FRENCH EXIT

Michelle Pfeiffer     Lucas Hedges     Valerie Mahaffey     Imogen Poots

Susan Coyne     Isaach De Bankole     and the voice of Tracy Letts

     Could there be a more unlikely group to be together in Paris?  The movie takes a while in getting you/them there. It starts out with Frances Price (Pfeiffer) learning—although not for the first time of being told—that she is out of money.  Obviously, from her home, to the way she is dressed, and the places she frequents, she is used to high style living.  She takes her financial manager’s advice and sells her valuables, giving her a tidy sum of money, which would last a lifetime for a frugal person. That, Frances is not.  

     When her best friend Joan (Coyne) learns of her plight, she offers her apartment in Paris, which she rarely uses.  This creates a new problem for Frances' devoted son Malcolm (Hedges), who has just become engaged but hasn’t told her.  It quickly becomes apparent that Malcolm is completely dependent on his mother for money, so he has to tell his fiancé Susan (Poots) goodbye the next day—but of course he wants her to wait for him, even though he has no idea when he will return.

     What is sure to be a capricious journey with this mother-son duo constitutes the plot, involving very odd and unpredictable people pulled into their story as they proceed across the sea on a ship and arrive in Paris, smuggled cat in tow. But the most unpredictable of all is seductive Frances.  She (artfully played by Pfeiffer) tops them all in eccentricity.

     The movie is a farce that one can enjoy (Oh, for the theater popcorn in these Covid-19 times!) by not taking it too seriously and if you can vicariously enjoy living a carefree life with stacks of Euro notes resting on the shelf in your closet.

     Not entirely without some degree of redeeming value, the movie shows honesty among the homeless, waiters, and other average citizens, who try to give back absurd amounts of cash liberally distributed by our heroine.  Emotional health, forgiveness, and honesty come from the effusive Mme. Reynaud (Mahaffey), the type of woman Frances has in the past spurned with a flip of her sarcastic tongue.  

   Interestingly—and perhaps quite intentionally—references to death become a theme throughout this bizarre movie in its appearance in Frances’ overall plan, another dead husband, and séances with Frances’ own dead husband and his association with her black cat.  Perhaps the black cat is a warning about choosing a compromised lifestyle over a more comfortable one.

 A light confection, French Exit will amuse those who are at least a bit philosophical about life.

 

Grade:  C+                                    By Donna R. Copeland

MALEFICENT: MISTRESS OF EVIL

Angelina Jolie     Elle Fanning     Michelle Pfeiffer     Harris Dickinson    Chiwetel Ejiofor

Lesley Manville     Imelda Staunton     Juno Temple     Sam Riley

     Fairy tale land—one never knows what to expect as to what will come up.  In this version following on the previous Maleficent (2014) (both starring by Angelina Jolie in the title role), her goddaughter Aurora (Fanning) is grown up and falling in love with Prince Philip (Dickinson).  As expected, he has fallen in love with the son of the King and Queen of Ulstead, a human tribe with a history of conflict with the Moors, Maleficent’s land of the fairies.  An awkward dinner takes place initiated by Philip’s mother, Queen Ingrith.

     Maleficent is reluctant to go, but for the sake of Aurora, she agrees, and they all come together; but tensions abound, as happens when two very different cultures eat together.  Major conflicts ensue, with misunderstandings and subterfuge aplenty, and suddenly Maleficent disappears.  Where she goes propels the story forward and gives us insight into her origins and an explanation for what is to appear in the rest of the film.

     As before, Jolie embodies her character in all its dimensions and power, and Fanning provides balance in her tenderness and rationality.  Although she is a good actress, Michelle Pfeiffer as Queen Ingrith seems miscast in that she simply doesn’t come across strongly enough with the qualities called for by her character.  I can’t say any more so as not to spoil the plot.  Harris Dickinson as Prince Philip didn’t wow me as someone heroic, but I assume that is a function of the script, and the same goes for Robert Lindsay as King John.  Ed Skrein as Borra (one of Maleficent’s newly discovered tribe) is the only male who is a counterpart to Jolie’s and Pfeiffer’s female characters in strength.

     To me, the problems arising during this tale are related primarily to the unsuccessful attempt to insert actions that are clearly contemporary into a fairy tale. One example is Aurora coaching her mother on social manners.  Now, sophisticated Maleficent has been around the whole world and is familiar with such things as social graces, so having it seem as if she is being coached on what to do at a dinner party seems laughable.  I had the same impression when Aurora’s simple “woodsy” dress at one point is magically changed by Maleficent to one that looks like a contemporary Neiman Marcus creation.  Just as in the earlier film, the viewer is yanked back and forth between the fairy world and our reality-based one.

     As before in the 2014 version, the opening scenes in this sequel are so dark it’s impossible to know what is going on.  There is a battle, but who is who cannot be distinguished.  I still don’t know who the warring parties are.

     Finally, there is a disconnect between the ending of the earlier film and the beginning of this one in which Maleficent seems to have reverted to her previous maliciousness.  No explanation is given for this, or perhaps the viewers are just being led down a garden path. (More jerking around.)

     This second Maleficent doesn’t measure up to the first one, which is too bad, since there was an opportunity here to tell a story like a fairy tale that speaks to contemporary concerns (e.g., war vs. peace). But the way war and peace are dealt with here is no different from…how many movies and actual events?

     In the end, it’s not clear whom this film was made for other than the pockets of those invested in it monetarily.  Much of the story as presented will go over the heads of most children; and it is likely to be simplistic (meaningless?) to many adults.

If you love a good fairy tale, stay away from this one.

Grade:  D                                    By Donna R. Copeland

MURDER ON THE ORIENT EXPRESS

Kenneth Branagh     Penelope Cruz     Willem Dafoe     Judi Dench     Johnny Depp     Michelle Pfeiffer

Daisy Ridley     Leslie Odom, Jr.     Josh Gad     Derek Jacobi     Olivia Colman

            Murder on the Orient Express should be an exciting, engaging, production of a beloved author’s work (Agatha Christie).  Kenneth Branagh, more acclaimed as an actor than a director, fills both roles here, but is not exemplary in either, and perhaps the script (Michael Green) bears some of the responsibility.  A good detective story subtly plants clues, explicates the detective’s reasoning process, and guides the reader along in the story.  But the story here comes across as too convoluted to make sense.  I found a number of problems in this production, foremost being Branagh as Poirot, a role stamped in my mind as a David Suchet character.  Although Branagh attempts to convey the preciseness and impressive deductive abilities of Poirot, these simply do not come across clearly; they’re too English (rather than Belgian), and rather than a neat mustache, Branagh sports what looks like a gray rag across his upper lip. 

            Many of the first scenes on the inside of the train are hazy, dark and difficult to discern what is taking place, despite the work of talented production designer, Jim Clay, and cinematographer, Haris Zambarloukos. 

            The fault cannot be in the stars; the cast for this film being a large group of highly accomplished actors, including Branagh, along with Penelope Cruz, Michelle Pfeiffer, Judi Dench, Derek Jacobi, Willem Dafoe, Leslie Odom, Jr., Josh Gad, Daisy Ridley, and Olivia Colman.  Johnny Depp is on the screen only briefly, but plays his role well.

            The plot adheres loosely to the novel, in which a group of passengers board the Orient Express in Istanbul bound for numerous European stations along the way; but the train derails in a storm, and the passengers are stranded until repairs can be made.  During this time, a murder is committed, and with Poirot on board, he is called upon to solve the case, despite his being on holiday.  Earlier, he had been approached by the victim, asking for his protection, because the man was convinced that someone was out to kill him.  The man wants to prevent a murder (his) before it happens.  Poirot refuses for reasons he states very clearly.  When the murder does take place, Poirot must solve the crime, which is the only intriguing part of this film, but delivered in a way that is hard to follow with the flurry of names and historical events.

This film seems to be a big miss for an Agatha Christie story.

Grade:  D+                                    By Donna R. Copeland

mother!

Jennifer Lawrence     Javier Bardem     Ed Harris     Michelle Pfeiffer    

Brian Gleeson     Domhnall Gleeson     Kristen Wiig

      mother! could be seen as an allegory, one about an artist’s insatiable need for love and admiration.  The story begins in an ordinary way, with a young couple, played by Jennifer Lawrence and Javier Bardem (they’re never given names, nor are any of the characters, making it seem even more like an allegory), living in what looks like an idyllic setting, a romantic old house belonging to his family they are refurbishing—well, actually she’s refurbishing it; he is a serious poet with strict boundaries around his writing room. 

     Home invasion #1 occurs when a man (Harris) suddenly appears at the door, and the poet invites him in, clearly delighting in what he says about the poet’s work.  Sometime after, another visitor arrives, and she turns out to be the man’s wife (Pfeiffer).  Ignoring his wife’s cautions, the poet magnanimously tells them they can stay as long as they please, also ignoring their sense of entitlement and bad behavior as guests.  After two sons of the guests (B Gleeson and D Gleeson) arrive, the family has a major dispute about a will that devolves into a trip to the hospital for one of them.

     After these guests leave, the poet and his wife have a period of blissful retreat, during which she gets pregnant and he finishes a major work.  She is so happy and hopeful, and he seems genuinely pleased.  Then home invasion #2 occurs after his book is published; hordes of fans, along with the publisher (Wiig) arrive to celebrate.  The mayhem is captured in many scenes to come.

     All the while, the house gives off creepy sounds and groans as if it were a character itself; blood stains appear and travel/transform with pungent meaning.  Occult signs and portents are everywhere.  Aronofsky seems to be making a major point about stardom and fandom, how they feed off one another, and how they can go out of control. 

     I’m a fan of Aranofsky, and like the idea of showing so graphically how artist and fan are so reciprocal, how the artist can be seduced at whatever cost, and how the mob mentality of fans seems to have no limits.  But in this film, I think he went over the top in prolonging the invasion scenes so that they take over the movie.  This gets tedious very quickly.  I did get a huge kick out of seeing the fans literally interpret the poet’s words to mean that when he says “share”, that entitles them to have what is his.

     Clearly, Jennifer Lawrence and Javier Bardem pulled out all the stops in their performances.  And Ed Harris and Michelle Pfeiffer, with their relatives (the Gleesons), are able to add a touch of the comedic to offset the horrors.  I wish Wiig’s appearances had been highlighted more, as she is so camera-grabbing in the brief times we see her.

Ah, yes, one of the successful artist’s challenges is managing fandom.

Grade:  C+                                    By Donna R. Copeland