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.