Movie Review: The Demure Charms of Aisling Bea and Billie Lourd unleashed — “And Mrs”

“And Mrs” is a bittersweet and offbeat romantic comedy of love and loss and mourning, and a most unexpected star vehicle for unfiltered Irish comic Aisling Bea, nicely paired up with Carrie Fisher’s kid, Billie Lourd.

Bea, one of the English speaking world’s greatest talk show guests, stars as a woman whose fiancé dies just before their wedding. Lost and bereft, she decides to follow through on “what Nathan wanted” more than anything else, to be married to her.

Gemma will battle friends, family, customs and her own guilty conscience to make this happen. And as she’s living in London, naturally there’s a loophole in arcane British law that allows such “necrogamy” nuptials.

Gemma, a London-Irish graphic designer, was never the “big gesture” and big emotions one in her relationship to Nathan, played by Colin Hanks. He botches his first “I Love You” by prematurely playing The Partridge Family’s “I Think I Love You” on his phone. He can’t get her to commit to an early “I love you,” just “I’m very, very fond of you.”

And he later made his very public proposal awkward enough for the record books.

But when she comes back from a morning run with her mates Ruth and Mo (Susan Wokoma and Omari Douglas) and Nathan doesn’t wake up, her shock is such than when the paramedics start zipping up the body bag, all she can think to say is “D’ye think he’ll be alright?”

Her parents (Sinéad Cusack and Peter Egan) are little comfort. Talking to Nathan, whom she still “sees” now and again, helps only so much. But when Nathan’s dizzy and somewhat less than considerate (never answers her phone or texts) sister Audrey shows up at the airport for the wedding, pink haired, gay and very pregnant from the surrogacy she took on to pay the bills, Gemma has an ally, someone “who gets me.”

Let friends and family tell her this idea of “doing what Nathan wanted” is “tasteless” and absurd, just a way of not coming to grips with grief. Short-skirted, impulsive and foul-mouthed mom-to-be Audrey is down for the dare.

“Grab hold of your labia! Let’s DO this!”

Melissa Bubnic’s script leans on the tropes of romantic comedies from “P.S. I Love You” to “My Best Friend’s Wedding,” with a particular focus on “Four Weddings and a Funeral.”

A clumsy hired officiant (Paul Kaye) begins the funeral with “It doesn’t matter if we’re one or 101, we’re never ready to say goodbye,” and then goes completely off the rails with tactless jokes and self-absorbed confessions that wholly misread the room.

Gemma’s mum and her bestie Ruth are dismayed at her fool’s errand of going through the motions — catering, bookings, fitting her dress and the like.

But brassy Audrey, given a kind of dazed disconnection in between outbursts of American self-righteousness by Lourd, becomes Gemma’s wounded ride-or-die, ginning up public outrage over a judge (Harriet Walter, droll) determined not to allow a loophole to puncture 200 years of precedent and tradition.

Yes, Gemma’s online and media nickname becomes “Corpse Bride.”

Director Daniel Reisinger has a lot of story, flashbacks and “explanations” to get through, so the film is longer than it feels. Nathan and Aubrey’s childhood must be contended with (Elizabeth McGovern is the estranged mom) and Gemma’s flashbacks underscore her own “issues.”

Lourd is game, if a tad underwhelming as the “nut” who gives the picture life, but better at hinting at the heart hurt Audrey is dealing with. Bea’s grim sarcasm nicely serves the character and the picture as she gets over her fury of having to break the news to Nathan’s “only family” that he’s died in the arrivals gate at Heathrow.

Of COURSE she’ll take Audrey in.

“Hardly going to throw a pregnant woman out in the streets. It’s not BETHELEHEM, after all.”

And Reisinger and Bubnic follow nuptial-comedy specialist P.J. Harvey’s (“Muriel’s Wedding,” “My Best Friend’s Wedding”) edict that when family and friends gather for weddings, they can’t resist a sing-along, the “comfort food” of any wedding comedy ever since Shakespeare’s “Hey nonny nonnies.”

The narrative has heart and hurt and laughs and a big finish. Sure, it’s formulaic and not every scene has a proper pay off.

But in a cinelandscape where rom-coms that work are as rare as hope for a better tomorrow, “And Mrs” plays, and gives Bea another year or two’s supply of chat show anecdotes and jokes. Not that she’s needed them.

Rating: unrated, with lots and lots of profanity

Cast: Aisling Bea, Billie Lourd, Colin Hanks, Susan Wokoma, Harriet Walter, Omari Douglas, Peter Egan and Sinéad Cusack.

Credits: Directed by Daniel Reisinger, scripted by
Melissa Bubnic A Vertical release on Amazon Prime, other streamers.

Running time: 1:51

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Movie Review: Ancient China sees a Bloody Martial Arts Brawl over the “Nine Ring Golden Dagger”

The first laugh in the martial arts quest thriller “Nine Ring Golden Dagger” might be its title. It was called “Blocking the Horse” in China. And the “dagger” that was mistranslated here is a sword attached to a seven or eight foot pike.

And the second laugh is in first title to appear on the screen in it. This movie is “purely fictional,” we’re reaassured.

Those two sword-fighting sisters who struggle with a brawny sea of sworn enemies over a “Nine Ring Nation Stabilizing Golden Sword,” warriors flying with the aid of springboards and wires and shooting hailstorms of arrows and crossbow bolts and swinging clashing, clanging and cutting blades that mainly deliver survivable wounds are all just made up.

Good to know.

The Song and Liao factions are fighting over the lands of the Han Dynasty, either before or after its breakup (that’s unclear). The Song General Yang (Wue Yue) lost the titular golden dagger/sword/pike and his life in battle.

Weeping sisters Baba and Jiumei (Tianshuo Song, Xintong Zhang) resolve to retrieve it from a Liao stronghold. They dress up as soldiers and have no trouble at all passing for cute, thin fighting men or infiltrating this fortress capital and the Indiana Jones-booby-trapped room where the sword is kept.

They survive wounds and a chase by assorted minions of a security chief (Yu Kang, et al) and take shelter in a roadhouse run by a Song expat (Kai Zhang) ready to return to their homeland. A mistaken identity brawl is how they get acquainted.

“How do you know the Yang family sword-fighting technique (In Mandarin with English subtitles)?”

“Find out in HELL!”

After they figure out they’re on the same side, they’re all basically trapped there for much of the movie as waves of bad guys overtake them, and partake in the house wine before figuring out these are the droids sisters they’re looking for.

The bar brawls are impressive and alternately bloody and low comedy amusing. There’s a towering waiter and diminutive cook sight gag, a foppish foe related to the Liao dowager empress and a lot of strangely survivable slices and impalings as every time you figure that’s it, it’s CURTAINS for this or that protagonist, they somehow rally with a balm or wave of the (three) screenwriters’ hands.

There’s so much exposition and so many characters that the picture is awfully cluttered and even hard to follow before the narrative settles down in that one important location.

Choreographer Gao Meng’s fights are less impressive than the state-of-the-wirework art films in this genre, but pass muster in what amounts to an overpopulated but handsomely mounted martial arts B-picture.

Rating: unrated, lots of violence

Cast: Tianshuo Song, Xintong Zhang, Kai Zhang, Yu Kang, Liu Xinlei, You Xianchao and Wue Yue,

Credits: Directed by Feng Xiaojun, scripted by Gen Zi Qi, Xu Wen-Zheng and Chen Peng. A Well Go USA/Hi-YAH! release.

Running time: 1:34

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Movie Preview: Bondage doesn’t necessarily lead to um, a “relationship” — “Oh, Hi!”

Hand cuffs, French toast, “Give me twelve hours to show you” what a “relationship” can be like.

Who hasn’t been THERE, right?

Molly Gordon, Logan Lerman, Geraldine Viswanathan, John Reynolds and David Cross star in this kinky (ish) flirting with murderous (ish) comedy.

July 25 it is.

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Movie Preview: Florida horrors of Lucid Dreaming — “Eye for an Eye”

Whitney Peak from “Hunger Games” stars, but you will recognize a couple of other faces in this “Sandman is coming for you” thriller. 

June 20, theaters and VOD via Vertical Releasing.

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Movie Preview: Ari Aster’s take on America’s waking nightmare — “Eddington”

Joaquin Phoenix and Pedro Pascal, rivals in a Southwestern town riven by America’s poisonous political landscape and the lies that divide us.

Emma Stone and Austin Butler also star in this one, which doesn’t exactly promise cinematic “escape” from the country’s dire straits.

July 24.

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Classic Film Review: Streisand, O’Neal and Bogdanovich go Looney Tunes Madcap — “What’s Up, Doc?” (1972)

A handful of great filmmakers came to the movies as genuine cinema buffs. Truffaut to Tarantino, Godard and Schrader, Peter Bogdanovich to Park Chan Wook all were film fanatics, some even critics who found a path from taking notes and passing judgment in the dark to sitting behind the camera, waiting to be criticized.

Bogdanovich, who died in 2022, was the quintessential film nerd turned filmmaker. Like Tarantino, he tried to make movies that were an homage to the films and filmgoing of his youth. Unlike Tarantino, who famously cut his teeth on movies working in a porn theater and later in a down market video store, Bogdanovich embraced acknowledged cinema classics — genre works from the Great Masters.

He got his start, like many, working for Roger Corman. And “Targets” became an homage to Corman’s style and make-thrillers-on-the-cheap ethos. His big break was a fin de siecle Western about growing up watching Westerns, a mournful black and white adaptation of Larry McMurtry’s “The Last Picture Show.”

And what did Bogdanovich do with the Oscar-winning Hollywood capital that film gave him? He took a shot at making a modern (1972) “screwball” comedy, full of slapstick, sight gags and manic comic patter. “What’s Up, Doc?” would go full “Bringing Up Baby,” with Barbra Streisand as the chatterbox who keeps running into and bowling over nerdy musicologist Ryan O’Neal, an Iowa academic hoping to prove Neanderthals made music with “igneous rocks.”

The movie archetype “manic pixie dream girl” was born with Hepburn’s turn opposite Cary Grant in that Howard Hawks farce way back in 1938. Streisand, at her peak, would play a hipper, sassier ’70s updating of the type — sexy, flirty and funny, just as aggressive but less needy and overtly sexual than the hooker she played in “The Owl and the Pussycat,” her previous film and a fairly funny comedy in its own right.

Buck Henry would rejoin her to work on the script. Bogdanovich would bring along Randy Quaid from “The Last Picture Show” for good luck, and his then-wife, producer and on this film production and costume designer and the sounding board his career lost when they divorced, Polly Platt.

O’Neal was famously handsome and famously stiff on screen. But paired with Streisand, he was never funnier as an overwhelmed comic foil who’d look despairingly through his glasses at the camera and declare “I’m having a NIGHTmare!” Or look again and plead with the viewer.

“Help!”

And Streisand? She’s a rat-a-tat patter riot. Don’t think you’re insulting her Judy by asking if she “knows the meaning of PROPRIETY?”

“Propriety; noun: conformity to established standards of behavior or manner, suitability, rightness, or justice. See “etiquette.”

“Get Smart” veteran Henry and “Bonnie and Clyde” writers David Newman and Robert Benton packed the script with zingers and silly situations. San Francisco and Bogdanovich, his stunt team, leads and colorful supporting cast which included zany Kenneth Mars, screwy Austin Pendleton, madcap Madeline Kahn, John Hillerman, M. Emmet Walsh and even an uncredited comic (John Byner), did the rest.

There’s these four suitcases, see? Tartan red plaid suitcases (Ah, the ’70s.). One’s got “Top Secret” documents that some sketchy refugee from Woody Allen’s universe (Michael Murphy) stole. One’s full of a rich lady’s (Mabel Anderson) Jewels. One has the Iowa academic’s “igneous rocks.” And one belongs to the not-quite-Frisco-flower-child/hustler (Streisand).

Those cases will be swiped, stashed, switched and tracked and don’t bother trying to keep up with that, because it’s not at all logical and that’s kind of the fun. They’re MacGuffins, gimmicks for driving the action, but not really.

Howard (O’Neal) and his fiancee Eunice (Kahn) travel to San Fran to see if he’s won a grant from a rich philanthropist (Pendleton). But hapless, forgetful, igneous-rocks-obsessed Howard is waylaid by big-eyed Judy (Streisand), who is something of a polymath.

“I guess you’re not really interested in igneous rock formations.”

“Not as much as I am in the sedimentary or metamorphic rock categories. I mean, I can take your igneous rocks or leave ’em. I relate primarily to micas, quartz, feldspar. You can keep your pyroxenes, magnetites and coarse grained plutonics as far as I’m concerned.”

All she needs to do is entice Howard away from the supportive but shrill and bossy Eunice, charm rich Mr. Larrabee (Pendleton) and insult the hell out of the insufferable Eastern European rival for that grant (Mars, as campy as he ever was) so that love can bloom, right?

“Love means never having to say you’re sorry.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard.”

Yup, we’re going to mock O’Neal’s biggest blockbuster (“Love Story”) because as they say in classic madcap comedies, “Nothing’s Sacred.”

Judy will disrupt the big musicologist dinner and cross swords with the insufferable Hugh (Mars).

“I find that as difficult to swallow as this potage au gelee.

“How would you like to swallow one sandwich d’knuckles?”

Suitcases will be mixed up, and cops and robbers and others will get tangled up in a merry chase through The City by the Bay on foot, via street cart, Chinese parade dragon and a Volkswagen Beetle.

I mean, thank God Beetles float, right?

The patter and the stars’ chemistry leap back to mind, watching this film anew. Future character actor extraordinaire M. Emmet’s bit part in the third act now pops, and I spied Byner in this viewing because both of those guys made movies in cities where I worked and I got to interview them.

But as the mind remembers images more clearly, what sticks, and rather surprisingly so, is the stuntwork.

Yes, “Bullitt” was the ultimate San Francisco chase picture. But stunt coordinator and second unit director Paul Baxley’s team deliver motorized sprints, hilltop leaps, handbrake drifts, crashes and bottoming-outs (cars coming back to Earth after going airborne) that rival anything ever filmed there.

The chases here are funnier, more organic and set in the real world, with ’70s cars lacking the suspension to do most of what we see them do here, and survive. So they don’t survive. Some even wind up in the Bay.

But older viewers will recall which one was advertised as “It also floats.”

Antic high speed banter ages almost as well as slapstick and physical comedy. Those are two big reasons this picture still plays. But casting Streisand and O’Neal as foils seems as inspired as it ever did. And “discovering” Kahn and Sorrel Booke (future Boss Hogg), casting the screwball Mars and the droll baritone John Hillerman (“Magnum P.I.”) and EveryEuropean Stefan Gierasch (“Jeremiah Johnson”) to do what they were known for doing pays dividends that lend “What’s Up, Doc?” a timeless quality.

Bogdanovich would reach his peak with his next film, reuniting with O’Neal and Kahn and putting O’Neal’s daughter Tatum to work in a masterpiece, “Paper Moon.” He’d run out of luck with period piece homages with his attempted musical, “At Long Last Love,” and his career never wholly recovered from that or his split with Platt.

Her professional/personal relationship with “Last Picture Show” author Larry McMurtry would bear further fruit with “Terms of Endearment,” which she production designed, and its sequel, “The Evening Star,” which she produced.

Bogdanovich evolved into the sort of grand old man of the cinema he made documentaries about. No, he wasn’t John Ford, Howard Hawks or Buster Keaton. But he was a living link to their traditions and a great talker and interview subject.

All three screenwriters would go on to further and greater glory, with Benton becoming an Oscar winning writer-director (“Kramer vs. Kramer,” “Places in the Heart”) and Henry scripting “Heaven Can Wait” and Newman and Benton writing “Bad Company” and “Superman.”

And Streisand and O’Neal would re-team a few years later as his career was winding down and she was about to eschew comedies and reach for “serious filmmaker” status with “Yentl,” “The Prince of Tides” and “The Mirror has Two Faces.” “The Main Event” (1979) had no prayer of living up to its title.

But “What’s Up, Doc?” lives on, a classic that harks back to earlier classics, a screwball comedy that still plays and definitive proof that filmmakers well-versed in the landmark movies of the past can make great films just by copying what worked, way back when.

Rating: G

Cast: Barbra Streisand, Ryan O’Neal, Madeline Kahn, Kenneth Mars, Austin Pendleton, Mabel Albertson, Sorrel Booke, Stefan Gierasch, Randy Quaid, M. Emmet Walsh, Michael Murphy and John Hillerman.

Credits: Directed by Peter Bogdanovich, scripted by Buck Henry, David Newman and Robert Benton. A Warner Bros. release on Tubi, Amazon, other streamers

Running time: 1:34

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Movie Preview: Eddie and Pete, Keke and Eva, “The Pickup”

Tim Story of “Barbershop,””Think Like a Man” and an earlier version of “Fantastic Four” directed this action comedy about armored car drivers (Eddie Murphy and Pete Davidson) who fight back when they get robbed — with bizarre and perhaps amusing consequences.

The cast includes Keke Palmer and Eva Longoria and Marshawn Lynch and…Andrew Dice Clay?

August 6.

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Netflixable? Taraji and Tyler Perry Grab that “Straw” that Breaks a Single Mom’s Back

Tyler Perry built his reputation as a champion of Black womanhood. He’s told mostly women’s stories, showcased actresses both famous and obscure and spared no makeup or hairstyling expense for his shiny soap operas and low comedies with a message.

For many years, he went so far as to wear a dress to draw a crowd and help get across his comical melodramas’ points.

With “Straw,” he turns the great Taraji P. Henson loose and spends Netflix’s money on a melodramatic thriller about a woman beaten down by the worst that life, the system and Georgia has to offer.

It’s a pull-out-all-the-stops weeper, full of martrydom, coincidence, over-the-top cruelty, manipulation and plot contrivances. Say what you will about all that’s dumped on our heroine. She “snaps” a lot later than the average human being would at the sort of day she’s had.

Janiyah endures a noisy, dumpy no-AC apartment, noisy neighbors and an endlessly threatening landlady to keep a roof over her and her smart but medicated and fragile special-needs daughter’s heads. She works two jobs, drives a beater and still can’t keep up with the rent, her kids’ medicine or school lunch plan.

And the day we meet her, the straws finally pile up enough to snap the camel’s back.

She’s gotten an eviction notice. But it’s payday at the market where she works. She can cover the bill by 10. Then her daughter’s school calls — $40 in arrears on Aria’s lunch plan. Her boss (Glynn Turman) is in a fury. The school is wondering about the kid’s latest bruise — “She falls a lot.”

It’s raining, and she almost causes an accident. A road raging cop (Tilky Jones) crashes into her and sees to it that she’s blamed and loses her car.

“Make her suffer,” he tells a fellow officer.

Social Services takes her daughter. Her landlord tosses her belongings in the street and her boss fires her with extreme prejudice when she finally returns to work.

“Why are you DOING this?” she wails at every fresh assault, hardship or indignity. We know why. We can see it all unraveling and how it all looks. Janiyah knows, too.

“You don’t know me! You don’t care!”

Her “just get through this” day has gone off the rails. No more “go back to nursing school” dreams. No more chance of providing a better life for her daughter. The day’s cascading cluster of coincidences finish her off.

There’s a back room robbery just as she’s begging that abusive boss for her last check. She fights for the money she needs to just get through this day and a gun goes off.

We either can’t believe our eyes, or roll them right to the back of our heads as she staggers across the street to cash her bloodstained check. Because what would top every over-the-top-thing that happened before but a “bank robbery” and hostage situation that nobody is willing to believe “is all a big misunderstanding?”

Perry’s cooked up a “Falling Down” meets “John Q” mashup, with a whiff of “Dog Day Afternoon” in Janiyah’s single-day saga. Janiyah is trapped in a bank with cops itching for the chance to shoot her and only a half-sympathetic banker (Sherri Shepherd) and single-mom Det. Raymond (Teyana Taylor) willing to hear her out.

Maybe the world will hear her story when a hostage live-streams the stand-off. Or maybe not.

Perry manipulates our sympathies by having characters justify what’s happened and her role in it, as if that lets a woman with blood on her check and a gun she’s pointing at a clerk off.

The script piles on Janiyah to show how life has stacked its deck against her, and then Perry has to bend it, himself and that one cop’s motivations into a pretzel in trying to suggest a way out.

It’s no wonder Perry had to cheat through the ending, as recovering from this much hardship, injustice and cruelty logically is beyond resolution. “She snapped” isn’t righteous or a get-out-of-jail-free card, no matter how bad the day and the life before it have gone.

There’s a message movie here, one that rips “nobody wants to work for anything” and “she made bad choices” judgements, that showcases what a struggle race-based-poverty is and builds sympathy for anyone who has to endure even a fraction of this in their daily life.

Perry’s problem wasn’t in “seeing” this and sympathizing with people like Janiyah. It was piling it all on one person in one day, letting her snap and then blundering his way to a cop-out of a finale.

Perry doesn’t put his finger on the scales on Janiya’s behalf. He balls up his fist and pounds them until they break.

Rating: TV-MA, violence, profanity

Cast: Taraji P. Henson, Sherri Shepherd, Teyana Taylor, Mike Merrill, Glynn Turman, Tilky Jones and Sinbad

Credits: Scripted and directed by Tyler Perry. A Netflix release.

Running time: 1:47

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Documentary Review: Guitars, Reverb and a History of “Sound of the Surf”

Here’s a fun-fun-fun little documentary about the history of surf music, a movie that remembers the surfing “fad” and enduring appeal of surf culture and the “dripping damp sound” of Fender (usually) guitars pumped through amps that had to grow up to survive at that volume.

“Sound of the Surf” is about surf music, what gave birth to it, what it evolved from, its peak years in the early ’60s, and its ’80s and then ’90s revivals.

So naturally its about Dick Dale, the Lebanese American hep cat who turned “Misirlou” into every guitar player’s wet dream and who invented the fat, thunderous sound of surf intrumentals. But it’s also about The Ventures (“Walk Don’t Run”), The Chantays (“Pipeline”), Link Wray (“Rumble”) and The Surfaris (“Wipeout”).

Duncan, like some of those who appear in his film, has died since the movie was nearly finished. But fan, historian, writer and surf band leader John Blair (Jon & the Nightriders) is here to lead us through coastal California’s Hawaian cultural appropriation in the ’50s and the music that spun out of that.

We meet the original Gidget (Kathy Kohner) and hear about the confluence of events — youth culture, “Gidget” the movie, L.A. rock radio KROQ and young “inland” people “trippin'” down to Balboa’s The Rendezvous Ballroom (Newport Beach) for instrumental music you didn’t just dance to. You “surfin’ stomped” to the rumble Dale and his legion of imitators unleashed from that stage.

You might not guess that surf music spun out of the “improvisational, like surfing” jazz that early ’50s surfers were into, with Henry Mancini’s rhythmic thump theme song to the TV series “Peter Gunn” eventually becoming the template of what was to come.

The music burst out in ’61, that bubble between Elvis and “The Day the Music Died” and The Beatles. It was gone, done in by The Fab Four, “finished” by ’65. Jimi Hendrix’s famous recorded suggestion that we’ll “never hear surf music again” in ’67 could have been a jab or a lament about a sound that was vanishing.

But whatever the music’s elusive place on the pop charts and “American Bandstand,” a generation of bands erupted from garages, and inspired generations to come.

Dale and members of his band, The Del-Tones, as well as The Bel-Airs, Eddie and the Showmen, The Challengers, Kathy Marshall, “the Queen of Surf Music,” Will Glover from The Pyramids (It wasn’t just white kids making this music.) appear here and remember the era, the craze, the landmark venues and the evolution of it all.

It helped that guitar maker and amplifier inventor Leo Fender was close by, ready to hear out suggestions and modify amps to suit the speaker-shredding sound, and survive it.

It’s great seeing and hearing Dale repeat the story he told everybody who interviewed him (including me) after his “Pulp Fiction” inspired ’90s comeback, about how he knew this Middle Eastern song from his youth and thought giving it a manic, guitar-driven “Gene Krupa drumming” beat was a good idea, one more time.

And it’s always fun hearing old surfers and old surf music musicians rag on The Beach Boys, the guys who coopted and sanitized their sound — gave the songs lyrics and put out landmark songs and albums romanticizing and appropriating the culture that California surfers themselves were the first to appropriate.

Rating: unrated

Cast: Dick Dale, Kathy Marshall, John Blair, Bill Medley, Mark Volman and Howard Kaylan (Flo and Eddie), Will Glover, Kathy Kohner, Quentin Tarantino and Jello Biafra.

Dale and legions of popularizers of the music appear in Thomas Duncan’s film. Journalists and TV hosts, musical contemporaries (Bill Medley) and figures and bands who took up and revived the music, from Los Straightjackets to bands from Japan and Eastern Europe appear and talk up this phenomenon, where it came from and how it keeps coming back.

Credits: Directed by Thomas Duncan. A Vision Films release.

Running time: 1:10

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Movie Preview: Matthew McConaughey pilots “The Lost Bus”

This is an Apple Original Films movie about a piece of wildfire history.

McConaughey plays a driver who heroically plunges into an inferno. America Ferrara co-stars.

Oh, and the director of “United 93,” Paul Greengrass, is behind the camera. So yeah, this should be thrilling and moving. No release date yet, but “coming soon” says it’s due out this year, perhaps on the cusp of fall.

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