Battle of the Sexes (***1/2)

The 1973 tennis match between Bobby Riggs and Billie Jean King seems like a triviality by today's standards; an anecdotal story you might causally discuss over coffee and then change the subject to something more politically charged. The idea that a man would challenge any female (a 55 year old man, no less) to prove that "male is the superior sex" is such a silly premise, and yet sets the basis for a well-crafted and intriguing peek into history.

The movie is really about King (Emma Stone, last year's Oscar winner) and her struggle for gender equality for female tennis players. The film opens with her winning the World Championship and then learning that the next contest will pay female players only one eighth of what the men are making. Despite Billy selling just as many tickets as any man would, tennis is simply more exciting to watch when there's some testosterone. She withdraws her friends from the Tennis Association and then soon picks up new sponsorship from a cigarette manufacturer. Her mentor Gladys Heldman (a strangely-cast Sarah Silverman) is always present for some wise quip.

We then meet Bobby (Steve Carell), a washed up tennis player who, despite being squishy and round around the edges, seems to hold to the belief that he is still living the glory days of his youth. He gambles with everyone from his son to his therapist, and when his wife forces him to return a newly-purchased Rolls Royce, he instead takes it to the casino to gamble some more. One of his friends toys with the idea of selling tickets to see him matched against the reigning champ, Billy Jean, and imagines the money such a pair could rake in. We all but see the dollar signs in Bobby's eyes.

So goes the film. I was not aware that this "battle of the sexes" was the second match after Bobby easily defeated Margaret Court (Jessica McNamee) in the premiere face off. It was this defeat that sparked Billy Jean's urge to pair off against the misogynist. Spoiler alert: she wins in the end. I understand that this was historical accuracy, but wouldn't the film have been more effective if they omitted this initial match, and instead gave Billy Jean more of a drive to prove womens' might from the start? By my reckoning, the score as the credits role is MEN: 1, WOMEN: 1. Sure, Billy Jean wins, but don't forget that so did Bobby.

The film is effective for Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris' direction (you remember them from their debut with "Little Miss Sunshine") and a convincing cast. At times the film is burdened by Billy Jean's relationship to her hairdresser Marilyn (Andrea Riseborough) and the conflict it created with her husband, Larry King (not that Larry King, FYI). Later in life we know Billy Jean for being a champion of LGBT rights alongside that of women, but the film is almost weighted down too heavily with this forbidden romance that distracts from the more entertaining film that streams through the rest of the script. Steve Carell is ever good (as he always is) at creating unique characters with just as many virtues as they have faults. Emma Stone, likewise, brings great conviction to her acting and continues to display a wonderful range on screen. BATTLE OF THE SEXES is cute, simple, and slight. In the year of #MeToo, it also feels all the more timely.

Molly's Game (*****)

I do not understand the concept of poker, and the few times I have attempted the game I was left confused and irritated. No matter here. One doesn't need to be a poker expert to understand the high stakes at play in MOLLY'S GAME, the directorial debut of Aaron Sorkin. One neither needs to know Sorkin's name beforehand to understand that this is a great, timely film.

The story of that of Molly Bloom (Jessica Chastain), a former professional skier who left the sport due to unforeseen circumstances outlined in great detail in the film's remarkable opening sequence. From there, this scholar must grapple with her next steps in life: school? Time off? What will Molly do? She ultimately moves to Los Angeles and through perhaps fate and chance she lands the gig of a bookkeeper in a celebrity poker tournament - a small group of 10 or so millionaires who gather weekly with a $10,000 buy-in.

Molly finds the game quite alluring, and she begins making a generous income almost exclusively based on the tips of these clients (a featured one is played by Michael Cera and is referred to as "Player X," a composite of celebs like Leo and Tobey (we allege)). From here, she climbs the ranks, opens her own club, and begins to increase the buy-ins to include the likes of Russian mob and billionaire art dealers. This is a story as much about the downfall as it is about the entrepreneurial spirit - and seeing Molly Bloom climb the ladder of social class is simply wondrous.

And so goes the film: fragmented timelines jump back and forth between the present in which Molly faces criminal charges, and the past, in which she learns the ropes and proves to be quite a capable businessman. The structure and very basis of the story reminds us of Aaron Sorkin's arguable masterpiece The Social Network in which great young minds come face to face with the law amidst pure creation and drive. The script for "Molly's Game" is no less accomplished, and perhaps might step a rung above Network to become a movie as much about wits as anything else.

Jessica Chastain can do no wrong. Her Molly is aloof, quiet, reserved, and an ever-changing mystery that we as the audience want to solve. She is not without heart, and her scenes with her lawyer, Jaffey (Idris Elba) are both pleasing to the ear and the eyes. This is a great cast. As much as the film explores what makes Molly tick, we still leave the theater asking as many questions about who she is than we had before the film began. Sorkin doesn't seek to tell us what happened, rather shows us the wild odyssey as it unfolded. Nothing more.

For a first-time director, Sorkin balances all the pages of his dense screenplay with a mastery that few directors could match. The movie flies by at 2.5 hours and never once was I bored. With each new moment comes a rapturous addition to an already complex story, and the miracle is that I wanted to keep going. Yes, it's about gambling, and money, and misogyny, but it also has more heart than any Sorkin film has in the past. We see Molly's father (a surprising Kevin Costner) who always pushed her for greatness but grappled with being a good father. Chastain and Costner share a final scene in New York's Central Park that is simply flawless. Later, Idris Elba spells out the themes in a passionate speech on the behalf of Molly who faces years in prison if convicted. There is a particularly careful balance between passion and calculation in our heroes, and there is where I found the film so damned appealing.

Many will argue the film's run time or it's lack of sophisticated directing. I will call every criticism an outright sham. This is a marvelous, highly thrilling and altogether wonderful film that tells us a wild story that is largely true. It's not something you could make up. I won't spoil the ending, but I was left with an intense fascination to learn what happened to Molly Bloom, to ask her about her rise and fall as a business founder from a woman's perspective, any regrets, and any dreams going forward. Nothing is quite spelled out in black and white, and it's that distinct gray area in "Molly's Game" that offered so much more than what was written on the page. In the end, I only wanted to dive deeper into this strange abyss and find out more.

Downsizing (**)

I have an immense respect for writer/director Alexander Payne, who has made some films that are very close to perfect. I am not shocked that he has taken a stumble in his latest film, but I am deeply disappointed in it. DOWNSIZING seemed flawed from the beginning, offering audiences some sort of backwards comedy trailer, and then delivering a final film that ditched humor in an attempt to find a deeper meaning. On all fronts, this movie misses the mark.

Paul is a man (played by a dull Matt Damon) who lives in a world in which European scientists invented a procedure called "downsizing" in an attempt to save the planet from pollution. It's a logical idea, told in many steps in the film's opening sequence. Cut to 10 years later, and the world has seen 7% of the population shrink down to no more than 5 inches tall. Smaller size means adjusted income, and Paul and his wife's (Kristin Wiig) modest $100,000 net worth gets then tens of millions in a football field-sized city called Leisureland.

The trailer tells us that Wiig chickens out, and leaves Paul with a divorce settlement that essentially loses him his entire fortune. From a 4-story mansion, Paul is reduced to a small apartment, working a telemarketing job (I'm sure little people do phone jobs since it's one of the only professions that could still earn a living among the "big" people) and essentially losing hope in his decision to shrink down. In typical Payne-ian style, Damon meets a host of small town characters with familiar smiles and small town dialogue.

The film takes several unexpected (potentially unwanted) turns beginning with Paul meeting a Vietnamese activist named Ngoc Lan Tran (Hong Chau), who was downsized as punishment in her home country and then sent to the US in a TV box. She has lost her foot, struggles as a cleaning lady, but Paul helps her with his physical therapy background. A romance slowly blossoms. Also present is Paul's upstairs neighbor Dusan (played by the ever-charming Christoph Waltz), a playboy who hosts extravagant parties but then in the last half of the film somehow is a respected friend of scientists and global thinkers?

That last half of the film, let me tell you... Paul and Ngoc and Dusan take a boat trip to Norway to meet with the inventor of the shrinking process only to learn that pollution will soon wipe out the human population in a matter of years. The Norway colony has tunneled deep into the mountains for sanctuary during the impending apocalypse, and intend to live in the hills for 8,000 years before repopulating the earth. What began as a simple comedy with some interesting ideas soon took a dive into pandering, heavy handed social commentary that was neither welcomed or logical. In the last half of the film we continue to meet new cooky characters, learn major plot points, and then find out that Paul is a character with no sense to him at all. I had no idea what Paul's motivations were, and in the film's 'climactic moment,' I had no idea why he changed his mind at all. Poor writing, poor editing, and poor planning.

I liked Hong Chau a lot and the way she lit up the screen about midway through when the film began to lag. Even she was unable to keep this picture afloat, a movie that I sense will soon be forgotten and regarded as a dark period in Alexander Payne's career. I don't know what went wrong. There were so many questions I had. We learn there is a net over Leisureland to keep out birds and insects... Has an insect ever killed a human? I would want to know. Another throwaway character mentions that little people should not have the right to vote, since they essentially have their own economy inside their communities and they do nothing to contribute to the larger country's finances...  Again, a story element I would have much preferred to explore. In the end, "Downsizing" is a mess of ideas and messages, none of which are particularly entertaining.

Good Time (*****)

At a brisk 1.5 hour runtime, GOOD TIME is a visceral adrenaline rush of fear, suspense, paranoia, and corruption. The pace is swift, and indeed it feels as though any minute our heroes (and the audience) might become too overwhelmed and drown in the chaos of it all. This is a great movie, one that slipped by me in the crammed rush of Fall releases. How pleased I am to have seen it, and how restorative such a film is for my ever-growing doubt that good movies are increasingly hard to come by.

Directors Benny Safdie (a costar) and Josh Safdie tell a simple story in seemingly real time. We meet two brothers, Connie (Robert Pattinson, who is brilliant) and Nick (Safdie), who is mentally challenged. The film opens with a remarkable scene in which Nick meets with a therapist to discuss his cognition. Nick isn't necessarily present, and we sense his oafish personality and oblivious nature to anything related to subtlety. This is important to know when he meets with his brother, a low-life criminal who robs banks $65,000 at a time and brings his brother along to learn the ropes. Where Nick is passive, Connie is drive, always thinking two steps ahead and always with his brother's interest in mind (even if those interests involve criminality).

The story here begins with that bank robbery and concludes in a mesmerizing descent through the darkest parts of New York City and all the filth that comes with it. The plot is so specifically crafted that describing it doesn't really add to any sort of 'critique.' Just know that each scene is there with a purpose, and the writers throw so many curve balls that the story becomes a genuinely thrilling one to behold. What we know is that Nick gets arrested and Connie wants to bail him out. The search for $10,000 leads us from a hospital shuttle to a theme park and the depths of an apartment high rise. There is so much to see, to take in, and I was continually fascinated by Pattinson as our hero, a great actor in a role of desperation and tact.

The film is crafted with a certain flair for the retro styles of the 1980's. Neon lights litter the screen with candy color, and the score is synth inspired broodingness (composed by Oneohtrix Point Never). I would assume the film is set in modern day. What a clever and inventive way to tell this story. Our directing brothers, the Safdies, clearly draw inspiration from the works of some great filmmakers, and their craft is undeniable. This is a film that aims high and misses not a single mark along the way. On the surface level we have a standard thriller of desperate men, but just below the surface is another story of cunning and resourcefulness. Connie is by no means a good man according to the law, but his entire motivation in this film is that of selflessness, despite how flawed and warped his intentions are.

The film works for its craft - razor tight edits, a compelling score, a distinct visual language, and an earthy feel that immerses us in the world. We have some of the year's best performances in Robert Pattinson and Benny Safdie, each playing the opposite side of the same coin. Safdie in particular is a complete transformation from what we see in interviews to this instantly recognizable supporting character. It's a story of love and drive despite the moralities of all involved being absent. I can't think of a more satisfying thriller this year.

I, Tonya (***)

I, TONYA began with a promise and sputtered to a half about midway through. I admired a lot about this movie, especially that leading performance by Margot Robbie, but in the end all I can offer is tepid praise. The film feels inspired by David O Russell, with moving cameras, fluid editing, and a barrage of narration and inner monologue. What kind of story was director Craig Gillespie trying to tell here?

Most of you probably remember the story (or heard of it) regarding the 1994 Winter Olympics and the incident with Tonya Harding (Robbie) and Nancy Kerrigan. What began as arguably innocent blackmail and intimidation led to a girl's knee being injured with a retractable baton and Harding's skating career forever altered. Now it feels like a fun bit of trivia - a novelty story that makes the newspapers for its strange cast of characters and setting. Today even more so: the film presents the saga of Tonya Harding a an enigmatic mystery that few (if any) can grasp the deeper truth at hand.

The story, told in flashback throughout Tonya's life (standard for any biopic), and then leads to her competition in two Olympic games. What set her apart was her upbringing, raised among the trees and just a step above trailer trash. Her mother (the funny Allison Janney) is a wretched creature who pushes her daughter for no other reason than to see her fall off the metaphorical cliff. Her husband, Jeff (Sebastian Stan) is at first supportive of her ice skating but then resorts to routine beating and spousal abuse. First abused by mom and then her husband, Tonya remarks "maybe this is how people show their love."

The movie delves into the weird 1980's dynamics that led up to "the incident" that caught the world by surprise. About midway through the picture, I began to wonder to what end this movie was made? Harding is not vilified, but the story itself doesn't always feel substantial enough to create a 2 hour movie. At that midway mark, I began to realize that this film's only real goal was to show "the incident" and then everything else became filler by proxy. This is a surprisingly boring movie to watch at many parts, especially considering the levels of comedy, shocks, and vulgarities.

Margot Robbie is serviceable as Harding, and her transformation has been compared to someone like Charlize Theron in "Monster." Nonsense. Robbie gets the dialogue and appearance right, but the transformation doesn't really shock us until the close to the end, just before her Olympic performance, where she smears red blush on her face and smiles through the tears. Her vile mother, played with a lot of fun by Janney, is mostly one-note and doesn't often step outside the standards of cursing, smoking, and giving her daughter the evil eye.

The ice skating scenes are questionable for their use of facial replacement CGI (we understand that no actor could learn to skate so well for a film) which is more often than not jarring. I don't know. I, TONYA was funny for what it was, and then it slowly became repetitive, monotonous, and less exhilarating. Sometimes you watch a movie and feel like you are actively involved. You might lean forward with worry for the main characters, and hope they survive. I felt a curiously opposite emotion here. Few characters are likable, and fewer moments stick in my mind now having seen the movie. I wasn't joining with the story, I was simply witnessing something on screen.

Star Wars: The Last Jedi (**)

It is with a mighty thud that the Star Wars franchise has yet again fallen flat on its face. From the great reboot that was The Force Awakens comes THE LAST JEDI, a baffling film that manages the impossible: it removes any excitement I might have had for the next installment.

Unlike all Star Wars sequels, this one takes place in the immediate aftermath of the previous one, with Rey (Daisy Ridley) finding Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill) to convince him to join the Rebellion and possibly learn the ways of the Force. Meanwhile, The Rebellion itself (led by Leia, Carrie Fisher, in her last on-screen performance) is being relentlessly pursued by the New Order. The set up makes sense and we understand which characters are which and who is who... It's just about everything else that felt misled.

Right away, the film opens with a spectacular space battle in which bomber ships attempt to blow up a Star Destroyer (I didn't realize there was gravity in space). While one ship would do the trick, the Rebels send out virtually every fighter ship they own and then suffer the consequences shortly after. Outgunned and unable to jump to hyperspace, our 'action' is a slow-paced chase sequence in which the Rebel ship must keep a certain distance from the enemy in order to make their weapons fire ineffective. Couldn't the enemy, I don't know, make their ships go a little faster? The Rebels are led by the new Admiral (Laura Dern, who sports purple hair because... it takes place in space?), a strong fighter but a leader who lacks the trust of the entire crew.

Meanwhile, Finn (John Boyega) and a new sidekick, Rose (Kelly Marie Tran) take an illogical journey at the advice of Poe (Oscar Isaac) to find a 'hacker' who can help disable the main Star Destroyer and the heroes can make their escape. This entire sequence takes place on a Las Vegas-inspired planet that feels like the worst of the George Lucas prequels and offers nothing to the actual plot at hand. As I watched this sequence in which Finn and Rose ride horseback and then try to find a free slot machine to gamble on, two thoughts crossed my mind: this isn't really happening, and this could have been cut.

In fact, much of this film could have been cut. At 2.5 hours, it's the longest Star Wars installment yet, and boy do we feel it's run time. The last hour feels like one climax after the other, and on more than one occasion I was fully prepared for the film to end. What could have been cut? There's too much to say, since most of our heroes are sent on side missions that contribute nothing to the overarching plot and would change not one single aspect of the movie if the scenes were cut. Even Rey, who learns the ways of the force, makes some shocking discoveries in the company of Luke, spoilers not to be mentioned here. We meet old villains (the silver Storm Trooper is back, what's her name again?) and old friends (C-3PO and R2D2 who are so shamelessly tacked on to this movie simply for nostalgia), but the constant theme at hand is one of overkill.

To diagnose this film's problem, we must look to Disney, a company so calculated and by the book that I am surprised they approved a screenplay with so many inconsistencies and uncomfortable humor (and let me tell you, they try to squeeze in a lot of comedy here, and every single joke falls flat. Every. Single. One.). Our director, Rian Johnson, wrote and directed this monster of a movie and I wonder why no executives, supervisors, cast members, or the director's wife stopped him to explain what Star Wars is supposed to be about. "Force Awakens" set up a lot of mystery (Emperor Snoke, Rey's family, etc.) and I read that there was no overarching story designed that encapsulated all three films. They were "winging" it with each new screenplay. This means that Johnson could essentially write whatever film he wanted, and boy did he churn out a whopper. That is ever so apparent here, where Johnson clearly discarded much of the intrigue of film #1 in attempts to start over fresh. There is so much death, battle, and finality in this middle chapter that the end felt more like a conclusion than anything else.

Where do they go from here? We have one more film to go, and from what I saw, there is virtually no way to resolve this story effectively. What our director has done is a selfish move: made a film for himself that betrays the very idea of Star Wars and in the end becomes a movie that is laughably bad in both construction and design. We have a few "good" parts (there's a silent jump to light speed near the end of the film is a truly awesome moment... You will know when it happens) and a few good special effects (not all), but the characters have been given dialogue that feels ripped from a soap opera, one liners that confuse the story tonally, and a never ending barrage of action, saccharine, and nonsense that results in a mess of a film. I wish I could say more about LAST JEDI, but frankly I don't have the strength. Would I advise this film? See it again, I would not.

Stronger (***)

STRONGER won be over by the slightest of margins almost exclusively by the lead performance. Jake Gyllenhaal is building a reputation as a great actor who chooses films not equal to his talent. Nightcrawler was one such film, a rough assembly of triviality that has at its core an unforgettable character. Here, in a story based on real events, there was so much to question and so little to call memorable.

This is the second film of 2017 to center around the events of the Boston Marathon Bombing a few years back (January had the release of the Mark Wahlberg-based Patriot's Day). Here, we learn about the aftermath of the bombings most famous victim, a young man named Jeff Bauman (Gyllenhaal). We remember the shocking, grisly images of Bauman being wheeled from the scene with both legs blown off to the bone. His face was gray and emotionless, the scene around him ashy and disorientating. David Gordon Green, the director, makes a film that tries to answer the question "who is this man?" Might I counter with another question: "do we really need to know?"

The film starts off almost immediately with Bauman's hospitalization and establishes his relationship with on/off again girlfriend Erin (Tatiana Maslany). In attempts to win her over, he waits at the finish line with a homemade sign, but fate had other plans. Erin is at his side during recovery, during therapy, and everything in between. Perhaps she stayed more out of guilt, or perhaps there is a deeper connection there. It must be noted that while the couple does end up together in the end, the real life couple divorced earlier this year as the film's release was underway.

What drives the plot is mostly a cantankerous relationship between Erin and Bauman's mother, Patty (a wonderful and surprising Miranda Richardson). Bauman lives at home and works as a cook at Costco, and as he develops a relationship with Erin, we sense Patty's conflict in attending to her son. On one hand, she wants him to make a full recovery. On the other hand, the news exposure, fan mail, and interviews (Oprah even called!) puts her in a predicament. Patty is the film's "anagonist" if there is any, but does the film justify itself by making a real life woman such a ruthless being?

Did this film need to be made? I have this problem a lot with films that sensationalize recent tragedies. The image of Jeff Bauman in a wheelchair became the face of Boston, and his recovery was linked with the phrase "Boston Strong." In the end, the film amounts to little more than some sort of exploitation of a real man who encountered a life-threatening hardship. Gyllenhaal is very good behind colored contacts and CGI legs, but the film ultimately left me feeling only slightly comforted. I suspect reading Bauman's autobiography "Stronger" might offer a clearer voice and timeline of his recovery. The film, which spends millions to digitally erase a movie star's legs and then sensationalize Bauman's struggle in attempts to make a profit, seems ultimately redundant.

Call Me By Your Name (****1/2)

CALL ME BY YOUR NAME takes it source material and finds a new way to tell this unique story. All the main elements remain: a story of a young boy who finds summer love in 1983 Italy. What has transformed from page to screen is an intense fascination with the landscape of the setting and the mindset of a 17 year old boy who has no way to comprehend a blossoming romance. What might have been a sexed-up erotic romance a la "50 Shades of Grey" instead emerges as a story of devastating beauty and heartbreak.

I read the book in preparation of the film's release and in lieu of the high praise coming out about this small indie film. Written by Andre Aciman only 10 years ago, we witness a story of matched intellect. A young boy named Elio (here played by Timothee Chalamet) lives with his parents in an Italian villa every summer while his father works on research. A summer intern of sorts, Oliver (Armie Hammer) moves in to assist with the work, and from there the two slowly develop mutual understanding, a kinship, and an underlying attraction. My impressions of the book were slight; rarely did the book stray from erotic descriptions until the end, and then the text became something much more impactful and powerful. I could understand the appeal.

Director Luca Guadagnino saw this film as a passion project. What took apparently 10 years to make has emerged as a beautiful, albeit slow-paced story. You might know him from the lovely I Am Love, another Italian romance starring Tilda Swinton. His art is undeniable. The landscapes of northern Italy just melt off the screen in the most euphoric way, and we can understand that love could be in the air. We can also understand Elio, though, a 17 year-old boy who is bored most of the summer and spends his time reading, transcribing music, and swimming.

For a first-time viewer and someone not familiar with the story, one might be shocked at the relationship that forms. The first half of the film sets the scene, and then the last half is our payoff. Oliver and Elio rarely come to terms with each other, and when Elio does finally confront Oliver about his feelings (in a sharply choreographed scene that occurs around a WWI memorial), their dialogue might slip past the casual viewer. Also present is a romance between Elio and Marzia (Esther Garrel), perhaps something Elio pursues more out of jealousy of Oliver's wandering eye than anything else. This isn't a story of forbidden love, and what is surprising is that most (if not all) of the characters are accepting of the possibility of such a romance.

Timothee Chalamet as Elio (remember him as that bookish emo kid who said lines like "that's hella tight" in Lady Bird) is remarkably good as a boy who knows what he wants but has never been faced with a situation like this before. He's awkward, unsure, extremely likable, and then by the end when the film rolls to a conclusion we can see every emotion in his eyes and remember those feelings for ourself. Unlike Oliver (Armie Hammer, who is merely serviceable in his role), who is hesitant and calculated, Elio is what we would expect: young, naive, overcome with love. He dances in the halls and rests his head on his mother's lap for solace. It might look easy, but this is one talented actor.

The most discussed scene (besides an incident with a peach) will be one of the final moments in which Elio and his father (Michael Stuhlbarg) discuss the deeper themes of the movie in frank terms. It's quiet, darkly-lit, and yet a completely enlightening and magical bit of movie magic, one that sheds new light on this professor and gives the audience one of the great on-screen parents. To be gay and imagine one's parents speaking those words, it brings tears to your eyes. Stuhlbarg is present in the majority of the movie, but his performance ultimately whittles down to this brief exchange, and it is remarkable. Likewise with Elio's mother (played by Amira Casar), this film is as much about sexuality as it is about the love of parents and their children. There is love there that no flaw in their son can damage.

What I found improved from book to screen (among others) was the film's conclusion. More heart wrenching on screen but perhaps a more concise ending. We know throughout the film that Oliver's summer stay is short-lived, and that the foolishly in love Elio will ultimately come to terms with this finite encounter. We conclude months later during a heavy snowfall (while the family celebrated Hanukkah). Elio takes a phone call from Oliver in New York, the first time they have spoken since their last goodbye. It's brief, poignant, and a chat that is quickly over. But then the camera rests on Timothee Chalamet's face, and we watch him for what feels like an eternity, and then we begin to see the deeper themes emerge. In the book, I might have thought that both Elio and Oliver might still have a chance to be together, but here we feel for Elio as he realizes that not all good things last. Perhaps here, this was a romance that was never meant to be sustained.

As the credits began to roll, I began to wish that such a film wasn't meant to end, either.

Mudbound (**1/2)

MUDBOUND, based on the 2008 book by Hillary Jordan, is a movie that needed to walk a razor's edge in its handling. Movies about the racially-charged 1940's south aren't necessarily niche storytelling, but for it to work, we need to see that it is a movie that is showing us something we have never seen before. Frankly, I feel like I've seen most of this film before.

The story is focused on two families, one white family that moves to a rundown Mississippi farm to start over, and one family that works the land since slave times. Where one family is freshly planted, the other has its roots in the ground, in the town, in history. The white woman, Laura (Carey Mulligan) just wants to be a stay at home mom who cooks and cleans, but her husband Henry (Jason Clarke) has grand visions to raise crops and whatnot alongside his racist father (Jonathan Banks).

The flipside is a story of a mother named Florence (Mary J Blige) raising a wide range of children alongside her husband (Rob Morgan). Their son, played by Jason Mitchell, goes off to fight in World War II. This family lives in a rundown shack, working these dried up fields, trying to make a living. The story is less about a plot as it is about building up the sense of place. As Laura says, "I dream in brown. All I remember is the mud." That's for sure. This is a good looking and yet dreary place, photographed in pitch dark and then drenched in dirty water and overcast skies.

What transpires is essentially a friendship between Henry's drunk brother Jamie (Garrett Hedlund) and Ronsel (Mitchell) after they return from war. One black, one white. In France, they were treated like kings, liberating Europe from the vices of Hitler. Ronsel even begins seeing a French woman and the two fall in love. Back in southern Mississippi, he quickly realizes how little has changed. He is still forced to use the back door of a shop when in Europe he could openly be with white women. For all the hard fought battles, the life he returns to is anything but pleasant.

The story treads along through endless narration by every character and then some. It's a tired technique that can sometimes work to tell a story, but here we are just bogged down by this drone of voices offering us little insight into the film. Coupled with this narration, we have a noticeably jarring score of violins and percussion. Usually a film score can elevate the material we see. Here, it's more noise for the sake of it.

The Ronsel and Jamie friendship that forms throughout the film is certainly charming at times, as the two recount battle stories and cope with post traumatic stress. On the other hand, the film rarely elevates the source material into something larger than life. This is certainly a relevant story to tell, but did I enjoy the experience? I can't lie to you. "Mudbound" is awards bait with little to show for it besides the topic of race in America. It's a b-movie parading as some sort of art and then discussed afterwards in attempts to validate the experience of it all. Here's a movie where I suspect the book might be a more gripping encounter.

Darkest Hour (*****)

OF COURSE we have a great actor in Gary Oldman, and his performance as Winston Churchill here is impressive to say the least. What deserves just as much praise is the film as a whole, which serves to document the first month or so of the Prime Minister's rocky climb to power and all the forces that be. This, coupled with this year's Dunkirk and maybe even The King's Speech, might each work best against each other, paired up to tell one massive story of newfound leaders, war, and courage.

It starts with a great director in Joe Wright (he has helmed films from "Atonement" to "Pride and Prejudice"). It's all here on the page, but for a story like this to stay memorable, it takes a certain flair behind the camera as well. We open on grainy images of the war; black and white stock photos paired with an almost ominous sound of drums... Faint. We are then quickly introduced to the rapturous halls of Parliament in which the current Prime Minister (Neville Chamberlain) is losing the confidence of the government. A new leader is sought.

There is a build up to the introduction of Oldman's creation here, and for good reason. We meet all the main characters first, and then wander through long hallways and lengthy prefaces before catching a glimpse of the man through a cloud of smoke and the light of a match. Churchill, the fames leader, is not the type of man who might be elected today. He was old, forgetful, drunk, and in a constant aura of tobacco and sleepless. It was his dream (we are told) to become the leader of Great Britain, and he seemingly waited almost his whole life to achieve it. That was not without his faults...

DARKEST HOUR shows the flipside of the coin that was "Dunkirk." Where that film explored the chaos of the French beaches, here we see the dark underbelly of London on the brink of invasion and men deciding military strategies behind closed doors. In many ways, this is the more exciting film. We know about Winston from history books, from famed photos of his "v-sign" gesture (which now may be synonymous with 'peace'), but I did not realize the uphill climb the man had to wage war against Hitler when so many men around him would have simply chosen to surrender forthright. Churchill was a man of convictions, but the struggles come from trying to decide what is right and what is suggested he do. It's one man against the world - literally. Look at the scene where he telephones FDR to ask for assistance. It's not a loud scene, not is it climactic. Just look at how Oldman carries the worry, and the fear, and the building hopelessness of it all.

In many ways that's the strength of the film. I was wary first watching it of the loud, boisterous scenes of Winston Churchill yelling his head off (an obvious ploy for an Academy Award, no less), but I was touched by so many more moments of quiet reflection in which Gary Oldman shows us a man who was actually quite tender and reflective. On more than one occasion, he even has a tear in his eye. One scene in particular shows him interacting with passengers on the public train, and it's a charming moment from beginning to end. The contrast from light to dark and power to helpless is quite profound, and I must admit that this is a great, even astounding performance.

But so is the rest of the film... Dario Marianelli (a frequent collaborator with Wright) creates one of the most beautiful film scores I can remember. It sets the tone for the story in a way few composers might. And look at the visual structure and motifs. The camera is in a constant state of motion. It floats high above our character's heads as though from God's perspective, and then frames Churchill in small, isolated frames against black. Our cinematographer is Bruno Delbonnel (Amelie, Harry Potter 6, Inside Llewyn Davis) and eye for light, framing, and contrast is striking. There are few films this year that are likely as beautiful, and even fewer with such a clear insight into the language of film.

I'm glad to have seen DARKEST HOUR even though the 'WWII historical British biopic' seems to oftentimes be an overplayed genre. Don't let that fool you for a moment. This is a great film that explores the tiny minutia of one small aspect of a major global story. It isn't a war film, nor is it something that strives to be any more vast or ambitious than need be. It's the story of a man who comes to find the courage in himself to stand by his beliefs, a man who is strengthened by the courage of others. If that isn't a great, universal narrative, than I don't know what is.

The Shape of Water (***1/2)

THE SHAPE OF WATER is without doubt the most beautiful film of the year. It's art direction is bright, detailed, and fantastic, and the score is a compelling mix of some French fantasy. Guillermo del Toro's latest film is perhaps his most ambitious, his most daring, but the ultimate message of the film left me feeling cold. Here is a love story that defies convention in every single way. I suppose appreciation here would depend on personal comfort.

Guillermo's films ("Pan's Labyrinth" as his most famous up until now) seem to explore "modern" fairy tales through a darker lens. We have heroes and villains, princes and princesses, monsters and duels. I think the appeal of a director like this is his unique take on visuals and design, and we surely can recognize any film helmed by him simply by the recognition of strong makeup and a tendency towards graphic violence. For "The Shape of Water," I appreciated this twist on a love story, set amidst 1960's Baltimore, but the film slowly begins to lose footing as it adds more drama and seeks to take greater risks.

Essentially we follow Elisa (Sally Hawkins), a mute woman who works as housekeeping in a top secret government agency. She works the night shift and falls into a familiar pattern of sleeping during the day, boiling eggs for "breakfast," taking a bath, and then taking a bus trip to work. She has friends who speak on her behalf: Zelda, a fellow maid (Octavia Spencer) and Giles, her gay neighbor with a flair for graphic design (Richard Jenkins). Our script rarely takes time to appreciate the fact that our heroine is voiceless, and thus we have simple silent moments filled with narration by these two to help explain plot and story points.

Essentially what happens is that Elisa meets "the asset;" a government-acquired aquatic monster that was captures somewhere in South America. It's basically the creature from the black lagoon with a few minor changes. What they see as a monster, Elisa sees as someone like her: mute, misunderstood, alone... She spends much of her time in the lab getting to know the thing, and little by little we are led to believe that they form some kind of mutual understanding. Our villain is Strickland (Michael Shannon), a vile contract worker who abuses the creature and hopes to cut it up to study its inner workings (as most villains do). Elisa works to hatch a plan to save the creature and set it free.

It's a story we have seen a million times before but rarely with this much craft put into it. I think we can almost lock up the Oscar for Art Direction with this film - it's honestly that good. There are a lot of films that this story reminded me of but none more than "Amelie," that charming french romance that used color, music, and sound to create another world. In fact, the first 20 minutes or so are so blatantly copied from that 2001 film that I wondered whether or not Elisa was going to break into Strickland's house to change his toothpaste for his foot cream.

The trailer shows you a lot about the look of this movie, but we are unprepared for the intensity of the 'romance' between girl and fish. I can appreciate the way Elisa begins to see the monster as an equal, but we are meant to believe that a lot of things are happening here, maybe a bit more than is comfortable. The creature is definitely man-like with defined features and two legs, but the sexual nature that grows between the two is something that went over my head. Maybe others will see it differently, I don't know. We never understand the creature as anything other than a misunderstood being that was kidnapped from another world. Adding sexuality to the mix just left things feeling a little out of place.

The ending is as you would expect from Guillermo del Toro, and in fact you may find many more similarities to "Pan's Labyrinth" than you might initially think. A couple things are very good here: the visuals, the makeup, Sally Hawkins, Octavia Spencer (a scene-stealer in every sense, although she seems to be typecast as a maid more often than is necessary), Michael Shannon, and an unexpected score from Alexandre Desplat. I don't think this is the best movie of the year, although critics certainly seem to think so. It all feels a bit forced, to be honest. That Elisa lives above a movie theater, that her and Giles will know choreographed tap dance numbers out of a hat, that everything follows such a predictable arch and then ends with a pretty bow on top. There's nothing bad with formula. I only wish "Shape of Water" could have been a bit more fluid with its creative license.

The Disaster Artist (****1/2)

I forgot who said it, or where I heard it, but someone once said that they give every movie a standing ovation because they realized how hard it was to get made. A movie can be terrible or great, but at the very root of it, every movie is made out of passion. So goes THE DISASTER ARTIST, a modern-day "Ed Wood" that tackles the behind-the-scenes making of 2003's schlockfest "The Room," widely considered the worst movie ever made.

You almost need to see "The Room" before seeing this film. To understand the curious story here is to understand how baffling such a movie is in the first place. It's a story of betrayal, jealousy, drugs, football, and green screens galore. It's a movie about everything and nothing, directed and starring one of Hollywood's most baffling creatures: Tommy Wiseau (here played by James Franco (who also directs)). A lot happens in the film, but the reason so many people love "The Room" is because of the very strange way you can watch it over and over. A film can be bad (trust me, it is), but if you are compelled to rewatch it, is it terrible by definition?

The story here shows Wiseau's rise to fame with the help of his friend and costar Greg Sestero (Dave Franco). The two meet in a run-of-the-mill acting class in which Tommy shows no fear in performing a monologue from Streetcar Named Desire without any understanding of the material. Greg, a shy wannabe, sees Tommy as a man with no limits, no fears. They become friends and ultimately move to Los Angeles. Greg, a model with boyish looks, quickly finds a talent agency. Tommy, a man of nondescript age and nationality (his accent is charming and utterly impossible to try and imitate) has no luck in the acting gig. One director tells him he's better suited to play the villain, to which Tommy replies "I'm no villain. I hero. You villain!"

The idea is suddenly struck upon: the two men will write and direct their own movie. One of the film's running gags is Tommy's seemingly infinite amount of money. Wiseau famously self-funded the shooting of "The Room" back in 2003 to the tune of nearly $6 million, including promotion, premieres, and purchasing both a 35mm camera AND one in high definition. The production goes as one might expect. Tommy is unexperienced in screenwriting, in casting, in directing, and in comprehension (his first take on screen takes over 70 takes and the final delivery is shockingly bad). We assume people let him go along with it because of the paychecks. Besides that, no one would suspect "The Room" would ever be seen at all.

The film is based on Sestero's nonfiction account of his relationship with Wiseau and the filming of the movie. Wiseau himself has stated that this film is "99.9%" accurate in how it captures the behind-the-scenes aspects. We really only have one man to thank for that, and it's James Franco. The actor has been great (127 Hours) and bad (Oz), but here Franco is electrifyingly good as Wiseau. Hidden behind a false nose and that perfectly-realized accent, Franco paints a picture of this man who is two thirds clueless and one third heart. Yes it's a comedic role, but there is such a focus on the screen at every moment. We see the passion Franco has for his portrayal, which in turn helps us understand how such a terrible film was ever created to begin with. This is sure to be Franco's second Oscar nomination.

If you've seen "The Room" in theaters at midnight then you know how the audience will react. So they were with "The Disaster Artist." Fans will recognize so many subtle jokes and easter eggs regarding Wiseau, but those not familiar with the cult hit will surely still enjoy the film just as much. It's a love story about following your dreams no matter what cost. Despite an odd introduction (in which celebrities talk about "The Room" to the camera for a few minutes... It's a redundant moment - one celebrity says "I wish I could see what it was like to be on this film set!" but all we need to do it watch the film to find out) and a hilarious but strange conclusion (in which actual scenes from the 2003 film are played against recreations starring Franco and others), but overall this is without a doubt one of the most entertaining films of the year. "What a story, Mark!"

Novitiate (**)

NOVITIATE doesn't know what kind of movie it wants to be. For first-time writer/director Margaret Betts, the results are anything but stellar. The story focuses around the Catholic Church in the 1960's and the consequences of Vatican II. The rulings uprooted the traditional cloistered nuns who were used to tradition and humility. Betts wants us to understand why those values were so important but misses the point on a very fundamental level.

The story focuses on a young nun named Cathleen Harris (Margaret Qualley) who is raised in a non-religious southern household but slowly finds God through her times at Catholic school. Her mother is convinced that her decision to become a nun is simply an act of rebellion. For Cathleen, those peaceful moments found in Church felt like a deeper calling, and so she knows that a devotion to God is her one true calling.

Cathleen moves into the secluded convent on the outsets of town, a convent in which nuns live a life of poverty and are not allowed to leave the grounds. Cathleen is one of many young, bright girls who enter the program. They are given the title "postulant" and are at the mercy of the Mother Superior (Melissa Leo), the fiercely strict nun who uses corporal punishment and mental abuse to shape these young girls into quiet women of grace and humility. When we see a nun in public, they are peaceful, calm, and holy. This movie would have us believe that they are brainwashed to be obedient at the risk of self-flagellation an banishment.

Where Cathleen is our traditional "heroine" (and though she is utterly forgettable in a quiet, unaffected performance), it is Melissa Leo's character that is meant to provide conflict and structure here. At first she receives the documents that illustrate the Vatican's changes to the Church. She refuses to share them with her girls, fearful of what those changes might bring. We see her take out her frustrations on the postulants, yelling, screaming, kicking, and the likes. Leo is the standout in this film, channeling a character like Fletcher from Whiplash to become a sadistic and vindictive leader. Her final scenes try to shed light on her sadness (in a tearful speech to her fellow nuns). At times the role is over the top, and she stops just short of physically chewing on the scenery to make her point. In a film so dull, though, I think Leo is the only aspect I will remember as vividly.

The film takes side turns into the emotional toils that novitiates and postulants face on their journey to marry God. Themes are hammered in with no subtlety whatsoever, and an obnoxious film score leaves no moment of silence to meditate. We feel the inexperienced hands of director Betts over this story, and yet I can admire her for the attempt. This film felt like a 5 hour snooze and yet when it ended I realized no more than 2 hours had passed. We never understand these girls, their motivations. In the end we get a title card that tells us how many nuns left the Church after Vatican II. That would arguably make for a much stronger film. What we have here is a rehash of your standard psychological thriller without any stakes or motives.

Wonder (***)

WONDER is a dead-centered drama about a disabled boy growing up and beginning his first year in school. He is born with Treacher Collins Syndrome, with the results being a malformed face and frequent trips to the hospital. I say dead-centered because the film does little in terms of taking chances or exploring the world it has set up. It's surely an entertaining movie, but there is much more I wish they would have explored.

Jacob Tremblay is the talented boy who played Jack in Room a couple years back. He's a child actor of talent and skill. His character, "Auggie," is a shy boy who wears a space helmet to hide his deformity. He's excited to leave his home-schooling regimen (led by his mother, Julia Roberts) and yet fearful to start - also probably based on his mother's trepidations. His first day goes as expected: a couple bullies, a lot of staring, and pointed questions about his personal life. He makes a friend or two over the first few months, and little by little he begins to open up.

I suppose it's a similar basic concept to a movie like "Mask" or "Jack" where a boy has trouble fitting in at school and then eventually finds a way to fit in. The structure takes an interesting approach in the way it breaks down into chapters covering each of the main characters' lives. We have Auggie, then a section about his sister Via and her boyfriend, then Jack Will, Auggie's main friend... The idea is clever in the way we can explore all the lives effected by such a simple disease, but at the same time the movie doesn't seem too invested and eventually the sequences mostly fall flat. There's a great deal of time spent on Via and her failing friendship to her best friend, but little comes in the way of payoff that gives that section closure. They are scenes led by good actors, but does the movie even care about these kid at all?

In the end, the film doesn't offer much in terms of a conclusion, it just kind of stumbles across a finish line. Imagine a movie about a sad child who finds the courage to make friends and accept his disease. How do you think such a film might end? You're probably right. We have good actors here (Julia Roberts is especially heartwarming, her husband played by Owen Wilson is a curious choice) but in the end the movie plays it safe. It's without a doubt an emotional film, and you might get a little teary-eyed while watching it. Beyond that, the story is simply adequate.

Coco (****1/2)

COCO is the dazzling new Pixar movie that, for all it's worth, might very well be one of the best films of the year. It's surely one of Pixar's most accomplished movies, combining an intricate story, multiple characters and settings, and the flavor of Mexican culture. This is the year's most beautiful film. The screen is bursting with creativity and has heart to match.

It's unfortunate to read that COCO is Pixar's last full-length original picture until this decade is over. The studio is focused on sequels more than creating original stories, which is a shame, because this film is nearly flawless. The story follows a young boy named Miguel who lives in a small Mexican town. He comes from a long line of cobblers that all work out of a humble studio. Long ago, Miguel tells us, his great great grandfather was an accomplished musician, but after running away from his family to pursue fame, the house forever banned music from the premises. Nearly 100 years later, the rules still apply. Miguel has a passion for a 1950's television star named Ernesto de la Cruz and practices guitar in hiding.

The story begins on the Day of the Dead when the family prepares for the celebration. Through various plot points and missteps, Miguel ends up in the afterlife and witnesses the dead crossing a floral bridge to visit with their living family members. The only problem is that Miguel is still very much alive. After running into his ancestors, the movie becomes something more familiar - it's a journey to try and get Miguel home.

Pixar's team clearly immersed themselves in Mexican folklore and culture, and the results are beautiful. The screen is so full of detail that at times I felt as though blinking was hampering my experience. Everything from the reflection in Miguel's eyes to the heat wave coming off a candle is perfectly captured. Some say that computer generation is the easy alternative to hand drawn cells, but the level of work achieved here makes me beg to differ. We even meet a variety of spirit animals of all sizes and colors that accompany the dead around this incredible city. They fly around to give us visual acuity and establish where we are and why.

For all it has to offer, COCO still feels weighted down by an extended subplot that leads into darker territory than I have seen before in a Pixar film. I think this is because most of their films deal with cute animals or talking robots. When the same stakes are placed against a living person, it feels more intense. I wonder if younger children will understand all elements of this film, or if they will find it scary. I suspect they'll simply enjoy going along for the ride. Yes, the movie is filled with skeletons (who visibly lack jaw bones and sunken eye sockets... They are in no way scary beings), but the ultimate message of the movie is one of family, memories, and tradition. The introduction of various characters and the way they all tie together at times feels a bit too coincidental, even for a cartoon. What are the odds that Miguel bumps into a stranger in a town of millions - a stranger who holds the key to the film's conclusion, no less?

It wouldn't be Pixar without an emotional climax, and I will tell you that this one caught me off guard. We can expect what is coming, but the final 10 or 15 minutes of this film hit me as hard as anything I have seen in a movie. It's a quiet moment with a boy, a guitar, and his family. I defy you not to react. The film builds slowly and layers in characters and themes that for the most part I found myself happy but wishing for minor changes (Miguel has a dog sidekick named "Dante" who is clearly there for unneeded comedic relief). The end is the most perfect knot to conclude this story - bringing all characters together (living and dead) in a quiet moment of music and healing. The results are simply magical.

Murder on the Orient Express (**1/2)

"My name is Hercule Poirot and I am probably the greatest detective in the world."

For the hero of a film to utter such a line and not elicit laughter from the audience would be a marvel. It made me chuckle, heck, who wouldn't? MURDER ON THE ORIENT EXPRESS is the famous Agatha Christie "whodunnit" where the final reveal is probably the least exciting aspect. What this film fails to see, unlike the marvelous 1974 film starring Albert Finney, is that the charm of this story is the wild characters (like Poirot) who inhabit this train, a micro-chasm of a world. It's one step removed from having characters named Mrs Peacock and Mr Green... The problem here comes with my first point: this movie doesn't know how to laugh at itself.

The story is set in the 1930's as world-famous detective Poirot (Kenneth Branagh, also the director), settles a case and decides on taking a long holiday through the orient. He's instantly recognizable and sports one of the cinema's great moustaches - I've never seen anything like this thing. One thing leads to another, and he is called back to London to work on another mystery. The fastest route is a luxury sleeper car - the Orient Express. We meet the band of cooky characters little by little: the gangster-turned-art dealer (Johnny Depp), the religious nut (Penelope Cruz), the doctor (Leslie Odom, Jr), the Princess (Judi Dench), etc... The train departs and off we go.

Who gets murdered, well you can venture a likely guess based on the trailer. Who killed them? You'll have to wait and see. Branagh directs this film with a distinct visual style that attempts to overcome a clunky script with no clear development, passion, or care. We recall the shot from the original teaser trailer in which the camera slowly moves through the car and each character admits their alibi. It worked fine to introduce us to these people for a preview, but in the film it feels a bit more forced. Likewise we listen to each of these characters speak. Some of them (Branagh especially) can manipulate the words to feel original and fresh. Others (not saying names) are all but reading off cue cards just off screen.

The train is caught snowbound on the very night of the murder, thus the stage is set. One by one, Poirot interviews the passengers, asks them their story, etc. Each is more slithery than the last, and it's a wonder he doesn't solve the case even quicker than we would expect. This being a modern adaptation of a classic book, we need a couple action scenes and some moments of peril. How would the audience stay engaged otherwise? Even thus, the film feels segmented, flat, a bit overworked and a bit under realized.

I remember the 1974 film more vividly for its wild characters and it's attention to tone. A movie like this shouldn't be so sober, and with such an iconic finale, why NOT have some fun along the way? The closest we get is Branagh (can I mention him any more? He's the one shining star in a cast full of icons) playing a detective who is as giggly as he is somber. For the man to have directed himself to such a fine performance, you would think it would have been more infectious among the cast. Even now writing a review 12 hours later, I can barely remember a single face from the cast or one line they spoke. This is the most extravagant cast of the holiday season, and the film lets it all go to waste.

I didn't adamantly hate this movie, but there are so many better written and acted films out there now. Did we need a remake of Murder? I would argue yes. I doubt not a single movie-goer today would recall Albert Finney or Ingrid Bergman in the first onscreen adaptation, and this is a story that has a massive appeal in the setting, mystery, and appeal of death and gore. I only wish that the final result could have been more compelling. As it is - go to see this movie for Mr Branagh, but feel free to take liberal bathroom breaks throughout. You won't be missing much.

Three Billboards outside Ebbing, Missouri (**1/2)

Frances McDormand has certainly found her best role, maybe since Fargo, but the movie simply doesn't live up to her standards. Playing a woman who is in mourning following the rape and murder of her daughter, McDormand is a woman trapped in the 'anger' stage of grief. She swears, kicks, curses, screams. The movie itself takes a more obvious approach, and here is where it began to fall apart for me.

Martin McDonagh is a skilled English director mostly known for "In Bruges." Here he shifts the setting to Nowhere, USA and maintains the same copious amounts of blood and violence. It's a standard flick: Mildred Hayes (McDormand) rents out 3 billboards on a deserted country road near her house (the road is all but abandoned after the highway went up) that call out the police chief for his failure to catch her daughter's killer. The daughter met a violent death, and Mildred feels like the local officers would rather pick fights with black people than actually solve crime. The chief, Willoughby (Woody Harrelson) sympathizes with her but admits that the case has gone cold.

Most of the movie is spent on Mildred, her memories of her daughter, her relationship to her ex-husband (John Hawkes), her quiet son (Lucas Hedges), etc. I found myself wondering why these billboards caused such a stir, especially when we know they are on a back road that few (if any) citizens likely drive down. I also wondered why she assumes the police are all racist, when only one (Sam Rockwell) really shows any distain for his work or presents himself as a villainous creature. The officers we see are mostly respectable, small town men who surely know Mildred and would want to help. Willoughby clearly wants to. We spend a lot of time with his story, too. His family, his wife... There's a major plot element regarding him that I won't share here, but the latter half of the film is overflowing with voiceovers of Harrelson reading letters to various people in the town. It's a bore.

McDonagh is no stranger to violence, and there are several moments out of left-field that left my jaw agape. It's one thing for Mildred to be upset at her situation, but by the end of the film I came to see that there were no real moral characters left. I suppose that's the message here: that violence begets violence. The movie is a dark comedy, but that is one aspect of the story that feels brushed over in favor of wilder visuals and funnier quips. Did I like Mildred? Of course. Frances McDormand has scene after scene of fiery intensity that we don't often associate with the Oscar-winner. She makes the film work with what she was given. It's too bad that she's one of the only elements I found enjoyable.

From segmented flashbacks (can you believe the last thing Mildred told her daughter was "I wish you were raped!" - what irony) to predictable dialogue that didn't knock my socks off, THREE BILLBOARDS feels like a movie that sounded good on paper and then was lost in translation on its way to the big screen. I didn't buy the forced sentimentality of this movie, nor did the ambiguous ending leave me feeling anything other than "that was weird." I am happy that the film took risks and had many twists and turns that I would not have expected. From the first scene to the last, I would never have guessed this is how these characters would end up. It still left me desiring a lot more. It either needed a bigger story or a smaller, more stripped down approach. What this film feels like to me is a gray area that appeals to the masses on violence and gratuity alone. If you can honestly tell me that you haven't seen these same characters a million times over in the past (from the racist cop to the snappy mother to the abusive husband to the grieving wife), then I will tell you you need to see more movies.

Lady Bird (*****)

LADY BIRD might not be a perfect movie, but it was perfect for me. I've challenged myself to see more movies this year than any year past, and with a list of upwards of 100 movies in 11 months, I don't know if any movie has moved me or touched my heart like this. It's effortless in a way that seems impossible. It broke my heart and then carefully put it back together again. For first-time director Greta Gerwig to pull it off, that's something special indeed.

The film is about a young girl named Christine (who goes by "Lady Bird", played by the brilliant Saoirse Ronan) who lives in Sacramento but dreams of life on the east coast. She daydreams about liberal arts colleges and complains to her friends about how miserable their city is (Sacramento is like the midwest of California). It's surely the best "teen" movie I've seen since The Edge of Seventeen, which was the best since 2007's Juno. Do we need to classify these stories under such a genre? It's so limiting. Yes, the high school comedy is something we know inside and out - and yet this is a movie that is elevated so much higher. It's a deeply personal story that almost transcends any genre. It's a slice of life.

Much of Lady Bird's senior year is spent exploring her relationship with boys. She participates in the theater production of Merrily We Roll Along (where her awkward friend Julie gets a better part). There she meets Danny (last year's Oscar nominee Lucas Hedges), a bright redhead from an Irish Catholic family. Lady Bird writes his name in the space just under her windowsill. She daydreams about making out with him, and through her assertiveness she makes it happen. We learn early on how fiery this young girl is in a remarkably well-written scene with her mother. You saw it in the trailer, I'm sure. Lady Bird and her mom (Laurie Metcalf, who is flawless) are listening to "The Grapes of Wrath" on tape, crying in the silence and beauty of the words. It's a calm, reflective moment - bookended with the scene's conclusion in which Lady Bird jumps out of a moving car. Look at how they get from point A to point B and tell me Greta Gerwig isn't a talented writer. Later in the film Lady Bird falls for a different boy named Kyle (Timothee Chalamet) who is paranoid about government tracking and is a quiet romantic who reads poetry by himself at loud house parties. It's quite funny.

What makes this film so special is that is a story told by Gerwig who herself has had the opportunity to reflect back on her childhood. We can see her so clearly in Ronan's character (and if you've seen any of Greta Gerwig's performances we can understand the type of person she is). There is a sense of regret, longing, even enlightenment here. Lady Bird so eagerly wants to go to an expensive school, but at the same time her father (Tracy Letts, again brilliant here) has been laid off, and her mom is barely making a living as a nurse. At first we can sympathize with her parents, both hearty people who only want what's best for their children. By the end of the film we see Lady Bird's transformation: that she can understand everything her parents have done for her as well. It's a beautiful evolution that is captured in small moments here and there...

Greta Gerwig herself has said that this film is not as autobiographical as it appears (though she was raised in Sacramento), but what I was struck by is how insightful her story is into growing up in general. I think a lot of us could project ourselves onto Lady Bird. She goes to a Catholic high school, she goofs off with her friend, she yells at her parents, and then when she finally moves away she has a chance to think about all that she really had to begin with. There are two incredibly emotional moments in the film that are all the more effective for how they are set up. One shows Lady Bird being driven to prom and making a calm realization while listening to Dave Matthews Band, and the other is when Lady Bird leaves a message on her parent's answering machine. They're both moments of clarity for Lady Bird, they're quiet, and they hit me so hard that I will be the first to admit I became emotional.

This is a movie that demonstrates so many people at the top of their game. Certainly Greta Gerwig is going to skyrocket as one of the industry's most insightful writer/directors. Saoirse Ronan is destined for her third Oscar nomination. Laurie Metcalf as the mother finds all the right notes and her final scene is a heartbreaking moment of silence in her car. Where the movie could have gone flat, it became that much more special. I know there are more accomplished movies that will come out with more polish and greater star power. I guarantee that in a year from now, this is something I will still remember as vividly.

Happy Death Day (***1/2)

It's Groundhog's Day meets Scream. I can't think of a better way to put it - a horror movie with a sense of humor. The premise is something that is so specifically-overused that a simple mistake could have toppled the whole picture. Despite flaws and despite a run-time that is perhaps 15 minutes too much, HAPPY DEATH DAY was a whole lot of fun.

It's Tree's Birthday (Jessica Rothe) and she wakes up in the dorm room of an unfamiliar geek (Israel Broussard), hung over, and late for class. She lives on a vast college campus, is caddy with several of her sorority sisters, and has a surprise party planned later in the evening. Oh, and by the end of the night, she'll be murdered.

Now comes the Groundhog Day element, in which Tree awakens in the same dorm immediately after being murdered by a masked assailant. Same geek, same girls, same day. It takes Tree a couple days to work out what's going on: she's trapped in the same day over and over... The catch is that no matter what she does or how much she changes her day, she is destined to be killed by this unknown killer. Finally after much frustrations, Tree admits what's happening to the geek, named Carter, and he eventually begins to believe her. His plan? Make a list of every person who might dislike her and work to unmask the killer. If you catch the killer and survive the day, maybe you can make it to tomorrow. Great.

The film doesn't take itself too seriously, and in fact I would argue this is a comedy before it is a "horror/thriller." Tree's journey of self-discovery is a surprisingly effective one, and we have fun with her along the way. Yes, every 5 or 10 minutes she is killed, but I was rarely scared by this person wearing a baby mask. Nor was I overly eager to find out who the killer was. Who cares? Like Groundhog's Day, the movie enjoys visual humor and some funny scenarios that would likely happen if you were able to repeat the same day over again.

And then Tree sees on the television that an escaped killer has been hospitalized, and she is surprised she hadn't seen that on the news until now. "He must be my killer." And guess what, he basically is. This is not a spoiler per-se, because the film is far from over at this point. I'll be the first to admit that the last third of the film kind of falls apart, loses steam, takes the easy way out, however you want to put it. Even when we think she has solved the mystery, what do you know - the day keeps repeating. I heard in an early screening of the film that they intended to allow the day to repeat forever, and that preview audiences groaned as though having been betrayed. I don't blame them. Even this film, with its happy ending, takes so long to get there that I began to feel cheated... Perhaps I was stuck in a film that would never find a satisfying conclusion?

For all it's worth, the film works. It's a fun thrill ride and a light taste of the Halloween spirit for those who aren't necessarily thrilled with gore/torture porn flicks. The final reveal of the killer might leave you asking more questions than you want to think about, but in the end you have to dismiss this movie as one of those "shut your brains off" when you're watching it. I suspect a repeated viewing of this film might render it dumber than my first reaction might have thought. And that's okay. We aren't aiming for the stars here.

The Florida Project (****1/2)

It was no more than 10 minutes into THE FLORIDA PROJECT that I knew how special a movie this was. It's hard to deny the craft of director Sean Baker and his keen eye for beauty in everyday moments. It's also hard to call this cast anything but brilliant. This is a movie that at first warmed my heart and then  eventually broke it. I cared for these characters, and by the end of such a unique story, I felt as though I had genuinely visited a world I have never seen before.

If you are like me, I would hope you go into this film with as little information as possible. I knew something about a purple motel and very little else. That's mostly right. The setting is a unique one, something that is both escapist and tragically real. The story is from the perspective of three children spending their summer in an extended stay motel, one of those joints you see from the highway and think little of. The motel is in Florida, just outside of Disney World, and tourists drive past on their way to finer hotels and beautiful rides and food. Not our characters, and especially not our heroine, Moonnee (Brooklynn Prince). She lives with her single mother (Bria Vinaite) on the third floor of the motel. Her mother works odd jobs to make it by but mostly spends her nights partying and doing drugs. Moonee has a similar disposition - she swears, she yells, and she's out of control.

We essentially follow Moonee and her friends Jancey (Valeria Cotto) and Scooty (Christopher Rivera). They wander the grounds and spit on guests' cars. They walk several miles down the highway road to beg for free ice cream. They play on the swings and go swimming when it gets hot. They torment the motel manager, Bobby (Willem Dafoe), a stern man who nonetheless looks out for these kids and is sympathetic to their situation. These kids live poor lives, just a heartbeat away from homelessness. Do they realize this? Not at all.

The movie is memorable for its candy-colored settings. The purple motel, a large orange shop, an abandoned city of model homes in all shades of pastel pink... There is something so shocking about having such a beautiful movie set in the most dire circumstances. Perhaps this is meant to be the viewpoint of our kids. To them, the world is an insurmountable place and every day is filled with adventure. A motel like this may be a dump for a tourist, but for a kid, it's a playground of limitless options.

I mentioned how the movie starts off with such charm as we follow the kids around their day. Much of the film feels improvised, and the conversations these kids have with themselves feels so genuine. There are hints of the adult world slowly creeping in (in one of the film's most memorable moments, Bobby confronts an old man who happens to wander onto the nearby playground to chat up some kids). There are also several shots of Moonee taking a bath while listening to loud pop music. At first it's charming to see her bathe her dolls. Later we understand that there is a lot more happening just beneath the surface.

Where the kids have an idealistic life, we have two adults who help us understand the truth of it all. Bobby (Dafoe) is a character who feels lived in and assured in his job. Sure, he knows the motel is a dump, but over time we see him come to protect these kids from the dangers just beyond the fence. This is a remarkable change for Dafoe and a character that is a true hero even if his actions are what any decent person might do. Then we have Moonee's mother, Halley (Vinaite). Here is a performance that shines brightest in the film and yet I am sure many people will dismiss it as "annoying" or "shallow." Nonsense, this is a fully realized character who makes all the wrong choices in the hopes of supporting her daughter. We see her steal, solicit, drink, and get in fist fights, and even by the end of the film when her life is all but over, she has changed not a bit. This aspect is perhaps the most troubling in the film: the idea that these people are bound to a live of poverty and little can be done to break the cycle.

There are so many wondrous moments in this film that are too vast to count. It's a truly original work that has all the makings of a classic. All but one. The film concludes with a spectacular show of emotion from little Brooklynn Prince (the 7-year old star) as the reality of her world finally comes crashing down. Throughout the film, she manages to evade punishment by lying, running, swearing, and hiding. Here we see a little girl grow up before our very eyes as she says goodbye to a friend. And then... the film takes a dramatic turn, perhaps the most shocking ending of any movie I can remember. I won't spoil it, even though it's most likely a dream sequence with clear intentions. The 30-second scene is so jarring in the way it changes film format (it was filmed on the director's own iphone) and a loud, rousing soundtrack that is absent throughout the rest of the film. It's a cute way to end the film but executed so horribly that it all but left my mouth hanging open in shock. Is the idea bad? No. Could it have been better? You bet. I have read many critics and their interpretations of this ending, and I can't justify it with any shred of logic in my mind. It's a head-scratcher like nothing I have seen before.

Regardless of the bad taste left in my mouth during the final moments, this is a film that had tears flowing and my mind lighting up with the talent I was witnessing. This is a wonderful movie that speaks to the heart and shows us a world that is just down the street and yet so far away. Last year's Best Picture went to Moonlight, another Florida-based film that explored the lower classes of America. Here we see another shade, told through the eyes of kindergartners and is yet no less potent. And Brooklynn Price, how many times can I say her name? When Oscars tally the 5 best performances of the year, I hope they remember her authenticity and charm. How close this film got to being perfect, and still how great it was to have seen it at all. This is easily one of the year's best movies.

Loving Vincent (*****)

For all the faults audiences may find in a movie as unique as LOVING VINCENT, I don't think it makes it any less of a monumental achievement. It's a marriage of art and technical prowess. Even the film can't deny it's own brilliance - the opening credits remind us that this is an entirely oil painted film, rendered one frame at a time by over 100 artists. To see it in theaters is to fall into the mind of an artist. The colors are so vivid as they light up the screen with stunning compositions and movements. This is simply a stunning movie.

To know the craft behind it is just as incredible as watching the film, itself. The process of bringing such an ambitious project to the screen resulted in crowd-funding, experiments, and lots of dreaming. Watching the film, it's easy to see the process, but it's not easy to comprehend much beyond it. Each frame is a painting, and shot by shot, we see the artists painting over, adjusting color and form to create a fluid movement. If you wonder how they would keep 65,000 paintings in storage then look no further: no more than 10% of images you see on screen still exist, the rest lay buried under layers of paint.

The story is no less intriguing. We follow a character named Armand (the man in the yellow jacket), son of a postman who has van Gogh's last letter that was addressed to his brother. It's a year after the artist's death and the intention is to give Vincent's brother some peace. Armand makes the journey cross country to a small village outside Paris. Here we learn a startling truth: that van Gogh's brother also committed suicide. What has become of the van Gogh name, and more importantly, what might have driven these men to end their promising lives so soon?

The story follows a chapter book structure. Each individual scene seems to tell its own story, and we become familiar with the techniques used. Armand meets the innkeeper who owned the hotel Vincent lived in at the time of his death. He meets a local doctor, a fisherman, a young boy... Each tells their own account of the man they knew. In contrast to the bright Impressionistic colors of the film, flashbacks of Vincent show nearly photorealistic black and white sections of story. We see his arrival in the town, his steadfastness in painting and art, and a relentless flow of bullies, gossip, and mounting dread. Armand, a man who knew van Gogh and was the subject of some of his paintings, recalls many of these faces from other works by the master. When he meets a girl at a piano, he instinctively tells her "I recognize you."

I can imagine some people becoming bored by such a beautiful film that follows such a predictable structure. The ending concludes just about as we might expect. Whether or not Armand learned any more about Vincent prior to his death (was it even a suicide?) is beyond the point. One character sums it up quite nicely: "you want to know so much about his death, but what do you know of his life?" Quite right. Maybe this film can shed some light. What we are left with is a movie that takes your breath away with each new scene. It's a monumental achievement no matter how you look at it, and a process that I doubt many filmmakers will ever attempt again. Go to see LOVING VINCENT for it's singular vision of storytelling. Each frame of this story captures van Gogh's style and brings his art to the forefront. It's a love letter in many ways - an attempt to pay homage to such a revered man. It is quite the tribute.