Preview, Cumberbatch and Shannon, as Edison and Westinghouse, go at it in “The Current War”

Got to love the pun in the title.

And are there two more intense actors working today than Benedict Cumberbatch and Michael Shannon?

“The Current War” is about the war between Edison and Westinghouse, between AC and DC.

With Nicholas Hoult as Tesla, Matthew MacFadyen as  J.P. Morgan and Tom Holland as Charles Insull, this may be one we have to catch on Amazon Prime or Netflix. Theatrical? Not every period piece, not every movie distributed by this studio, gets a a substantial theatrical release. Started life as a Weinstein project, now it’s with eOne. Not exactly limbo.

But worth posting in the hopes that it’ll see the light of day.

 

 

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Movie Review: Second time’s not the Charm for “Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again”

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You only get to sweep us off our feet once, and expecting to do it again is just…greedy.

Where the guiding light in the original musical, “Mamma Mia!,” was the disco-era delights of Abba, the sequel “Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again” takes it cue from another disco queen — Andrea True. As in “More, More More, How do you like it?”

Not nearly as much.

The many many songs are mostly forgettable deep tracks from the Abba repertoire, as the first film burned through most of the hits. Not that some of those aren’t reprised.

The cast is VASTLY expanded — double the number of Oscar winners —  as the story takes us into the past, when “Mamma” (played by Meryl Streep in the first film) was is a young coed in search of her “destiny” in Greece, tumbling for three different young men in the process. The production numbers, choreographed by Anthony Von Laast, involve a sea full of Greeks, an army of dancing French waiters, restaurant patrons and staff dressed as Napoleon.

And they’ve killed off “Mamma,” for Pete’s sake. Donna (Streep) has been dead a year, daughter Sophie (Amanda Seyfried) is finishing up the quaint Greek Island hotel mom always dreamed of. “Grand opening” or not, there’s a pall cast over the whole affair.

It’s not helped a lot by the cleverly integrated flashbacks, where Lily James of “Downton Abbey” is the young Donna raving up Oxford graduation with her Donna and the Dynamos pals (Jessica Keenan Wynn is the young Tanya/Christine Baranski, Alexa Davies the young Rosie/Julie Walters) doing the little known “When I Kissed the Teacher.”

Donna sets out across Europe seeking adventure and romance. That leads her to the charmingly awkward and virginal Harry (Hugh Skinner as the younger Colin Firth), the dashing Swedish sailor/writer Bill (the Bjorn Borgish Josh Dylan as the young Stellan Skarsgaard) and the more romantic but spoken for Sam (Jeremy Irvine as the young Pierce Brosnan).

As the movie bounces through “Angeleyes” and “Kisses of Fire,” we’re reminded that English wasn’t the Swedish quartet’s first language, and there’s a reason most of these syntax-slaughtering groaners and filler didn’t make the “Abba Gold” hits package.

Still, I liked what they did with “Andante, Andante,” and turning the title tune into a lament (sung by James) is a smart play.

So was casting James as the Boho young Donna,  a pre-Jane Fonda Workout Video/pre-“heroin chic” beauty with voluptuous curves and hair that she works, onstage, like a rock star.

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Seyfried can’t carry this show by herself, Dominic Cooper (as Sophie’s great love) has little to play. So Andy Garcia makes a smoldering  “The Most Interesting Man in…Greece” manager for the hotel, Señor Cienfuegos, who makes the other older Dynamos’ hearts skip a beat. You already know the big guest star, Cher, as grandma, and she gets a couple of age-appropriate numbers.

Celia Imrie is a singing, dancing vice-chancellor at Oxford (Or was it Cambridge?), Hélène Cardona amuses as a taverna proprietress and Omid Djalili (“The Infidel,” rent it) all but steals the picture as a ferry ticket agent we watch age, from then to now, always with droll commentary on the principals and their appearances.

I mention all these peripheral delights because the young men cast as younger versions of the cream of dashing European leading men fail to impress. Random gags work, but none of the new additions sing any better than the fellows they allegedly grow up to be — Firth, Skarsgaard and especially Brosnan.

And for a movie set in sunny, touristy Greece, “Here We Go Again” is absurdly sound-stagey. Fake backgrounds abound, static staging (Cher needs it) with little movement, with other scenes positively overrun with movement.

The odd big outdoor show-stopper is as rare as funny lines for ANY of the leads. Director Ol Parker, of “The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel,” should go by “Fusty Ol Parker” after this one.

“Mamma Mia,” this time around, isn’t so much bad as dispirited. It finishes well, for instance, and then goes on beyond that big finish to spoil even that.

For all the over-the-top choreography and the many tunes, it takes forever to rope us in.

And for the odd bit of emotional connection that a great song can add to a sweet scene, it’s awfully reliant on the throw-away material of a band whose hits were hits for a reason, and whose flops are forgotten for a reason.

This is “Mamma Mia’s” B-Side.

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MPAA Rating: PG-13 for some suggestive material

Cast: Amanda Seyfried, Cher, Lily James, Pierce Brosnan, Julie Walters, Stellan Skarsgaard, Christine Baranski, Colin Firth, Andy Garcia and Meryl Streep. Credits:Directed by Ol Parker, script by Ol Parker, Richard Curtis and Catherine Johnson. A Universal release.

Running time: 1:54

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Preview, In Zombieland, Stanley Tucci IS “Patient Zero”

Matt Smith? OK.

Natalie Dormer? Flip your hair, dear, so we know it’s you. Meowwwwwrrrrr.

The desperate search for that first infected zombie (so as to affect a cure) leads to Stanley T. Thank heavens.

Looks fun, even if it is the umpteenth zombie movie in a “Walking Dead” world. Vertical has it, release date? “Sooooooon.”

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Netflixable? Whatever you do, don’t rile “Romina”

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A silent girl , Romina, is debriefed by police (in Spanish, with English subtitles) for purposes of criminal and psychological evaluation. Something happened last June on Crystal Lake.

Wait, Crystal Lake? Isn’t that where Jason Voorhees carried out hockey-masked mayhem every “Friday the 13th?” They have a Crystal Lake in Mexico?

A lot of people died and the girl (Francisca Lozanocan only nod her head at the names of the victims. “Narrate the events,” her interrogator orders.

No narration ensues, thankfully. Just the camera tracking over assorted mutilated, bled-out corpses, a female survivor. “Pelicula Adolescente muerto,” you say to yourself. It has spread to Old Mexico for this cut-rate horror quickie, “Romina.”

Six college age pals set off for the lake, four guys and two women. “Camping,” they giggle,  because they’ve never googled the phrase “Crystal Lake.” And the playful, profane banter in the car gets around to Romina, “that freak of nature.” But only briefly.

They’re not alone at the lake. There’s no cell reception. The women? They’re spooked by the fact that “somebody is spying on us,” etc. Whoever “she” is, the lads like that she skinny dips.

“Go get her, tiger. I brought a date.”

Ezekiel (Victor Bonilla) wanders off by himself, Ramon (Walter Berchtwanders off to find him. Sexual assault ensues.

And payback is a,…well, you know. “Didn’t you see ‘Evil Dead?’ ‘Friday the 13th?’ ‘BLAIR WITCH?'”

In a 76 minute movie, there is virtually no space for dead time, scenes that bore or do little to leap right into the action and advance the plot. Writer-director Diego Cohen manages to find some. Lots.

“Romina” toddles along like a student film, kids accusing the park caretaker, cursing each other at their bad fortune, camera lingering over the lake and the trees. Oh, the trees. Here and there, we see other buildings — homes? Businesses? You know, places they could turn for help?

What happens on camera? Comeuppance? “Tortura porno?” Naah. Just hints of a psycho-sexual power over the victims, non-victims discovering the remains of those caught, hog-tied and (usually) cut up, or weeping for their lives.

The performances are laughable. Suspense is dispensed with, “justice” in the retribution abandoned. Just a murderous, vengeful rampage with zero urgency or terror.

I want my 76 minutes back, Señor Cohen.

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MPAA Rating: unrated, graphic violence

Cast: Francisca Lozano, Victor Bonilla, Roberto Beck, Walter Bercht

Credits: Written and directed by Diego Cohen. A Corazón Films/Netflix release.

Running time: 1:16

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Preview, Nicole, Russell and Joel Edgerton push Lucas Hedges into “conversion therapy” in “Boy Erased”

Another November release with the cast and zeitgeist-grabbing subject matter to be an Oscar contender, “Boy Erased” features Osacr winners Russell Crowe as a Southern preacher, Nicole Kidman as the preacher’s wife and Oscar nominee Lucas Hedges as the son who thinks “about men, a lot.” Joel Edgerton (All these Aussies!) runs the sham of a “conversion therapy”: program, in this based-on-a-true-story drama.

Edgerton (“The Gift”) also directed this Nov. 2 drama.

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Documentary Review: Families cope with “different” children of every type in”Far from the Tree”

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Andrew Solomon grew up a child with “weird hangups,” dressing in costumes, “obsessed” with the more morbid poems of Emily Dickinson, and with tragic opera.

His affluent parents indulged all of his idiosyncrasies, right up to the day he came out to them as gay. Years of brooding over this estrangement made him curious about how other families “managed” dealing with children very different from them — the degrees of support they gave to a child who might be “every parent’s nightmare” — autistic, born with Down Syndrome, dwarfism, even parents of kids who commit inhumanly cruel crimes.

Like the rest of us, Solomon has been stunned by the pace of societal changes in the attitudes toward homosexuality, a “disease” that was regarded as “treatable” in his youth, now commonly accepted and to varying degrees tolerated, even in the most intolerant corners of America.

Solomon’s book “Far From the Tree” becomes Rachel Dretzin’s upbeat documentary of the same name, a film that celebrates “difference” even as it accepts the heartbreak and agonizing effort it takes for people and society to change attitudes towards those we have historically treated as “abnormal…diseased…retarded” and “broken.”

Dretzin profiles Solomon, and takes her camera into the lives of both the children born “different,” and the parents who found the focus, the energy and patience to make give their child the “freedom to be” at home in their family and in their world.

There’s Jason Kingsley, now 42, born with Down Syndrome in the ’70s, but fortunate enough to be born to New Yorkers who made educating him and proving the doctors who suggested warehousing him, “discarding him,” wrong. Jason lives in a group home now, has worked in a mailroom for decades. He quotes a little Shakespeare, revels in the ethos of the heroine of “Frozen” (“Let it Go”) and carries on frank discussions about his limitations and his future with his mother.

Back in the ’70s, no one would have thought any of that possible of someone “Mongoloid,” and medicine wasn’t operating along those lines. Emily, his mother, was a writer for “Sesame Street,” and father Charles was a painting contractor who made his son and his son’s misunderstood condition his cause.

Jason became a “Sesame Street” star, showing just how smart and adaptable someone with Down Syndrome could be. Jason and his parents almost single-handedly changed America’s attitudes about it.

Jack’s parents gave Dretzin access to home movies of his infancy, the bubbly child who soon made them realize he couldn’t communicate with them. “Autism” was the diagnosis, and like most every parent interviewed here, his mother, in particular, grappled with guilt over what she might have done during pregnancy to cause it.

“It was overwhelming,” his mother admits. “I didn’t want it.”

Then we see the therapy sessions that got through to the boy who cannot speak, the tearful reactions of Jack’s parents as they drift from opining that this time-consuming, tedious training was just a “parlor trick” to realizing they were watching a miracle of medical science at work.

Jack, using a computer/voice synthesizer keyboard not unlike Stephen Hawking’s, talks about his ultra-sensitivity to noise, about a life that is “like being a tiger in a cage” — at 13. We come to the same conclusion his parents did. Here’s a smart kid trapped in a body that won’t let him show it.

There’s a touch of affluence or at least comfort to almost all of the families presented here, because when you have money you can cast about for answers and devote the time and resources to finding help.

The more working class family of Loini, a lonely 23 year-old with dwarfism, are at a loss how to help her. She is isolated by her condition and life situation, until that magic day when she makes it to a Little People of America Convention. Her mother and sisters see the change that comes in finding one’s “tribe.”

The film then follows the happy, well-adjusted dwarf couple, Leah and Joe, who found each other in just that way. The outgoing activist Joe may be tied to a wheelchair, much of the time. But thinking “I must be miserable” is a mistake. He’s positively giddy around Leah.

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Solomon’s thesis isn’t one that lends itself to being neatly adhered to in a documentary, as we see Dretzin break format, first with the dwarfs — we only meet Leah and Joe’s parents briefly, in the film’s upbeat coda — then when she tests that thesis on the Louisiana (now Texas) family of a teen murderer, Trevor Reese.

The murderer’s parents are focused on to the almost total exclusion of their son, and the film doesn’t dwell on this part of Solomon’s wide net of “acceptance” and opinion that “defectiveness is a matter of perspective.” Families find ways to carry on, to get over the misplaced guilt they feel, and will love their children and try to help them. But for society to make that leap seems naive and indeed destructive.

“Far from the Tree” reminds us of the rapid pace of change, driven by medical and social sciences. And it shows us parents who, rather than throwing up their hands and accepting the medical/societal status quo, make the effort to first accept their child as “different,” and then make the rest of us aware that “different” is, in most cases, nothing at all to be ashamed or afraid of.

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MPAA Rating: unrated

Cast: Andrew Solomon, Jason, Jack, Loini, Leah and Joe, the Reese family.

Credits:Directed by Rachel Dretzin. An IFC/Sundance Selects release.

Running time: 1:33

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Preview, “Bohemian Rhapsody” delivers a second trailer almost as joyous as the first

Oh Freddie, you had me at “Roger, there’s only room in this band for one hysterical queen.”

Uncanny impersonation/performance by Rami Malek and the ensemble (Ben Hardy is drummer Roger Taylor, Gwilym Lee is guitar virtuoso Brian May, Joseph Mazzello is bassist John Deacon). delightful recreations of how they cooked up the musical effects in their masterpiece, climaxing with Live Aid, the greatest live show any rock band ever put on.

The trailers to “Bohemian Rhapsody” are raising expectations. They simply cannot release a movie that is anything less than joyous, a celebration.

November 2, we’ll know if we have something to celebrate.

 

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Netflixable? Fonda and Redford, together one last time for “Our Souls at Night”

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Netflix’s ongoing outreach movie audiences the theatrical release studios have abandoned includes making movies for filmgoers who by and large just don’t go to the movies any more.

Thus, “Our Souls at Night,” a reunion of 80something former “Barefoot in the Park” and “Electric Horsemen” co-stars Jane Fonda and Robert Redford.

A tale of two long-widowed neighbors in sleepy tiny Holt, Colorado, it is stately, quiet and elegiac, all respect-your-elders politesse for “Pleasantly dull.”

It begins with a drop-in, and “a proposal…not marriage,” from Addie, who lives down the street but doesn’t really know Louis all that well.

“Would you be interested in coming to my house sometime and sleeping with me?”

She adds a sentence that each of them will repeat, ad nauseam, over the next 100 minutes.

“It’s not what you think.”

One of the hellish adjustments of old age is loneliness. Your kids move away, your spouse dies, along with almost all of your friends. The elderly face a shrinking world of limited mobility, shrunken horizons and little human contact.

“Nights are the worst, don’t you think?”

Louis, a man of few words, has to “think about it.” But when he consents with the hope of lying awake and just having somebody to talk to, he is disappointed. At first. Addie literally cannot get enough sleep alone. So having company lets her catch up.

But as these sleepovers go on, they unburden themselves the way people do in fiction and the movies (it’s based on a Kent Haruf novel). She always thought he was “a good man,” he saw her as “a person of substance and character.”

Of course there’s a lot more to each of them than that — past flaws that these nightly confessions reveal. Present flaws include a reluctance to take this arrangement public. She wouldn’t mind, he prefers being her “back door man.”

“You know how people talk.”

Chief among those talkers is Dorlan, head gabber at the coffee-klatsch Louis drops in on at the cafe. Bruce Dern plays Dorlan, and he makes you think of “Nebraska” and much more realistic and honest a depiction of old age, family, dignity and indignities that was.

I started thinking of how much more spirited, colorful and interesting Louis would have been had Dern played him.

“Our Souls at Night” may accurately show flawed people still fretting over the past, still worrying about their adult kids (Judy Greer for him, Matthias Schoenaerts for her). A grandson is taken in and charmed into a more engaged and interesting kid by the close attention of his elders. He’s played by Iain Armitage of TV’s “Young Sheldon.”

The kid hijacks the story and turns the movie into something else, at least for a while. The “confessions” play into that, and a kind of abrupt disapproval leaps forth from one adult child, and perfunctory, ancient-history guilt trips are administered by both.

A more common gripe for me of films like this is their disconnection from the reality of old age in America. I might buy that a retired school teacher and widowed housewife might set a table for one for dinner, listen to jazz and lead their twilight years in quiet contemplation — in a European movie.

In America? The TV would be on, tuned to endless “Blue Bloods” marathons. And that’s where meals are taken, in front of the tube. Things around the house, like the folks who own them, start to go — grooming, housekeeping, attire and weight give this away.

Alexander Payne’s “Nebraska” nailed all that.

Never for one second do we buy into these two good-looking, well-preserved, trim and exercised outliers as anybody we’ve run across in rural America.

There’s nothing inherently wrong in making a romance novel fantasy about two unexceptional people played as ordinarily extraordinary by a couple of the prettiest movie stars ever to come down the pike.

But the stars, decades of warm feelings generated by their respective screen roles, reach for the mundane by underplaying, and that they do gingerly, because even the perfectly-preserved drop down into their lower gears past 75. And what little happens here feels humorless, predigested or at least sterilized for our protection.

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MPAA Rating: TV-14, adult situations

Cast: Robert Redford, Jane Fonda, Iain ArmitageJudy Greer, Matthias Schoenarts and Bruce Dern

Credits:Directed by Ritesh Batra, script by Scott Neustadter, based on  a Kent Haruf novel. A Netflix release.

Running time: 1:43

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Preview, Felicity Jones becomes the Notorious “RBG” in “On the Basis of Sex”

A Christmas present for fans of Ms. Jones and Ruth Bader Ginsberg, a bio-drama about what made her reputation long before she became the most beloved Supreme Court Justice by the left.

Oscar bait? One can only hope.

 

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Netflixable? “Deidra & Laney Rob a Train”

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Desperation, as a general rule, makes for good comedy.

For a “caper comedy,” it’s an absolute pre-requisite.

“Deidra & Laney Rob a Train” is fraught with desperation, real and comic.

Deidra (Ashleigh Murray of TV’s “Riverdale”) has it. She’s pretty much raising younger sister Laney (Rachel Crow) and brother Jet (Lance Gray) before flaky, self-absorbed mom (Danielle Nicolette) flips out one-time too many in the parking lot of the electronics store where she works.

“This is who I AM!” She smashes an HDTV, that gets classified as “domestic terrorism.” And she’s HAPPY in the joint, happy to ditch the three kids she wasn’t really raising..

“Every meal has a SALAD! ‘Salad law!'”

Super-organized, super-smart valedictorian Deidra sells homework and test prep assistant to classmates and fills her big wall calendar with the deadlines that loom larger with every passing day.

She’s missing school, struggling to get her scholarship applications filled out so that she can get into “any college that’s at least a two day drive from this Goddamned hillbilly town.”

That would be Shelbyville, Idaho. She’s from an interracial family, so her African American guidance counselor (Sasheer Zamata, funny) wants her to succeed, wants “one student I have here get into a college that doesn’t have ‘community’ in front of it.” The African American GC wants to get out of this GD hick town too, “to an inner city school, where things are…nicer,” herself. So, “I need you to get desperate!”

As the deadlines snowball, the responsibilities mount (Child Welfare Services is involved), bills roll in.  “Genetic determinism” (apples not falling far from the tree) is a fresh worry brought up in sociology class.

What if she’s just like her crazy mom and no good dad? No child support dad (David Sullivan) is no help. But…he does work for the railroad.

And there are ways, a century and then some after the deaths of Butch and Sundance, to rob a train. Can a very smart teen and her always-in-her-shadow sister pull off a heist?

The whole voice-over “How to rob a train” montage is the first dull stretch in a comedy built on good casting, sparkling dialogue, brisk editing and yes, desperation. I mean, wouldn’t you feel anxious about your future if you mom was in prison? Especially after she drops one little dollop of “serious” about her past into one prison visit.

“Thought I could reach for something more,” Mom lectures. “‘More’ is not for us.”

The capers are childishly clever and amusingly tense, but it’s the high school and home life stuff that sings here.

Missi Pyle plays the etiquette/home ec teacher running the Miss Idaho Teen Pageant who arm-twists downtrodden Laney into entering.

Tim Blake Nelson is the railroad detective on the case — “Trying to think of a small word that means ‘ignoramus.'”

And Myko Oliver is the ex-boyfriend who works at a burger joint who pooh-poohs Deidra’s other get cash quick schemes.

“Sell weed? You broke up with me because I sell weed.”

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A tip of the Pacific Western Railroad hat to the always-funny as a villain Nelson, and to screenwriter Shelby Farrell. Whatever else Netflix is doing to carve a niche in faintly-edgy teen films — crime, illegal substances, sexuality, profanity — starting with witty dialogue and likable characters.

“What do I want to be? You do realize that for thousands of years, that wasn’t a question. No Mesopotamian farmer asked his kid, ‘What do you want to be?'”

“Deidra & Laney” engage in a ferocious sibling catfight (“Bitch” always leads to a throw-down), struggle to cope with bills and school bullying.

The caper and its investigation robs the film of some of its momentum and fun. I’m inclined to say “Rob a Train” (rob “trains,” in point of fact) says what it has to say and does what it sets out to do in the first 45 minutes.

But this generally deft Sydney Freeland film gets more complex, sometimes comically so, for another 45. It also goes all sentimental.

Still, “Deidra & Laney Rob a Train” is that rare made-for-Netflix comedy clever enough, desperate enough, that it could have found an audience on the big screen.

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MPAA Rating: TV-14, burglaries, sexual situations, profanity (a single F-bomb included)

Cast: Ashleigh Murray, Rachel Crowe, Missi Pyle,

Credits:Directed by Sydney Freeland , script by Shelby Farrell. A Netflix release.

Running time: 1:32

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