Movie Review — “Glen Campbell: I’ll Be Me”

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“Cheerful” and “triumphant” aren’t words that come to mind when you think of Alzheimer’s, the debilitating illness that destroys memory, mind and body. But darned if country star Glen Campbell doesn’t manage that in “Glen Campbell: I’ll Be Me.”
It’s a moving documentary that follows him through the last halfway good year or so of his life. He was diagnosed in the spring of 2011. He hit the road later that year, a decision with the potential to tarnish his legacy.
When actor-turned-director James Keach film Campbell and his wife, Kim, on the sofa for a session of home movies viewing, he blurts out “Who IS that?” at every face that pops up.
“That’s you, honey.”
And what’re they’re doing with all these cameras?
“It’s a movie abut you.”
“No kidding!” he grins. Reflexively, a joke comes to mind. “I’ll be me!”
Keach sums up Campbell’s career through clips of his concerts, his old TV show and his guest shots on “The Tonight Show” and interviews scores of performers who put the 70something legend on a pedestal. He follows Campbell from his doctor’s office to the Mayo Clinic. And Keach captures a 100+ date farewell tour that was both a victory lap and an object lesson in the progression of Alzheimer’s.
Those performances — filled with happy accidents, meandering, complaining monologues and still-stunning musicianship, are where the “triumphant” kicks in. He may not be able to remember the names of his three good-looking, musically-adept kids, who play in his band. But for much of this 2011-2012 tour, Campbell was in tune and teleprompter sharp.
Even when that teleprompter tells him, “Glen play a long guitar solo here,” which he reads out, mid-song, he delivers. And tearing through an improvisation on electric or acoustic guitar or battling his banjo-playing daughter Ashley in “Dueling Banjos,” he reminds us that the one-time Beach Boy, one of Hollywood’s greatest session musicians, was a picker par excellence and still is.
His doctor says “the music is the last thing to go.” So even with all the off-camera obsessing over something stuck in his teeth, or names and faces that he’s forgotten, lyrics he cannot recall without prompting and mild tantrums over the memories he’s lost, the shows themselves come off.
Keach’s film relies most heavily on Kim, Campbell’s fourth and final wife, a stunning blond who is Campbell’s voice for the film, explaining the decision to let him tour, the various issues with his illness and its treatment, the symptoms we see onstage and off. The most touching moment comes when Ashley breaks down in tears, testifying with Dad before Congress, trying to get money for more Alzheimer’s research.
But Campbell himself is just inspiring. The public may have wearied of him 30 years ago, a hard-drinking womanizer who never measured up to the corny, wholesome “gee whiz “image, something the film barely mentions. But onstage, laughing at the miscues he doesn’t realize he’s made, losing track of what he’s supposed to be singing or doing, and then getting it back through his firmest memories — his songs — is amazing to see.
The tunes — “Gentle On My Mind,” “Rhinestone Cowboy,” “Try a Little Kindness” — hold up. And from Springsteen to Paisley, The Edge to Sheryl Crow, his peers sit in awe.
Keach wisely saves some surprises for us, ones beyond “The Last Show” and a trip to the studio to record “The Last Song.” Those come from the peers who reveal how their lives have also been touched by the disease.
And through it all, for as long as he can manage it, the Rhinestone Cowboy croons, picks and grins and works the audience, just an old pro putting on a show, the last memory he has to share with us.
3stars2
MPAA Rating: PG for thematic elements and brief language
Cast: Glen Campbell, Kim Campbell, Ashley Campbell, Bruce Springsteen, Brad Paisley, Steve Martin, Bill Clinton, Keith Urban
Credits: Directed by James Keach. A PCH Films release.
Running time: 1:44

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Movie Review: “Exists”

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2stars1It comes as no surprise that some of the folks who made “The Blair Witch Project”, the definitive “found footage” horror film, do a solid job with “Exists,” a found footage bigfoot thriller.
But in the decade and a half since the much-imitated “Blair Witch,” cellphone cameras and the nearly as ubiquitous GoPro sports video camera have made the idea of “finding” a movie in footage people have shot less far-fetched. A GoPro — attached to a helmet, a car windshield, a bike’s handlebars, set up as an impromptu security camera — is going to give you something that’s polished and yet realistic.
That’s why Brian (Chris Osborn) has packed a few GoPros for a trip to the wilds of East Texas. He’s the obligatory “video nerd” in a group of five college-age friends headed off to a “cabin in the woods.”
Like most horror movie victims, they’ve apparently never heard of the beach.
With Dora (Dora Madison Burge) and Brian’s brother Matt (Samuel Davis), and another couple, Todd (Roger Edwards) and Elizabeth (Denise Williamson), and their mountain bikes, stoner Brian hopes to make “the best Youtube video ever!”
Then they hit something with their truck in the dark. They don’t see anything, but they hear mournful, otherworldly yowls from the woods.
“It sounds like it’s crying.”
When they finally get to the cabin — “It’s like a love-making palace up in here!” — they won’t have time to christen this “palace.” They’ll be too busy barring the doors, covering the windows and cowering. Something’s out to get them.
“Blair Witch” co-director Eduardo Sanchez throws a lot of tricks at us to maintain the tension in a seriously recycled script. Writer Jamie Nash, a frequent Sanchez collaborator (“Seventh Moon” was their best) works in the occasional joke between the by-the-book shocks.
“Do you even KNOW how to use a gun?”
“I play PAINTball!”
Mostly, though, this is a subgenre genre piece, full of stock characters yelling “Don’t go OVER there” and other stock lines. People get scared, but not as freaked out as you’d think they’d be over the idea that bigfoot “Exists,” and that he or she wants revenge.
Convincing shaky cam or not, in the end all we’re left with is what we started with, just another bigfoot movie.

MPAA Rating: R for language throughout, some violence, sexual content and drug use
Cast: Dora Madison Burge, Denise Williamson, Samuel Davis, Roger Edwards, Chris Osborn
Credits: Directed by Eduardo Sanchez, written by Jamie Nash. A Lionsgate release.
Running time: 1:40

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Movie Review: “Force Majeure”

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3stars2Chilling, cruel and funny — in an icy, Swedish way — “Force Majeure” is a drama about a relationship challenged by an extreme “what would you do if” moment.
Ebba and Tomas, played by Lisa Loven Kongsli and Johannes Kuhnke, and their two small children are enjoying a nice holiday in the French Alps. The kids, being Swedish, are already skiers, though the youngest, Harry, is a bit of a ninny.
We watch them slip into their ski resort routine — up for breakfast, out on the slopes, kids asleep while the parents socialize later in the hot tub or the bar with Americans, Frenchmen and fellow Swedes.
Writer-director Ruben Östlund gives every ski lift ride an air of menace — mostly silent skiers, hanging from a chair in a wall of white. The steep mountainsides are packed with snow, and we and the family learn what those lovely but deadly flashes and booms rippling across the slopes at night are — avalanche prevention cannons.
It’s an austere winter wonderland and cinematographer Fredrik Wenzel makes it look picture postcard pretty. But as Östlund breaks the days down with inter-titles, “Ski Day 2,” and so on, we know something’s coming. All that foreboding and foreshadowing cannot be for nothing.
The “something” is a planned avalanche that hurtles down the slopes, mesmerizing everybody dining on the chilly outdoor patio looking up at the mountains. The wall of snow bears down on them and they freeze. And then it becomes obvious there’s been a miscalculation and the screams and scrambling skiers are covered in a cloud of white.
It’s not that anybody gets hurt, it’s how everyone reacts that is the crux of “Force Majeure.” We see Ebba turn a little cold to Tomas, who is either confused or sheepish. Tensions boil over when she calls him out in front of one and all for running for safety while she gathered up their kids to flee. Dinner dates turn sour. Drinks by the fireplace become accusatory.
Friends take sides and everybody starts to question “What would YOU do if that happened to us?”
“Force Majeure” is the French phrase from the world of insurance and investment means “greater force,” as in no one is responsible when a natural catastrophe or the like is involved in a loss. Is that a good enough excuse for Tomas, that all bets are off and it’s every man for himself when reflexes are involved? Ebba doesn’t think so and even Tomas seems unconvinced as he descends into guilt, grief and depression over failing a very basic manhood test.
But did he?
Östlund’s film wanders as it ponders this stress on a man and a marriage during a vacation that goes on and on, in spite of this alarming near-miss and what it suggests about the relationship.
Like witnesses to an avalanche, we are transfixed by the beauty, power and fury of nature. Like Tomas and Ebba and every other couple Ebba humiliates Tomas in front of, we wonder how we could react, not just to the fight-or-flight moment, but to a loved one’s reactions.
That lets “Force Majeure,” in Swedish, French and English with subtitles, become one of the cinema’s more revealing portraits of manhood and marriage and the slippery slope that a simple reflexive act can send them down.

MPAA Rating: R for some language and brief nudity
Cast: Johannes Kuhnke, Lisa Loven Kongsli, Clara Wettergren
Credits: Written and directed by Ruben Östlund . A Magnolia release.
Running time: 1:58

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Movie Review: “White Bird in a Blizzard”

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Shailene Woodley, a young actress so engagingly real on camera that she can do no wrong, gets a lot wrong and a bad film out of her system with “White Bird in a Blizzard,” an overwrought coming-of-age mystery drama that is an embarrassment for most everyone involved.
As Kat, the heroine of Laura Kasischke’s heavy-breathing YA novel, Woodley strips and seduces an older man (Thomas Jane), keeps a beau her own age (Shiloh Fernandez) around for the sex and narrates her life with a blase lack of interest that undercuts the mystery the story is built on.
“I was 17 when my mother disappeared.”
Woodley’s Kat is all “flesh and blood and raging hormones.” But director Gregg “Mysterious Skin” Araki turns ex-Bond babe Eva Green, into some sort of Bette Davis vamp as the hysterical-mercurial mother that Kat doesn’t miss.
Mom is unstable on a good day. She brazenly flirts with Kat’s next-door-neighbor teen sex buddy Phil (Fernandez) and shows nothing but contempt for Kat’s wimpy pushover of a father (Christopher Meloni). Their marriage is “a long drink of water from a frozen fountain.” Green’s every testy, furious, can’t-hide-my-accent scene is laugh-out-loud awful.
Then there’s the cop Kat and her Dad go to to see about tracking down Mom. Thomas Jane (“The Punisher”) as Det. Scieziesciez (!?), is an unkempt 40something who looks like 50 miles of rough road, which apparently catches Kat’s eye. Must. Have. Him.
Kat confesses all to her obligatory gay BFF (Mark Indelicato) and overweight African American BFF (Gabourey Sidibe). When she goes to see a shrink (Angela Bassett), her narration is an insult to both performances. She “reminds me of an actress playing a therapist.”
Seriously, is the Kasischke novel this bad? Or is that just Araki’s obsession with the lurid and the sexual?
Because we start to wonder what DID happen to that mom, tipped by Kat’s white-on-white inside-a-snow-globe nightmares. Not that the film frets over this as it jumps back and forth through time.
Whatever its intent, “White Bird in a Blizzard” misuses most everybody involved, especially the dazzling young star of “The Descendants,””The Fault in Our Stars” and “Divergent.” The laughs, intentional and otherwise, don’t disguise the feeling that we’re watching the big screen equivalent of a young star’s nude selfie stolen from her cell phone.

1half-starMPAA Rating: R for sexual content/nudity, language and some drug use
Cast: Shailene Woodley, Eva Green, Christopher Meloni, Thomas Jane, Shiloh Fernandez, Angela Bassett
Credits: Written and directed by Gregg Araki, based on the Laura Kasischke novel. A Magnolia release.
Running time: 1:36

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Box Office: “Fury” opens big, “Book of Life” solid, “Best of Me” is the End of Nicholas Sparks movies?

boxThe David Ayer/Brad Pitt/Shia/Michael Pena combat movie “Fury” is blowing away the competition this weekend at the box office.

Well, maybe that’s an overstatement. It’s not doing blockbuster numbers, or horror blockbuster numbers even. Based on late Thursday and all-day Friday, it’ll clear $25 million by midnight Sunday. “Gone Girl” did over $35 in opening, remember?

But that movie appealed to more than just guys.

“Gone Girl” is still #2, with the animated “Book of Life,” another very good toon opening to less than Dreamworks/Pixar/Disney numbers. Only the $teens. I hope Saturday does better for it. It’s lovely, original, a delight.

“The Best of Me” didn’t cost much, and it won’t earn a lot. Even by Nicholas Sparks adaptation standards, it’s an under-performer. Poor reviews won’t help it clear $12 million.

“Birdman,” perhaps the most critically acclaimed movie of the year, is earning some $90K per screen in limited release. Expect that one to roll out wider in the next few weeks and stick around until Oscar time.

“Dear White People” is riding swell reviews to second place in the per-screen average race. It looks to earn over $33,000 per screen in limited release. Bill Murray’s “St. Vincent” opens a little wider and is doing OK, not great, in limited release.

“Meet the Mormons” and “Addicted” and “Dracula Untold” have dropped after their opening weekends, and dropped far more than “The Judge,” which is holding audience well.

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Deconstructing “Fury,” or The Art of the Tank Combat movie

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David Ayer’s new combat film “Fury” is, as I said in my review, a very entertaining B-movie, an old-fashioned WWII actioner of the sort Hollywood used to crank out for the generations that could never seem to get enough of WWII.

It is not “Saving Private Ryan,” though it borrows plot tropes (“keep my men alive”) from that one. It is not “The Big Red One,” with, as my friend Matt Olien likes to say, Brad Pitt in the Lee Marvin (grizzled, gruff star a bit old for the Army) role, though again, lots of plot kernels seem to pop off from that one.

Fun movie, gory, with R-rated violence that seems suggestive of first-person shooter video games. It brought to mind my first-ever chat with Jeff Bridges. He was playing video games on the set of “Tron,” the original film, and his favorite was my favorite, a primitive first-person shooter tank game called “Battlezone.” . The game’s strategies revolved around how slow a tank or its turret turns. Could you get in position to kill the other tank before it gets into position to kill you? That comes into play in one scene in “Fury.”

War movie conventions are something that we and Hollywood just don’t have the handle on the way we used to. I, for instance, was puzzled by the turret, hull shape and profile of the tank named “Fury” in the movie. After digging around, I ID’d it as a Pershing, a late-war American tank introduced because the Sherman tanks commonly deployed by the U.S. were no match for most German tanks.

There are real Shermans in column with Fury in several scenes — shorter cannon, different turrets. They look like this.

ShermanKinda dinky, rounded edges, etc. The tank in the film the studio calls a Sherman M4A3E8 borrowed from a British Museum.

And even though I visited Danville Va.’s now-closed Tank Museum many times, I defer to their expertise. Still looks a lot more like a Pershing than  a Sherman to me.  I expect, any day now, to be deluged with vets or experts in militaria correcting me. But the WWII generation has mostly died off, and certainly don’t go to war movies any more. I know. I dragged scores of vets to see “Pearl Harbor,” “Flags of Our Fathers” and “Saving Private Ryan” with me for newspaper stories. Their ranks shrank remarkably by the time the Eastwood movie came around.

What about the movie’s military components? The horrors of war are immediate — bloody, brutal, personal combat that makes men so hate their foes that “No prisoners” becomes a grunt-level practice if not official policy. David Ayer gets that stuff right. I have no doubt Germans, especially S.S. troops, were executed in the field. “Fury” is set well after the Battle of the Bulge’s Malmedy Massacre, which, contrary to a blundering Bill O’Reilly tirade a few years back, was carried out by Germans against Americans, not the other way around.

But again, we’re all further removed from that war, so the history grows fuzzier.

Ayer’s crew contends with a mine, at one point. As anybody who has ever watched a WWII movie before can tell you, mines were and are typically laid in “fields,” as in “Where there’s one, there are others.” The crew of the Fury doesn’t seem to know that.

The finale of the film has come under criticism from many critics as laughably far-fetched, a battle against impossible odds.  Agreed. Until you read reports from the ISIS/ISIL combat zone, where armed villages and units of various flags complain they are overmatched because ISIS got its hands on tanks. The guys with the tank win. They’re hard beasts for infantry — lightly armed and ill-equipped (mentally, too, in terms of training) — to kill. Why wouldn’t a tank be able to fend off overwhelming numbers of infantry, at least for a while?

Even at its most militarily suspect, “Fury” never falls to the level of Spike Lee’s laughable “Miracle at St. Anna” or even Tarantino’s “Inglourious Basterds.”

B-movie that it is, “Fury” is the greatest American tank combat movie. I remember Sherman tank battle sequences in “The Battle of the Bulge,” starring Henry Fonda among others, that were pretty good. “The Beast,” about a Soviet tank crew, captured the claustrophobia and fearful limited field of view of such fighting machines.

But the Israeli film “Lebanon” (2009) is still the gold standard. It’s “Das Boot” in a tank, and worth renting if “Fury” has whetted your tanking appetite.

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Next Screening: Daniel Radcliffe grows a pair in “Horns”

Here’s an odd and interesting choice of roles for the onetime Harry Potter. Daniel Radcliffe plays a young man who grows a pair of horns as a consequence of being accused of killing his girlfriend (Juno Temple).

Comical Biblical good-evil allegory, a tale of the allure of evil, a funny gimmick? Hard to say. Heather Graham is in the cast, probably in a Heather Graham sort of role, with David Morse (father of the dead girl), Kathleen Quinlan and James Remar as the parents of Radcliffe’s increasingly horny character.

It opens in limited release Oct. 31.

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Critical Mass: Reviewers endorse “Birdman,” “Fury” and “Book of Life” — “Best of Me” is the worst

book1Monday, reviews were trending toward the ecstatic for “Fury”, the latest Brad Pitt WWII picture, and negative on “The Book of Life.”

But that balanced out, as it needed to. “Fury” is a B-movie, with a lulu of an odds against survival battle finale is hard to swallow. A good B-movie, but just a B-movie for the video game age. It’s sitting in the 75% range on Rottentomatoes.

Book of Life” is dazzling, and I am puzzled at the early poor reviews it was earning. Now it’s back into positive territory on Metacritic and Rottentomatoes, et al.

“Birdman” is a best picture Oscar contender. Everybody says so. Everybody. Who didn’t like it? Nobody to be taken seriously.

“The Best of Me” is more swill from Nicholas Sparks. I hate it when good actors sign onto his romance novel movies. They rarely save them. “The Notebook,” the exception that proves the rule. Terrible reviews for that one.

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Movie Review: “The Best of Me”

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For an hour or so, Michelle Monaghan and James Marsden gamely swim against the current, fighting the torpid tide of tripe that romance novelist Nicholas Sparks sends their way in his latest.
It’s sad to watch them strain and struggle and then give up as the lachrymose “The Best of Me” drowns them in a sea of saccharine.
It’s yet another doomed last chance love story set in the coastal South, star-crossed lovers “destined” to be together, but kept apart by tragedy. There’s barely a tear left in this limp weeper.
Dawson (Marsden) once loved Amanda (Monaghan). They were high school sweethearts — the pushy, spunky rich girl, the book-smart “white trash” bayou rat from a family of dentally deficient lowlifes.
But circumstances broke them apart, and when we meet him he’s on oil rig in the Gulf, a rig that has a blowout that hurls him into the sea. When he wakes up, he’s summoned to the reading of a will. She’s been summoned, too.
Can love’s flame rekindle after 20 years?
“Twenty-one, actually.”
Can she ignore the hurt he caused and leave the family she started? Can he come off as noble as he hopes against hope to bust up that family? What do you think?
Gerald McRaney plays a mildly-amusing old cuss who took Dawson in when he was a teen. It’s his will they read. Through flashbacks, the old man’s narration and heartfelt hand-written letters, we learn their past, as performed by Luke Bracey and Liana Liberato, who don’t look much at all like the adults they’re supposed to be and don’t heat this story up.

Best of Me (2014) Trailer (Screengrab)
Back then, she was all “You don’t know how to flirt, do ya?” And he was all “Destiny is a name the fortunate give to their fortunes.”
And his redneck daddy (Sean Bridgers) is all, “You think you’re too GOOD for this family?”
The boy studies physics, sitting on the catwalk of the rusty town water tower in their little Louisiana town. So yeah, he is.
Director Michael Hoffman (“One Fine Day”) was probably never up to the task of polishing this floater.
But the adults are interesting to watch, and Monaghan comes close to breaking our heart, once or twice — a little catch in her voice, a tear. At some point, the spark goes out of her performance and she joins Marsden as a sort of bystander in a movie their efforts alone won’t save.
There’s an artless obviousness to Sparks — the choice of tune they pick as “their song,” the tasteful PG-13 sex scenes, the righteous rural way of settling scores. None of which isn’t helped by the fact that “The Best of Me” is y just Sparks’ greatest hits, starting with “The Notebook,” a touch of “Dear John,” and running through every “not good enough for my daughter,” every tragic death, broken memory or noble sacrifice.
Which is why “The Best of Me” plays like the worst of Nicholas Sparks.
1half-star
MPAA Rating: PG-13 for sexuality, violence, some drug content and brief strong language.
Cast: Michelle Monaghan, James Marsden, Gerald McRaney, Luke Bracey, Liana Liberato, Sean Bridgers
Credits: Directed by Michael Hoffman, screenplay by J. Mills Goodloe, Will Fetters, based on a novel by Nicholas Sparks. A Relativity release.
Running time: 1:53

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Movie Review: “Fury”

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This bit of heroics isn’t “what I wanted to do,” Brad Pitt’s battle-scarred sergeant, and a hundred movie sergeants before him, growl. “But it’s what we’re doing.”
“Fury” is the sort of World War II movie Hollywood used to churn out four or five times a year — a gritty, grunt’s eye-view of combat. The grit is bloodier and R-rated now, as is the combat jargon. Firefights have a visceral, video-game immediacy. It’s still a B-movie.
But even a B-movie stuffed with cliches can be gripping. “Fury,” written and directed by David “Training Day” Ayer, takes us into the claustrophobic confines of a tank and makes a fine star vehicle for Pitt, if not the most original march down World War II lane.
The sergeant’s “war name” is Wardaddy, and we meet him as his battle weary crew delivers a dead comrade to base. In the last days of the war, Germany is lashing out with a suicidal fatalism — fanatical S.S.troops, old men, boys and girls are being sacrificed in one last Nazi blood purge.
“Fury,” the name of their tank, is sole survivor of their last mission. Now they’ve been given a replacement (Logan Lerman) and a new task. The opening credits remind us that U.S. armor was inferior to German tanks, so every mission could be their last.
But the cynical crew still mutters “Best job I ever had” when the going gets tough. Boyd (Shia Labeouf) is a drawling, Bible-quoting gunner. Grady (Jon Bernthal) is loader and mechanic, an ugly brute and bully. Gordo (Michael Pena) — nicknamed for the Spanish word for “fat” — is the driver. They proceed to haze and abuse the new guy (Logan Lerman), whose eight weeks of training were meant to make him an Army clerk. He is, as such characters always are in such films, idealistic.
“Ideals are peaceful,” the philosopher sergeant intones, with Pitt hitting the line as if it’s for posterity. “History is violent.”
In “Training Day/Saving Private Ryan” fashion, the new guy has to see the carnage — tanks churning corpses to goo, heads exploding and the occasional summary execution of the enemy. Wardaddy is a bit of a fanatic about killing S.S. fanatics.
“Fury” gives Pitt a story arc that makes him harder and more cruel than anybody in this crew, which he has kept alive since the North African campaign. But we get hints there are layers he’s hiding.
The cast around him plays mostly stock characters, but vivid ones. Bernthal stands out, and Jason Patric is good as the officer whose scars give him credibility as he sends Fury into harm’s way.
Ayer’s command of history is more solid than clumsier efforts like “Inglourious Basterds” or “U-571.” The tank appears to be a relatively rare Pershing. The utterly-spent combat reserve pool is straight out of WWII history. Guys went into combat and stayed to the finish. Green kids were all that was left for replacements.
A Tarantino touch? The crew forces itself on German women who feed them as Gordo recollects the horrors of the post-D-Day “Falaise Pocket,” when Germans and their pack animals were slaughtered in the hundreds of thousands.
Ayer hasn’t topped “Saving Private Ryan,” even though he recycles chunks of it. “Fury” is more like Sam Fuller’s personal war memoir, “The Big Red One” — straightforward, less poetic, an action film with a hint of humanity and history that is fast receding from view. It’s good, not great, and it’s not Ayer’s fault that the rarer these B-movies become, the more we expect from them.

3stars2

MPAA Rating: R for strong sequences of war violence, some grisly images, and language throughout
Cast: Brad Pitt, Logan Lerman, Shia LaBeouf, Michael Pena, Jon Bernthal
Credits: Written and directed by David Ayer. A Columbia release.
Running time: 2:14

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