Mother's Day

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Garry Marshall/Starring: Jennifer Aniston, Julia Roberts, Kate Hudson, Jason Sudeikis, Timothy Olyphant, Britt Robertson, Hector Elizondo, Margo Martindale, Robert Pine, Aasif Mandvi and Ella Anderson

I know what you're probably thinking; why the hell see any Garry Marshall movie when his last two holiday movies; New Year's Eve and Valentine's Day sucked tragically? Truth be known, I've seen everything else at the theaters and I needed one last posting for the month. Better movies await me in May but since I spilled clams for this nonsense, I may as well say something about it. But what can one express about any Garry Marshall movie, particularly Mother's Day, except to say it belongs on cable TV, a trans-oceanic flight or someplace where it can help an insomniac or anesthetize a PTSD person?
At the screening I attended, a passel of geriatrics showed up; probably hoping to see something inoffensive, mildly amusing and profanity-free. The film meets most of those criteria (only a few swear words) but what I found really surprising is that Marshall's so-called comedy couldn't even make the old folks laugh (well, maybe they chuckled once).

Like the aforementioned movies in this trilogy (geez, I hope it's only a trilogy), Marshall crowds his story with multiple characters and multiple narrative threads though even a spider monkey in a coma could plot out every story-line knowing little about the characters. Plot-twists and unexpected story developments aren't Marshall's forte.

The characters are as follows:

Sandy (Jennifer Aniston) and Henry (Timothy Olyphant-wasted badly here) are an attractive forty-something couple in the throes of divorce. Sandy hopes of reconciliation are dashed when Henry surprises her with news of his elopement to a young, sexy twenty-something. The conflict here is Sandy's insecurity about becoming marginalized as her two sons find living with their dad and his new wife irresistible. Of course Henry's attractive new wife is another source of anxiety for her, as is being single.

Jesse (Kate Hudson) is married to an Indian/American named Russell (Aasif Mandvi); a fact her semi-estranged and slightly bigoted parents; Flo (Margo Martindale) and Earl (Robert Pine) are unaware of. Complicating the matter are Jesse and Russell's two children and her sister/next door neighbor Gabi (Sarah Chalke); who is hiding a secret of her own; namely her marriage to a woman. The fact that Flo and Earl have surprised Jesse, Russell and Gabi with a visit should be fertile territory for some laughs and comic situations. Never happens. Flo and Earl are one-dimensional, lazily-drawn southern stereotypes whose bigotry should be cause for drama rather than laughs.

Miranda (Julia Roberts) is the hostess of her own successful home-shopping channel. Single and childless, her connection to another character is revealed later in the film. There is very little else one need know about her.

Bradley (Jason Sudeikis; frittering time away here) is a widower whose late wife Dana (cameo by Jennifer Garner) died while serving as a Marine in Afghanistan (the fact that she was a soldier is a shameless ploy to tug on our heartstrings). His conflict is being a single parent and a father to two daughters; one of whom is a teenager who shows a burgeoning interest in boys, which brings Bradley untold anxiety.

Kristin (Britt Robertson) and Zack (Jake Whitehall); are a young, twenty-something couple with a kid. Though Kristin is happy with Zack, she has yet to commit to marriage, which he is only too happy to consummate. Zack, meanwhile, pursues a career as a stand-up comic (his stage routine is bland) when he isn't tending bar. The movie seems to forget at times these two characters exist; abandoning them for long stretches, only to return to them when we're long past caring about them. It is also revealed that Kristin was adopted and has an opportunity to meet her biological mother. The identity of said mother is withheld until later, which is supposed to be a shocking revelation.

Of course the various characters tend to intermingle at times; Sandy socializes with Kristin and Jesse at the park while the children frolic. Bradley runs into Sandy at a supermarket when a cashier runs a price-check on his daughter's tampons (this gag is old; it was funnier in Mr. Mom years ago, when it was original), which gives them the opportunity to meet-cute.

Having a crude understanding of the characters shouldn't keep you from knowing where the paved narrative trails will lead. For instance, which two single people will most likely end up together? Match a single mom with a motherless young woman. Which characters might they be? Will the bigoted hicks from the south become enlightened and accept their in-laws? If you don't where the movie will go, you've dozed off or just don't care enough to pay attention, or both.

Being a Garry Marshall film, one knows the story will have all the edges of a cotton ball. Marshall ensures no one will be offended or upset or have to think much. I guess we're supposed to just enjoy watching a parade of stars try to turn lint into gold thread. If the situations can't be original or inspired, why can't the humor be humorous?

No one seems to be able to rise above the mundane material. Hector Elizondo can be very amusing if given something good to work with but here he can only make do with crusts of bread. Timothy Olyphant seems all wrong for this kind of movie; he needs something darker and more dramatic to be truly affective. Though some cast members deserve better; others, like femme-hacks Kate Hudson, Jennifer Aniston and Julia Roberts, seem like ideal choices for this unfunny, crushingly dull, tenaciously empty-headed comedy/drama.

It's impossible to say anything good about the film, or at least something that isn't snarky so I'll leave it alone and let my mind purge the movie from my memory, which should take only...let's see...another second...there. Done.

Elvis & Nixon

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Liza Johnson/Starring: Michael Shannon, Kevin Spacey, Colin Hanks, Alex Pettyfer, Johnny Knoxville and Evan Peters

According to a factoid in the film Elvis & Nixon; director Liza Johnson's dramatization of the meeting between Elvis Presley and President Richard Nixon, the most requested photograph from the National Archives is the shot of the two men shaking hands in the Oval Office in December 1970. There is something about the picture that is absurd, comical and bizarrely surreal. It has ineffable qualities that make it both mildly disturbing and strangely appealing. Looking at the photo, the first thought that always comes to mind (and maybe yours) is: what could one of the world's most famous pop stars and one of the most controversial American presidents (controversial even before Watergate) of all time have said to one another? That question may have inspired Johnson and screenwriters Joey and Hanala Sagal and Cary Elwes (yes, that Cary Elwes) to address the question cinematically. Like the famous photo, Elvis & Nixon is off-the-wall, weirdly funny and very entertaining.

Rather than plunge the audience into the meeting itself, the first act is made up of events leading up to the eventful Oval Office meeting. Watching multiple TV screens in his Graceland Mansion, Elvis (Michael Shannon) shows his disgust with news stories of counter culture rebellion; protests, draft-card burning and the drug culture by leveling a handgun at the TV screen and firing a bullet into it.

Shortly thereafter, we see him write a letter though we hardly know to whom it's addressed. In the following scene, we see him approach an airline counter alone; minus his entourage. The woman behind the counter is very star-struck. While booking his flight, she becomes alarmed when she glimpses his holstered handgun beneath his blazer. Meanwhile, his long-time friend in L.A.; Jerry Schilling (Alex Pettyfer) receives a call from Elvis, who we see is sitting in front of airline security desk. Elvis alerts Jerry to his situation, but as we might have anticipated, the star's power makes a potentially sticky incident go away.

Elvis flies to L.A. shortly thereafter to see his friend. At a meeting in Elvis' west-coast home, Jerry is apprised of his friend's plan to meet with Richard Nixon and asks him to proofread the letter he penned earlier. Elvis explains to Schilling his plan to meet Nixon and his intention to become a Federal Agent at Large; someone who could infiltrate the communist elements of the counterculture. He also expresses his wish to have a Federal Agents' badge. Schilling is naturally puzzled but overriding his bewilderment is his marriage proposal to his girlfriend, which is to follow in several days time. Knowing his proposal could be jeopardized by Elvis' plan, he reluctantly accedes anyway to Elvis' powerful persuasion.

Once Elvis and Jerry arrive in Washington, the film becomes amusingly surreal as the two men show up at the White House security gate, asking that the letter be forwarded to the President. The bewildered expressions on the guard's faces are priceless. Elvis' smooth charm overcomes a hard-nosed security guard, who at first seems impervious to the star's charisma.

The film shifts its perspective as Nixon staff member Dwight Chapin (Evan Peters) brings Elvis' letter to the attention of his superior, Egil Krogh (Colin Hanks), who is as incredulous as his colleague. Seeing the public relations value of a meeting between Elvis and Nixon, Krogh presents the idea to White House Chief of Staff H. R. Haldeman (Tate Donovan), who initially dismisses the idea until Krogh reminds him of how a meeting might appeal to southern voters. Haldeman's approbation secured, Krogh and Chapin broach the subject with Nixon (Kevin Spacey) during a daily agenda meeting. The reaction the idea elicits from Nixon is another fine moment in the film as Krogh explains Elvis' petition to become a badge-carrying federal agent. Nixon, in a moment of cantankerousness, balks at the ridiculousness of the idea and promptly sends the men away. Undeterred, Krogh enlists the help of Nixon's daughter in bringing the meeting about.

Meanwhile, Elvis waits at a hotel for word from the White House and Schilling frets about his need to return to L.A.

Krogh's ploy succeeds, which sets the scene for the historic meeting, which is a pure pleasure to behold. The suspense preceding the meeting is established slowly and effectively. I'll only divulge a few details of their famous encounter. The actual meeting is fascinating, (I'm not privy to the fact to fiction ratio); not only from a dramatic perspective, but a psychological one as well. Presented with protocol on how to behave in the Oval Office, Elvis takes pleasure in flouting them, much to Krogh's dismay. Whether Elvis was deliberately jabbing at White House authority or merely being mischievous I can't say (if any of this happened at all) but it is great fun to watch. Elvis shows a calculating side when he rails against communism, drug-use among the youth and the Beatles; knowing he's saying exactly what Nixon wants to hear. Does Elvis get what he wants? I won't say.

The film could only work if its center--said meeting--holds our attention; which it does. But the center only holds if its two main cast members; Shannon and Spacey, make their characters compelling, which they do wonderfully. Though neither actor resembles the real life figures much, they reach for essence and get it with fine performances. Shannon nails Elvis' mannerisms, while his tall, imposing presence and his affected soft-spokenness fortify his portrayal. Spacey is outstanding as Nixon. He not only mimics the president's idiosyncratic voice, but he captures his insecurities, his penchant for profanity and his irascibility with artistic elan.

We know tragedy awaits both men in their respective futures, which lends poignance to the photo and the film. But the film isn't a tragedy; it's a funny, entertaining story about a pop star's outlandish agenda and a president who seizes a self-serving opportunity.

Post-film subtitles tell us what became of the respective participants. What awaits Krogh and Chapin seems almost inevitable.

Johnson manages to wring an entire story out of one meeting and a photo but she makes it worth our while. It's hard not to smile after watching Elvis & Nixon and marvel at how two people who might not have met under normal circumstances actually did. Such an event would hardly be improbable now but back in the square, Nixonian White House, such an encounter seems unthinkable.

Miles Ahead

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Don Cheadle/Starring Don Cheadle, Ewan McGregor, Michael Stuhlbarg, Emayatzy Corinealdi and Keith Stanfield

Though I really enjoyed watching Don Cheadle's Miles Ahead, I can't help but wonder if the documentary platform might be a more effective way of telling a musician's story. Cheadle's film is the third music biopic I've seen this year and I can't say my appreciation or understanding of the various musicians has been broadened by any of the films. In documentaries, the ratio of personal life to music is more equitably distributed while narrative films weigh heavily on the personal. Any mention of or attention to music is usually incidental and is subordinate to sensational plot lines that deal with the musician in question getting high, fighting addictions or sifting through or jilting lovers. The best music film I've seen the last six months was Janis: Little Girl Blue; a fascinating documentary on the life of Janis Joplin. The film addressed her troubles but we also saw copious performance footage while talking heads elucidated the finer points of her singing and her music. When one wants to learn about the music, talking heads always help; a quality narrative films lack.

But back to Miles Ahead...

Much has been said about Cheadle's lack of fidelity to facts in his film. This isn't really an issue if the filmmaker hopes to capture the subject's essence. The problem with Cheadle's film is that I have no idea how truth, fact and fantasy are compartmentalized. Watching his film, you might think Miles Davis was nothing more than a gun-toting, coke inhaling, panty-chasing thug who moonlighted as a jazz trumpeter. But as Cheadle's Davis says to Rolling Stone's Dave Brill (Ewan McGregor); "If you're going to tell a story, come at it with some attitude." Those words eloquently capture Cheadle's directorial mind-set on how he chooses to tell Davis' story, or at least capture a period in his life and career.

Miles Ahead isn't a cradle-to-grave story, as biopics tend to be these days but a period in time; in this case the 1970s. We see Davis long after he has firmly established himself in the jazz world, living a hermit-like existence in his own house. While his record company badgers him relentlessly for new music, Dave Brill pounds on his door, hoping to coax Davis into telling his story for a Rolling Stone comeback piece. Brill's failed entreaty unfortunately earns him a black eye. Brill gets swept up in Davis' rancorous exchange with the Columbia company executives a short-time later when he demands to be paid partially up front for music he hasn't delivered. When the executives refuse him, Davis fires a gun menacingly in the direction of one executive, demanding all the money he has in his pocket.

Later, the two return to Davis' house, only to find his female friend is throwing a party, which irks him greatly. When Brill sees Davis lock up a reel of new music, he immediately plans to take it, having earlier promised the Columbia executives the tapes in a deal-making scheme. Meanwhile, Harper Hamilton (Michael Stuhlbarg) and a promising young musician named Lakeith (Keith Stanfield); both serving as operatives for the Columbia, arrive at the party. To their good fortune and Davis' bad, they find the drawer containing the reel has been left unlocked by Brill after the journalist used Davis' key gain access to the drawer. Hamilton and Lakeith take the reel and leave. After the party, Davis discovers the reel is gone. Learning Hamilton was present at the party, Davis arms himself and sets off with Brill to find the two men.

The story then becomes Davis' effort to recover his reel, which leads he and Brill to violent scenarios involving gun play and a cat and mouse chase with Hamilton and Lakeith. When the film isn't about Davis' gangster pursuits, his romantic life drops by to insinuate itself in the story. In nearly every biopic featuring a male, the protagonist is usually haunted by a love he treated badly or couldn't fully commit to. A beautiful dancer named Frances Taylor (Emayatzi Corinealdi) becomes Davis' wife but as the audience might anticipate, he alienates her and wrecks the marriage with his incurable philandering and his selfish attitudes about marriage.

We do manage to hear music in the story; glimpses of gigs and some studio work but not enough to satisfy even the most casual fan. Davis was a pioneer in the jazz fusion movement but his work is never mentioned and only later in the film do hear a selection. A significant trend in jazz never rates a minute of screen time.

Though Cheadle's film fails as a music biopic, it succeeds as a rousing crime drama. The film might have worked better as a thriller about a musician trying to recover his tapes.

The movie's salient attribute is Cheadle's electrifying performance. Cheadle mimics Davis' low growly voice with uncanny precision. He utters some quote-worthy lines we can imagine were culled directly from interviews. Davis' penchant for prickliness and hostility is well documented; a few foibles Cheadle does not overlook.

In his directorial debut, Cheadle shows some compositional flair. During a confrontation with Hamilton at a boxing match, the scene degenerates into chaos. As we see the crowd clash and disperse, a long shot reveals a younger Miles Davis in the ring, performing with his band. The shot is strange and effective. Cheadle also handles the action scenes with a seasoned action director's skill.

In spite of my fondness for Miles Ahead; it's hard to think of it as a music bio. My gripes about all the narrative musical biographies from recent years, particularly from 2016, apply here.

I implore the film industry to stop making films about iconic musicians. Pour budgets into informative documentaries instead; they are rarely disappointing. I sure hope the film on Nina Simone isn't more of the same; I don't think I can stomach one more music bio that has little or nothing to do with music.

Sing Street

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: John Carney/Starring: Ferdia Walsh-Peelo, Jack Reynor, Lucy Boynton, Mark McKenna, Maria Doyle-Kennedy, Don Wycherley and Aidan Gillen

Director John Carney, who gave us Once and Begin Again, steps behind the camera again for Sing Street; his romantic/drama/musical whose story borrows many elements from the aforementioned films. I hesitate to call the films a trilogy because we can never be certain if more films of this ilk are in the works. Formula is beginning seep into his films. Carney's latest also reminds me of The Commitments; which may be a deliberate allusion. The two films have actress Maria Doyle-Kennedy in common, as well as Glen Hansard; star of Once, though his function in Sing Street is only as a contributing songwriter. Though the film has its charms; offbeat cast, catchy songtrack and romance; it also feels like many movies I've seen many times. It's the kind of movie one might enjoy while being aware of its insubstantiality. It gets the period right but the serious story lurking beneath its misfit appeal is only wafer-deep.

Set in Dublin in the mid-80s', Ireland's economy is stagnant and many Irish are setting off across the water to England, seeking better opportunities. Among the hard hit is the Lalor family, who are forced to reorganize their expenses to make ends meet. One change the family initiates is with their son Conor (Ferdia Walsh-Peelo), who is pulled out of his expensive Jesuit school to attend a public school. But financial hardship isn't the only problem facing the Lalor family, for Conor's parents: Penny (Maria Doyle-Kennedy) and Robert (Aidan Gillen) are weathering a shaky marriage. Conor's older brother Brendan (Jack Reynor), has dropped out of school and lies about the house idly; without prospects and direction.

Conor finds his new school--Synge Street--to be dramatically different from his previous alma mater as bullies tyrannize the halls and a humorless headmaster named Brother Baxter (Don Wycherley) exerts his despotic authority. In Conor's first week of school, he finds he has run afoul of the school's dress code, for which Baxter shows his unyielding firmness.
Conor also finds he is the focus of a bully's wrath, which earns him torments and ultimately a black eye.

As the school year proceeds, Conor notices a girl a few years older than he, watching the boys trudge to school everyday. He summons the courage to speak to her and after some small talk, he learns of her dream to become a model in London. In hopes of becoming acquainted, he asks Raphina (Lucy Boynton) if she would like to be in his band's video. When she responds in a semi-committal way, he sets out to form a band with the help of his new friend Darren (Ben Carolan). Darren and Conor begin recruiting musicians in earnest. The sequence that follows after is lifted wholesale from The Commitments as the recruitment process nets a group of oddballs whose skills betray an acceptable level of competence. A key member is Eamon (Mark McKenna), a be-speckled schoolmate who auditions for Conor by playing a variety of instruments.

The band progresses quickly (probably faster than plausibility should permit) and before long, they come up with a band name--Sing Street--and a video concept to accompany an original song, which brings Raphina into their fold. The band's sound develops, as does Conor's interest in Raphina though his plans suffer a snag when he finds she has a boyfriend. As he becomes more acquainted with her, he discovers Raphina is living in a home for young women. She later explains her situation when she divulges her parent's troubles

As the story progresses, the various narrative threads begin to coalesce. The film begins to explore Conor's relationship with his brother and Brendan's frustration with his failures, which become more acute when Sing Street begins to show promise. The Lalor's divorce creates a residential issue for the family and Conor's relationship suffers a setback when Raphina's modeling foray in London fails.

Sing Street's first gig in the school gym is a modest success; the band firmly establishes its sound. By the final reel, the story's unresolved issue is whether Conor and Raphina will run away to London to pursue their respective dreams.

Though Carney tries to give what is essentially a musical some dramatic heft, the movie lacks the gravitas of Once and the comedic verve of The Commitments. In spite of, the characters are interesting enough to keep one emotionally invested in the story, but barely. As mentioned earlier, the story is a pastiche of better films.

The music does give the story color. The band's original compositions mingle with songs from the period: Inbetween Days, by the Cure, Rio, by Duran Duran and Pop Muzik, M, which give us a sense of the influences and inspirations behind Sing Street's music. I credit Carney for showing us scenes of Conor and Eamon composing; a crucial detail that paints a picture of the boys as complete musicians. Nevertheless, it's difficult to recall most of the songs composed for the film.

Once was a bittersweet story that at times seemed documentary-like. Sing Street is light but maybe too light and too derivative. It really doesn't distance itself enough from The Commitments to claim its own dramatic territory. At least the movie was better than Carney's last film; the unfortunate Begin Again which offered nothing for the ear nor eye. Sing Street doesn't leave one singing, but at least it it isn't a bore.

Omniflick Farewell: Ronit Elkabetz (1964-2016)

Though most major news items will be eclipsed by the death of Prince, another passing I find shocking is that of Israeli actress Ronit Elkabetz.
I first saw Elkabetz in Late Marriage; one of many roles that quite deservedly garnered her acclaim and award nominations. Her tremendous screen presence, unconventional, exotic beauty and her superb talent in front and behind the camera are qualities for which the world of cinema will be the poorer for their conspicuous absence.

She was a remarkable actress. Her most recent artistic success was Gett: The Trial of Viviane Amsalem, for which she drew rave reviews and a rhapsodic blog post from me. I will never forget her emotionally raw, tour de force performance, which earned her several nominations in festivals around the world. The fact that she also co-wrote and co-directed the film are significant facts worth mentioning.

She left us so soon but her legacy and our consolation are her films; memorable and indelible images of a talented and lovely actress.

Omniflick Commentary: Virtuality

Virtual reality entertainment is nothing new; it's earlier, less-sophisticated predecessors featured crudely rendered animation, but technology and content have come a long way since then. The evidence supporting this claim has been made conspicuous at the Virtual Arcade at the 2016 Tribeca Film Festival. The event was covered by critic Neil Genzlinger in his article: With a Helmet, Who Needs Popcorn in today's New York Times Arts section. Eighteen virtual-reality "films" have been made available to festival patrons in a variety of genres: animated stories, short documentaries and short narrative films. Of course viewing is only made possible with viewing devices such as the one pictured above.

Genzlinger shares his viewing experiences, which seem wondrous, even to someone like myself who has yet to sample the technology. The article gives a brief synopsis and viewing description of the visual shorts available in the Arcade. One film is the animated short Allumette; a story about a girl in a cloud city. Genzlinger describes the virtual reality piece as such:

...and when the city appears, you are inside it. You can walk paths, look up at the sky, peer down at other levels of the city below. The film is viewed standing up, and you may find yourself ducking so as not to hit your head on that virtual bridge or stepping awkwardly to avoid treading on the vagabond sleeping under the bridge. When the ship carrying the young girl to the new land docks, if you walk over to it and stick your head through the side, you're suddenly looking at the interior rooms of the vessel...

And later in the article, he writes, "Overall, the room (the Arcade) invites you to contemplate the implications of this radical shift in how movies might be made and watched...:"

Though a full-length feature film has yet to be made for virtual reality, it's fairly clear where visual storytelling is headed. As movie theaters cede ground to cable television's copious offerings and whatever people seem to find so fascinating on their cellphones, images projected three-dimensionally in a helmet seem like a logical, technological progression. Being immersed in and being part of the story also seem like natural evolutionary steps in the movie-viewing experience. Genzlinger notes how the virtual shorts often coax a physical reaction from the viewer. He mentions making swimming motions with one's arms during a film about sea-floor exploration.

He briefly addresses the negative impact of virtual reality when he writes;

It's easy to see this depersonalizing us--we've already retreated from real life into our cellphone and tablet screens; will we next disappear into our helmets?

I don't know what impact the medium will have on our cognitive faculties or our consciousness, but I've learned people quickly overcome their aversion to technological phenomena (remember when people hated cellphones?). But he considers its positive aspects as well when he envisions a multiplayer-like scenario where participants share an experience.

As a life-long cinephile, I've seen movies withstand assaults from television, video and computer games but the medium's dominance may be at an end. It's only a matter of time before virtual reality becomes mainstream and when it does, it's easy to imagine headsets superseding flat screens in living rooms. If and when that happens, will anyone bother with movies or T.V. as we know them? Will classic cinema, like Lawrence of Arabia be forgotten; dismissed as quaint entertainment, or will it become absorbed into virtual reality? Will it be possible to ride next to Lawrence as he crosses the Jordanian desert alone? The thought of a hundred years of cinema vanishing in the wake of virtual reality "cinema" is heartbreaking. Given the Arcade patron's enthusiastic responses to the viewing, as noted by Genzlinger, one can't help but feel cinema's future is decidedly grim.

I can't help but be excited and curious about what virtual reality promises but the technology also leaves me feeling pessimistic. I'm not ready to give up The Seven Samurai or The Third Man just yet--or ever. Maybe I should enjoy the silver screen while it's still here; the future may belong exclusively to head-sets.

Neil Genzlinger: With a Helmet, Who Needs Popcorn?

Everybody Wants Some

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Richard Linklater/Starring: Blake Jenner, Justin Street, Tyler Hoechlin, Wyatt Russell, Glen Powell, Temple Baker, J. Quinton Johnson, Will Britain and Zoey Deutch

Everybody Wants Some is one of those films that receives little help from its trailer, which doesn't sell the film very well. After watching the preview, I'm sure I'm wasn't alone in thinking Richard Linklater's latest bears too-great a resemblance to his film Dazed and Confused. The clothing styles are marginally different, as are the hair-styles but those superficial details are hardly an issue, for Linklater's new film is every bit the equal, if not the superior, to his earlier film. Both films have a fine ear and eye for period American culture and like its predecessor, the new film features an ensemble cast of relatively unknowns who could conceivably become household names. Matthew McConaughey, Ben Affleck, Milla Jovovich and Parker Posey achieved varying degrees of fame in the wake of Dazed and Cofused's cult success.

Linklater is a master of dramatic time-compression (he is also the master of time elongation; as Boyhood convincingly attests). In films like Slacker and the Before Sunrise series, a day is as significant as a hundred years. In Everybody Wants Some, it's difficult to believe the story takes place in three days rather than a year. Between the time Linklater's main character Jake (Blake Jenner) arrives on-campus as a freshman baseball player and the final credits, the story feels like a lifetime, in a very good way. And like Dazed, Linklater allows his ensemble cast to drive his funny, sexy, quirky and unpredictable story; making us care about something as relatively mundane as a college baseball team.

Blake Jenner plays Jake, who has just arrived on campus for his freshmen year. Because the story takes place in 1980, we see him lug a box full of albums to his off-campus residence, which happens to be one of two houses the school has appropriated for the baseball team. Inside the house he searches for his roommate and in doing so he (and we) meet his fellow teammates, some of who not only regard his freshman status as a reason for mockery but his position as pitcher as a pretext for good-natured abuse. One of the elder teammates; McReynolds (Tyler Hoechlin, who seems every bit the character he plays) actually wipes his hand after learning Jake is a pitcher while another; Jay (Juston Street) gives the freshman a little ribbing before allowing him to pass. As the camera follows Jake upstairs and through the house, we meet his other teammates, whose personalities often come attached to amusing idiosyncrasies. One oddball is Willoughby (Wyatt Russell); a hippie-ish pot-head who offers his theories on a variety of subjects, one of them being telepathy, which becomes part of a funny experiment he conducts later. Another is Niles; a wound-too-tight, self-professed philosopher who claims to have a 95 mile-an-hour fastball though no evidence of such an extraordinary claim exists.

As the freshman players become acquainted with the elder team members, they learn to kill time around the house drinking and amusing themselves in odd ways. One such way involves playing baseball with an axe, a talent for which McReynolds shows a particular deftness. Naturally competitive, other amusements lead to heated games of ping-pong, where an angry McReynolds hurls his paddle at Jake after a disappointing defeat.

Driving around with his new teammates after he arrives, they cruise around, scouting for girls. They happen upon two attractive female students, who give them the brush off though Jake draws the attention of a girl named Beverly (Zoey Deutch); which stirs his teammates' jealousy.

The evenings find the team looking for fun in the local bars, hooking up with women or in one case, hosting a party in their own house, where all the time-honored traditions of mayhem, beer-guzzling and sex proceed unimpeded. This flies in the face of their coach's proscription about women and alcohol on the premises.

In their constant search for parties and good times, the team finds themselves in places that bring them face to face with other social groups. After being bounced from their favorite watering hole, a country-western bar proves to be an adequate alternative. A stroll around the off-campus student housing leads to an encounter with punk-rockers, one of whom Jake happens to know from high school. And in pursuing Beverly; a dramatic arts major, Jake is invited to one of their parties. Seeing the obvious clash of baseball players and the drama/arts crowd, Jake reluctantly brings the team along to the party. The experience proves to be an eye-opening for the players, who encounter a dominatrix and a surreal gaggle of costumed party-goers. Bemused by the scene, the guys are chastised by Finnegan (Glen Powell); one of the team leaders, for talking baseball in the presence of creative people.

As the first day of school rapidly approaches, Jake and Beverly become an item and we finally see the team take the field for practice. During a scrimmage, Willoughby is summoned away ominously by the coach and doesn't return. In the days following, we learn the reason for his dismissal and something about his secret life, which leaves the team flabbergasted and puzzled.

The contradictions inherent in the inter-player dynamics are interesting. Though we see team camaraderie, the freshman discover the older teammates have a decidedly different perspective on their relationship with the younger players. As Dale (J. Quinton Johnson) explains to the freshman; Jake, Plummer (Temple Baker, who has the dumb jock character down pat), Brumley (Tanner Kalina) and Beuter (Will Brittain), the older players don't care about the freshman and wouldn't mind seeing them fail. Everyone is on their own.

When one reduces the film to its intrinsic components, the story is partly about the team's encounters with other campus sub-cultures. How the players manage to fit or not fit into the motley stew is one of the defining characteristics of college social life and the plot.

One reason Linklater's film works so well are colorful characters and how they interact as athletes and people. He has an exquisite ear for dude-talk and though they often sound like jocks, it is refreshing to find some players have more on their minds than sports. One player holds a copy of Carl Sagan's Cosmos and extols its virtues while later we see Finnegan reading a copy of Kerouac's Desolation Angels.

By the time Jake reaches class on his first day, we feel the players have been through a helluva a lot. The professor writes on the board "Frontiers are where you find them." The statement applies very much to Jake and what awaits him in school and baseball and serves as an appropriate coda to a terrific film.

The film is populated with mostly unknown actors but they make an impression: Glen Powell and Tyler Hoechlin are quite charismatic pair, as is Blake Jenner. Wyatt Russell lends kookiness to the story and some intellectual substance with his brainy patter.

Everybody Wants Some left me smiling; it is a very entertaining film. It observes a time and place with warmth and humor, without tripping over hackneyed nostalgia. Linklater continues to impress.

The Boss

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Ben Falcone/Starring: Melissa McCarthy, Kristen Bell, Peter Dinklage, Ella Anderson, Kathy Bates and Cecily Strong

Melissa McCarthy has had some hits and misses in this phase of her nascent leading-lady career. She seems to be settling into playing strong women with crude vocabularies and uncouth manners and she does both well. She can be funny if she doesn't linger in the course, low-brow neighborhood of the lowest common denominator.

In her new film, The Boss, directed by her husband Ben Falcone, McCarthy plays Michelle Darnell, a self-made, wealthy woman who has achieved a respectable level of fame and celebrity as a savvy business person. But we first see her as a child in an orphanage; in a series of shots that show her unsuccessful attempts to find a family. First we see her as a little girl being greeted by the nun, after one family returns her to the orphanage, then later as a bitter teen, who walks angrily past the sister after another family rejects her. We know immediately the subconscious quest for family will be one of the film's major themes.

The story picks up years later as we see Darnell standing before a capacity crowd in an arena celebrating her success as an investment mogul. In a following scene, the tough-talking, avatar of confidence is arrested for insider trading, leaving her assistants Claire (Kristen Bell) and Tito (Cedric Yarbrough) out of jobs.

It comes to light that her arrest was helped along by Darnell's former colleague and lover Renault (an amusing Peter Dinklage), whose rancor stems from a promotion awarded to her over him during their meteoric rise in the business world.

We also discover that Darnell's success can be attributed to her mentor now enemy Ida Marquette (a funny Kathy Bates), whose negative, expletive-laden assessment of her protege on television is one of the film's funnier moments.

Unable to avoid jail-time, Darnell is forced to spend time behind bars in a cushy, white-collar penal institution. Claire visits her boss in jail to announce her resignation. She cites her single-parent situation as her reason for leaving and seeking gainful employment elsewhere. We get a sense of Darnell's rabid narcissism when she tells Claire she didn't know she had a child.

Following her release from prison, Darnell finds her properties and money have been seized, leaving her without a home. Her means of survival alarmingly reduced, she shows up at Claire's apartment, luggage in tow. Claire's daughter Rachel (Ella Anderson) answers the buzzer and, seeing Darnell in the street below, calls her a criminal and refuses to let her in. When she comes home, Claire finds Darnell sleeping in the street and is forced to to put her up after discovering her former boss is without property and income. Their time together as roommates is predictably fraught with frustration as Darnell proves to be a taxing presence who is prone to lie on the couch all day and take up space in the apartment.

The story and the situation change when Darnell becomes involved in Rachel's girl-scout-like group. After attending a regular meeting with Rachel, Darnell shows she has her own ideas about how the organization should be run, which pits her against a mother; Helen (a funny Annie Mumolo) who refuses to compete with an upstart. The combative exchanges that follow are funny, as Darnell's aggressive notions run afoul of Helen's.

In sampling Claire's excellent brownies at home, Darnell sees the brownies have profit potential, which prompts her to draw up a new business plan for a new organization called Darnell's Darlings. Her idea takes the Girl Scouts concept further by allowing the girls to earn a commission from sales on the brownies; a campaign Darnell believes will impart important life lessons about business and self-sufficiency. Darnell's own take-no-prisoner business ethic is implemented as she enlists Rachel's help in recruiting the toughest girls to become Darlings. The scene where Darnell and the red-beret clad Darlings take to the streets is fairly outrageous and over-the-top as they engage in a violent melee with Helen's girls, who happen to be canvassing the same neighborhoods.

As one might guess, Darnell's organization becomes a success and before long, it draws the attention of the local media. But just as Darnell, Claire and Rachel begin to enjoy the success of the new venture, Renault catches wind of the project and schemes to seize control of it. When Darnell sees Claire talking to Renault in the street, she immediately assumes her friend has sold out to her competitor. In a fit of vindictiveness, Darnell sells the organization to Renault, only to discover that Claire's exchange with Renault wasn't about selling out but rejecting his offer.

Up until this point in the narrative the movie was funny enough to be entertaining. Darnell's crass, hyper-aggressive business tactics are a humorous contrast to Claire's more compassionate, level-headed approach to salesmanship. Unfortunately, the second half of the film, where Claire, her former co-worker and beau, Stephan (Timothy Simons) and Darnell form a plan to break into Renault's office building to retrieve the contract that awards him ownership of Darnell's Darlings, is less funny--and fun--than the first half. As the film stumbles toward a predictable denouement, we know Darnell's issues about family will be resolved and her new organization will bring financial success to Claire.

The cast was quite good, particularly Kathy Bates, who made me chuckle in the few scenes she was allotted. Kristen Bell was a charming and effective straight-man (person? woman?) for Melissa McCarthy while little Ella Anderson showed off comedic chops of her own. Peter Dinklage's recent work on Game of Thrones doesn't allow him room to for comedic expression but he is quite funny here.

This is a different comedic role for McCarthy but the script, which she co-wrote, could have been better. I hope she reaches for better roles.

One attribute the movie can be commended for is its predominantly female cast, who carry most of the movie.

Though the movie's message promotes female self-reliance and assertiveness, I don't know that the brutal means by which they are achieved are totally positive. But this is a comedy; one that is given free rein to be hyperbolic so my reservation isn't totally valid.

I laughed the first half of the film and yawned the second. I can't sum up my reaction more succinctly or accurately. The Boss comes up short but at least it didn't scrape bottom.

Weiner

Directors: Josh Kriegman and Elyse Steinberg

I belong to a film club that meets once a month to watch an advance screening of a forthcoming flick. We never know what the film will be prior to showtime, which always lends a delicious air of mystery to the proceedings. At our recent gathering, we saw directors Josh Kriegman and Elyse Steinberg's new documentary Weiner; a behind the scenes film of former Congressman Anthony Weiner's ill-fated, 2013 New York City Mayoral campaign for the democratic primary. For those who may not remember or have ever heard of the former Congressman, Weiner is notorious for posting photos of his junk on Twitter in 2011. Though he initially denied the posting, he eventually admitted to his indiscretion. Weiner subsequently resigned from Congress.

Having learned what we were to see, I winced; feeling I didn't care to revisit what most New York residents, including myself, had been force-fed by the media at the time. But after seeing Kriegman and Steinberg's ruthlessly candid documentary, I realized their film has achieved something rare in documentary cinema. Having both served as Weiner's former staff members, the directors were granted fly-on-the-wall access to his life and campaign during the notorious 2013 campaign. A politician granting filmmakers nearly unrestricted freedom is virtually unheard of in documentaries and a viewer may wonder after watching the revealing film why Weiner would have consented to something beyond his control. In Weiner, we see how the former congressman's sordid blunders from his past resurface, only to leave his mayoral campaign in ruins. But in the film, we come to understand how his fall from political viability to disgrace and pariahdom affected not only himself and his campaign but his staff, constituents and most notably his wife; Huma Abedin; one-time aide and Deputy Chief of Staff to Hillary Clinton.

The film begins in the early phase of Weiner's campaign as early poll numbers show a healthy lead. We get the sense that his constituents and the New York voters have overlooked the Twitter incident that scuttled his congressional career and are ready to forgive. We meet his staff and his wife Huma, who plays an active role in his campaign; serving as advisor, counsel and conscience--all in an unofficial capacity. We learn early on that Bill Clinton officiated at his wedding and that Huma bravely stood by her husband at his darkest hour. And though the Weiner is the film's cynosure, Huma's own political ambitions hover about the campaign as a position on Hillary's presidential campaign looms in her future.

One can't help but be astounded at how Kriegman and Steinberg's cameras are allowed to operate in sensitive areas, such as his war room and his home. Their film captures all the anxieties of the campaign; intense media scrutiny, never-ending speeches and endless appearances.

Weiner's story and the documentary take a dramatic turn as a more damning indiscretion comes to light. Another Tweet, posted after Weiner resigned from Congress, is unearthed. The photo of Weiner, showing him nude from the waist down, is made public and seized by the media. The recipient of the photo; a woman named Sydney Leathers, becomes a sordid character of interest and another major embarrassment to Weiner and his campaign. The camera not only records Weiner's humiliation as he presses on with his campaign but more poignantly, Huma's disgust as the strain of another scandal begins its assault.

One of the film's more powerful scenes takes place in a hotel room as Weiner apologizes to the angry and bewildered members of his inner circle. For a filmmaker, this is a priceless moment; the emotions are raw and no one is very aware of the camera; every response and comment is unguarded. The staff is naturally angry, as is Huma, who tells the PR manager to smile when she leaves the building to deflect questions from the press.

We see some of the media fallout as Stephen Colbert and Jon Stewart mock and deride Weiner, while news T.V. offers endless commentary and analysis. We also see what Weiner is subjected to in the streets as a patron in what looks like a Jewish bakery calls the mayoral candidate on his behavior, which leads to an angry exchange captured on video. The verbal melee becomes more fodder for the media, who spin the incident into a Weiner meltdown.

Potential for further catastrophe follows when Weiner's staff learns Sydney Leathers is waiting outside the building where he is to give his concession speech. We watch as his staff's plan to avoid her plays like a sequence from a thriller.

Interspersed throughout the film are doleful comments made by Weiner as he sits by himself in a room; reflecting on his campaign. Too bad Huma's thoughts and reflections aren't included; her comments would have been priceless.

Though Weiner's scandals became catnip for online T.V. satire, there is nothing funny about Weiner's political collapse, as the film effectively demonstrates. It is particularly heartbreaking to see older footage of Weiner in action on Capitol Hill; his feisty resolve and aggressiveness in the face of congressional opposition show a politician with conviction and passion.

Watching the documentary, one can't help but feel social media was really the agent of his downfall. Twitter's dangers and thrills must have been irresistible to him, which leaves one wondering how an intelligent man was unable to avoid its pitfalls. Twitter was no less alluring to his femme fatale; Sydney Leathers. One also comes away from the film feeling mostly revulsion for the media; how it behaves like a circling herd of rabid scavengers; waiting to pounce on the weak and vulnerable. We see Leathers appearance on Howard Stern; how the shock-jock prods the young girl to seek out Weiner for his and his audience's amusement.

The audience I watched the film with had varied reactions to Weiner's comportment during the campaign. Some felt his narcissism was his most salient quality (what politician isn't narcissistic--to some degree?), others thought he seemed blithely unconcerned about the effects of the scandal on his wife. I can definitely see that. Most seemed unsympathetic but one reaction that seemed universal was the pity felt for Huma. It is safe to say no one endured more humiliation and pain Weiner's wife. The numerous shots of her expressions; pain, mortification and weariness all tell a story of their own.

As for Weiner's psychology, we can only surmise; the film observes, it doesn't analyze. What makes a man commit self-destructive acts--twice? Showing off his endowment is obviously a power thing for Weiner, but if it ruined his career on Capitol Hill, why did he jeopardize his political career further after his resignation?

A promising political career in tatters and captured on film, no less. One of the directors asked Weiner why he would allow someone to film he and his campaign? His response: I don't know. The audience may feel as puzzled.

Weiner isn't an easy film to watch; it doesn't invite ridicule and mockery but pity for a troubled politician. The film's greatest lesson? There are some body parts that should remain buried under fabric--and off of Twitter.

Demolition

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Jean-Marc Vallee/Starring: Jake Gyllenhaal, Naomi Watts, Chris Cooper, Judah Lewis and Heather Lind

Jake Gyllenhaal has become adept at playing dark, oddball characters who contend with bizarre situations or are thrust into them involuntarily. His character in director Jean-Marc Vallee's new film; Demolition is no less fascinating or strange as he plays a man who slowly becomes unhinged after he loses his wife in a violent car collision. Vallee's film keeps us emotionally involved in the protagonist's quest to establish an emotional connection to a deceased wife to whom he denied love and attention and if his arc seems a little too pat, it is nevertheless unpredictable and often full of jarring surprises.

Gyllenhaal plays Davis, who we see riding with his wife Julia (Heather Lind) down a New York street. She chides him for not listening to her and his general inattentiveness; drawing on his inability to deal with their leaky refrigerator as an example. As if to confirm his wife's assessment, he barely listens to his wife's querulous patter. A second later, another car strikes their car violently on his wife's side. Moments later, we see a series of images in Davis' head of his wife flash before our eyes, which serve as a visual segue to a shot of Julia's father Phil (the superb Chris Cooper) walking toward him in a hospital; nearly collapsing from the knowledge that his daughter has just passed. What is particularly unusual is Davis' reaction, which is decidedly impassive. Even more bewildering is what he does shortly thereafter. After trying to buy peanut M&Ms' from a vending machine, the candy becomes stuck; prompting Davis to complain to a hospital staff member. The worker deflects Davis' complaint by informing him that a vending machine company is responsible for malfunctions. Davis approaches the machine to snap a iPhone shot of the vending machine's address. The scene is astonishing for several reasons. Almost incomprehensible is his glaring indifference to the news of his wife's death but even more so is his craving for candy and his displeasure at being cheated. Is Davis numb; too shocked to grasp his loss? Or was his wife right about his aloofness?

The story takes a stranger turn when Davis writes a letter of complaint to the vending machine company at the funeral reception; detailing not only the candy incident at the hospital but the loss of his wife. The letter we hear Davis read in voice-over gives us background information on his life and his wife, including his employment at his father-in-law's investment firm. While at the reception, we also see Davis practicing a grieved expression in the mirror.

Davis surprises his father-in-law and his colleagues when he shows up for work shortly after the funeral. Not giving an explanation for his presence, Davis proceeds with business.

Something Phil says to Davis inspires more peculiar behavior when he tells his son-in-law that sometimes it is necessary to dismantle and take something apart to understand its insides. In scenes that follow, we see Davis dismantle his refrigerator as he tries to ascertain the cause of the leak and a creaky bathroom stall door at his office; separating the discrete parts neatly on the floor. And most confounding of all; he strips his office computer; leaving the wreck in myriad parts on the office floor. Phil's dismay prompts Davis' compulsory leave of absence.

Davis' letters to the vending machine company become frequent, which elicit a response from a customer service representative named Karen, who begins following him surreptitiously. When Karen agrees to meet Davis at a diner, she watches him from the parking lot and calls him on his cellphone to tell him she can't join him. But in the days following, she continues to follow him and read his letters. Davis tries to find her at work then at her house. To his surprise, he encounters her boss at the door, who is more than just a little angry and puzzled to see a customer on his doorstep at 11pm. Karen (Naomi Watts) is naturally flabbergasted at the sight of Davis but accepts his latest letter before discouraging him to return.

But Karen's boyfriend leaves on a trip, allowing Davis to visit her at home. One might expect the friendship to quickly morph into something sexual but instead we the makings of a quirky friendship. Soon Davis becomes acquainted with Karen's son Chris (Judah Lewis, in a performance that is sure to make Hollywood notice), who offers him a gruff greeting sprinkled with four-letter words. Davis learns Karen's relationship with her teenage son is troubled by a lack of connection in a way that echoes Davis' problems with his wife.

As Davis' friendship with Karen burgeons, he becomes friendly with Chris; discovering a troubled teen in need of an ear and and fatherly companionship. Davis learns Chris has been suspended from school for giving a too-honest and too-graphic account of an incident in the Afghan War. With time on his hands, Chris joins Davis in his efforts to demolish his home.

It is fairly clear at this point in the film that Davis' obsession with dismantling objects and demolishing his own home is a metaphor for his attempt to break down his life and as his father-in-law said; "to understand what is in the inside." It also serves as a symbolic means to understanding his failed relationship with his wife, who haunts his waking life as a specter.

The more time Davis spends with Karen and Chris, the more he becomes estranged from his job and his in-laws, particularly Phil, who is angered by his son-in-law apparent apathy to a scholarship fund he has formed in honor of his daughter's memory.

Strangeness abounds in Davis' behavior as he and Chris test a bullet-proof vest in the woods with Karen's boyfriend's gun. Chris shoots Davis in the side and just as he recovers from the bullet's ferocious impact, Chris shoots him again. The scene, though harrowing in its own way, shows the growing trust between Davis and Chris. When Chris becomes more comfortable with Davis, he confides in him one day about his sexual confusion. The issue is made more poignant when Davis catches Chris dressing up in the bathroom.

In spite of Davis' behavior, which continues on its destructive course (he buys a bulldozer on e-bay to facilitate his home's collapse, only to be thwarted by the defective vehicle), he comes closer to dealing with his wife's death on emotional terms. But shocking developments are never in short supply in Vallee's film. While demolishing dresser drawers in his home, he discovers his wife's ultra-sound photo. Davis' judgement being unsound, he chooses to confront his in-laws about it during the scholarship-fund awards ceremony. As he heads to the door, his mother-in-law reveals another shocker about the baby.

As the story winds down, a few threads are tied-up though not neatly. Davis' issues with his wife are resolved in a semi-satisfying manner and the film's final scene reveals a rapprochement that is significant for its happy resolution.

So much is happening in Vallee's film, it is amazing how the various characters and scenes manage to cohere. The tone shifts at times, from dark drama to dark comedy to blithely surreal to upbeat conclusion. I'm still not sure if the film works as a whole but so much of it is too wonderfully eccentric to dismiss. One of my favorite shots in the film is of Davis walking toward the camera on a crowded city sidewalk. As he moves forward, one notices that the crowd is effectively moving backward--a nice, subtle, visual touch.

As much as I enjoyed the film, there is something about the end that seems incongruent to everything that came before. Or maybe I've become suspicious of films that insist on buoyant endings. One could pose a counterargument that the ending is well-earned. And does the demolition metaphor work? Is it too heavy-handed?

Vallee's soundtrack is quite delightful. I like music that is directly incorporated into the story. Heart's Crazy on You is not only part of the soundtrack but the song itself becomes part of a question Davis poses to a gathering of his office colleagues during a meeting.

I like Vallee's film. I found its flaws to be minor or negligible. I don't think it's the great film it had the potential to be but it worked well enough. Its limited release will work against it but it will find its way to those who will appreciate its oddities.

Midnight Special

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Jeff Nichols/Starring: Michael Shannon, Joel Edgerton, Kirsten Dunst, Adam Driver, Sam Shepard, Jaeden Lieberher and Bill Camp

Jeff Nichols, director of the creepy and intense Take Shelter, now ventures into the sci-fi realm with Midnight Special, which comes with its own measure of intensity. Joining Nichols is his frequent collaborator; the always impressive Michael Shannon, whose tightly-wound performance ensures the drama always simmers. While maintaining an exciting, kinetic pace, the story's mysteries are dispensed sparingly until its wondrous climax--which elicits a sense of wonder--mitigates the film's heightened edginess.

Nichols' film begins in what is a chapel on the grounds of a doomsday cult compound in Texas. The cult's reverend, Calvin Meyer (Sam Shepard), has just been accosted by FBI personnel during his service, while his bewildered congregation looks on. Questioning the reverend behind closed doors, we learn the FBI is looking for Meyer's adopted son Alton (Jaeden Lieberher); a child the parish looks upon as their savior. Why would a little boy be of importance to both the government and a cult? NSA analyst Paul Sevier (Adam Driver) gets to the heart of the matter when he asks how and why a little boy would have encrypted codes to a government satellite?
The boy becomes more of a mystery when Meyer tells the agents the boy speaks in tongues.

As the FBI and NSA hunt for Alton, Meyer dispatches two cult members to find the boy and return him to the compound. Meanwhile, Alton's real father; Roy (Michael Shannon) and his best friend Lucas (Joel Edgerton) have taken the boy from the compound and are racing off to a place unknown to the audience. Judging from Roy and Lucas' desperate determination, we gather they are fully aware other interested parties are hot on their tail as they speed down the highway. We first catch a glimpse of Alton in Roy's car as we see the young boy in odd, blue goggles, though we aren't sure of their purpose. As Roy and Lucas plot their course, Alton is enthralled with a Superman comic book. Roy gently chides Lucas for giving Alton comic books after the boy asks about Kryptonite. We learn comic books were a pleasure denied Alton in the compound.

While on the run, their car becomes known to the authorities, making a safe refuge a high priority. They visit a former member of the cult, who offers them shelter and anonymity. During their stay, the house begins to shake violently, which prompts Roy and Lucas to enter Alton's bedroom, where they find a blinding ray of light connecting his eyes to this friend's. Roy and Lucas manage to free their friend from the link and scold their friend for daring to look into Alton's eyes. Their security compromised, Roy, Lucas and Alton flee.

Nichols; a master at holding the audience captive in an unnerving and sustained state of suspense, slowly reveals Alton's secrets. Though the origin of Alton's extraordinary powers is withheld until later in the film, we get some sense of the scope of his abilities. During a stop at convenience store, Alton wanders away from the vehicle and into the parking lot. There he stares at the sky until Roy hurries to his side from inside the store. As they both look up into the sky, they (and we) see glowing orbs of light, which begin to bombard the parking lot. The three drive away hurriedly and later, during the FBI and NSA's investigation, we find that Alton has essentially destroyed a satellite designed to warn against nuclear attack. Other, less destructive powers emerge. While driving, Alton begins to speak Spanish. Roy tells Lucas that it is something he does often and while turning the radio dial, we find that Alton is actually repeating a Spanish DJ's radio patter word for word.

Roy and Lucas manage to find Alton's mother Sarah (Kirsten Dunst), who takes them in and hides them. We find that Sarah gave up her son in the past due to her inability to care for him.

Alton is ultimately kidnapped after Meyer's armed thugs shoot Lucas and Roy. But before they can give chase, they discover Alton has been captured by the military and government agents.

During Alton's captivity, he is held in an empty, white room. His goggled face gives the impression of someone strange and alien. In one of the film's best scenes, Alton and Sevier meet inside the chamber while the other personnel are dismissed. Alton tells Sevier that he is neither the savior the cult craves nor the weapon the government believes he is. Sevier becomes sympathetic to Alton's plight, knowing the boy must reach the place which his father and Lucas intend to find. After helping Alton to reunite with Roy and Lucas, Sevier handcuffs himself to make it appear as though he was overpowered. Refusing Sevier's request to come along, Alton, Roy, Lucas and Sarah speed away.

In time, Alton finally reveals his true nature and why he must reach the area for which he and the others have risked their lives.

Nichols doesn't cheat the audience with anti-climactic nonsense but satisfies our intense curiosity about the boy. The movie's otherworldly, uplifting end is a fascinating, dramatic counterpoint to the scary, sometimes violent story that precedes it.

What is particularly interesting about Nichol's film is how he chooses to parcel out expository information, which is always dispensed on a need-to-know basis. Without becoming bogged down in clunky, pace-hobbling, explication, Nichols keeps the audience wired by doling out discrete quanta of information about the characters and Alton's mission. Though the movie moves along at brisk clip, Nichols keeps the story and action tight.

Nichols collaborations with Shannon have been fruitful and succeeds again. It is an exceptional trick of casting to have Joel Edgerton; another actor known for his edgy performances, to play Shannon's sidekick. I was surprised to see Kirsten Dunst; I hadn't seen her in a film in some years but she holds her own against two dramatic stalwarts; Shannon and Edgerton.

I find distressing to learn Nichols' film is only playing in very select theaters. I never saw one advertisement or trailer for the film. How is such a terrific film supposed to find an audience when little care has been assigned its promotion? Is it because Shannon and Edgerton aren't Chris Hemsworth or Ryan Reynolds in the handsome hunk department? A major disservice has been done to this film. It deserves far better.

Like 10 Cloverfield Lane, Nichols' film appropriates a genre to tell a compelling and thrilling story. It moves along, never forgetting its audience and it rewards us for our attention. It promises and doesn't renege.

Hello, My Name is Doris

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Michael Showalter/Starring: Sally Field, Tyne Daly, Max Greenfield, Natasha Lyonne, Elizabeth Reaser, Stephen Root, Wendi McLendon-Covey and Peter Gallagher

Sally Field is an infrequent sight on movie screens these days but when she does appear, she is memorable. She acquitted herself very well in Spielberg's Lincoln and has again in the recent Hello, My Name is Doris; director Michael Showalter's new comedy. Field is an old hat at comedy; having honed her talent on T.V. in shows like Gidget and The Flying Nun. She brings her quirky charm to her new role, which helps brighten the story considerably. Though Showalter's film is unassuming, it manages to be fun and surprisingly entertaining.

Sally Field plays Doris Miller; a dowdy, aging, unmarried woman who toils at a job as a data-entry clerk in a Brooklynese company where she is surrounded by younger, hipper co-workers. Unlike her colleagues, who reside in the trendy borough to the south, Doris ferries to work from her home on the less-hip Staten Island; a fact that isn't lost on at least one of her co-workers.

Doris spends her days with her close friend Roz (Tyne Daly, who makes a small part crackle) and resisting her brother Todd's efforts to clear their deceased mother's house of accumulated junk, which she stubbornly refuses to shed. Doris finds herself at odds with Todd's wife Cynthia (Wendi McLendon-Covey), who is more insistent about the junk-removal. The situation becomes problematic; prompting Todd to force his sister to see a therapist about her pack-rat problem.

But for Doris, a more significant development unfolds at her job. A young and handsome, newly-transferred employee in upper-management named John Fremont(Max Greenfield) makes Doris' acquaintance in the elevator on his first day, where they find themselves pressed awkwardly against each other. During his introduction to the staff, he surprises Doris and the young employees when he mentions meeting her in the elevator. Thrilled about John's recollection, Doris begins fantasizing about romantic encounters between them; only to be jarred back to reality at inopportune times.

Smitten by his charms, Doris and Roz's grand-daughter invent a Facebook persona to find out more about him, including his favorite band. Doris buys a CD of the band and casually leaves it lying on her desk for John to see, which he does. Thrilled that John notices it, she buys a ticket for their concert in Brooklyn. She also surprises her brother and sister-in-law the day of the concert when she abruptly excuses herself from a dinner to catch a ferry to see the band. Of course she runs into John at the show, and his ecstatic response at seeing Doris only intensifies her attraction and her hopes of romancing him. The story takes a fantastic, barely plausible turn when the band notices Doris in the audience and ask to meet her after the show. Enchanted by her colorful concert-wear and her unique sense of style, they invite her to be on the cover for their new CD.

As Doris falls further for John, she ignores the possibility that his interest in her could be strictly platonic though Roz, more attuned to reality, warns her; afraid her friend may be hurt.

During the course of the story, we learn more about Doris' past. We learn the company decided to keep her after it merged with another company. We also learn of a broken engagement to a man who moved to Flagstaff, expecting her to follow, only to find Doris was unable to leave her mother alone. The scene where she shares this story with John is quite touching.

Later we learn that she sacrificed college and a life to care for her mother while her brother pursued his ambitions. This sore spot in their relationship is addressed during a scene where Doris, her therapist Dr. Edwards (Elizabeth Reaser), Todd and Cynthia gather to deal with the clutter in Doris' mother's house. Though the doctor's efforts to assist in sorting the junk are helpful, Cynthia's impatience brings the already combustible situation to a head; causing Doris to explode. She forces everyone out but not before mentioning her sacrifices for personal happiness to her brother.
The junk Doris intends to hold onto is a pretty handy metaphor for the anger and disappointment of her past from which she refuses to free herself.

Doris experiences a painful setback in her pursuit of John when she discovers he is seeing a young, blonde beauty. Following them one night as they stroll the city, she finds she is unable to avoid running into them. John introduces her to his girlfriend, who immediately takes to Doris; inviting her to a social knitting circle. Doris' passion for John culminates during a Thanksgiving dinner for his friends when she finally expresses her feelings for him. What follows seems inevitable and unsurprising and it precedes some radical change in her life. In the end, Doris realizes she must make amends to Roz, who she has forsaken in her fantastic flights of romance.

Showalter's story is mainly about Doris' awakening and her search for self-affirmation. In earlier scenes, she becomes enchanted with the advice of self-help guru Willy Williams (Peter Gallagher, perfectly cast for the role), who dispenses motivational advice she takes to heart. One of Williams' go-to self-help gems finds utility when he insists impossible is really a contraction of I'm-Possible.

In the final scene, the audience is tricked one last time into believing one of her fantasies is real, but a ambiguous moment thereafter renders the story and her life open to possibilities. In the end, she comes to realize her friendship with Roz is all-sustaining.

Showalter's film isn't great and I feel I've seen some of it elsewhere but works on its own modest terms. Some of it is overwrought and overstated. Doris' look is a little too dowdy and matronly to be real (particularly her horn-rimmed glasses). But Sally Field makes us care about Doris. She has had her disappointments and one failed relationship but she isn't pathetic or needy.

Hello, My Name is Doris is a pleasing indie flick that is small but not small-minded. Sally Field is a joy to watch;giving one of her better comedic performances in some time. Many of her roles in the last decade or so have been very serious but here she reminds us that her roots are in comedy. Her Doris is not to be pitied but liked. It is safe to say I feel the same for the film.

I Saw the Light

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Marc Abraham/Starring: Tom Hiddleston, Elizabeth Olsen, Bradley Whitford, Cherry Jones, Maddie Hasson and David Krumholtz

I don't know if the world needs a narrative film on country music great Hank Williams but you can be sure it didn't need a sloppy, clunky and junky biopic like director Marc Abraham's I Saw the Light. If a film features a name cast but opens only in one local theater, you can be pretty sure industry folk know something you don't and what they know they deliberately withhold. They only hope you'll overlook the stench wafting out of the theater and throw caution and greenbacks to the wind. A what a reek Abraham's film generates! If you didn't know the subject was Hank Williams, you might think the movie was about any philandering, drunk musician. But its single greatest flaw is its casual regard for Williams' music, which the story treats almost as an intrusion; a pesky interloper that keeps getting in the way of the seamier side of the singer's life.

The trendy aesthetic the film adopts is the black and white to color imagery seen in another current music biopic; Born to Be Blue. We see and hear two men from William's life; filmed in the recollective black and white of the present while their memories--depicted in color--represent the past. One of the men; famed music publisher Fred Rose (Bradley Whitford), shares facts of Williams' life with an unseen interviewer (documentarian?). Rose appears periodically throughout the film as a kind of narrator and purveyor of tragic details though we never learn just who he is talking to.

We see Williams (Tom Hiddleston) just before he achieves super-stardom; playing radio gigs and honky-tonks in his Alabamian home-state with his band and wife Audrey (Elizabeth Olsen), who lends her vocals to the performances. Shortly thereafter, we see the couple exchange vows at a gas station in Andalusia, Alabama, as the proprietor performs the service. Though the couple shows outward signs of marital bliss, Audrey experiences frustration as she tries to share the stage spotlight with her husband. But she finds her marriage trying for other reasons; one of them being her mother-in-law Lillie (Cherry Jones, who is continually upstaged by set props), who she battles constantly for influence in Hank's life. Another glaring issue is Hank's drinking, which threatens the marriage and becomes a professional liability.

Eager and ambitious, Hank's dream of playing at the Grand Ole Opry hits a snag when the legendary venue's director tells him to come back when he has achieved more success. Undeterred, Hank is able to record a single, Lovesick Blues, over Rose's protestations about the song's suitability. The single becomes a hit and before long, Williams receives an invitation to perform at the Opry.

As Williams' sordid behavior on the road becomes habitual, Audrey begins to express her disgust with his womanizing and before long Hank finds himself barred from their home. Soon after, divorce proceedings commence.

When not enthralled with the dramas offstage, the film manages to devote some time to Williams onstage; performing some of the songs for which he is known. Hiddleston does a respectable job performing the songs and doing his level best to appear Williams-like. As with every music biopic I see, I had hoped to see some scenes of song-craft, giving us a sense of the artistry behind the music but I guess directors consider such scenes un-cinematic.

We see more of Williams relationships and his marriage to Billie Jean Jones (Maddie Hasson). We do see him achieve his dream of playing the Grand Ole Opry, which is followed by his return to Alabama as a country music hero. He is able to accomplish both in between pissing women off and his passion for the bottle.

And though we see Williams sing Your Cheatin' Heart and Why Don't You Love Me, we get to hear precious few of his other classics. How does a film about Hank Williams not include even a snippet of Jambalaya? Or Kaw-Liga; songs that stand as tall as Hey Good Lookin', if not taller? Why must the music take a backseat to scenes such as one where a doctor diagnoses Williams' chronic back problems as spina bifida, a sequence that does little to shed light on the man except to explain his pain. Are we all dying to know about Hank Williams' lower back aches? Yes, two great country songs were preempted by spina bifida. As for the influences behind his music, Williams' love for gospel as a child is mentioned in passing.

When tragedy strikes late in the film, we don't feel a sense of heavy loss but relief that such a tepid film has mercifully come to an end. We don't even get obligatory end-titles telling us about Williams' musical legacy, just an abrupt cut to the closing credits. Maybe that's for the better.

Hiddleston and Olsen are fine in a flop. Too bad for Hiddleston; playing Williams' is a refreshing departure from his role as Loki in the Thor franchise.

The formulaic, music biopic narrative we've come to know: artist hungry for stardom--artist secures brass ring--artist womanizes and abuses substances--artist dies at young age--may as well be chiseled as a script blueprint on a bronze plate for unimaginative future filmmakers to follow. If you really want to know about Williams' life, you could do far worse than read a Wikipedia entry. But if you prefer to watch a flick about a musician who romances a few chicks, drinks lethally and sings a few famous tunes, then this is your stop. Just don't expect more.

Krisha

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Trey Edward Shults/Starring: Krisha Fairchild, Trey Edward Shults, Bill Wise and Olivia Grace Applegate

Krisha; the first feature film by writer/director Trey Edward Shults, is a dark, disturbing, character study that allows us to form an indelible impression of its subject with minimal dialogue and change of setting. Shults' film creates a movingly tragic portrait of a woman whose troubled past has made the present a terrible nightmare. The story and characterizations are crafted with economy and precision but in spite of its appropriately slim 83 minute running time, Shults' film seems quite complete.

The opening scenes are memorable for what they forebode and how they establish character and setting. The very first shot is of a white-haired woman's face as she stares directly into the camera. Her scared, anxious expression and baggy eyes leave the audience puzzled and unnerved. Shortly thereafter, we see the same woman in a tracking shot as she tromps through suburban yards in search of a particular house; her dog and luggage in tow. When she finds the correct residence, she is welcomed inside by a sizeable group of people, presumably family. The woman; Krisha (Krisha Fairchild, in a superlative performance), is greeted warmly by the those inside as the camera pans the room to show us the various family members while discordant music plays on the soundtrack. The harsh, strident, score reflects something dangerous and imbalanced in Krisha's presence; perhaps a troubled state of mind or something terrible to come. But what? Who is this woman who can set the audience on edge when we know nothing about her?

After securing lodging within the house, we see Krisha open a box with a label on its cover to discourage curiosity. Inside it we see bottles of pills and sundry items. She quickly opens one of the bottles and downs some of the contents. Does she have a drug dependency? If the pills are health-related, what precisely is she suffering from? Or are the pills psychotropic? Shults leaves us with many questions.

As Krisha interacts with the large gathering, she takes on the labor-intensive task of cooking a turkey for what is presumably Thanksgiving. As she painstakingly prepares the turkey and fixings, we also see her interact with her sister, what are most likely young nephews and brothers-in-law. All seems fairly normal until she asks one of the young men to join her for a private conversation; to "catch-up" on things. From his body language and reluctance to chat, we intuit a mother/son relationship that is anything but happy. This is confirmed in later scenes as Krisha eavesdrops on her son, Trey (Trey Edward Shults) and an uncle, who offers him fatherly advice, which denies her participation. We begin to see other disturbing signs of Krisha' frail, mental health as she surreptitiously searches through bureau drawers.

Conversations between herself and a brother-in-law seem amicable but are less so later when he makes not-so-friendly comments about her past behavior. While the family interacts and plays together, we see Krisha steal away to take her pills and later, as her son goes to lengths to avoid her and her family keeps her at a cautious arms-length, she slowly becomes unhinged. Confiscating a bottle of wine, it becomes apparent her alcoholic past has been her bane and the wrecking-ball of her relationships.

The family dinner is where Krisha suffers a total collapse; first dropping the turkey on the kitchen floor in a booze-fueled mishap then confronting the family at the table; accusing her sister of turning her son against her, which results in her dismissal from the table. The coup de grace comes when her son disowns her.

By the final frame, which reprises the first shot, we have a fairly complete picture of Krisha's life and failures and can easily ascertain the particulars of her future, which is decidedly grim.

I like the way Shults' film takes its time; doling out information slowly; forcing the audience to piece Krisha's life together from her relationships as the story unfolds.

A good challenge for a filmmaker is to make a compelling drama in one location; a house with fixed array of characters. Shults manages to keep the audience on edge; we feel almost certain Krisha will have a violent episode, but we're never sure to whom it will be directed or if it will claim a victim. She is a ticking time bomb and a frightening one at that. Repeated private calls to a boyfriend tells of another failed relationship, which contributes to her spiral.

Krisha Fairchild, who I understand is the director's real-life mother, digs deep into her character; opening Krisha's insides to show us a weak, failed mother; failed everything who has little hope of salvaging a satisfying life or overcoming her addiction. As a sixty-something trying to convince herself of her stability, we can see defeat is a more certain course. Fairchild's performance is brave and tough without a mitigating moment of sentimentality.

It would be difficult to walk away from Shults' film feeling hopeful but the truth rarely spares our feelings. That's what Krisha does; it serves us the truth about a woman's life and doesn't compromise the film's power with a last minute petition for emotional affirmations. It's tragic and not easy to watch but it doesn't lie.