Series Preview: Ricci and Catherine Zeta Jones figure in this latest “Addams” spinoff — “Wednesday”

Note the clever use of an orchestral version of the Stones’ “Paint it Black” as tasty subtext. Tim Burton has given Jenna Ortega a terrific star vehicle. Nov. 23, we find out if it paid off.

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Movie Review: Romeo may love Juliet, but he ditched “Rosaline” to get to her

That Romeo Montague is one fickle fop in “Rosaline,” a fanciful, lighthearted riff on The Girl He Left on that Other Balcony.

An adaptation of Rebecca Serle’s novel, it conjures up an unseen character from Shakespeare’s play, a girl young blood Romeo pined for until he spied the fair Rosaline’s fetching cousin. Serle gives us a plucky Rosaline, young woman with smarts and wits and agency, and makes her a comical wild card in that tale of “woe…of Juliet and her Romeo.”

Watchable, reasonably well-cast and handsomely mounted, the three letters that come to mind most often in describing “Rosaline” are “ish.”

It’s funny-ish. Charming-ish. Clever-ish. And it ends with a flourish that almost rectifies the shortcomings that precede it.

Kaitlyn Deaver of “Booksmart” is our title heroine, a spunky “modern” young woman chafing at the restraints and “arranged marriage” machinations of her Capulet padre (Bradley Whitford).

“I’m too YOUNG to get married!” “LOOK at you. You’re almost too OLD!”

And then she has to go and get herself swept off her feet by the smooth-talking swooner, Romeo (Kyle Allen).

“I swear at sight that I never saw true beauty until this night!”

She is smitten, but not without reservations. “Why are you TALKING like that?”

Yes, this is a smart-arsed YA take on this tale of woe, complete with smatterings of profanity (a couple of f-bombs included) and a recognition that The Bard of Avon created the theater’s first-ever gay BFFs. Here, it’s Paris (Spencer Stevenson), Rosaline’s confidante.

But her mentor is her nurse, given snide spark by Minnie Driver. Sure, believe “together forever.” But “Bloody hell, cover your TRACKS woman.”

A sailing date with Dad’s one suitable “arranged” suitor (Sean Teale) is where Rosaline’s designs on Romeo are derailed. Weather delays mean that it is Juliet — played by onetime “Dora the Explorer” Isabela Merced — whom Romeo spies and tumbles for, forgetting all thoughts of fair Rosaline. She even gets to hear him using the same lines he used on her.

The cad.

The fun stuff here is Serle and the filmmakers mashing up of the plays — a little “Taming of the Shrew,” a hint of “All’s Well that Ends Well.” I got a small kick out of Rosaline trying to break up the big Montague-Capulet swordfight on the square.

“You ALL have big swords. Why don’t you put’em back in your pants, now?”

The “cutesy” touches are reminiscent of “A Knight’s Tale,” throwing in modern profanity and setting this or that moment to Eric Carmen’s “All By Myself” or Natalie Cole’s “This Will Be (An Everlasting Love).”

You’d think with the director of “Yes, God, Yes” (Karen Maine) behind the camera, this comedy would take flight. Too much of what’s here stops just short of paying off with a big laugh. Blame the script or the tentative players (aside from Deaver, none of the younger cast members knows how to stick a punchline), but for all its intended charm and hilarity, “Rosaline” always settles for “ish.”

Rating: PG-13 for some suggestive material and brief strong language (f-bombs, etc).

Cast: Kaithlyn Deaver, Isabela Merced, Sean Teale, Kyle Allen, Bradley Whitford, Spencer Stevenson, Christopher MacDonald and Minnie Driver.

Credits: Directed by Karen Maine, scripted by Scott Neistadter and Michael H. Weber, cased on a novel by Rebecca Serle. A 20th Century film, a Hulu release.

Running time: 1:36

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Next screening? A child meets a racist end and America changes, thanks to Emmett “Till”

This opens Friday, and looks terribly moving.

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Movie Review: Mena Suvari and Horrific Fates Await “The Accursed

“The Accursed” is the kind of by-the-book demonic “curse” movie that you just know somebody’s going to have to consult a “book” at some point.

The cover is always leather. Or perhaps human skin? There’s always a pentagram on it, and sort of evil illuminated manuscript pages contained therein.

In this generic and generally uninteresting meander of a movie, the book only shows up late and plays no real role in the outcome. But as random as it begins and ends, as many peripheral characters get mixed-up in the messy goings-on, the book shows up because you’ve simply got to have one. Every hack horror screenwriter knows that, even if he has to grimace away the decision to name his movie the same as a film that came out just last year.

Let’s confuse horror consumers. Maybe that’ll help.

A mother (Alexis Knapp) and daughter (Kai Phillippe-Knapp) visit a “witch” in the land of live oaks bathed in Spanish moss.

“Don’t come inside until the screaming starts,” Mom orders. She may be requesting a curse cast upon some rival — “I want the Devil himself to take possession of her.!” — but we start to smell a trap. For the witch.

“Three months later” the new nurse and newly motherless Elly (Sarah Grey) takes a job as in home caregiver to an aged, catatonic crone (’70s and ’80s cinema and TV mainstay Meg Foster). The officious martinet doing the hiring (Mena Suvari) insists that Elly not leave the remote house while her charge is still breathing. Maybe that’ll be just for the weekend. But she gives Elly and the pal Beth who drops her off (Sarah Dumont) the “all kindsa wrong” creeps.

Something doesn’t add up. And it’s going to take Elly, Beth, the mother-and-daughter we met in the first scene, and that pentagrammed book to sort out.

We assume that’s how this will find its way to coherence, excitement, blood and revenge.

The effects — mainly a gnarled hand that crawls out of this or that mouth, a hand attached to something even bigger, and makes its way into another — are pretty good.

The cast isn’t bad, by B-movie horror standards.

But the confusing set-up, with a prologue that whatever the script back-engineers it to do seems unnecessary, hamper this and the frights and confrontations are rarely more than the mildest chills.

It’s hard to work up much enthusiasm for the second “Accursed” to come our way in less than a year, by-the-book or not.

Rating: unrated, bloody violence

Cast: Sarah Grey, Sarah Dumont, Alexis Knapp, Meg Foster and Mena Suvari

Credits: Directed by Kevin Lewis, scripted by Rob Kennedy. A Screen Media release.

Running time: 1:36

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BOX OFFICE: “Lyle” underwhelms, “Amsterdam” tanks, “Smile” grins out another win

Not an epic weekend for the first kids’ film since the over-performing “League of Super Pets,” which is destined to fall just shy of $100 million (under $94) thanks to having zero competition save for lingering “Minions” money for a month and a half.

Lyle Lyle Crocodile” is charming, earning just enough critical endorsements to entice parents but plainly not enough parents as it checked in with an $11.5 million opening

“Smile,” the seriously sinister but not nearly as scary as “Barbarian” horror tale that opened last weekend held onto audience share and interest and attention as it pulled in $17.6 million, a mere 22% drop off from its $22 million or so opening.

“Amsterdam” checked in with a $6.5 million opening, which means it’ll be the last time (after “Joy” preceded it) that we’ll see anybody give David O. Russell Margot Robbie and two Oscar winners money ($80 million budget? Really?) for an epic that isn’t quite.

Speaking of bombs, “Don’t Worry Darling” tailed off and fell well behind “The Woman King” on its second weekend of release, $3.475 second week that also saw it shed hundreds of screens.

“Woman King” has cleared the $53 million mark, with another $5 million+ weekend ($5.3).

“Avatar” has earned another $23.3 million, and counting, with its re-release, warming audiences up for the long-LONG awaited sequel.

“Bros” is disappearing faster than you can say “Has Lindsay Graham seen it yet?”

“Top Gun: Maverick” rejoined the top ten, edging “Bullet Train.”

Something called “Terrifier 2” ($825K) also sucked some of the horror BO away from “Barbarian,” which managed a mere $2.18, over $36 all-in and already way behind “Smile.”

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Movie Review: Bullied teen finds his purpose and his voice — “Rite of the Shaman”

“Rite of the Shaman” is a well-intentioned filmed homily about the righteous path for an aspiring holy man to take in his teens, when he’s still learning how to process grief, compartmentalize life’s many struggles and deal with bullies.

It’s entirely too touchy-feely and squishy to grapple its subject in a compelling and meaningful way.

The writing lacks subtlety, with the clumsiest “let’s jam all the backstory and exposition into this one monologue” I can remember. The acting is uneven — tepid to unpolished.

But as we see a kid who has stopped speaking after losing his father and shaman grandfather lash out — in his own way (Google reviews of businesses, online complaints about a teacher) — we’re shown the ripple effects of hurt, something this boy Kai (Tyrell Oberle) will learn from, change and make amends.

Kai is a soulful boy at one with nature, wandering the mountains near his Utah home, communing with the owl and connecting with the plants. He has a way with them, which the lady (Kim Stone) who runs the local nursery has picked up on. His enthusiasm for living things extends to biology class, where not speaking doesn’t keep him from being the star pupil.

But at home, Kai is coping with another impending loss. His mother (Janice Spencer-Wise) counsels and questions him from her sickbed. Is she going to die, too?

Flashbacks show us the lessons and simplistic meaning he should take from his mother’s Gaelic heritage and his father and grandfather’s Viking lineage. As this comes from his late shaman grandfather (James H. Martin), we assume Kai doesn’t need Ancestry.com to confirm this.

And as the boy was given the hippy, crystal-cleansing, sage-burning, spirit-animal-loving name of “Kai,” shaman does seem like a viable life path, ordained at birth or not.

Kai has a cute girl he swaps emails with at home and notes with at school. And as sick as his mother is, he still has time to wander the mountains.

But add bullying on top of everything he’s dealing with, and he just snaps. His silent lashing-out spreads all over his world. Can he center himself, see the damage and find a way to undo it?

The sometimes sappy dialogue — “I miss the sound of your voice, my son.” — an-inspiration-a-day advice dispensed from flashbacks and heavy-handed folk ballad/melodramatic strings score weigh on this otherwise feather-light movie and hamper any self-actualization messaging.

Yes, it slips into tie-dyed “insipid” and that gets in your head and permeates the film to such a degree that it infects the language you have to use to review it.

But the couple who directed and wrote the film (Alicia Oberle Farmer, John D. Farmer) as a star vehicle for I assume their son (Tyrell Oberle) at least deliver a sweet undertone that atones for some of these shortcomings, if not all of them.

Rating: unrated, PG-worthy

Cast: Tyrell Oberle, Janice Spencer-Wise, Lauren Holdt, James H. Martin and Kim Stone.

Credits: Directed by Alicia Oberle Farmer, scripted by Alicia Oberle Farmer and John D. Farmer. A Gravitas Ventures release.

Running time: 1:09

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Movie Preview: Netflix makes a comedy about the last video store in the chain that they killed — “Blockbuster”

How meta is that? Not “Facebook” Meta, but…meta.

Randall Park? Funny. JB Smoove? Funny.

The young and funny and cute surround them.

Nov. 3.

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Next screening? Shakespeare’s great romantic tragedy gets a Disney Rom Com treatment — “Rosaline”

Ok, it’s Disney owned Twentieth Century/Hulu project.

And there’s a hint of Netflix teen Rom com edge to it. Jokey, flippant, combining plays and eschewing the Bard’s poetry. Cute. With a gay BFF and an f bomb.

It premieres as a streaming event next week. Cute cast.

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Classic Film Review: A Canadian Gem from Kershner and Robert Shaw, “The Luck of Ginger Coffey” (1964)

Images that stick in the mind in “The Luck of Ginger Coffey,” an Irish immigrant’s tale set and shot in a wintry Montreal, often involve the snow, the icy streets.

Robert Shaw was not yet a big star. He’d played a blond Bond heavy in “From Russia With Love,” and worked in supporting roles in film and slightly bigger parts on British TV — often playing roles in large cast Shakespeare adaptations. “A Man for All Seasons,” “Battle of the Bulge,” “Battle of Britain” and “Jaws” were in the future.

And here was director Irvin Kershner, a TV and small feature film veteran years away from “The Eyes of Laura Mars” and “The Empire Strikes Back,” working on an indie dramedy north of the border and sending his British stage-trained star dashing in front of cars and in one scene, a city bus he plans to catch on slushy, icy streets which could easily have gotten Shaw killed.

Even with union drivers behind the wheel of assorted vehicles, virtually nothing on the road in 1964 would have stopped on ice in time to prevent Spielberg from having to find somebody else to embody Captain Quint ten years later.

“The Luck of Ginger Coffey” is a lighthearted, monochromatic tragedy with an Irish-Canadian lilt. It’s about a ne’er do well immigrant, an Irish Army veteran with no college degree, little command of French in the bi-lingual city and a grossly inflated idea of what he should be doing for a living.

“Public relations,” he figures. “Newspaper reporter,” maybe “sales.”

“A man of my type, you’ve got to have the right class of job.”

He’s out there looking, and dropping by the “YM” for a run, an exercise class and a swim. But what his wife Vera (Mary Ure) thinks he’s doing is buying tickets for a passage home. She and daughter Paulie (Libbie McLintock) have even started packing. Well, Vera is. Paulie kind of likes it here, snow and all.

Redheaded “Ginger” — his real name is so pedestrian he only uses the initials “J.K.” — is a hale fellow, well-met type, already with several friends in Montreal, an endless supply of leads for jobs and a ready reason for quitting every single one of them. He wants something with prestige and the promise of promotion.

“With a man my age, there’s no future to that” he tells the ever-patient employment counselor. He’s 39, and it seems the only actual career he has is lying to Vera, exaggerating his prospects, dodging the French-speaking landlord and taking every “might be something here” as a promise of employment.

When he finally tells Vera he didn’t buy the tickets because he’s tapped-out, her look is the picture of deflated despair, too crushed to be enraged. She’s ready to give up on Canada, and maybe ready to give up on Ginger. Their prospects, as immigrants and a couple, are dire.

But he and his mate Joe (Tom Harvey) bluff him into a gig with the Montreal Tribune, whose blustery editor (Liam Redmond, a hoot) admires the man’s “cheek” and puts him on the proofreading team. The only lies he can tell Vera about this good fortune are the nature of the job, and its pay.

At least he doesn’t have to accept the pitch from another pal, who figures Ginger’s “too stuck-up to get into a uniform and get a little dirt between your fingers” delivering diapers, and picking up bags of dirty ones. But we’ll see about that.

Irish-Canadian novelist Brian Moore adapted his own novel for this script, usually a bad move. But it makes for a spry and whimsical dash through the life of a rascal with the gift of the gab and a real talent for lying.

Kershner & Co. wanted Richard Harris for the title role, but when Harris took Peckinpah’s “Major Dundee” instead, they lucked into landing real-life husband and wife Shaw and Ure. They’d only been married a year or so when they made this, and they give their scenes a lovely, lived-in and earthy romance.

Vera is slow to figure out she’s being fooled and that doesn’t augur well for how fast she’ll forgive. The marriage is on the rocks before Ginger can conjure up convincing fibs or hype to put her off a tad longer.

A proofreading job — “But they’ll be promoting me to reporter!” — pays a pittance, not enough to keep them housed and fed in Montreal.

Shaw’s Ginger never lets us see desperation, but he is the picture of short-attention-span impatience, a guy whose “luck” seems to be making the worst decisions, thoughtlessly gambling on this or that “break” coming through, struggling to talk his way past a manager who wants a “JUNIOR” sales associate, not a fast-talking 39 year-old fantasist.

Kershner gives us a lovely portrait of early ’60s Montreal in his many establishing shots, and documents the world of two endangered industries — newspapering, and diaper services — in this intimate slice of life dramedy. But he takes care to keep the focus on his stars in big close-ups (a trademark) and immaculate compositions.

Little did anybody know how these various worlds were about to change back then. There’s a lot to love here, much of it unintentionally nostalgic as this “bad luck” story’s present day would soon be the cute and quaint Montreal of the past. Cinematographer Manny Winn was coming off her Eastmancolor epic “Tom Jones,” and paints her gritty Quebecois tableaux in shades of grade here.

Moore’s script and the casting of supporting roles — an Irish editor at the paper, French Canadian landlords and cops, beery “ink-stained wretches” on the almost all-male newspaper staff where everyone calls the boss “Hitler” behind his back — takes a delight in capturing that world.

“Ginger” and his grinning, blarney-accented bluster give us a little of the same hope Vera clings to whenever things start going Coffey’s way. And like her, we cringe a bit as we wait to see how Coffey will screw things up.

But not as much as we cringe every time we see nimble Robert Shaw just miss this taxi, that impatient Canadian motorist, truck or bus on footing that is never less than slippery, never more than an on-set accident waiting to happen, which thankfully it never had.

Rating: unrated, mild violence, alcohol abuse, public urination gag

Cast: Robert Shaw, Mary Ure, Liam Redmond, Tom Harvey, Leo Leydon and Libbie McLinktock.

Credits: Directed by Irvin Kershner, scripted by Brian Moore, based on his novel. A Continental Release streaming on Tubi, Amazon, etc.

Running time:

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Movie Preview: The trenches of World War I, recreated in Buffalo — “Bunker”

This cast isn’t household names, the behind the camera talented somewhat unheralded as well, and the look?

This can’t be the first time someone thought of Buffalo as *No man’s land.”

Sorry. Too easy.

Look for “Bunker” early next year.

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