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.

Mortdecai

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: David Koepp/Starring: Johnny Depp, Gwyneth Paltrow, Ewan McGregor, Paul Bettany, Olivia Munn and Jeff Goldblum

Based on the novel series by author Kyril Bonfiglioli, Mortdecai is a comedy about a relatively famous British art dealer who has fallen on hard times and is given an opportunity to rehabilitate his reputation by undertaking an assignment to recover a stolen Goya painting for MI6 and hence, the British government. Johnny Depp plays the title character, which gives him the opportunity to affect a British accent (Hasn't he done this an awful lot in his career?).

Lord Mortdecai's reputation in the art world is shaky at best and he isn't beyond selling patent fakes, which naturally invites collector's wrath and scorn.

When the story begins, Lord Mortdecai, or "Charlie" as he is known, and his wife Johanna (the ever-underwhelming Gwyneth Paltrow) have fallen on hard times, which means selling off prized paintings in his collection and his beloved Rolls Royce. To cause his wife further dismay, he has taken to wearing a pretentious, Victorian-esque mustache that curls upward at the ends. A running gag is the revulsion that overcomes Johanna whenever she kisses her husband. The retching that follows the kiss is supposed to be funny but it isn't amusing and even less so when the gag is trotted out several more times throughout the film.

Mortdecai is visited one day by the head of MI6, who also happens to be an old schoolmate from Oxford named Martland (Ewan McGregor). Martland hopes to enlist Mortdecai's help in finding a Goya that went missing during a restorative cleaning. It becomes known to the audience that Martland has always been in love with Johanna, which hardly endears him to Mortdecai. The thief is known to be a terrorist, though Martland is puzzled as to why said terrorist would want the painting. Mortdecai agrees to help his old classmate but only after some coaxing by Martland, who tries to appeal to his sense of patriotism.

Mortdecai's houseman and bodyguard, Jock (Paul Bettany; probably the only mildly amusing character in the movie) accompanies him in his search, which brings them into contact with unsavory figures in the art world.

As their search leads them abroad, it comes to light that a number was written on the back of the painting; placed there by Herman Goering, who once had the Goya in his possession. The number is a numerical key to a treasure cache resting in a Swiss bank that the terrorist intends to use to finance his organization's operations.

Most bad comedies manage to elicit one chuckle, if not a guffaw from the viewer but not here. I think one might find more reasons to chuckle watching Foxcatcher than Mortdecai. I also think the producers (Depp among them) probably felt the accent and the mustache alone would do all the comedic work, with Depp's British affectations buttressing his performance. Unfortunately they don't. And they aren't funny in and of themselves. With most of the other characters playing the straight-men (with the exception of Jock), we have to turn to Mortdecai for the comedic cues.

Also not funny or interesting is Martland's repeated attempts to steal Johanna away from Mortdecai. A cameo by Olivia Munn as the nymphomaniac daughter of a rival art dealer named Kramf (Jeff Goldblum) goes nowhere, though she turns out to be in cahoots with the terrorist.

As the story leads to a climactic auction house sequence where all parties are involved in the sale of the Goya painting, I found myself impatient for the film to end. I had truly grown tired of not-laughing.

Maybe a more capable director or screenwriter could have wrung some laughs out of the silliness, or maybe the character just isn't that funny. Depp certainly doesn't mind playing ridiculous people but there is something vaguely over-familiar about Lord Mortdecai. Why does if feel as if we've seen this character somewhere before?

I would have liked to see someone like David Niven in this role. I think he would have brought more warmth and color--and more of his signature wit and charm, to the story. And if all Paltrow can lend to the movie are her tallness and blondness, then why not cast a female with strong, comedic ability instead; someone who can be an affective foil to Depp?

Where and how it all ends doesn't really matter. Anyone who has seen the unprepossessing trailer can guess what happens. I truly hope I don't see a trailer in 2016 for Mortdecai 2. That would be tragic. Let's hope we've seen the last of that mustache.