Movie Nation

That late March animated window — spring break for elementary school kids, nothing else at the movies for them to see — opened wide for “Home,” a lesser Dreamworks offering that cleared $50 million, easily, a $54 million weekend for the Jim Parsons-voiced alien “invasion” comedy.

“Get Hard” did a very healthy $34 million on its opening weekend. Kevin Hart’s winning streak continues, Will Ferrell buys another year of box office relevance.

“Insurgent” fell off steeply, over 57%, to a $22 million weekend. It won’t hit $100 million until next weekend.

“It Follows,” the first decent horror movie of the year, opened pretty wide and didn’t exactly set the world on fire. Over 1,000 screens, over $4 million overall.

“Cinderella” is now over $150 million, and will pass Universal’s ghastly “Fifty Shades of Gray” next weekend as the year’s biggest hit. It’s doing great overseas, too.

“Do You Believe?”, from the folks who made “God’s Not Dead,” is still in the top ten — $7 million so far.

“Focus” will be a weaker Will Smith offering. It will finish up in the $60 million range, a little better than much older Kevin Costner’s latest, “McFarland, USA” is over $40 and will top out at $50, when all is said and done.

“Danny Collins” may be the closest Al Pacino ever gets to playing Pacino the legend on the big screen.
Perma-tanned under that vast black mane and Mephistophelian goatee, blinged in the Jersey Italian style, effortlessly larger than life and bowl-you-over charming, this is the post “Hoo-Hah” Pacino that he’s presented to the press and the public since “Scent of a Woman.” And he’s never been more engaging at being, well, himself.
Credit actor-turned-director Dan Fogelman for putting the real Pacino into this “kind of based on a true story…a little bit.” “Danny Collins” is about a rich and super-famous singer-songwriter sell-out in the Neil Diamond mold, a guy cruising for decades on hits that the sing-along audience basically performs for him. Then, like the real-life singer we see in the closing credits, he’s gifted with a letter John Lennon once wrote to him back at the beginning of his career, a little advice about “riches” and “fame” that might have served him well…forty years ago.
Danny quits his tour, ditches the “coked-up teenager who can’t keep her nipples covered” (his fiance, played by Katarina Cas) and heads to Jersey to meet the son he never knew.
That son, played by Bobby Cannavale with an exhausted, weary rage that long ago lost its heat, wants nothing to do with him. Nor does his slightly more sympathetic wife (Jennifer Garner, glorious). Their adorable ADHD daughter (Giselle Eisenberg) is another story.
Danny turns on the twinkle for the staff of the Hilton where he’s staying, especially the “age appropriate” manager (Annette Bening in a pasted-on grin that isn’t falling for anything). He sparkles for his “family.” And he drinks, even as he tries to stop sniffing the coke he keeps in the garish crucifix he wears beneath his constantly open shirt wrapped in an omnipresent scarf.
“Danny Collins” is entirely too on-the-nose to be much of a challenge, but it is about something, about taking stock, trying something hard and then wondering if the easy thing that’s gotten you by all these years is what you should go back to.
Bening and Pacino make their “banter” work.
“I’m an old man, with ten Scotches in him. What can I do?”
Fogelman laces the soundtrack with John Lennon songs, gets Christopher Plummer to play the saucy old manager/father confessor to Danny and Josh Peck to play a starstruck doorman. And in this F-bomb laced showbiz dramedy, he makes sure the only F-bombs that matter are from that crusty agent and the saintly “best daughter-in-law ever.”
It’s cute, with an R-rated edge that doesn’t insult the sensibilities of the AARP audience this should appeal to. And the gekko-eyed, leathery grin of Pacino holds it all together, whether it’s croaking Danny’s biggest hit on stage, dancing the “moves” that made the groupies swoon, back in the last century or hinting at the lonely vulnerability of a guy who gets — almost too late — the affirmation from his idol that could have changed his life.

MPAA Rating: R for language, drug use and some nudity
Cast: Al Pacino, Annette Bening, Christopher Plummer, Bobby Cannavale, Jennifer Garner
Credits: Written and directed by Dan Fogelman. A Bleecker Street Media release.

Running time: 1:46

Good acting and sharp editing make “The Barber” a most engrossing serial killer thriller. But too much talk, mostly in a lecturing over-explained finale, almost undoes all of that.
Scott Glenn has the title role, a Chicago man once a “person of interest” in 17 Chicago murders — young female victims were often buried alive — now an elderly, mild-mannered barber with a different name in a small Midwestern town.
Glenn, who has conveyed both menace and quiet kindness in a career that has had him playing convicts (“Urban Cowboy”) and FBI agents (“The Silence of the Lambs”) , is well-cast as a man who won’t stand for profanity, a friend to all, but with just a touch of menace.
Chris Coy of “The Walking Dead” is a young man who shows up in town, identifies the former Francis Visser, possible serial killer, and threatens him.
“I know that that itch doesn’t die,” the kid says. “Teach me how not to get caught.”
A clue about who he is. When the small town sheriff (Stephen Tobolowsky) arrests and roughs up the kid, the boy gives his name as “J.D. LaRue.” That’s a cop from TV’s “Hill Street Blues.” We’ve seen a cop, years before, kill himself over failing to build a case against Visser — a cop with a son.
Now, some stranger with serial killer leanings wants Visser to guide him.
“Class starts tomorrow,” the old man purrs.
The old man tells his protege to “Be clean, don’t rush…”Everywhere you go, you’re leaving puzzle pieces.”
And the kid learns — an oversexed waitress here, a rain-soaked hitchhiker there.
Meanwhile, back in Chicago, we meet a cliched garter belted hooker (Kristen Hager) who turns out to be a cop, and turns out to know the kid. She tracks him down to intervene.
Director Basel Owies deftly keeps parallel storylines marching forward, maintaining suspense despite the occasional lapse into situations that were worn out back when “Hill Street Blues” was on the air.
And as we head to the inevitable, predictable conclusion, the monologues lengthen and logic goes out the door. But in spite of its failings, chatty and otherwise, this “Barber” still delivers a pretty close shave.

MPAA Rating: R for violence, language and some sexual material

Cast: Scott Glenn, Chris Coy,Kristen Hager,Stephen Tobolowsky
Credits: Directed by Basel Owies, written by Max Enscoe. An ARC release.

Running time: 1:30

“Home” is a energetic, obvious animated comedy packed with the sort of low humor and silly laughs that drive very small children wild.
It’s a lesser Dreamworks work, in other words, no more ambitious than those later “Madagascar” movies. There’s not much here for anybody over the age of eight.
Jim Parsons voices Oh, a six-legged nuisance member of the Boov, an alien race that is “Best species ever…at running away.” They change planets at the first hint of danger. No stretch to think of the actor most famous for the robotic, socially-inept hermaphrodite on TV’s “The Big Bang Theory” as a socially inept, English-mangling alien.
“What for you did this?” And “You have in nick of time SAVED us!” That’s the sort of thing Oh says.
Captain Smek, a very funny Steve Martin, is the head coward, the one who drags the Boov to Earth, where they relocate all the humans to “Happy Humans Towns” in Australia, and take over.
But teen Tip (Rihanna) has hidden out. And when Oh ineptly sends an Evite to a party to the entire universe (thus giving away the Boov’s hideout to their enemies, the Gorg), he is on the lam from his own people. They need his password to stop the email from being delivered.
Tip (short for Gratuity, hmm) only wants to find her mom (Jennifer Lopez). Handily, she and mom croon a few tunes on the soundtrack while their characters seek each other out.
Toss in a few 3D sight gags — not enough to justify making this in 3D — the odd “lactose intolerant” flatulence joke, restroom humor (“a number one, a number two? Or a number three?”) and you’ve got a kids’ movie.
Not a great one. But the voice actors are engaging. Martin stretches out vowels and brings back the mock incredulity that was his comic trademark back when he did comedy albums, not movies.
“The Internet does not lie!”
But if you’re old enough to surf that Internet without adult supervision, “Home” is entirely too familiar, and too childish to visit.

MPAA Rating: PG for mild action and some rude humor

Cast: The voices of Jim Parsons, Rihanna, Steve Martin
Credits: Directed by Tim Johnson, written by Tom J. Astle and Matt Ember, based on a book by Adam Rex. A Dreamworks Animation/20th Century Fox release.

Running time: 1:34

The time-honored actor/actress tradition of “if Hollywood won’t hire me, I’ll make work for myself” is the origin story of “Apartment Troubles,” a nearly laughless comedy that doesn’t do its writer/director/stars any favors.
But cute character comics Jennifer Prediger (“Life of Crime”) and Jess Weixler (“The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby”) convinced Jeffrey Tambor, Will Forte and Megan Mullally to come on board their “Two Broke Eccentric Girls” farce, so that’s something.
Nicole (Weixler) is a wildly unstable artist who never sells anything, and Olivia (Prediger) is an actress who never acts.
The landlord of their slovenly-kept illegal sublet (Tambor) has had enough. When he ducks in to avail himself of their shower, he realizes their power has been turned off.
“We’re choosing to live without electricity!”
There’s no food?
“We’re on a CLEANSE right now!”
Since those are the film’s funniest lines, you can guess it’s all downhill from there. Absurdly unlikely events put these two paupers on a private jet from New York to L.A., into a car for a “lift” driven by a loony-perv played by Forte and into the home of a rich reality TV producer/aunt (Mullally).
A vapid, tired riff on LA via a dinner party — You’re an artist? What do you do? “I’m working with a lot of SAND right now.” — a broad and brief TV talent show goof, and they’re done. As are we. It’s over so quickly, yet the pity is it wasn’t more quickly.

MPAA Rating: unrated, adult subject matter, some profanity

Cast: Jennifer Prediger, Jess Weixler, Jeffrey Tambor, Will Forte, Megan Mullally
Credits: Written and directed by Jennifer Prediger, Jess Weixler. A Gravitas Ventures release.

Running time: 1:18

Budapest, Hungary, has a serious PR problem thanks to the movie “White God.” The film, a grimly dark satire, depicts a city of serious dog haters — from ordinary apartment tenants intolerant of canines, to the homeless who steal them, to the Gypsy underground which trains them to fight to the death and the ruthless legions of dog-catchers who swarm in on escaped animals.
Standing alone against this sea of Hungarian hound hate is Lili (Zsófia Psotta). She’s 13, her parents are divorced and her big mutt Hagen is her best friend. But when Lili is forced to stay with her bitter ex-professor dad, now reduced to being a meat inspector at a slaughterhouse, Hagen is not a part of the deal. Dad puts up with the dog only until a busybody neighbor lies to the authorities to get Dad (Sándor Zsótér) into trouble. Fed up with the dog and Lili’s growing defiance over it, he dumps Hagen in the street.
“White God” — the title seems to be a play on Sam Fuller’s “White Dog,” a film about a girl whose pet was raised to attack black people — is mostly about Lili’s efforts to find her beloved dog, the awful odyssey Hagen endures when he joins the ranks of Hungary’s strays, and the possibility of revenge when those strays escape. The film’s opening image is of Lili, a teenage “white god” at the head of a vast pack.
Co-writer/director Kornél Mundruczó allows for a little anthropomorphism when a Jack Russell terrier mutt takes Hagen under his wing and into a street pack. But when animal control swoops in on a SWAT-style raid to round up the strays, Hagen is on his own. Stolen, sold, brutalized, trained and injected, he becomes a dog fighter. And that’s not a pretty sight.
Meanwhile, Lili’s defiance has her quitting the youth orchestra where she plays trumpet, roaming the city on her bike, searching. A musical pun — Liszt’s “Hungarian Rhapsody” is a piece she’s learning, and also features in a Tom & Jerry cartoon that plays on a TV in the animal shelter, calming the dogs about to be euthanized.
A quote by the poet Rainer Maria Rilke opens “White God” — “Everything terrible is something that needs our love.” But that goes for the film, too. Who will want to see a movie so focused on dogs, in which they’re brutalized and killed?
Perhaps the satiric laughs came easier in Budapest, in the original Hungarian (with English subtitles).

MPAA Rating: unrated, with graphic violence, mostly involving dogs.

Cast: Zsófia Psotta, Sándor Zsótér, László Gálffi
Credits: Directed by Kornél Mundruczó, written by Kornél Mundruczó, Viktória Petrányi, Kata Wéber. A Magnolia release.

Running time: 2:01

In her native Denmark, director Susanne Bier makes intimate, emotional and even allegorical dramas such as “After the Wedding” and “In a Better World.”
In Hollywood, she’s a little lost, shoehorned into flat melodramas such as “Things We Lost in the Fire” and her latest, “Serena.” A period piece that offered most of those involved a chance to try something new on the screen, it just lies there, a blood-stained bore that never quite gives away a reason for it to exist.
Bradley Cooper plays a Depression Era timber baron racing to clear cut the mountains before the Feds turn the land into the Smoky Mountains National Park. He’s not subtle about his rapaciousness. By the time that park is announced, he declares, “There won’t be a tree standing.”
He’s almost as cavalier about his rural workforce. Pemberton Lumber is an accident-prone enterprise. His loyal aide, Buchanan (David Dencik) may forgive, his mysterious, superstitious hunting guide (Rhys Ifans, creepy) may understand. But the man’s mania for milking this land for all that it’s worth so that he can then head to Brazil where he can wipe out the rain forest is myopic.
Then Serena, a Westerner who grew up in timber wealth, crosses his field of view. Played by Jennifer Lawrence, she is a flinty, forest-wise woman who knows how to ride a horse and whose marriage will be more a partnership than a life of leisure.
“I can assure you, Mr. Buchanan, I didn’t come to the Carolinas to do needlepoint.”
She solves their rattlesnake bite problem (a tamed eagle, sent off to hunt them) and shares Pemberton’s life and business and bed.
But he earlier impregnated a hill woman, which complicates things. His accounting is suspect and there are bribes floating around to keep the Park Service at bay. Toby Jones plays the mistrusting local sheriff.
There’s just a hint of Appalachia today in the exteriors — the dead trees that pepper the slopes now, but not then. Much of this was shot in the Czech Republic, where a rough-hewn, newly-cut timber town is realized.
Cooper and Lawrence get to do things on horseback, swing an axe like they’ve done it before and play intimate scenes that they’ve never had the chance to show off on screen. They don’t create much heat. Neither has to do an accent here, only Ifans has to play a real man of the mountains.
But there’s not much to this, between the bloody lumbering and hunting “accidents,” no urgency or passion to the story or the performing of it.
Bier takes on this “mysterious world” as just that, but her alien’s eye-view offers no insights. And whatever Ron Rash’s novel had to offer, Bier has rendered it into something soapy, with everything compelling about it washed out.

MPAA Rating: R for some violence and sexuality

Cast: Jennifer Lawrence, Bradley Cooper, Rhys Ifans, Toby Jones
Credits: Directed by Susanne Bier, written by Christopher Kyle, based on the Ron Rash novel. A Magnolia release.

Running time: 1:49

Kevin Hart finds himself shoehorned into a Will Ferrell buddy comedy in “Get Hard,” a politically incorrect romp that only rarely romps.
It’s a “Trading Places” variation, with Ferrell as James, a top dollar fund manager busted by the Feds and set to go to prison. So he turns to someone for help in acquiring survival skills for “inside,” to “Get Hard” enough to not be killed. How’d he pick Darnell, the small businessman from South Central who runs an executive’s car wash service?
“I was being black,” Darnell (Hart) tells his wife (Edwina Findley Dickerson).
Ferrell and his team of writers play around with this familiar salt-and-pepper combo to expose the arrogant, prissy one percenter/Harvard Business School alum to African American culture and his prejudices about it. Hip hop, Lil Wayne wardrobe, trash talk and slang, James studies up. Not that he learns to see past his prejudices, any more than the film does.
The joke about Darnell is that he’s anything but “hard.” He’s a doting daddy with no police record,, But he takes a big chunk of cash from James to school him, converts the man’s Bel Air mansion into a version of San Quentin and fakes his way through how to eat, carry yourself, defend yourself and how to act in “The Yard.” That involves Hart imitating black thugs, Chicano prison gangsters and Yard queens.
Darnell takes a few tips from his genuinely hard Crenshaw cousin (T.I.), toys with James’ Afro-phobia and their shared homophobia in the training. “Get Hard” minces into places it shouldn’t in the process.
But that’s largely the point here — crossing lines no one else still crosses. Gay pick-up practice, gang initiation is spoofed (clumsily), a racist white gang mocked and confronted. Generally, this movie doesn’t so much invert stereotypes as embrace them. Very retro.
It’s hit or miss material, with Ferrell playing it stiff and goofy and Hart straight-jacketed into a character that is rarely top drawer Kevin Hart funny. One gag that works, the Hispanic servants at James’ mansion giddily get into playing fellow inmates who torment their insufferable, super rich boss. One “lights out” riot (strobed) is a hoot.
Craig T. Nelson is the too-obvious villain, but John Mayer scores as a self-aware/self-mocking version of his lady killer image.
Ferrell is as fearless as ever, stripping down and looking foolish, willing to be out-of-touch and out of step. Hart has his manic moments.
But in this buddy comedy, the buddies are not equal and that limits the laughs.

writer-turned-director Etan Cohen
MPAA Rating: R for pervasive crude and sexual content and language, some graphic nudity, and drug material

Cast: Will Ferrell, Kevin Hart,  Alison Brie, T.I., Craig T. Nelson
Credits: Directed by Etan Cohen, script by Jay Martel, Ian Roberts and Etan Cohen. A Warner Brothers release.

Running time: 1:40

British funnyman Simon Pegg brings a humorous edge to his dark turn as a private eye/hired killer in the Aussie thriller “Kill Me Three Times.”

It’s kind of a “Blood Simple” from Down Under, with a love triangle, crooked cop and murderer for hire all up in each other’s business.

So he’s got the M. Emmett Walsh role.

Pegg has another “Mission: Impossible” movie due out this summer, a third “Star Trek” on the way, lots of other work in the can. Busy lad.

I have some ideas about lines of questioning — the essentials in any hitman’s lifestyle — fu manchu mustache, 1960s Old Toronado — all black wardrobe. You know, stuff that lets him blend in on the edge of the Outback.

And zombie questions. Etc.

But you? Got a suggestion for something you’d like to know about Nick Frost’s friend? Comment below.