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.