Documentary Review: Teens ease the transition to adulthood via The Outdoors, Sled Dogs and “Folktales”

It’s billed as “the best years of your life,” the teenaged Romain complains in “Folktales,” the new documentary about teens, sled dogs and the wilderness “Folk” schools of Norway. Socially maladjusted, shy and withdrawn Romain has figured out that the teen years have been over-hyped and oversold by Western culture.

“Everyone wants to be teenagers except for teenagers!”

And if you’re not coping with and thriving in your teens, how’s that transition to “adulthood” supposed to work?

Norway’s thesis — the modern world is a fast-paced/knowledge-packed overload on human brains that haven’t changed since the hunter-gatherer era. Why not offer teens a gap-year school (the first ones opened in the 1840s) where they fill the gap getting in touch with the wild, their ability to cope with it and handle the sled dogs necessary to survive above the Arctic Circle?

It’s hard to overstate just how warm and affecting this film, by “Jesus Camp” and “The Boys of Baraka” filmmakers Heidi Ewing and Rachel Grady, turns out to be.

The kids aren’t so “troubled” with a capital “T” and this Pasvik Folk School on the Russian border that they attend isn’t Outward Bound. But take a bunch of willing students, socially awkward, sad or “lost,” make them care for, work with and bond with sled dogs with the edict “You are responsible for another living creature,” and keep the kids in the wild long enough and maybe they’ll “wake up your Stone Age brain” and grow up.

Hege is a clubbing but grieving city girl who lost her biker-father, but connects the idea of attending this school with outdoor experiences she experienced with her father.

Bjorn, a self-described “nerd” and “liar” (the film is mostly in English, with some Norwegian and Dutch with subtitles), frets over an inability to make friends and the lonely future that foretells.

And Romain is a Dutch Gen Z stereotype — disengaged, unwilling to even try to learn to build a fire, tentative about literally everything, even bonding with a dog.

That’s a social anxiety that this school can help him with, as dogs “unlock something inside a person,” one instructor observes. The dogs are “just a “method” of helping these teens “find a better version of yourself.” The idea is teach us “to be more human, maybe more patient.”

Nobody has to surrender their cell phone. But over the course of a school year that begins as the midnight sun summer ends, passes through “the long night” of winter and ends in spring, many will find the world they’re in a lot more interesting than anything digital at their fingertips.

Ewing and Grady don’t oversell the transformation these children — some of them plainly pretty privileged — go through. This isn’t a “scared straight” experience, rescuing kids “in the system” from a violent, disadvantaged future.

But watching unhappy, uncertain children grow in confidence as they learn, bond and then run loving, yipping, straining sled dogs is incredibly touching.

They camp out under the spectacular Northern Lights, cope with the consequences of not listening to their instructors about hats and gloves and setting up tents (snow will collapse one if you don’t do that right).

And then as Ewing and Brady pull back to show a parade of kids leading dog teams across the frozen forests of the north, one can’t help but be moved by the beauty of this wild and harsh place and the ingenius idea behind these schools and how much anyone could benefit from that experience.

Rating: unrated, some profanity

Credits: Directed by Heidi Ewing and Rachel Grady. A Magnolia release.

Running time: 1:46

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Netflixable? Sandler’s back in the Sandtrap — “Happy Gilmore 2”

Any hopes that Adam Sandler would use his Netflix contract to remake himself in movies like “Hustle” or “The Meyerowitz Stories”were dashed a couple of “Murder Mysteries” ago.

But he’s still doing numbers for the streamer, as his audience aged out of “going to the movies” long ago even if they never really outgrew him.

So why not a sequel to one of the movies that launched him, a title — like his “breakout” hit “Billy Madison” — that gave him the name of his production company, Happy Madison?

“Happy Gilmore 2” brings back his hockey-obsessed golfer who drives the ball with “rage,” which doesn’t really help him with his violence and anger management issues.

It’s a “gang’s all here” comedy that wallows in nostalgia for the original film, which came out 29 years ago. Sentimental curtain calls for performers from the original film who have since died — Carl Weathers and Bob Barker among them — clumsily blend with a parade of unfunny non-acting pro golfers, current and elder statesmen of the game, the usual crony cameos by the likes of Rob Schneider and Dan Patrick and sportscasters even older than Dan Patrick.

And then there’s all those Sandlers in the credits, his wife and kids failing to do much more than land a close-up or three in what plays like a “contractual obligation” outing from Team Sandman.

Of all the lazy, lame, vulgar and crude comedies this guy has churned out between more tolerable “Wedding Singer,” “50 First Dates” or even “Uncut Gems” pictures, this is right down there with “The Ridiculous 6” as among his laziest.

You barely have time to mutter “I wonder how they changed/killed-off the wife” from the first film as the opening credits play — a common failing of fragile ego leading men sequels — before Virginia (Julie Bowen) meets her demise.

To be fair, she still gets lots of screen time in flashbacks and fantasy sequences. Not as much as infamously undisciplined ex-golfer John Daly, who lives in Happy’s garage and joins him in his binge drinking.

Happy killed his wife with an errant tee shot, crawled into the bottle and lost everything. He now supports his four rowdy Boston Bruins-obsessed sons and aspiring ballerina daughter by stocking the produce section of his local market.

A running gag in the picture — Happy’s many “hide my drinking” flasks are concealed in everything from a fake cell phone to a cucumber, golf clubs and even a golf ball.

But he’s not picked up a club in over a decade when is forced back into the game — at 58 (Sandler’s real age) — to raise money for daughter Vienna’s (Sunny Sandler) prospective enrollment in a Paris Opera ballet school.

Sandler’s “Uncut Gems” writer and director Benny Safdie proves he has no gift for comedy playing Frank Manatee, a billionaire starting his own Happy Gilmore-inspired gonzo golf league, who tries to lure Happy out of his miserable “retirement” from the game.

Happy has to hit rock bottom — going to rehab sessions led by Ben Stiller‘s character from the first film — before he realizes his only hope of getting out of the financial hole is a comeback.

“At 58?”

A few awful, tipsy rounds and breaking a few driving range simulators later, he magically manages it. He’s back mingling with aged pros (Nicklaus, Trevino, etc), tactless TV interviewers (Kevin Nealon) and renewing old rivalries.

But where’s his nemesis, Shooter? The “third biggest golfer of the ’90s” (after Happy and “Tiger”)? He (Christopher McDonald) lost his marbles when he lost that gold jacket title to Happy back in ’96. It takes the intervention of golf-disrespecting Mr. Manatee to get Shooter out of a mental institution and back in Happy’s face.

The one moment that this movie came to life for me is when Sandler and McDonald renew their rivalry in a funny fistfight in a cemetery filled with graves of characters (and actors) who died after the first film came out.

Sandler’s one funny line comes when Happy has to half-hearted break-up a hockey brawl amongst his kids at the dinner table.

“Hey hey HEY! We fight in the BASEMENT, not at the table!”

The rest of the film is lame, recycled and unfunny jokes, penis and potty gags, uncommitted performances (Stiller and McDonald give it their all) and appearances by jocks, the descendents of dead actors and Sandler family (and a Stiller offspring, and another McDonald one) members.

It’s a film of “Look, it’s Dennis Dugan (as the “real” golf tour’s chairman),” who directed so many Sandler hits early in his career, or picking out which old golfer is which, trying to ID who this rapper or footballer is orwho that Sandler entourage member/hanger-on (Nick Swardson, etc.) might be.

Nostalgia only gets you so far, and whatever “feels” folks cling to from the original “upset the uptight golf world” original, it’s not enough to float this bloated corpse of a comedy.

Golf isn’t what it was back then, and neither are Happy or Sandler. So no “mulligans” for “Happy Gilmore 2.” A quintuple bogey or Archaeopteryx, a hole-by-hole disaster is still a disaster — in the trap, in the water, very late to the green and tucked onto Netflix where you can ignore it and find something better to watch.

Rating: PG-13, bits of violence, lots of profanity, potty jokes and mooning gags

Cast: Adam Sandler, Julie Bowen, Christopher McDonald, Bennie Safdie, John Daly, Bad Bunny, Haley Joel Osment, several Sandler relatives, Steve Buscemi and Ben Stiller

Credits: Directed by Kyle Newachek, scripted by Tim Herlihy and Adam Sandler. A Netflix release.

Running time:

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BOX OFFICE: “Fantastic Four” has a Fantastic opening — $118 million

No doubt about it, comic book film fans are rooting for Marvel to finally deliver a “Fantastic Four” worth celebrating.

A more innocent, optimistic and juvenile franchise that has proven hard to start, restart and reboot, the thinking this time was to take it back to its ’60s origins/heyday and spend the money ($200 million?) on production design and effects and see what happened.

Pedro Pascal and Vanessa Kirby are the “names” in the cast, and they can’t open a picture on “name” alone.

A $24 million+ opening night Thursday folds in to a beefy Friday to give “F4” a $56 million start to the weekend. The Numbers reports that the big start faded from earlier projections of a $125 million opening weekend, right in that “Superman” sweet spot. $118 million is the tentative tally now.

Reviews were hardly over-the-moon, and audience polling is in the 70% recommend range (not dazzling). I found it gorgeous but joyless, not entirely plotless but the narrative was more “We can do this…together” messaging than anything clever, witty or touching.

Marvel won’t be losing money on this one, as it’s opening big abroad as well — a $27 million take overseas, says Deadline.

These movies are formulaic juvenalia, more productions of “content” than movies, which is the reason you almost never see big names/big talents behind the camera directing them the way you did for a few Harry Potter pictures. Matt Shakman’s a TV director with “Wandavision” and lots and lots of “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia” credits. Not exactly “Move over, Scorsese.” Or Joss Whedon. Or Sam Raimi.

Just hiring somebody who can be on set for the actors while the producers/production call the shots and keep the pricey train running on time is no way to make something extraordinary.

Sucking all the oxygen out of the superhero cinema audience should mean that “Superman” will lose more than half of last weekend’s take and deliver another $24..86 million by midnight Sunday.

July 2 opener “Jurassic World: Rebirth” is on track for a $13 million weekend, and should and clear the $300 million mark as it exits July. “Superman” will soar past that same mark by next weekend.

“F1” is outperforming last weekend’s duds with a $6.2 million tally, good enough for fourth place.

Shame of shames, Paramount’s half-hearted “Smurfs” is besting “I Know What You Did Last Summer,” by $5.4 million to $5.1 million, putting the beaten-to-death kiddie cartoon in the Top Five one last weekend.

Both opened weak and are fading fast.

Seventh place goes to the “How to Train Your Dragon” remake ($2.8), eighth to an Indian film opening in relatively wide release — “Saiyaara” ( $1.4).

“Eddington” opened poorly and is already shedding screens, managing just $1.664 on its second weekend and last one in the top ten. It’s clinging to ninth place.

Among the weekend’s other wide-ish openings, the twisted “romance” “Oh, Hi!” (Really, Sony Pictures “Classics?”), will crack the top ten with around $1.1 million.

The documentary “Folktales,” a Pete Davidson horror (Comedy?) “The Home,” the bloody/land-stealing/founding-of-Israel drama “Shoshana” and the Italian coming-of-age drama “Diciannove” don’t figure to make as much noise as A24’s counter-programming bomb “Eddington” did last weekend.

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Movie Preview: Something to see in a cinema this weekend? The second trailer to the all-star “One Battle After Another”

Leo and Benicio, Sean and Wood Harris, Teyana Taylor and Regina Hall, ex-revolutionaries, a little longer in the tooth, reunite to fight an evil old foe.

And Alana Haim is here to remind us that sometimes Paul Thomas Anderson isn’t letting go of “Licorice Pizza” or his elementary school art teacher, whose daughter is the singer and sometime actor Haim.

Sept. 26.

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Movie Review: For these Gen Z daters, it’s all downhill from “Oh, Hi!”

The mating rituals, commitment phobia and communication issues of a much-maligned generation are sent up, with amusingly mixed results, in “Oh, Hi!” — a rom-com that almost goes for it and almost comes off before losing its nerve.

Writer-director Sophie Brooks pairs-up former child star Logan Lerman (“Percy Jackson,” “Fury,” TV’s “We Were the Lucky Ones”) and nepo baby Molly Gordon, who gets a story credit and moves from small supporting roles in “Shiva Baby,” “Booksmart” and TV’s “Animal Kingdom” into the spotlight as a young woman who misreads the signals from her new beau and doesn’t take that well. At all.

And frankly, you can see Iris’s point. She’s loaded up her vintage Jeep Cherokee for a fun weekend in the country, and Isaac seems totally present for the bubbly cute chatterbox who is his companion. Just two young New Yorkers having a sing-along to “Islands in the Stream” on the ride, basking in the upstate scenery, gawking at the over-equipped secluded AirBnB they’ve rented and get right down to sex before a single awkward silence can enter in the conversation.

We figure out it’s “early” in this “relationship.” He’s reading “Blindness” by Jose Camargo and she’s “not really a reader. I’m more of a movie lady.” But she probably didn’t see the film adaptation of that novel, either. “Casablanca” is more her speed.

They share their first impressions of each other — “I thought you were a f—boy.”And they exchange answers on “Have you ever had your heart broken?”

Isaac seems genuinely interested, cooking scallops for her before the evening’s second round of passion. She’s busted into the owners’ S&M stash because “Locked doors give me anxiety.” That may be the most Gen Z line in this.

So, who gets to tie up whom? Isaac agrees, and the novelty of the experience lifts their lovemaking. But his warning might have been the “ever had your heart broken” question and her answer to it. She has and didn’t take it well. “Insane urge to stab” comes up.

Handsome, politically connected Isaac is downright cavalier in dismissing the idea he might have had his “heart broken.” Bluntly contradicting Iris when she starts talking about how well things are going after three dates and “our first trip as a couple” seals his fate.

“I’m not really looking for a relationship right now.”

Those wrist cuffs and ankle cuffs he’s in? They’re not coming off. And as the story is framed within Iris’s call to her ride-or-die Max (Geraldine Viswanathan of “You’re Cordially Invited,” “Thunderbolts*” and “Seven Days”) — “I did a thing…I did something bad.” — we expect the worst.

As Iris decides to hold him captive to try and convince Isaac of their potential, the worst is worse than we fear.

“Oh my God, does he not like FRENCH toast?”

Brooks’ second feature (after “The Boy Downstairs”) doesn’t so much lose its edge as simply give it away. And as it does, the fun and the life sputter out of what might have been a skewering comedy.

Isaac comes off as a barely-sketched-in heel, topping off that with a cluelessness about the fairer sex and human emotions. His inability to “read the room” where Iris is concerned is worsened by insisting he’s just being “honest.” He finishes that off with the occasional “Gen Z Stare”at her reactions.

A generation that gets a bad rap for being fragile and easily hurt and rude by not considering other people’s feelings is sent up in this one character.

But Iris makes a call to her mother (Polly Draper of “thirtysomething”) about her disappointment and Boomer Mom’s advice is every bit as cliched and tone deaf as Isaac’s.

“Sometimes men don’t know what’s best for him.”

John Reynolds scores a chuckle or two as Max’s along-for-the-ride boyfriend, here to advise Iris about the legal problems tying someone up can put you in. And David Cross is the cranky “You kids can’t have sex there” neighbor with virtually nothing funny to do or play.

But the promise in this premise is Gordon’s Iris, a hapless young woman who feels victimized by everything men of her generation’s dating pool fear or simply have no interest in. Gordon made me think of her “Shiva Baby” co-star Rachel Sennott in Iris’s had-enough-attitude, pushing 30 and ready for a relationship, but just now figuring out that Peter Pan Syndrome isn’t just about the prankster, but about the Lost Boys women are waiting to grow up into men you might marry.

Brooks lets her character and her star down by backing away from that edge and going all softboy, like the guy her leading man is playing, as she does.

Rating: R, sex, nudity and profanity

Cast: Molly Gordon, Logan Lerman,
Geraldine Viswanathan, John Reynolds, Polly Draper and David Cross.

Credits: Scripted and directed by Sophie Brooks. A Sony Pictures Classics release.

Running time: 1:34

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Movie Review: This “Fantastic Four” take their stumbling, humorless “First Steps”

Comic book cinema goes Mid Century Marvel for “The Fantastic Four: First Steps,” a sleek and gorgeous looking reboot of this franchise that harks back to Fantastic 4 comic and TV cartoon’s heyday.

The film’s true star is production designer Kasra Farahani, who brings the ’60s back to life — on Earth 828 in the multiverse — with sweater vests, bouffants, crew cuts, ties, Homberg hats and jumpsuit fashions, minimalist plastic chairs, Edsels and their tail-finned ilk, all supplemented by the futuristic blessings of what four superhumans and their ability to broker world peace and cooperation might bring.

Yeah, somes cars fly. Mostly cop-cars, but hey…

These kid-friendliest comics tend to park any film attempt at relaunching Fantastic Four in the more juvenile PG/PG-13 realm — “entry level” comic book films for younger viewers. The more comedy the better, with jovial tough-guy banter from Ben Grimm/The Thing, punk put-downs by Johnny Storm the Human Torch and dorky supportive couplespeak from the married Mister Fantastic Reed Richards and his vanishing “Invisible Woman” wife Sue Storm.

But four credited screenwriters couldn’t find a joke if Jerry Seinfeld texted it to them. And our years of blaming the casts for the failure of these films should probably stop, as Pedro Pascal (Mister Fantastic has never been duller and Vanessa Kirby (Sue Storm) never manages more than a moment or two of spark or empathy. They deserved better.

Joseph Quinn has too little that’s fun to say or do as Johnny Storm, and Ebon Moss-Bachrach simply doesn’t register and seems utterly, humorlessly miscast as The Thing.

“Hey, say the thing,” “many ask, some of them joking. You know. The catchphrase. “‘What time is it?'”

“Stop it,” Ben says.

“It’s CLOBBERIN’ time,” you mean? “It’s just in the cartoon,” Ben grimly, bloodlessly reminds us.

Four years of a nation and a world with The Fantastic Four in it have earned them their very own ABC (in Living Color) TV special and appreciation as “the best of us,” us being the human race and Americans boldly embracing the future.

Reed and Sue discover they’re pregnant.

“Nothing’s going to be different.” “EVERYthing’s going to be different!”

Johnny and Ben are happy roommates in a spacious mid century modern penthouse.

And then this “herald” shows up, a Silver Surfer (Julia Garner, not-quite-recognizable in her CGI guise) to warn them that “The Devourer of Worlds,” “Galactus” is on his/its way as “Your planet is now scheduled for destruction.”

Make your peace with it, don’t fight it, you’re done for yadda yadda.

The Four must board the Good Ship Excelsior, find this Gallactus and, you know, “talk.”

We all know what that will mean. And four credited screenwriters know we know. So they barely put any effort into setting up the Big Confrontation, sleepwalking through the opening acts, perfunctorily cutting-and-pasting the suspense free middle act “build up.”

Plot elements, sci-fi inventions and set-pieces are borrowed from “Star Trek,” “Star Wars” and “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.”

While there’s nothing inherently wrong with that, what we see on the screen is gloriously over-designed joylessness. This script had possibilities, and this far less “fantastic” four at the keyboards couldn’t see them or find the fun in this world, these characters or “Clobberin’ time,” when it finally arrives.

The only appropriate response is to throw up one’s hands at Marvel’s inability to get this cornerstone franchise right, with or without the kiddie pool touches.

Rating: PG-13, sci-fi action/violence, mild profanity

Cast: Pedro Pascal, Vanessa Kirby, Ebon Moss-Bachrach, Joseph Quinn, Paul Walter Hauser, Natasha Lyonne, Julia Garner and Ralph Ineson.

Credits: Directed by Matt Shakman, scripted by Josh Friedman, Eric Pearson, Jeff Kaplan and Ian Springer, based on the Jack Kirby/Stan Lee comics. A Marvel Studios release.

Running time: 1:55

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It’s Sushi and Cinema Thursday –“Fantastic Four” and “Oh, Hi!” Time

Half price sushi day at Pangea, our favorite sushi joint in the big city (Danville, VA.)  chased by a double feature.

Because we all need to escape the heat for a day. And the news.

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Documentary Review: “It’s Never Over, Jeff Buckley”


Filmed appreciations of potentially great artists who “die young and leave a beautiful corpse” are many. If these post mortems have a common thread, it’s the difficulty in separating the myth from the musician, painter, actor or writer. And the more “beautiful” the corpse, the greater the hype and the harder that becomes.

Amy Berg’s “It’s Never Over, Jeff Buckley” is about the James Dean-gorgeous singer-songwriter Jeff Buckley. An almost uncategorizable guitarist and singer with a piercing falsetto and four-octave range who could rock out to Led Zeppelin and cover Nirvana and yet let us hear his adoration of Judy Garland, Nina Simone and the singular Pakistani singer Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, Buckley sang and wrote insightful, soulful and self-revealing folk-rock ballads.

His story is marked by brief triumph and lingering tragedy. Buckley only finished one critically-acclaimed album, with “Grace” worshipped by everyone from David Bowie to Alanis Morissette. He’s best-known for his cover of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah,” which topped the charts over a decade after his death, at 31 in 1997.

And he’s famous for being the son of another acclaimed singer-songwriter who died very young, Tim Buckley, a man he only met once and someone Jeff spent his career trying to separate himself from in interviews, many of which are sampled here.

Berg, the Oscar-nominated director of the “West of Memphis” doc about the West Memphis Three, with a Janis Joplin documentary and a damning Mormon church takedown among her credits, puts a lot of Buckley’s story in his own words, leaning most heavily on his mother, girlfriends and bandmates to flesh out his story.

You have to read a Buckley bio or his Wikipedia page to realize how disingenuous his “don’t call me Tim Buckley’s kid” and “next question” stance regarding his famous father. Buckley was raised “Scottie Moorhead,” taking his stepdad’s name.

He chose to become “Jeff Buckley.” And his big break was performing at a 1991 tribute concert for his father, the son weeping as he sang a song his father wrote about him and the mother (he married Mary Guibert when they were teens) that Tim Buckley abandoned when she got pregnant.

Jeff signed to Columbia Records, “Dylan’s label,” and Springsteen’s. He was yet another singer-songwriter given that “next Bob Dylan” hype.

Berg had not only a potential chip-off-the-old-icon star-in-the-making figure to profile. She had a “complicated” character to try and unravel, a poetic young man who fell for theater actress Rebecca Moore, moved on from her to pursue singer/songwriter Aimee Mann, among others, before falling for fellow musician Joan Wasser.

“It’s Never Over,” a play on the title of his song “I Know It’s Over,” hews to Buckley’s stated wish to interviewers for people to get past his lineage and his looks and appreciate “my music.” Much of Buckley’s musical output is sampled in performance and in recordings as we see pages from his notebooks — often rendered into graphics — illustrating the tune and underscoring the careworn crafted lyrics.

“There’s the moon asking to stay
Long enough for the clouds to fly me away
Oh, it’s my time coming,
I’m not afraid
Afraid to die…”

When you write songs like “Grace” with lines about your mortality, and then you die by drowning during an impulsive plunge into a Memphis river while singing Led Zeppelin (“Whole Lotta Love”), when your androgynous beauty beguiles girlfriends, fans and record execs alike, and your dad died young too, it’s no wonder that Buckley “lore” overwhelms any attempt to size up the talent and space occupied in the culture by someone like Jeff Buckley.

The archival interviews with Jeff reveal some, but not all. Berg’s film gets intimate when it lets us hear loving or even testy phone messages left for his mother and amusing when we learn of the comical old fashioned radio drama he created for his outgoing answering machine message.

And it gives Buckley fans lots of the music and some of the details and color of the life that Buckley lived. Will it create new fans? Buckley’s fame and reputation only truly exploded after his death and after post mortem hype by Rolling Stone and others. He could be due to a new cycle of interest and famous musician endorsements.

Or maybe his reputation will settle in exactly the same spot his father’s did — lauded after a premature death, his voice, looks and reputation forever preserved at that moment in time, a great “might have been” worshipped for what never quite was.

Rating: unrated, adult subject matter

Cast: Jeff Buckley, Mary Guibert, Rebecca Moore, Michael Tighe, Joan Wasser and Ben Harper

Credits: Directed by Amy Berg. An HBO Films production, a Magnolia release.

Running time: 1:46

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Movie Preview: Old Man Pierce Brosnan teaches an immigrant kid to box — “Giant”

A true story about an Irishman in 1980s Sheffield, UK, his gym and that one cocky showman-in-the-making (Amir El-Masry) among the kids from all over who come to learn from him — Prince Naseem “Naz” Hamed.

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Movie Preview: A Second Look at Angels Keanu and Sandra Oh, Keke, Seth and Aziz Ansari testing “Good Fortune”

The second trailer undercuts some of the delight of the first one.

“Surprise” is the missing ingredient, so that’s no biggie.

This is due out in mid Oct.

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