By Brett Blake As we hit the end of the decade, it seems fitting to look back at the highlights of those years. Before I unveil a list of my favorite films from 2010 through 2019, I wanted to build up to that with a bit of an appetizer, and as a huge movie score fan, picking out my favorite scores from that period seems like a good way to ease into the retrospective. First, however, a brief word about the scores of 2019. Honestly, I don’t think it’s been a very good year for the medium, and even the scores that truly excited me could be boiled down to a few choice selections. I have high hopes for the upcoming STAR WARS: THE RISE OF SKYWALKER score from John Williams, but other than that, I have no qualms sharing my favorites of the year right now (albeit in a more brief form than I usually do). In no particular order... • AVENGERS: ENDGAME (Alan Silvestri) -- “The Real Hero” • HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON: THE HIDDEN WORLD (John Powell) -- “The Hidden World Suite” • GODZILLA: KING OF THE MONSTERS (Bear McCreary) -- “King of the Monsters” • SPIDER-MAN: FAR FROM HOME (Michael Giacchino) -- “Far From Home Suite” • AD ASTRA (Max Richter, Lorne Balfe, Nils Frahm) -- “Says” • US (Michael Abels) -- “Anthem” • CAPTAIN MARVEL (Pinar Toprak) -- “I’m All Fired Up” • CHILD’S PLAY (Bear McCreary) -- “Theme from Child’s Play” • DARK PHOENIX (Hans Zimmer) -- “Reckless” Okay, let’s move on to my favorites of the decade. Some honorable mentions: HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON (John Powell), STEVE JOBS (Daniel Pemberton), GODZILLA (Alexandre Desplat), SOLO: A STAR WARS STORY (John Powell), THE WITCH (Mark Korven), THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WIND (Michel Legrand), THOR: RAGNAROK (Mark Mothersbaugh), FANTASTIC BEASTS AND WHERE TO FIND THEM (James Newton Howard), LA LA LAND (Justin Hurwitz), THE ADVENTURES OF TINTIN (John Williams), PASSENGERS (Thomas Newman). And now, my ten favorites, in alphabetical order. Be sure to check the links embedded in the text for additional cues from each score! EVIL DEAD (Roque Baños, 2013) The finest horror score of the decade, featuring deeply chilling choral and string writing which conjure up a truly hellish and nightmarish atmosphere. Do not listen at too high a volume! THE HOBBIT: THE DESOLATION OF SMAUG (Howard Shore, 2013) While the HOBBIT trilogy may not be at the same level of quality as THE LORD OF THE RINGS, Shore’s music for this second installment is just as dense, thematic, and rich as his work for those earlier movies. INSIDE OUT (Michael Giacchino, 2015) Possibly Giacchino’s best score to date, featuring two terrific, catchy main themes that beautifully underline the emotional undercurrents of the story. He also employs some evocative and ethereal instrumentation and orchestration at strategic points. INTERSTELLAR (Hans Zimmer, 2014) Potentially Zimmer’s masterpiece. With piano and organ at the forefront, Zimmer gets directly at the heart of what is Christopher Nolan’s most sentimental film in a powerful way. The feeling of awe and scale he creates is extremely impressive, too. THE MAN FROM U.N.C.L.E. (Daniel Pemberton, 2015) A delightful homage to jazzy, snazzy espionage scores of the 1960s, Pemberton announced his presence to the film score world with this thoroughly entertaining pastiche. His influences are clear, but he somehow puts them together in a fresh package. MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE - ROGUE NATION (Joe Kraemer, 2015) In the running for the finest pure action score in many years, Kraemer goes BIG and blows up the classic MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE theme into countless variations. It’s a score packed with personality, as well, which (unfortunately) is a rarity for action music. SKYFALL (Thomas Newman, 2012) Newman fuses together the characteristically big James Bond “sound” with his own skills for exotic texture and moody ambiance, which gives the film a unique flavor that has one foot in the past and another in the present. STAR WARS: THE FORCE AWAKENS (John Williams, 2015) Williams’ return to the world of STAR WARS is nothing short of a triumph. It establishes a collection of very strong new themes that sit seamlessly alongside of the roster of his original melodic ideas, and it also delivers the scale that a STAR WARS episode needs. TRON: LEGACY (Daft Punk, 2010) Heavily electronic and intensely moody. While there is a primary theme, this score is much more interested in evoking a particular sort of half-mysterious/half-introspective feeling, which it does very well. WAR HORSE (John Williams, 2011) One of the finest scores Williams has ever written, and featuring a handful of superb themes, WAR HORSE is intensely emotional, charting a musical journey from innocence, through hardship, and finally to powerful catharsis.
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By Brett Blake It’s become a bit trendy in recent years for movie buffs to take stock of the year in film, not just in terms of new releases, but also older movies that one might have discovered over the course of that year. I tried my hand at this last year, and have decided to do it again. I watched nearly 250 movies in 2019. Some were new releases, others were films I revisited, and many were films from prior years that I saw for the first time. That third group is the subject of this list, which is comprised of the ten best/favorite/most interesting older movies that I saw for the first time this past year. Criteria for appearance: a movie with a United States release date of any time prior to 2019 that received a first-time viewing from me during the year. With that preamble out of the way, let’s jump in. In no particular order... THE MAN WHO HAUNTED HIMSELF (1970) A fascinating and strange tale. The hook here is a fantastic one, playing on classic fears of the doppelgänger. Roger Moore is absolutely fantastic in the title role, and if people only know him from his James Bond work, they really owe it to themselves to check out this rather deep cut from his filmography, because the versatility he shows off here is impressive. His portrait of a slightly stuffy man dealing with domestic ennui and gradually succumbing to increasing paranoia is extremely effective and even genuinely moving at times. What the film gets across incredibly well is the feeling of the uncanny intruding on normalcy, the idea that something truly inexplicable and bizarre may be happening to your life, and you’re - basically - powerless to stop it or even decipher it. It culminates in a finale that is subtly horrifying and, as the title would suggest, haunting. THE SILENT PARTNER (1978) In the conversation around crime thrillers of the 1970s, THE SILENT PARTNER has seemingly been forgotten, but this is a fantastic yarn with engaging performances and a compelling plot. The premise is a great one, full of unexpected developments and unusual turns: Elliott Gould is a bank teller who comes to discover that Christopher Plummer is going to rob the bank, so Gould figures out a way to make it look like Plummer steals more money than he really does so that Gould can keep it for himself. The script makes quirky and unexpected choices throughout, and it’s also imbued with a dynamic tone that blends together darkness, playfulness, tension, and even just a bit of sexiness (as well as a splash of kinky, sadistic violence) to create a fusion that feels quite unlike anything else of the era. And Plummer, no stranger to villain roles, has never been so convincingly frightening. HIS KIND OF WOMAN (1951) A treat! If you were to just read a brief synopsis, you would probably come away thinking this is a very conventional noir, but the actual film itself is anything but conventional. True, its plot is not particularly remarkable, but its rather deft tonal blend makes it totally unique in the noir canon. On paper, mixing legitimate dramatic stakes with some (at times) goofy humor should probably not have succeeded in this era, but somehow those elements compliment each other. The cast is terrific -- Robert Mitchum and Jane Russell are almost archetypal lead characters, and they’re surrounded by a fantastic roster of supporting players, such as Raymond Burr, Tim Holt, Jim Backus, and (especially) Vincent Price. More than anything else, this is a showcase for a side of Price we didn’t get enough of, especially later in his career; it is so refreshing to see him in a non-horror setting and getting to play up his skill for humor. This movie simply should not work, but it does. HANDS OF THE RIPPER (1971) A horror movie from Hammer Films with a delightfully strange premise -- Jack the Ripper’s spirit possesses the body of his teenage daughter! Just based on the subject matter, this is one of Hammer’s more overtly shocking and provocative films, and it embraces a fairly full-on depiction of psychosexual trauma and bloodletting; Peter Sasdy’s direction is, at times, intentionally overheated, which gives the killings a nightmarish feel. The cast lacks some of Hammer’s more familiar faces, but Angharad Rees does some affecting work in the story’s pivotal role, and her character’s dilemma of wanting to have a normal life while being driven to violence by the literal sins of her father is pretty effective; the movie delights in the murders she commits, but it also has unexpected empathy for her. NIGHTMARE ALLEY (1947) A fascinating and truly idiosyncratic noirish drama. The directions in which the story unspools are completely surprising, and spiral out into a complicated web of unhealthy relationships and unscrupulous scheming. Tyrone Power delivers a marvelous performance, one that is incredibly well-calibrated and multi-layered; this is a character who is so blatantly an opportunistic and morally questionable charlatan, and Power doesn’t flinch in conveying that, yet he also introduces moments of (possible) genuine feeling that almost give the impression the character is deluding himself into believing he’s a much better person than he really is. Power can make us both loathe and feel sympathy for this guy (sometimes in the very same scene!), and the journey the story takes him on shows him to be one of the most complex lead characters I think I’ve ever seen in this era of this genre. EYE OF THE DEVIL (1967) From the very opening moments, which feature some striking and eerie montage editing, it’s clear that EYE OF THE DEVIL is more than just a textbook British chiller. There is visual storytelling in here that feels very ahead of its time, even almost avant-garde in places, without losing focus and becoming too experimental. It boasts a strong pair of leads in David Niven and Deborah Kerr, as well as some solid supporting turns from Donald Pleasence, David Hemmings, and Sharon Tate, who all demonstrate a strong ability to creep you out. The movie does an effective job of capturing this pervasive sense of the occult being at work, and very quickly we get the sense that something very, very wrong is (eventually) going to play out... which it does. This is small film, all things considered, and the pace slows considerably in the back half, but the story resolves with some excellent suspense. YOUNG MR. LINCOLN (1939) A film which elevates Abraham Lincoln as the paragon of folksy decency and virtue... and I'm completely fine with that, because if any historical figures deserve that sort of treatment, Lincoln is surely among them. That's not to say that Lincoln is presented simplistically or without depth, but it does effectively make the case for the greatness in the man's character and soul. Henry Fonda is excellent in the title role, and in many ways young Lincoln is a perfect vehicle for his particular acting talents. Surrounding him are colorful performers galore, part of the kind of quirky and memorable ensemble you could only have assembled during the height of the studio system. John Ford, always a strong directorial force behind the camera, embarks on a journey of American mythmaking here, and the result is potent, patriotic, and quite stirring if you're open to it. THE ONE I LOVE (2014) A peculiar and idiosyncratic character study wrapped in some vaguely-fantastical, TWILIGHT ZONEian packaging. I really don’t want to go into any detail about the particulars of this movie, other than to say it uses genre-y concepts to really drill down and examine the insecurities and resentments of a frayed relationship, while slowly growing into something genuinely creepy and unsettling. And it somehow manages to do this with a level of humor that keeps it from being unpleasant. Mark Duplass and Elisabeth Moss each get to show off a good amount of range, and the movie succeeds both because of the sharp quality of the writing and because of the great turns from its leads. This is a movie I walked into with no expectations, and found myself completely won over by it. STILL OF THE NIGHT (1982) Director Robert Benton’s follow-up to KRAMER VS. KRAMER finds him in completely different territory, that of the Hitchcock-style mystery-thriller. It’s a well-made yarn that doesn’t reinvent any wheels, but is quite enjoyable for fans of this stuff. There are a few great touches (like the eerie, macabre depiction of a dead man’s dream, as well as a superb riff on NORTH BY NORTHWEST’s auction sequence), and Roy Scheider’s good (he’s always good) as our protagonist who finds himself drawn into a murder mystery. We also have Meryl Streep, and though the role here doesn’t demand as much from her, she’s every bit as good as in THE DEER HUNTER or KRAMER VS. KRAMER; this is not a performance of hers that often gets discussed, but she’s terrific. The mystery ends up resolving in a way that is not fully satisfying, but the journey to get there still is. RAVENOUS (1999) A bizarre and compelling western-horror-comedy hybrid, one that is terrifically unnerving but also has an effective, dark sense of humor. The location shooting is often beautiful, yes, but it also has a level of grimness that adds a desolate feeling to the proceedings. It plays with some really interesting and uncomfortable ideas about the effects of cannibalism; it’s all heightened stuff, but the leads -- Guy Pearce and Robert Carlyle -- sell it very well. Pearce’s work is particularly key, because I think the movie would simply devolve into strangeness were it not for Pearce anchoring things in a relatable emotional and psychological place. The dialogue is uniformly terrific, as is the score, which marries folk music and experimental qualities with more traditional scoring approaches. It’s a film that apparently a lot of people didn’t know what to do with upon its initial release, but viewing it 20 years on, perhaps the sort of tonally adventurous storytelling it attempts would have been more appreciated if it was released today. By Brett Blake In a lot of ways, THE IRISHMAN feels like Martin Scorsese’s definitive final statement about organized crime and the ultimately devastating and soul-damning effects it has on those who come into contact with it. Far from the rip-roaring ride of GOODFELLAS or the operatic grandeur of CASINO, this is an extremely introspective work that is tinged throughout with melancholy and unspoken regret. Fundamentally, the movie is about a man looking back on his life and the key points where it pivoted further and further away from the straight and narrow. We see the gradual chain of events that lead Frank Sheeran (Robert De Niro) -- seemingly an okay man on the outside -- from being a truck driver to being a mob killer. There’s also a dreadful inevitability to many of the story’s turns, not just because some viewers might know the fates of some of the real-life people involved, like Jimmy Hoffa (Al Pacino), but because it’s so clear that the characters are at the mercy of larger forces. Forces which, through their own actions, these people have allowed to have control over them. Sheeran is caught up in the middle of many opposing parties, doing his best to mediate things, but we know it’s futile. Tempering that stuff, though (and perhaps even enhancing it), is an unexpected level of warmth. We get to witness a great deal of affection and moments of human connection pass between many of the characters here. They’re allowed a lot of nuance, and emerge as complicated, complex people. It’s also a funny movie; by no means a laugh riot, of course, but there are plenty of exchanges and lines of dialogue that are genuinely amusing. The way the story is structured is interesting, employing a “flashbacks within a flashback” sort of device; there could have been a danger in such a decision, but the different eras have enough distinctiveness that it’s not difficult to keep track of the unfolding plots in each. Scorsese’s filmmaking is just as dynamic and engaging as ever. Beautiful camera moves, crisp and sharp editing, and a sense of momentum that is kind of miraculous given that this is a 210-minute, expansive film filled with digressions. He’s also always had a knack for knowing which piece of music to use under which sequence, and that’s on full display here with a series of needle drops that either perfectly set the tone or underline something in an unexpected way. Now, I would be lying if I said I thought the CGI de-aging (especially of De Niro) was seamless, because it’s not. It exists on a sliding scale between serviceable and odd, but it never reaches the point of detracting from any given scene. What’s particularly exciting about seeing Robert De Niro and Joe Pesci back together in a Scorsese picture (for the first time since 1995!) is that they’re not merely playing variants on roles they’ve played before; this is new territory for both of them. De Niro’s persona tends to lend itself to playing guys on the upper end of the food chain, but here, he’s playing a pure subordinate, one who has big connections, sure, but who is fundamentally there to follow orders. As the situation gets gradually more complex, the weight pressing down on Sheeran is extremely well-portrayed by De Niro. And Pesci is particularly great in this -- when you think of Pesci in a mob-related part, you naturally think of a certain kind of performance, but that’s not what he’s doing here at all. He conveys the sense that he’s a regular, decent guy, and only occasionally allows darker, more chilling moments to filter to the surface. It’s a quiet and reserved performance, and it’s one of his best ever. As Jimmy Hoffa, Al Pacino is... well, Pacino. BIG Pacino. Scenery-chewing Pacino. But somehow, it’s not over-the-top, and it feels appropriate for the stubborn and outsized personality this tale’s version of Hoffa is. It’s undeniably fun to watch Pacino tear into things with this kind of gusto. Finally having Pacino in a Martin Scorsese film has been a long time coming, and it was worth the wait. It’s way too soon to start talking about placing THE IRISHMAN alongside Scorsese’s other masterpieces, but it’s unquestionably a powerful and engrossing work that closes the book on his crime films, and it’s one of 2019’s best. By Brett Blake DOCTOR SLEEP is a quite engrossing... but also odd and awkward... adaptation of Stephen King’s sequel to THE SHINING. It’s a fascinating movie in the sense that all the individual pieces, choices, and performances are thoroughly compelling, and it tells its story with confident filmmaking, but it is also operating in the shadow of Stanley Kubrick’s 1980 film version of THE SHINING, which this movie embraces, but which also results in something that feels extremely uneasy. It’s worth saying right here -- because much of the rest of my time will be spent digging into why the movie feels so strange -- that I think DOCTOR SLEEP is a quite good film. It’s very well-staged by director Mike Flanagan, and his screenplay adaptation of King’s novel captures the sensitive and introspective qualities of this story of adult Dan Torrance dealing with the trauma that his experiences during THE SHINING inflicted upon him. Ewan McGregor is equal to the task of performing the role, and he manages to convey Dan’s internalized conflicts very well. As the pivotal character of Abra Stone, a young girl who can also Shine like Dan, Kyliegh Curran is extremely sympathetic, getting across with ease the sense that this girl is precociously curious about her abilities, perhaps a bit reckless, and also contains an untapped well of internal strength. The performance of the movie, however, belongs to Rebecca Ferguson as the villainous Rose the Hat, the leader of a group of psychic vampires who prey on those with the ability to Shine, which sets them on the trail of Abra and Dan. Rather than purely chewing scenery (though there’s a bit of that), Ferguson makes Rose feel like a complete character, not just a collection of “bad gal” tropes wrapped up in one tidy and convenient package. We can tell she’s having fun in the part, but she plays the character’s menace completely straight, and she makes this character probably the best villain in any movie this year. So all of that is good-to-great stuff. But here’s where things get strange, though not necessarily in an objectively bad way -- DOCTOR SLEEP is not scary. There are a couple of moments that are shocking, and its general atmosphere is strong, but it in no way offers the overpowering dread that THE SHINING does. I would expect that people who walk into this movie with no knowledge of its source book may walk out kind of perplexed by what they’ve just witnessed. Yes, it deals with the supernatural, and yes, great acts of evil are depicted, but on a tonal level, this is much more introspective and cerebral than it is genuinely spooky. It’s a character study dressed-up in horror trappings, ultimately more concerned with the emotional stories of Dan and Abra than it is in unnerving the audience to any great degree. It’s cashing-in on the iconography of one of horror cinema’s towering achievements... yet it is pretty uninterested in even trying to replicate the intensity of the frightening mood with which Kubrick’s THE SHINING is infused. And in that sense, it’s very faithful to the book, so credit to Flanagan. But in attempting to meld Kubrick’s THE SHINING with King’s DOCTOR SLEEP novel (which approach things from radically different angles and intentions), we are left with something of an uneasy balancing act. In a vacuum, the finale -- which returns us to the sinister Overlook Hotel from Kubrick’s film -- does provide a more satisfying and cinematic conclusion than the conclusion of King’s novel (which, essentially, takes place on a vacant lot in the Rockies), but when you really look at it through the lens of the movie trying to thread the needle and serve multiple masters, it feels awkward. Technically well-executed and visually interesting, sure, but somehow jarring and out-of-place. At the end of the day, I think this film proves that it is not possible to make something that is both a faithful sequel to Stanley Kubrick’s THE SHINING and a faithful adaptation of Stephen King’s DOCTOR SLEEP. Kubrick’s vision of THE SHINING's story remains too different from King’s own, so for Flanagan to attempt to wrap them both together here and hopefully arrive at some kind of fusion is valiant and admirable, but -- ultimately -- kind of ineffective. The movie is never not compelling, however, and devoted fans of the novel will likely find a great deal in here to be pleased about. Its intentions are very much coming from a good place, and that does count for something. By Brett Blake If you thought Christopher Nolan’s interpretation of Gotham City and the Batman characters was grounded, JOKER is operating on a whole other level of seriousness; it’s a stark, harsh, and extremely hard-hitting picture of a city in a state of utter decay, and one increasingly-deranged individual who wants to see it pushed over the edge. The film is not terribly dependent on an intricate plot, and is more concerned with painting a portrait of Joaquin Phoenix’s Arthur Fleck and the city in which he lives. Struggling with deep mental and emotional problems, Arthur envisions himself as a stand-up comic as a kind of means of escape from his daily problems (both at home and at work, where he is a “professional” rent-a-clown). When a subway confrontation involving Arthur turns violent, he soon discovers that his actions have kick-started a growing movement of dangerous unrest in Gotham... and have also opened the door to his latent madness. Joaquin Phoenix, it has to be said, is truly phenomenal here. From his emaciated appearance to his compulsive, almost painful laugh (which he has no control over), Phoenix fully inhabits this character in a striking way. Fundamentally, the movie is an origin story, so the bulk of the movie does not see Phoenix in full-on Joker mode, but once he gets there, he’s chilling and magnetic (though he’s really magnetic throughout). In a certain sense, I think a case could be made that JOKER is the ultimate presentation of the Joker character on film. Not because Phoenix’s performance is necessarily “definitive” (though, as I’ve said, he’s excellent), but because the movie itself has a sensibility about it that hits upon a key facet of the character that hasn’t really been explored on film before. Jack Nicholson got to play the “Clown Prince of Crime” angle, Heath Ledger got to do the “Joker as ideological/philosophical opponent of Batman” element, and here, Phoenix is playing the “Joker as cultural/societal provocateur” aspect. This movie is intentionally, deliberately provocative. It wants to elicit a reaction from you, and it pushes various buttons on order to do so... just as the Joker character himself so often has done in the comic books. There has been much hand-wringing in online circles about whether it’s “responsible” for the movie to depict its title character in a way that is utterly human and quite frank about mental illness (the concern tends to be that to do so necessarily will make an audience sympathetic towards a type of person who, in the opinion of those with such concerns, doesn’t deserve it); however, that is not what JOKER is about about at all. It’s a condemnation of callousness, not an excuse for extremism. The former does not require the latter. The film never shies away from the fact that it is an origin tale of a villain. Arthur is an extremely compelling character, and there’s something engrossing about his descent into utter madness and criminality, but at no point does it ask us to root for him; when the last act kicks into gear and Arthur’s Joker persona takes over in full force, his actions are depicted as evil and insane, albeit with a sort of “I can’t look away!” approach that is captivating. From a technical perspective, the film is quite well made. Writer/director Todd Phillips has reached deep within himself and emerged with a movie deserving of high marks in all craft categories. It’s strange to describe a film this unflinching and dour as “beautifully-shot,” but in JOKER’s case, it’s true; Lawrence Sher’s cinematography makes the movie look textured, and it sells the early 1980s setting effectively, as does the production design by Mark Friedberg. Additionally, the musical score by Hildur Guðnadóttir is terrifically unsettling, and it charts Arthur’s mental state very well. Now, JOKER is not without flaw. Though it runs only slightly more than two hours, the midsection sags considerably; the first act sets things up very efficiently, and the third act descends into the madness with appropriate visceral flair, yet there’s a chunk of the story -- after Arthur’s inciting incident in the subway, but before he goes full Joker -- where we see some variations on situations that start to get a touch repetitive. This middle act is also where a bit of plot involving the Wayne (as in Bruce Wayne) family comes into play, and the way some of this is handled might not sit right with some. It’s entirely subjective, but how Waynes are portrayed is not tremendously flattering, so depending on how much of a comic book purist you are, your mileage may vary in terms of how well this section of the movie works for you. By this point, though, it’s hopefully apparent that JOKER is not your typical comics blockbuster, nor is it your typical adaptation of this legendary villain. It’s dark, it’s sometimes uncomfortable to watch, but it’s ultimately thought-provoking (in a good way), and as a vehicle for Phoenix to deliver one of the performances of his career, the movie just works. By Brett Blake Far more than the first film, IT: CHAPTER TWO ultimately kind of makes the case that to adapt Stephen King’s epic horror novel faithfully requires a final film that is structurally imperfect. CHAPTER TWO is packed with great moments and individual scenes, but it’s also extremely disjointed, moves in fits-and-starts, and has an extended running time that is in no way justified by the actual requirements of the plot. Picking up 27 years after the events of the first IT (which will hereafter be referred to as CHAPTER ONE, even though that isn’t technically its actual title), CHAPTER TWO finds the titular entity emerging from dormancy in Derry, Maine, to prey upon the weak, which results in the now-adult Losers Club, who thought they had beaten It as kids, returning to town to finish what they started and vanquish It once and for all. To start with some positive elements, the conceit of the adult portion of the story -- that the characters literally have forgotten what happened to them when they were kids -- is a perfect metaphor for repressing trauma, and this element of the novel carries over into CHAPTER TWO in quite an effective way. We get the sense that, even though most of the grown-up Losers went on to be successful after leaving Derry (and blocking out the horrors experienced there), they are kind of broken people who have superficially gotten past those horrible events, but have not truly faced them and vanquished them. This time around, defeating It for good means facing and reckoning with their past, and not all of the adult Losers are emotionally equipped for that, which makes for some fine drama. Additionally, CHAPTER TWO is kind of shockingly big-hearted when it comes to these characters, even more than the previous movie, and the resolution of their story manages to pack a moving and affecting punch. Also, the cast members are universally very good. Returning as Pennywise, It’s preferred form, Bill Skarsgård again delivers a sinister and quirky performance, and though he’s more sparingly used this time out, he remains the most memorable component. Of the adult Losers, Bill Hader is the clear standout as Richie; as one would naturally expect, he gets some of the funniest lines, but what’s surprising is the level of emotion that is present underneath the humor. If there were any questions regarding Hader’s range, this performance should resoundingly answer them. Structurally, however, the screenplay has some serious difficulties. In comparison to CHAPTER ONE, which had a much cleaner and more straightforward throughline, CHAPTER TWO feels much more scattered and cluttered. The first hour or so is particularly tough, as we are bounced from character re-introduction to character re-introduction, which means it takes a LONG time for the actual narrative to begin to progress. The individual scenes are good, but there’s a disjointed vibe at play among them. Additionally, this movie -- unlike the first -- utilizes flashbacks of the Losers as kids interspersed with the “Present Day” adult Losers story, and while this could be an admirable attempt to bring some of the structure of King’s novel to the screen (the book notoriously unfolds in both time periods simultaneously, jumping back and forth), it comes across as too much of a stylistic break with the approach of CHAPTER ONE; it also serves to make the proceedings feel quite drawn out, and needlessly so, since the flashbacks don’t truly add anything of significant narrative importance and seem to have been included just to get the kids back into this movie. This stuff is almost entirely extraneous. And even with the blessing of a nearly 170-minute running time, the screenplay doesn’t service all of the characters in the most full way possible. Bill and Beverly, arguably the two most important (emotionally) of the Losers in CHAPTER ONE, here are somewhat underwritten, as is Ben, and given that the semi love triangle between these three characters (both as kids and adults) is one of the lynchpins of the novel’s character development, undercooking it in this movie is a bit of a disservice to the work done in CHAPTER ONE to really set it up in an organic and believable way. CHAPTER ONE felt like a movie that knew it had something to prove. CHAPTER TWO feels like a movie that is a bit impressed with itself. That is not necessarily an overtly bad thing, but it’s a noticeable shift that leaves one with the vague awareness that the film is intentionally being a little cute. While that can be fun, and does make for a tone that is definitely aiming to please the audience, the stakes feel a bit minimized as a result. But even so, this is a big and handsome production, boasting good work from all the performers, as well as a strong emotional core. Flawed though it is, horror fans and Stephen King fans should be happy that a film of this scale has made its way to theaters, and that it -- at least thematically and emotionally -- captures the essence of what King was trying to achieve with the novel. By Brett Blake Every new Quentin Tarantino film is an event, made even more so by his pledge to retire from directing after his tenth picture. ONCE UPON A TIME... IN HOLLYWOOD is (by his particular math) his ninth, and though it is the weakest he’s made in over a decade, it is still an entertaining, idiosyncratic, and engaging piece of work, and it lives up to being billed as an “event” even if it is far from flawless. The film centers around Rick Dalton (Leonardo DiCaprio) and Cliff Booth (Brad Pitt), an actor and his stuntman, respectively, who find themselves unsure of their futures in the Hollywood of 1969. Dalton’s career has taken a downward turn, forcing him to accept “Guest Starring” roles on TV shows, and he feels as though he’s just about washed-up, a feeling compounded by the presence of his newly-successful neighbors, director Roman Polanski and his wife, actress Sharon Tate (Margot Robbie). And that’s really all that can be said about the plot. Not because of spoilers (though there are “spoilery” developments that a person wouldn’t want to know going in), but because that really is the extent of the capital-P Plot. This is one of the most narratively-unfocused screenplays Tarantino has written so far, which actually may not be a huge criticism depending on ones taste. It opens strong and closes REALLY strong, but the midsection sags in a quite pronounced way. The middle hour has a bit of an aimless, listless quality that threatens to feel like pure bloat at times (and many may find it to be pure bloat rather than just a threat of such). Tarantino is kind of known for expanded running times, and he often seems to relish taking his time and allowing the audience to just sort of exist with his characters during quite lengthy scenes, but this movie takes that to a whole other level. Nobody could be faulted for coming away thinking this second act is quite self-indulgent. At the same time, all the individual scenes are strong; it’s just that some ultimately feel less essential in advancing a plot. To the extent that there is a plot, anyway. This is easily Tarantino’s most laid-back film since JACKIE BROWN, and it seems to delight in being fairly free-wheeling and expansive with its subject. Tarantino eschews plot momentum in favor of letting scenes with these characters breathe (really breathe), and while that does result in some fabulous moments, it’s hard to get a handle on where it’s all headed (and not in a “I can’t wait to see where this goes!” way, but a “Really, where is this going?” way). It has a story -- an actor and his stuntman navigate the changing waters of Hollywood while keeping their friendship intact -- but not a terribly strong narrative. It’s more a series of semi-connected incidents... followed by an ending. Things do eventually click into place for that climax, but by that point, it’s very possible that the movie’s distinct lack of tension and intrigue up until then may have already resulted in some viewers mentally checking out. That didn’t happen for me, but it almost certainly will for some. In the script’s favor, however, is its tone, which is almost shockingly good-natured, even affable. What it lacks in a grandiose scheme or caper or mystery, it makes up for with a truly affectionate look at the cinema and television of the late 1960s. You can feel, perhaps more here than in any of his other films because of this specific subject matter, Tarantino’s unadulterated love for this stuff pouring off the screen at basically every moment. Coupled with that, the central friendship between DiCaprio’s Rick Dalton and Pitt’s Cliff Booth is really quite wonderful, perhaps even approaching downright sweet. Both performers ace these parts, and while Pitt - on the surface - has the more conventionally “fun” role, DiCaprio performs a quite impressive juggling act of making Dalton kind of comically pathetic at times, but also sad in a way that gets us on his side and keeps us there when the more abrasive parts of his personality (heightened by booze) rise to the surface. The supporting ensemble players all do some very fine work, as well. Margot Robbie as Sharon Tate is more an embodiment of an idea than an actual, rounded character, but Robbie is thoroughly charming and sunny throughout. The likes of Al Pacino and Kurt Russell, both old pros by this point, pop up for some fun cameo-style bits that remind us they’re actually quite adept at comedy. In fact, there’s a lot of comedy in here. I’d classify ONCE UPON A TIME... IN HOLLYWOOD as more a comedy than anything else, actually. Tarantino’s ear for dialogue remains incredibly impressive, and he crafts more chuckle-eliciting exchanges and beats here than you’ll probably find in any other movie this year. And without getting spoilery, the movie is ultimately a rather positive statement from Tarantino. It doesn’t have a rousing, crowd-pleasing finale of the sort that INGLOURIOUS BASTERDS and DJANGO UNCHAINED delivered, but it also doesn’t leave the viewer with the bleak discomfort of THE HATEFUL EIGHT. I left the movie feeling like I'd been on a (very long and very winding) journey that was ultimately worth the time it took to take... but perhaps only just barely. This is clearly the movie Tarantino set out to make, and we should always appreciate when a filmmaker is given the chance to play out his vision on such a large scale, especially when the final product is, on balance, a good one. By Brett Blake While it still doesn’t top director Sam Raimi’s SPIDER-MAN 2, I can pretty confidently say that SPIDER-MAN: FAR FROM HOME is the best Spider-Man movie to be released since that masterpiece back in 2004. It’s far from flawless, but a pair of very strong performances and a story that really “gets” Peter Parker are more than enough to pull it across the finish line. Following the events of AVENGERS: ENDGAME, Peter Parker (Tom Holland) is eager to relax with his high school classmates on a European field trip, and hopefully make his feelings known to his crush, M.J. (Zendaya). Fate has other plans, however, as Peter is soon recruited by Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) to help Quentin Beck AKA Mysterio (Jake Gyllenhaal) -- a superhero from another dimension! -- defeat a series of elemental monsters that are wreaking havoc in Europe and threaten the existence of the planet itself. FAR FROM HOME is really a tale of two halves, one of which is considerably more interesting than the other. One half, which focuses squarely on Peter Parker’s high school relationships, is charming and breezy enough, but it’s pretty slight stuff. Yes, it’s nice that the movie can accommodate some breathing room for Peter, and yes, it’s entertaining to see him bounce off his high school buddies, but it’s all - with really only one primary exception - rather inconsequential. Ample time is spent with Peter and his friends, and while it’s executed about as well as it probably could be, for most of this material I was just waiting patiently for the superheroic half of the story to kick back into gear. That superheroic half, which involves Peter becoming embroiled in the world-threatening plot involving Nick Fury and Mysterio is packed full of absolutely fantastic stuff... most of which I can’t talk about because the movie’s trailers did an excellent job of side-stepping much of what’s really going on with the story here. I will, however, just say this: Jake Gyllenhaal absolutely NAILS the character of Mysterio. As a big fan of Mysterio from the comics, I have been skeptical that he could translate well into live action, but FAR FROM HOME delivers a version that is both very faithful to the core of the character, while also making him work in a 2019 motion picture. And Gyllenhaal brings layers to the part that remind us that he’s one of the very best actors working today. His Mysterio is unquestionably the highlight of the movie. The movie also does a very good job of exploring the implications of what happened in AVENGERS: INFINITY WAR and AVENGERS: ENDGAME. Specifically, Tony Stark’s fate hangs heavy over the proceedings and Peter, especially, who can sense Iron Man’s legacy looming. This informs Peter’s character arc here, which - without getting too specific - sees him taking steps into a more adult and responsibility-laden role. In that sense, FAR FROM HOME is a pretty classic Spider-Man story, as the best of those often found Peter grappling with balancing his ordinary personal life with his extraordinary gifts, and the responsibility he places on himself to use those gifts to help others... often at the expense of his personal life. This is one of the elements that makes Peter Parker such an appealing hero, and FAR FROM HOME aces this. A good amount of why this aspect of the story works so well is because of Tom Holland’s performance. He is intensely likable as Peter, and he brings some wonderfully awkward charm to the table. But he’s also adept at conveying all of the conflicting feelings and desires in Peter’s heart; there are some moments in here of wordless acting from Holland that not only show off just how much he clearly understands the character intimately, but also how truly skilled he is at hitting the heart of a dramatic moment. Holland is the complete package, and the best Peter Parker/Spider-Man we have yet seen. The action scenes are all solid... if also a bit unremarkable. Spidey’s powers are used inventively and creatively, but much of the focus is on the character battling what are, essentially, giant monsters, and this places some limitations on the way the setpieces are constructed. There are other sequences, however, such one involving Mysterio... well, showing some things to another character... that are absolutely tremendous and seem ripped right out of comic book artwork. One area of slight disappointment is Michael Giacchino’s score. His returning main Spider-Man theme (from HOMECOMING) remains effective and terrific fun, and he introduces a key new theme for Mysterio that has some interesting versatility, but for the most part, FAR FROM HOME’s score is either very light comedy stuff or thundering action, neither of which showcase Giacchino at the top of his game. He can do great work in both of those modes, but here it sounds sort of pedestrian, like he had a very short window of time to write the thing and had to take a few creative shortcuts. The score is fine, but when somebody of the stature of Michael Giacchino (an Oscar-winner and personal favorite of mine) churns out something that’s just fine... it has to be seen as a missed opportunity. This is nitpick territory, of course. If only the “high school European vacation” section of the movie was a bit stronger, FAR FROM HOME might have challenged SPIDER-MAN 2 for the crown. But even so, as it stands, this is a quality Spider-Man adventure, which should never be taken for granted, and if its final moments are any indication, there are even more interesting stories yet to come for Tom Holland’s interpretation of this character. By Brett Blake The fact that ANNABELLE COMES HOME actually has some legitimately borderline-great elements (more on these below) only serves to underline just how frustrating it is to report that its scares simply are not up to snuff. Director Gary Dauberman is clearly somebody who knows his way around a camera, and he executes what the script gives him. Unfortunately, he’s also the writer, and that is where the problem resides. The screenplay's attempts at fright are just an endless series of variations on the same scene: a character creeps around a room or a hallway, sees or hears something peculiar, and then a specter pops out at the camera. Virtually every jump scare is telegraphed, and virtually every jump scare gets its jump from a loud stinger on the soundtrack. This is where James Wan’s two proper CONJURING films distinguish themselves and leave the rest of the “CONJURING Universe” in the dust. His jump scares are always staged with a certain amount of inventiveness, a certain amount of quirkiness, which keeps them unpredictable and unusual. There is no invention here. No artistry. Sure, the scares are technically competent (they’re well-framed and shot), but it’s all so predictable. Wan knows how to make jump scares feel like breathless fun; Dauberman’s efforts just sit there with a feeling of dull inevitability. I’ve got nothing against jump scares when done well. Great ones can be extremely memorable and effective... but if that’s all you’ve got in the bag of tricks... you’re not likely to be crafting a lasting experience that will stick with people. Now, all of that said, if you set aside the scares issue, there is some high quality stuff in here. Its hook -- which posits that the evil entity clinging to the Annabelle doll is so malignant and malicious that it allows other dark spirits to manifest -- is a great one, and the decision to marry that with what is basically a “teenage girls’ spooky sleepover” sort of tale gives the movie an enjoyable R.L. Stine/GOOSEBUMPS sort of flavor. Like last year’s THE NUN, the film also looks very good. It’s genuinely moody, and features some quite intriguing usage of light and color. Also, the designs of the various ghosts and ghouls have a just-slightly-tongue-in-cheek quality to them that gives them a throwback vibe; if they were in a better-written movie that knew how to use them for anything other than jolting the audience, this would be a quite effective roster of creeps. It also at times feels like a souped-up version of a “TV Horror Movie of the Week” from the 1970s, and as a fan of a lot of those productions, I mean that in a good way. Despite the expanded roster of demons and creatures, it keeps the scale pretty restrained, and wisely resists trying to go “bigger” than THE NUN, which remains the most bombastic installment of the CONJURING series so far. It also has a leisurely pace that might be too slow for some but which worked for me... because the three central girls in this story are very good protagonists and worth spending time with. These characters are the reason to see the movie and sit through the lackluster scares. They feel real, are grounded in identifiable emotional territory, and they behave - for the most part - in ways that are plausible given what we know about them. McKenna Grace has a somewhat sad, haunted quality that makes it very easy to root for her, but she also displays surprising strength; opposite her, Madison Iseman and Katie Sarife take what could have been extremely standard “types” and invest them with just enough personality to make them memorable. The movie actually cares about these characters, and that’s refreshing to see when teenagers are so often used just for body count fodder in horror movies (fun though that may sometimes be!). So ANNABELLE COMES HOME is a mixed bag. The substandard scares are genuinely frustrating, but the characters and production around them are strong enough that I come down slightly on the positive side of things. By Brett Blake This is a completely unnecessary movie, but it’s also surprisingly watchable and a fair amount of fun for fans of this sort thing, primarily because of a terrific vocal performance from Mark Hamill, nifty kills, and a strong cast doing some good work. The setup is a simple one: when a single mom (Aubrey Plaza) gives her son, Andy (Gabriel Bateman), the hottest new toy - a high-tech doll equipped with smart and A.I. capabilities - neither would expect that the doll, named Chucky (voiced by Mark Hamill), actually has the potential to be a dangerous killing machine, willing to cut down anybody that might come between it and Andy. It stumbles in the sense that you can feel the film sort of torn between trying to be a proper CHILD’S PLAY movie while also attempting to do its own thing (particularly in terms of explaining why Chucky is evil). One gets the vague sense that the filmmakers would probably have rather not been so directly tethered to an existing franchise, and instead been allowed to take their “smart tech goes bad” ideas into more dynamic and unexpected directions. Whenever the story starts to veer too far into new territory, we can feel it colliding with the CHILD’S PLAY template guide rails, and that results in story beats that are wholly unsurprising. At its weakest, the film predictably hits some rather tired marks that anybody who has seen ANY horror movies of this sort will be able to see coming. Beyond that, however, there is actually plenty of legitimately solid stuff in the movie. Chiefly, the dynamic that develops and evolves between Andy and Chucky gives the story a strong spine and a unique element when compared to the original movie. In this version of the narrative, the characters actually have a semi-bond that comes about before things turn sour, and Mark Hamill’s vocal performance when in non-overtly-evil mode is actually kind of affecting. All this Chucky wants - at first, anyway - is to be played with and loved by Andy. Hamill sells why this toy would be popular, and opposite him, Gabriel Bateman equally sells how a lonely kid would be sucked in by it. On paper, Aubrey Plaza should probably not be the first choice to play “Concerned Mom” in a horror movie; she’s got a natural edge to her that would seem likely to be at odds with arriving at genuine emotional. And yet... she’s actually quite good here. True, she plays her as the “cool” and “hip” mom, but there’s more range on display than one might have expected. Brian Tyree Henry is also quite solid as the detective investigating Chucky’s misdeeds, and he brings a fair amount of grounded humor to the movie that works well. Additionally, the movie is bolstered by a very strong score from Bear McCreary, who has followed-up his recent (and excellent) GODZILLA: KING OF THE MONSTERS score with another winner here. His primary theme has the feel of a dark lullaby, and the orchestrations - using odd, “children’s toy” sounds - give it a unique and off-kilter feeling. And then there’s the violence! This new CHILD’S PLAY doesn’t shortchange us when it comes to some gruesome bloodletting; in fact, some of the kills here are surprisingly splattery and refreshingly done-for-real. It’s not overly gratuitous stuff (okay, maybe it is a little), but it adds some nice, extra shocks periodically throughout. The movie is under no illusions about being anything other than what it is, and leaning into the fun kills seems like a pretty smart choice that worked out (for me, at least). This movie is not the most amazing thing ever, or anything like that, and it doesn’t top the original CHILD’S PLAY as the best entry in this franchise... but it is enjoyable for the work of the performers and for the effective horror violence. In an era where genre remakes can so easily be truly awful, the fact that this is modestly entertaining is a win. |
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