May December

Director: Todd Haynes 
Starring: Natalie Portman, Julianne Moore, Charles Melton, Cory Michael Smith, Elizabeth Yu, Gabriel Chung, Piper Curda, D.W. Moffett, Lawrence Arancio
Running Time: 117 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

Part soapy melodrama, part psychological character study, Todd Haynes' gripping May December should have no business working as well as it does. And it already had a lot to overcome by being more than loosely based on the infamous case of Mary Kay Letourneau, the 36-year-old teacher who in 1996 initiated a sexual relationship with her sixth grade student, Vili Fualaau. Serving two separate prison sentences, she'd bare two of his children, eventually marrying him upon her release. Knowing that helps, but it isn't everything, as Haynes uses some of those details as his jumping off point. 

Walking a tightrope in tone, the filmmaker skillfully swings between scenes of high camp and human tragedy, with hardly a moment passing where you don't worry the entire endeavor will go as horribly wrong as the characters' lives. But while specializing in his own unique brand of cinematic discomfort, Haynes has a plan, infusing this over-the-top material with sincerity and harsh emotional truths, rarely losing sight of the surrounding sensationalism.

It's 2015 and actress Elizabeth Berry (Natalie Portman) arrives in Savannah, Georgia to research her upcoming role as Gracie Atherton-Yoo (Julianne Moore), a woman arrested in 1992 for having sex with her son's 13-year-old classmate Joe at the pet store she managed. Now decades after serving her jail time, this same boy is Gracie's husband (Charles Melton) and they're parents of graduating teen twins Charlie (Gabriel Chung) and Mary (Elizabeth Yu), and a college-aged daughter, Honor (Piper Curda). Elizabeth interviews the controversial couple, also meeting with Gracie's neighbors, exes and family, all of whom reveal more about her history and current standing within the community. 

Baking and selling cakes out of her home, Gracie's insulated herself from the past while Joe works an unfulfilling job as an X-ray technician, spending his free time rearing monarch butterflies. But despite her professionalism and gratitude, Elizabeth's presence unnerves Gracie, whose hospitality masks a frustrated annoyance. For Joe, the actress's questioning unearths painful feelings and memories, shining a disturbing light on the true nature of he and his wife's relationship. It's a revelation neither can handle, even as Elizabeth's obsessive commitment to the role makes her question everything she assumes to know about them and herself.

Believing she did nothing wrong and burying away whatever feelings of guilt or shame once existed, Gracie's compartmentalized her actions, too far entrenched in her own lies for any news article or strange looks in town to make a difference. Now occupying what seems like her own universe, the self-denial seems to have only grown stronger in the years since her arrest.

After awkwardly getting along with her unwanted guest at first, cracks in Gracie's personality emerge when Elizabeth starts gathering information from Gracie's ex-husband Tom (D.W. Moffett) and troubled son Georgie (Cory Michael Smith). Moore hits just the right notes here, cluing us in that enough is off with Gracie that even those unfamiliar with her crime can still spot the red flags. Composed one minute, crying the next, Moore gives these passive aggressive peeks into of the type of monster you'd typically associate with abusers. It's even evident in Gracie's interactions with her own daughter, who she subtly but cruelly denigrates.

Elizabeth's research opens the floodgates, poking holes in Gracie's carefully cultivated facade and putting her on alert. And Portman's performance is that much more impressive for what it holds back than reveals, particularly regarding Elizabeth's opinions about this entire situation. There's a detached objectivity at first, but as they talk, you see the changes in not only how Elizabeth views the part, but what it's doing to her. Of course, you also can't help but notice the meta layer to this, as audiences won't be able to resist projecting perceptions of Portman the movie star onto the character.

From all indications, Elizabeth's a moderately famous actress, though not necessarily respected, even by her own admission. With that void to fill, she takes this research very seriously, talking to all the right people, asking good questions and meticulously shadowing Gracie and Joe. It's through these interactions that certain details spill, with Gracie bending over backwards to spin her marriage to Joe as "true love." But as these lies grow, it provides Elizabeth with even more backstory for the part, potentially impairing her ability to approach the role without judgment.

Does Elizabeth despise or idolize Gracie? Is she repulsed by the couple's relationship or turned on by it? Is she she being manipulated or is she the manipulator? Could she be after Joe? Or maybe none of that's true and she's simply an extremely committed actress. Her speech to the high school drama class about morally ambiguous characters indicates as much. Portman's rarely been better in this performance within a performance, tying us in knots wondering where the actress begins and character ends. It's exemplified by her chilling monologue into the mirror and those four devastating words she utters in the last act that just might qualify as the line delivery of the year.

Charles Melton's Joe represses a hurt that bubbles to the surface the more he's reminded what really happened to him. Gracie's more his parent than spouse, and not just because of the age difference. Barely a functioning husband or father, he's a 13-year-old boy trapped in a man's body, unable to mature or move forward while sleeping next to his abuser for the better part of 23 years. Melton is shattering as this stunted adult crying on his own teen son's shoulder, offering up a different, eye-opening take on the long-term effects of sexual abuse, regardless of gender.

Hazily but beautifully shot by Christopher Blauvelt to resemble a mid-afternoon 80's TV miniseries, Marcelo Zarvos' haunting score (adapted from Michel LeGrand's music from 1971's The Go-Between) may as well be the fourth character, with rich, distinctive melodies that build atmospheric tension throughout. Fitting so well precisely because it doesn't, this clash only heightens the film's sense of uneasiness and dread. 

Actors playing actors can often come across as gimmicky, but Portman's intriguing, multi-layered turn proves a huge exception, easily representing her strongest work since Black Swan. It's also inseparable from Moore's take on a damaged, deluded character who faces renewed exposure after decades of protecting herself from the irreversible damage she's caused. With them, Haynes transforms a story that could have been the epitome of tabloid trash into an intensely watchable, thought provoking experience.           

Oppenheimer

Director: Christopher Nolan
Starring: Cillian Murphy, Emily Blunt, Matt Damon, Robert Downey Jr., Florence Pugh, Josh Hartnett, Casey Affleck, Rami Malek, Kenneth Branagh, Benny Safdie, Jason Clarke, Dylan Arnold, Tom Conti, James D'Arcy, Dane DeHaan, Alden Ehrenreich, David Krumholtz, Matthew Modine, Scott Grimes, Alex Wolff, Michael Angarano, Macon Blair, Jack Quaid, Josh Peck, Olivia Thirbly, James Remar, Gary Oldman
Running Time: 181 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)     

With Oppenheimer, writer/director Christopher Nolan takes what many might consider an unusual route in examining the "father of the atomic bomb." Jumping between timelines, framing the narrative around two significant court hearings and shifting from black and white to color, this isn't your standard historical biopic. And yet it is, surreally using its subject's life to explore deeper, further reaching consequences that linger to this day. Adapted from the 2005 biography "American Prometheus" and clocking in at a gargantuan three hours, Nolan doesn't hold back in examining the string of events surrounding disgraced American physicist J. Robert Oppenheimer's eventual loss of national security clearance in 1954.

While a fair amount of the story's energy is poured into the actual development of Oppenheimer's weapon of mass destruction, it's primarily gripping prologue, preparing us for the controversy to come. It isn't until his idea becomes a reality that he discovers the moral complications and lack of control he'll have over its use. You can chalk this up to hubris or naivety as his concerns aren't merely dismissed, but savagely ripped apart, leaving the renowned physicist's reputation smeared. History may have partially corrected that, but the most unsettling aspect is how it happened to begin with.

It's 1926 when American-born 22 year-old theoretical physics student J. Robert Oppenheimer (Cillian Murphy) studies at Cambridge before completing his PhD in Germany and returns to the states to teach quantum physics in California. While on the West Coast he befriends a group of U.S. Communist Party members, getting entangled in romantic relationships with troubled psychiatrist Jean Tatlock (Florence Pugh) and his eventual wife, biologist Kitty Puening (Emily Blunt). But everything changes once he's approached by General Leslie Groves (Matt Damon) in the midst of World War II.

With the Nazis and Russia suspected of working on a nuclear arms program, Oppenheimer is recruited by Groves in 1942 to lead the Manhattan Project dedicated to developing an atomic bomb. Joined by a team of scientists including good friend Isidor Isaac Rabbi (David Krumholtz) and the brilliant but disagreeable Edward Teller (Benny Safdie), Oppenheimer and his crew work around the clock in Los Alamos, New Mexico to prepare for a dangerous test detonation. As Oppenheimer's consumed with guilt over President Truman's (Gary Oldman) decision to bomb Japan into surrender, longtime rival and Energy Commission chairman Lewis Strauss (Robert Downey Jr.) schemes, pulling political strings to sideline the scientist.  

Non-linear as the film's structure appears, it actually follows a strict chronology that begins with Oppenheimer's academic years and continues through Los Alamos and beyond. There's a lengthy emphasis on his education, marveling under the learning tree of intellectual idols like Kenneth Branagh's Nobel winning physicist Niels Bohr. These early scenes, along with his personal troubles with wife Kitty and unhinged mistress Jean seem off-putting at first, but it adds up, as does his affiliation with communists. Nolan's pretty even handed with this, neither downplaying Oppenheimer's tangential involvement or how that association will be weaponized to later take him down. 

All roads lead to the 1945 Trinity A-bomb test, building up a huge amount of suspense and intrigue for the blast that clears the path for Truman's bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. While the catastrophic event itself isn't depicted, the script doesn't shy away from questioning whether Japan would have  surrendered without such extreme measures. And no one's more ambivalent than the tortured Oppenheimer, who becomes painfully aware of the door he just opened and its horrifying ramifications. 

The film's most powerful scene comes when Oppenheimer delivers a speech to an audience full of scientists and military wildly cheering their hero for ending the war. But what he sees instead are bright, blinding lights and faces of burning flesh in the crowd that will haunt him long after the celebratory magazine profiles fade. Jennifer Lame's editing and Ludwig Göransson's score provide constant, palpable tension throughout, but never more than during this sequence, which signals the psychological battle he'll now be fighting within himself.

Supposedly, the feud between Mozart and Salieri in Amadeus served as Nolan's inspiration for Lewis Strauss's hate and jealousy fueled vendetta against Oppenheimer, which is mostly one-sided. By orchestrating a predetermined sham of a hearing for his opponent, Strauss ends up revealing more about the integrity of those testifying than the accused. But between Oppenheimer's womanizing and communist links, it's not hard to discredit him, even if a worse humiliation comes while meeting with Truman, who mocks his concerns. When given the choice of falling in line or getting out of the way, he picks neither, losing his country instead. 

Cillian Murphy has played his fair share of villains and creeps, but Oppenheimer, while eccentrically flawed and narcissistic, isn't exactly that, if only because his intense regret is enough to qualify him as having a conscience. But he still did what he did and spends the rest of his days grappling with it, leaving the gravest risk to humanity in the hands of a potentially irresponsible government.

Through that lens, it's easy to view Oppenheimer as a hopelessly reckless, but the pull of Murphy's performance is that he plays him as nearly impenetrable and impossible to read right up until the enormity of what's happened sinks in. And with his sunken, hollowed face and darting eyes, the eeriest aspect to his casting is how an actor with such an unusually unmistakable look manages to be a physical dead ringer for the man himself. 

Strauss' 1959 Senate confirmation hearing for Eisenhower's Secretary of Commerce position proves to be a referendum on the former shoe salesman's shady dealings and Oppenheimer's last shot at any kind of redemption. Downey's brilliance peaks here, revealing he was actually this good at being bad the entire time, only now allowing us to catch on. The rest of this loaded cast is packed with big names filling what would otherwise be considered small, throwaway roles under the guidance of a lesser director. Some are seamlessly interwoven into the plot's fabric while others are briefly written off until reappearing later to make massive contributions. 

Matt Damon steals a portion of the film with his gravitas as the hard-nosed, practical Gen. Groves while brief, strong turns also come from Josh Hartnett and Rami Malek as physicists Ernest Lawrence and David Hill, Jason Clarke as hearing attorney Roger Robb, Casey Affleck as military intelligence officer Boris Pash, and most notably, Alden Eidenreich as Strauss' unnamed fictional aide who becomes increasingly disillusioned with his boss. Blunt isn't given tons to do as Kitty, but she nails the heavily factual interpretation, right down to her pivotal testimony ripped directly from the transcripts. Pugh makes an even larger impression with far less screen time, bringing a desperate instability and magnetic seductiveness to Jean, who's constantly a step away from falling off the deep end.

With a fairly restrained use of CGI and an emphasis on more practical effects, the only small complaint is some questionable old age makeup in the last act that's still less distracting than any digitized approach, especially in a period piece. But the film deserves major credit for what's probably the best use of Albert Einstein (magnificently played by Scottish actor Tom Conti) we've seen in a historical drama. There's this clever mystery surrounding the professional bond he shares with Oppenheimer that requires both more and less unpacking than you'd initially assume. And that's especially true of their unforgettable final scene.  

Cold and detached, this is still surprisingly accessible, with everything locking into place for Nolan in ways it hasn't before. Plagued by anxiety and impending doom, we watch the scientist simmer from the inside, realizing his greatest innovation could very well destroy the world. And that enormous weight is thrust onto viewers, making Oppenheimer a challenge to fully absorb in just a single watch, where you can only begin to unravel its numerous implications.

Nyad

Directors: Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi and Jimmy Chin
Starring: Annette Bening, Jodie Foster, Rhys Ifans, Karly Rothenberg, Jeena Yi, Luke Cosgrove, Eric T. Miller, Garland Scott 
Running Time: 120 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

It isn't long into Netflix's sports biopic Nyad when we realize record breaking long-distance swimmer Diana Nyad has that same competitive itch most world class athletes can't seem to scratch, even long after retirement. Many are initially plagued by second thoughts for walking away, realizing later time will always catch up. In that respect, Diana's urge to return at age 64 to finish what she couldn't decades earlier isn't surprising. But the impossibility of her goal is, regardless of age, gender or physical conditioning. She can complete this grueling 110 mile swim from Cuba to Florida because failure isn't an option, even as her stubbornness and oversized ego frustrate those helping make it happen.

The burden Diana carries to be the best is heavy, and as pieces of her troubled past are shown in fleeting glimpses, that desire starts making more sense. Attempting this swim still seems crazy, but we get it, and much of why rests on Annette Bening's performance in the title role, which is defined by her willingness to explore unlikable places with Diana's prickly personality. Bening specializes in steely, determined parts, but the sports psychology angle here really distinguishes it, as does her pairing with fellow acting icon Jodie Foster, who's arguably even better in a welcome, exciting departure.

Shortly after her 60th birthday, former marathon swimmer and ABC "Wide World of Sports" correspondent  Diana Nyad (Bening) shocks longtime best friend Bonnie Stoll (Foster) by announcing plans to begin training for the brutal Cuba-Florida swim she failed to finish in the late 70's. With the assistance of a steel shark cage, she veered off course, eventually taken out of the water after nearly 42 hours. A reluctant Bonnie agrees to coach Diana, but it's soon clear this is as much a battle against nature's uncontrollable elements as it is a test of the latter's drive and limitations. 

Looking to avoid previous pitfalls, Bonnie recruits grizzled navigational expert John Bartlett (Rhys Ifans) and an entire team of divers and scientific experts given the thankless task of providing the defiant Diana guidance she doesn't want or listen to. Unsurprisingly, this isn't a feat she'll be able to accomplish her first try, or maybe any of them, but for her there's no quitting until reaching the Florida shore.

As someone who sucks up all the air in the room, Diana has to humble herself enough to let the people around her actually do their jobs. In that sense, five attempts at this seems about right, even if few athletes would have the endurance to withstand one. Compellingly, the notion is presented that Diana could be more mentally equipped to do this now than in her physical prime due to experience and motivation that only comes with age. Of course, this sounds great until you're in the water and all the damaging effects begin to take hold.

On top of unmanageable tides, volatile weather patterns, sharks and deadly box jellyfish, Diana must contend with physical challenges and hallucinations her famished, dehydrated mind conjures up. With a collection of familiar 60's music comprising the playlist in her head and clad in a custom silicon face mask and suit, she's flanked by numerous boats and a professional medic. The nighttime scenes are most effective, creating a sense of isolating terror despite the fact she's hardly alone out there. It isn't lost on anyone she could die at any moment, her odds only worsening with each subsequent try. During this, flashbacks of a traumatic childhood event are cut in, informing the woman she'd later become.

Dina's penchant for exaggerating her already impressive accomplishments is a flaw Foster's Bonnie pushes back against, calling out the swimmer's self-centeredness and aversion to the truth. Aside from that, Julia Cox's screenplay is mostly reverent in its depiction, as Bening and Foster naturally play off each other, conveying the rhythms of lifelong friends incapable of sugarcoating anything. Whatever Diana dishes out, Bonnie gives right back, with Foster doing great work as a warm but no-nonsense voice of reason. Rhys Ifans also impresses as an exasperated navigator more than willing to put Diana in her place when necessary.     

Uplifting as it is, Nyad isn't a game-changer, but goes down easily under the skilled direction of Oscar-winning Free Solo helmers Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi and Jimmy Chin. But unlike that documentary, this narrative feature about going to extremes will probably play better for those unaware of the end result and ensuing controversy. That the 2013 swim is noticeably absent from the record books is a detail the film doesn't touch for obvious reasons, instead showing real footage of Diana's media appearances over the closing credits. But even as all the attempts at completing this achievement sometimes keeps the action stuck in repetitive mode, it succeeds by emphasizing the failure and tireless work that led her there.                                                  

Dumb Money

Director: Craig Gillespie
Starring: Paul Dano, Pete Davidson, Vincent D'Onofrio, America Ferrera, Myha'la Herrold, Nick Offerman, Anthony Ramos, Seth Rogen, Talia Ryder, Sebastian Stan, Shailene Woodley, Kate Burton, Clancy Brown, Dane DeHaan, Olivia Thirlby, Deniz Akdeniz
Running Time: 104 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

If The Social Network and The Big Short had a baby, you'd think it would probably resemble Craig Gillespie's Dumb Money, which begins hecticly, with numerous characters, real news footage, viral videos and a plot that seems destined to be more convoluted than necessary. But this adaptation of Ben Mezrich's bestseller detailing the infamous GameStop stock squeeze has a method of delivery we haven't exactly seen yet. A full-blown 2021 period piece, it succeeds by immersing viewers in the chaotic headspace of its players during that challenging year. It's the film's ace in the hole, dropping us in an easily recognizable universe that still feels jarring despite its recency.

Gillespie and writers Lauren Schuker Blum and Rebecca Angelo clear a high creative hurdle by framing this very specific event in a larger context, with those involved becoming inseparable from the madness surrounding them. Even when taking wild detours, it really grows on you, picking up steam by balancing some clever laughs with dramatic heart. But unlike the aforementioned Big Short, this doesn't assume audiences won't get it, instead telling an easily digestible story that works regardless of how familiar you are with the intricacies of what actually happened. And at its center is a likably eccentric Paul Dano performance that earns respect and sympathy for the brainy instigator behind this financial hysteria.

It's June 2020 at the height of the COVID-19 pandemic when Massachusetts-based financial analyst Keith Gill (Dano) streams his stock market picks on YouTube under the name "Roaring Kitty" and posts on the WallStreetBets subreddit. After noticing the drop in fledgling video game retailer GameStop's stock, Keith pours all his savings into it, drawing eye rolls from his underachieving brother Kevin (Pete Davidson) and colleague Briggsy (Deniz Akdeniz). But assuming the chain will close, hedge fund firms like Gabe Plotkin's (Seth Rogen) have been short selling the stock, causing a price increase, as Keith's online followers pounce and start buying. 

Those buyers include financially struggling nurse Jennifer (America Ferrera), lesbian college couple Riri (Myha'la Herrold) and Harmony (Talia Ryder) and GameStop employee Marcos (Anthony Ramos). With the stock continuing to rise and investment CEOs losing millions by the day, Wall Street and the entire country take notice, with Keith emerging as a middle class hero to the masses. Scraping by to help provide for his wife Caroline (Shailene Woodley) and newborn baby, selling at the right time could make him a millionaire, but that becomes complicated when influential financial firms and the government start to catch on.

The film opens with a bang before going backwards, showing how this cat-obsessed vlogger rides a hunch based on experience and knowledge, in the process accomplishing what no one else was crazy enough to try. While you can quibble with how the script depicts him as a clueless nerd who stumbles onto a plan that was probably more calculated in reality, Dano's so engaging in the role it hardly matters. Once he was cast, it had to go in this direction, as the actor so accurately channels the type of quirky, painfully honest personality that catches fire on social media. 

Gillespsie's recreations of the headband, tie dye wearing Keith's videos are rivaled only by his take on the guru's loyal subscribers, who we follow through a series of individual side stories, none of which get the short shrift. They're all either financially struggling, excited about the risk or looking to screw over these greedy CEOs. Once this crack in the system is exploited, legal questions arise, as do ethical ones related to the tactics of Rogen, Nick Offerman and Vincent D'Onofrio's billionaires. They arguably opened the door for this and the eventual damage inflicted by Robinhood's shady chairman Vlad Tenev (Sebastian Stan), whose attempts to stop the bleeding land him in the government's crosshairs.

Much of the film's immediacy stems from its pandemic timeline, allowing the opportunity to capture these working people struggling in a stressed economy they're on the bottom rung of. But unlike other projects that very reluctantly covered the era with kid gloves, this has the conviction to visualize its effect on everyday life, masks and all. Scenes with the buyers play almost as episodic vignettes with Gillespie jumping from one character to the next, each bringing a different energy that helps unify the plot. 

As an essential worker at the end of her rope, America Ferrera might be even better here than in Barbie while Anthony Ramos' GameStop employee brings the laughs in a hilarious ongoing feud with his passive aggressive supervisor played by Dane DeHaan. Pete Davidson also knows exactly what to do, when, and how much as Keith's loud, irritating freeloader of a brother. At the other end of the spectrum is the latter's supportive but realistic wife Caroline, who Shailene Woodley plays with pragmatic perfection, offering up a necessary dose of reasonableness.  

There's a big speech lifted from Keith's actual hearing testimony that hits its mark in the final act and Dano's delivery makes it soar, driving home the point they were all cheating a rigged a game. Incorporating actual news footage, real message board posts and memes throughout, it's fun anticipating what happens to everyone involved, mainly because they all have such different endings, a few more favorable than others.

Those completely unaware or uninterested in the stock market can not only follow this, but should be hooked, knowing it touches on something bigger and more relatable than dollars and cents. Investment firms may have considered the general public "dumb money," but Gillespie's film is anything but, proving that whatever creative liberties taken resulted in a more entertaining version of actual events.    

The Killer

Director: David Fincher
Starring: Michael Fassbender, Tilda Swinton, Charles Parnell, Arliss Howard, Kerry O' Malley, Sophie Charlotte, Emiliano Pernía, Gabriel Polanco, Sala Baker, Endre Hules, Monique Ganderton
Running Time: 118 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

The title character in David Fincher's The Killer prides himself on not being sloppy, or at least that's what he'd have us believe, as this unnamed assassin painstakingly walks through the steps of his job with enough precision and synchronicity to make Dexter look like a clueless hack. Just take his word for it, with a hypnotic voice over narration that not only runs down his static routine, but the skills and life philosophy needed for it. "Stick to the plan." "Don't improvise, anticipate." "Trust no one." "Forbid empathy." 

While those mantras are repeated throughout as we hang on every word, many his actions will eventually contradict them. He has the pre-kill ritual down to a science, eating, practicing yoga, and listening to The Smiths while waiting for his heartbeat to drop under 65 beats per minute before pulling the trigger. There's no room for trepidation or errors, until he actually misses and the fallout causes him to make some unexpected adjustments. Out for the revenge he can't admit to craving while carrying a guilt he's incapable of expressing, it's suddenly personal now.  

The killer (Michael Fassbender) hauls up in any empty office building across the street from a Parisian hotel, preparing to take out his latest target with a sniper rifle. But despite his obsessive preparation, the job goes horribly wrong, causing him to fall out of favor with his handler Hodges (Charles Parnell). Fleeing the country, he arrives back at one of his secret homes in the Dominican Republic to find girlfriend Magdala (Sophie Charlotte) viciously attacked by assassins sent by Hodges to satisfy the client. 

With vengeance in mind, the killer sets his sights on those responsible for ordering and carrying out the attack, targeting Hodges himself, the thuggish "Brute" (Sala Baker) living in Florida, the New York-based "Expert" assassin (Tilda Swinton) and billionaire client Claybourne (Arliss Howard). The question now becomes whether he can remain as calm and coldly proficient in his technique when the stakes are this high.  

Following a quick but transfixing opening title sequence and that meticulous setup, the killer missing his target hits particularly hard given all the precautions taken in avoiding this exact scenario. Wearing his bucket hat and Hawaiian shirt, he informs us his disguise is that of an easily avoidable German tourist, acknowledging the impossibility of going unnoticed in this day and age, aiming instead to be unmemorable. And he is, with everyone too busy, distracted or self absorbed to notice there's a murderer in their midst, providing valuable cover from his increasing carelessness.

Because we're so fully immersed in the killer's procedure, it's only more jarring when the wheels fly off, causing him to step outside a very familiar comfort zone. The assault on his partner is turning point since he could have just disappeared under one of his many fake names (a great running gag), sheltering himself and her from any further fallout, never to be seen or heard from again. Instead, he opts for payback, evolving from someone who despises improvisation into the rashest of improvisers. Either way, it's apparent he's much better at this in his head than reality.

Anything that can go wrong almost does, and multiple times, especially during a spectacular mid-film fight where the target's fate takes a backseat to his probability of survival. It may have been a lie at the beginning, but now the killer truly doesn't care, his recklessness most evident when confronting Tilda Swinton's previously untouchable assassin. Their extended one-sided conversation is the closest he gets to any kind of emotional connection, as it nearly breaks him discovering just how similar they actually are. 

The only quality differentiating him from Swinton's character is her ability to enjoy what appears to be a normal life in plain sight, free from the idiosyncrasies he leans on to do the job. She may have been worse at it this time, but it's not lost on him that their roles could have easily been reversed. And she won't let him forget that, regardless of her fate. None of his targets should really stand a chance since they're loose ends, but the unthinkable notion someone could be spared creeps through the further off course he veers, discovering buried pieces of himself along the way. 

Fassbender drolly delivers the unreliable but endlessly quotable voiceover, while also allowing each little movement, twitch and expression to do all the talking when he's not. An ideal fit for such oddly specific material, he quietly plays this without so much as a shred of humanity, squashing any chances the character will be experiencing any kind of epiphany or redemption.

Clinical to a fault, Fincher's chief interest lies in the process itself, with help from cinematographer Erik Messerschmidt's impressive location shooting, a propulsive, anxiety inducing score from Trent Rezor and Atticus Ross and a Smiths' soundtrack that humorously clashes with what unfolds. There isn't an ounce of excess fat here, with every scene and episodic stretch visually advancing Se7en writer Andrew Kevin Walker's script. Fincher's best in years, it also shares some of the same thematic elements of technical obsession contained in Zodiac and his brilliant but prematurely cancelled Mindhunter Netflix series.

The Killer is about a perfectionist suddenly left twisting in the wind, more desperate than ever to maintain his illusion of control. Skirting the line between genre exercise and art film, every move he makes feels compulsively purposeful, causing many to cite it as the definitive commentary on Fincher's own work. But it's also thoroughly rewatchable, finding the master again in top form, filling each frame with an abundance of details viewers experience entirely through the eyes and mind of an assassin who might be too fastidious for his own good.

Infinity Pool

Director: Brandon Cronenberg
Starring: Alexander Skarsgård, Mia Goth, Cleopatra Coleman, Jalil Lespert, Amanda Brugel, John Ralston, Jeffrey Ricketts, Caroline Boulton, Thomas Kretschmann
Running Time: 118 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

Following Mia Goth's bizarrely brilliant turns in X and Pearl, many wondered what would be next for one of the most compulsively watchable actresses working today. Of course, we always knew it would be something unhinged and off-the-wall, making Brandon Cronenberg's disturbing Infinity Pool the ideal follow-up for her. Goth may be the best reason to see it, but there are others, as this stylistically made, psychedelic journey into human depravity begins normally enough to hide the fact it comes from the mind behind 2020's twisted, even more ambitious Possessor. 

With a reach often extending its grasp, what starts as a psychological thriller flies off the rails in mixing body horror with social satire, exploring original ideas that wouldn't seem out of place in a season of Black Mirror. Skewering the wealthy on screen has become increasingly derivative of late, but a high concept sets this apart, successfully overcoming its sometimes uneven execution. Almost equal parts awful and exhilarating, this isn't an easy one to take.  

Novelist James Foster (Alexander Skarsgård) and his wife Em (Cleopatra Coleman) are vacationing in the fictional seaside country of Li Tolqa as he seeks inspiration for his next novel. At the resort, Gabi (Goth), an admitted fan of James' work invites him and Em to dinner with her husband Alban (Jalil Lespert). After hitting it off, the four spend the next day driving in the country side when James accidentally runs over and kills a local. Gabi warns it's too dangerous to call the corrupt police department, only for James to later be apprehended and interrogated by Detective Thresh (Thomas Kretschmann).

Death is the punishment for James' offense, but this country has a unique method for dealing with criminals, enabling the perpetrator to walk away while the government lines its pockets. It turns out he'll have to witness an execution where he'll see his duplicate murdered instead. Released but hardly free, a traumatized James soon finds himself part of a club consisting of criminal tourists who shared the same experience. Indoctrinated by the mysterious, seductive Gabi, he'll soon fall into a dark world of orgies, hallucinogenics and violence from which there's no return.

Its setup distracts viewers into thinking this will be some sort of erotic drama, with an early emphasis on the strain in James and Em's unbalanced relationship. That she comes from money and her father's literary connections enabled him to get his flop of a novel published is a particular bone of contention. Between this and Gabi's aggressive flirting, it's safe to assume where we're going, until Cronenberg pulls the rug out, using the accident as a gateway into headier territory that goes well beyond the bad habits of bougie vacationers. 

This notion of someone having to watch the murder of their double suggests even deeper implications than the film has the capacity to fully examine. Still, Cronenberg does quite a job, going so far as to present this life altering experience as a twisted form of addictive entertainment. And casting Skarsgård was a masterstroke since he's the last actor anyone associates with characters this helplessly insecure or pathetic. James is so miserable that watching his own death feels like an escape, before eventually proving to be the ultimate release. And that's when the real sentencing for his crime begins. 

Whether these people did witness their clones' murders or are actually the doubles themselves are the kinds of existential questions the film's best at exploring. But when James becomes immersed in the hedonistic practices of Gabi's group, the lines between nightmare and reality blur, with volatile consequences. Some viewers might feel like abandoning ship when the gang (clad in grotesque Twilight Zone inspired masks) run roughshod over unsuspecting victims in a primitive display of violence and nudity that invokes A Clockwork Orange or Eyes Wide Shut. 

The last half of the movie is a mess, but a compelling one, as the tables turn when Goth's chaotic performance takes the wheel. From quirky, mysterious English hotel guest to wide-eyed, unpredictable lunatic, she gives a tour de force, somehow still managing to shock and mesmerize in the kind of role we've grown accustomed to her nailing. And yet it's also a complete departure, providing the perfect foil to a shaken, lower-key Skarsgård, whose whose inner animal is literally and figuratively unleashed during his character's ugly descent. 

This is strong sci-fi if you can withstand the copious amounts of practical gore and explicit sex acts that monopolize the last third of the picture, occasionally to its detriment. While leaving less to ponder than you'd expect given its rich premise, this does further establish Cronenberg as a unique visionary whose best filmmaking days are ahead. And that's not such a bad thing since Infinity Pool still comes with his eccentric, skin crawling stamp affixed. After a while you just surrender to its detours and imperfections, knowing that's the price for venturing into these wild waters.              

Fair Play

Director: Chloe Dumont
Starring: Phoebe Dynevor, Alden Ehrenreich, Eddie Marsan, Rich Sommer, Sebastian de Souza, Sia Alipour, Brandon Bassir, Geraldine Somerville, Patrick Fischler
Running Time: 113 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Chloe Dumont's thought provoking psychological thriller Fair Play starts with one of the more unusual marriage proposal scenes you'll see, largely indicative of the chaos and sexually charged turmoil that follows. It's all downhill for this couple from there as a major job promotion suddenly challenges everything they think and feel about each other. But the most intriguing aspect of Dumont's debut feature is how it suggests anything else could easily have been the trigger. It just so happens to be a seemingly pleasant surprise that unravels their relationship, exposing him for who he is as she struggles to hold herself together.

In a perfect world, fiancés and spouses would be entirely supportive of their partner's accomplishments, chalking it up as a team win. And yet from the moment we meet this entirely relatable couple, it's clear they're built a little differently, though cut from a similar cloth. Both are competitive, highly ambitious financiers working together in a pressure cooker environment where one decision can push you out the door or into a comfy corner office with a raise. Everything revolves around what you've done lately, any misery balanced out by the monetary benefits. She's the better end of the deal, especially as his sanity gradually slips away, culminating in a finale where only one can be left standing. 

Emily Myers (Phoebe Dynevor) and Luke Edmonds (Alden Ehrenreich) are analysts at the high-powered Manhattan hedge fund One Crest Capital and recently engaged, keeping their romantic relationship secret from co-workers. Despite rumors Luke may be replacing a recently fired portfolio manager, Emily is informed by the firm's cutthroat CEO Campbell (Eddie Marsan) that she'll be receiving that promotion instead. 

After initially offering his congratulations, Luke's jealously surfaces, putting a serious strain on their relationship as he continues to obsess over advancing his career, potentially at Emily's expense. Even her attempts to advocate for Luke backfire when it's clear just how little the higher-ups think of him, potentially numbering his days at the firm. Filled with guilt and uncertainty, Emily forges forward as Luke's erratic behavior threatens to destroy their relationship and careers. 

Ehrenreich does a masterful job portraying Luke as completely diminished by Emily's promotion, seemingly overnight made to feel three quarters less of a man than he thought. Never mind that she runs circles around him and everyone else at the firm, he takes it personally, as if her advancement is the ultimate betrayal. It also speaks volumes that his first excuse and allegation is that she must have slept her way to the top or gotten the job due to being a woman. 

Over the course of the film we realize just how little Luke's allegations mean, and not just because her performance is head and shoulders above her co-workers. Because the firm appears to be such an exclusive men's club, it's hard to believe they're just granting women unearned promotions when the financial stakes are this high. And if they wanted to ogle Emily or treat her as their "hooker" as Luke insinuates, it would have been easier to dish out that harassment when she was an analyst. Played by a great Eddie Marsan, the intimidating Campbell is an egomaniac, but he clearly promotes Emily for all the right reasons, revealing Luke's shortcomings and insecurities as the problem. 

This kind of three-dimensional shading of the characters is why Dumont's script works so well, as Luke gaslights Emily with terrible advice, backhanded compliments and even leverages her into helping him while pretending to be insulted by the gesture. Desperately clinging to a self-help guru to improve his standing, he casually tears Emily down, planting doubts in her head about how she looks, acts and dresses. Lingering in the back of our minds is what could happen if he totally snaps, exposing their relationship and blowing up everything she's worked for.

To a degree, Dumont seems to sympathize with Luke's plight while Ehrenreich subtly turns the volume up and down on Luke's behavior at just the right moments, keeping him out of sociopathic territory as long and believably as he can. It's easily the best performance he's ever given, making you wonder if reactions to Disney's Solo would have been the same if he was permitted to give us a little darker, more roguish version of the title character. He was better there than most acknowledged, but this confirms he may have been more stifled than originally believed. 

Even better is English actress Dynevor, who unexpectedly shifts gears when Emily's forced to quickly toughen up and overcome Luke's escalating mind games. It's her journey and that the two have such an intense physical connection further complicates matters, establishing how sex is as important to the equation as office or gender politics. This proves especially true in the controversial last act, prompting us to second guess whatever we assumed was obvious. 

Superior to the trashy, erotic 90's thrillers to which it's being compared, Fair Play is sleek and suspenseful, with Dumont's depiction of the finance world and tight screenplay solidifying it as more than a mere guilty pleasure. And with workplace scenes that invite comparisons to the underappreciated Margin Call, it effectively exposes the types of characters that populate such a setting. What happens isn't beyond the realm of plausibility in toxic relationships, but amped up, making for a gripping, insightful trip into the psyche of someone whose entire identity hinges on power and control.