Movie Nation

The 2011 Belgian comedy “Hasta la Vista” earns a chuckle-out-loud remake with “Come as You Are,” a tale of two wheelchair-bound guys and their blind pal road tripping from Colorado to Canada.

They’re disabled and they’re virgins and you guessed it — or read the headline — it’s a “Sex Trip” to a “Sure Thing” in Montreal, a bordello that caters to those with physical impairments.

We’re treated to testy, disabled-savvy wisecracks, little whiffs of drama, a dollop of romance, pathos, slapstick and a “Dirty Sanchez” fueled bar fight. Yeah, that’s a bucket-list of adventure, and we’d expect no less from a road comedy that works.

Scotty (Grant Rosenmeyer of “My Crazy Ex-Girlfriend”) has been quadriplegic since childhood. His talkaholic long-suffering mother (Janeane Garofalo, outstanding) just prattles past his morning erection and endures the occasional profane complaints from her “Bug” as she copes with every humiliating thing he can’t do for himself.

He’s an angry punk with a hair-trigger temper, which he flashes at the new guy, Matt (Hayden Szeto of “The Edge of Seventeen”). Scotty is too quick to teach “Biceps” as he calls him “the pecking order,” and his choice of ride.

“That’s a grandma chair, by the way.”

Mo, played by Ravi Patel (of “Master of None”) is practically the only guy at the rehab clinic who will put up with Scotty’s abuse. Mo’s just blind enough to have no clue who he’s complimenting on the bus for having “lovely hair.” He’s talking to Thor, or his twin brother, BTW.

Scotty raps, the cleverest “Hollywood” improvement on the original film this is based on.

“Half-man, half machine, girl you don’t need to be quick. Come and get you some of this quadriplegic!”

It’s when he gets a business card from a stranger also living the wheelchair life that Scott has to tamp down his inner-and-outer jerk. There’s this brothel, Le Chateau Paradis, in Montreal. It’ll cure what ails him.

But to get there, Scotty’s going to need friends — accomplices. Cozy up to Matt, arm-twist Mo. Beg if you need to.

Hire a nurse-driver with a van, and keep it “totally black ops.” As Mo puts it, “I’m 35 years old and I’ve never been anywhere without my Mom.” They won’t tell their smothering parent caregivers what they’re up to.

Cinematographer turned director Richard Wong (“Yes, We’re Open”) and screenwriter Erik Linthorst (the stoner comedy “High School” was his) take care to let us see the machinations Scotty the Quad must go through to pack and prep and just get out the door without getting caught.

A funny touch? Matt’s tweenage sister (Martha Kuwahara) is enlisted to round up their “supplies” for the quest  — at the um, drugstore.

Casting is what makes all this come off, as Rosenmeyer’s caustic Scotty is balanced with the soulful, timid Mo that Patel gives us and the “good son” rebellion Szeto has to play. Throw in “Precious” Oscar nominee Gabourey Sidibe as the take-no-crap driver-nurse and it’s game-on.

There’s a lot that can happen between Littleton, Colorado and Montreal, but “Come as You Are” isn’t overstuffed with incidents. Most of the standard-issue road-trip comedy scenes dreamed up here have decent comic payoffs.

Sidibe is alternately brassy and charming, Patel brings hidden sensitivity to Mo, Szeto has a moment or two and Garofalo makes her character’s depth a surprise payoff here.

Building the picture around Rosenmeyer scores with the scripted white-guy-who-types-with-his-teeth rapping scenes. Those raps give vent to the frustrations and inner resources of the disabled, and do it with comic panache.

“I’m sittin’ here stuck in cement, like Christopher Reeve long after Clark Kent!”

Yeah, it’s on-the-nose and plenty of the laughs are low-hanging fruit. But for guys with limited reach, this crew makes those easy laughs come easily, and unlike the film’s title, no pun intended.

MPAA Rating: TV-MA, profanity, sexual situations

Cast: Grant Rosenmeyer, Hayden Szeto, Ravi Patel, Gabourey Sidibe, Janeane Garofalo , Jennifer Jelsema and C.S. Lee.

Credits: Directed by Richard Wong, script by Erik Linthorst.  A Samuel L. Goldwyn release.

Running time: 1:47

I loved the dark Swedish/Norwegian/French film this is based on, “Force Majeure.”

So even though this Hollywood remake is warning mixed notices I early reviews, I am cautiously optimistic. Will Farrell is a master at cringe worthy, and Dreyfuss is no slouch at put upon and pissed.

Ski holiday, avalanche, husband saves his own butt in a panic and there are “repercussions.”

Netflix really only has itself to compete with in the newly-revived teen romantic comedy genre. Theatrical studios gave up on making such films and getting them right a generation ago.

But young fans of Netflix’s bubbly (“The Perfect Date”) or bawdy (anything with Joey King) entries in the field will learn a hard lesson with the sequel to the very best film the streaming service has made for teen romantics.

It’s damn near impossible to catch lightning in a bottle twice.

The adorable and bubbly “To All the Boys I Loved Before” earns a sauntering, meandering and much less fun second chapter with “To All the Boys: P.S. I Still Love You.” Not only does the title kind of give the whole game away, but it dawdles so much and throws up such contrived obstacles to love that it darkens some of the glow of the original comedy in the process.

Lana Condor still makes a lead so cute you want to pinch her cheeks. Go-to “teen” hunk Noah Centineo (“The Perfect Date,” TV’s “The Fosters”) still has that offhand, jockish charm.

The soundtrack still sparkles with hits ranging from “Then He Kissed Me” to tunes to CYR, Lola Marsh, Anna of the North and Bora York and covers of “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” and “I Want it That Way.”

We pick up the story (there’s a refresher video of the first film) with virginal Lara Jean (Condor) trying to get a grip on her giddiness and wrestle with “this relationship thing.” She’s got her first real boyfriend and he takes her on their first real date — dinner at a fancy eatery, a magic lantern launch afterwards.

Perfect, right?

“I just don’t want us to break each other’s hearts!”

Trouble comes from that first date, from those “other” love letters than lonely Lara Jean sent to all the boys she crushed on throughout her young life in the original “To All the Boys,” from beau Peter’s “reputation” and Lara Jean’s inexperience at all this stuff.

As in, he’s smooth, but he takes her places he’s taken other women. He reads her a poem for Valentine’s Day and she thinks he wrote it just for her. And she gets a reply from a letter to a middle school crush (Jordan Fisher), which “complicates” things like, you know, her feelings.

Lara Jean’s still living too much in her head (endless scripted interior monologues), and uncertain as to how to navigate these complicated feelings. Holland Taylor plays Stormy, the retired flight attendant at the nursing home where Lara Jean volunteers, the older woman who gives this motherless teen romantic advice.

But that nursing home is also where John Ambrose (Fisher), that middle school crush, is volunteering. Sparks fly! Or, um, should. He’s musical, thoughtful, a lot of things Peter is not.

Some scenes color in around the edges of the movie even if they don’t advance the plot — dissecting octopi in biology class, a Korean New Year celebration with Lara Jean’s mother’s family. There’s a middle school time capsule, tree-house confessions, and a possible new romance (Sarayu Blue) for widowed Dad (John Corbett).

But really, this movie plays like the middle picture in a trilogy — a romance in a holding pattern. The arguments are realistic but inserted as mere plot requirements. The spark between the leads fizzles, new sparks don’t replace those and the slight edge the first film had — his mean girl ex (Emilija Baranac), her obnoxious meddling little sister (Anna Cathcart) have lost their sting.

Which isn’t surprising, because in rom-coms, you only get to surprise us once. God help them if Netflix is indeed planning a third film in this story, because they’ve wrung most of the delight out of it.

MPAA Rating: TV-14, teen partying, discussions of sex

Cast: Lana Condor, Noah Centineo, Jordan Fisher, Anna Cathcart, Madeleine Arthur, Emilija Baranac, John Corbett and Holland Taylor

Credits: Directed by Michael Fimognari, script by Sofia Alvarez and J. Mills Goodloe, based on the Jenny Han novel. A Neflix release.

Running time: 1:42

Danish director Lone Scherfig throws half a dozen Manhattan lives together, using infamously callous New Yorkers to try and make a point about “The Kindness of Strangers.”

It doesn’t wholly come off, with back stories too thinly developed, pathos and cruelty blending with the whimsy of a New York con. But she filmed “An Education,” “Italian for Beginners,” and “Wilbur Wants to Kill Himself.” So even if we’re doing some of the work for her, she can be relied on to make certain we get more than a little something out of the trip.

Andrea Riseborough plays an ER nurse who has let her job get to her. Nurse Alice hasn’t gone down the “Nurse Jackie” route. She’s not doing drugs. But she’s filling her days and nights with extra work at a soup kitchen or running a self-help group called “Forgiveness.”

It’s just the ER that makes her weep and slip out back to throw up.

Zoe Kazan is Clara, a young mother of two boys (Jack Fulton and Finlay Wojtak-Hissong) who stuffs them into their old station wagon and flees to the city “for a vacation.” She’s in a troubled marriage but struggling to put a smiling face on this trip — broke, just a few clothes, a car and the most expensive city in North America in winter.

“Are we homeless? ” the oldest wants to know. “No more homeless than anybody else here.” As Mom says this in a soup kitchen, well.

Caleb Landry Jones is hapless Jeff, a “slow” and clumsy young man who cannot keep focus or keep even the most menial job.

“Firing me is all you can ‘do for’ me?”

And Jay Baruchel and Tahar Rahim play a sensitive attorney and a client who has just gotten out of jail. John Peter (Baruchel) drags Marc (Rahim) to “Forgiveness” meetings, each expecting the other to get something out of the “learn to forgive yourself” (a little hazy) ethos of Alice and the group.

In this little corner of Manhattan, pretty much everybody stumbles across the proud old Russian tea-room/restaurant where Timofey (Bill Nighy) presides. It’s an ineptly-run place that doesn’t measure up to the Czarist decor and Timfey’s mild-mannered if sketchy accent.

Marc, it turns out, has restaurant running experience. “Tim” can drop the “fey” and the phony accent. Marc can save the place.

Scherfig’s inter-related stories fold in on each other through the restaurant, the soup kitchen, the ER and the streets. Needless to say, it is Clara’s plight that drives “The Kindness of Strangers.”

Their dilemma is compounded by the home life they’re fleeing. The abusive husband/father (Esben Smed) is a cop. If they get identified in a shelter or hospital, if they get parking tickets, he will be able to track them.

Kazan, of “The Big Sick,” “The Ballad of Buster Scruggs” and “Ruby Sparks,” plays a tour-guide to DIY out-of-towner survival in the big city. Yes, she cadges drinks and leftovers from a wedding at the Russian eatery. She wanders the halls of a hotel picking up room service leftover trays as well. They duck into libraries, Grand Center Station and churches to get warm.

“What do other people do?” her oldest asks. “Where do they go?”

“Other people have folks. We don’t.”

Most desk clerks, shelter admissions officers and hotel security folks are New York stereotypes — won’t get involved. But ducking into the church where Alice’s group meets changes their fate.

The little slices of street life, restaurant trickery and ER grind are familiar. The story takes the occasional melodramatic turn for the worse.

But Jones makes an affable, perhaps “on the spectrum” goof — good-hearted, with a temper. Baruchel does the hangdog thing well, and Nighy is the most effortlessly charming presence in any movie he turns up in.

Zazan is marvelous at playing desperation that Clara most desperately wants to hide. And Riseborough, most recently seen in “The Grudge” but famous for “Birdman” and “Battle of the Sexes,” makes Alice the hollowed-out rock here, a broken soul whose deep wound we can only guess at, but who wears her humanity on her care-worn face.

“Why can’t you just be kind?” she pleads, at one point. Some hear her, others turn a deaf ear.

This isn’t on a par with Scherfig’s best films, but the milieu and situations are immersive and the characters just colorful enough to hold our interest.

If you’re a non-New Yorker like myself, maybe it’ll remind you of your first trips to the city and how lucky you felt if you got through the visit without depending on “The Kindness of Strangers.” It’s always in short supply there.

MPAA Rating: unrated, one scene of violence

Cast: Zoe Kazan, Andrea Riseborough, Caleb Landry Jones, Tahar Rahim , Jay Baruchel and Bill Nighy

Written and directed by Lone Scherfig. A Vertical release.

Running time: 1:52

I have seen “JoJo” and “Little Women” twice. Think I’ll hit a second run house showing “Ford v Ferrari” late today.

Win or lose, they are worth seeing on the big screen.

The countdown has begun.

“Richard Jewell” is about to vanish until it turns up on streaming, same with “Bombshell,” “Beautiful Day” (already gone from most screens) and “JoJo” and “Little Women.”

These films will disappear from screens in a week or two.

If you didn’t think “Parasite” was the likely best picture winner, you probably didn’t think Bong Joon Ho was going to win best director.

But that was the give away. That old Oscar saying, the one that doesn’t hold true most years in this millennium, “Best Directors direct Best Pictures” called it.

First Best Picture winner in a language that isn’t English. Even “Crouching Tiger” didn’t manage that.

It was a movie about something — global income inequality, one of a handful of best pic nominees that could make that claim.

It was also one of the two or three best films of last year, according to critics, even those who might not think it was the Very Best. It was the Hollywood consensus pick on a night that a lot of pictures picked up an award or two –“Judy” and “Bombshell,” “JoJo Rabbit”and “Ford v Ferrari,” with “1917” and “Little Women” and “Once Upon a Time” and even “Marriage Story” collecting a little Oscar glory.

Netflix won best documentary, and not much else. “Honeyland” was the better film in category, in my opinion.

Laura Dern finished a well deserved victory lap, Renee Zellweger had another moment.

Do you expect that to lead to a comeback? Doubtful.

Dern had the speech of the night, Joaquin was appropriately out there, Zellweger did the last laundry list of agents and managers — ever.

Elton John almost croaked/sang his way OUT of an Oscar, a musical low of the night. The clock is ticking on Jillian Michaels going after Diane Warren.

Eminem didn’t show up to collect his Oscar way back when. Now that he’s as “over” as his pal Moby, he gets a pointless spotlight performance…of that same song?

Hildur Gudnadottir won the best score Oscar, for “Joker.” First time a woman has won that combined category.

“Toy Story 4” was the worst call of the evening, I thought. Lazy.

Scorsese got to take a bow as the most graceful of losers, “no host” moved the show along faster, “In Memoriam” left out TV star Robert Conrad, Luke Perry, Cameron Boyce and Sid Haig and others.

Loved the “Recap the Show in Rhyme.” The “Frozen” multilingual thing fell flat.

Joaquin rambled, although not as much as Renee, Laura gushed and Brad got emotional.

Whenever “Oscar so white,” the Oscars compensate with a vigorously diverse telecast.

Best presenters? Maya and Kristen. Aced it.

Worst. Well, leaving your costar out to dry like that wasn’t a good look for Shia.

The costumes, the celebrity appearances, the sea of vendors, the crowd that lets you know you’re in your tribe, and those lines — those endless lines.

Fan conventions, nothing like’em, right? They’re famous for the army of fans — and we’re not just talking about the 501st Legion — but what about the army it takes to put on a show for them?

“Surviving SuperCon” is a behind the scenes gander at the “mom and pop” operation that puts on the fast-growing, franchising Miami gathering of fans of sci-fi, comic book, anime and animation, wrestling, basically “anything you can think of in the geek genre,” as its co-founder, Michael Broder describes it.

It’s not as big as the New York Comic Con, or the San Diego one that dominates the sci-fi, fantasy, comic-book and horror film and TV calendar. But as it spreads out across the Southeast (Raleigh, Louisville) and beyond, here’s a look at how it all comes together, and the sort of things that can go wrong.

It’s not fan-focused, so while there’s footage of fans dressed as their favorite imaginary character (cosplay), enthusiasts gathered for panel discussions, “How to be a Voice Actor” workshops and star appearances from the likes of William Shatner and John Wesley Shipp (“The Flash”), what filmmaker Steven Shea was interested in was the folks pulling the strings, arranging the celebrity appearances and making this massive undertaking not a complete pain to the 50,000 or so who annually visit the South Florida event (in the Fort Lauderdale Convention Center in 2018).

The film focuses on the couple who founded and run the Miami event, Sandy Martin and Michael Broder. We hear them explain the undertaking and their attachment to it.

He was an indie film producer who needed to find a new money-making outlet. She was the organizer who made the trains run on time.

From angry phone calls to sighs of disappointment when this or that “special guest” is hired for an acting job and can’t come, or “sprained his wrist” (No autographs, kids!) to the comically inept “official” security company used by the center, “Surviving” tries to take it all in.

“Check badges, keep people safe, keep the line moving,” Sandy counsels the inexperienced security team at the gates. Just getting that simple task managed, training “people hired, at the last minute, through Goodwill” to “wand” guests, to know the difference between a weapon and a costume or “prop,” eats up a lot of “SuperCon.”

“Wooden bats are allowed. Most often, they’re with 15 year-old girls dressed as Harley Quinn.”

The backstage emphasis robs the film of much of its flavor. Still, the whole addition of wrestling to the festivities — Fantasy Super Cosplay Wrestling — is a fascinating avenue to explore.

The “big names” who attend such events don’t stand still for interviews (or didn’t sign wavers) aren’t really the focus. And there’s only so much that’s interesting about a lot of people fretting over video cables that aren’t long enough, thieves stealing passes or the new T-shirt vendors.

And a third act intrusion of real world events — the Parkland shooting — seems necessary, but off-topic and a tad self-serving. Yes, the company gives to charity.

The entire film, for all the flashes of temper, still feels “officially sanctioned” to a higher degree than you’d like. That’s the price you pay by leaning so heavily on two main interview subjects.

But if nothing else, “Surviving Supercon” makes a fine primer on the million things that have to be solved to make such an event come off, the scores of things that can go wrong and the commitment it takes to pull it off and make those lines move along.

Just don’t call it their “passion.”

“It’s not a passion,” Sandy Martin declares. “I’m obsessed. Obsession is what moves mountains!”

MPAA Rating: Unrated, lots and lots of profanity

Cast: Michael Broder, Sandy Martin, Terry Cronin

Credits: Written and directed by Steven Shea. An Abyssmal Entertainment release.

Running time: 1:34

“Goldie” isn’t easy to like. Not based on first impressions.

She’s brash, delusionally confident as she Instagram’s her latest update.

“I’m ’bout to BLOW UP! Goldie ready for TAKE OFF!”

As embodied by model/actress Slick Woods (“Love Advent”), Goldie is a teen tyro, all saffron buzzcut, tats and teeth — buck and gapped — big earrings, showing skin and blasting attitude.

A little talent show for the NYC shelter where she and her family live turns into a cheer-leading self-love/self-advertisement for “a music video, soon!”

“Chutzpah” isn’t just for the Jewish, because Goldie has a shtetl’s worth.

And when we see her dance in Sam de Jong’s character portrait, we shrug. Just turned 18, and there is nothing here that screams “STAR” or comes anywhere near the dream of “bout to BLOW UP.”

But as we follow her and see her story, we get an adult-sized dose of the desperation that makes her this way. Her mom (Marsha Stephanie Blake) did something to cost them their home. The lowlife (Danny Hoch) Mom is living with, in a SHELTER mind you, has no job save for selling drugs.

Goldie has two little sisters, Sherrie and Supreme (Alanna Renee Tyler-Tompkins and Jazmyn C Dorsey), that she dotes on and pulls into her dreams.

And she’s got a hook-up. Jay (Khris Davis) is going to get her into a music video for his friend, a rapper of some repute. All Goldie needs is that shot, and a bright yellow fur coat and ultra-revealing hot pants onesie she sees in store windows around the neighborhood.

When Mom gets arrested, the desperation spikes and Goldie drags us into the delusion — shoplifting, lying, bragging and hustling as she drags her siblings from friend to relative to friend “so Child Services doesn’t get them.”

Fired from the retail job she’s always late for?

“I’m not goin’ NOWHERE!”

Shunned by the shopkeeper who (wisely, it turns out) won’t let her try the coat of her dreams? Don’t MAKE her come back and bust a window to get it!

Woods rarely softens Goldie up for the viewer. But every now and then we see the bravado drop and her “hear” what the adults she consults and storms away from are telling her — “Child Services could help…What’s your PLAN?”

It’s all pinned to that video, “so me and my sisters can get out.”

The confrontations she storms out of, the risks she takes and the extremes she goes to make for an intimate tragedy. And Woods makes our heroine someone we warm to — if not right away — and more importantly, someone we won’t forget.

MPAA Rating: unrated, drug content, sex, theft, profanity

Cast: Slick Woods, George Sample III, Danny Hoch, Marsha Stephanie Blake, Alanna Renee Tyler-Tompkins and Jazmyn C Dorsey

Credits: Written and directed by Sam de Jong. A Film Movement release.

Running time: 1:28

Here it is, thanks to Sony Animation. Adorable.

Warner/DC’s lady birds bested “Bad Boys.” But the take, a measly $33 million, was 33-50% below projections.

That “Suicide Squad” hangover proves to be a bitch. That one opened at $133 million and comic book film fans haven’t forgotten.

For Margot Robbie and Co., at least the checks cleared. There aren’t likely to be any others in this franchise.

“Joker” I dare say the set the bar high but also scared some of the target audience away. More violent than fun seems to miss the comic book movie point.

“Bad Boys” and “1917” continue to add black ink, “Knives Out” is closing in on $175.

“Gentleman” fade, “The Rhythm Section” fades faster.

“Uncut Gems” will inch over the $50 million mark by mid week.

“The Lodge” had an impressive $13,000 per screen average. Will they open it any wider?