Movie Review: American flyers went “Above and Beyond” to ensure the birth of Israel

above“Above and Beyond” is a moving and entertaining documentary about the young international volunteers who dashed to Israel in 1948 to create an Israeli Air Force.
They were World War II vets from the U.S., South Africa, Britain and elsewhere. Most, but not all, were Jews, and virtually none could speak Hebrew. The only aircraft they could get their hands on were smuggled out of American scrapyards or obsolete, poorly-assembled German ME-109 fighter planes built in Czechoslovakia.
They risked losing their lives and their citizenship in what most regarded as a hopeless, lost cause, fending off “a second Holocaust,” which newspapers and Arab leaders in Jordan, Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Syria and Iraq had threatened.
“It was the dumbest thing I ever did,” one survivor says now, laughing.
It wasn’t a lost cause, and although many died, the survivors remember it as “the greatest thing I ever did.” Many, like future screenwriter Harold Livingston (“Star Trek: The Motion Picture”), discovered their Jewishness through the experience.
“It made me a mensch,” he quips in the film.
Guys like Livingston, Lou Lenart, Coleman Goldstein and Gideon Lichtman may not have been able to find Palestine on a map. Most remember coping with American anti-Semitism, hiding their heritage and enduring their parents’ sniping that they weren’t observant “Good Jews.” But when Britain announced it was withdrawing from Palestine and the Arab world threatened to destroy the Jewish community there, its ranks swelled by the emptying of Europe’s concentration camps, they had to act.
Plus, “We had a lot 0f testosterone,” one admits. “We didn’t want to waste it.”
Roberta Grossman’s film is one-sided and triumphalist, to be sure. The expert witnesses here are all Israelis, Jewish academics and the like. This isn’t a movie that debates the sort of state Israel became or whose land it was founded on.
“Above and Beyond” is a jaunty recollection of the clandestine means a handful of people used to raise money, buy aircraft and arms and recruit pilots, “going through (stolen) military records, looking for Jewish-sounding names” of ex-pilots and aircrew. Every time they got a taker, it was “meet Swifty” or some guy wearing a flower in his lapel on west 47th in Manhattan. They formed a fake Panamanian airline, smuggled planes to Czechoslovakia and got their first look at the clumsily assembled German fighters many of them would take into combat.
It’s fascinating, hearing from these still-swaggering flyboys and their descendants, one of whom reads his dad’s mission debrief from a 1948 crash. Having crashed a German plane, surrounded by armed Jews, wearing a Luftwaffe surplus flight suit and not speaking the language, Milton Rubenfeld just shouted the names of every Jewish food he knew to keep his captors from shooting him — “Matzo! Gefilte fish!”
The guy proudly reading that comical account? Rubenfeld’s son, Paul “Pee Wee Herman” Reubens.


MPAA Rating: Unrated, with some profanity, violent combat images

Cast: Harold Livingston, Lou Lenart, Paul Reubens, Gideon Lichtman, Coleman Goldstein.

Credits: Directed by Roberta Grossman, screenplay by Sophie Sartain. An International Film Circuit release.

Running time: 1:25

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Producers Guild goes for “Birdman,” “Lego Movie” and “Life Itself”

The PGA is widely regarded as the surest of sure fire Oscar indicators, and if so, that means “Birdman” is the favorite come Academy Awards night. It took the two top awards at Saturday’s Producers Guild honors.

But “The Lego Movie” won best animated feature, and “Life Itself,” the Roger Ebert bio-boc, won best documentary. Both worthy winners, but not even up for an Oscar — “snubbed” by the Academy.

So make of all that what you will. “Boyhood” isn’t the Best Picture favorite, but an “upset” is more likely than usual. 75% of the time, PGA awards reflect future Best Picture Oscars.

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Box Office: Another “Sniper” weekend, J.Lo opens well, Depp bombs

boxoffice“American Sniper” looks to have tallied another 50-$61 million this weekend, after yet another massive Friday. It’s a certified smash, a rare one in Clint Eastwood’s canon, and should have cleared $150-$175 by the end of its run.

“Wedding Ringer” is showing Kevin Hart’s box office heft — both it and “Paddington” should finish the weekend at about $35 million, total.

“The Boy Next Door” was crucified by critics, but Jennifer Lopez still has fans who show up for her movies. It will tally $14-15.3 by weekend’s end.

But “Mortdecai” is a massive flop for Johnny Depp, whose “Pirates” stardom rarely translates into hits, unless Tim Burton is involved. Under $5 million.

And Disney and George Lucas treated “Strange Magic” like it was radioactive. It’s not very good, though as proof of concept, the animation is “Avatar” level, even if the story is thin fantasy gruel. “Star Wars” visual references abound in this world of fairies, elves and goblins. It opened on over 3000 screens and barely registered on any of them. Under $2 million.

“Imitation Game” is turning into the biggest hit among the serious best picture contenders, lingering in the Top Ten. “Boyhood” and “Theory of Everything” are in the second ten, with “Cake,” in modest release. “Black Sea” and “Song One” did OK biz for films opening in a few dozen theaters each.

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Movie Review: “Strange Magic”

STRANGE MAGIC“Strange Magic” is a cartoon fantasy cooked up from a half-baked idea from George Lucas.
The hook in that this tale of fairies fighting goblins over a love potion is that every minute or three, some fairy, elf or goblin bursts into song. Those songs cover over sixty years of pop music history, from Elvis to ELO (the title tune), The Four Tops to Lady Gaga. And since they’re covered by everyone from Evan Rachel Wood to Alan Cumming and Broadway baby Kristin Chenoweth, parents will have a “Who WAS that?” puzzle, something to while away the time with as their kids doze off in the seats next to them.
The story, cooked up by Lucas and allegedly based on “A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” concerns fairy princess Marianne (Wood), who has caught her intended, the warrior Roland (Sam Palladio) cheating on their wedding day. She’s over men, and sings a little Kelly Clarkson to prove it.
She armors up, so any chance the smarmy Roland had is gone, unless he can get some primrose-based love potion from The Dark Forest. That’s where the goblins, led by The Bog King (Cumming) have imprisoned the Sugar Plum Fairy (Chenoweth, natch), who knows how to make Love Potion #9.
The short, trollish elf Sunny (Elijah Kelley) pines for Marianne’s sister Dawn (Meredith Anne Bull) and takes the quest for the potion in the hopes of wooing her with it.
And that’s all there is to it, aside from the Bog King’s mommy (Maya Rudolph) issues, and a sea of songs.
Wood singing “I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You” is better than Bull’s take on “Sugar Pie Honey Bunch (I Can’t Help Myself”), and Kelley’s rendition of Bob Marley’s “Three Little Birds (Don’t Worry About a Thing”) works. A wan version of  “I Can’t Live, If Living is Without You” makes you wonder why they wasted a song with so much urgency on a situation and performer simply not up to it.
There isn’t a laugh in this thing, not one. Shakespeare is nowhere to be found or felt in its inspiration.
However, it does play as a nice proof-of-concept reel for Industrial Light and Magic. The animation — butterfly winged fairies of great detail, skin so translucent you can see light through it, skin with freckles — is impressive.
The character design, however, never achieves “cute.” It’s creepy, pretty much across the board — just human enough to be a turn off. .
And that story is a reminder that when you’re as big a deal as Lucas, it’s hard to find somebody who will tell you that new idea for a movie needs more time in the mixing bowl, and oven, before filming begins.


MPAA Rating:  PG for some action and scary images

Cast: The voices of Evan Rachel Wood, Alan Cumming, Elijah Kelley, Kristin Chenoweth, Alfred Molina

Credits: Directed by Gary Rydstrom, script by David Berenbaum. A Touchstone release.

Running time: 1:39

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Movie Review: “Mortdecai”

As you might have guessed from the daft and something-short-of-hilarious TV ads, “Mortdecai” is an extended inside Anglo joke that most of us aren’t in on. Rather.
But for a certain sort of Anglophile, one who recognizes the attempted homage to ’60s comedies, the late comics Terry-Thomas and Dudley Moore and other inspirations for Mike Myers’ “Austin Powers” pictures, it’s something less than awful.
I mean, if watching Johnny Depp mince and curl his “Kaiser Bill” mustache and quip in his most foppish upper-class twit Brit accent for 100 minutes is your cup of Earl Grey, have at it.
Charlie Mortdecai is an English lord, an inbred art dealer, tax dodger and, by his own admission, “a rogue, a scoundrel.” But when the Crown calls on him to find a missing Goya painting that was stolen when an art restorer was murdered, duty calls. That, and he owes $8 million in taxes and his bullying beauty of a wife (Gwyneth Paltrow, on the money) might leave him if they’re broke.
Ewan McGregor plays a former Oxford classmate, now an MI-5 agent who wants this painting back and who pines for Mortdecai’s wife. Paul Bettany is Jock, the Kato to Depp’s Clouseau-like klutz. Jock takes punches and bullets for his boss, who always asks his driver, “manservant and thug” one thing — mid-calamity.
“Will it be all right in the end?”
Jock refuses a straight answer. With reason, it turns out.
The movie rather pointlessly jets from London to Moscow, Hong Kong to Los Angeles. Others want the painting, a colorless lot of Russians, Chinese and an American. Jeff Goldblum has too little to play to give the film a decent comic foil and a much-needed arch villain.
What director David “Premium Rush” Koepp was shooting for was something on the order of those Peter Sellers “Pink Panther” movies, unlikely over-the-top adventures endured by a reluctant anti-hero goofball. What he settled for is Depp twitching and mugging, in close-up, enduring an endless parade of mustache jokes.
“What IS that infernal thing on your lip?” is the cleanest.
Depp’s English accent makes an amusing setting for his scripted one-liners. The government has a hefty file on him, “fat and well-handled, like a Welsh barmaid.” His euphemisms for luring his wife to bed are a stitch, a “quick session of congress, ‘Sink the Bismarck’ if you will.”
The story is nonsensical and the action tepid. So if you don’t find the Brit-quips funny, there’s not much for you in “Mortdecai,” just vintage British motorcars, foppish gibberish and Depp curling and re-curling that mustache, punctuating every line with “Right!” or “Quite!” That makes for a quite watchable mess.


MPAA Rating: R for some language and sexual material

Cast: Johnny Depp, Gwyneth Paltrow, Paul Bettany, Ewan McGregor, Jeff Goldblum

Credits: Directed by David Koepp, script by Eric Aronson, based on a Kyril Bonfiglioli novel. A Lionsgate release.

Running time: 1:46

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Movie Review: “The Boy Next Door”


Universal’s “The Boy Next Door” is almost so bad it’s good. Well, at least they got the “bad” part of that equation right.
A risible stalker thriller predicated on the absurd notion that Jennifer Lopez is still a movie star, it’s “Fatal Attraction” without the rabbit. And mostly without the fear.
Ryan Guzman of the later “Step Up” movies is the man candy who moves in next door to an about-to-divorce suburban school teacher Claire (Lopez) and her shy, allergy-riddled teenage boy, Kevin (Ian Peterson).
Dad (John Corbett) is a midlife crisis cliche, driving the purple Dodge Challenger, promising to never sleep with his secretary again. So he’s not quite still-in-the-picture. Enter Noah, the kindly, helpful 19 year-old taking care of his aged uncle next door.
Noah helps fix a garage door, helps Kevin score points with the cute kid in high school and helps himself into Claire’s classics literature class. Noah is all about “The Iliad,” quoting it, strutting like Achilles through the high school halls.
And Noah is “hot for teacher,” or to go more modern, he’s all about Claire, so he’s “all about the bass.”
Barbara Curry’s clumsy script concocts a bad blind date to irk Claire, and a hysterically mature seduction when Noah gets Claire alone.
“No judgements, no rules,” he purrs. “Just us…You can TRUST me.”
Of course she can’t. But since she’s had a little wine, has peeked at him stripping at night and isn’t shy about her own assorted skimpy pieces of underwear or sleepwear, Claire is ripe for the plucking. Because, you know, that’s the way women were depicted in the 1950s — helpless in the face of assertive caressing, sweet-talking and such.
Her instant regret leads to a lame excuse. “I got caught up in the moment.” He’s not having it.
And since we’ve seen flashes of Noah’s temper, watched him take her son out for pistol target practice and seen Claire wonder if someone is sneaking into her house, we know what “The Boy Next Door” is capable of. We know his moves before he makes them. So we just sit and wait for the pot to boil and some poor bunny, or its equivalent, to get cooked. This isn’t natural material for director Rob Cohen, who peaked with “Dragon” back in the last millennium (“Stealth” is kind of where he’s been ever since). The seduction scene plays and is photographed like softcore porn, the jokes are clunky and every punch is telegraphed, given away long before the fist is balled up.
Lopez is a gorgeous woman with the same mousy voice she came into the movies with 20 years ago. She’s all about the makeup, the hair, the clothes. She plays the part like someone imitating a TV teacher, from her classroom posture to her delivery.
Guzman is an equally fine specimen, though he’s a bit light on the menace and over-the-top in his playing of anger mismanagement.
No, don’t start picking apart the logic here, the clues everybody misses, the reactions that fly in the face of reason when Noah starts showing his hand. It’ll give you a headache.
The basics might be tried and true — a creepy, young, obsessive hunk who has an insidious influence on her son, her body and her life. But they’d have to be perfectly executed to work. And they aren’t.
Thus, “The Boy Next Door” is condemned to the movie equivalent of a bad neighborhood — January — where flops like this and Universal’s equally disastrous “Blackhat” are not so much released as written off.

1half-starMPAA Rating: R for violence, sexual content/nudity and language

Cast: Jennifer Lopez, Ryan Guzman, Kristin Chenoweth, Ian Peterson, John Corbett

Credits: Directed by Rob Cohen, screenplay by Barbara Curry. A Universal release.

Running time: 1:31

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Movie Review: The vast sea and burning sun are the enemies in “Against the Sun”

Three downed Navy airmen stuck on a raft in the middle of the Pacific in World War II for weeks on end. It’s a familiar movie narrative, at least in part, because it happened more than once, even happened to a future president (George H.W. Bush) and happened to the hero of “Unbroken.”
“Against the Sun” doesn’t reinvent this mini genre, with its yellow life raft, men slowly starving, sun-blistering and dying of thirst. But its light moments, pallid highs and emotional lows show how this sort of movie is supposed to work. It sometimes moves us, where the admittedly more arduous ordeal of Louis “Unbroken” Zamperini failed to move, at least on the big screen.
Garret Dillahunt of TV’s “Justified” stars in this low budget “true story,” playing the torpedo bomber pilot who got lost in those pre-GPS days of early 1942. The Chief, his Ohio bombardier (Tom Felton, Harry Potter’s Draco Malfoy) and the frustrated Missouri radioman (Jake Abel of “The Host”) drop into the sea. They have time to prepare, gather gear they’ll need.
But much of that gear goes down with the rapidly-sinking plane. And they have no idea where they are.
The life raft becomes a crucible for conflict, starting with recriminations. The ad hoc crew blames the confused pilot, the Chief vainly re-establishes the chain of command, and lashes out at the radioman. And every single step they must take to survive is shown in all its difficulty. Just flipping the raft over the middle of a steep swell is excruciating.
“We’ve got procedures for this,” they reassure one another about their chance of rescue. “Come early mornin’, they’ll be on us like an old houn’dog.”
That’s never the case. Next thing you know it’s “SHARKS!” and “Do they have hurricanes in the Pacific?”


“Why do I keep asking these questions?”

Director Brian Falk and cinematographer Petr Cikhart wash out the colors with the sun, limiting our field of view to that of the crew. The story the film tells crosses the same bridges most such stories traverse — hallucinations, that first desperate rain shower, fishing for food, sharks. The last of those is rather too-obviously faked.
But the players never let on that they didn’t have an “Unbroken” budget, with Dillahunt nicely interpreting the Chief’s journey from blame to acceptance, and Felton suffering like he means it. Abel does well playing the defiant one, ready to join in the class war his officer/pilot seems to want to start.
However, much of the edge is rubbed off these potential conflicts. And noble as this struggle was, it’s still an overly-familiar one, as far as the movies go. Still, even with its digital bomber crash and phony sharks, “Against the Sun” lets us put ourselves in the place of these three, something “Unbroken” never managed. The simple, myopic setting and uncluttered story help.2stars1

MPAA Rating:  PG for thematic material involving peril and hardships, and for language

Cast: Tom Felton, Jake Abel, Garret Dillahunt

Credits: Directed by Brian Falk, screenplay by Mark David Keegan and Brian Falk. An American Film Company release.

Running time: 1:39

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Movie Review: Aniston is the frosting, the plate, the whole reason to see “Cake”

anistonA comedy that barely flirts with funny and a grim weeper that never quite raises a tear, “Cake” has one thing going for it — Jennifer Aniston. And if she didn’t get the Oscar nomination that might have seemed certain when she took on playing this physically, emotionally scarred and suicidal pill-popper, that’s of little consequence. The work is good enough to stand on its own, to stand with the best acting she’s done since graduating from TV sitcoms.
Claire Bennett wears her bitterness like the healed cuts that mar her face. A bad thing has happened to her, so bad that she’s in group therapy. But she doesn’t fit in with Annette (Felicity Huffman) and the other walking wounded. They lash out, as an exercise, at a dead woman (Anna Kendrick) from their group who killed herself. Not Claire. She notes the manner of death, the horror and humiliation and inconvenience Nina caused her widowed husband and little boy.
“Way to go, Nina! I hate it when suicides make it easy on survivors.”
The one continuity in Claire’s pained, dazed life is her housekeeper, Silvana (Adriana Barraza). She’s the one who drives Claire to physical therapy, where she curses a blue streak. Silvana indulges Claire, goes above and beyond and tries to encourage healing. But she tends to a woman in such pain she cannot sit up in the car seat when riding, cannot help but mix wine and Oxycontin, which she cons one of her doctors (Lucy Punch) out of.
The presence of Punch, Huffman, Judy Greer and Chris Messina (as Claire’s estranged husband) suggests a tone that this script never quite rises to. Claire is acerbic, occasionally amusing, occasionally getting a rise out of those she interacts with. But the dead Nina (Kendrick) becomes her main sparring partner as this lonely woman, six months after whatever put her into this state, drinks and drugs herself to death. And those chats aren’t funny.
Nina’s ghost is in her pool, on her ledge, in her room and in her head. Nina is the one who wonders “Why?” Why would this atheist-loner kill herself?
That seems obvious. Less obvious is Nina’s reasons for offing herself. Claire starts asking around, questioning the highway worker who called out “Don’t jump,” the last person to see Nina alive. Claire even starts in on Nina’s husband, given marvelously human dimensions by Sam Worthington.
Kendrick is bubbly and on-the-nose, Barraza puts flesh and bone on a character written as a “Dios mio!” cliche — Catholic, kind-hearted, loyal.
But Aniston sells this movie, delivering the few one-liners with sitcom timing, packing a wallop in a third-act meltdown and making us believe that yes, there are reasons to check out and Claire has them, or would if she’d sober up and gutcheck herself into going  through with it. It’s a terrific performance, and makes “Cake” worth seeing, even if Aniston won’t get an Oscar for it.

MPAA Rating: R for language, substance abuse and brief sexuality

Cast: Jennifer Aniston, Adriana Barraza, Sam Worthington, Felicity Huffman,
Anna Kendrick

Credits: Directed by Daniel Barnz, screenplay by Patrick Tobin. A Cinelou/Freestyle release.

Running time: 1:42

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Movie Review: “Black Sea”

His hair is thinning and his features are thickening, and Jude Law is evolving into a more interesting actor as this happens. He’s more at home in
tough guy roles such as “Dom Hemingway.” The gritty submarine thriller “Black Sea” is his latest one of those. But in this case, it’s a salty performance that seems just beyond his grasp.
Law plays Robinson, a newly-laid off submarine pilot whose marine salvage company has no more use for sub pilots. He’s a Royal Navy vet who
“lost my family to this job.” And now he doesn’t even have that.
But a sickly ex-colleague knows of a score, a way to get even with “the bankers” and “people who get filth like us who get them to do THEIR
dirty work.” It’s a Nazi submarine, lost in the Black Sea in the early days of World War II. And it might be full of Soviet gold.
All Captain Robinson has to do is procure a sub, recruit a crew, sidle up to it, send divers over and pluck out the Nazi bullion. Simple, right?
Of course, there’s the matter of who actually owns the gold rights, and the Russian Black Sea fleet that’s based close by.
Director Kevin MacDonald (“The Last King of Scotland”) doesn’t do much with the “gathering the team” sequence. They need Russians and
Brits, old salts — retirees. We learn that this diver (Ben Mendelsohn) is “a psycho,” and that Russian sonar recruit (Sergey Veksler) has “the best
ears in the Russian navy.”
To a one they’re misfits, hotheads, “penguins,” graceful and at home under water, “useless on dry land.”
Robinson, rather inexplicably, brings a kid (Bobby Schofield) along. More explicably, the mysterious financier behind the venture sends his land
lubber American aide (Scoot McNairy) to watch after his investment.
Their sub? A retired Soviet “Foxtrot Class” rustbucket. The handful of Russian hires know how to operate it, but only Blackie (Konstantin
Khabenskiy of “Nightwatch”) speaks English. The Brits are short-tempered and greedy, the Russians superstitious and fatalistic. We can guess
how this will go wrong.
The sets are impressively corroded, damp and dank, from the worn wooden paneling in the crew quarters to the rusty big red stars that adorn
each torpedo tube. The movie morphs from a heist picture to a sub survival movie to a Greed Gets to You thriller and is more convincing in its
first two modes than in the last. The thrills in this thriller are few and far between, and the tense moments are either utterly predictable or arrive, out of the blue.
Mendelsohn, of “The Dark Knight Rises,” makes a creepy, mercurial impression. McNairy (“Argo”) makes a fine
management weasel, and young Schofield generates a little sympathy.
But this is Law’s vehicle, and he seems more concerned with keeping Robinson real than in turning up the temperature on the performance. We
may see the family he lost in flashbacks, but little of what motivates him is obvious. He hates “them,” i.e. “The Man.” He is determined to get
that gold, come what may. But Captain Robinson is no Captain Queeg. His bitterness and a rage that is meant to suggest madness just aren’t
That contributes mightily to a third act that sinks this overlong, drifting thriller deep into the sea that is its title.

MPAA Rating: R for language throughout, some graphic images and violence

Cast: Jude Law, Scoot McNairy, Bobby Schofield, Ben Mendelsohn, Konstantin Khabenskiy, Grigoriy Dobrygin

Credits: Directed by Kevin MacDonald, script by Dennis Kelly. A Focus Features release.

Running time: 1:54

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Movie Review: McGregor goes dark for “Son of a Gun”

You’ve never seen Ewan McGregor quite like this — all sadistic, ruthless and what not.
In “Son of a Gun,” he plays Brendan, an escaped convict who busts out of the joint, does a job and is double-crossed. And Brendan isn’t pleased with what he must do to the henchmen of the guy who double-crossed him, all that “shouting” and pleading.
“It’s all, ‘Oh please Nooo,'” he purrs in that once-sweet Scottish burr. “‘NOT the thumbs! I’m just learnin’ the piano!”
Brendan, as we’ve seen, is capable of just about anything.
“Son of a Gun” is a quite conventional Australian prison thriller that morphs into a heist picture. McGregor isn’t the lead, that’s the young Brendan Thwaites of “Maleficent,” an Aussie hunk who plays a kid, J.R., whom Brendan takes under his protection in prison. Upon getting out, J.R. finds himself drawn into the criminal underworld where Brendan was more at home, where the Russian mobster Sam (Jacek Koman) presides.
The kid and the older con are hurled into a not-quite-impossible heist. And the kid falling for Sam’s skinny Euro-stripper arm candy, Tasha (Alicia Vikander) will be the least of their difficulties.
Writer-director Julius Avery put much of his energy into cooking up character traits and illustrating them. Brendan and J.R. are both avid chess buffs. No real explanation how or why, they just know all about “sacrificial pawns” and Bobby Fischer’s use of the “Son of My Sorrow” strategy.
J.R. cannot swim, which makes his courtship of the streetwise Tasha wet and salty.
Thwaites is OK in a role that demands mostly passivity out of him, and Vikander (“Anna Karenina”) is slinky temptation incarnate.
But McGregor is the one with his work cut out for him here, looking tough amongst veteran Australian screen toughs, swapping hardbitten lines with the best of them.
“When’d they let you out?”
“They DIDN’T.”
The milieu — coastal-industrial Australia — is interesting, with its stoner arms dealers and crazed thugs of every age. But what sells “Son of a Gun” is McGregor’s presence and performance, a guy using and mentoring a gullible but gutsy young man, trying to impart the wisdom of the wizened con to the kid.
“You do NOT bend the rules for a piece of skirt!”
Start to finish, tattoos to two-fisted punchouts, we totally buy him as a hardcase. And to think he’s always seemed so…sweet.

MPAA Rating: unrated, with bloody violence, nudity and profanity

Cast: Brendan Thwaites, Ewan McGregor, Alicia Vikander

Credits: Written and directed by Julius Avery. An a24 release.

Running time: 1:48

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