.

After two separate encounters with a clearly dispondant Ethan and a flighty Jane, Anna begins suspecting the mother and son are trapped in an abusive household. When she believes she sees Jane get stabbed to death by husband Alistair through her zoom lens, his furious denials and attempts to discredit Anna to Detective Little (Brian Tyree Henry) begin. Anna's basement tenant, singer-songwriter David (Wyatt Russell), provides little help in corroborating her story while possibly hiding some secrets of his own. With her mental state deteriorating and everyone gaslighting her into doubting what she saw, Anna works overtime to put together clues that prove this horrific crime was really committed and not merely a construct of her fragile psyche.

While the film is all over the map in terms of plot, the amount of time it spent on the shelf probably helped it in some ways, at least as far as its themes of isolation seeming timelier than they otherwise would. And for about half the film, the script does seem very seriously interested in taking us into the fractured headspace of this woman who obviously experienced a severe trauma we only later discover the details of. 

Losing herself in classic movies and TV, Anna's exiled herself inside this apartment with her cat, and the remainder of her entertainment is provided by spying on this wealthy, dysfunctional family across the street. Other than  sporadic phone conversations with her estranged husband and the weekly psychiatric counseling, she's in her own world, reality hanging by a thread after an adjustment to her meds. 

Adams is really strong in these opening scenes and her interactions with Hechinger, as this desperately off, needy teen, are unnerving and affecting. But it's the entrance of an entertainingly loopy Julianne Moore as "Jane Russell" that sends everything into a tailspin, but not an altogether welcome one, through no fault of Moore's performance, which is probably better than the story deserves. 

After Anna witnesses Jane's murder the entire scenario goes down this rabbit hole where everyone starts questioning her sanity and the mystery unfolds as to whether everything's playing out in her head. The more information that's revealed the sillier it gets, more closely resembling one of those 90's direct-to-video thrillers than the Hitchcockian whodunnit it initially purported itself as being. 

Most of the film's charms are found in these supporting turns, with the possible exceptions of Gary Oldman's relegation to stock villainy and Jennifer Jason Leigh being given the least to do of anyone as the supposed "real" Jane Russell, an eleventh hour wrench thrown into the plot. While the characters are comparable to pieces on a game board, both Hechinger and Wyatt Russell make the most of what they're given, with the latter proving more than capable of handling darker material you'll wish was better after seeing his performance. And despite fairly limited screen time, Moore makes the biggest impact in her extended scenes opposite Adams, teasing the potential for a gripping mystery that just never quite gets off the ground.

This is one of those projects where the harder the script works, the returns only seem to keep diminishing. It's not a chore to sit through and Adams has a great grasp on her character, but whatever subtly the story had at its start literally goes, if you'll forgive the pun, out the window with a fascinating mess of a finale. Featuring a gotcha revelation that's partially confusing and not as surprising as you'd think, it really does channel one of those cheap slasher endings in all the wrong ways. 

Since Adams basically headlines every other film released these days, this feels like a bigger departure for Wright, who's a long way off from Atonement and Hanna, dipping his feet into the waters of a bargain basement thriller he tries his best to elevate. We'll never know the exact circumstances surrounding how The Woman in the Window turned out like it did, making it almost uncomfortable to assign blame. But even those able to have fun with this would have a tough time claiming it reaches its full potential, whatever that was intended to be.       

Everybody Wants Some!!

Director: Richard Linklater
Starring: Blake Jenner, Zoey Deutch, Ryan Guzman, Tyler Hoechlin, Glen Powell, Wyatt Russell, Temple Baker, J. Quinton Johnson, Will Brittain, Juston Street, Dora Madison Burge
Running Time: 116 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Richard Linklater has this gift of being able to extract meaning from what on the surface should seem like nothingness. It appears as if he's more interested in watching people hang out than plot, conflict or any kind of narrative structure we'd normally associate with crowd-pleasing movies like the one he's made. Even its jarringly punctuated title, Everybody Wants Some!!, doesn't seem to mean anything aside from the obvious Van Halen shout-out, or at least means as less as its previous working title, That's What I'm Talking About. It would be all too easy to write this off as a self-indulgent nostalgia trip for its director, who chose as a follow-up to his recently Best Picture-nominated Boyhood, a movie centering around a bunch of 80's college jocks looking to get as drunk, laid and stoned as possible in the last days before classes start. And yet, it's still strangely wonderful.

This has been Linklater's specialty, dating all the way back to 1993's Dazed and Confused, to which this will be most closely compared, and for good reason, since he's labeled this its "spiritual sequel." That's a good way to put it as the tie that binds both (besides their period settings and autobiographical angle) is that laid-back, fly-on-the-wall quality of watching authentic characters hang out, only to realize by the end how much you've grown to care about them. It's the opposite of self-indulgent, as it never really asks you think or feel anything and the beats of its bare bones story hardly register as it's unfolding. You just watch and listen, losing yourself in it.

Working also as the perfect follow-up to the experimentally significant Boyhood, it picks up at the same life stage, only with entirely new characters and set in a different era. Carrying with it the same sense of almost improvisational spontaneity that's become Linklater's calling card, you rarely feel your strings being pulled.  And of course, the soundtrack rocks. If there are certain filmmakers who need to spread their wings and branch out in different directions, he's definitely not among them. Not when he does this so well.

The year is 1980 and college freshman Jake (Blake Jenner) has arrived at the off-campus house he'll be sharing with the other players on the Southeast Texas State University baseball team. A star pitcher in high school, he's now suddenly the small fish in a much larger pond, a reserved, quiet guy surrounded by teammates from different walks of life, each with wildly distinctive personalities. There's team captain McReynolds (Tyler Hoechlin), the best player and seemingly the only one with legitimate major league potential; Jake's roommate, Billy "Beuter" Autry (Will Brittain), a farmboy with a girlfriend back home; Scheming, intellectual pick-up artist, Finnegan (Glen Powell), who's often the ringleader of a group that also includes fellow party animals Roper (Ryan Guzman), Dale (J. Quinton Johnson) Plummer (Temple Baker) and Brumley (Tanner Kalina). There are also two tranfer students with completely unhinged pro-level pitcher, Jay (Juston Street) and bearded, stoned philosopher Willoughby (Wyatt Russell).

Upon their arrival, the coach promptly lays down two rules: No alcohol in the house and no women upstairs. Within 12 hours, both are broken and whatever superficial differences these teammates have evaporate in their united quest to attain both, finding them party hopping in search of the wildest time. What Jake finds instead is Beverly (Zoey Deutch), a quirky theater student with whom he connects on a level that's far different than what his new friends are experiencing. As he comes out of his shell and the guys take him in as one of their own, there's still that looming issue of classes beginning in a matter of days, and while they might be too stoned, drunk or hung over to notice it right now, the rest of their lives are about to start.

Considering this is a movie about a college baseball team, there's only one extended sequence late that takes place on the field. It's worth noting that section works really well because so much quality time is spent with all these personalities beforehand. We're either at the house, in the car prowling for girls or at a nightclub or party from the minute we're introduced to the team. It's one of those movies that will have detractors complaining that "nothing happens" throughout its running time. To an extent, they'd be right since so little occurs in terms of actual action, at least as we're accustomed to seeing it in a coming-of-age comedic drama like this. But it's also a movie where everything happens since Linklater has the ability to capture what's it's like just hanging around, and in talking about seemingly innocuous things, revealing more than any manufactured conflict would. Much of that can be attributed to the casting, with a group of little known actors who so believably slide into the skin of these early 80's jocks that leave little doubt that we're watching or listening to anyone other than the authentic article.

As the protagonist, Jake (serviceably played by Jenner) might be the least compelling character, if only because he's our entranceway into a world where everything seems to be happening around and to him, dragged along for the ride, but quickly adapting. The movie really belongs to Glen Powell as Finnegan who steals every scene in a way reminiscent of Matthew McConaughey's big breakout in Dazed and Confused. He's goofy when necessary, but the smartest and most cunning of the bunch, frequently infusing the story with a surprisingly amount of pathos. It's when he's on screen (which is nearly the entire running length) and eventually when Zoey Deutch enters the picture as Jake's love interest, Beverly, that the movie feels most alive and real. The scenes between them carry a realistic Before Sunrise-like vibe that not only takes the film to an entirely different and welcome place thematically, but to a new setting as well, with the jocks finding themselves at an artsy costume party thrown by the theater students. This entire sequence, and it's results, represent the movie's high-water mark, both visually and in terms of its meaning for the characters.

Whether it's that party, or a punk concert earlier, there's this idea so perfectly captured by Linklater that the social barriers present in high school now cease to exist in this four-year universe where everyone can indiscriminately go from party to party adapting to a different crowd and taking on new identities. And despite the script being a semi-personalized account of his own college experiences and undoubtedly conjuring up memories for those with similar ones, he manages to show this without relying exclusively on nostalgia. Sure, the period details such as the costuming, production design and music are spot-on, but it's just there because we are, rarely drawing attention to itself or stopping for conversations that unnecessarily remind us the era we're in.

In the midst of all this, it also manages to be genuinely funny, and not in the frat boy, toilet humor kind of way the trailers falsely implied. Many of the gags and one-liners are smart, playing off the characters' personality quirks and absurdity of various situations, which is becoming increasingly hard to do well in an R-rated comedy. At nearly two hours, there's a strong argument to be made certain scenes needed tightening and trimming, but that's almost always the case of late. At least here we're given extra time with people worth spending it with. And it would all probably play even better upon a rewatch, as there's a hypnotizing quality about this that practically invites it. Something about it is hard to shake, suggesting a lengthy shelf life for both the film and careers of its stars.

It's tempting to say Linklater's recent work invites comparisons to Cameron Crowe due to the increasingly autobiographical nature of his output, but that's not entirely accurate since he's never been as transparent a filmmaker. This will turn some people off, while others appreciate his dedication to showing instead of telling, wearing us down to the point that we're forced to admit he's on to something with these characters, some of whom may or may not strike a chord of recollection in our own lives. And it's because of his almost maddeningly laid-back approach that the ending feels so right, revealing an unexpected depth that further justifies the film's existence. It's only when considering a key character's name and the phrase written in class in the final scene, that we realize how true the tagline is that they "came for a good time, not a long time."