Movie Review: Divers race to save One of Their Own from Taking his “Last Breath”

Fear of the inky black void at the bottom of the sea and of drowning down there drives the simple but flawlessly executed diver-down thriller “Last Breath.”

It’s an almost-real-time account of a deep sea diving accident, and a film — like “Sully” or “Only the Brave” — that illuminates a little-appreciated profession and the professionals who practice it.

Director and co-writer Alex Parkinson based this film on a documentary he made on the same subject with the same title of a few years back, putting the story in the capable hands of Woody Harrelson, Mark Bonnar, Cliff Curtis, Simu Liu and others and underwater cameraman Ian Seabrook, who give us a tense, workmanlike look into one of the world’s most dangerous professions in one of the most forbidding environments on Earth — hundreds of feet underwater.

“Saturation” divers spend month-long shifts doing maintenance on North Sea oil pipelines and rigs, living and sleeping in pressure chambers, diving for hours at a time to prevent leaks and fix gear in the pitch-dark of the sea bed.

Harrelson plays Duncan, the old salt and veteran of the trade whose 20 year career is winding down. “Peaky Blinders” vet Finn Cole is Chris, Duncan’s young Scots protege with a new seaside Aberdeenshire manufactured home and a fiance (Bobby Rainsbury) to come home to.

Simu Liu is Dave, a “legend” of the profession, “The Vulcan,” they call him. And Cliff Curtis is the new skipper of the Tharos, the support ship that gets divers to and from “the worksite,” and which hovers over that site — in all sorts of sea conditions — when it sends them below.

That “hovering” is what goes wrong one night during a storm. The thrusters that maintain station for the Tharos quit, divers are trapped below and there’s only so much time to save them.

This “true story” sets up like a veritable primer on perilous workplace melodramas of the “Backdraft” or “The Perfect Storm” model. The characters are “types” — the guy with the gal he promises to come home to, the crusty veteran being put out to pasture who regales one and all with his “in MY day” claims about all you used to need to do this deadly work was “a little common sense and a bottle of Scotch.” Throw in the perhaps untested captain, the all-business diving veteran you can supposedly rely on and the improvising crew who scramble to save the day before the oxygen runs out and you’ve covered all the formula melodrama bases.

Parkinson knowing this story backwards and forwards means he’s become an expert on how to tease out the suspense and tug at the heartstrings with this material.

And that is the oxygen that “Last Breath” lives on — a “routine” day on the job that is anything but, an outcome which we fear will be the worst and the people trained to handle the situation thinking outside the box, and whatever their emotions, never panicking, keeping calm and carrying on.

Rating: PG-13, profanity, life-and-death peril

Cast Woody Harrelson, Finn Cole, Bobby Rainsbury, Mark Bonnar, MyAnna Buring, Kosph Altin, Cliff Curtis and Simu Liu.

Credits: Directed by Alex Parkinson, scripted by Richard LaFortune, Alex Parkinson and David Brooks. A Focus Features release.

Running time: 1:33

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Gene Hackman: 1930-2025

Ninety five years old or not, the news of Gene Hackman’s death still hits as a shock.

As to what happened and why, let’s not speculate on that and let the police/coroner findings tell that story of him, his wife and dog dying in their house.

An Oscar winner and one of the greatest screen actors of his generation, he was brilliant almost every time he stepped in front of a camera.

I had the pleasure of interviewing Hackman a few times, and like Kevin Kline, he was the same shy guy who turned up on talk shows. Almost too shy to chat up, it seemed.

Bill Murray and others might remember a hardass, exacting and brilliant, on the set. But Hackman always said he was trained to act, not to be a celebrity or be interviewed.

That cocky, blustery larger than life persona that turned up in many a film, debuting in “The Poseidon Adventure?” “ACTING” as they say.

I remember him apologizing for “Welcome to Mooseport,” because nobody wants to “go out with a stinker.” Just as Connery apologized for his final film.

“Bonnie and Clyde” to “Young Frankenstein,” “Night Moves” to “Heist” and “Unforgiven,” “Crimson Tide,” “Hoosiers” and on and on the filmography goes, an “American Master” PBS has yet to get around to lionizing.

Droll in “Superman,” silly in “Heartbreakers,” “Royal Tenenbaums” and “Get Shorty,” an action hero here and there — “The French Connectionmovies, “The Package,” “Mississippi Burning”…

Hackman never ever disappointed.

Hackman “closed the door” on screen acting decades ago, and co-wrote Civil War fiction and did radio interviews about that which I’d catch from time to time. He seemed to be enjoying that sort of retirement.

A great one has passed, and however he passed, he was a unique presence. Find some classic he was in and watch it tonight. I know I will.

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Netflixable? “A Copenhagen Love Story (Sult)”

A little more effort in the “truth in translating the title” department would serve Netflix and its subscribers well, especially in the case of “A Copenhagen Love Story.”

That’s not exactly a lie, but the messaging in that innocuous title could convey anything from a rom-com to a romantic weeper. A romantic melodrama that begins with the hedonistic freedoms brought by the sexual revolution, that later dwells on the mental health challenges of “trying to get pregnant,” fertility treatments, abortion and stepmotherhood? That’s a tad unexpected.

That’s why this Danish film should have probably kept its vague but loaded with meaning Danish title — “Sult,” literally translated as “Hunger.”

“Hunger” is open to a few interpretations here. Because once you get past the callow opening act, where we meet the Danish pop novelist Mia, who spends her 30s devouring, dating and discarding younger men, this Ditte Hansen/Louise Miertitz adaptation of a Tine Høeg novel is adult in a lot of predictable ways, and in some surprisingly smart ones.

Mia’s “Tour de Force” is selling well, and she’s romantically “back in the saddle” with a “swipe swipe swipe” desire to sample Denmark’s smorgasbord of available men.

But rejecting a prospective set-up, Emil (Joachim Fjelstrup) because he’s “too old” is a moment of truth. “He’s the same age as you” (in Danish, with or without subtitles, of dubbed into English) she’s told. Emil is Mia’s chance to “date an adult for once in your life.”

Emil’s a divorced archaelogist with two small kids. And dating him changes Mia’s priorities. As she struggles with a follow-up novel, with her “process” involving a sort of confessional (voice-over-narrated) diary that morphs into a manuscript, she’s wondering about what she’s been missing while having all that free, independent fun?

“If you don’t have a child, do you remain a child?

How serious is she?

The early acts have snatches of gender reversal irony but little in the way of laughter, even as they are cast according to lighthearted rom-com formula. Mia’s got a married gay brother (Magnus Haugaard Petersen) struggling to adopt. Her person-of-color bestie (Sara Fanta Traore) has a little boy and a husband (Magnus Millang) who is more enthusiastic about having another than she is.

And her editor (Mille Lehfeldt) is eager to see what Mia’s latest personal experiences add up to in her next novel.

As Mia and Emil move in together as a family, their struggle to conceive begins. And that’s where the “hunger” in this “Copenhagen Love Story” shifts focus. They’ve simply got to have a child of their own.

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Documentary Preview: Damn right Rutger Hauer deserves a Biographical Documentary — “Like Tears in Rain”

Verhoeven and Miranda and Mickey and Robert Rodriguez and D’Onofrio and Whoopi are among those who appreciate the ultimate cinematic cult figure.

No Ridley Scott? Dude, make time for a movie like this. The title pays tribute to the best actor in one of your most iconiic films.

I interviewed Hauer when “Hobo with a Shotgun” came out. Not one of my favorites among his performances. Check out “Soldier of Orange,” “Escape from Sobibor” or “Blind Fury” to get what the “Blade Runner” fuss is about. Great actor, larger than life personality, humble and magnanimous.

Not sure if writer-director Sanna Fabery de Jonge has found a distributor worthy of his subject matter, but I dare say we’ll be able to get misty-eyed in appreciation of Holland’s greatest male film star on streaming or in a cinema near us sooon enough.

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Movie Review: A Veteran adjusts to Civilian Life with “My Dead Friend Zoe”

Perhaps only an Iraq War combat vet would dare to tackle Post Traumatic Stress Disorder with the sort of sarcasm and gallows humor of “My Dead Friend Zoe.”

Director and co-writer and ex-paratrooper Kyle Hausmann-Stokes’ film’s title character is a cynical smart-ass, a female veteran and a ghost. Zoe is, as advertised, “Dead.”

Zoe, given just enough edge by Natalie Morales, has the license to call her service in Afghanistan “the dumbest war of all time,” the sass to suggest she and her fellow GI trooper/ mechanic Merit (Sonequa Martin-Green) “watch ‘M*A*S*H’ again,” but this time not “as a drinking game” and the impatience to refer to the group therapy they attend back home as “kumbaya” nonsense.

But Merit is the one physically there at therapy. Dead Zoe is the snide commentator in her head and the ongoing presence in her life, and the most important thing Merit won’t talk about in “group,” no matter how much the doctor and Vietnam vet in charge (Morgan Freeman) demands it.

“My Dead Friend” is a nice showcase for constantly-employed TV actress Morales (“Parks and Rec,” Grey’s Anatomy,” “The Morning Show”). But it’s a star vehicle for “Walking Dead” alumna and “Star Trek: Discovery” lead Martin-Green.

It is Merit who must hide the “dead” friend she still communes with, among other unspoken traumas of her service. She does this while in court-ordered group therapy, something that’s interrupted when she has to care for her testy, “wandering” and increasingly forgetful grandfather and role model, a retired Lt. Col. played by Ed Harris.

That tells us this script is deep enough to attract talent, even as it gives Zoe and Merit Rihanna sing-alongs at work, even as Zoe serves up therapy-is-for-thee-but-not-for-me tough gal sarcasm softballs, even as she’s mocking Merit’s home state.

“Isn’t Oregon known for its serial killers?”

Freeman, who is as empathetic as he’s ever been on screen and the tightly-wound side of Harris lend the picture extra gravitas. But none of this would work if Martin-Green didn’t have the bearing of a soldier, one who has seen and experienced things. Compulsive jogging and visits to a cemetery are Merit’s coping mechanisms.

Introducing a possible love interest (“Pitch Perfect” alumnus Utkarsh Ambudkar) doesn’t add much that feels necessary, when layers of the Merit-Zoe connection and disconnection are left hanging. But even these mysteries benefit the film as we can infer “this” and understand without knowing “that.”

And Freeman’s doctor gives voice to talking therapy’s one essential truth in facing the many shades of PTSD, that one must “think very seriously about whether living in the past is worth it.”

Stay through the credits if you want to see how important this subject is, with or without jokes only those who’ve been through it truly “get.”

Rating: R, combat stress subject matter, profanity

Cast: Sonequa Martin-Green, Natalie Morales, Ed Harris, Gloria Ruben, Utkarsh Ambudkar and Morgan Freeman

Credits: Directed by Kyle Hausmann-Stokes, scripted by Kyle Hausmann-Stokes and A.J. Bermudez. A Briarcliffe release.

Running time: 1:38

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Movie Review: Cupid lets Mexican Couple Break Up in the Past, “With You in the Future (Contigo en el futuro)”

The Mexican romantic fantasy “With You in the Future” pretty much blows the “fantasy” part of its equation.

A sentimental “Peggy Sue Got Married/It’s a Wonderful Life” riff with a sprinkling of “Back to the Future,” “Contigo en el futuro” is about a couple whom Cupid revisits when they’re in the process of splitting up their belongings and abandoning their their twenty+ years of marriage.

Cupid, who “never f—s up,” offers them a mixtape from their youth and gives them “five songs” that they’ll hear that night to sort out erasing their present by interrupting their pasts.

“We’re like ‘The Terminator!'” Carlos insists to Elena, and Elena insists to Carlos. It’s a clumsy device that hobbles the film’s opening act and allows Cupid to overwhelm its finale.

But the sentiment in between is so winning it almost compensates for that. Writer-director Robert Girault taps into that universal cinematic truth — that for all the pain that life and romance hold, it’s always better to have lived, loved and lost than to never have loved at all.

Elena (Sandra Echeverría, radiant) dreamed of musical fame in her youth. She fell for Carlos (Michel Brown, brooding) and a conventional home and family. The day we meet her, she’s putting post it notes on everything she’s claiming in their house. He comes home to discover that he’s not just given her the house, but she’s taking most everything else as well.

That’s what happens when you say “I don’t want anything that reminds me of ‘us'” (in Spanish, with English subtitles) in the heat of the moment.

One thing they agree on? “Cupid got it wrong.”

But the ancient cherub (Mauricio Barrientos, not quite funny) who interrupted “my first vacation in 500 years” to haunt them would beg to differ. He “never f—s up,” he insists, more than once. Still, he gives them the mix tape and drives his new Corvette into the past, a Valentine’s Day in the early ’90s when teen Carlos (Fernando Cattori) met skating lead singer Elena (Mariané Cartas) of Elena and the Skates at his girlfriend’s Valentine’s Day party.

Carlos and Elena from the present will show up at that party and torment, trick, hoodwink and commit armed robbery to keep their youthful selves from falling in love.

Carlos from the present knows the history of soccer over the last 20+ years, which he might share with his dorky, sports gambling former “wingman,” Chickless (Harold Azuara, funny) if the aptly-named Chickless gives him a hand. And adult Carlos knows his life would have been easier had he stayed with his rich and connected girlfriend Cristina (Aminta Ireta) way back when.

Elena has the pain of present day loss and wondering “what might have been” had she stuck with pop music.

A cute touch here is that a key moment in their romantic past was meeting at a rock concert by the legendary Mexican band Maná, which by the way, was just announced as the first Mexican band up for admission to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

There are other cute touches, and funny bits in that Valentine’s Day party. And every so often, the script and the way the players perform it punches us right in the heart. The older leads grasp what they’re losing, the younger ones remind us of that first blush of true love.

Some such moments are surprises here, and some we see coming. But getting that part of this Back to the Romantic Past to End Our Romantic Future right makes a stumbling story of Cupid as God of Love fixing all that ails a couple perfectly bearable, and occasionally damned sweet.

Rating: TV 16+, gunplay, profanity

Cast: Sandra Echeverría, Mariané Cartas, Michel Brown, Fernando Cattori, Harold Azuara and Mauricio Barrientos

Credits: Scripted and directed by Roberto Girault. An MGM release on Amazon Prime.

Running time: 1:31

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Movie Preview: Nicole Kidman goes “Stepford” again — this time in “Holland”

All is not quite what it seems in “Holland” — Michigan.

Matthew McFadyen and Gael Garcia Bernal also star in this Mimi Cave (the kinky “Fresh” was hers) comic thiller.

March 27 on Amazon Prime.

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Movie Preview: Manic Pixie…Robber Homeless Girl? Luc Besson’s “June & John”

Action auteur Luc likes his thrillers sexy, and that’s what he hopes to accomplish by pairing Matilda Price and Luke Stanton Eddy in an LA “Manic Pixie Dream Girl” thriller of the “Something Wild” vein.

No laughs. No “stars.” Action. Romance. A young woman of mystery. Let’s hope she had male friends on the set, because of Besson’s “other” reputation.

April 25.

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Classic Film Review: Herzog’s “Cannes Darling” “Woyzek” (1979)

The great German director Werner Herzog and his muse, Klaus Kinski, marched through three films together in their peak years, 1978-82.

“Nosferatu the Vampyr” was a hit, and “Fitzcarraldo” was a career-defining epic for both director and star, an ordeal recognized, then and now, as a landmark of filmmaking megalomania and madness.

“Woyzek” was a small, inexpensive film tucked into the days just after production of “Nosferatu” wrapped. It was the quintessential “Cannes darling,” a movie celebrated at the film festival famous for its “groupthink” moments and breathless endorsements of movies that were never destined to thrive or even be heralded outside of the Cannes bubble.

“Woyzeck” can be appreciated today as Herzog’s “Rope” or “Psycho,” a minimalist parable with long takes and few edits, a filmmaking-on-the-cheap “experiment” from a filmmaker whose dreams were turning grandiose. The technical experiment doesn’t really pay off, although the long takes build tension as we subconsciously wait for a scene to pay off and an edit to release that scene and that tension.

But the story, adapted from the oft-staged and filmed play “fragment” by Georg Büchner, is simple to the point of simplistic, harsh and obvious and primitive and perhaps the least satisfying Herzog theatrical film of his earliest years.

A character portrait of a downtrodden, humiliated, under-promoted and unappreciated soldier in a 19th century provincial village, a man who descends into madness and murder over his lover’s infidelity, it’s appreciated as a near masterwork of German theatrical literature, one taught in German schools. In the hands of Herzog and a wild-eyed, foaming at the mouth performance by Kinski, it’s about as deep as a puddle and subtle as a cudgel.

The 40 year-old infantry private Woyzek (Kinski) is fast-marched into the frame as his introduction. His movements are played back in fast-motion, his face comically contorted with pain and fear.

Woyzek is disregarded by his captain (Wolfgang Reichmann), who has him shining his shoes and shaving him, a manservant in uniform. The local doctor (Willy Semmelrogge) has experiments in mind he might perform (for pay) on this lowest-of-the-low soldier on a dead-end career path.

The village doesn’t exactly shun Woyzeck. But he and his live-in-lover Marie (Eva Mattes) had a child out of wedlock, so they’re not blessed by the church.

As all the pressures of menial work, outsider status and assorted quack diet “experiments” by the doctor build up, Woyzeck realizes Marie is cheating on him with a handsome drum major (Josef Bierbichler). The private can’t even gain satisfaction from the man who is cuckolding him, as the drum major beats Woyzeck up when he’s accused.

This isn’t going to end happily.

The period detail is folk-tale perfect, but this narrative of oppression, revenge and madness plays out like an opera everyone in the audience can sing along with. It’s silent-cinema simple, with dialogue that rarely adds to our understanding of the obvious.

“I’d rather have a knife in my body than your hand on me,” Marie tells the father of her child (in German with English subtitles). That’s short enough to fit on a title card in the silent cinema, and foreshadowing at its most elementary.

Mattes doesn’t give much color to Marie, but still won Best Actress honors at the 1979 Cannes Film Festival. The “villains” here are bland archetypes.

But Kinski brings his usual savage commitment to this broken man fast-marching towards his doom.

With Büchner’s genius-who-died-young status in German letters, there’s debate about the plot turns “added” to this unfinished play and other ways it’s been edited, staged and filmed over the decades. Erring on the side of “logical” in determing the story’s course and outcome definitely renders “Woyzeck” less interesting than the madman-in-the-making that Kinski portrays.

Herzog somewhat downplays “Woyzeck” in his working-with-Kinksi documentary “My Best Fiend,” noting that Kinski was distracted and exhausted coming straight from “Nosferatu” to this role (they were filmed weeks apart) without mentioning that he himself was lurching from directing a demanding film to this far less demanding one.

One can appreciate the economy of budget and attempts at a new “style” that Herzog brought here. But unless you’re a count-the-27-edits obsessive, about the best one can say for this is he shot his “Rope” “Psycho” cheap and quick, and Kinski never disappoints.

And where is “Fitzcarraldo” streaming these days? There’s a tale of doom and madness worth sinking one’s teeth into.

Rating: unrated, violence, sexual situations

Cast: Klaus Kinski, Eva Mattes, Wolfgang Reichmann, Willy Semmelrogge and Josef Bierbichler’s

Credits: Scripted and directed by Werner Herzog, based on an unfinished play by Georg Büchner. A New Yorker Films release now on Tubi, other streamers.

Running time: 1:22

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Netflixable? The Hallmarkish charms of “La Dolce Villa”

You have to get past the sneaky feeling that the rom-com “La Dolce Villa” wasn’t just conceived and rigidly scripted according to “Hallmark” formula, but by some new AI that the greeting card company rents out to production companies.

Find a hunky, just-past-50 TV star as your lead, a “Pretty Little Liars” alumna willing to go “perky” and play the sweet, naive daughter and a lovely age-appropriate-but-unknown-in-North America Italian leading lady.

Park them in a scenario that involves such middle-age passions as home renovation and food, and set the whole enterprise in the most scenic, quaint and ancient Italian town (San Gregorio da Sassola) you can find, and you’ve got yourself a winner.

That “get past” is a big ask in a wish-fulfillment fantasy that’s about as surprising as a calzone, as original as pizza and as romantic and chaste as a 1960s romance novel. It’s Hallmarkish to the point of mawkish. All that’s missing is a Christmas tree or three.

But it plays. Scott Foley, a TV regular from “Dawson’s Creek” to “Felicity” to “Scandal” anchors it all in a sort of bland, dreamy unreality and there’s just enough scenery, “local color” and cooking to let this “It’ll all work out, we just know it” pass the time.

Foley plays Eric, a consultant who travels to Italy to check in on his drifting, hasn’t-found-her-purpose daughter. Olivia (Maia Reficco) is out of college, nannying, olive-picking and Renaissance Fairing her way through Europe. Part of a genration with “no job security, no health insurance” and stuck in a country that keeps voting itself further away from fixing that, she’s decided to buy a house in a shrunken, aged Italian village and make her life there.

It’s not as “trust fund baby” as all that, although we hear there is indeed a “trust fund” that her dead mom (another Hallmark cliche) left her. She’s buying an abandoned house for one euro in scenic but dying-out Montezera.

Dad’s efforts to intervene in this “insanity” meet Olivia’s determination to go through with it, and Mayor Francesca’s (Violante Placido) too-helpful “Let’s make this happen” attentions. The house shopping commences, as abandoned villas are totally a thing in dying-out rural Italy.

Sure, “We’ve got a renovation genius” (Simone Luglio) in town. Just one, though. Sure, the Italian “permit” bureaucracy is daunting. But Bernardo (Giusseppe Futia) is all over that. He’d like to be all over the mayor, whom he’s sweet on.

Sure, enough people there speak American English so that Olivia’s obsession with “vibing” is understood with many an Italian reassuring her “I got you.”

Wouldn’t you know it, “consultant” Eric used to be a chef and “consults” on restaurant operations. He’s swept up — a little — by the food. And this house? Maybe the “kitchen” has possibilities beyond a way-too-much-room-for-a-single-24-year-old’s “villa.”

Romantic complications abound in a story that doesn’t come close to committing to its first, best destiny — teaching a wound-up 50something workaholic the Italian “sweetness of doing nothing.” The sumptuous food is hinted at here and there, but that also lacks “commitment” by the screenplay.

“Are you seeing dollar signs again?” is as sharp as the criticism of the ever-so-American dad gets.

The home renovation stuff is sanitized for our protection. Makeup isn’t mussed, nary a hair it out of place, and our 20something tidies up a garden and helps with a little wall demolition without dirtying her belly shirt.

The cute little old gossips in the town square might have provided some seasoning, and Eric’s insistence that trips to Italy are “cursed” for his family is brought up and abandoned.

A script lacking surprises or true “tests” of its no-edge-at-all characters lacks drama, another hallmark of Hallmark-style romantic melodramas.

“Passes the time” is about as challenging as “La Dolce Villa” — the title’s a play on the Fellini classic “La Dolce Vita” (“The Sweet Life”) — gets. But it’s pretty enough and just engaging enough to suggest it might just become a series pilot.

And if that happens, you can bet they’ll get around to the Christmas trees.

Rating: TV-14, suggestions of intimacy

Cast: Scott Foley, Maia Reficco, Violante Placido, Simone Luglio, Giselle Gant and Giuseppe Futia

Credits: Directed by Mark Waters, scripted by Elizabeth Hackett and Hillary Galanoy. A Netflix release.

Running time: 1:39

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