Movie Nation

If I see one more BS “garbage” assault on Peter Farrelly and “Green Book” or “Bohemian Rhapsody” or any other contender — from Jezebel, Salon, et al — I am going to hurl.

It’s reached insane levels this year.

Where were you infants last year? Oh right, you were cheerleading that ditzy genre junk “The Shape of Water” into the winner’s circle, perpetually celebrated as a global Oscars punchline.

‘”English Patient” and “Crash?” So what? They gave Best Picture to the fish f—–g movie!”

What started with Harvey Weinstein’s media-placed whispering campaigns against his contending films’ competition has become a full on blood sport.

Bill Maher lights into the “B. Rhaps” bashing and nails it. “Roma” can be argued against on its merits  — meandering memory play shot in the dullest black and white ever, not on its grew-up-rich writer-director who is “inauthentic” for making it. “Green Book” blasting — we KNOW it’s those Lady Gaga freaks who’re behind it.

Enough already.

Enjoy.

Atmospheric and creepy, with characters and a setting far more interesting than the due the movie gives them, “Smaller and Smaller Circles” is a serial killer thriller set in the Philippines.

It’s about two Jesuit priests, amateur sleuths, hunting a monster who is hunting and murdering the nation’s poorest and least visible — pre-teen boys born into poverty.

Father Saenz and his junior partner Father Lucero connect the clues from mutilated bodies being found in garbage dumps, where boys that age and in that financial state — “breadwinners” for their starving families — scavenge.

With a generally inept and often corrupt NBI (National Bureau of Investigation) less interested in these cases than you’d hope — “Father Saenz, you’ve been watching too many Hollywood movies! There are no serial killers in the Philippines!” — grizzled Gus Saenz (Nonie Buencamino) and history teacher and forward thinker Jerome Lucero (Sid Lucero, yes, his name is the same) take it upon themselves to unmask the killer.

As Father Gus has been tracking serial abuser priests transferred from one Catholic diocese to another, part of the worldwide Catholic priests abuse scandal, sleuthing, criminal profiling and psychological evaluations of human behavior and motivation have entered his skill set.

Lucero’s troubled youth (he must have been abused) and sharp eye and mind make him a qualified sidekick.

They trace the string of corpses through Payatas, a district of Quezon City, ponder possible Church connections to the crimes because of the Church’s large presence in the slums — feeding, ministering to and providing medical care to the impoverished — and fight police indifference and eagerness to close the case in “the usual manner” with one of their “usual suspects.”

Director Raya Martin has created a polished, finished film with eerie plainsong (religious choral) music underscoring the grey exteriors and florescent interiors where the priests do their sleuthing, carry out interrogations and reason out a profile of this murderer.

Corruption is meant to be a big subtext here, with Father Jerome lecturing his students about the connection between Marcos Era Philippine excesses and the unaccountable Catholic Church.

If the film feels somewhat starved of drama, excitement and back story, it’s very helpful to remember that journalist Felisa Batacan’s 2002 source novel was the first ever crime novel written in Filipino and published in the Philippines.

We don’t know how the priests acquired specific skills, even if we’re given their motivations and the suggestions that these are an outgrowth of interest in tracking down child molesting priests.

A chat show in which the chuckling, dismissive Cardinal and too-cozy-with-the-Church head of the NBI are grilled and debate plays like local TV you might have watched in the 1960s in the US — primitive sets, hand-held microphones, unpolished.

That’s a nice analogy for the film, being the first-ever Filipino effort in this genre.

There’s a foreign born TV reporter (Carla Humphries) who works with the priests and swaps favors with them, a hunky young detective still idealistic enough to care and other cliches that you’d see on an amateur TV detective series — “Murder She Wrote,” “Monk” or “Father Cadfael.”

One other necessary but missing ingredient for this again FIRST EVER Filipino murder mystery/crime novel is suspense. The film doesn’t give us a potential victim to connect with and fear for, doesn’t discover the magic of the “ticking clock” thriller and sort of meanders towards a solution that, while interesting, is never that engaging.

At some point this story in English, Filipino and French with English subtitles drags and wears to the point where the viewer succumbs to the temptation to treat it as an artifact, not a nail-biting thriller or compelling mystery.

I wouldn’t mind seeing these characters again (Batacam penned a sequel, I hear), because the bare bones of a First Gen crime thriller are here. It’s just that everybody involved needs more practice in the genre to get it right.

MPAA Rating: TV-14

Cast: Carla Humphries, Nonie Buencamino, Sid Lucero

Credits: Directed by Raya Martin, script by Raymond Lee (as Moira Lang), Ria Limjap, based on the novel by Felisa “F.H.” Batacan. An Uncork’d release.

Running time: 1:51

The ancient thespian advice about “Never act with small children or dogs” is borne out with a vengeance in “Patrick,” a romantic comedy with no romance and virtually no comedy — save for the dog.

A cute pug, a dog-hating single woman ill-equipped to cope with him and a lot of absolutely lovely English scenery are the calling cards of this sweet little nothing of a movie. “Patrick” never lets us forget, first scene to last, main character to much of her supporting cast, how Ever so English it is.

If only that was enough.

We meet Sarah (Beattie Edmondson of “Bridget Jones’s Baby”) as she’s being dumped by the nerd-beau she just moved in with.

That latest calamity to befall her contributes to her being late for something shortly thereafter — her granny’s funeral. But she’s just in time for the reading of the will.

No, Granny didn’t leave her a valuable bracelet or real estate. She left her Patrick, the pug we’ve seen the little old lady spoil, coddle and indulge in a montage that ends with her collapse at the dog park.

He has a jumper he wears to the dog park, eats only the finest cuts of meat, for which Granny gave him refrigerator privileges, has his every need catered to.

Of course she had a tux for him, which he wears to the funeral.

Hapless Sarah, who can’t keep a boyfriend, has a new flat with a “No Pets” policy and a new job teaching English at Daneman High School– a never-ending disappointment to her well-off parents and over-achiever older-sister — is “bequeathed” this “match made in Hell.”

“Oh, honestly! I could weep!”

She’s the sort of very proper lump who doesn’t know dogs shouldn’t eat chocolate, has no clue how to modify bad doggy behavior and babbles away at Patrick as if he understands her very proper Received Pronunciation.

The posh twit.

But Granny thought “They’ll be good for each other,” and that’s that.

The script decrees that Patrick destroy her apartment while she’s away at work, and threaten her lease. He is destined to charm her unruly Grade 11 class as it studies “Jane Eyre” — pretty much for the whole semester. He must be a “babe magnet,” entangling leashes with dog-walking Ben (Tom Bennett) and inspiring gallantry and “You’ll wonder how you ever got along without him” from the handsome and gallant jogger (Ed Skrein) who corrals him after the pug has set off to chase deer through a bigger park.

Turns out the jogger is a veterinarian, and he’s sweet on our Sarah. We think.

“Patrick” is a movie of pointless if not quite insipid montages of Sarah’s life, bonding with Patrick and the sunny, green universe these two live in.

The locations are a bucket-list of English outdoor beauty — Chiswick, London, Buckinghamshire, Windsor in Berkshire and Surrey — parks, riverfronts and rivers, all lending a hand because the script conjures up more complications than romance.

But the dog? He will NOT be upstaged, thank you.

Edmundson takes a good pratfall and Jennifer Saunders, in her SECOND Valentine’s Day romantic comedy (as the Home Ec teacher always handing out botched bake goods from the class) is good for a grin.

Nobody else manages much more than suggesting “warmth.”

The dog’s tricks — toting treats to the shopping basket at the pet supermarket, raiding the fridge — are few. He’s just an adorable prop, designed to instigate the action.

Of which there is so very little that you do wonder if the English will finance, film and buy a cinema ticket for ANYthing that has to do with dogs, Windsor and Surrey.

For a “sweet nothing” of a movie, you kind of wish “nothing” wasn’t the most  accurate description.

MPAA Rating: unrated

Cast: Beattie Edmondson, Tom Bennett, Jennifer Saunders, Ed Skrein, Emily Atak, Gemma Jones and Adrian Scarborough

Credits: Directed by Mandie Fletcher, script by Vanessa Davies, Paul de Vos and Mandie Fletcher A Screen Media release.

Running time: 1:34

J.C. Chandor directed this Ben Affleck/Oscar Isaac/Charlie Hunnam/Pedro Pascal/Garrett Hedlund action pic about former Special Forces soldiers targeting a drug lord in the No Man’s Land where three borders meet, life is cheap and money is stashed in a safe in back.

A lot of Money.

“Triple Frontier” sounds a little like this Kathryn Bigelow project set in the same area — lawless mid-continental borderlands where multiple countries have claims and no one has control.

Netflix releases this March 13.

You don’t need a big budget and “name” stars to make a biopic about Steve McQueen. Or do you?

Andre Brooks plays the Icon of Cool, Steve M., in this March 5 release — “Chasing Bullitt.”

“Meditative,” “contemplative” and “introspective” are the words that come to mind when weighing the merits of “Woodsrider,” a narration-free documentary about a solitary teen snowboarder camping and boarding the woods and resort trails around Mount Hood, Oregon.

Any seasoned moviegoer will recognize those as code for “not much happens.”

As in, there’s no real “dialogue,” just snippets of overheard conversation — occasionally garbled.

There’s no voice-over narration, no chatter from the subject of the film, Sadie Ford, answering questions asked by director Cambria Matlow or camera operator Jerrod North from behind the camera.

There are no inter-titles identifying locations (Government Camp, Oregon), people (Friends, buddies lovers?) or the exact time of year.

Truth be told, there’s precious little “wood-riding,” snowboarding through fresh powder, carving her own trail, off the beaten path, through the Spruce trees down a newly coated mountain. We get a lovely if not lengthy taste of that in the film’s last few minutes.

There’s no back story, so when we gather that Sadie’s unidentified mother is selling their mountainside cabin and outbuildings, and Sadie lets on that she’s “giddy” about the dirt bike in the barn, as if it maybe belonged to her father, and points both hands to the heavens and says “Thanks, man!,” we’re not sure if she’s thanking a dead dad or a heavenly father.

There is nothing that comes out of our subject’s mouth that approaches this long, poetic opening title crawl in which Sadie makes a Doppler Effect allegory that says she just wants to hear her life as it is now, “coming at me,” instead of relying on “memory alone, my life going away from me” as in the fading sound of a Doppler Effect train whistle.

Matlow’s almost-all-access film, following Ford as she hikes up a mountain, makes a mid-winter camp with a tarp, her trusty dog Scooter and fire, or watches the dancing and peer pong at a snowboarders’ party, does her laundry or balances on a parking barrier as she tries to make a phone call in town.

It’s an all access as inside look at the mundane, making the film something of a zen experience — “slow cinema” of a sort, perhaps capturing a favorite recreation of kids who will live long enough to not have enough snow or “winter” to do something they love.

That’s implied as Sadie waits out the snow-melting rain in an ever-shortening winter season, finding distractions with friends — swimming with a bunch of other girls in the heated resort pool — when she might prefer pounding down the slopes.

Matlow makes a nice contrast between Sadie hanging out with friends, night-snowboarding at a well-lit resort with pop music piped onto the slopes drowning out the noise of the ski lifts and snow machines and Sadie’s quiet solitude, trekking to her camp, splitting kindling, stoking a fire made on a garbage can lid, a fire of dubious warming value.

She feeds midwinter grey jays out of her hand and romps with her sheepdog mix and banters with her tribe and…

In a telling moment, she and her friends set up a little impromptu jump out of snow piled next to a big metal roadside phone company box. She makes the jump, slides onto snow until we hear the grind of her Maneater snowboard rumbling on bare pavement.

We don’t see this, it’s out of the frame. And for some reason, Matlow and North stick with this conceit a little longer, overhearing unclear conversations outside of the camera frame, leaving the camera pointed at a not-that-scenic corner of road, power lines and a few trees opposite a convenience store.

There’s just a hint of “art” to all this, of course. But just a hint. Mostly it’s just random and pointless scenes circling a heroine who is just a 19 year-old, living her life and doing what she loves after the rain stops.

MPAA Rating: unrated, profanity

Cast: Sadie Ford

Credits: Directed by Cambria Matlow . An Uncork’d release.

Running time: 1:21

I always forget, is it “graphic sex” and “explicit violence,” or the other way around?

Lots of explicit and graphic and nasty, sweaty, Type-B spattered sex and blood and “meat” turn up in this March release from Uncork’d — a Brazilian horror farce whose menu is man. And woman.

I can hear Abe Lincoln’s review of “The Cannibal Club” now — “Those who like this sort of thing will find this the sort of thing they like.”

But we’ll be keeping an EYE on you. We will.

Bing Liu was just another sk8rboi, hanging with his dead-end pals in the struggling Rust Belt city of Rockford, Illinois, when he started video-taping their lives.

Skating stunts, pranks, parties, good times, he was the skater whose friends would ask, “Why are you filming EVERYTHING?”

“I always thought it was really cool that you could put all these great moments together in one long video and make it seem like The Best Time Ever,” Liu says.

Those early, improvised, DIY shot-and-edited scenes and montages would someday form the “historical” material in a feature length documentary. And now that film, “Minding the Gap,” is a Best Documentary Feature contender at this year’s Academy Awards.

A maturing Liu took that old footage, extensively interviewed his two best friends Kiere and Zack and created a moving portrait of boys growing up rough in Rockford — abused, with limited prospects and hellbent on not growing up, not giving up skating, making their friends their “family.”

“Minding the Gap,” a Hulu production, comes to PBS Monday, Feb. 18, as part of the documentary series “P.O.V.”

We meet Kiere at 18, a thoughtful black teen who declares “I do not fit in with my family.” His widowed mother Roberta agrees that he’s “very different” from his aimless siblings, especially the brother who steals from him. Roberta hopes he’ll “get real serious about what he’s doing.” Since he won’t be following his father into carpentry, what will that be?

And will his “strict” upbringing ever let him have a normal relationship? “I got disciplined…They call it ‘child abuse’ now.”

We meet the mustachioed Zack as he’s indulging. Hard not to do. Zack indulges a lot.

“Are you gonna put me smokin’ weed in the…thing?”

“Maybe.”

“I have no stipulations. I’ve given you free rein!”

So here Zack is, shotgunning Pabst Blue Ribbon.There he is, goggle-eyed and just-concerned-enough that he’s about to become a Dad.

“We have to grow up. And it’s gonna suck…I just wanted to skate.”

Bing’s polish as a cameraman and aspiring filmmaker grows, seemingly right before our eyes, as his fluid tracking shots capture guys who have had the time and support (SOMEbody fed them) to get very good at skateboarding in this withering (mass exodus of jobs and people) city.

But when we meet Bing’s half-brother Kent, and then his mother Mengyue, we see and hear of the abused childhood he lived through, experiences that making this film will help him process — he hopes.

“Minding the Gap” follows the three friends as they enter young adulthood, with Zack’s adjustment to fatherhood and the diminished expectations that a life as a roofer might mean to him.

It’s the most natural thing in the world that he and girlfriend Nina fight over parenting responsibilities in the most childish ways imaginable. Hearing Zack got smacked a bit as a kid just adds tension to these screaming matches — one of which Zack tapes on his phone (too rough to show) — which we know will end in violence.

Kiere lands his first real job, as a dishwasher at a restaurant. He’s the one who talks about the “trap” of Rockford, the one most eager to get out. But he’s got anger management issues and maturity issues. He gets his first car, and scratches it up doing skateboard stunts off the bumper.

Bing, seen working with a sound and camera assistant as an adult, with much more elaborate lighting and camera set-ups, gently confronts his friends, their families and his, about what they went through and what that means to them all today.

It’s an expertly cut film, with Bing letting Kiere mention he doesn’t care for his mother’s latest beau, cutting to his interview with Roberta as the soundtrack captures that bossy jerk of a boyfriend calling “Five minutes is up” from the next room. That’s all he expects Roberta to give her son’s friend, the aspiring filmmaker.

Billboards are cleverly used to punctuate scenes and messaging in “Minding the Gap,” as we see one for clinics that cater to skateboarding injuries after Kiere takes a fall, another that mentions “Dad’s the one who picks you up when you fall” after a skater loses his dad.

An “Adopt USA” billboard follows a Zack-and-Nina-can’t-get-it-together-for-their little-boy-Elliott moment.

“Minding the Gap” is a film of skill, pathos and humor, not the deepest movie up for an Best Documentary Oscar this year, but certainly the most approachable.

Whatever the future holds for these friends who were drifting away before this movie (guessing here) re-connected the three of them, Liu shows himself a skilled photographer, editor and documentary storyteller.

Don’t be surprised if his first Oscar nomination isn’t his last.

MPAA Rating: unrated, profanity (bleeped for PBS), alcohol, marijuana

Cast: Kiere Johnson, Bing Liu, Zack Mulligan

Credits: Directed by Bing Liu. A Hulu/PBS-POV release.

Running time: 1:25

This one a lot of high school and college kids who “like to party” have lived through — the horror.

That old movie critics’ maxim — “They rarely get better.” — kind of takes it on the chin with “Happy Death Day 2U,” the winded but game sequel to 2017’s “Happy Death Day.”

It starts badly. For five minutes or more we limp through a repetition of the same “Groundhog Day in Which You’re Murdered” routine — two rounds of it — featuring bland and charisma-starved Phil Vu as the tech nerd Ryan who busts in on college coed Tree (Jessica Rothe) and Carter (Israel Broussard), awakening her from her nightly “reset” after being murdered.

The horror of being stuck with Vu as our hero/protagonist almost sets in when the plot twists around into a science experiment with Tree–Theresa has been dumped in an alternate pathway in the Multiverse, an alternate college career with the same deadly day that ends with death.

Multiverses — God how I curse the day comic book writers and their Hollywood acolytes discovered those.

Even though Rothe provides “Death Day” with the same sort of lift she gave the original, the sequel has half the laughs and maybe one fifth the shocking death moments of “Happy Death Day.”

But it still has Rothe, of “La La Land,” over 30 and showing some miles, but giving her all to reprising her sorority girl Buffy the Mad Slasher Slayer trapped in “Edge of Tomorrow.” Her Tree knows the drill, knows that every detail she forgets, every would-be murderer she fails to guess, means she’ll have to duck, hide, run and fight her way through the trauma of being stalked and killed, one more time, by a nut with a knife.

In the alternate universe where she ends up, her snippy sorority rival Danielle (Rachel Matthews) is all about charity work, sweetness that is catnip to Carter. She’s auditioning for “The Miracle Worker,” and the best and brightest sorority pres has done her homework.

“Did you know Anne Frank was deaf AND blind?”

But what makes Tree think about fighting her way to success and remaining in this version of her alternate life is the third party at her birthday (and death day) lunch with her dad (Jason Bayle).

It’s her mom, her dead mom (Missy Yager) who is still around. And if you don’t think an experienced actress like Rothe can play the hell out of the shock and emotional release of having her mother (dead before the first film started) back, you aren’t giving the “Death Day” daughter her due.

Unfortunately, the slasher in the Bayfield U. mascot’s mask (The Bayfield Babies!) is still around, too. Veteran of this time loop or not, Tree is going to feel every fresh death she faces as she tries to settle into this “better version of my life.” And that gets old quickly.

Writer-director Christopher Landon is better at calling for cute camera angles and 360 degree pans and plotting — silly and farfetched as it is — than he is at jokes and zingers, which made the first film stand out.

Take away Rothe, and there is no movie.

Perhaps the clue is in the nerdy science boys trying to explain the temporal paradox to Tree in movie terms. They, at least, know where a big chunk of this movie came from — with only the jokes missing.

“Seriously, you’ve NEVER seen ‘Back to the Future?'”

MPAA Rating: PG-13 for violence, language, sexual material and thematic elements.

Cast: Jessica Rothe, Israel Broussard, Ruby Modine, Phi Vu, Suraj Sharma, Sarah Yarkin, Rachel Matthews.

Credits: Written and directed by Christopher Landon. A Universal/Blumhouse release.

Running time: 1:40