Movie Review: A writer, her mentor and “The Friend” Great Dane who takes over her life

You might have to be a dog lover to truly engage and “get” “The Friend,” a melancholy meditation on suicide, loss, character and our obligations to someone who has killed himself. And if you’re unsure about the depth of your connection to canines, there’s a scene early on in this downbeat dramedy that reunites “St. Vincent” stars Naomi Watts and Bill Murray that is your yardstick.

It’s the moment frustrated and “blocked” writer Iris meets the dog belonging to her late mentor, the famous writer Walter, who has just taken his own life.

Walter’s widow (Noma Dumezweni) has consigned the animal to a boarding kennel, talked up his civilized manners and good behavior, and played the “Walter wanted” “his best friend” to have Apollo card more than once.

Iris can’t have a dog in her rent-controlled apartment. She never knew Walter had a dog, something “his best friend” would have heard about. But Walter’s messy personal life — two ex-wives (Constance Wu and Carla Gugino), that widow, and a daughter (Sarah Pidgeon) who wasn’t the child of any of them — kind of explains that.

Iris might not even be a “dog person” herself. But she figures the widow’s something of a dog hater, even if she doesn’t guess that she lied about Apollo’s calm, apartment-friendly demeanor and probably made up the whole “Walter wanted you” to have the dog edict.

It’s not like that was in a suicide note.

And she should be insulted by the what widow Barbara figures were Walter’s “reasons” for wanting her to have the dog — “You don’t have kids or a partner” and her “job,” which isn’t going all that well, isn’t anything one couldn’t fit a dog into.

Still, all these other people the dog could go to, and “Walter wanted you” to have him?

But at the kennel, Iris sees what we see — a forlorn look in Apollo’s eyes. He is lost, bereft. The dog (named Bing) lets us in for that incredibly moving moment, and several almost-as-moving ones to follow.

That voice-over journal Iris keeps in her head ponders the imponderable in this.

“How can you explain death to a dog?”

“The Friend,” based on a novel by Sigrid Nunez, is about Iris coping with this enormous burden dropped into a life by a woman the viewer keeps hoping she’ll tell off, thanks to a dead guy who could also use a good dressing-down.

Did I mention the dog’s a Great Dane? He’s big enough to take over most apartments, even a roomy one that one and all describe to Iris as “tiny,” a flat she inherited from her father.

Co-writer/directors Scott McGeHee and David Siegel (“What Maise Knew” was theirs) deliver the obligatory big-dog-stuffed-into-a-small-dogless-life scenes — wrecking the apartment, taking ownership of the furniture. But the comedy here is in this is in the closed ecosystem of New York publishing, in the privileged writer-sentenced-to-academia teaching indulged, privileged students, younger reflections of herself, and in the “messy” love life of a writer-professor whom we soon learn slept with his students, in addition to the three wives he tallied.

Gugino is the long-divorced sage among the three wives, and even she is shocked to learn Walter has an adult daughter, one who joins Iris in the assignment of organizing and editing Walter’s correspondence — letters and emails — into a book. Wu is a hoot as “the irritating one,” the one the others don’t trust, even if she pays lip service to wanting the dog.

Josh Pais plays Walter’s faintly insufferable publisher, who wants that letters book finished, and who insists on reading pretentious poems at Walter’s funeral service and a later memorial scattering of the ashes.

Watts’ Iris copes with the rising threat of eviction, with efforts to “surrender the dog” to a Great Dane rescue group and with being “stuck” as she muses, in voice-over, about Walter, what he was like, what he was to her and what he had in mind sentencing her to take care of his dog.

It’s all a tad airless and comfortable, a tale too obsessed with its “Manhattan upper class problems” (beach houses, rented river tour boats, getting that “next book” out) to come to grips with the big theme hanging over all this.

The annoying aspiring writer college kids and even the Walter flashbacks and imagined “closure” encounters feel more like distractions than keys to the story.

Great Danes, like other very large dogs, don’t live long, Iris learns. What life, art and career lessons might Walter be passing on from beyond the grave by leaving stuck, blocked and yet comfortable Iris with this gigantic physical and emotional burden?

I liked the small moments of New Yorkers/Greenwich Villagers trying to hide their dismay, pity or amusement at the sight of the slight woman trying to get the big dog into an elevator or through a revolving door in a city that may be a lot more dog tolerant than it once was, but still is no place for a Great Dane.

“You must like’em big!”

I like the women’s world this picture creates, with Sue Jean Kim cast as a Columbia U. colleague and Ann Dowd as the sympathetic support-system neighbor. But “The Friend” is an uneven, not wholly satisfying experience in most ways.

Watts is mainly the underreactor at the center of all this in a performance that could have used some lighter touches. And Murray — whose casting got the movie made — is almost an afterthought as a character, a bit of a cad, disgraced, but with the saving grace of having saved and loved a dog.

One can’t help but think of that famous W.C. Fields quote about never working with “children or dogs,” because of their inate ability to upstage the ostensible “star” in any given scene. Because there’s nothing like a melancholy Great Dane with big, camera-friendly eyes for grabbing attention and drawing it away from everyone and everything surrounding him.

Every scene Apollo isn’t in we miss him, proving Fields’ point.

Rating: R, discussions of suicide, profanity

Cast: Naomi Watts, Bill Murray, Sarah Pidgeon, Constance Wu, Noma Dumezweni, Josh Pais and Carla Gugino.

Credits: Scripted and directed by Scott McGehee and David Siegel, based on the novel by Sigrid Nunez. A Bleecker Street release

Running time: 1:59

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Movie Review: “A Minecraft Movie,” whether we need it or not

Say this much for Warner Brothers. They got the tone for “Minecraft” right.

The studio that turned Scandinavian Lego building block toys into blockbuster animated movies goes all juvenile in adapting Sweden’s biggest gift to pop culture since ABBA, and the video game adaptation “A Minecraft Movie” hits its demographic sweetspot — 12-year-olds — hard.

They gave the directing job to Mister “Napoleon Dynamite,” Jared Hess, and cast human plush toy Jack Black as the cuddly, whooping and riffing lead and paired him up with Jason Momoa, basically a plush toy that hits the gym. Or has.

They threw five credited writers at a cutesie, formulaic quest comedy set on the gamescape of the world’s most popular video game, and if it weren’t for Jack Black parade of “WoooHOOOOOs” and Man Mountain Momoa’s comically cowardly “You go first, I’ll cover your six'” to a nerdy/shrimpy teen, they might not have managed to cook up a single memorable line of dialogue.

The “story” is overwhelmed by pages and pages game-explaining exposition, which considering its pre-sold nature to hundreds of millions who have played and loved the world-building game, whose ethos is “creativity over (mining for) gold),” seems pointless.

But here is game avatar Steve (Black), trapped in an alternate Overworld reality with his trusty dog Dennis send back to Earth through a portal in the hopes that someone will find the magic orbs the dog took with him and return to free Steve.

Momoa plays Garrett, the greatest gamer in the world in 1989, now broke and running the Game Over World video game store in Chuglass, Idaho. That’s where Nathalie (Emma Myers) and her quirky, creative younger brother Henry (Sebastian Hansen) relocate, and where Henry starts to stand out for all the worst reasons among his dull classmates, standing up for “the math” that makes jetpacks possible.

“My Dad says math has been DEBUNKED!”

Henry finds himself begging Garrett to be a mentor, and pretend to be his guardian when the kid’s jetback experiment is sabotaged by bullying morons.

Finding Overworld orbs, they run off to an abandoned mine where they tumble into a portal, and sister Natalie and real-estate-agent/petting zoo operator Dawn (Danielle Brooks) tumble with them.

They find themselves in a world of block creatures, block people and block construction generated by tokens, talismen and the like in what dopey Garrett realizes is a game setting before everybody else.

A quest gets underway, Steve is freed and before you know it, he’s leading them far afield and referring to his now-sidekick Garrett as “Gar Gar,” which rhymes with Jar Jar as they try to evade zombies and pig minions of the evil Malgosha (voiced by Rachel House).

Black and Momoa and Jennifer Coolidge, playing another variation of her oversexed MILF persona as the school principal, commit to the their roles and raise the bar for how hammy and over-the-top this picture will be performed. The energy level these three bring to this picture is one of the great endorsements of Screen Actor’s Guild professionalism and a testament to Hess’s probably enthusiastic encouragment off camera.

Yeah, the script is crap-by-committee, but there’s no sense in us cashing our checks like we know that.

Chases, explosions, diamonds and this or that accessory/magical token or what have you pop up, no doubt delighting fans as much as the news that a wrestling match involve Garrett has him facing a “Chicken (looks like a duck) Jockey.”

That arrival brought a roar from the crowd I saw the film with.

And I don’t doubt the film’s sparkling “Labryrinth” and “Lego Movie” meets “Pixels” candy coored production design, the B-52s “My Own Private Idaho” comical needle drop in the middle of the Mark Mothersbaugh (of course) score and the many, many inside-the-game references and the constant mugging and whooping by the leads will appeal to some of those who’ve enjoyed the game.

There’s validation in wringing a “movie” with a “story” out of a video game, but that’s mainly in the eyes of the devotees of Sonic or Steve.

Harmless nonsense this may be, but if you’re under the impression it does a wildly popular, award-winning “creativity” game justice, you’d have to be right on the demographic money in terms of who the picture is pitched to — 12 years-old.

Rating: PG

Cast: Jack Black, Jason Momoa, Emma Myers, Sebastian Hansen, Jennifer Coolidge and Danielle Brooks

Credits: Directed by Jared Hess, scripted by Chris Bowman, Hubbel Palmer, Neil Weidener, Gavin James and Chris Galleta . A Warner Bros. release.

Running time: 1:41

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Movie Review: Hoteliers turn “Carjackers” on their Lunch Break

“Good villains make good thrillers,” the Master of Suspense taught us. And nobody loved Alfred Hitchcock or took his lessons to heart like the French.

“Carjackers” has a doozy of a bad guy. And we know actor Franck Gastambide‘s status in staff-robs-rich-hotel-guests-on-the-road thriller because he plays the figure we meet first.

Gastambide, who was in the recent French remake of “The Wages of Fear,” plays Elias. And we meet him at a casino where he pulls a seemingly-well-heeled older player into a back room to do what “we do to pickpockets.” As it turns out Elias isn’t a cop, imagine the worst.

He’s a private security investigator, enforcer and punisher. So naturally he’s the guy a swank seaside hotel calls when it looks as if somebody’s targeting their rich guests for carjackings as they leave the property.

Nora, Steve, Zoé and Pres (Zoé Marchal, Bosh, Chilla and Alassane Diong) are a parking valet, bellman, concierge and bartender, respectively at their exclusive hotel. But it’s their side hustle, selecting a mark and carrying out an armed robbery on a freeway so busy nobody stops to intervene that is their retirement plan.

Concierge Zoé selects likely candidates from the various guests’ names and profiles. Steve pokes around the in-room safe to confirm how loaded they are. Barman Pres notes their choice of liquor and tips. But Nora (Marchal, of “All Time High”) is the driving force behind this operation. She’s the one who takes the wheel of the Golf GTI that they run down Audis, Merc limo vans and Maybachs, with Steve on the motorbike shooting out the tires.

They don’t do this often, generally one heist/one hotel a season. And they’re aiming for that “one last job” that will be the big score that will set them up for the sweet life.

But these have-nots stealing from the haves haven’t counting on Hotel Oligarch calling in Elias.

“I want the files of your staff, your guests and all the people you’re bribing,” he barks (in French with subtitles, or dubbed into English). And that latest victim, a rapist diamond merchant from Amsterdam, wants “proof” that this quartet has been stopped. He’s paying extra to see to it that the furious woman driver who tased his testicules is dead.

The plot is simple enough, variations on that staff-stealing-from-targeted guests thing we’ve seen in other films such as the more sinister and political German thriller “Delicious.” There isn’t any “rob from the rich, give to the poor” subtext here. “Carjackers” is all text, no subtext.

Complications include the all-business Nora letting the new hotel piano player (Disiz) distract her and letting her emotions — a fellow staffer was sexually assaulted by the Dutch diamond dealer — drive her actions.

Her accomplices are treated like background decor, and the picture’s shift from heists to being hunted and facing repercussions dominates the third act and ups the stakes in the most simplistic and sadistic ways.

But director and co-writer Kamel Guemra (he co-wrote the sizzling “Lost Bullet”) keeps the picture more or less on task between crackling action beats, and stunt driving coordinator Jean-Claude Lagniez reminds us that the French still have the edge in serving up riveting car chases.

And Gastambide makes us fear the worst when he catches up with people who, you have to admit, kind of having it coming.

It isn’t “Bullitt” or “The French Connection,” but “Carjackers” delivers on the promise of its simple premise and its simple title. But maybe I’m prejudiced because I love Golf GTIs.

Rating: 16+, graphic violence, sex, profanity

Cast: Zoé Marchal, Franck Gastambide, Bosh, Chilla, Alassane Diong and
Disiz.

Credits: Directed by Kamel Guemra, scripted by Morade Aissaoui, Sledge Bidounga and Kamel Guemra. An MGM release on Amazon Prime.

Running time: 1:37

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Netflixable? Vincent Cassel’s a Burned Out DJ who May Have One More “Banger” in Him

The DJ has been mixing beats long enough to have lost his hair, and have his stubble turn white.

It’s been a long time since he acquired the nickname, “The Godfather of French Touch,” even longer since he was Emperor of Ibaza and King of All the Clubs. The man’s on the back nine of his career, if not his life. Scorpex, as he bills himself, could use a hit, a real “Banger” that’d put him on the charts and back in demand.

But the 50something Frenchman knows his stuff. It’s in his blood. When Scorpex tries a new droplet drug called Angel Rocket, he trips his testicules off, collapsing on somebody’s Citroen down the street from the club. But as the car alarm claxon wails off and on, he adds a beat with his fingers, drumming on the car’s hood, making music even there.

The pleasure of that whimsical moment is doubled by the fact that the great French actor Vincent Cassel, of “Mesrine,” “The Three Musketeers,” “Trance” and a whole lot of movies you and I have loved performs it.

Long review short, “Banger” is strictly formula, a B-movie action comedy with a few laughs and barely an original touch to it. But Cassel is funny and brings a welcome lightness to his role. And immersing a player with his resume and almost-60-years in this milieu is kind of a Dad Joke lark.

Kanye music video director So-Me knows this world, at the intersection of music, dance and fashion shows. But all he and a couple of co-writers could come up with was genre cliches for a story.

Consider — DJ Scorpex is discussed by a French drug agent (Laura Felpin) who has to “explain” to a clueless 40ish colleague what DJs are, what they do and how they make their money fifty freaking years after the birth of hip hop, accompanied by rap, techno, trance, etc.

The agents blackmail Scorpex, real name Luis, into helping them ID and photograph a mysterious drug underworld kingpin, Dricus. How many times have we seen that screenwriter crutch trotted out? The authorities will wipe Luis’s unpaid tax debts if he does this.

“No risk involved,” Agent Rose assures him (in French with subtitles, or dubbed. But watch it in French).

Scorpex has a protege who stole his “X” and became the club superstar of the moment as Vestax (Mister V), and he’s who the French feds are watching for his Dricus connection.

There’s a Russian mobster named Molo, short for Molotov (Alexis Manenti, funny and scary) whom Vestax is close with, a guy with a musical agenda and a hook-up for a big fashion show gig. Scorpex has to pal around with Vestax until Molo decides it was his idea all along to book a “Double X” gig with the two for that fashion show, which the feds figure is where a big drug mob “meet” will happen.

And Scorpex has an adult daughter (Nina Zem) who would like to have a closer connection with her father as she dabbles in DJing and mixing, fashion modeling and painting. Scorpex needs to protect her as he backs into this “espionage” gig, all the while hoping for a fresh break that’ll mark his “comeback.” Not that he’d call it that.

He’s memorized the has-been’s mantra — “I never LEFT!”

The action is limited and goofy — a game of “Name that Tune” that involves teams throwing knives at the DJ who can’t “Name that Tune,” hanging-out-the-car-door torture, drinking and drugging binges. other “tests” by the mobsters and the like.

Nope. Nothing much new to see here.

But watch how Cassel’s Luis lies and charms a blundering DJ away from the turntables in a way that allows the kid to save face and never know he’s having an off night. Pick up on the fatherly advice to younger performers from the guy who was an absentee dad.

Watch him piss off a generation “snowflake” vocalist, only to pull a brassy Black fashion designer (Déborah Lukumuena) into the studio on a whim. She’s full-figured and Black, she must rap, right? And have grievances to rap about?

And chuckle at the invention of that blitzed musical moment on a Citroen’s hood.

The music drops are good enough to pass muster, and the peformances mostly transcend the tried and trite story and the frankly pedestrian direction.

That makes “Banger” not quite the banger it was supposed to be.

But Cassel has the moves and the “Ibiza abs” to pull it off, from dancing at the turntables to shooting pool in the nude (An homage to Inspector Clouseau?) as one last Russian mob “test” — a novel way to figure out if Scorpex is a snitch and wearing a wire.

Rating: TV-MA, drugs, smoking, profanity

Cast: Vincent Cassel, Laura Felpin, Mister V, Alexis Manenti, Nina Zem and Déborah Lukumuena

Credits: Directed by So-Me, scripted by So-Me, Elias Belkeddar and Baptiste Fillon. A Netflix release.

Running time: 1:31

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Movie Review: A Dark Period in Korean History Remembered — “Harbin”

“Harbin” is a stately, somewhat tense Korean period piece bathed in the gloom that hangs over many an espionage thriller.

Director and co-writer Woo Min-ho already has conventional thrillers (“The Drug King”), period piece thrillers (“The Man Standing Next”) and political thrillers (“Inside Men”) on his resume. Here he focuses on the last conflict between historical enemies Korea and Japan, taking us into Korean resistance to Imperial Japan’s annexation of the peninsula in the early 20th century.

The men and women involved in the Korean Independence Army were determined to upend Japan’s latest conquest of their homeland, because they know who writes history — the winners.

“If Japan writes our history, no one will remember us,” one fighter (Jo Woo-jin) intones, in Korean with English subtitles.

Japan, fresh off a decisive victory in the Russo-Japanese war of 1904-05, forced the Korean emperor to abdicate in 1907 and those fighting their occupation were already years into the sacrifice that required by 1909. At this point, many involved were all-in on fighting back until victory, the film tells us. But it suggests that for many, they’d already reached the point where they were fighting mainly to ensure that those who already died didn’t do so in vain.

“Will we be remembered?” is a major theme of this retelling of the story of an effort to assassinate Japan’s prime minister, Itō Hirobumi, the ultimate revenge for the Japanese massacres and racist attempts to erase Korean names, language and culture already under way.

The Independence Army has had successes and defeats, the latest of which has them questioning General Ahn Jung-geun‘s (Hyun Bin) leadership and even his loyalty after he released Japanese prisoners after a victory, only to be tormented by the enraged released officer Lt. Col. Mori (Park Hoon).

“Trust” and mistrust underscore this “operation,” as the Japanese, working with the Russians, use every means necessary to protect their prime minister (character actor Lily Franky of “Shoplifters” fame), who is traveling through China to Russia and a meeting about Japan’s “annexation” of Korea. Harbin, a city that changed hands from Manchurian to Russian to Japanese to Chinese, is one of the stops on this trip.

There is a “mole” in the Korean movement. Plans are made and dashed and remade. Sacrifices will be demanded and treachery will be exposed.

And the Japanese would still occupy their Korean “colony” until they lost WWII in 1945.

The film’s stately pace between accomplished, visceral scenes of winter combat, street ambushes and the like allows us to appreciate the grey-scale production design by Gunda Bergmane and crisp overcoats and hats provided by Katrina Liepa to the actors who play the men and women who have roles in this bloody scheme.

Hyun Bin impresses as the lead, letting us question the character’s judgement and motives before embracing the way the film sees him — as one of the great heroes of Korea’s modern history. Jeon Yeo-been makes her version of the war widow “Ms. Gong” a reserved figure who rises to the occasion for a chance to ensure her late husband’s sacrifice will be remembered.

Franky lends a noble tone to the prime minister, perhaps blinded by racism, who sees Japan raising Koreans’ standard of living as Japan absorbs their land and their population.

And Park Hoon (“Memories of the Alhambra”) makes a hissable villain, the Japanese officer obsessed with avenging his “honor” and loss of face for being captured, ignoring his ignoble methods and summary murders of civilians and anybody else who stands in Imperial Japan’s way.

The slow pace of the picture kills any ticking-clock tension that might have been generated by foes racing towards a confronation. There’s not much visual urgency to any of this.

And the slower a film is, the more anachronisms you notice in a period piece. “Mole” was a term introduced to the public by spy novelist John le Carre in the ’70s. Train stations didn’t have eletronic PA sytems in 1909, because Magnovox didn’t invent them until 1915. The hats and many haircuts seem out of their time, too.

But “Harbin” still rises to the level of “solid,” in thriller terms, and fascinating in historical ones. Centuries of conflict between Japan and Korea — with Japan the aggressor — have led to a lot of Korean historical epics about land and naval battles, and to this intriguing and always watchable espionage thriller about an assassination attempt much of the world has never heard about.

Rating: unrated, bloody violence

Cast: Hyun Bin, Park Jeong-min, Jo Woo-jin, Jeon Yeo-been, Jung Woo-sung, Park Hoon and Lily Franky 

Credits: Directed by Woo Min-ho, scripted by Kim Min-seong and Woo Min-ho. A Well Go USA release.

Running time: 1:54

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Val Kilmer: 1959-2025

Val Kilmer was, as many an obituary reminds us today, the poster boy for “difficult actor.”

A true maverick, particular and ever-so-serious about his art, probably taking too many “go your own way” lessons from his idol, the post-peak Marlon Brando, he dazzled in some roles and probably should have dazzled in more. But he argued himself out of jobs and “Tombstone,” “The Doors,” “Heat,” “The Ghost and the Darkness,” “Alexander,” “Spartan” and “Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang” weren’t repeated dozens of times, as they might have been.

I interviewed him once when “Wonderland,” a lesser effort in which he managed to make a good impression. But the real delight of his later years was this wonderful, self-explantory, self-mocking memoir that came out back in 2020.

Track down “I’m Your Huckleberry” (here’s a link to my review of that) and you’ll have an appreciation for how he turned out the way he did, a mercurial talent who wore out his Hollywood welcome long before his health faded. He was a real character. RIP.

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Movie Preview: The horrific choice facing Sally Hawkins? “Bring Her Back”

May 3, A24 takes another shot at having a horror hit this spring.

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Series Review: Is this any way to run “The Studio?”

If you’re a movie buff, of COURSE you’re loading up that trial subscription to Apple TV+ to catch “The Studio,” a cinema-loving and best-joke-on-set-wins silly spin on the messy way movies are made and the sniveling, lying cowards who make them.

Not the directors and actors, mind you. They have their “vision,” their talent, their “genius” and their box office appeal to lean on.

No, “The Studio” is focued on the “talentless, faceless empty suit(s)” who make the decisions — or in the case of series co-creator and star Seth Rogen, playing an “idealistic” and ars gratia artis (MGM’s slogan) studio chief, not making decisions.

One aide and surbordinate after another shouts at new Continental Studios chief Matt Remick “That’s your ONLY job” about tough budget calls, “notes” to actors or directors about changes and his need to stand up to the Big Boss, the smarmy, less clueless than he seems CEO played by Bryan Cranston.

But movie-lover Matt, finally in the job he dreamed of since taking the Continental Studios tour as a teen, can’t make himself do it. He equivocates, flatters to the moon and beats around the bush rather than demanding this film be cut or that “franchise” idea — featuring the Kool-Aid man — be abandoned.

“Why do you keep lying?” is the only question that matters. And “The Studio” makes plain that the only answer that fits is cowardice. Everybody here is getting rich doing something they figure “matters,” that the one good movie they might make out of 23 “will last forever.” They will lie to every face they see to cling to that status and that illusion.

“The Studio” is a well-cut, well-cast sitcommy riff on Robert Altman’s “The Player,” a film that calls attention to its own long-take shots (“The Oner”), the obsession with “magic hour,” the insecurity that makes “suits” fret when they aren’t invited to Charlize Theron’s party, the actors — some of whom know more than we credit — who take on “producer” mantles and still refuse to grow the spine that the suits lack to make hard decisions.

Telling Ron Howard his “Alphabet City” is killed by a long, dull anticlimax, telling that studio CEO that Kool-Aid is a worthless piece of “IP” (intellectual property), enduring the unfiltered haragangues of the “I can’t SELL this s–t!” marketing chief (Kathryn Hahn, straight up “delulu,” first scene to last) are all part of that “one job.”

Matt just wants to be loved — by talent, in front of and behind the camera. But he quickly learns, with a CEO pushing hard on this Kool-Aid idea, with Martin Scorsese pitching a pricey “Jonestown” epic starring Steve Buscemi, a film with its own “Kool-Aid” problems, the ousted studio chief (Catherine O’Hara, “You made me curse! You know I quit!”) angling to keep her own career going, that “loved” isn’t happening.

His “best friend” and right-hand man exec Sal (Ike Barinholtz) can’t temper his enthusiasm, even when Matt wants to make suggestions on a tense “magic hour” long take day on the set of a Sarah Polley picture starring Greta Lee.

Scene after scene has a familiar ring as the scripts tie into Hollywood lore and Hollywood accepted wisdom. “Ron Howard is the nicest guy in Hollywood.” “Bookends” and “long takes” and “magic hour” matter only to serious cinephiles. And yes, 115 years after its colonization, Hollywood is still laughably, disproportionally Jewish.

“And they say there’s no more Jews working in Hollywood,” roars David Krumholtz, an ultra abrasive and unfiltered “What Makes Sammy Run?” agent that Jewish Matt and Jewish Sal need to make their deals.

We glimpse the “power” these convertible-drivers insist they have, and see them talked back to by projectionists, production assistants and even parking lot security. Ego, pretension, fear and cynicism fuel the people who drive the business just as surely as this week’s trendy smoothie or small batch…vermouth.

Apple plugs, Netflix shots, “this is NOT an A24 movie…not for a bunch of pansexual mixologists living in Bed-Stuy,” “Studio” is a series for people who love movies and stream them by the barrel-full.

Matt’s solitude is played up — it’s lonely at the top, in the hilltop houses that look down on greater LA, dating is a tad…fraught in his cash and status range. His status jumps about, from episode to episode, even as his confidence doesn’t. He’s driving a vintage MGB convertible in “The Promotion,” the first episode, visits a set later in an upgrade — a Triumph Herald convertible — a ’53 Corvette comes up later, a ’70s Alfa Romeo Spider, etc., all as Matt struggles with his sheepishness as he tries to learn to throw his weight around.

Rogen plays a self-aware version of himself here. The Rogen on TV chat shows or that journalists like me have interviewed laughs a lot — nervously. That insecurity is on open display here, a guy confident he can do the job until the instant he gets it, struggling to be “liked” when he’s fated to enrage Ron Howard, make Martin Scorsese cry and never ever get invited “back” to a Charlize Theron party, chuckling and chuckling through the fear and pain. With a side dose of paranoia.

The knowing winks about “shooting on film,” the play-acting of film-as-art poseur in charge of a studio, add texture and connect the series with Hollywood gossip. The laughs come from cringy twists on accepted wisdom about how movies are made and the sorts of filmmakers — foot fetishist Tarantino jokes, Olivia Wilde making “enemies” on a set, a sketchy version of Zac Efron — who have “reputations.”

Matt may play-act a film noir private eye when a crime happens on set. And Rogen makes us feel that genuine terror, for any interloper — exec or extra or journalist allowed to make a “set visit” — that you’ll ruin the take and earn the wrath of a director, an even more tantrum-prone producer or worst yet, a highly-strung star.

The idea is showing the viewer how so many mediocre movies get made, and so few great ones. Filmmaking by committee, when veto power lies in the hands of a few sniveling cowards, all of whom assume they know more than the “artists,” guarantees it. Ageist egotists who fear ageism themselves, power and promotion coveting execs who tremble at being thought “old,” “passe” or “lame” in a trend-chasing industry, no one here deserves a Get Out of Therapy Free card.

“The Studio” may not offer much in the way of surprises, but that crackling cast delivers rat-a-tat funny dialogue. Rogen, front and center in front of and behind the camera, learned his craft from Judd Apatow and Paul Feige, so “best joke on the set wins” banter abounds. It’s every bit as entertaining as the pitch and the trailers led us to expect.

If there’s a fault, it’s that it lacks the inside knowledge “edge” that TV’s “Flacks” or “Hacks” offer up. The crises are all in the heads of people with inflated attitudes about what they do and how important it is.

Krumholtz’s grating and archetypal agent is as close as this series ever gets to “touching that third rail,” to saying “the quiet part out loud,” that Hollywood might be the way it is because it’s as incestuously Jewish as it’s always been, for good or ill. More “what your Jew said” what from Krumholtz would have been edgier than anything served up here.

But if you love movies, here’s a laugh-out-loud confirmation of what you’ve heard or believed about how “the magic” is made, often in spite of the worst impulses, instincts and failings of those who make it.

Rating: TV-MA, profanity

Cast: Seth Rogen, Kathryn Hahn, Ike Barenholtz, Catherine O’Hara, Chase Sui Wonders, Martin Scorsese, Ron Howard, Sarah Polley, Charlize Theron, Greta Lee, Anthony Mackie, Steve Buscemi, many others

Credits: Created by Alex Gregory, Evan Goldberg, Peter Hyuck, Frida Perez and Seth Rogen. An Apple TV+ release.

Running time: Ten episodes @:25-46 minutes each

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Movie Preview: Shia LaBeouf is a Bad Irish influence on a lad who might be “Salvable”

Toby Kebbel, Aiysha Hart, Barry Ward and James Cosmo also star in this drama of backstreet brawling and burgling.

British made, Irish-accented? We’re intrigued.

May 2.

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Movie Preview: Patricia Clarkson goes to war with Goodyear — “Lilly”

A Supreme Court case from back when it was a legitimate branch of government is the basis for this “true story” of the lesser wages, sexual harrassment and general abuse Lilly Ledbetter faced at The Biggest Tire Company.

The always-formidable Clarkson slings a pretty good Alabama drawl for this role.

Blue Harbor is releasing this one May 9.

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