Movie Preview: Ben Kingsley makes a scary overture to “William Tell”

Switzerland’s mythic hero, subject of a Frederich Schiller play nobody produces and Rossini opera nobody presents and yet whose overture is one of the most famous warhorses (classics everybody knows) in classical music, gets another Swiss “Robin Hood” style film treatment (he’s been the subject of TV series as well), with Kingsley the villain and Claes Bang in the title role.

Golshifteh Farahani, Emily Beechum, Rafe Spall, Ellie Bamber and Jonathan Pryce also star.

Looks like the release date of this Swiss epic is early 2025.

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BOX OFFICE: “Venom” loses HALF of its fangs, “Here” is barely There, “Absolution” can’t pay for its sins

A steep drop-off for the final film of Tom Hardy’s “Venom” trilogy was always in order. These movies have sucked, and by the second weekend, the supply of filmgoers who might go plunges and “repeat business,” even for comic book fangirls and fanboys, was never a “Venom” thing.

Projections suggested a 60%+ plunge, maybe $19 million on its second weekend for “Venom: The Last Dance.” That’s what Deadline.com saws based on Thursday night and Friday’s take.

But Tom Harby & Co. pulled a surprise out of their hats, because whatever letdown opening weekend was (Low $50s, when it projected in mid-$60s), they managed a robust $26 million+, according to @thenumbers Sunday report.

“The Wild Robot” continues its steady march into the $120-140 million range, a good movie that should have opened bigger, but which is finding its family audience, one weekend at a time. Another $7.5 in the bank for that one.

“Smile 2” will clear the $50 million mark if it achieves the $6.8 million (@thenumbers) its projected to pull in this first weekend in November. It won’t match the all-in take that “Smile” managed, but $62-65 million should be in the bank when it leaves theaters for good.

November is traditionally the start of holiday blockbuster season, but “Red One,” “Gladiator” and “Wicked” are coming later, perhaps fearing “Venom” devouring all the screens. That’s a bad move, as this fall has been starved for big box office content. “Beetlejuice” is the one, true books-balancing smash that theater chains have needed.

The big opening this weekend isn’t by any stretch “big.” “Here” is a Miramax film that Sony is rolling out, a Bob Zemeckis gimmick movie where the hook is pairing up his “Forrest Gump” romantic leads, Tom Hanks and Robin Wright, and shaving 40-45 years off them as we follow their relationship — and several others — through time.

Paul Bettany and Kelly O’Reilly get a bit of digitizing, too, in this adaptation of a comic turned graphic novel about a piece of New Jersey, seen as T-Rexes stampede through it, Native Americans settle it, Ben Franklin’s estranged son builds a mansion on it and later, a house is built across the street and assorted couples make lives, make their fortunes, and bury members of their families there.

It’s sentimental, structurally misshapen, and unsatisfying. “Here” is also a bomb, falling short of the middling $7 million it was supposed to pull in. $5 million, Deadline says. I saw it in a nearly empty theater Thursday. That Boomer demographic it needs to succeed may turn up Sat and Sunday, but not bloody likely.

Reviews have been brutal. It’s maudlin and cloying and claustrophic (London soundstages and greenscreens) and it’s bad enough to remind the viewer that nearly every Zemeckis movie — even the good ones — have relied on some gadget, trick or stunt in the production. Sometimes they work. Sometimes performances transcend the trickery. And sometimes even that is illusory.

Seen “Forrest Gump” recently? Listen for what Zemeckis does with the “Original Hits, Original Stars” soundtrack. On-the-nose pop that bludgens the “point” of every scene until it bleeds. Once you start hearing or noticing lazy touches like that, you can’t unhear or unsee them.

Michelle Dockery stuck back in the 1910s again must have been a deflating offer of a role to play, but she did it. Zemeckis gave his daughter a plum part in it, too. Nepotism never helps.

Ralph Fiennes’ Papal politicking thriller “Conclave” is doing well, with a whiff of Awards Season cachet attached to its story of archbishops backbiting and intriguing to select a new pope. It’s on track to earn another $4 million and change and should clear $20 million by the end of next weekend. You need to see it. It’s one of the best pictures of the year.

I watched about 45 minutes of Sean Baker’s “Anora” before ducking into “Absolution.” All that sex and nudity was bound to keep selling tickets. It’ll pull in another $1.75 million this weekend, so I’ll have to sit down and watch all 2:20 of it, though I’m damned if I can see how they stretch that story out over that much running time.

Liam Neeson’s latest action pic could be his last go-round as that “Taken” era avenger. “Absolution,” released by Samuel Goldwyn, tries to be deeper, higher-minded, and fails. Pairing Liam and Ron Perlman was a good idea, but it’s gassed and Neeson’s beatdowns these days have the air of “Let the stuntman do it” because our 70something leading man isn’t as credible, or as capable, as any of us would be at that age. Maybe $1.1 million for that one.

It’s not cracking the top five (I saw it in an empty Thursday night theater).

The animated misfire “Hitpig!” is based on a Berkeley “Bloom County” Breathed book and script, featuring the voices of Jason Sudeikis and RuPaul and Rainn Wilson and Lily Singh won’t reach $1 million.

As always, I’ll update these figures as the weekend progresses and more data makes the picture clearer.

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N.C. Symphony concert night, because Cinephiles love Holst

There were only eight known planets in the solar system when Gustav Holst composed his orchestral suite, consisting of seven tone poems (leaving out Earth, and before Neil DeGrasse Tyson killed “Pluto”) in the middle of World War I.

This is one of the great “chestnuts” or “war horses” of classical music. Those are the “greatest hits” of this world, ones trotted out by orchestras far and wide when they’re in need of a crowd-pleaser.

Lucas lore has it that George L. used Gustav Holst’s “The Planets” as his temp score and “inspiration” in editing “Star Wars,” and that John Williams paid homage to the thundering themes of this towering work, as well as the music Erich Wolfgang Korngold composed for the Ronald Reagan melodrama “King’s Row” when Williams put together his score.

You can REALLY hear “Star Wars” aborning in the martial thumping of “Mars.” A great orchestra pins you in your seat when they perform it. But there are hints of Williams’ inspiration in several of the separate tone poems.

This damned good symphony orchestra will refresh one’s memories of these connections, I suspect.

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Avengers…ASSEMBLE! A reunion?

Sure. Well, it’s the actors who STARRED as “The Avengers.” They have a message for America, too.

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Netflixable? Troubled Swedish Family has to “Let Go” to break-up

Swedish actress, screenwriter and director Josephine Bornebusch conjures up a downbeat star vehicle for herself with “Let Go,” about a dysfunctional family’s trip to support their sixteen year-old in a pole-dancing competition.

Sweden, right?

There’s a catatonic grandfather to visit, a granny who figures gluten allergies are more proof that “these children are just plain spoilt,” a teen in open, foul-mouthed rebellion, a five-year-old who wears a masked costume everywhere because he’s indulged to the point where he’s out of control and a couples counselor husband who wants a divorce.

But before you get your hopes up, this mopey, morose melodrama chases away any notion that this will be a “Little Miss Sunshine” road comedy. There are no real laughs. And the few emotional moments contrived for the second and third act pack little punch. So all you’re really inclined to take away from it all is a short bout of the sads.

Stella (Bornebusch) is the machine that keeps the Holm family running. She gets everybody out the door, organizes the house, does the school pick-ups, supervises little boy Manne’s (Olle Tikkakoski) diet and indulges daughter Anna’s (Sigrid Johnson) pole dancing passion.

Husband Gustav (Pål Sverre Hagen) may give his best advice to his troubled-couples at work. But he’s completely checked-out of his own marriage. It’s not a shock to find out he’s cheating, but one can’t help but be appalled at how little he’s involved in his family.

For this effort, martyred Stella is cursed-out for the tenth time today when she challenges her daughter for forging her signature on a permission slip to complete in the big pole dancer contest in far-off Skåne. Her little boy adores over, but walks all over her, hogging every second’s attention.

It’s no wonder she wears the scowl of the relentlessly downtrodden. She doesn’t feel “seen.”

The last thing she wants to her from her above-it-all spouse is “I want to separate” (in Swedish, or dubbed into English). If she thought he wasn’t doing Jack around the house or with the family before, the future just darkened even further.

Nope. You’re not getting a divorce. Yes, we’re going to Skåne, and you’re coming along. That’s the “end of the discussion,” so Gustav can spare her the soothing, manipulative couples-counseler-speak and his talk of things she needs to “Let Go” of. They’re going.

And once there — Surprise! — they’re staying with his old-fashioned, estranged mother (Tone Danielsen) who is taking care of his post-stroke father.

Gustav is about to get a bellyful of “family.” But will Stella survive her own ultimatum?

Bornebusch the writer-director sets-up Gustav as the ultimate self-absorbed, distracted “villain” of the marriage, always on his phone with his mistress, but then takes some pains to explain his point of view.

The later act twists tend to over-reinforce the story arcs everyone is going through — Anna’s self-absorption tested by a flirtation with a straight-talking local boy (Leon Mentori), character “secrets” and the consequences of “losing” the out-of-control Manne one time too many.

Bornebusch goes heavy on the mother martyrdom, reaching for tears in the later scenes. One on or two of those scenes come close to delivering that “Where’s my hanky?” moment. And some of her “explaining” character motivations has the effect of softening the few emotional blows the story is meant to deliver.

It’s sober minded enough. Yet it’s all rather less satisfying than it might have been, and not all of that is due to our Swedish filmmaker and star’s reluctance to “Let Go” of judgement, Swedish parenting and “nobody’s really to blame” fence-sitting with her script.

But some of it is.

Rating: TV-MA, pole dancing, sex, lots of profanity

Cast: Josephine Bornebusch, Pål Sverre Hagen, Sigrid Johnson, Olle Tikkakoski,
Leon Mentori and Tone Danielsen

Credits: Scripted and directed by Josephine Bornebusch. A Netflix release.

Running time: 1:50

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Movie Preview: Reinventing the Haunted House Genre? “Presence”

The trailer is creepy enough, although the hyped quotes pushing this January release seem to be a collective over-reach.

But maybe it’s all that. Certainly looks a step or two above your average weekly and ever-so-generic horror offering.

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Movie Review: A “Gump” sized Gimmick in Search of a Movie — “Here”

“Here” is such an empty cinematic experience that it summons up everything you ever hated about a Robert Zemeckis movie and the Zemeckis “style.”

An Oscar winner with enduring classics scattered across his resume — “Cast Away,” “Back to the Future,” “Romancing the Stone,” “Flight” — Zemeckis has long been a filmmaker overly fond of the technical challenges and the tech “gimmick” he could lean on for a given film.

From back-engineering the characters and worlds of “Back to the Future” to the walking-dead-Meryl Streep of “Death Becomes Her,” to manipulating “Forrest Gump” into scenes with historic figures and just plain digitizing actors for “The Polar Express,” “A Christmas Carol” and “Beowulf,” he’s often lost track of the forest while figuring out how to fake the trees.

With “Here,” the technical challenge is taking a piece of land through time and showing people living, building and dying on it over the millennia.

There’s a whiff of Orson Welles’ adaptation of “The Magificent Ambersons” in this soap opera saga, the timeless appeal of nostalgia. But that gets lost in a narrative which deigns to go back so far as to show us New Jersey Jurassic pre-history, climaxing with a Native American couple (Joel Oulette, Dannie McCallum).

We glimpse the Colonial Era construction of a magnificent (Ambersons style) house owned by Benjamin Franklin’s estranged loyalist “bastard” son (Daniel Betts), see a newer house eventually built across the street from it, drop in on a dawn-of-the-“aeroplane” era couple (Michelle Dockery and Gwilym Lee) who move into it, and watch a succeeding pre-WWII pair (Ophelia Lovibond, David Fynn) who just know their fortunes will be made if they can just get SOMEbody to buy and manufacture the inventor-husband’s “Relixichair, RelaxiBoy, “Lazyboy” recliner.

There’s a modern day Black couple (Nikki Amuka-Bird, Nicholas Pinnock) who move in and who live there long enough to have to have “the talk” about what to do when a cop stops their son for “driving while Black.”

But the “story” is about one family, traced from the day a veteran (Paul Bettany) returns home from WWII to buy this house across from the William Franklin House with his wife (Kelly Reilly) and they raise kids, one of whom will grow up to be Tom Hanks who’ll marry Robin Wright, reuniting the iconic Baby Boomer couple from “Forrest Gump.”

We’ll see “Richard” and “Margaret” as lovestruck teens, thanks to the technological “de-aging” now available via CGI. To give Zemeckis his due, the effect is remarkable and the actors are good enough to make us quickly forget the special effect in their wrinkle-free scenes.

But is their story of youth and dreams and dreams abandoned and marital trials and parents aging and dying of even the slightest interest, even to Baby Boomers who have lived out those versions of “The American Dream?”

It makes absolute sense that Zemeckis shot this quintessentially America saga entirely on British soundstages — save for the sequences that are wholly digitized. “Sterile” describes the visual experience. And it’s easy to understand why there are no still shots from any other era or its characters depicted in the movie extant on the Internet, because Zemeckis & Co. paid that little attention to those “Here” and “back then” or “now” storylines and characters.

The Zemeckis trademarks of reaching for low-hanging fruit and leaping at the obvious — in casting, settings, messaging and music — pops up as we hear the pop tunes of each era wafting off the Victrola, the transistor radio or TV (The Beatles on “Ed Sullivan!” How original!).

How much imagination do you figure it took to put Michelle Dockery in the same era and wardrobe she wore for “Downton Abbey?”

As we watch digital zoom-ins on characters and scenic details from the various epochs digitally dissolve back and forth into different eras, we can’t help but notice the script is pretty much shapeless and the dialogue “graphic novel” banal. There’s not a quote-worthy line from it. If you’ve seen and heard the trailers, you’ve tasted the best on offer.

“You know, if you like, you could spend the rest of the night here.” “I could spend the rest of my LIFE here!”

Zemeckis turns his daughter into a nepo baby by casting Zsa Zsa Zemeckis as Margaret and Richard’s teen jamming to The Runaways (“Cherry Bomb”) and getting into “The Jane Fonda Workout.”

Still, there are moments that evoke Welles’ (gimmicky for its day) “Ambersons” nostalgia. But in chopping this story into the vignettes required to tell it, nothing really resonates, touches or for that matter, entertains.

It’s “Gump” rendered in the shallowest strokes, an “evocative” saga with all the depth of Billy Joel’s Boomer anthem, “We Didn’t Start the Fire.”

Zemeckis is always a filmmaker to show his peers “the future” by demonstrating a proof-of-concept of their medium’s latest effects and trickery. We all believe Deloreans can fly and that jetliners can be landed upside down and actors can play younger versions of themselves and need to ensure that their “likeness” is owned by themselves and their heirs, lest some Future Zemeckis digitally manipulate Hanks and Wright and Bettany into, say, porn.

But in a storytelling medium, story comes first. When Zemeckis swings and misses, it’s always because he’s lost focus on that forest in favor of the latest trick for digitizing the trees.

Rating: PG-13, sexual situations, smoking, alcohol abuse, profanity

Cast: Tom Hanks, Robin Wright, Michelle Dockery, Paul Bettany, Kelly Reilly, Nikki Amuka-Bird, Nicholas Pinnock, Joel Oulette, Dannie McCallum, Daniel Betts and Angus Wright

Credits: Directed by Robert Zemeckis, scripted by Eric Roth and Robert Zemeckis, based on a Robert McGuire graphic novel. A Sony Tristar release.

Running time: 1:44

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Movie Review: Liam in Winter — “Absolution”

Any grace notes 70something Liam Neeson brings to his aging and about to become infirm man of action in “Absolution” are pretty much overwhelmed by cliches, loose ends and overreaches in a sloppily pieced-together screenplay.

Character motivation and the hasty and incomplete “tidying up” of a messy life makes this Hans Petter Moland thriller go right off the rails and into the ravine in the slapdash third act. The director of the superb Norwegian vengeance tale “In Order of Disappearance” and its inferior Neeson remake (“Cold Pursuit”) lets his star down, as a promising start tumbles into an inept finish.

Neeson plays an unnamed collector and hunk of muscle for an underworld boss (Ron Perlman) who runs his seedy loan sharking and criminal transport enterprise out of a Boston mattress dealership.

Boss man pairs up the flip-phone-using, ’70 Chevelle SS driver with unfashionably long sideburns geezer with the boss’s Boston College grad son (Daniel Diemer) who wants to learn the family business rather than go to law school. The fake tough guy is supposed to learn from the real one, the fellow a Latin mobster (Javier Molina) nicknames” Jurassic Park”on sight. What our muscle finds himself doing is keeping the kid from messing up — fatally.

But the big man who still takes cash for sparring with up-and-coming boxers at his local gym is losing his memory. He keeps a tiny notebook to jot down simple things — the boss’s name — so that he can recall him.

His “of COURSE I remember” your name/that address/that my son died will be familiar to anyone who has dealt with someone slipping into dementia. We know the diagnosis before the corrupt Oxy peddling doc hints at it, and before the specialist confirms it.

“CTE, chronic traumatic encephalopathy.” Too many concussions — from his old man as a kid, from the ring and from the beatings he’s taken in his work and perhaps in prison — have doomed our unnamed big lug.

Just when he’s met a persistent sex worker (Yolanda Ross) newly smitten with him. Just as he’s ready to re-connect with his estranged daughter (Frankie Shaw). Ok, the diagnosis provides the impetus to the latter, but if he doesn’t tell her why he’s reaching out, will she accept his apologies?

The dialogue is mostly boiled-over “hardboiled,” such as when his grandson (Terrence Pulliam) gets “Sometimes, you have just got to walk away” advice from him.

“Mom said you were in prison. What for?”

Not walking away.”

Neeson’s at an age where the physical demands of the brawls his characters are meant to deliver  give us glimpses of stunt men pitching in. Not a lot of 72 year-olds could knock somebody out with a single blow, although I’d still hate to be on the business end of those Irish fists.

One can wish for as graceful an exit as possible from this post “Taken” revival section of his career. But even if he’s managed his to maintain his persona better than most of his action contemporaries, Neeson really does need to take a step back and question the credibility of playing brawlers as he enters the “fall and break a hip” years that face us all.

We’ll forgive a beloved action star many a sin, but there’s no “Absolution” for swinging your fists and dodging and absorbing blows past the point of credulity. It’s not just football players and boxers who get CTE, after all.

Rating: R, graphic violence, nudity, sexual content, smoking, drug and alcohol abuse

Cast: Liam Neeson, Yolanda Ross, Frankie Shaw, Javier Molina and Ron Perlman.

Credits: Directed by Hans Petter Moland, scripted by Tony Gayton. A Samuel Goldwyn release.

Running time: 1:52

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Movie Review: Church and Politics mix and mingle among the “Godless”

“Godless” is a self-serious drama about the collision of politics and faith with a couple of decent moments and solid lead performances by Ana Ortiz and Harry Lennix going for it.

Working against it are a static staginess in the action — lots of talk and debate, little of it setting off any sparks — a truncated dramatic arc, messiness in the order of events as they’re presented (basically its a long flashback) with an abrupt “atonement” and reconciliation attempt for its finale.

But again, there’s serious subject matter to wrestle with.

Writer (“The Brooklyn Banker”) turned first-time writer-director Michael Ricigliano drops into a world of heavy-handed Catholic politicking as an upstart bishop (Lennix, a big and small screen veteran and regular on “The Black List”) excommunicating a gay marriage-endorsing, abortion-protecting New York governor (Ortiz, of TV’s “Ugly Betty” and “Love, Victor”).

The bishop is new to Brooklyn, and while he sent a letter “warning” to the governor, his Latin, sealed-in-wax edict can’t be read by any non-Catholic living in America in 2024 as anything but religious minority election interference.

Thus our first impression of Bishop Rolland, clumsily avoiding press questions about if “the Vatican is on board with this” as he condemns a Latina Catholic governor who “ceased to live as a Catholic” when she signed off on legislation, is that he’s a fanatic somewhat out of his depth as a political showboater.

Then we get a load of the turmoil in the archioceses, with a bishop (Thomas G. Waites) and archbishop (Dan Grimaldi) weighing whether they have the leverage to make this pay off.

Because popular Gov. Porra seems destined for the White House. And they simple can’t have a pro choice Catholic living on Washington’s Pennsylvania Ave.

Gov. Porra is facing a primary challenge, with her top aide (Patrick Breen) all-in on her drawing a broad coalition and doing “the right thing.” He’s gay, and bringing him along for “negotiations” with the unelected church power elite gives him the film’s only funny line.

“I’m Jewish!”

“So was Jesus,” the governor notes.

“Look what happened to him.

There’s a squishiness to the point of view Ricigliano tries to impart here, a governor who says “I will not legislate my beliefs,” who says “contritition” is “not an option,” but who is conflicted about a bill the screenplay repeatedly refers to using right wing labeling — “late term abortion.”

The denial of Holy Communion to the governor by her parish priest is the jolt such political stunts are meant to deliver.

But a lot of counter-strategies are suggested by both sides, meeting in private, which are merely mentioned and not followed up on. An awful lot of the talk and scene-changing here seems pointless.

And then we get to the long third act meeting of reconciliation between the two, years later, introducing their “real” beliefs and guilty reasoning.

The leads in “Godless” dig into the “idea” for an interesting film. But this feels like the compromised, lost-its-nerve and too-short-to-score-points version.

Rating: R, profanity

Cast: Ana Ortiz, Harry Lennix, with Patrick Breen, Sarah Wharton, Dan Grimaldi and Thomas G. Waites.

Credits: Scripted and directed by Michael Ricigliano. A Without a Net release.

Running time: 1:26

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Movie Preview: J Lo and Bobby Cannavale raise a teen wrestler to be “Unstoppable”

Jharrel Jerome stars as Anthony Robles, an amateur wrestler who fought to fame despite being born with just one leg.

Don Cheadle, Mykelti Williamson and Michael Pena also star in this January release from Amazon/MGM.

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