THE SISTERS BROTHERS

John C. Reilly     Joaquin Phoenix     Jake Gyllenhaal     Riz Ahmed     Rutgar Hauer     Carol Kane

     Intelligent western may be an oxymoron to some, but in this case, I think it fits. Director Jacques Adiard directed and co-wrote the screenplay with Thomas Bidegain, based on a novel by Patrick DeWitt.  That Adiard is French, and this is his first English language film, makes it even more impressive, because much of the content has wry humor, references, and interesting emotional connections that ring true for the American setting.

     The film begins with a darkened picture that becomes punctuated with gunfire bursts seen in the dark, the galloping of horses, and finally a house coming into view, with gunmen killing everyone they see, apparently cold-heartedly (cinematographer Benoit Debie created this striking opening scene.)  The two gunmen doing the damage are Eli Sisters (Reilly) and his younger brother Charlie (Phoenix).  They work for The Commodore, whom we only get two glimpses of, who has vast international business operations he has to protect. At one point, there is a pertinent argument between the brothers as to whether the people they shot are victims vs. bad guys who have stolen from The Commodore.  This is just one example of the philosophical/social issues subtly discussed among characters.

     Two other characters that will come in contact with the Sisters Brothers are an unlikely pair, in that one, Hermann Kermit Warm (Ahmed), is a chemist (who has a formula for extracting gold from California streams) and the other The Commodore’s effete detective, John Morris (Gyllenhaal), from an upper class background.  The latter has been charged with joining up with the Sisters Brothers to get the formula from the chemist—whatever it takes.  How he got into the job will come out later.

     In introducing these four characters, Adiard plays with the well-known contrasts between the educated and people like the frontier-hardened, skilled sharp shooters.  Tidbits about their backgrounds are inserted from time to time, allowing a more detailed picture of them, in terms of who they are and how they got to where they are. Further information is gleaned from incidents and conversations that occur throughout the film so that, by the end, a plausible account of how this group of four men got together, their backgrounds and personal stories, and how they end up is made clear.  

     The four main actors are stunning in their portrayals of brothers and unlikely connections that are formed for expediencies of the moment.  John C. Reilly, Joaquin Phoenix, and Jake Gyllenhaal can always be relied upon to bring potency and flair to their characters.  Riz Ahmed meshes perfectly with these well-seasoned actors to, likely, assure him of a bright future.

     The film was shot in Spain, but clearly looks like the American northwest. Debie’s cinematography transports the scenes to this country beautifully and convincingly.  Renowned Alexandre Desplat lives up to his reputation for capturing the essence of every scene with his music, and for his first western, he drew on strains of Charlie Mingus’ jazz and Nicholas Cage-type music.  I especially love his quiet piano accompaniment in emotionally charged segments; for instance, in a mother’s home.

     This film has many strengths beyond those mentioned.  Elaborating further, the interactions between the two brothers bring into play sibling rivalry, father issues, family loyalty, and the roles the two have come to own, such as the older Eli feeling and taking responsibility for the younger Charlie, who is more impulsive, more outgoing, more assertive.  But true to life, caretaking roles are switched now and then.  John Morris and Hermann Kermit Warm come together in a conventional way, in the spark created in their first meeting, and then through conversations in which they discover they have shared views about the world and how they might achieve a common goal.

     Another feature of the film that I appreciate is the way violence is portrayed in appealing to more artistic, sensitive tastes rather than eliciting shock through gore.  We are spared one shot and only see the body with a pool of blood on the floor.  Or it’s done in a kind of humorous way, such as an insect crawling inside a mouth and reproducing(!).  

This is a film for those who relish creative productions that can incorporate a modern take on a beloved genre, and still sketch out three-dimensional characters that resonate with most people today.

Grade:  A                                    By Donna R. Copeland

THE WIFE

Glenn Close     Jonathan Pryce     Christian Slater     Max Irons     Elizabeth McGovern

     How many young wives have made the bargain of being a dutiful, adoring wife to their husbands with the tacit agreement that his career is top priority?  Countless, I would say, with most never realizing the long-term consequences of that bargain.  That’s Joan in the ‘50’s as a wide-eyed English student at Smith College taking a writing course from erudite Professor Castleman.  He praises her work—and asks her to babysit for him and his wife.  During that time, she is introduced to a female writer of some note—but not really famous—who advises her not to write, because publishers (who, at that time, are men) will not take women’s writing seriously.  Her books will end up only on university alumni shelves.

     It isn’t long before Joan and Joe are having an affair, and his divorce and their marriage come soon after.  But friction between them surfaces after she reads one of his manuscripts, which has been rejected by a publisher.  She critiques it honestly (and innocently), suggesting that the characters are “wooden” and the dialog “stilted”, and he goes into a narcissistic rage.  (Through the years, temper tantrums will continue to be one of his preferred methods for getting her to give into him.)  She responds by belittling herself and offering to “fix” the manuscript.  She is waiting tables at the time, and when she overhears men discounting writers who are women/Jewish, she runs home for “their” manuscript, gives it to the critical men, and sure enough, they agree to publish it.  Is there any mention of attaching her name as a co-author? No!  This is the fifties…

     The film opens on the cozy relationship between Joe Castleman (Pryce) and his wife Joan (Close), who have been married for years and have a daughter who’s pregnant with their first grandchild and a son, surly David (Irons), an aspiring writer. (Oedipal issues abound in the story, and are accounted for toward the end.)  Soon, jumping-on-the-bed rejoicing comes after an early morning call from Sweden informing Joe that he has won the Nobel Prize for literature. We get an “all is (almost) right with the world” vibe from the couple, and they head for Sweden along with their son David, who seems to be wishing he were anywhere else.  Clearly, Joan must constantly intervene in the men’s quarrels—which will make sense later on in the story.

     The rest of the film juxtaposes the luxurious Nobel surroundings and people with the Castleman family drama, one that realistically portrays the struggles families must undergo across time as new experiences and new events alter individuals in significant ways.  Everyone must adjust—some do so successfully, some not so admirably.  

     The Wife is based on a novel by Meg Wolitzer (screenplay by Jane Anderson) and skillfully directed by Bjorn Runge.  Although I usually don’t like films going back and forth in time, that arrangement works here in giving us some information in the present, then explaining it by showing past events.  The contrast between the Castleman couple’s coming together in the fifties and their experiences forty years later shows the turn of events that makes it seem topsy-turvy—but not if you pay attention to transitions.

     Humor, gut-wrenching interactions among characters, and apprehensions of all kinds keep the plot forging on while we sit transfixed, wondering how it will all turn out.  All this is beautifully dramatized by the actors.  Glenn Close is exemplary in her role as a woman of substance:  a delight, and a creative contributor, facilitator, arbiter, planner, and negotiator.  She is deserving of a major award.  As her foil, Jonathan Pryce is more than convincing as a self-obsessed dependent tyrant who has little insight in himself.  Max Irons is talented in portraying a range of characters, from FBI rogue agent (TV’s “Condor”) to disenchanted son with mountains of resentment; and Christian Slater is up to his usual portrayal of a formidable persona.

A family story outside the norm for “housewives.”

Grade:  A                                    By Donna R. Copeland

THE CHILDREN ACT

Emma Thompson     Stanley Tucci     Ben Chaplin     Fionn Whitehead     Rupert Vansittart

     The Children Act, based on the great British writer Ian McEwan’s book and screenplay, weaves a beautifully moving story told in a unique way, exploring the agony and the depths of differing perspectives involved in critical decision-making.  It could be the basis for one of the ethics workshops we’re all being required to attend these days.  Hopefully, in such events, it will be pointed out how helpful good psychotherapy could have been for the characters in this drama.

     The film stars the award-winning actress Emma Thompson as Milady (as female judges are referred to in Britain) Fiona Maye, a judge who must rule in difficult child cases using The Children Act, Britain’s guide for adjudicating in the interest of children.  We’re first told about a set of conjoined twins where the issue is to separate them or not.  Separation would mean that one would likely die, but not separating puts both lives in jeopardy.  I especially like that the film allows enough time for the audience to consider the arguments for and against in this and the following case.

     The next case we hear about is that of Adam Henry (Whitehead), a teenager (not yet 18 years old) whose Jehovah’s Witness adherent parents want to deny him treatment that would involve transfusion of blood, strictly forbidden in that religion.  Without it, he is not only likely to die, but it would be a painful death.  We see once again that Judge Maye is sincerely considering all the arguments in a fair and reasoned way, with the law firmly in her mind.  

     In this instance, however, in her commitment to making a reasoned decision, she breaks precedent and goes to visit Adam in the hospital to determine for herself that he is not being unduly influenced by his parents or church elders.  She is caught off-guard by the young man, who is obviously flattered by her visit and responds eagerly to her probing questions, clearly affirming his belief in the religion.  Beyond that, he is a budding guitar player (four lessons so far!) who insists on demonstrating his delight in what he has learned to the judge, who, unbeknownst to him, is an accomplished pianist.  She vocalizes the Yeats poem he has played the notes for, and he is clearly inspired by her presence and her knowledge.  

The visit is not entirely compliments and fun; when she asks Adam what he will think if she rules in the hospital’s favor, he quickly responds with “I would think Milady is an interfering busybody!” which brings a spontaneous, hearty laugh from her.

     Little does Milady realize how much she has touched Adam—and he, her—and what will ensue as a result.  It will hit chords in her that have remained long dormant.  The story is not just about her cases, Fiona is going through a trying time in her marriage to Jack (Tucci).  It seems her supreme dedication to her work is bringing up other considerations for him.  He has been patient (in a completely endearing way) with her total commitment to her work, but now, even though he still loves her dearly, he wants something in exchange.  In the interactions between them that we see, it is clear that her priority is her work, and she expects to continue on with their life as it is.  

     Through all this, it’s remarkable how closed Fiona is to emotional pulls from her husband or from her new admirer.  This, of course, makes her emotionally vulnerable, and the two relationships, juxtaposed as they are, will have profound effects on her.  Compliments to writer McEwan; all of what transpires is not only engaging, but reflects true human conditions and beliefs.

     Emma Thompson should be at the top of award lists this year for her performance in The Children Act; it’s demanding in its requirement for portraying a complex character with nuance and believability. Thompson hits every note and makes them vibrate in her hot and cold assessments of cases, her unexpected discovery of what ‘wild and free’ means, her genuine love for meaningful attachments, and her playfulness despite all the seriousness.  Stanley Tucci is a perfect foil for her character in his portrayal of a male who is loving but not useless (which some in the film complain about men in general, and might apply to some sentiments in today’s world), and one who is wise in matters of the heart.  Young Fionn Whitehead has earned some of his stripes in Christopher Nolan’s Dunkirk, and increases them here in his portrayal of a passionate teenager who knows his own mind. He made the character of Adam entirely believable and sympathetic.

     Richard Eyre’s direction of this masterpiece in blending so many elements is spot-on, including the perfect backdrop of Stephen Warbeck’s piano music and Andrew Dunn’s cinematography capturing expressiveness in human faces and a range of interior and exterior spaces in which the action takes place.

This is a perfect movie in which to see the human complexities professionals in law and healthcare face in their day-to-day work, but it’s also a thoroughly engaging story.

Grade:  A                                    By Donna R. Copeland

BEL CANTO

Julianne Moore     Ken Watanabe     Sebastian Roch     Ryo Kase     Maria Mercedes Coroy    Christopher Lambert

     A well-known American opera singer, a wealthy Japanese businessman, and South American politics all get mixed up together in this tense drama when the singer, Roxane Cross (Moore) is invited to give a concert in an unspecified Latin American country in honor of businessman Katsumi Hosokawa (Watanabe).  They all arrive at Vice-President Ochoa’s mansion—Japanese translator Gen (Kase)—in tow, barely get settled in the ritzy hacienda, and Roxane is just beginning her concert, when they are rudely interrupted by a guerilla group aiming to kidnap President Masuda.  The problem is that the President preferred watching a telenovela at home, so he isn’t present.  In that case, the commandos say, they’ll just wait for the others to fetch him.  

     This begins a long stint of the hostages being trapped and in a panic, even if it is in an elegant mansion.  Not only are we privy to constant negotiations, but as happens in such situations, relationships begin to form.  Katsumi is an avid opera fan, particularly of Roxane, so much so that when he was invited to the country in the interest of his establishing a company there, he had the foresight (nerve?) to say he would come only if Roxane would agree to give a concert.  When the two meet, sparks fly, and he becomes fascinated by more than her art.  Another developing attraction emerges between translator Gen and one of the guerrillas, Carmen (Coroy), which is obviously risky for her.  

     My book club read Ann Patchett’s novel, Bel Canto, which we found to be an entertaining thriller, and I expected the movie to be just as appealing.  However, I found it to be lacking slightly in the thrill aspect.  Certainly the accidental killing of one of the hostages early on creates tension, and Roxane’s invitation to sing in order to calm down an escalating situation at one point is intriguing.  In addition, Moore and Watanabe are at their usual level of excellence, and the dubbing of the voice of Renee Fleming for Roxane was so good.  In addition, the romance between Gen and Carmen carries excitement and curiosity.  Yet, something was lacking.

     Somehow, in the direction of Paul Weitz and the adaptation (Weitz and Anthony Weintraub), the story loses some of the “grab” of the novel.  I would guess that focusing more on the “romances” than on the negotiations is at fault.  

Bel Canto the movie strives to match the power of the novel, but falls just a bit short.

Grade:  B                                    By Donna R. Copeland

THE HOUSE WITH A CLOCK IN ITS WALLS

Jack Black     Cate Blanchett     Owen Vaccaro

Kyle MacLachlan     Renee Elise Goldsberry     Sunny Suljic

     In 1955, in an old mansion in New Zebedee, Michigan, strange and eerie things are going to happen.  Ten year-old Lewis (Vaccaro) is going to be moving in with his Uncle Jonathan (Black) after his parents were killed in a car accident, and he has no idea his uncle is a warlock. The house is sumptuous with a large bedroom for him—impressive!--But he will soon learn that things go bump—or something else—in the night.  He is alarmed at times, but he is a brave child, and even goes to investigate at times with his flashlight.  

     Then, Lewis is alarmed one night to see his uncle hacking into the wall with an axe, and even though his uncle’s strange neighbor Mrs. Zimmerman (Blanchett) urges Jonathan to reveal “secrets” to Lewis, that doesn’t happen.  It’s a bit strange anyway to hear Mrs. Z and Jonathan exchange insults (hilarious name-calling), but not in anger, and they immediately get back to solving problems.  Well, there is one big one that they have been wrestling with for ages.  

     Lewis is a bookish child (loves dictionaries and learning words like indomitable, which causes him to sound like an effete child) with silly goggles on his head, and even so while he comes across at school as a nerd, he is able to make a friend (at least temporarily).  But this bookishness turns out to be just what he needs to follow in his uncle’s footsteps, something he sorely wishes for after Jonathan’s demonstration of magic in the garden when it comes alive in the most delightful way.

     Reluctantly, Jonathan agrees to help Lewis become a warlock.  There is just one rule in the house, which is not to open a certain cabinet.  Lewis is an obedient child and he fully intends to comply, but neither he nor his uncle anticipate what might happen when Lewis invites his one friend, skeptical Tarby (Suljic), over to the house to impress him with what he’s learned about magic.  

     What follows is a major struggle that is exciting for children and adults to watch, and, gratifyingly for me, carrying positive messages.  They will see children and adults persisting in the face of adversity, staying on the side of good, and seeing that children need to be informed about what is going on in their lives and, moreover, including them in solutions.  Yes, children should be more respected.  

     Another positive piece of good modeling in the film is the egalitarian relationship between Jonathan and Mrs. Z.  He openly acknowledges her value to him and the impressiveness of her skills. She is portrayed as skillful, motherly, and a wise sage.  Jonathan is open both to her as a female and to Lewis as a child.  He models for men the value of listening to women and children, and then being willing to make changes.

     With the aid of screenwriter Eric Kripke, director Eli Roth has done a good job in adapting John Bellairs’ novel to the screen.  Music (Nathan Barr), cinematography (Rogier Stoffers), and production design (John Hutman) are of similar quality.  Jack Black nails every role he plays, as does Cate Blanchett, and their inclusion in any cast will elevate the film.  Young Owen Vaccara pulls for attention, although I have to confess I kept wanting to see Jacob Tremblay (Room) in that role.  Kyle MacLachlan and Renee Elise Goldsberry were wonderfully effective as villains.

     House with a Clock is a bit silly at times—which is not unusual for this type of film—but general audiences will enjoy it; there was applause for it afterwards at the screening I attended.  The special effects are good, but parents might note that it could be scary for young children who are afraid of the dark. 

A good choice for those who like a mixture of fantasy, comedy, and a bit of horror.

Grade:  C+                                    By Donna R. Copeland

LIFE ITSELF

Oscar Isaac     Olivia Wilde     Annette Benning     Samuel L. Jackson

Mandy Patinkin     Jean Smart     Antonio Banderas

Laia Costa     Sergio Peris-Mencheta    Adrian Monner    Alex Monner    Olivia Cooke

     “Life itself is an unreliable narrator”, states this film in so many ways so many times, it becomes the major theme, with the corollary, “Life will always surprise you”.  So life is an unreliable narrator because we never know what is going to happen next.  What may seem like tragedy and death can be deceptive, particularly if one has the fortitude to pick oneself up and continue on.  So life itself can sometimes trick us.  

     That these philosophical “underpinnings” to the narrative are bounteously entertaining and thought provoking becomes the surprise of this well conceived, well told film.  When initial reviews I read were negative in light of the stunning cast, I wondered how so many fine actors signed on to do it.  Now that I’ve seen Life Itself, I can well understand; when they read the script, they “got it.”  What I understand less is how a thoughtful, philosophically minded viewer could miss the gold within it—and maybe those who are turned off by it simply miss—or do not care for—the point.

     The story shows how life’s “accidents” may be fateful, and actually may bind people together in surprising ways.  I especially liked how it reflects the good intentions of people in general and how they (most of us) are unaware of the long-term consequences.  In Dan Fogelman’s fine script and direction, Life Itself views the long-term picture within a family, even though each generation’s story is sufficient for a whole movie—which is what we are most accustomed to in contemporary times.

     But here, we first have Will (Isaac) and Abby (Wilde) in a romantic relationship. He vows that, “I will love you however you’re best equipped to handle it.”  How generous is that?  They have a girl-child named Dylan (because Abby is obsessed with Bob Dylan's Time out of Mind album).  Life happens, and we switch to another time and place to Isabel (Costa) and Javier (Peris-Mencheta), who have a son, Rodrigo (Adrian and Alex Monner), and a special uncle, Mr. Saccione (Banderas). How life goes full circle will keep you suspended and entertained if you are willing to be puzzled, and then pick yourself up and continue to the end of the film.

     The strong cast paired with a substantive story that goes beyond the superficial and looks at generations of families across time is the kind of production that keeps me going to movies.  This is a film I will make sure to see again at least once to have the advantage of hindsight, and a chance to reflect further on its truths.  Every single actor fits perfectly in his/her role in an infectious and appealing manner.  Music by Federico Jusid is integral, and itself very entertaining.

See this for the delightfully pictured romantic relationships, but for a full experience, keep in mind its philosophical undercurrents.

Grade:  A                                    By Donna R. Copeland

WHITE BOY RICK

Matthew McConaughey    Jennifer Jason Leigh     Richie Merritt     Bel Powley

Rory Cochrane     Eddie Marsan     Bruce Dern     Piper Laurie     Brian Tyree Henry

     

     Recipe for disaster:  A lower middle class family living in Detroit in the ‘80s near a predominantly African-American section of town; FBI agents who are aware that the father is dealing guns illegally (although they’re not pursuing him) and that the son is developing friendships with the drug dealers in the black community, recruit Rick (Merritt) to become an informant for them.  

     What could go wrong?  A lot.  The trouble is, there are additional unanticipated factors and events that will complicate the picture.  The father, Richard Wershe (McConaughey), is an eternal optimist (“I’m a glass-is-half-full kind of guy”) who hasn’t done well, but sustains his dream of owning a string of video stores that will make him rich and able to take care of his kids, Rick and Dawn (Powley), and no longer need financial help from his parents.  He is good at communicating with his son about his business plan of selling guns (which he is clearly overly attached to) to get capital for his dream, but doesn’t seem to have the foggiest notion about guiding Rick or Dawn in sensible behavior and avoiding pitfalls and destructive temptations.

     So a lot goes down, with Rick getting more and more entrenched in shady dealings, Dawn making poor choices in the company she keeps, and Richard trying desperately to hold everything together.  It’s a statement about unmet needs, skimpy education, and desperate plans that have slim chances of success.  But the film also takes punches at black-white disparities in the criminal justice system, unethical practices of government agencies, and the inability of government to deal with economically ravaged cities such as Detroit in the 1980’s.  

     This is a difficult, painful film to watch from beginning to end, in its exquisite picture of flawed parenting, inadequacies in government service, seductiveness of drugs in distressed populations and the resultant crime, and the disparities in black vs. white lifestyles and communities and the criminal justice system.  The only positive element in all this mess is the example of family loyalty, which would be the primary support sustaining Rick for the rest of his life.

     White Boy Rick is a realistic picture of the 1980’s, but, unfortunately, shows that we have not made as much progress in social welfare and justice as we should have (or as I wished we would have). It could have made sharper connections between family dysfunction, social services, and the legal system, and how factors in all areas had such an impact on a young man’s life.

     The esteemed actor Matthew McConaughey clearly holds this film together in his ability to make the screen come alive when he is present, and then have this presence echo in the scenes where he is absent.  For his first film, Richie Merritt makes an impressive appearance, at home with his character and able to show a range of emotion.  Although not much more than a cameo, Bruce Dern and his brilliant blue piercing eyes gives us an extra treat.  Max Richter’s score with its doomsday tones and dramatic thrusts is a worthy accompaniment.

I realize that films like this need to be made, but they are painful to watch because of their realistic commentary about contemporary life.

Grade:  C                                By Donna R. Copeland