Aug. 23, 2025 Tiny Arcade

Digging Into Nostalgia
My Love for Dig Dug

When I was a little tyke, there were two constants in life: gravity would always make me fall off my bike, and Dig Dug would always eat my quarters. Well… not literal quarters. Growing up in a rural area, I didn’t exactly have access to arcades. My battlefield was the living room carpet, my weapon was an Atari 2600 joystick, and my opponent was the occasional Fygar who always seemed just a little too good at breathing fire through dirt. For the uninitiated, Dig Dug is that glorious 1982 Namco creation where you play a tiny fellow who spends his days digging tunnels and his nights explaining to OSHA why dropping boulders on things counts as a “safety strategy.” Your adversaries are Pookas (red blobs with goggles) and Fygars (dragons who breathe fire underground, because physics apparently took the day off). The goal is simple: eliminate all enemies. The methods are questionable. You can either jab them with your handy pump and inflate them like grotesque parade balloons, or lure them under a rock and let gravity do the dirty work. Either way, points for creativity. Fast forward to today. I don’t have a dedicated Dig Dug cabinet in my tiny little arcade (space is precious — popcorn takes priority), but I do have a Pac-Man Pixel Bash machine that includes it. Which means Dig Dug is technically here, tucked away behind Pac-Man like a secret bonus track on a cassette tape. Only this time, I get to experience it as it was meant to be played — standing up, joystick in hand, arcade sounds all around. Playing it now feels like reconnecting with an old friend — the kind who still makes you laugh but also reminds you how terrible you are at multitasking. One second you’re digging left to lure a Fygar, the next second you’re realizing that ghosts passing through walls is still completely unfair. Some things never change. So if you swing by the theater, grab your popcorn, catch a film, and then sneak over to the arcade. Fire up the Pixel Bash and hunt for Dig Dug. Just know you’re stepping into my childhood battleground, where I lost countless lives and gained absolutely no transferable life skills. Unless, of course, inflating dragons with a bicycle pump ever becomes a marketable trade.

Brandon Goding

Aug. 10, 2025 Theater Ops

Back to Basics
Our Autumn Plan

When we first opened the candy shop, we had big dreams. We pictured a fun little spot that was open during the day, bringing in people who might not even be coming for a movie. A place you could swing by for a bag of popcorn or a box of sweets just because. But life happens. Both of us ended up with new 9–5 jobs, and the idea of keeping daytime candy shop hours just wasn’t realistic anymore. Still, we kept trying—offering a big selection, stocking up on drinks and candy for what we hoped would be a busy summer. Except… summer didn’t exactly cooperate. Attendance was slow, maybe because the weather was so nice, maybe because Hollywood keeps churning out the same kinds of movies that just aren’t drawing crowds right now. Or maybe I’m just bad at picking them. Either way, we were left with shelves full of product and cash flow feeling the pinch. We decided to scale back. For the rest of the summer, we’re going back to basics: a good selection of core products and traditional theater snacks. No overstocking, no overcomplicating. Just doing the essentials—and doing them well. We even took the candy shelves down, which surprisingly opened up the lobby and gave it a nice, clean, open feel. Next step—getting our “Coming Soon” movie posters back up where they belong. It’s not just the candy shop that’s changing—our movie lineup is, too. Most of the films we booked this summer came with a three-week required run. In a small town, that’s tough. By week two, almost everyone who wants to see it already has, and by week three… well, let’s just say I get a lot of alone time. June’s lineup was packed with remakes and sequels: Snow White, Lilo & Stitch, How to Train Your Dragon (both remakes), Mission: Impossible, Jurassic World: Rebirth, Karate Kid Legends—all sequels from tired franchises. Add in Thunderbolts, Superman, and Fantastic Four, and it was a summer heavy on superheroes and light on surprises. So, we’re switching things up for the next few weeks. I’ve been told horror movies perform well in Fort Kent, though I haven’t had much luck with them personally—probably because I don’t watch them myself and never quite know what to book. But I’m giving it a shot. Coming soon: Weapons, The Conjuring: Last Rites, and the new I Know What You Did Last Summer. I also booked The Toxic Avenger—not exactly horror, but it’s bloody and gory enough to keep the horror fans happy. And because balance is important, I’ve also lined up a few films that are just plain good stories: The Senior, Truth & Treason, and Downton Abbey: The Grand Finale. Sometimes you have to experiment. Sometimes you have to scale back. And sometimes you have to do both at the same time. That’s where we’re at right now—simplifying where it makes sense, and taking a few risks where it might just pay off.

Brandon Goding

Aug. 8, 2025 Theater Ops

Thinking Outside the Box
Amazon affiliate links

Running a small-town movie theater isn’t just about picking films and making popcorn — sometimes it’s about finding creative ways to keep the lights on and the heat running when winter rolls around. Oil prices don’t exactly drop when the snow starts falling, so I’ve been looking for new ideas to help cover the basics without raising ticket prices. One idea I’m trying? Amazon affiliate links. It’s simple — if you rent or buy a movie through one of my links, I earn a small commission. It doesn’t cost you a penny more, but those little bits add up and help keep Fort Kent Cinema going strong. It’s also a perfect fit for our next feature. From September 5th through 18th, we’ll be playing The Conjuring: Last Rites. If you haven’t kept up with the Conjuring universe — or you just want a good scare refresher — you can catch up on the earlier films right from home. Here are my affiliate links to rent them on Prime Video: 🎥 The Conjuring – https://amzn.to/4fuk2y5 🎥 The Conjuring 2 – https://amzn.to/3Hq0huU 🎥 The Conjuring 3 – https://amzn.to/4mstnZi 🎥 The Nun – https://amzn.to/46Qq4H6 🎥 The Nun II – https://amzn.to/3J6HNjA 🎥 Annabelle Creation – https://amzn.to/45diFAs 🎥 Annabelle – https://amzn.to/4m2HvZD 🎥 Annabelle Comes Home – https://amzn.to/4m7sBBd Every rental helps, and I truly appreciate the support. Whether you’re braving all the jump scares at home or waiting to see Last Rites on the big screen, thank you for being part of what keeps this little theater alive. See you at the movies (or online until then).

Brandon Goding

July 26, 2025 Rick's Reviews

Fantastic Enough
A Review of The Fantastic Four (20250

Let me start with a confession: I’ve got a soft spot for underdogs. And no superhero team has spent more time at the bottom of the Marvel popularity pyramid than the Fantastic Four. For a group with “Fantastic” in their name, their track record on the big screen has been, well… not. So it’s with cautious optimism that I walked into Marvel’s latest reboot—The Fantastic Four, released July 25th, 2025—and I’m happy to report: they finally got it mostly right. Director Matt Shakman (yes, the WandaVision guy) steps behind the camera to deliver a version of the Four that doesn’t feel like it was cobbled together in a lab by studio executives hoping to cash in on nostalgia. This one has heart, humor, and—brace yourselves—actual chemistry between the leads. The film wisely sidesteps another slow-burning origin story. Instead, we’re dropped into a world where the Four already exist, operating more like elusive urban legends than costumed crusaders. Think The Incredibles meets Contact. John Krasinski, returning from his cameo in Doctor Strange and the Multiverse of Madness, takes on Reed Richards full-time here, and leans hard into the weary genius archetype. His Reed is part Einstein, part dad-joke dispenser, which somehow works. Sue Storm is played by Vanessa Kirby, and she steals every scene she’s in—not with flash, but with that grounded, commanding presence you want from the Invisible Woman. For once, she’s more than just the team’s emotional glue. Joseph Quinn (of Stranger Things fame) brings his Eddie Munson charisma to Johnny Storm, aka the Human Torch. He's cocky, combustible, and constantly seconds away from setting something on fire, usually on purpose. And then there’s Ben Grimm, The Thing, portrayed by Paul Walter Hauser, who brings a surprising amount of soul to the rock-solid bruiser. He’s gruff, grumpy, and delivers the iconic “It’s clobberin’ time” without making you cringe. No small feat. The villain? That would be Galactus. Yes, that Galactus. And, mercifully, he’s not a space cloud this time. Voiced with ominous gravitas by Giancarlo Esposito, he looms large—literally and narratively—as a godlike threat on a cosmic scale. But Shakman doesn’t turn this into a full-blown disaster movie. Instead, the film plays like a sci-fi adventure with shades of Spielberg, where awe and terror go hand in hand. Of course, no Marvel outing would be complete without government agents meddling, portals opening, and a tease of things to come. But The Fantastic Four works best in its quieter moments: Reed and Sue arguing over ethics and time travel, Ben trying to eat shawarma without breaking the table, Johnny using his powers to toast a bagel. It’s not flawless. The second act drags a bit, and the film can’t resist stuffing in cameos like it’s assembling the cinematic equivalent of an Avengers potluck. But for once, the Fantastic Four don’t feel like a prelude. They feel like a team. More importantly, they feel like a family. And in today’s multiversal madness, that’s a refreshing thing to see.

AI Rick

July 20, 2025 Theater Ops

🎬 Behind the Scenes:
How I Choose Movies

One of the questions I get asked the most—usually right after “When are you getting that movie?”—is how I actually decide what we show at Fort Kent Cinema. So I thought I’d pull the curtain back a little and share what the process looks like. Spoiler alert: it’s part data, part instinct, and part standing in the lobby trying to remember what three different people told me about upcoming films. 🗓️ Step 1: What’s Coming Out? My starting point is usually the IMDb release calendar, which is a pretty handy tool for seeing what’s hitting theaters each week. I look ahead and mark anything that might line up with an open slot in our schedule. It gives me a rough idea of what’s even possible. Not everything on that list is available to us. Sometimes a movie’s distribution isn’t wide enough to reach small-town theaters like ours right away, or the licensing costs don’t make sense for a short run. But it’s a good place to start. 🧠 Step 2: Mental Notes from the Lobby The next part is a little less official—but maybe more important. When people stop by the ticket counter, or I bump into someone at the grocery store, they’ll often mention a movie they saw a trailer for or read about online. I do my best to remember those titles (admittedly, I should probably write them down), and if enough folks ask about the same one, I try to prioritize it when the timing works out. Sometimes I can get it right away. Sometimes I can’t. I’m hesitant to book films too late because these days they hit streaming almost immediately—and by then, most people have already watched it from their couch. Still, if there’s strong enough demand, I’ll do my best to bring it in. 🤪 A Personal Pick: The New Naked Gun That all being said... sometimes I pick a movie just because I want to see it. I’ve booked the new Naked Gun movie, and it’s honestly for me. Growing up, I adored Leslie Nielsen, Mel Brooks, and anything with that Monty Python-style absurdity. I wanted to be in those movies. I dreamed about joining the Monty Python troupe, not realizing they’d been around long before I was even born. So yeah, this one’s for younger me. If you see me laughing louder than anyone else in the theater, now you’ll know why. 🎟️ Striking a Balance Choosing what to play is always a bit of a dance—between what’s available, what people want, and what we think will bring folks out for a night at the movies. I don’t always get it perfect, but I hope it shows that I care deeply about trying. Because Fort Kent Cinema isn’t just a screen and some seats—it’s a place for shared stories, memories, and a little joy. And sometimes, it’s a place to revisit the kind of humor that shaped who you are. See you at the movies, — Brandon

Brandon Goding

July 17, 2025 Theater Tech

🎬 Behind the Screens:
How Our Website Actually Works

For a long time, you couldn’t tell it by our website, but Ana and I are both web developers. www.century.theater, and now www.fortkentcinema.com, was always our last priority. It was very much a “cobbler’s kids have no shoes” situation. But recently, I’ve been able to spend a little more time on it. And I’m finally at a place where I’m proud of how it looks—and how it works. I thought it might be fun to pull back the curtain and show how the website for this small-town movie theater runs on a surprising mix of modern web tech and good old-fashioned Maine thriftiness. ⚙️ A Site Built with Scraps and Intention We don’t have a marketing team. Or a budget for fancy hosting. But I’m a tinkerer, and Ana’s a designer with a degree from Husson and a great eye—though I try not to bug her too much with my fun little side projects. So I built the site myself using Tailwind CSS, which lets me throw together something clean and usable without needing to call in the design cavalry. The frontend—the part of the site you interact with—is built with React and Vite. These are tools you’ll find in a lot of modern startups. They make the site quick to load and easy to keep updated. I host it all on Amazon S3 with CloudFront in front, so it loads fast whether you’re checking showtimes from Fort Kent or from your campsite down the valley with one bar of signal. But the part I really enjoy telling people? 🖥️ The Server Lives in the Theater The backend—the part of the site that serves up movie times, blog posts, and upcoming bookings—is a Django REST API backed by a PostgreSQL database. And it runs on a Raspberry Pi in the theater itself. Yep. That tiny little green computer that a lot of folks use to automate lights or learn Python is quietly running our live server right here in Fort Kent. It doesn’t make much noise, it doesn’t use much power, and it’s sitting a few feet from where people buy their popcorn. It’s probably not the “cloud” most people imagine, but I kind of love that it’s grounded. 📰 Local Content, Local Voices One of my favorite parts of the site is the blog. It’s small, but mighty. Most of the posts come from Rick Douglas, a community member who loves movies and generously donates his time to write thoughtful reviews of what we’re showing. Rick doesn’t just review movies—he reflects on them. There’s something comforting about reading a neighbor’s take on the latest animated feature or action flick. To me, it makes the site feel like more than just showtimes. It feels like a little community paper, updated weekly. 💡 Why We Do It This Way We could have gone the easier route and paid for something turnkey, but that’s never really been our style. We built this theater into something personal—and we wanted the website to reflect that too. We keep things: Lean – No huge bills, no waste Local – Servers you can visit in person Ours – From code to content We’ll keep improving it—maybe add online ticketing, or a “what’s playing for kids” section—but for now, it does the job. It’s fast, it’s functional, and it’s ours. Thanks for reading—and for supporting our small-town theater in all the big ways that matter. See you at the movies, — Brandon

Brandon Goding

July 16, 2025 Rick's Reviews

SUPE’S ON
A Review of “Superman”

One of the things that bugs me about superhero movies, most of them at least, is that whenever a new movie features, say, a new Spider-man, we have to sit through yet another origin story. I mean, how many times must we endure the way Peter Parker gets bitten by the radioactive spider? It has been the same with Superman. In past here-we-go-again theatrics, his planet Krypton is about to explode, so his parents send him in a custom spacecraft to Earth where he’s adopted by a kindly couple on a farm in Kansas and grows up to be Superman. Been there, done that—way too many times. But in this newest rehash of the caped one’s saga, director James Gunn (“Guardians of the Galaxy”) thankfully jettisons all the old tropes and gives us a fresh re-telling of the story we thought we knew. In fact, the film begins in what could be called the middle. Superman is already grown up and losing badly to an all-but-invincible robot-like creature. And, yes, that’s Superman with a bloody lip. Already I am intrigued. Because, after all, since Superman first appeared in the comics in 1938, he was largely super-powered, “able to leap tall buildings” and all that, which, frankly, made him boring. There was no vulnerability, except for his weakness whenever in the vicinity of Kryptonite. This time around, Superman is played by actor David Corenswet, a relative newcomer. He might not have the gravitas of the previous Superman played by Henry Cavill. But unlike Cavill, Corenswet displays a softer side to the character which is a welcome change of pace. And--surprise--he has a canine sidekick, Krypto. The dog practically steals the movie, so expect lots of stuffed Krypto toys this Christmas. Also new to the narrative, is a pluckier Lois Lane, courtesy of actress Rachel Brosnahan, who was so winning as the Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, in the cable TV series of the same title. Brosnahan gives a feminist twist to the intrepid Daily Planet reporter. In other words, she’s no pushover in her dogged pursuit of Superman’s true nature, if not identity. Except that it’s soon clear that she and Supes are dating. And in my book, that’s not a bad thing. Again, the story arc dumps the tired cliché of Lois liking Clark Kent as a friend and not realizing her nerdy co-worker is actually a superhero inside that Brooks Brothers suit. And we don’t have to suffer through Kent’s curious disappearing act whenever duty calls. The chief villain of the piece is Lex Luthor, played by actor Nicholas Hoult (“The Menu”). Luthor is determined to destroy Superman once and for all. And he employs a staff of tech bros who can manipulate Superman’s enemies with an array of algorithms. Just don’t ask me to explain how. Hoult’s Luthor is a sinister, frothing-at-the-mouth freak who keeps his enemies in a subterranean gulag, not too subtly suggesting a comparison to a certain world leader who wants to establish prison camps to contain illegals. However, this movie is anything but political, or “woke,” as some conservative critics would have you believe. It is in fact the launching pad for a revitalized DC Comics universe designed to give Marvel a ruin for its money. And based on what I saw, the DCU has succeeded in bringing to the big screen one of the summer’s most entertaining cinematic thrill rides. And so far, the box office numbers would appear to agree with me.

Rick Douglas

July 3, 2025 Rick's Reviews

Blood in the Water
A Review of the Movie Jurassic World: Rebirth

Fifty years ago, a largely unknown film director unleashed on the public a cinematic experience so thrilling, so unnerving, that it stands even today as the consummate summer blockbuster. “Jaws” put Steven Spielberg on Hollywood’s radar as a wunderkind to watch and, at the same time, scared the public from ever wanting to swim in the ocean—a fear that for many still exists. In one iconic scene, actor Roy Scheider’s character and Robert Shaw’s fishing boat captain are being menaced by a Great White shark. Scheider turns to Shaw and says “You’re gonna need a bigger boat.” That iconic line could well be repurposed for the seventh iteration of the Jurassic Park movie franchise. “Jurassic World: Rebirth,” after a kind of story line setup, focuses on a family of four out for a sailing adventure near the equator, which we are told in a preamble is where the last surviving modern-day dinosaurs still roam. Big mistake. In one of the best action sequences of the entire film, they come, keel to face, with a creature that could eat a Great White for lunch. The special effects would have you believe that this ocean-going behemoth actually exists and easily overturns the boat. The quartet scrambles onto the upturned hull and they wait to be rescued. A research vessel answers their distress call and we meet the true stars of the film, Scarlett Johansson, Mahershala Ali and not-quite-A-lister Jonathan Bailey (“Wicked”). They are leading an expedition to retrieve dino DNA for a Big Pharma company determined to manufacture some sort of wonder drug, and earn hundreds of millions in the process. The samples must be obtained from three sources: an ocean-going dinosaur species, a land-based species and a winged species. Talk about a triple threat. The leader of the expedition is a by-the-book, and somewhat sinister, Big Pharma executive who pushes the group to abandon safety protocols at every turn. Because there’s always a villain in stories like these. And we need to root for the dinosaurs to, at some point, mete out his punishment. (Remember the lawyer in the first Jurassic Park movie who instantly regretted hiding in a port-a-potty?) As the story unfolds, the crew of the research vessel and the sailboaters are separated and have to navigate a tropical island populated by creatures that aren’t all that interested in a plant-based diet. Screenwriter David Koepp, who co-wrote the first “Jurassic Park” script with sci-fi writer Michael Crichton, author of the original book, keeps the action moving at a brisk pace and, for the eagle-eyed series fan, drops in occasional references to the original film. “Jurassic World: Rebirth” does a serviceable job of attempting to move the series forward in new directions. But let’s face it: we come to these movies to see creatures with teeth the size of Volkswagens and blood-lust in their veins. Anything else is beside the point. Number 7 is better than many of its predecessors and offers moviegoers a terrific entry in the summer movie sweepstakes. In other words, these dinos soar.

Rick Douglas

May 25, 2025 Rick's Reviews

CRUISE CONTROL
A Review of Mission Impossible: The Final Reckoning

So here we are, eight episodes into the Mission Impossible franchise and Tom Cruise, now 62, is demonstrating that age is just a number. And yet, with each jaw-dropping stunt, you begin to feel he’s cheating death. Enough, Tom, you’ve proven your point. You’re superhuman. “The Final Reckoning” is the sequel to the first “Reckoning” and also an official Part Two. Frankly, the first movie was a letdown for me. Yes, there were jaw-dropping stunts, but the villain didn’t have what I consider the requisite menace. That’s because the driver of the mayhem is an AI presence called The Entity. All-seeing, all-knowing. But all invisible. I look back to the James Bond franchise and the villains were real people played by real actors. Consider Dr. No, Auric Goldfinger, Ernst Blofeld. The villainy could be a raised eyebrow, a pet cat or a deadly swagger. Bond: “Do you expect me to talk?” Goldfinger: “No, Mr. Bond, I expect you to die.” The mad men were evil made flesh and all the more chilling because of it. In the final two MI’s, The Entity is AI run amok. But still lurking in the shadows. The Entity’s onscreen henchman is played here by Esai Morales, a very good actor, but only in the service of an angry and vengeful digital creation, like a Donald Trump-turned-coffee maker. In both parts one and two, the chase is on to find a code that can render The Entity impotent, but not before it threatens to unleash a nuclear Armageddon. Find The Entity’s vulnerability and save the world. Something that, by now, Tom Cruise can do in his sleep. The narrative here is more dense than is necessary and, frankly, the screenplay could use some deft editing. At two hours and 45 minutes, the movie feels too long. And there are moments when the plot holes yawn like the Grand Canyon. But there is enough action to justify the length, especially in the third act when Cruise shows his mettle as one of the most daring stuntmen of the era. I kept thinking he needs to pull back and let younger professionals take over. But he gives his usual 100 percent and to great effect. For my money, “Final Reckoning” is an admirable addition to the MI franchise, but is not the best of the series. Still, it’s a thrill ride that’s rare today in movies that don’t carry the Marvel pedigree. One major character is sacrificed in the service of the plot, but gives the entire series a satisfying, if not nostalgic, coda. And you might shed a tear or two.

Rick Douglas

May 2, 2025 Rick's Reviews

A WORLD OF HURT
A Review of “Thunderbolts”

For dedicated Marvel fans, “Thunderbolts” fits neatly into the Marvel Studios timeline. As a continuation, or sequel, it makes perfect sense. However, as a casual fan of the MCU, it took me about 20 minutes to realize that the plot of this latest Marvel entry owes a great deal to the standalone 2021 “Black Widow” movie starring Scarlett Johansson. Returning to the big screen from that movie are Florence Pugh as Yelena Belova, David Harbour as Alexi Shostakov/Red Guardian and Olga Kurylenko’s Taskmaster. Also on hand is Marvel mainstay Sebastian Stan as Bucky Barnes, the former Winter Soldier, who has since been elected a U.S. Congressman. And in a major casting coup, Julia Louis-Dreyfus shows up as an integral character (Finally! An explanation for those random cameos.) With a streak of white hair, she looks like a Cruella De Ville wannabe, but with even more sinister motives. Her Valentina Allegra de Fontaine, as CIA Director, dispatches Yelena to an underground facility where the girl finds herself at odds with what appears to be a motley group of assassins. Eventually, though, the group realizes they’re caught in a web of deceit hatched by the evil Allegra and decide there’s safety in numbers. And then they meet Bob (Lewis Pullman). Just Bob. Bob is dressed in hospital scrubs and doesn’t appear to know how he got himself in such a pickle. He seems sweetly dim, almost to the point of comic relief. Understandable, since this movie is the creation of the crew behind the Emmy-winning TV comedy “Beef.” And then just like that, the huge gates that define the gargantuan space slam shut and the group realizes Yelena’s assignment is a trap and the room is actually an incinerator. Fortunately, one of the four is capable of disappearing through walls and manages to open a gate just as a digital clock on the wall ticks down to zero. Ya gotta love Hollywood. So now the chase is on. The merry band of misfits outwits a small army outside and makes their getaway. But not before the mysterious Bob somehow goes airborne and then slams back to earth and destroys the heroes’ escape route. Allegra’s goons capture him and take him to a secret lab in New York City where she can keep an eye on him and learn more about his growing superpowers, including levitation and why he packs a mean left hook. Marvel Studios is now under new management and it’s clear this scrappy addition is meant to announce where the MCU is headed. You might be surprised.

Rick Douglas

Feb. 20, 2025 Rick's Reviews

HULKAMANIA
A review of Captain America: Brave New World

Right at the outset, I’ll be honest. Chris Evans will always be Captain America. Nothing against Anthony Mackie, an outstanding actor in his own right and a worthy successor to Evans. But I think the folks at Marvel should have retired the character. After all, Mackie was an established MCU presence before Evans passed him the crown—er, shield—in “Avengers: Endgame.” But corporate synergy is the DNA of the Marvel Universe and I am sure there were some heated discussions in the boardroom over what to do with Captain America after Evans left the series. So now we have Mackie’s Sam Wilson as Captain America in a role that also gives him wings. So right away he has one-upped his fellow castmate in a role that allows him to defy gravity (sorry, Wicked). The film is, in a sense, a sequel to the Disney+ TV series “The Falcon and the Winter Soldier,” in which the transfer of the name Captain America became official. Unfortunately, Mackie’s Cap is often overshadowed in a narrative centered around President Thaddeus “Thunderbolt” Ross, played by cinematic icon Harrison Ford. Ross faces a geopolitical event that inevitably reveals his dark, angry side. And whoa, his rage unleashes his inner Hulk, or more accurately The Red Hulk. (This really can’t be a spoiler because all the teasers and TV ads focus on this mad transformation.) The folks at Marvel hope the new iteration of a Hulk character will prove to be box office gold, because this new chapter of the Marvel Multiverse, comprised of several movies, so far hasn’t lived up to expectations. We’re now 35 MCU movie projects in and this movie breaks little new ground in terms of story. But Mackie saves the day with a street-level fighting spirit that Chris Evans could only dream of. His smackdowns work because he also has the advantage of aerial combat. “Brave New World” is the first of three new Marvel films that will debut in 2025. Let’s hope the studio can create some unique magic before fans finally grow tired of re-treads.

Rick Douglas

Jan. 24, 2025 Rick's Reviews

THE WIZARD OF ICK
An Appreciation of “Nosferatu”

Some moviegoers might be surprised to learn that this remake of a horror classic (F.W. Murnau’s Nosferatu) is a rip-off of “Dracula.” In fact, the widow of Dracula author Bram Stoker was so incensed by Murnau’s seeming appropriation of her husband’s seminal work that she tried to have destroyed all copies of the 1922 film. But happily for us, she failed in her mission and the original film was around long enough to have had a profound impact on a young Robert Eggers, who vowed he would someday direct his own treatment. Eggers is no stranger to the horror genre, having already given us “The Witch,” as well as “The Lighthouse.” So now he’s achieved his dream of masterminding a vicious, if languid, take on a gothic tale of bloodlust. The story starts with a young Ellen (Lily-Rose Depp) trying to conjure an evil spirit because, in the Victorian age, there’s little else to do for a girl with a vivid imagination. She succeeds at her task in summoning “the Nosferatu,” an otherworldly vampire. Unfortunately for her and those around her, she comes to regret the indiscretion of a lonely heart. Eventually she marries the dashing Thomas Hutter (Nicholas Hoult), who is a real estate agent in Wisburg, Germany. Their life together as newlyweds is an idyll, full of promise but few surprises. That is, until Thomas’s boss sends him to Transylvania to complete the sale of a tumbledown castle to the reclusive Count Orlok (Bill Skarsgard). Ellen begs her new husband not to go because she’s been having unsettling dreams of death, but he tells her the deal will set them up nicely. In more ways than one, Thomas finds himself lost in the shadows of his new assignment. Orlok is a strange creature who doesn’t seem to like doing business in daylight. And the longer Thomas is in the company of his new client, the more ill he becomes. It might have something to do with waking up in Orlok’s castle with bite marks near his heart. Back in Wisberg, Ellen, too, is falling ill while staying with friends. And a local doctor is helpless to deal with her weird affliction. In a menacing turn of events, she sleeps fitfully while dreaming of Orlok, and not in a good way. This is not a horror story that tries to shock viewers with cheap tricks and jump scares. In fact, it rolls out slowly with a tragic air of foreboding, like an evil mist that envelops everything it touches.

Rick Douglas

Nov. 23, 2024 Rick's Reviews

IT AIN’T EASY BEING GREEN
A Review of “Wicked (Part One)”

Yes, you read that right. The long-awaited movie version of the Broadway smash hit (still going strong in year 23) encompasses only the first act of the theatrical version. “Wicked” fans will have to wait an entire year to see how the filmic story plays out. And yet Part One runs an astonishing 2 hours and 40 minutes. Still, it covers a lot of ground for someone like me whose association with the Oz story is limited to the now-classic 1939 movie with Dorothy and her three Munchkin-meeting chums. This time around, we are told an origin story based on the best-selling book by Gregory Maguire. Born with green skin, Elphaba, who will one day morph into the Wicked Witch of the West, and Galinda (not a typo), who will be the Good Witch Glinda, meet at university and become roommates, but not before they both are smitten with handsome Prince Fiyero, played by an electric and sometimes scene-stealing Jonathan Bailey. Elphaba, by virtue of her off-putting appearance, and played with quiet strength by Cynthia Erivo, is an immediate outcast on campus. And the story here deals sensitively with her otherness. Her cotton-candy opposite, Galinda, played by pop star Ariana Grande, at first suggests a spoiled rich girl who knows nothing of hardship or deprivation. But she shows a bit of bravery by siding with her strangely withdrawn roomie and giving her a makeover. The boarding school is overseen by a mysterious headmistress played by Michelle Yeoh, and it isn’t long before she reveals her true intentions toward Elphaba. And her sinister plan involves an invitation to meet the Mighty Wizard of Oz in the Emerald City. It’s here I have to say my favorite part of the movie has nothing to do with the singing and dancing, of which there is almost too much, but with the emerald-green, Art Deco-inspired train that whisks Elphaba and Galinda to their fateful meeting. It is a miracle of mad invention. To say any more would spoil the fun. But parents be warned: “Wicked” is not a live action “Frozen,” with that animated film’s frothy do-goodism. This iteration of the Oz saga has some scenes that might be too intense, even too violent, for children under the age of six. But adults, especially fans of the theatrical juggernaut, will come away dazzled by the spectacle of a “Wicked” good time.

Rick Douglas

Oct. 31, 2024 Rick's Reviews

ROCKY MOUNTAIN HIGH
A Review of “Lost on a Mountain in Maine”

Apparently, “Lost on a Mountain in Maine” is required reading of every Maine fourth-grader. Not having grown up in the Pine Tree State, I was unfamiliar with the book and the story on which it’s based. And that is my misfortune, because the saga of Donn Fendler being lost in the Katahdin wilderness, at the foot of Maine’s tallest mountain, is almost too unbelievable to be true. The story takes place in 1939. In the depths of the Great Depression, the Fendler family’s finances are rocky, so dad Donald has to take jobs that keep him away for long periods of time. When he does come home, it’s clear at the outset that he’s a taskmaster and disciplinarian, especially toward his oldest twin boys. It isn’t for nothing they address him as “sir.” A two-week fishing trip the boys had been looking forward to has to be scrapped, due to Dad’s job. So, he offers instead a two-day hike on Mt. Katahdin with an assist from a local guide. Donn feels betrayed by the change in plans, but reluctantly agrees to the trip, as does his brother. Dad packs the twins and their younger brother into his massive Chevrolet and they set out for adventures unknown, despite a less-than-rosy weather forecast and without proper hiking gear. As they sit around a campfire, their guide warns them of the possible dangers ahead, of the rain and freezing temperatures that can materialize without warning and that can make an ascent a life-or-death experience. On the way up, as fog and rain turn the day hike into a treacherous slog, Donald decides to call it quits, but the twins, led by Donn, tell their father they are going on anyway, with the help of their guide. It is then the two boys fight and Donn leaves in a huff and soon finds himself alone and disoriented. Luke David Blumm is extraordinary in the role of Donn. Often soaked to the bone, his character finds himself at first exhilarated at the prospect of conquering his fears, fending for himself by eating raw fish and berries and proving to his dad he is mature enough to cope with the separation. With Blumm, you feel every icy plunge into a forbidding river, every painful step once he’s lost his sneakers. Meanwhile at home, Donald and wife Ruth try their best not to think of a worst-case scenario. And it doesn’t help that local rangers tell them there’s little reason to hope Donn will survive his ordeal in 100,000 acres of Katahdin wilderness. Director Andrew Kightlinger chose to intersperse his survival story with archival interviews with family members and local Mainers who aided in the search for the boy. This documentary approach sometimes can slow the movie’s momentum, but I found the snippets offer necessary context that you don’t get from watching the boy in his endless suffering. With dad out assisting volunteers, Ruth decides it’s time to recruit help, not just across New England but across the country. No easy task at a time when a crude landline is your only friend. But with the heft of national newspapers like The New York Times, she succeeds in spreading the word about Donn’s plight. And in a moment of quiet reflection, in one of the film’s best scenes, she tells her husband she is secretly glad it’s Donn who got lost because, of the two boys, he’s the most stubborn and that trait, also true of his father, is what ultimately will save him. What is left unsaid is that a mother’s love is even stronger.

Rick Douglas

Oct. 4, 2024 Rick's Reviews

THE JOKER’S STILL WILD
A Review of Joker: Folie a Deux

First off, allow me to explain the meaning of the title. “Folie a Deux” is French for “madness of two,” or a shared psychosis. And that psychiatric syndrome appears early on in this sequel to the 2019 hit. In the first Joker film, Arthur Fleck, AKA The Joker, murdered five people, although in this sequel he admits to also murdering his mother, which brings the number of dead people to a sickening six. And much of the movie centers on whether Fleck is merely bipolar or suffers from some more serious form of split personality disorder. And nothing star Joaquin Phoenix does onscreen makes that task easy. Fleck is incarcerated at Arkham Psychiatric Hospital awaiting trial for the murders. His lawyer, played by Catherine Keener, will try to persuade a jury that Fleck is in fact two personalities and that his Joker half is the guilty party, and not Arthur. Phoenix here, as in the first film, does insanity exceedingly well. He was so convincing as the psychotic villain in the first movie, he won the Best Actor Oscar in 2020. So, again, he wavers between being unhinged and eerily withdrawn, except for occasional outbursts of demented laughter. The movie begins, oddly enough, with an animated feature, an homage to the Looney Tunes of old, in which Fleck as The Joker is fighting with his own shadow. Or maybe he’s battling his alter ego. To what end is anyone’s guess. And that’s how I felt throughout most of the plus-2-hour running time. Yes, we’re still in Gotham City, although it’s a far cry from the Art Deco-on-steroids Gotham of Tim Burton’s Batman. And we’re still ostensibly within the confines of the comic book from which The Joker traces his roots. But this story departs from the source we all know too well by wedding itself to the physicality of contemporary New York City. For me, the new film is a mashup of The Shawshank Redemption, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, Taxi Driver, La La Land and every legal drama we have seen in the movies or on television. Oh, and any Hollywood musical you might care to mention. This “Joker" references Fred Astaire in “The Band Wagon.” Phoenix is joined by Lady Gaga as a fellow inmate with many dark secrets. She partners with him in several song-and-dance numbers that spring out of nowhere. Phoenix has a serviceable singing voice, but it’s Gaga who ably carries the many standards from the American song book. A soundtrack CD is sure to be a hit. Again, the reason for the musical numbers is often baffling. We assume they spring from Arthur Fleck’s imagination. Rather than illustrate a plot point, they often stop the movie dead in its tracks. Not that a little tap-dancing isn’t fun to watch. But it’s hard to figure out what these handsomely-staged duets—elegant throwbacks to Hollywood’s golden era--want to be, other than a pleasant diversion from Arthur’s grim reality. That’s grim with a capital G, though not the G intended for general audiences. In fact, “Joker: Folie a Deux” is rated R for a very good reason. Carnage at its most extreme is no joke.

Rick Douglas

Sept. 26, 2024 Rick's Reviews

WILDERNESS OF THE HEART
A Review of “The Wild Robot”

While Pixar arguably has been the gold standard of animated films in the past, the company lately has yet to land a story with as much heart and astonishing visuals as “The Wild Robot.” DreamWorks has a certified classic here and a likely hit with moviegoers of all ages. The central character is a robot nicknamed Roz, a strange visitor to a strange land, at least to it (her?). A land of breathtaking mountain vistas and deep woods that border an unknown sea. In the course of a crash-landing, any memory of how she got here is a mystery. And Roz’s mission is also a bit cloudy. And rather than be surrounded by her own mechanical kind, Roz is forced to make nice with woodland creatures who are initially skeptical, if not a bit fearful, of what they call “a monster.” As Roz explores the cliffs and crannies of her new home, she accidentally crushes a nest in an aerie with a mother goose and her several eggs, save one. As she analyzes the egg, it cracks open and out pops a gosling, the likes of which Roz has never encountered before. Roz and the gosling form a curious bond, and Roz has no choice but to be its protector, not realizing that the baby bird will imprint on her as its mother. As Roz befriends the creatures of the forest, they become a sort of extended family, helping to raise the bird so it can chart its natural course as a member of a future flock. As the story unfolds, it becomes clear that this is no ordinary cartoon feature. There are no wrong steps from the animators as the narrative and the visuals never flag. And just when you think you have the tale figured out, there is a dramatic twist that might have you tearing up. Chris Sanders, the director, is best known for How to Train Your Dragon, and here has achieved a kind of alchemy: a story that celebrates parenthood without being preachy mixed with some of the most stunning imagery seen in an animated feature to date. “The Wild Robot” is a rare bit of cinematic mastery that sets the bar so high, it’s not likely to be surpassed for a long time. Children will embrace the simple life lessons while adults will take to heart the joy that can be found in caring for those who might at times feel lost. You will surrender, as I did, to the film’s infinite charms.

Rick Douglas

Sept. 14, 2024 Rick's Reviews

CRITICAL CONDITION
A Review of The Critic

Esteemed New York drama critic Clive Barnes once said about his profession: “The two most important elements in a critic, as I see it, are passion and compassion.” As a theater critic in the new film “The Critic,” Sir Ian McKellen is one for two. Smoking unfiltered cigarettes and sporting a broad-brimmed hat, his Jimmy Erskine is the long-suffering seat-warmer of the title in 1930s London. And suffer he does, reviewing plays of uneven quality for Britain’s foremost “family newspaper,” while in his off time seeking out the company of young like-minded men in public parks, a dangerous practice at the time and one that could land you in jail. Moreover, his nighttime activities haven’t gone unnoticed by his publisher, Viscount Brooke, played stoically by Mark Strong. Brooke is unnerved by his number one critic’s lifestyle, but allows this uneasy alliance to continue due to Erskine’s long association with the paper and the fact he was first hired by Brooke’s father. It’s clear from the outset that Jimmy is a cantankerous human being, although with a soft spot for the young man he describes as his “secretary,” who performs all manner of chores, although “not in the bedroom,” according to Jimmy. The story unfolds with Jimmy attending a production starring a young and insecure actress, Nina Land, played by Gemma Arterton. In his review, he excoriates Land as unworthy of the stage and her performance a waste of his time. Soon we learn she is having an affair with the married son-in-law of Viscount Brooke. Stephen Wylie is besotted, as they once said of such feelings way back when. And no wonder. Wylie’s wife is an icy shrew. Brooke also neglects his own wife and spends a great deal of his time attending shows in London’s West End. And it turns out he, too, is smitten with Land. One night, in a drunken throwdown, Jimmy and his consort are arrested and charged with indecency. The publisher’s response is to fire Jimmy and provide him with a handsome stipend. And this is where the story, and Jimmy’s soul, take a dark turn. He’s like a mad puppeteer, playing his personal and professional peers against each other. So, it’s no surprise that Jimmy hatches a plan to get his job back and in a way that ends in tears, or worse, for those closest to him. Say what you will about McKellan, who at 85, can still hold his own on the big screen. He might not be a hero in the conventional sense, but he does have a poisonous kind of panache.

Rick Douglas

Sept. 10, 2024 Rick's Reviews

YOU ONLY LIVE TWICE
A Review of “Beetlejuice Beetlejuice”

I have to be honest. I had never seen the first “Beetlejuice” when I sat down to watch this sequel and it took me a while to process the manic energy and comedic nonsense that director Tim Burton brings, once again, to the big screen. It’s taken almost 27 years to find a decent story to resurrect Michael Keaton’s “bio-exorcist,” as well as the other main characters played by Winona Ryder and Catherine O’Hara. In the first film, a couple played by Alec Baldwin and Geena Davis are in a car accident involving a covered bridge and an icy river. When they arrive back home, they discover they died in the accident. The fact that they have no reflections when staring into a mirror is the main clue. As ghosts, they are not allowed to leave the house, so they hire Beetlejuice to scare away the new inhabitants, Charles and Delia Deetz, played by Jeffrey Jones and O’Hara. Baldwin and Davis are invisible to Charles and Delia, but not to their daughter Lydia, played by Ryder. They summon Beetlejuice for help, but then decide not to hire him, so, he wreaks havoc on the Deetz family nonetheless. The supernatural events inspire Charles to hatch a plan to make their small town of Winter Harbor into a tourist mecca, a la Salem, Massachusetts. There’s a lot more and, in the end, Beetlejuice is cursed to live eternally in an afterlife waiting room. Fast-forward to now and Lydia is a goth grownup marketing her connections to the dead and undead as host of a reality show called “Ghost Town.” Her mother, now estranged, is meanwhile mourning the loss of her husband who was chomped in half by a shark. In true Burton fashion, his remains wander the underworld, occasionally spurting blood from his lower extremities. There’s also a subplot involving the first wife of Beetlejuice, played by Italian actress Monica Bellucci, who had a much more commanding role in the James Bond flick “Spectre.” Here she is a dismembered corpse who summons her various body parts and then staples them together to further hunt and haunt Beetlejuice. Frankly, for me, her character is more compelling than any other and what little time she has onscreen is wasted. Fans of the first film will enjoy the little homages Burton offers to that first effort but first-timers like me will be baffled by scenes that spool out to no great effect. It often seems like the screenwriters cared little about continuity and just threw together anything that would fill roughly 90 minutes in service to Beetlejuice cultists. The one scene I thought was inspired involves a “Soul Train,” a disco-infused ride into the Great Beyond, complete with afros and bell-bottoms. Some say the earth will end in ice. I say rightly in Wind and Fire.

Rick Douglas

Sept. 4, 2024 Rick's Reviews

NO RIPLEY, BELIEVE IT OR NOT
A Review of “Alien: Romulus”

Back in 1979, when director Ridley Scott first sprang his sci-fi horror film on an unsuspecting public, no one could know that eventually it would spawn a cottage industry, or as much a cottage industry as ever has existed in Hollywood, save maybe for “Star Wars.” The first film received a mixed reaction from critics on release, but in the years that followed, a host of sequels did, too. Still, the original eventually was embraced by sci-fi and horror fans as a modern classic and even was chosen to be preserved by the National Film Registry in 2002. The late film critic Roger Ebert, in his review, noted that the actors in Alien were older than was typical in the science fiction genre and that made the characters more convincing. Now we have yet another sequel. “Romulus,” the title of which refers to a chamber on a space freighter, had to be entertaining to justify the enormous expense of its astonishing special effects but also carry the saga forward. And it does that, but with mixed success. To begin with, when a studio production with an “Alien” pedigree is populated with largely unknown actors, you know where the money was spent. It wasn’t on salaries to be sure. In that vein, “Romulus” borrows heavily from the plots of so many young adult horror films where the “call is coming from inside the house.” I mean, you mix a cast of young actors with a predator, alien or human, and you immediately know where the story is going. Because, thanks to movie villains like Freddy Krueger, we’ve seen it all before. The only question is, how many of them will die? The first “Alien” movie killed off everyone but Science Officer Ripley, played by Sigourney Weaver, and her roles in subsequent iterations made her a star. There’s no such guarantee among the actors in this version, because there’s very little character development. They’re human fodder for the alien creature. But that’s okay because spectacle is everything. One of the smartest things the screenwriters did was to give the young crew an added dimension of peril. Their spaceship, populated by hundreds of skittering face-huggers, is on a trajectory to collide with the rings of what I took to be Saturn. So even if the crew, shrinking in number, manages to thwart the alien creatures, they still have to avoid being smashed to bits on a rocky carpet of space flotsam. Talk about a time crunch! “Romulus” is a worthy addition to the Alien franchise, but it remains to be seen if the moviegoing public will continue to support a narrative with the beating heart, not of Ripley, but repetition.

Rick Douglas

Aug. 23, 2024 Rick's Reviews

HERE WE GO AGAIN, AND AGAIN
A Review of Dune, Part Two

There’s no getting around the fact that this is one very long movie. Like its predecessor, Part One. The book, on which the two new movies are based, as well as the first attempt by Director David Lynch, is a science fiction saga of warring families in a far-off corner of interplanetary space. And it is one of the world’s best-selling novels. Of course, that means it had to be made for the big screen. Lynch’s 1984 version was a fever dream that starred, improbably, Sting. And a young Kyle MacLachlan as the hero Paul Atreides. Paul’s family accepts control of the planet Arrakis, a desert wasteland, but the key source of mélange, or “Spice,” a drug that sharpens the brain, promises an extension of youth, and is also necessary for space navigation. (Key to the plot, though, is that It’s protected by ferocious sandworms, which are the size of tall buildings.) This means that the House Atreides is constantly defending its control of Arrakis, made possible when the Atreides Duke Leto is assigned to be the planet’s protector by a calculating Emperor. Leto proves worthy of the assignment, but the duke's growing popularity angers the Emperor, so he conspires with the Harkonnen, the original stewards of Arrakis and sworn enemies of House Atreides, to kill Leto and his family. However, Paul, in the new films played by Timothee Chalamet, and his mother, Jessica, Leto’s concubine, escape into the desert and join the Fremen, an indigenous people who at first are suspicious of the pair. The initial plotting of the story made up the bulk of Dune: Part One. Part Two concerns the efforts of Paul and his mother to join forces with the Emperor’s enemies, including the Bene Gesserit, a group of religious women with mystical powers and mysterious political aims, to kill the Emperor and his troops and secure for all time the control and manufacture of Spice for House Atreides. The plotting is far more complicated than I care to relate here. So, it’s no wonder director Denis Villeneuve chose to split the saga into two movies. The effort mostly works, but be warned each film runs more than three hours. And, yes, you can appreciate Part Two without having seen Part One. The cinematography is spectacular and Chalamet is effective as a reluctant hero who wears the mantle of a warrior like a second skin.

Rick Douglas

Aug. 12, 2024 Rick's Reviews

SECRETS AND LIES
A Review of “It Ends With Us”

This rom-com doesn’t begin with a “meet cute.” Instead the heroine watches at close range as her future beau blows open a door to a rooftop parking lot in a fit of rage and kicks a chair. We could have saved a lot of time diagnosing Ryle as a guy in dire need of anger management and thus send Lily off into the night safe in the knowledge that Ryle isn’t worth the trouble. But “Ends,” based on a bestseller, isn’t interested in safe choices. Lily is intrigued by this dark-haired stranger. And once he turns on the charm, she’s putty in his neurosurgeon hands. “It Ends With Us” unfolds as a cautionary tale. Or maybe it’s a slick dramatization of the old Chinese proverb “Be Careful What You Wish For.” Lily Bloom (shame on you, parents) is a dreamer and a doer. In a flashback, she’s sitting at her bedroom window and spots a young man crawling from the window of a vacant building across the street. Of course, this stranger isn’t what you’d call a typical vagabond. Atlas is good-looking in a Hallmark movie kind of way. And it turns out he rides the bus to the same high school where Lily is a student. Apparently, Atlas, due to his poor hygiene and dirty clothes, is an outcast at school. Lily soon discovers Atlas was kicked out of his own house by his wretched mother. So, Lily packs up some clean clothes and raids the kitchen to provide the boy with some creature comforts. She even lets him shower at her house while her parents are at work. This is a bond that at first seems fleeting but will later complicate Lily’s life in ways the altruistic highschooler can’t begin to imagine. Fast-forward to Adult Lily, who has blossomed (sorry) into a career-minded flower shop owner. Her relationship with Ryle is also showing promise. He pursues. She demurs, until the two of them visit Ryle’s sister at the hospital where she has just given birth to a daughter. Soon, Ryle is down on one knee and Lily melts and says yes. Oh, girl, be careful what you wish for. One night Ryle takes Lily to a new restaurant that has generated a lot of buzz among Boston’s elite. And the man taking their order is: can you guess? It’s Atlas, whose charms aren’t just culinary. Out of earshot of Ryle, they have a chat on the order of, “I can’t believe we’re both in Boston.” It’s clear that their ardor for each other hasn’t cooled. Meanwhile, Ryle and Lily’s home life has taken a dark turn. There are episodes where “accidents” not so subtly cover for domestic abuse. The book on which the movie is based exposes Ryle for what he really is. The movie, however, directed by actor Justin Baldoni, who plays Ryle, softens the edges of the story. At first, Lily seems strangely oblivious to what’s happening to her. And then her escape from this domestic tangle is made all too easy. If you’re a fan of the book, you might be disappointed with the way director Baldoni has chosen to alter certain critical aspects of the narrative. While that’s up for debate, there’s no question Blake Lively is a winning presence and elevates the material above mere soap opera.

Rick Douglas

July 30, 2024 Rick's Reviews

TWIST AND SHOUT
A Review of “Twisters”

I remember as a child being traumatized by the tornado in “The Wizard of Oz.” Even today, the scene of Dorothy running for cover under threatening skies, rendered in an other-worldly sepia, gives me chills. Recently, I read that the special effects director for “Oz,” Arnold Gillespie, created the cinematic monster by suspending muslin cloth from a steel gantry. Because, of course, in 1938 practical effects were all that moviemakers had to work with. Fast forward nearly a hundred years and computers can do in a day what it took the movie pioneers back then weeks to accomplish. And in “Twisters,” the eagerly anticipated sequel to the 1996 original “Twister,” state-of-the-art effects put you at ground level of not one, but six monstrously destructive tornadoes. The story begins with the movie’s heroine, Kate Cooper, played by Daisy Edgar-Jones (“I Know Why the Crawdads Sing”) as a grad student testing a wild theory about how you might engineer the collapse of a tornado. She and her plucky crew of fellow students, including her boyfriend, ride into the maw of a huge twister. The field test doesn’t go as planned and Kate spends a good deal of the movie in a funk, trying without much success to atone for her mistakes. Years later, she’s approached by a surviving member of her team played by Anthony Ramos to join him in testing a radar-based 3-D mapping of a tornado, aided by a supercomputer. (By the way, the three mapping devices are, not coincidentally, named Scarecrow, Tin Man and Lion. It’s because in the original “Twister,” the computer used by storm chasers Helen Hunt and Bill Paxton was named Dorothy.) And Kate’s original team similarly named theirs Dorothy. So, Kate, who by now is working as a NOAA meteorologist in New York, puts aside her misgivings and reluctantly accompanies Ramos in his quest. It means a trip back to her native Oklahoma, which in this story is made to seem like the country’s tornado capital. And it’s there she runs into a social media star played by Glen Powell, who bills himself as the “Tornado Wrangler.” Powell plays Tyler Owens with a cowboy swagger and a thousand-watt smile that’s become the actor’s stock in trade (See “Top Gun: Maverick”). Though Kate’s a nerdy scientist, Owens, whose macho smolder makes him a fictional YouTube star, is nonetheless smitten from the start. Which means their initial disparaging banter slowly grows into a mutual sort of admiration. It helps that they are often thrown into life-or-death situations where personal differences take a back seat to survival. The dramatic scenes grow in intensity as do the twisters. And while sensible people might well drive away from spinning monsters that act like huge vacuums, these storm chasers drive right into them, braving heavy rain and baseball-size hail in the process. The climax of the movie is a jaw-dropping sequence that involves a tornado ravaging a small town where the storm shelters are all full and the remaining townspeople take refuge in a movie theater. There’s no basement to escape to and everyone cowers in the seats as the tornadic winds rain bricks and plaster on those below. “Twisters” isn’t interested in back stories. So, you won’t find much to explain why these storm chasers do what they do; perhaps it’s risking their lives for war stories to tell at whatever local bar they spill into after a harrowing day on the road. But frankly, in a movie that’s very nearly non-stop action, and a terrifying action at that, who really needs reasons and resumes? As summer movies go, this one fills the bill. You’ll walk out of the theater feeling, as I did, like a pinball that took a beating but couldn’t quite find a safe place to land.

Rick Douglas

July 24, 2024 Rick's Reviews

REBELS WITH A CAUSE
A Review of “Deadpool & Wolverine”

This movie is Rated R As I watched this latest entry in the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU,) I imagined the five screenwriters meeting over beers and pizza and tossing out to each other every ridiculous idea that an alcoholic fog might induce. Because the narrative is a jumble of jokes, self-reverential posturing, pornographic humor, R-rated dialogue (beware parents!), F-bombs, as well as digs at the parent company Disney and lamentations over the demise of 20th Century Fox, which originated the “Deadpool” franchise and got swallowed by the Mouse House a few years ago. Let’s be honest here: there’s not much of a story. It has a lot to do with a villain named Mr. Paradox, who summons Deadpool to his headquarters, where he’s in charge of multiverse maintenance. And already we’re in the territory rightly claimed by Meta-loving MCU fanboys. Matthew Macfadyen, of “Succession” fame, is a riot as an officious functionary with a haughty air that aims to cut Deadpool down to size. He gives Deadpool a choice but the reality is that no matter which of the two scenarios he chooses, Deadpool’s a dead man. Except that anyone familiar with the franchise knows Deadpool can never die. And that is my one beef with the movie. Ryan Reynolds’ Deadpool is indestructible. As is Hugh Jackman’s Wolverine. And that matters in a superhero movie in which there has to be a plausible plot device where the hero is, to some degree, vulnerable. After all, Superman has his Kryptonite. Before the story is even minutes old, Deadpool faces off against an army of tech-savvy soldiers and every single one of the helmeted villains meets with a grisly fate. Buckets of blood are spilled, beheadings and stabbings unfold with deadly precision and Deadpool merely brushes himself off like he’s just attended a chaotic garden party. He more than lives up to his self-described moniker Marvel Jesus. As an introduction to the mayhem to come, the scene is, frankly, jokey fun. But the carnage never really lets up. This movie is a non-stop gore fest, interrupted occasionally with exposition that attempts to make sense of a thin entry in the Deadpool franchise. There is fun in identifying a roster of actors who have brief cameos. And one in particular (I won’t mention who) made me wistful for the early days of Marvel movies. Back then, the multiverse hadn’t been fully explored and the stories were strong enough to stand on their own. Now it seems storylines have to be the product of a feedback loop where even the villains look to be recycled. Emma Corrin, who portrayed a young and vulnerable Princess Diana in the BBC production “The Crown,” is slumming here as a bald and pale imitation of Tilda Swinton. Although she tosses off a tidbit where she claims she was visited by a traveling magician and tells the heroes “Of course I had to kill him.” Fans of the multiverse immediately know she’s referring to Dr. Strange. And then she produces a fiery teleportal that would make Strange proud. It's hard to take any of this seriously. But in the end Reynolds offers a welcome vulnerability that, though it doesn’t redeem a convoluted and quite violent movie (the first MCU entry boasting an R rating), it still manages to tug at the heartstrings.

Rick Douglas

July 12, 2024 Rick's Reviews

THE LIFE OF RILEY
A Review of “Inside Out 2”

The hero of the story is the same Riley featured in the original “Inside Out,” only now she’s a 13-year-old high school student burdened with all the fears and anxiety that accompany growing into the teen years. More than anything, Riley wants to be accepted by the cooler girls on the school’s hockey team. And her struggle to fit in is the framework of this sequel. Of course, as in the original, we spend most of the movie inside her head populated by the human-like emotions of Joy, Sadness, Fear, Disgust and Anger. They’re voiced by Amy Poehler, Phyllis Smith, Tony Hale, Liza Lapira and a volcanic Lewis Black. These emotions (emoticons?) navigate Riley’s inner self by way of a glowing console that, by now, is flashing a “Puberty Alarm.” And this being a growing-up tale, a new cast of emotions has joined the fray: Anxiety, Envy, Ennui and Embarrassment. The addition of the Ennui character, for me, is a head-scratcher. Since ennui is a rather sophisticated state of mind, it’s far removed from the lives of the tykes this film is aimed at and I am curious if it’s not a little joke inserted by the Pixar animators to appeal to parents. In any event, the story builds as Riley’s hockey prowess is put to the test. At first, she simply tries to keep up, but with growing ambition, she wrestles with the anxiety that goes along with it. And that has her clutch of emotions on a do-or-die mission to keep her grounded and focused. The animation is a neon marvel, like a box of Skittles given wings. And even though some story details might be a bit too mature for the kiddoes, there’s still enough mayhem on screen to keep them captivated. “Inside Out 2” is Pixar at its best and most inventive. And, yup, the finale might just have you shedding a few tears. But it has me wondering. Will there be a third movie in the series? I can suggest a villain: Acne!

Rick Douglas

June 30, 2024 Rick's Reviews

PIZZA AND THE APOCALYPSE
A review of “A Quiet Place: Day One”

For those of you who have yet to watch the first two films in the Quiet Place series, a short introduction. Back in 2018, actor John Krasinski (“The Office”) wowed Hollywood with a high-concept horror film that he wrote, directed and starred in, along with his real-life wife Emily Blunt. The film exceeded expectations and shot Krasinski near to the top of young directors. The story introduced a race of aliens with super-sensitive hearing; the movie’s tagline was “If They Hear You, They Will Hunt You.” The no-name aliens are as malevolent as they come, with spider-like arms and legs that allow them to scurry at a break-neck speed and with an array of teeth that can rip a body to shreds in mere minutes. So as the first film opens, Krasinski’s family of five is gingerly walking through woods to an abandoned store in search of provisions. Their every step, unless carefully placed, could be an invitation to a quick and terrifying demise. Their predicament suggested a nod to the TV enterprise “The Walking Dead,” because the zombies in that series were attracted to loud noises. But in Krasinski’s world, the danger is more finely tuned. Your downfall might be a muffled cough, a snapped twig or a sneeze. The lessons learned in the first film were that the aliens’ acute hearing could be their downfall, and that they cannot swim. A sequel delved even more deeply into the aliens’ behavior and it, too, was a huge success. On its heels, we now have “Day One,” an origin story that takes place in Manhattan. It stars Lupita Nyong’o and an actor I don’t know well named Joseph Quinn. And given the familiarity many moviegoers already have with the chittering alien monsters, they are merely a framework that allows Nyong’o and Quinn to shine brightly at the story’s center. They are two strangers thrown together in the midst of an apocalypse, along with an adorable cat that helps Nyong’o stay grounded while she deals with a cancer growing inside her and kept at bay with medicated patches. The horror of the alien invasion unfolds swiftly and it’s clear the federal response is to turn Manhattan into an island even more isolated than before, by destroying all the bridges that connect to the rest of New York and New Jersey. The only safe way out is to head for the South Street Seaport and get on boats evacuating the few who survived the initial wave of the alien creatures. Again, we’re reminded they can’t swim. But Nyong’o tells her new friend she is heading in the opposite direction—to Harlem—and pizza. It’s a strange quest in the face of all but certain death but she is determined. It’s great pizza, she insists. I will say no more about Harlem or the pizza, but the obstacles the pair face are daunting and their trek through damaged buildings and deserted streets is handled with an authenticity that heightens the tension. This New York City, which on a good day has a decibel level that rivals screaming, is now very much a quiet place that must not be disturbed. The hunters are everywhere. The plight of Nyong’o and Quinn reminded me of the song “Boulevard of Broken Dreams,” because both have inner demons that rival what lurks in the shadows, in a city that itself is bowed and broken.

Rick Douglas

Dec. 23, 2022 Rick's Reviews

A PANDORA’S BOX
A Review of “Avatar: The Way of Water”

That the sequel to the original Avatar would be a mind-blowing visual experience was always a given and that it would be a very long movie was also a given. Director James Cameron has never been known for economy or brevity. You wonder what a conversation with him over dinner would be like. It might run to breakfast. “Avatar: The Way of Water” is a three-hour testament to the magic that computer-generated imagery can add to the theater-going experience. Even better, the CGI this time around reflects the advances that have been made in the 13 years since the original. Unfortunately, I likely won’t be able to witness just how jaw-dropping this film is in 3-D. Like many moviegoers who don’t reside in big cities with access to 3-D technology or, for that matter, IMAX, I had to settle for 2-D. But it was memorable anyway, offering a truly immersive experience. Once again, we are exploring the dream world of the planet Pandora and encountering the blue-skinned, ten-feet-tall Na’vi. With the planet Earth dying from humanity’s extravagant environmental indifference, earthlings, dubbed “The Sky People,” have set their sights on Pandora for colonization and plundering yet another resource-rich environment. And this time the Holy Grail is a substance extracted from the brains of a species of whale that leads to immortality. That’s the setting. But the heart of the story is a search-and-destroy mission of another kind. Colonel Miles Quaritch, though dead at the end of the first movie, has been resuscitated as a living Na’vi warrior. He and his similarly recombinant henchmen are hell-bent on finding and killing the hero Jake Sully (played by Sam Worthington). Jake and his Na’vi wife Neytiri (Zoe Saldana) are made aware of this latest threat and, with their three children, race to seek refuge on another part of Pandora, with a distinctly different tribe who populate a series of islands. These “Water People,” the Metkayina, have evolved to the extent that they can breathe for long stretches underwater. The sudden arrival of the Sully family is met with disdain and a realization that these refugees might bring trouble in their wake. The teal-colored beings have elaborate tattoos, much like the Na’vi, and there has been a fresh spate of criticism from those who see their usage by Cameron as cultural appropriation—unwelcome at a time when we’re all supposed to be sympathetic to the plight of indigenous peoples everywhere. From an art direction perspective, however, the tattoos, suggestive of the Maori culture of New Zealand, where much of the movie was shot, certainly add to the exotic nature of these alien creatures, so I will leave the appropriation arguments to those with more at stake. Another criticism being leveled at Way of Water is how much the story echoes what we saw in the first movie. I thought about that while watching it and decided Cameron had no choice, since he was telling a story that first unspooled 13 years ago, and that moviegoers, young and old alike, might not have seen or even remember. But this time around, the Avatar focus is more on the teenagers from the two tribes, a departure from the original. You could make the argument that Avatar 2 is really a YA (“Young Adult”) story, laden with teen angst. About the only thing missing is acne. So, in sum, this newest Avatar is best appreciated as a giant leap in movie-making and less as a totally new adventure. Cameron, with fingers crossed, promises that will happen in the third installment he’s already shot called “Avatar 3: The Seed Bearer,” scheduled for release in 2024. Sure, it might be a fool’s errand for the Disney folks to hope that Avatar 2 measures up to the success of the first. After all, that one was released before streaming even existed, and still ranks as the box office champ of all time. But you would be hard-pressed to name any movie in the past few years that offers as much heart-stopping spectacle and that rewards moviegoers with a thrill ride that doesn’t end until the credits roll. Just remember to double down on the popcorn.

Rick Douglas

Dec. 1, 2022 Rick's Reviews

GUARD YOUR CHESTNUTS!
A Review of “Violent Night”

When it comes to Christmas movies, let’s be honest. The classics are few and far between. And with The Hallmark Channel churning out cookie-cutter, holiday-themed movies by the dozens every year, you can quickly overdose on Yuletide mirth. But then along comes “Violent Night,” which more than lives up to its title, if not R rating. In a nutshell, the action-comedy mixes elements of “Bad Santa,” “Die Hard (yes, Die Hard),” “Home Alone” and a little-seen but worthy entry called “The Ref.” That’s a black comedy from 1994, starring Denis Leary and Judy Davis. Leary plays a thief who holds a family hostage. Well, “Violent Night” is the story of some very bad dudes who hold a wealthy family hostage in order to steal their modest $300 million fortune stashed in an underground vault. As you do when you have a fortune to stash. Santa Claus, the real Santa Claus, played by David Harbour (“Stranger Things,” “Black Widow”) happens to stop at the home of the Lightstone family on Christmas Eve and finds himself torn between his annual toys-down-the-chimney ritual and saving young Trudy and her family from some truly violent psychopaths who mow down the servants before rounding up the relatives for some harsh interrogations. No surprise that the night visitors are all on the Naughty List. Santa can’t bear the thought of leaving the Lightstones helpless in the face of all-but-certain death. Besides, director Tommy Wirkola gives Santa a unique back story. Turns out he was himself a baddie, about 1400 or so years ago. “I was mean,” he says. And he wielded a hammer that left no skull uncrushed. Eventually he changed his ways, thanks I suppose to the love and support of Mrs. Claus. But he now finds himself having to dig deep into that darker corner of his soul. And watching him stalk and dispatch the intruders, who by the way have cute nicknames like Gingerbread and Krampus, reminded me of Bruce Willis in “Die Hard,” picking off the terrorists in the Nakatomi tower like decoys in a shooting gallery. Harbour’s Santa is a world-weary slob with bloodshot eyes and some impressive tattoos. He is not the jolly archetype made famous in all those vintage Coke ads. Put another way, in his North Pole patois, the F-word ain’t fudge. Especially when he steps in some of Blitzen’s poo. And yet he’s the perfect foil for John Leguizamo who plays Jimmy Scrooge, the sneering leader of the murderous mercenaries; he’s not a suave international evildoer like Hans Gruber of “Die Hard.” Jimmy’s more into bullets than bon mots. He’s a guy who grew up hating the holidays because of some childhood trauma that turned his heart as black as a lump of coal. And at one point, he comes close to realizing his ultimate dream: killing Christmas. But you just know that in the end he’s no match for the real Mr. Claus. “Violent Night” goes down like spiked eggnog. It’s Christmas cheer.

Rick Douglas

Nov. 17, 2022 Rick's Reviews

LAST SUPPER
A Review of “The Menu”

A few years ago I was in Lima, Peru, on a Sunday afternoon. As I walked to my hotel, I passed a gate with a small brass plaque announcing the entrance to Maido, one of the “World’s 50 Best Restaurants,” as chosen by San Pellegrino and partners. The sign said Maido closed at 4, and it was getting toward 3, so I asked the burly gatekeeper if I would be allowed to dine there, so close to closing time. He called upstairs and then ushered me inside. Maido is the brainchild of Japanese chef Mitsuharu Tsumura, who has fused Japanese and Peruvian flavors to great acclaim. The service was a bit rushed, given the late hour, but I enjoyed every bite, from the guinea pig appetizer to the rich chocolatey dessert. And, best of all, I found it reasonably priced. I thought about that memorable meal as I watched “The Menu,” the new thriller from Searchlight Pictures. The story takes place in a restaurant called “Hawthorn,” named for its island location, ostensibly off Washington State, although the scenery more closely resembled coastal Georgia. Hawthorn is run by acclaimed chef Julian Slowik (Ralph Fiennes), who charges his clientele an eye-watering $1250 per person for the privilege of dining in his exclusive establishment. The diners are high-rollers, the kind of foodies who seek out such places more for the bragging rights than savoring the slavishly-prepared food. Among them, some young Wall Street wizards who worship money above all else; a failed movie actor looking for redemption; and an imperious food critic who proudly announces that she was the first to put Julian “on the map” early in his career. Their visit begins with a tour of the property, including the barracks style living quarters for the staff. The spartan conditions, including rows of simple cots, seem oddly out of place in such a luxurious retreat. “You live here?” asks a curious diner. Slowik’s major domo, an officious Asian woman, tells the group they are devoted to their kitchen idol, but in a way that registers both inscrutable and maybe a bit malevolent. Then everyone is seated and the experience unfolds. The film is presented as a menu, with each offering announced with a title card. But not before Slowik claps his hands sharply and his chef’s assistants yell in unison “Yes, Chef!” The pageantry at first comes off as unnecessarily pretentious, but then unnerving, as the tension builds with each clap and you begin to wonder why Slowik brought together this particular group on this particular night. And is there more to the menu than meets the eye? Unfortunately for the assembled group, the answer is yes. In one early scene, Slowik admonishes a young woman (Anya Taylor-Joy), a last-minute substitute date for a character played by Nicholas Hoult, that “You shouldn’t be here tonight.” The line cuts like a Ginzu knife. So, welcome to Hawthorn, where the sinister floor show includes more than the amuse bouche and entrees made from seaweed and air. Maido this is not.

Rick Douglas

Nov. 3, 2022 Rick's Reviews

COASTING ON CHARISMA
A Review of “Ticket to Paradise”

The trailers have been running in theaters for months: Julia Roberts and George Clooney bickering and scheming to keep their law school-bound daughter from making what they consider the mistake of her life. Lily, after just a few days in Bali, has fallen for a sexy seaweed farmer. There’re all kinds of problems with that scenario. To begin with, Lily seems too driven and book-smart to throw her lifelong plans away after a few mai-tais, even though her prospective beau Gede has charm to spare and lives in what passes for paradise on earth (Australia sitting in for Bali). Thankfully, Gede’s parents aren’t portrayed as native simpletons, but as kind, generous and loving people who trust their son to make his own way in life. That’s in stark contrast with Lily’s parents, David and Georgia, who travel halfway around the world to sabotage the impending wedding. That’s because their own marriage faltered years ago, so even now they are consumed by cynicism and alleged contempt for each other. Clooney and Roberts shine in early scenes where the barbs hit with a poisonous precision. But all concerned here know you don’t pair two A-listers and expect them to live unhappily ever after. As they team up to drive a wedge between Gede and Lily, their plan unravels. Along the way, Roberts’s Georgia, the owner of a Los Angeles art gallery, begins to question why she should continue a relationship with a much younger airline pilot (Lucas Bravo, “Emily in Paris”) whose puppyish enthusiasm can be grating at times. He arranges the cockpit duty to Bali so he can press Georgia to make a commitment she might not be ready for. And you can see from miles away where the story is headed. The two exes share the memories of what drew them together in the first place. And they realize trying to split up their daughter and her in-the-moment fiancé is too selfish even for people who have made selfishness a second career. Roberts and Clooney have history, having made two Ocean’s movies together early on. So, their dynamic is believable and welcome and helps support an otherwise weak script. If nothing else, the scenery is breath-taking and, more than once, I wanted to sink my toes in the white sand and drink whatever it is that gets the Balinese through their day. “Ticket to Paradise” is a fun little romp with a genuine sweetness that has been missing from theaters for far too long. But let’s hope Roberts and Clooney make another movie that has more on its mind than beer pong and dancing dolphins.

Rick Douglas

Oct. 27, 2022 Rick's Reviews

SPEAK OF THE DEVIL
A Review of “Prey for the Devil”

Here I thought the latest variant of the Coronavirus was the scourge we all had to worry about most. But “Prey for the Devil” tells us at the outset that demonic possession is the epidemic that matters most. And the Catholic Church is ready, willing and able to help us out. The story takes place at an exorcism school that’s ostensibly in Boston, although the end credits offer an impressive list of names that appear to be Russian in origin, or at least Bulgarian, so no one here pahks their cah in Hahvid Yahd. Try Sofia. In the basement of said school are high-tech isolation cells, the treatment rooms for those suffering from demonic possession. And only young priests, like wizards-in-training at Hogwarts, are allowed to act when the school’s medical team fails in its mission; it’s off-limits to nuns. At the heart of the story is a young nun, Sister Ann, played by Jacqueline Byers, who seems bent on breaking the rules and who develops a strange fixation on a ten-year-old girl, Natalie, who shows the first signs of a deal with the devil. She doesn’t vomit pea soup a la Linda Blair in “The Exorcist,” but she holds her own in the sudden scare department. Natalie can crawl up walls and twist herself into a human pretzel at will. And she takes to Sister Ann immediately, foreshadowing a showdown that’s not hard to figure out ahead of time. Ann singlehandedly challenges the school’s administrators and, by extension, the Catholic Church in her seemingly impossible quest to rid her young charge of Beelzebub himself. She’s a superhero in a habit. There’s a lot of exposition about Catholic guilt that went right over my head, since I didn’t grow up in the Catholic tradition. But we learn along the way the hardest cases of possession are transferred to Rome where the Vatican is the court of last resort. For reasons I won’t divulge here, Ann refuses to allow that to happen to Natalie, despite the misgivings of everyone around her. And that’s even after the possessed Natalie kills a priest and two medics during an ambulance ride. As an aside, this was one of the final two films to feature British actor Ben Cross, best known to American audiences as the hero of “Chariots of Fire.” In “Prey,” he plays Cardinal Matthews of Boston with impressive gravitas. Cross died in 2020 at 72 before the film’s release. “Prey for the Devil” is rated PG-13, but it’s not appropriate for younger moviegoers. Mostly because the story is just too dense and dark for kids to follow.

Rick Douglas

Sept. 29, 2022 Rick's Reviews

MURDERS MOST FOUL
A Review of “See How They Run”

Let me be blunt. If you know nothing about legendary British crime fiction author Agatha Christie, this movie might not be your cup of Earl Gray. By way of explanation, Christie is regarded as perhaps the greatest mystery thinker-upper of the 20th century. In fact, her signature play, “The Mouse Trap,” has been seen by roughly 100-million people since it opened in London’s West End back in 1952. And, except for the pandemic year, it has been running continuously, making it the longest-running play in history. “See How They Run” opens in 1953, as the play and its cast are celebrating 100 fabulous performances. A veteran producer has chosen a director to make a movie of the play and that director is played to unctuous perfection by Adrien Brody. He’s a supreme egotist and manages in short order to offend just about everyone he encounters. It’s a standard trope in Christie mysteries that the most unlikable character meets an untimely end right at the start. And then a sharp-witted detective moves in to discern the identity of the murderer. In Christie’s most famous works, such as “Murder on the Orient Express,” and “Death on the Nile,” the inquisitor is Belgian sleuth Hercule Poirot. But here, the gumshoe is played by American character actor Sam Rockwell, his Inspector Stoppard being no stranger to booze or broad pronouncements. Though the actor’s hit-or-miss attempt at a British accent seems beside the point, his charm wafts through the air like aftershave. His sidekick, Constable Stalker, is played winningly by Irish actress Saoirse Ronan (“Lady Bird”) and her Constable often outshines Rockwell’s Stoppard with a youthful determination to get to the heart of the mystery at hand. So, Brody’s Leo Kopernick gets bumped off early and the game is afoot. Whodunnit? And why? Was it because he’s a drunken party-crasher? Doesn’t seem likely. And if he was hired to make a movie of the hit play, you can be darn sure the actors in said play aren’t going to dispatch the man who could bring them certain stardom. But that still leaves quite a few prime suspects in his circle of acquaintances for finger-pointing. To say more would be a crime in itself. But “See How They Run” is an admirable addition to the current spate of smart mysteries like “Only Murders in the Building” or “Knives Out” and its upcoming sequel “The Glass Onion.” And maybe the best part of the movie, at least for me, is a third act appearance by the legendary Christie herself. Everyone is gathered at her country estate for a final showdown that I didn’t see coming. And all I can say in closing is, best not drink the tea.

Rick Douglas

Sept. 19, 2022 Rick's Reviews

DON’T GET AROUND MUCH ANYMORE
A review of “Three Thousand Years of Longing”

Pity the lot of a genie, or, more accurately, a Djinn. He’s cursed to live, in spectral fashion, inside a bottle. And not the mid-century, pink-pillowed and plush, studio-apartment-like, room-without-a-view of Jeannie in the 60s sitcom “I Dream of Jeannie. The djinn here, embodied by British actor Idris Elba, is but a wisp of smoke until he is released once again by an unsuspecting owner of said bottle. This has been going on a very long time. And there are rules to this sort of thing, as there must be I suppose. You can’t wish to reanimate someone who is no longer living. And you can’t simply wish for dozens more wishes. It’s three and you’re done. This is all explained to Alithea Binnie, a divorced woman, played by Tilda Swinton, who wanders into the Grand Bazaar of Istanbul while in the city for a conference. Alithea is a scholar and her expertise happens to be a discipline called narratology, which I understand is the study of story-telling. Wandering the stalls, she discovers a bottle which she buys and takes back to her hotel room. Of course, it needs a bit of polishing and, as she performs the task, colored smoke billows from its insides and then a huge djinn stands before her ready to grant three wishes, all the while minding those pesky rules of course. Alithea is too much of a pragmatist to believe in wishes and fairy tales, apart from what she studies. And initially she rebuffs the djinn, telling him she won’t be asking for anything as fanciful as wish-fulfillment. But the djinn knows that without Althea buying into his plight, he might have to endure another thousand years of longing to be free of the business of wish-granting. So, he tells her stories of previous owners who squandered their good fortune and these tales are some of the most dazzling ever put on screen. That they come courtesy of the director of the Mad Max movies, George Miller, is a bit of a surprise. But Miller also gave us “Babe,” so he knows how to weave tales both intimate and incendiary. Miller’s use of red is in itself striking and I imagine that sometime in the future a film school student will focus on it as the basis of a master’s thesis. For now, though, it’s satisfying to let Miller’s extraordinary color palette just wash over you. This wouldn’t be much of a story if Alithea doesn’t eventually indulge in a fantasy or two. But one of her wishes is altogether out of character for a prim, no-nonsense academic who can be as brittle as the bottle that got all this started. And yet I bought it all. Because it’s hard to resist two outstanding actors like Tilda Swinton and Idris Elba who effortlessly make us believe in a tale as old as time.

Rick Douglas

Sept. 2, 2022 Rick's Reviews

THE LION EATS TONIGHT
A Review of “Beast”

A New York doctor, still grieving the death of his wife, decides to take their two daughters to South Africa, the homeland of the girls’ mother, for a visit to her modest village in that country’s answer to the Australian Outback. Idris Elba is the devoted dad, and the girls--Mare, played by Iyana Halley, and the younger Norah, played by Leah Jeffries--soon find themselves on safari, accompanied with suitable swagger by dad’s old pal and nature vigilante Sharlto Copley (“District 9”). At one point early on, Copley visits with some lion companions that show him both affection and deference and the scene had me wondering how the production managed to pull off the reunion. I suppose animal trainers can do wonders with otherwise notorious man-eaters. But never for a moment did I envy Copley. What these eager eco-tourists don’t know is that poachers have just massacred a pride of lions in a nature reserve, save one vengeful male that’s keen on payback. You don’t go into a movie like this expecting everyone to die, especially an A-lister like Elba, so the thrills are in seeing how close they come to “Jaws”-like encounters. Director Baltasar Kormakur stages some superb jump scares and often keeps the heart pounding with long sequences in which nothing much happens but that you know will lead to something horrific, a heart-stopping scene or two that easily earn the flick its R-rating. The lion, like the bear in “The Revenant,” is not what it seems. Which is to say what’s on the screen appears more life-threatening than what the actors encountered in real life. But CG aside, the effect is seamless and the threats to the family all the more real. One scene near the end is so vividly realized, you find yourself wondering how any human could survive this no-holds-barred, man-versus-beast duel to the death. But killing off Elba, so late in the game, would upend moviegoers’ expectations. Still, knowing that, I found myself rooting for the good doctor. Elba here again proves why he is one of our finest actors, even if he appears to be slumming in a story that unfolds largely by the numbers. And yet the young women show surprising skill playing opposite him. “Beast” is a tough-minded tale of survival, much like the director’s earlier “Adrift.” But even if you have an inkling early on of how it all ends up, you’ll still be amazed by the ride.

Rick Douglas

Aug. 19, 2022 Rick's Reviews

DOUBLE OMG
A Review of “No Time to Die”

Quite a while ago, Eon Productions, the company behind the James Bond films, announced that there would be a series re-boot after the diminishing returns of the Pierce Brosnan era. Their choice of a relatively unknown Daniel Craig to fill the shoes of a reimagined James Bond was met with howls of protest, if not derision. Craig’s too short! Too blond! Just no! But Barbara Broccoli, daughter of Bond film guru Cubby, was no doubt spooked by a box office juggernaut starring Matt Damon. I am referring of course to the Jason Bourne franchise (another JB!). Bourne at the time was box office gold and appeared to be, according to a few critics, more Bond than Bond. So, Craig’s first outing as Agent 007 was a triumph of grittier style, smarter visuals and a back story that even Bond creator Ian Fleming never had imagined: a wounded warrior, a psychologically damaged assassin and, as the indomitable M pointed out, an orphan. No family, no emotional attachments—the perfect spy with absolutely no baggage. Through four pictures of varying quality, Craig nonetheless matured before our eyes into the iconic Bond. For my money, he was the best, even though as a young moviegoer I had considered Sean Connery untouchable in the role. And now, with “No Time to Die,” we have the grand finale. For the longest time, a fifth Bond adventure had been considered a long shot, since Craig himself told anyone who’d listen he was done with the character. The fourth installment, “Spectre,” had taken a toll on him both physically and emotionally. And no amount of money, he said, would be enticing enough to have him return. But somehow the producers found a way to change his mind. Clearly with an offer he couldn’t refuse: an island in the Caribbean? His own private jet? Whatever the enticement, we are richer for it. “No Time to Die” is a melancholy musing on what it means to be in service to Her Majesty at a time when Fleming’s hero is no longer playfully patting the butt of an unsuspecting woman or lighting up a cigarette onscreen. The old ways seem now creepy if not creaky. In this final Bond film, 007 is so world-weary he’s abandoned the Crown and his calling and lives quietly in a tropical paradise with Madeleine Swann, his love interest introduced in “Spectre.” But then, old friend and CIA stalwart Felix Lighter comes calling with an invitation to join him in one last adventure. Soon, Bond is in Cuba and chasing a Russian biochemist who has stolen a pathogen so lethal, it can kill with the slightest touch. But there’s more to the sinister plot than we know at the outset. The Russian biochemist is a mere pawn in the employ of an evil puppet master played by Rami Malek (“Mr. Robot”). I don’t traffic in spoilers, so this is as far as I go. But it’s enough to say that Daniel Craig was more than satisfied with Bond’s swan song, as well as a plot detail he insisted upon when signing his first contract. Whether moviegoers will be equally satisfied is the bigger question.

Rick Douglas

Aug. 6, 2022 Rick's Reviews

OFF THE RAILS
A Review of “Bullet Train”

Agatha Christie was the master of the whodunit and to whom. One of her best-known works is “Murder on the Orient Express” and for good reason (check out the 1974 version directed by Sidney Lumet and starring Albert Finney and not the 2017 misfire directed by Kenneth Branagh). The identity of the killer is revealed slowly, like Christie is peeling the layers of an inscrutable onion. So now we have “Bullet Train,” closer to “Snowpiercer” in terms of murder and unbridled mayhem than anything Christie could dream up, and that’s not all bad. Brad Pitt is the bleeding heart and soul of “Bullet Train,” a contract killer who’s been brought back from retirement and saddled by his handler with the unfortunate code name Ladybug. She says it’s because a ladybug is the symbol for luck. But in his line of work, he thinks that’s a stretch. His assignment is to pinch-hit for a mercenary colleague named Mr. Carver, revealed much later as a Hollywood heavyweight but his identity isn’t too much of a surprise if you’ve been following the career of director David Leitch (“Deadpool 2”). Ladybug is to recover a briefcase aboard the world’s fastest super train that’s en route to Kyoto from Tokyo. Find it and get off, he’s told. But easier said than done. Because others are after that same briefcase and its contents, which eventually we learn is a boatload of cash and gold bullion. Soon, though, we find that the briefcase is in the hands of brothers with code names Lemon and Tangerine, played by Brian Tyree Henry and Aaron Taylor-Johnson. Given that Lemon is Black and Tangerine is white, the brother thing is just one more joke among many here. They are also guarding the son of a Russian super villain with the spine-chilling sobriquet White Death. And they are under orders to deliver both the son and the loot or suffer the consequences. Super villains can be downright ornery when their orders aren’t followed and White Death is notoriously vengeful. But Ladybug gets lucky and finds the briefcase and even uses it to fight off an assassin named Wolf, whose wedding reception Pitt’s character is shown to have disrupted in a telling flashback. Or did he? Yes, there are so many villains aboard the train, you almost need a scorecard. But director Leitch finds a clever way to keep it all straight. In a bucket hat and black-rimmed glasses, Pitt exudes a chill A-list charm, tossing out asides like small hand grenades and demonstrating he’s every bit an action hero, even at this stage of his career. And crucial to the story is that Ladybug refuses to carry a gun, so he resorts to dispatchings that a MacGyver might envy. But make no mistake. This is a gorefest that more than earns its R rating, with impalings, beheadings and any number of unfortunate events. Some even touching and sad. And perhaps one of the reasons that “Bullet Train” is so watchable is that gunplay often takes a back seat to swordplay, an obvious nod to the samurai culture that colors Japan’s early history. Pitt is helped along with occasional cameos by some A-list friends, one of which had me laughing out loud. Their contributions, though, seem appropriate for an action flick in which bodies pile up like cord wood but that doesn’t take itself too seriously. If you have a yen for excitement, this is just the ticket.

Rick Douglas

Aug. 1, 2022 Rick's Reviews

SONG OF THE SOUTH
A Review of “Where the Crawdads Sing”

I have been mostly successful as a moviegoer to avoid reading books that are then turned into movies. And I can say the same about the best-seller “I Know Where the Crawdads Sing.” Having heard it’s a murder mystery, I didn’t want to go into the theater with full knowledge of the outcome, so I avoided the book altogether and any discussions about the plot. The story of the title takes place in the 1950s and 1960s, in the deeply-held marshes of North Carolina, heavy with Spanish moss dripping from every tree limb and gators patrolling the murky waters like lethal submarines. Early on we meet young Kya and her dysfunctional family, headed by an abusive drunk of a father played with appropriate menace by Garret Dillahunt. He’s not just a wife beater; he’ll strike out at anything on two legs and that forces Kya’s mother and siblings to run. Little Kya, though, remains and learns to harvest mussels at the shore to provide for herself and her father until he, too, abandons the girl. So, Kya learns to fend for herself, with the generous looking-after from the colored couple who run the local general store. In time, Kya shows real promise as a naturalist and artist, twin pursuits that occupy her days but that earn her the nickname of “Marsh Girl.” Even as a grown woman, played by Daisy Edgar-Jones, she has a feral quality that keeps others at arm’s length. But then she meets Tate, who treats her gently and with an understanding that might seem a bit progressive for the time. Their relationship is, for the most part, chaste in the way we have come to expect from Hallmark movies. And it appears they will become a couple. Though Tate is soon off to college with a solemn promise to return, a return we know is likely not in the cards. After all, how do you keep them down in the swamp after they’ve seen Chapel Hill? “Crawdads” is also a murder mystery, with the victim a rich, playboy-type named Chase, who pursues Kya after her break-up with Tate. He’s found at the bottom of a fire tower and naturally the townspeople point at the Marsh Girl as the likely suspect. A retired attorney played by David Strathairn takes Kya’s case out of a sense of obligation because he had known her as the poor, barefoot child he often spotted wandering the streets alone in Barkley Cove. In better times, Kya had given Chase a necklace made from a shell she had found at the beach. And he was never seen without it until the night his crumpled body was found in the mud at the foot of that tower. Chase’s mother accuses Kya in court of having ripped the necklace from her dead son’s neck. Because, well, who else could have done that? So many questions and we get nothing but silence from Edgar-Jones. Yet her dark eyes speak volumes and maybe that’s all to the good. Strathairn is fine as the patient and almost paternalistic attorney. His low-key demeanor reminded me of Gregory Peck as Atticus Finch in “To Kill a Mockingbird.” But it’s Edgar-Jones who deserves the accolades for her turn as a riveting force of nature. Crawdads don’t sing, but she does. Hers is a tune made of marsh grass and fireflies and the soaring silhouettes of cranes.

Rick Douglas

July 28, 2022 Rick's Reviews

FAIRY TALES DO COME TRUE
A Review of “Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris”

“Mrs. Harris” is a movie for anyone with a dream or who has been in love or who has dreamed of being in love. In short, a movie for most of us. This is the kind of picture that critics often say we need more of—a simple story without apology that doesn’t factor into the Marvel Comics Universe, and thank God for that. Ada Harris is a hard-working cleaning lady who serves a variety of clients, most of whom have never had to lift a finger, not one day, in their posh London lives. One in particular, a woman of means who somehow manages to skate by week after week without paying poor Ada, has just returned from a trip to Paris with the ultimate souvenir: a Christian Dior gown of such exquisite beauty it leaves Ada transfixed, if not envious. And a bit bewildered because the gown cost 500 pounds. “Five hundred quid for a dress?” she exclaims in amazement. And that sets her off on a quest to scrape up what she needs for the dress of her dreams, and it has to be a Dior. Some of the movie’s best scenes involve the inventive ways Mrs. Harris obtains enough cash for a ticket to the premier haunt of haute couture. Of course, we know from the title that she ends up in Paris, but the Gallic adventure has to wait while we take a tour of the life of a downtrodden domestic, one with colorful friends, including a chum played by Jason Isaacs who frequents the same pub down the street and who fancies her as his date to the upcoming Legion Dance. Harris, it’s important to know, was once married to Eddie, who went off to war and who, some twelve years later, still hasn’t been heard from. The story hints at Ada’s realization that something terrible happened, but she doesn’t want to admit to losing the love of her life and, worse, forever being known as a war widow. So, she leans on her friend Vi, another cleaning lady with the keys to people’s houses and a fair knowledge of all their secrets. Vi also knows Ada to be so headstrong that there’s no doubt at all her friend will end up wearing the ultimate in French fashion, even if she has nowhere to show off such a creation. The year is 1957, which means The House of Dior is celebrating its tenth anniversary with the unveiling of a collection befitting that milestone. Mrs. Harris manages to gain entrance to the couturier’s salon and atelier as can only really happen in a movie. But that’s beside the point. She butts heads with Dior’s primary gatekeeper and creative director, an acid-tongued woman played by French icon Isabelle Huppert. And there’s no question that Britannia will rule whenever the two square off. But there’s still the issue of this plain-spoken and plainly dressed woman in a universe in which she clearly doesn’t belong. Dior, she’s told, serves only the wealthy when the label isn’t at the beck and call of royalty. But we soon learn that that business model is unsustainable. In the 21st century, sure, Dior is practically a household name and in 2022 is celebrating its 75th year. But in 1957, the great man and fashion icon is close to shutting his doors. What he needs is an angel and it so happens angels come in all shapes, including one in sensible shoes and a thrift-store hat. Before you can say “Blimey,” history is made, haute couture is saved and Mrs. Harris has more to show for her trip to Paris than memories of Montmartre. Lesley Manville has made Ada Harris her own and is likely to earn a raft of award nominations, including a Bafta and an Oscar. She’s both tough and tender-hearted, as sweet as a rose but with a backbone that rivals the rigidity of Big Ben. And one more note: though the movie is a fiction, based on a best-selling novel, we know Christian Dior was a real person and one who was so synonymous with French fashion that the world knew him simply by his last name. Sadly, he died on vacation in Italy not long after he unveiled his tenth-anniversary collection. His silhouettes, though, defied convention while also defining post-war fashion. The designs remain both impeccably clean and classic. Story-telling can be like that, too. Straightforward, with not a stitch out of place. Mrs. Harris, back from Paris, would agree.

Rick Douglas

July 14, 2022 Rick's Reviews

DON’T HANG UP
A Preview of “The Black Phone”

Finney lives in North Denver and loves baseball. The year is 1978, long before cellphones and videogames. A time when adolescents like him are forced to create their own fun or risk giving into boredom. And worse. This is also a story where the adults aren’t good for much, which means when Finney and his teenage buddies are confronted by an evil kidnapper, they must resort to banding together. Think “Stand By Me,” but much, much scarier. And if you care about such things, “The Black Phone” is based on a short story by Stephen King’s son, Joe Hill. Finney and his sister Gwen live with their widowed father, an alcoholic mess still grieving over his late wife’s suicide. But instead of suffering in private, dear old dad takes out his rage on the kids, often viciously beating Gwen with a belt. She retreats into dreams and they become more disturbing, with visions of a black van and black balloons. And that draws the attention of the local police. Because a rash of child abductions has the community on edge and all remain unsolved. So far, the only clues are black balloons left behind at crime scenes. Poor Finney has his own troubles. He’s bullied to a terrible degree by a tough kid named Bruce. He’s not without allies, though. Another tough kid named Robin becomes his protector. Until both Robin and Bruce disappear. And then the focus is on Finney. Walking home from school, he, too, is drugged and kidnapped by a man driving a black van. He winds up in a soundproof cellar. A dungeon equipped with little more than a mattress, a toilet and a disconnected phone on one wall. The villain in all this is The Grabber, played with a grisly gusto by Ethan Hawke. Throughout, he wears a series of masks, some obscuring his face and others that don’t quite do the trick. The Grabber tests his teenage victims, putting them through a series of sadistic challenges in the hope they fail so he can abuse them. The creepiness here is dialed up to 11. But just when all seems lost, the black phone, though disconnected, begins to ring. On the other end are the ghosts of The Grabber’s victims, giving Finney tips on how to escape the madman and his house of horrors. Eventually, Finney learns to stand up for himself. It’s either that or he's permanently disconnected.

Rick Douglas

July 7, 2022 Rick's Reviews

IF I HAD A HAMMER
A Review of “Thor: Love and Thunder”

In the annals of superhero movies, we haven’t seen many villains like Gorr, the God Butcher and that’s saying something. Played by a ghostly and ghastly Christian Bale in this Thor #4, Gorr is ashen-faced and dressed in white, but his choice of wardrobe is not a symbol of purity. In fact, you would be forgiven for mistaking him for Voldemort in the Harry Potter films. Gorr, though, has a better nose and a weapon called the necrosword. It shoots the same blinding bolts of lightning that issued from Voldemort’s wand and made him seem initially so invincible. Still, “Love and Thunder” is nominally a Thor film and we get to see him eventually. Thor has worked off the Pillsbury Doughboy avoirdupois and emerges from his earlier funk with a physique that makes Arnold Schwarzenegger in his prime look like Mary Poppins. So, Thor’s pumped to join the characters from “Guardians of The Galaxy” to fight space demons. Why? Did Chris Pratt owe Marvel a favor? Best not to ask. Then, having mixed it up with Groot and his merry co-horts, Thor takes up residence in the bucolic New Asgard, a cross between a Norwegian Hobbit village and Disney’s EPCOT. For reasons that aren’t exactly clear, we’re treated to a play with cameos by Matt Damon playing Loki, Luke Hemsworth and Sam Neill playing Thor and Odin respectively, and a game Melissa McCarthy cosplaying Hela from the earlier Thor movie. The wigs are as bad as the acting. But that’s community theater in New Asgard. Adding to the everything-but-the-kitchen-sink vibe, there are screaming goats, a creature made entirely of rocks, a cancer-stricken Jane Foster, and a bare-assed Chris Hemsworth refusing to bow down to a mincing Zeus, played for laughs by Russell Crowe, whose next gig might be spokesman for Weight Watchers. Dude, eat a salad for God’s sake. It’s almost like director Taika Waititi couldn’t decide on which one movie he wanted to make, so he made several and mashed them together. Much like Thor’s hammer Mjolnir frequently splinters and then, having saved the day, reassembles and appears none the worse for wear. It’s Bale who commands all the attention here and that tends to throw off the balance of the picture. It’s almost like he and Hemsworth are in two different movies. At one point, Gorr kidnaps all the children from New Asgard and that leads to a chase across the galaxy. Everyone ends up fighting on a crumbling excuse for a planet, and in scenes majestically drained of all color. It’s lightning bolt versus lightning bolt, a battle royale that could light up Las Vegas. And as we have come to expect in the Marvel universe, good trumps evil and love conquers all. Well, not all. Gorr lasts long enough to learn a valuable lesson and Thor ends up paired in life, not with Jane Foster but with a foster child. If you’re a parent and you’ve managed to sit through all two hours of this fever dream, you’ll understand.

Rick Douglas

July 1, 2022 Rick's Reviews

KUNG FU FIGHTING
A Review of “Minions: The Rise of Gru”

Right off the bat, I must confess I am a nubbin newbie, a first-timer to the world of Gru and his minions. Somehow, I managed to miss the previous four movies, so I came into this one with what I suppose is a fresh perspective. Or maybe total ignorance—take your pick. I found “Minions: The Rise of Gru” comical, colorful, chaotic, frenzied, somewhat stupefying and, more often than not, loads of fun. But again, I can’t say this one’s better than its predecessors, so go with me on this. The Rise of Gru is an origin story, the latest genre in Hollywood. If you can’t advance a popular story, try digging into the past. So, we’re off to the 1970’s—disco, boom boxes, bell bottoms, rotary phones, “Jaws” at the movies. In this time frame, supervillain Gru is a nearly 12-year-old boy, an outlier among his peers because he still looks 35 and dreams of doing dastardly things while his classmates aspire to nobler pursuits. He’s a huge fan of a team of evildoers with the Tarantino-esque name “The Villainous Six.” In an earlier scene, they’ve jettisoned one of their own, Wild Knuckles, voiced by veteran Alan Arkin, and now need a replacement. Gru gravitates to their urban lair, a subterranean chamber that looks like a shopping mall hidden beneath a record store. You gain entry by spinning a disc backwards in a listening booth. But the villains, led by Afro-haired Belle Bottom, are unimpressed when they discover the eager Gru is a mere child. Still, Gru’s determined to prove his still-evolving evildoer ways and steals their magic Chinese medallion because, well, it just as easily could have been a magic stone, or magic crown or magic sword. You gotta have a magic tchotchke in a story like this or else the adventure fails like a fallen souffle. Part of this movie’s appeal, apart from the neon colors, is its celebration of a bygone era. And there’s a liberal sprinkling of 70s hits that wraps the story in a warm, Naugahyde nostalgia. Gru gets kidnapped by Knuckles, who takes him to San Francisco, so the city’s famed cable cars play an outsize role, as do its notorious hills. More than once, the minions find themselves rolling when they’re not rocking to hits of the era. Because the Villainous 6 want to get their medallion back, and promise vengeance until they do, a few minions beg Master Chow, a female Chinese acupuncturist and kung fu master, to teach them the finer points of the ancient art. And their slapstick scenes are among the animated film’s strongest. Throughout the story, young Gru is wide-eyed if not always wise, but he still manages to form a lasting bond with Knuckles. Their budding friendship suggests, yes, a sixth outing built around the younger Gru. The Rise of Gru is nearly 90 minutes of animated fun and the kiddies will love it. Will their parents approve? You bet your bell-bottom dollar they will.

Rick Douglas

June 16, 2022 Rick's Reviews

THE BUZZ ABOUT BUZZ
A Review of Lightyear

As Pixar makes plain at the outset, Lightyear is supposed to be the movie that Toy Story hero Andy loved so much and why he was a devoted Buzz Lightyear fan growing up. In the Lightyear movie, Buzz is voiced by actor Chris Evans (“Captain America,” “Knives Out”) and I swear I wouldn’t have known that if I hadn’t read up on the movie beforehand. Evans manages to lower the register of his voice so he almost sounds like Tim Allen doing Buzz for the Toy Story movies. But that’s where the similarity ends. This Buzz is not on hand to do comedy riffs. He’s all business. And that business is exploring signs of life on an alien planet. What he finds, though, are murderous bugs and creatures that resemble vine-like boa constrictors that’ll swallow you up unless you have a weapon to cut through the tangle or a buddy to do the same. And it becomes a kind of running joke throughout the movie. As he tries to leave the alien world behind and reach escape velocity, Buzz miscalculates and the spaceship crashes back down to the planet’s surface, stranding the entire crew. But Buzz knows it’s his mistake to fix and he uses his jet fighter-style spaceship to reach hyper-speed, which we’re told will be the cure-all. It’s just that whenever he attempts this feat, his four minutes in space translates into four years for the crew, so each time Buzz lands, he finds his friends aging, including his friend and commanding officer Alisha Hawthorne. The brain trust at Pixar decided that Alisha should have a lesbian partner and their 2-second, on-screen kiss has already gotten Lightyear banned in parts of the Middle East. Disney execs tried to have the kiss excised before release, but that led to a revolt among Pixar employees and ultimately, they prevailed. Initially, Buzz isn’t interested in being part of a team but quickly learns his mission to get everyone safely home will require the help of others, especially a motley crew of lovable misfits, including Alicia’s granddaughter Izzy. It’s a noble idea that the movie visits time and again. Where I think Lightyear goes off the rails is with the re-introduction of the evil and mysterious Zurg from Toy Story. Zurg, as sci-fi villains often do, has a nearly impregnable starship with a robot army at his command. Zurg’s henchmen resemble the evil robot from Disney’s “The Black Hole,” a nice touch, although it won’t matter to anyone but sci-fi nerds. However, the way the villain is presented here isn’t really the version we remember from the original movies. And there’s a reveal about Zurg’s identity that I found head-scratching. But the kiddies won’t care. There’s plenty of action, enhanced by some of the best animation Pixar has produced in years and an introduction of a robot cat called Sox that will steal your heart. In fact, Sox is likely to eclipse Buzz Lightyear as the inevitable must-have toy this Christmas. And let’s be real. Disney has never not indulged in mass-merchandising its Pixar progeny. So, the real story behind Lightyear is, once again, a toy story.

Rick Douglas

June 9, 2022 Rick's Reviews

DINO MIGHT
A Review of “Jurassic World: Dominion”

Dinosaur movies, like superhero movies, are, for better or worse, a thing and have been since 1993, when Steven Spielberg let loose his “Jurassic Park” to jaw-dropping effect. I’ll never forget the conversation that Jeff Goldblum’s character, Dr. Ian Malcom, had with his fellow survivors on that cursed island. They were trying to make sense of a theme park where re-generated dinosaurs had suddenly run amok. He drolly suggested, with no small sense of alarm, that this was like nothing in the Disney playbook: “If Pirates of the Caribbean breaks down, the pirates don’t eat the tourists.” But as we all know, that’s now part of the dino movies’ DNA and what puts butts in seats. Bon appetit, T-Rex’s and Gigantosauruses. But where Jurassic World: Dominion improves on its predecessors is in replacing the tropical jungles of the past with urban ones. The movie at the start states matter-of-factly in a mock documentary that dinosaurs, both aerial and terrestrial, now inhabit much of the planet and humankind has had to adapt to an uneasy and fragile coexistence, much like Floridians have learned to accept alligators in their swimming pools and roaming their golf courses. There are villains aplenty in this latest Jurassic outing. Some are mere traffickers in exotic dinosaur species, paying little heed that they aren’t baby-sitting run-of-the-mill pythons and vipers in those cages, but deadlier reptiles with teeth the size of a VW. At least one other villain, a corporate evildoer looking remarkably like Apple’s Tim Cook, is trying to engineer a new species of locust. Campbell Scott plays the dastardly CEO of Biosyn, a scientific research firm with nobility as a PR pretense, but with plans that Vladimir Putin might applaud--a takeover of the world’s food supply. Returning to the franchise are Jurassic World stalwarts Chris Pratt and Bryce Dallas Howard, but the real surprise is the addition of original Jurassic Park stars Jeff Goldblum, Laura Dern and Sam Neill. Expanding the cast in this way might seem like some kind of stunt, but the trio aren’t on board for mere cameos. They bring the gee-whiz factor missing from the last outing. Director Colin Trevarro, who also helped with the script, shepherds the rather large cast through one scrape after another, from the Sierras to Malta to Italy, with no loss of momentum. And longtime Jurassic fans will spot neatly integrated visual throwbacks to the origins of the series. Dominion is supposed to be the final Jurassic chapter and I hope that’s the plan. The movie ends as it should. The heroes prevail and the villains meet their untimely ends. If Universal is smart, the studio will wait 36 years, as Paramount did, to make a “Top Gun” sequel. And since Tom Cruise appears ageless, maybe he can be its star.

Rick Douglas

May 27, 2022 Rick's Reviews

THE RIGHT STUFF
A Review of “Top Gun: Maverick”

It begins with our hero pushing the envelope of aircraft technology, against all odds and the stern warnings of higher-ups. His jaw clenches as the aircraft races to ever-loftier heights. The heavens beckon as we’ve never seen before. The soundtrack screams, the instrument panel glows and you can’t help it as your heart skips a few beats. That was 1993’s “The Right Stuff” with actor Sam Shepard recreating the historic moment in 1947 when war hero Chuck Yeager became the first person to fly the experimental Bell X-1 at supersonic speed, defeating the so-called “demon in the sky.” Fast forward to 2022 and this time, it’s Tom Cruise at the controls of a supersonic aircraft that would seem other-worldly in Yeager’s day. He’s trying to save a test flight program by reaching Mach 10, against all odds and the stern warnings of higher-ups who have branded the program and Pete “Maverick” Mitchell both dinosaurs. Does he succeed? Well, it’s Tom Cruise after all, and the movie’s just getting started. So, you do the math. “Top Gun: Maverick” is being released some 36 years after the original and is itself a kind of relic, a throwback to other decades when movies were driven by sheer star power and didn’t require the hero to wear Spandex or a cape. It’s been said Cruise is the last Hollywood superstar, and that’s probably true. He has single-handedly shepherded, as both star and producer, some of the biggest blockbusters of the 2010’s, a feat achieved by no one else. He re-energized the “Mission: Impossible” franchise by defying gravity and maybe common sense in stunts that had more than an edge of real danger. And there are two more installments to come, in 2023 and 2024. By comparison, a movie about Navy fighter pilots and a sequel to one nearly 40 years old, though successful, might seem like a gamble for both Cruise and Paramount Pictures. But Tom Cruise is famous for breaking the rules. He drives himself like no one else in Hollywood and it shows in “Maverick.” The story is both original and an ode to what came before, including a heartfelt tribute to actor Val Kilmer who figured prominently in the first movie and who in real life has suffered a debilitating case of throat cancer. Cruise insisted Kilmer’s character be brought back and the way Iceman’s story dovetails with the plot here is respectfully handled, even tender. But it’s movie artistry that grabs you by the throat here and never lets go. The aerial stunt work in “Maverick” is pulse-quickening and jaw-dropping. The scenes hum with a realism that only practical effects can produce. Which is why for months now, Paramount’s PR team has been telling anyone who’ll listen that all the main actors were filmed in the cockpits of contemporary jet fighters, doing actual stomach-churning rolls and vertical dives. Not like in days of old when actors merely sat on sets in blue-screen mockups. The result is a seamless big-screen thrill ride, which is how Cruise had always envisioned it. As producer, he demanded an experience to see in a theater and to savor. Mission accomplished. And as the star, he still holds the center, flashing that thousand-watt smile that first got him noticed. And for those who might be too young to have seen the first “Top Gun,” or who didn’t bother the first time around, not to worry. The back story is explained with brief flashbacks and enough references to Pete Mitchell’s early maverick behavior that moviegoers are never at a loss for what’s happening on screen. So, while we wait for the next “Mission: Impossible,” here’s an impossible mission with Tom Cruise once again at its cinematic core. And still with a need for speed.

Rick Douglas

May 19, 2022 Rick's Reviews

FRENCH TWIST
A Review of “Downton Abbey: A New Era”

So, here we are again. A second film about the upstairs/downstairs saga of the Crawley family and their servants made famous in the original PBS series, “Downton Abbey.” You would think after six years of weekly TV episodes and a follow-up movie that their story would be played out. But I am happy to report that “Downton Abbey: A New Era” is a thoroughly enjoyable continuation of the Crawley’s upper-crust life in the Yorkshire countryside, and as welcome as a warm cup of Earl Gray on a chilly afternoon. The year is 1928, and Violet, or Lady Grantham, the family matriarch, played to acid perfection by Dame Maggie Smith, learns she has inexplicably inherited a villa in the south of France. The why of that inheritance is the sort of mystery that screenwriter and series developer Julian Fellowes does so well. The few family members who’ve decamped to the balmy weather on the French Riviera find that the inheritance isn’t without its complications, namely that the benefactor’s widow isn’t happy that she’s about to be evicted by some distant Brits and all because her late husband apparently had a dalliance with Lady Grantham long before their marriage. Meanwhile, a silent movie company proposes to film a picture amid the authentic splendor of the historic Crawley estate. Which means the rest of the family and staff struggle with the chaos that only such a production can create. It doesn’t help that actors of the silent era, the so-called “cinema people,” were considered equals of the low-born and distinctly without class. The disruption, though, has an upside. The Crawley’s need a new roof and the money on offer is substantial, at least for 1928. The movie’s impact on their aristocratic life is easily the best part of “A New Era.” Because, like the classic “Singing in the Rain,” it shows how the advent of “talkies” upended the business of making movies and the lives of those unfortunate actors whose voices didn’t mesh with the expectations of moviegoers newly-accustomed to hearing sound on the screen. At one point, Lady Mary is recruited to lend her voice as a substitute for the actual low-brow vocals of the female lead. And as the savior of the picture, she draws focus from the handsome director, played by Hugh Dancy. Movie dramas, even those as warmly predictable as “Downton,” inevitably need an occasional injection of melancholy to counterbalance the comedy, or, in this case, the lightness of a life of remarkable privilege. As was true in the TV series, some characters must depart. And I admit in one case I was moved to tears. As the story wraps up, longtime fans will wonder if there will be a third film. The only answer can be “yes,” or as long as there is an England. And enough money to reunite what remains of this splendid cast. By the way, if you missed the first movie, this one begins with a six-minute recap, elegantly fashioned as both an introduction to the world of Downton for newbies and a refresher for those who know the difference between a Grantham and a Crawley.

Rick Douglas

May 5, 2022 Rick's Reviews

UNHAPPY MOTHER’S DAY
A review of “Doctor Strange: In the Multiverse of Madness”

Director Sam Raimi is back after ten years away from the biz, bringing to the Marvel movie universe a thrilling and maybe a tad overwrought tale of superhero mayhem, featuring Benedict Cumberbatch’s second solo feature outing as the titular character Dr. Strange. The movie opens in an otherworldly universe with Stephen Strange attempting to save a young woman, America Chavez, from the clutches of a raging monster, a glowing and glowering dragon-like creature that spews fire with the best of them. The beat-down renders Strange incapable of saving his young charge and it appears he dies in the act. So, we know right away this is a screenwriter’s deception, because it’s just minutes into the movie and there’s a lot more adventure just ahead. Sure enough, the good doctor wakes from this jam-packed CGI nightmare at home and safely in his bed. But was it really a nightmare? Perhaps yes and perhaps no. There’s a lot of two-handedness in this strange stab at explaining the multiverse. Raimi pulls the rug out from under us on several occasions and not always in the service of the actual story. Still, every good superhero saga needs a good villain and here it’s Elizabeth Olsen’s unhinged Scarlet Witch. Except that she also appears as Wanda Maximoff playing the doting mother to two precocious boys and reveling in the role of caregiver. Olsen’s Witch is a force to be reckoned with and there are times you begin to wonder if there’s any character with enough chutzpah or, even better, supernatural ammo to take her down. This is made clear in the second act when Raimi reveals a high council of multiverse protectors called The Illuminati. Cameos abound with famous faces but even they appear helpless against an increasingly powerful Witch. There’s an argument to be made here that the movie is more about Wanda’s inner conflict than it is about anything Dr. Strange is feeling. And Chavez, a blank slate of a character with almost no back story, is given little to do until the end. The duality of Wanda/Witch in the context of parenting two boys seems to be the engine driving the narrative. But as Dr. Strange reminds the Scarlet Witch, she was never really a mother. Yet It’s a fever dream she returns to again and again, as though she can will something into being that exists only in her increasingly distorted imagination. In other words, Mother’s Day, but with unbridled fury instead of the usual cake, cards and flowers. I saw a hint of “The Wizard of Oz” here and its central theme: “There’s no place like home.” There might be madness in the multiverse, but the most powerful weapon in our heroes’ arsenal turns out to be, strangely enough, a mother’s love.

Rick Douglas

April 22, 2022 Rick's Reviews

BLOOD AND VENGEANCE
A review of The Northman

After watching “The Walking Dead” for the past ten years, I thought I would be accepting of the many ways to dispatch a human being, undead or otherwise. But I was wrong. “The Northman,” the latest film by director Robert Eggers, finds new ways to illustrate the depravity of a mind hell-bent on vengeance. Disembowelment, the lopping of heads, a spear through the heart. The film is a smorgasbord of violent intent. Eggers always has been a proponent of verisimilitude. In his last feature, “The Lighthouse,” he ordered built an actual 70-foot lighthouse because a facsimile just wouldn’t do. In “The Northman,” aided by Icelandic poet Sjon, he sets out to create the ultimate Viking tale, which at its beating heart is really about nothing more than a boy vowing revenge on the man who killed his father, portrayed by Ethan Hawke. And he barely escapes the same fate. When we next encounter Amleth, he is a member of a marauding band attacking a village, murdering the adult males and laying waste to the rude huts with thatched roofs. And you begin to wonder: did we misread the gentle nature of the boy who revered his father, the king? Alexander Skarsgard plays the young prince vowing vengeance all grown up. He is a hulking and howling presence, a force of nature, a sword-wielding and savage beast. And a perfect counterpoint to a regal Nicole Kidman as his queen of a mother and a pale wisp of a mysterious lover played by Anya-Taylor Joy. It’s his encounter with a Nordic witch that ultimately changes the course of his life and sets in motion his quest to find his father’s killer. Much of the tale takes place in cold and barren Iceland, so windswept and forbidding in winter, I couldn’t help thinking the actors and crew more than earned whatever they were paid. Eggers excels at atmosphere and the cinematography is often breath-taking. But the story, dense with Norse imagery and historical pageantry, sometimes can feel inert. There are, however, occasional surprises, especially one in the third act that is truly mind-blowing. A reveal that turns the entire narrative on its head. And there’s no denying that a story featuring a magic sword and an erupting volcano is worth your time. Still, “The Northman,” set in the year 925 A.D., offers unfortunate parallels to the present conflict in Ukraine. Proving that blood lust and immorality are as old as time.

Rick Douglas

April 7, 2022 Rick's Reviews

THIS SONIC IS SUPER
A review of "Sonic The Hedgehog 2”

This boldly imagined and over-stuffed sequel to the first Sonic movie begins on a misbegotten planet populated by mushrooms and a magnificently mustachioed villain Dr. Robotnik, played by Jim Carrey in what might be his final movie role, or at least that’s what he’s been telling anyone who’ll listen. Meanwhile, our favorite pre-teen alien hedgehog has settled into an easy life with a family in Green Hills, somewhere in Washington State, maybe the Cascades, but not too far from Seattle, where, in the opening scenes, the blue flash takes on some dim-witted bank robbers. They’ve commandeered a Brinks truck and are tossing small explosives at what appears to be half the Seattle police force. But Sonic outwits the gang that can’t shoot straight and thwarts their master plan, and then hightails it home to climb into bed. All in a night’s work for our diminutive hero. His “parents” are played by James Marden and Tika Sumpter, who provide necessary lessons about friendship and teamwork, which come in handy as the story lays on a series of scrapes and narrow escapes that rival anything that might challenge Indiana Jones. In fact, in one scene that borrows heavily from “Raiders of the Lost Ark,” Dr. Robotnik and his accomplice, Knuckles, another alien hedgehog, but one with evil on his mind, are trying to tunnel their way through an enchanted temple in search of an emerald that can turn its owner into a master of the universe, as magical emeralds, or Infinity Stones, always seem to do. Wink wink. As the evil duo bobs and weaves among poison arrows and swinging swords, not to mention a giant spiked boulder, Robotnik quips, “I’m not dying here. It’s too derivative.” So, there’s enough humor to please adults while the kids marvel at Sonic’s astonishing ability to outwit, outplay and outlast Robotnik’s evil plans. A new character makes his debut here, a sweet, twin-tailed fox from a distant planet named Tails. He helps Sonic win the day and recover the emerald. So, there’s that teamwork and friendship thing again, a lesson that goes down as easy as an ice cream sundae. Let me put it right out there. If you’re looking for a movie for your kids to see, this might be just the ticket. But be warned, at two hours, Sonic 2 could be a bit overlong for very young kids. And if you exit the theater feeling good about the world you just left, good news. There’s gonna be another sequel. Just not with Robotnik. His ego trips him up. And he goes the way of all cartoony villains. In a crushing defeat, but we assume with moustache intact.

Rick Douglas

March 31, 2022 Rick's Reviews

THERE WILL BE BLOOD
A review of “Morbius”

In the realm of movies made from Marvel properties, we’re looking at an increasingly empty barrel from which to draw blockbusters. The latest entry, “Morbius,” borrows tropes from certified Marvel hits like “Spider-Man” and “Doctor Strange,” at least as far as the way it doles out, if not superhero qualities, certain familiar manifestations. Morbius, for example, doesn’t need the stickiness of web-slinging to fly through the canyons of Manhattan. He just spreads his arms and disappears in a smoky whoosh. The central character is played by Jared Leto, who has impressed Hollywood of late with his performer’s bag of tricks: his ability to shape-shift in ways that put method actors like Christian Bale to shame. Leto’s turn in the recent “House of Gucci” had him unrecognizable under wigs, padding and prosthetics. But here he’s handsome and brooding, and looking like he needs a good hug. A little background. Michael Morbius is a brilliant doctor and researcher who wins the Nobel Prize for his development of artificial blood. And true to his humanistic nature, he humbly spurns the award as an unnecessary accolade. His true purpose, as laid out in an extended flashback, is to find a cure for an affliction that has him crippled and gaunt, much like his best childhood pal, Milo, played in adulthood by Matt Smith, a rakishly effective Prince Philip in “The Crown,” but probably more familiar as a goofy Dr. Who. Morbius is fixated on experiments mixing his own DNA with that of vampire bats, in the hopes that one day the combination might restore his health. But as often happens in comic-book movies, it pays to be careful what you wish for. Testing the potion on himself quickly proves that his newfound vim and vigor can be a curse when it leads to uncontrolled vampirism. There are hints of “American Werewolf in London,” in the way the good doctor transforms into a beast with the prowess of an Olympic athlete and possessing super-human strength. But to make the distinction clear, the moviemakers pile on the special effects. The claws and incisors extend, the eyes look like glowing marbles. More to the point, though, Morbius develops an inconvenient taste for human blood. Early on, he’s accused of several murders, with all the victims found drained of blood. Or, as a weary detective puts it, “exsanguination.” Is it our doctor who’s guilty, or—horrors—someone else? A copycat maybe? Or a close associate? To reveal more would be akin to a spoiler. Let’s just say that “Morbius” gets better as the story unfolds. And for some, it’ll be a bloody good time.

Rick Douglas

March 24, 2022 Rick's Reviews

LOST AND FOUND
“The Lost City” Review

Back in 2015, Tom Cruise appeared in “Rogue Nation,” starring, among others, Rebecca Ferguson, who played a British spy working undercover to infiltrate a terrorist group hell-bent on ending the world. (It wouldn’t be a “Mission Impossible” movie otherwise.) I bring this up because Ferguson makes her entrance in a slinky yellow gown at a performance of the Vienna State Opera’s “Tosca.” Bullets fly. She and Ethan Hunt meet cute and they end up escaping the terrorist thugs by rappelling off the building, but not before she asks Cruise’s character to save her shoes. I’m thinking Manolo Blahniks, probably. The scene stuck out for me because I can’t recall a woman in distress in a movie more concerned about her shoes than her own hide. I was reminded of this watching Sandra Bullock in the new Paramount release “The Lost City.” Bullock plays Loretta Page, a romance novelist forced to wear an outrageous purple sequined jumpsuit to launch her latest book. But she ends up wearing the jumpsuit like a suit of armor throughout most of the movie, and in the direst of circumstances, so it’s almost a character all its own. And in fact it plays a significant role in one pivotal scene. “Lost City” also stars Channing Tatum, who most recently played a charming former Army Ranger in “Dog.” Tatum is the cover model for Loretta’s novels and, as the central character Dash, enjoys a female following that outstrips even Loretta’s. But she dismisses him as a dim-witted hunk, and in the same way she dismisses her readership. Though known best for her pot-boilers, Page is actually an archaeologist by trade and an expert in dead languages. And that’s what gets her in trouble with a wealthy media baron, played by a winning Daniel Radcliffe, who believes she can help him recover a crown of precious jewels hinted at in one of her novels. All of this leads to a jungle adventure that mirrors, and even improves upon, Robert Zemeckis’s 1984 romp “Romancing the Stone,” with Michael Douglas and Kathleen Turner. Though here, Bullock’s character is no damsel in distress. She holds her own as a kind of female Indiana Jones, but saddled with what she thinks is a superficial gym rat whose only attributes are perfect pecs and abs. Yet Tatum’s character, whose real name is Alan, shows he’s more of a hero than anything Loretta has described in the pages of her books. And his vulnerability is on display in a cheeky scene where Alan doffs his clothes so Loretta can pull leeches from his backside. “The Lost City” is a romantic comedy that’s better than it has any right to be. And that might be due to the chemistry between the two leads. Tatum is proving to be a solid performer with more depth than his “Magic Mike” moves ever suggested and Bullock oozes the A-lister charm that has served her well in at least a dozen other films. There’s a scene late in the movie where the two engage in a sexy, Latin-flavored clinch. For a moment at least, “Lost City” is about two people losing themselves in an adventure of the heart.

Rick Douglas

March 10, 2022 Rick's Reviews

TRAVELS WITH LULU
“Dog” Review

I once had a sweet Golden Lab named Maggie. Or more accurately, my family had the dog, although whenever I was home from college or jobs beyond college, Maggie ignored everyone else to shadow me from morning to night. She even slept with her head on the pillow next to mine. I often woke up with her staring at me. As she got older, loud noises bothered her. And the Fourth of July might well have been Armageddon. The annual fireworks in the park next to our house sent her under the kitchen table, shivering with fear. In those moments when I held her close and could feel her heart beating wildly, I knew she had never loved me more. I flashed back to those moments watching “Dog,” the new only-in-theaters feature film from “Magic Mike” star Channing Tatum, his first movie role in five years. The story is as basic as they come. Jackson Briggs, a veteran of the conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan, is battling back from a serious brain injury, all the while trying to convince his commanding officer that he’s ready to serve again, despite occasional seizures. But the call, when it comes, isn’t about that. Instead, Briggs is asked to transport the K-9 named Lulu, herself an Army Ranger, and his Ranger friend’s fur buddy, to the friend’s funeral in Nogales, Arizona. Briggs, of course, isn’t a fan of dogs, or pets of any kind. And now must make the 15-hundred-mile drive from Joint Base Lewis-McChord in Tacoma, Washington, south along the entire Pacific Coast to the border with Mexico. And with a dog that has her own combat-related triggers. Lulu is a Belgian Malinois, and it took three of the breed to perform the required stunts. However, the film is seamless in that regard. From the start, Lulu is a handful—distrustful, destructive, seemingly uncontrollable. But Tatum, as Briggs, is up to the challenge, and in ways that really test his resolve to get the dog to the damn funeral. There are detours during the trek that suggest why Oregon prides itself on its weirdness, and why when in California, it pays to remove valuables from your vehicle. But the truth of the matter, and this really shouldn’t be a surprise, man and dog discover a bond that'll have you tearing up by story’s end. “Dog” doesn’t break new ground. But Tatum is charming and Lulu even more so. And if nothing else, the story is a fitting tribute to the courageous servicemen and women who have found that war may be hell, but peacetime is no picnic either.

Rick Douglas

Feb. 17, 2022 Rick's Reviews

DOUBLE CROSSES
“Uncharted” A Review

I am not a gamer, so the fact that “Uncharted” is based on a series of successful PlayStation videogames means nothing to me. And for that matter, I think my unfamiliarity with the source material works in my favor. Just as I try not to read books I know are going to be made into films, watching a story on the big screen without preconceived ideas about characters and places is why I go to the movies. I want to be surprised and, even better, entertained And I can say without hesitation that “Uncharted” is entertaining. Okay, so it tries too hard to be Indiana Jones for a new generation, but that’s a tall order, even with the star power of Spider-man of the moment Tom Holland. Instead, you might call it Indy Lite. The story begins with Holland’s character, Nate, flailing in mid-air, with his foot caught in the webbing of cargo falling from a plane, the containers strung together like oversized beads in a giant necklace. And he’s dodging bullets without a way to shoot back. So right off the bat, I’m in. But then it’s time for a back story and we’re thrust into the past, when Nate and his brother Sam are caught trying to steal a map from a museum detailing the voyage of Magellan because, well, Magellan had been hoarding gold and died trying to get the bounty home. And Sam thinks finding the missing treasure is a way for the two brothers to get rich. But they’re caught in the act and the subsequent arrest is a third strike for Sam at the orphanage where he and Nate had been living. However, before he can be booted, he escapes, leaving his little brother to wonder where and when they might meet up again. That was fifteen years ago, and all Nate has to go on since then are postcards Sam sends him from exotic places like Machu Picchu. Nate works as a bartender in an upscale club where he charms a female customer with his bartender shtick and then, in the middle of their schmooze, he lifts her very expensive diamond bracelet. Hey, tips go only so far. A stranger approaches Nate with a wild story about Magellan’s gold. As it happens, Sully, played by Mark Wahlberg, is impressed by Nate’s easy way as a pickpocket and needs help stealing a gold cross from an upcoming auction, a key that can unlock secrets that might lead to Magellan’s treasure. But it’s part of a pair. And double crosses have a lot to do with the way the story plays out, launching an adventure that has the duo globe-trotting from New York to Barcelona to the Philippines. Of course, they’re not alone in their quest. Where would the fun be in that? And in a nice twist, the villain here is a silver-haired vixen with knife skills even Bobby Flay would envy. By the way, don’t leave before the end credits. There’s more to this tale than a mere gold rush.

Rick Douglas

Feb. 10, 2022 Rick's Reviews

NUTS AND DOLTS
“Jackass Forever” A Review

I admit at the outset that I have managed, without much effort, to avoid the frat-comedy, torture porn reality show “Jackass” in its every incarnation. Although I know that its star and executive producer Johnny Knoxville holds a cherished place atop the pantheon of reality-TV pioneers. And if you’re looking for proof as to his longevity, not to mention superhuman durability, he now sports the silver locks of a man who’s earned his senior status. “Jackass Forever” has all the earmarks of a final chapter in the long-running series and maybe not a moment too soon. For the guys who were game for anything in their 20s now appear to be slightly cautious and a little bit too old for hijinks that can seriously harm bodies past their prime. In one setup, Knoxville fills a top hat with pig semen in the hopes he can survive an encounter with a charging bull and not spill a drop. Instead, the bull gets the better of him, with Knoxville flipping in a somersault that would earn top marks from Olympics judges and landing in a lump on the hard ground. He lies there motionless and the editing makes it appear that he might have been seriously injured. But next we cut to Knoxville being wheeled out of a hospital while he tosses off a list of what ails him: a broken wrist, a broken rib and a concussion, not to mention a bruised ego. And while not a lot of blood was spilled, a lot of pig semen was. But, thankfully, no “take two.” Honestly, there’s a lot of stuff in this pastiche of a movie that made me cringe: a Knoxville crony being hit repeatedly in the crotch in an escalating exercise of pain management, if not shameless bravado. First, he gets pummeled by a bruiser of a boxer with what’s billed as a knockout punch for the ages, then by a woman softball pitcher with a rocket launcher for an arm and, finally, by a professional hockey player who can place a puck with frightening precision. And later the same guy is strapped to a modified electric chair, his head covered in honey and his crotch in raw salmon. So, what fate awaits him? A hungry bear, of course. The bear lumbers in and devours the salmon but then takes curiosity a bit too far for the handler. Exit the bear. For fans of Knoxville’s celebrated antics, this is familiar ground and I suppose nothing he and his crew attempt on screen is ever too extreme. But “Jackass Forever” is rated R for many good reasons and the bulk of them involve penises. Including a framing device that opens and closes the movie, a spoof of a monster ravaging a city that, on closer inspection, isn’t in the same league as Godzilla. Think Fruit of the Loom.

Rick Douglas

Feb. 3, 2022 Rick's Reviews

FREAKS AND GEEKS
“Nightmare Alley” Review

Guillermo Del Toro doesn’t shy away from the macabre in anything he does, which makes him one of the most interesting and courageous filmmakers working today. That he can get a major studio to bankroll a remake of a classic film noir from 1947 is even more impressive in an era when Marvel and Disney seem to have a stranglehold on what gets made in Hollywood. Of course, it helped that his last major project, “The Shape of Water,” released in 2017, won the Oscar for Best Picture. “Nightmare Alley” begins with the silhouette of a man dragging what appears to be a corpse, wrapped in a heavy tarp. He drops the body into an opening in a wooden floor, lights a match and is next seen walking away from a house engulfed in flames. The arsonist and, we suspect, murderer is a man we come to know as Stanton Carlisle, played by Bradley Cooper, in full-on moustache and fedora. We soon learn he’s a drifter with a complicated past, a man on the run with enough secrets to fill a valise. He hops a bus and ends up at the end of the line—a dusty burg that’s hosting a Depression-era carnival. The carny manager is a con man played with gusto by Willem Dafoe who takes a shine to Carlisle and offers him a job and a dry mattress. Soon, Carlisle is part of this itinerant gang of freaks and geeks, including a man whose singular talent is biting off the heads of live chickens. He’s a wreck of a human being who lives in a cage when he isn’t performing for paying customers. For the curious, all it takes is a quarter and a strong stomach for this sort of sideshow entertainment. In time, Carlisle befriends a couple of mentalists who teach him their stock in trade: perfecting a grift that keeps on giving. Reading minds is a neat trick when you can handle the side hustle, they tell him. No ESP required. Just know how to profit off people’s vulnerabilities, if not their gullibility. But Carlisle isn’t satisfied with nickel-and-diming the carny crowd. He aspires to greater feats of fleecing the public. So, he and a performer who fakes daily “electrocution,” played by Rooney Mara, are off to Buffalo and a gig at a swanky nightclub where Carlisle wears a tuxedo and the aura of a Vegas-style showman. But one night he’s upstaged by a mysterious woman in the audience played by Cate Blanchett, an icy blonde with lips the color of blood, which seems by design. Lilith Ritter, as it happens, is a noted psychologist with devious designs on the hapless Carlisle and to say more would spoil the many twists the story takes from here. From a production standpoint, “Nightmare Alley” features passageways that get darker and narrower as the tale unfolds, suggesting a noose that’s tightening around our twisted hero or maybe a fate he cannot escape. Dressed in extravagant Art Deco, doom has never looked so good. And be aware that the word “geek” here doesn’t mean what you think it does. It can make the blood run cold. “Nightmare Alley” is Rated R

Rick Douglas

Jan. 6, 2022 Rick's Reviews

Untitled
West Side Story Review

When Steven Spielberg announced a while back that his next project would be a remake of "West Side Story," there were a lot of skeptics. Not that they thought Spielberg was incapable, but that it seemed a project not really worth doing. After all, the original movie, released in 1961, is considered a classic. I'm here to say that I consider it one of his best films. Granted, you can't go wrong with original music by Leonard Bernstein, but Spielberg brings a fresh eye to the staging of a beloved theater piece and an even more popular movie. To appreciate the artistry of the production, you need to accept the fact, apparent in both the Broadway version and the earlier film, that warring gangs, the Sharks and Jets, dance like coiled springs. So how tough can these guys really be when they're doing pirouettes? Plenty tough it turns out. The turf war between the hostile Irish and Italian old guard and the newly-arrived Puerto Ricans sets the tone for the dramatic heart of the story. Although Spielberg makes it plain from the first frame that it's sadly much ado about nothing. The Upper West Side is being bulldozed to make way for the now-iconic Lincoln Center complex. And where the earlier film opened with aerials of the New York skyline, Spielberg opts for a tracking shot of the detritus of demolished buildings and tilts up to a billboard announcing what amounts to a gentrifying neighborhood. Progress is really nothing to swoon over if all you've ever known is a down and out, bare-knuckled existence and your next date is with a wrecking ball. It's a fight you can't win, and certainly not with fists and a misplaced fury. "West Side Story," of course, is an updated version of Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet." That means--no surprise--this is a story that ends in tears. But getting there is a sumptuous adventure, a Technicolor treat. And the swirling and sinuous "America" was my favorite number. The music, adapted by David Newman, can't be improved upon, so he does his best to just get out of the way and let it envelop the movie-goer. Spielberg cast a virtual unknown, Rachel Zegler, as Maria and she is brilliant in the role. Her co-star, Ansel Elgort, is a competent singer, but no competition for Zegler. Doesn't matter, though. They shine as star-crossed lovers. Some critics, indifferent to Spielberg's endeavor, have asked why he bothered to remake a movie musical, even one with an astonishing pedigree, at a time when musicals in general have fallen out of favor? For me, it's all about the role of the arts. Where would we be without painters or composers, or dancers or musicians? They add life to life and you can't do much better than a movie that celebrates what binds us with unbridled passion.

Rick Douglas