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The Grab (2022)
A Challenge To Pull Off, Despite Good Intentions
Sometimes a story is so big and involved that it's difficult to get a handle on it. That can be quite a challenge for even the most adept documentarians and investigative reporters, no matter how eager or adept they may be in taking on such an ambitious project. And that, unfortunately, is the case with the latest offering from director Gabriela Cowperthwaite in her eight-year-long collaboration with journalist Nathan Halverson of The Center for Investigative Reporting. In essence, the film seeks to identify and characterize the new flashpoints underlying emerging geopolitical conflicts. Just as those in recent years have been driven by the compulsion to secure valuable energy supplies, today's budding battlegrounds are once again tied to acquiring access to precious resources - in this case, food and water, along with the aquifers, agricultural land and processing facilities needed to yield these commodities. Evidence of the desperate, growing need for obtaining these materials has already begun to surface - albeit not always overtly - in such incidents as the Arab Spring and even the War in Ukraine. And, because of this developing crisis, those interested in locking down these resources have started scrambling to acquire them, primarily clandestinely, in regions where they're most plentiful. These efforts have been spearheaded by multinational corporations and global financial institutions in cooperation with countries that are experiencing, or have historically experienced, critical food and water shortages, such as China, Russia, Venezuela and the nations of the Middle East. And, to help ensure the success of these ventures, they have enlisted the support of mercenary muscle to achieve their goals. High-profile targets, primarily in Africa and even parts of the US, have come under growing scrutiny, unscrupulously grabbed from their rightful owners and leaving them destitute as a result. Needless to say, this is an incredibly complicated story, one that's difficult to tell, and, regrettably, that's somewhat apparent in the finished product. While the work of Cowperthwaite and Halverson is undoubtedly sincere, having brought a great deal of previously buried information to light, it's nearly impossible to relate this complex narrative in a concise and coherent manner. Given the many story threads involved and the well-camouflaged structures that have been set up to keep the truth and its principal participants concealed, it's a genuine challenge to intelligibly expose the overarching nature of this highly convoluted big picture. Some elements are thus underdeveloped or left incomplete, making this film an often-frustrating watch. That's unfortunate considering the importance of this story, one that has been largely flying below the radar and certainly deserves to be more widely exposed and detailed. With that said, though, "The Grab" represents a valuable start, and one can only hope there will be more releases like this that manage to dig deeper and discover more. It's also heartening that the picture addresses some of the victories that have come about in combatting this issue, particularly those that have benefitted Africans who have been subjected to what is essentially a new form of continental colonization. In an age where increasing social and political volatility is arising due to a failure to effectively address the world's hunger, it's essential that we become aware of this issue before it gets out of hand and leads us down a path we don't dare pursue.
Kinds of Kindness (2024)
Don't Say You Weren't Warned
I'm going to say up front that this is a film I'm probably going to be processing for quite some time. The latest offering from writer-director Yorgos Lanthimos - best known for films like "The Lobster" (2015), "The Favourite" (2018) and "Poor Things" (2023) - is as much a puzzle as anything else. Told in three loosely interlaced stories with mostly the same cast members playing different roles in each, the film primarily deals in explorations of control and abuse examined from various angles. The individual stories plumb an array of additional subjects, including life, death, sanity, religion, cult membership, sexuality, dreams, surreality and self-indulgence, among others, most of which are tinged with exceedingly dark, macabre, cynical, satirical humor (evident even in its title) very much in the same vein as one of the filmmaker's other, more troubling releases, "The Killing of a Sacred Deer" (2017). Unlike that mess of a picture, though, "Kinds of Kindness" is somewhat more coherently structured, both in its individual segments and overall, even though the finished product still has an overly cryptic eccentricity that could have benefitted from better delineated refinement. To be sure, "Kindness" has its strong points, such as its sardonic humor that may often have you giggling at things that you probably think you shouldn't be laughing at. It also has strong performances from many of Lanthimos's regulars, including Emma Stone, Willem Dafoe and Margaret Qualley, along with newcomers Hong Chau and Jesse Plemons, winner of the Cannes Film Festival Best Actor Award (though I can't help but wonder what effect this film may have on the future of their careers, talent notwithstanding). And, much to my surprise, the pacing is fairly well sustained for a movie with a 2:45:00 runtime, probably because it holds viewer attention well, leaving audiences perpetually wondering where each of the vignettes is going next. On the downside, however, its graphic imagery, explicit sexuality, extreme violence and other questionable story elements may easily turn off some members (myself included at times), particularly when they push the limits of acceptability (sensitive viewers take note, especially animal lovers). So the bottom line questions here would be, "Did I like it?" and "Would I recommend it?" Well, that depends on how open one is to edgy content that clearly pushes the envelope. To be honest, there are things about this offering that I truly liked, but, then, my tastes tend to be more open-ended than those of many more conventional moviegoers. Because of that, however, this may consequently be seen as the kind of picture that many of those same audience members might find unduly troubling and offensive, readily labeling it as such and claiming that this is the sort of movie that gives many reviewers a bad name (and they probably wouldn't be entirely wrong in saying that). Lanthimos has certainly pushed limits in many of his previous works, such as "Poor Things," "The Lobster" and "The Favourite," but the edginess of those releases had a playful, warmer, more whimsical feel to them than this outing, which is much more akin to the disturbing shadowiness of a film like "Sacred Deer." Keep all of the foregoing in mind if you're contemplating a screening of this one. And, in any event, if you come away from it outraged, disappointed or confused, don't say you weren't warned.
The Mattachine Family (2023)
Hello, Sweetheart, Get Me Rewrite
When a film feels it has to beat its message to death to get it across, it loses much of its effectiveness, and that's very much the case with director Andy Vallentine's debut narrative feature. The picture tells the story of an upscale Los Angeles gay male couple, Thomas (Nico Tortorella) and Oscar (Juan Pablo Di Pace), who become foster parents to a six-year-old boy (Matthew Jacob Ocampo) whose drug-addicted mother (Colleen Foy) is incarcerated. But, when mom is released from prison, she wins back custody of the child to raise as her own, a development that tears Thomas apart. His anguish is exacerbated by many of his LGBTQ friends becoming parents and Oscar's lack of interest in fostering another youngster, causing a serious rift in their relationship. To its credit, the premise behind this comedy-drama is admittedly refreshing for a work of gay cinema, but its execution misses the mark due to its unoriginal, undercooked, redundant screenplay. For instance, some of the humor is decidedly catchy, but much of the basic dialogue sounds like it could have been pulled from episodes of Queer as Folk. And then there are the trite characters and scene settings, many of which resemble entries from the Big Book of Gay Stereotypes, a lazy approach to telling this picture's story. What's most tiresome, though, are Thomas's endless laments about losing custody of his foster child and his indecisiveness about how to resolve his despair, script elements that become irritatingly circular and repetitive. Even the title is somewhat problematic in that it could easily be interpreted in several ways, several of which could be taken as misleading (which I'm certain is not what was intended). In short, despite this production's attempts at doing something inventive and different, "The Mattachine Project" is nevertheless one of those projects that clearly should have gone through a few more rounds of revisions and rewrites before being committed to celluloid.
Fancy Dance (2023)
Comes Close But Doesn't Quite Hit the Mark
It's frustrating to watch a movie that gets most everything right but ends up going off the rails when it really counts. Such is the case with writer-director Erica Tremblay's third feature outing about a Native American woman (Lily Gladstone) from Oklahoma's Seneca-Cayuga Reservation who goes in search of her missing sister (Hauli Gray) at the Grand Nations Powwow in Oklahoma City with her 13-year-old niece (Isabel Deroy-Olson) in tow. But the duo's road trip odyssey soon turns into a statewide crime-ridden misadventure not unlike the narrative in "Thelma & Louise" (1991). Much of this multilayered tale is actually carried off quite skillfully, spotlighting the challenges that indigenous people (especially women) face and presenting a story with a capably executed, tension-filled, edge-of-your-seat quality, prompting viewers to wonder what's coming next. However, as the story wears on, it becomes increasingly implausible, culminating in a climax that's more than a little difficult to believe, its heartfelt sentiments notwithstanding. There are also some intriguing back story elements scattered throughout that, quite frankly, could have been better developed and resolved. That's indeed a shame, considering how these shortcomings undermine the production's many strong points. These weaknesses also take away from the outstanding performances of Gladstone (who turns in even better work here than in her Oscar-nominated role in "Killers of the Flower Moon" (2023)) and Deroy-Olson in her big screen debut, as well as an outstanding cast of supporting players. This AppleTV+ original truly has a lot in its favor, but it's unfortunate that it didn't carry through on its strengths throughout the entire film. A near hit but one that doesn't live up to its promise or potential.
Late Bloomers (2023)
Thankfully, It's Never Too Late To Grow Up
In an age where personal responsibility and accountability have become increasingly hard to come by, it's comforting to know that it's never too late to grow up, as evidenced in director Lisa Steen's debut feature outing. This touching yet insightful comedy-drama tells the story of Louise (Karen Gillan), a 28-year-old Brooklynite seriously in need of getting her act together. When the would-be musician breaks her hip while in a drunken stupor, she undergoes surgery to repair the damaged joint, but, while recovering in the hospital, she's assigned to a semi-private room with a cantankerous old woman who only speaks Polish, Antonina (Margaret Sophie Stein). Language considerations aside, they get off to a rough start on a variety of fronts. But, before long, Louise comes to understand and appreciate Antonina's simmering frustration with essentially being treated as though she's invisible and ends up, quite surprisingly, becoming her caretaker after being released from the hospital. And, through this unlikely relationship, Louise starts to take her own life more seriously, leaving her irresponsibility behind and finally living up to her obligations, most notably reconnecting with her mother, Dorothy (Talia Balsam), who's in the late stages of early onset Alzheimer's Disease. Based on this picture, it's certainly heartening to see that it's possible for those in need of getting their lives in order can still do so, even with some slip-ups along the way. "Late Bloomers" serves up a charming mix of laughs (many of them unexpected in nature) that are well integrated with its share of tender, sensitive moments, all brought to life by the excellent performances of the two leads and a host of colorful supporting players. There are a few points where the narrative meanders a bit, but these are more than made up for by everything that the filmmaker, cast and crew get right. Based on what I've seen here, I'm anxious to see what this director comes up with next, as this effort represents an auspicious start to what I hope and believe will be a promising filmmaking career.
Die goldenen Jahre (2022)
Putting the Luster in Our Golden Years
Retirement is supposed to be one of those times of life that we eagerly look forward to. Having the free time to do what we want, when we want, is thought to be liberating and thoroughly enjoyable. But, for some, the transition from full-time working life to full-time leisurely living can be challenging, especially in the relationships of long-partnered couples, as seen in this latest feature outing from director Barbara Kulcsar. When Peter Waldvogel (Stefan Kurt) retires from his job of 37 years, his wife, Alice (Esther Gemsch), looks forward to spending more time with him, growing closer and falling in love all over again, a process she hopes will begin with a Mediterranean cruise. But Peter is unsettled and restless, not sure what to do with himself. And, when a family friend suddenly dies, he becomes obsessed with his own mortality and well-being, so much so that it becomes irritating to Alice. She wants to enjoy life with her husband traveling, meeting new people and having new experiences. Those plans get thwarted at seemingly every turn, however, even when it comes to embarking on the cruise, developments that drive a widening wedge between Peter and Alice and threaten the very foundation of their marriage. Is this what retirement is supposed to be about? Alice doesn't think so, and these ever-intensifying circumstances push the couple to take a hard look at what their future will hold. In addressing this issue, the film presents a refreshingly honest take on what can emerge in the golden years of life, a time of transformation but not necessarily one that emerges in the form that we might have envisioned. Admittedly, some elements of the picture are rather predictable, but then there are also numerous twists and turns that take the story in unexpected directions. The film also would have benefitted from better audio quality (a growing problem with many releases these days) and a score that doesn't sound like it was plucked from a 1980s Neil Simon movie. However, the performances of this offering's fine ensemble cast, its beautiful cinematography of European locales, and its delightful and sometimes edgy humor make this romantic comedy-drama an enjoyable watch, now available online and in limited theatrical release. Undoubtedly, we'd all like for our golden years to live up to their hoped-for luster, and, if we approach them realistically, they truly can, as long as we provide the necessary spit and polish to make that happen.
Janet Planet (2023)
Brings New Meaning to the Word 'Boring'
There's a difference between minimalist and vacuous, and writer-director Annie Baker doesn't seem to know the difference. The playwright's debut feature, to put it simply, is boring, pretentious, meandering, unfocused and a big, fat waste of time. It's so dull, in fact, that the film makes the works of Kelly Reichardt appear utterly fascinating. Set in 1991 in the hippie-dominated arts community of rural western Massachusetts, the film follows the story (if one could even call it that) of middle-aged acupuncturist Janet (Julianne Nicholson) as she struggles to sort out what appears to have been a wayward, meandering life. And, as this tale plays out, it faithfully sticks to that course, too, an influence that's clearly wearing off on Janet's equally clueless, incessantly brooding, 8-year-old daughter, Lacy (newcomer Zoe Ziegler). Along the way, the duo experiences an array of cryptic, inconsequential involvements with others who are apparently fascinated with Janet (though goodness knows why), all of whom (Will Patton, Sophie Okonedo, Elias Koteas) are just as lost and boring as Janet is. So what's the point in all this? Who knows - and, not long into the picture, who cares? The raves that have been showered on this tedious, tiresome piece of filmmaking are a complete mystery to me, given its prevailing mundane nature and monotone performances by players who all sound like they've been shot up with sodium pentothal. Nicholson, in particular, comes across as so disengaged that she probably could have just as easily phoned in this performance (despite claims that this is the breakthrough role that she's supposedly been waiting for - please, watch her in "August: Osage County" (2013) instead). What's more, this picture probably has some of the worst sound quality I've ever seen in a contemporary production - so bad that I had to struggle to be able to hear what was being said (and I was sitting in the theater's second row). And the film's feeble attempts at trying to incorporate some kind of subtle, nuanced metaphysical undercurrent fail miserably as well, treated almost as if their inclusion was an afterthought. If you dare to consider giving this one a look, make sure you don't watch it when you're tired - you just might fall asleep soon after the opening credits roll, an understandable reaction, to be sure.
A Quiet Place: Day One (2024)
More Than Just a Few Good Scares
Smart horror films are one movie genre of which not nearly enough offerings are produced. These pictures are proof positive that edgy, spooky stories can be successfully made without having to kill off the cast or engage in spectacles of gratuitous gore. The works of filmmakers like Jordan Peele and Alex Garland exemplify this, as do the three releases in this impressive franchise. And this latest entry is, without a doubt, the best of the lot. "Day One" draws upon the mythology introduced in the series' first two films, but it takes matters in a new, more insightful direction and does so, ironically, by way of a prequel going back to the origin of this gripping, ongoing saga. What separates this film from what preceded it, however, is that it presents yet another story in the franchise but from an entirely new angle, with new characters, a new setting, and a new, more profound, more nuanced focus. Instead of small-town America, where the first two pictures were set, this offering takes place in New York City, showing what happens when the Big Apple is attacked by the now-familiar aliens that hunt by way of sound as the means for finding their prey - and the measures that surviving humans must take to stay silent to keep from being spotted. The narrative principally follows a terminally ill poet (Lupita Nyong'o) living in hospice care who has become resigned to the fate of her impending death but now seeks to stay alive at all costs, most notably in helping a frightened Englishman living in Gotham (Joseph Quinn) and protecting her beloved (and adorable) comfort cat. These circumstances give her a new purpose at a time when she might have otherwise completely given up hope. In telling this story, the film also examines the perils of having to suddenly adjust to a "new normal" under unpredictable conditions, as well as the need for all of us to pull together in a united front in the wake of these trying circumstances. But there's more to it than that, including metaphorical themes and symbolic imagery that truly make this more than just a horror film (and even more than just a smart horror movie at that). While it's true the story meanders somewhat at times, it nevertheless presents viewers with a thoughtful tale, punctuated by excellent camera work, a fine soundtrack and a superb, award-worthy performance by Nyong'o. Even if you haven't seen the two previous films in this series or have much interest in this genre, writer-director Michael Sarnoski's second feature outing is well worth your time. It's a smart, smart, smart film that rises far above what one might typically expect from a horror flick - and one that will leave you with a lot more than just a few good scares upon exiting the theater.
Thelma (2024)
Don't Mess with the Old Lady
According to playwright David Mamet, "Age and treachery will always beat youth and exuberance." And, if 93-year-old Thelma Post (June Squibb) has anything to say about it in this fact-based action-comedy-drama, you can take that notion to the bank. In this story of a spry but sometimes-gullible widowed retiree living on her own, we watch - often in jaw-dropping awe - a feisty, independently minded senior determined to get her money back when she's scammed out of her funds in a phone-based phishing scheme. Thelma says nothing about her plan to her family (Fred Hechinger, Parker Posey, Clark Gregg), who are already concerned about her ability to continue living on her own, and recruits the assistance of a wily old friend (Richard Roundtree) to join her in her quest to retrieve the stolen cash. The result is an uproarious farce featuring humor that's clearly outlandish but never implausible or over the top. But there's more to this offering than laughs - the sight of capable, underestimated elderly folks taking charge over their lives (and, in the case of this picture, even performing their own stunts!) is truly inspiring. This is backed by a potent, poignant (though never preachy) underlying look at what it's like to grow old and the losses that come with it, a bittersweet meditation on the inevitable changes that come with age and how all too quickly they arrive, material that's deftly and often philosophically interwoven with the comedy. Director Josh Margolin's debut feature represents an impressive premiere for the writer-actor, featuring a superbly penned, well-balanced, evenly paced script relating the experiences of his own 103-year-old grandmother, who's still alive and kicking and whose real-life home was used as one of the film's principal movie sets. It's also a triumph for 94-year-old Squibb in her career's first-ever lead role, one worthy of Oscar contention that effectively depicts a wide-ranging talent that's been bottled up for far too long. And the film is a fine showcase for Roundtree in his final feature film performance, one in which we see him in a different light from many of his previous roles and in which he's perfectly matched with his cunning co-star. My only issue with the picture is with the portrayal of Thelma's family, in which the development of its three principals never comes off quite right, seemingly reaching for something that doesn't gel properly, an aspect of the narrative that clearly could have used some further refinement. Otherwise, though, "Thelma" (or "Thelmaf" as it was known in an alternate version of the title) is one of the funniest, best produced releases that I've seen in quite some time. So hop on your scooter and get your behind to see this one - or else.
Robot Dreams (2023)
A Cute, Heartfelt, Fun Look at Relationships
In an age where the lines of what makes for a successful relationship have become increasingly blurred (and simultaneously more liberating), we're seeing all manner of partnership combinations emerge that are just as valid as conventional models, no matter how different they may appear. And thank goodness for that, as evidenced by the profound connection depicted in this delightful animated feature from writer-director Paul Berger. In a diversely multicultural version of 1980s New York (some might more correctly call it a multi-species zootropolis), Dog is a lonely soul. He longs to find someone to make his life fulfilled, a dream that appears to come true when he purchases an Amica 2000 Robot. Once activated, Robot and Dog quickly bond and spend a fun summer getting to know one another and enjoying each other's company. But, when a late summer beach outing inadvertently separates them until the following spring, each is left alone, wondering if they'll ever see one another again, despite often dreaming about what such a reunion may hold. During this separation, though, both parties begin to realize what could occur if they never reconnect, prompting them to consider how to forge new forms of companionship. But will those alternative arrangements be satisfying, or will their longing for one another never let up? These are the kinds of relationship questions that many of us face in life, so the circumstances ring familiar, even if the parties involved are vastly different from us. The result is a warm, touching, heartfelt story that's decidedly sweet and cute (though never cutesy), with more than a few bittersweet moments to keep it real. The picture's charming, imaginative animation presents a whimsical, nuanced view of the Big Apple in the late 20th Century with virtually no dialogue but backed with a killer soundtrack. The narrative, based on a graphic novel by Sara Varon, is a bit sluggish at times (especially in the film's opening half) with some sequences that could have been trimmed or eliminated. In fact, some have contended that "Robot Dreams" is a glorified short that's been needlessly padded to stretch out its runtime, though that's a view I don't share, despite my belief that this release would have benefitted from some judicious editing. As a general rule, I'm not an overly huge fan of animation, since much of it in my mind is excessively silly, manic and inane (especially among American productions), so I tend to pick what I screen in this genre very selectively. However, when animation works well, its offerings frequently turn my head, as this one often does. This Oscar-nominated title is a fun little picture that will surely put a smile on your face and tug at the heartstrings, and that's something worth dreaming about.
Tuesday (2023)
Profound, Whimsical and Moving
Fables often make for intriguing storytelling and engaging cinematic experiences. And such is the case for the debut feature from writer-director Daina Oniunas-Pusic, a whimsical yet profound tale about the acceptance of death (or, more precisely, the ability to move beyond that and learn how to make friends with death). It's told through the experience of 15-year-old Tuesday (Lola Petticrew), a terminally ill adolescent whose mother, Zora (Julia Louis-Dreyfus), is struggling to accept the inevitable. Zora looks for excuses to avoid spending time with her daughter, because she's unable to face the impending truth. But, when death itself suddenly and unexpectedly appears to claim Tuesday, taking the form of a talking, shape-shifting parrot (voiced by Arinzé Kene), Zora's hand is forced. Somewhat surprisingly, Tuesday reconciles herself to her fate rather easily and subsequently ends up spending most of her remaining time trying to help her mother understand the nature of what's about to happen - and what will unfold if it doesn't, consequences with larger implications. In doing so, the film gets into some deeply meaningful material, presenting insights that most of us probably have never considered, let alone explored, shedding an entirely new light on the essence of death, as well as the tremendous burden it has placed on its ornithological messenger. The result is a truly moving story, one that deftly mixes joy and sadness, pathos and humor, and anger and sympathy, not only for mother and daughter, but also for death itself and the wider world of which we're all a part. The narrative certainly gives viewers much to contemplate, introducing notions that might well raise eyebrows and perhaps even ruffle a few feathers (no pun intended) for those accustomed to more conventional interpretations of this subject. But, in the end, the picture provides a fresh, more mature take on these concepts. Admittedly, the pacing sags a touch in the middle, and the flow of the story may seem somewhat strange or a tad unfocused at times. What's more, some may question the reasoning behind why death appears as a talking parrot (but, then again, why should it necessarily take some of the more familiar forms we have seen in other stories, such as the grim reaper, for instance?). The film features fine performances, most notably the best screen work Louis-Dreyfus has ever turned in. It also respectfully recalls material presented previously in such perceptively prescient tales as the moving Australian comedy-drama "Baby Teeth" (2019) and the classic Twilight Zone episode "Nothing in the Dark" (1962) featuring a very young Robert Redford. Still, the premise may strike some as odd, absurd or implausible, but, then, when have fables, fairy tales or opera librettos ever faithfully stuck to the tried and true? Suspend your disbelief for this one, and sit back and immerse yourself in what it has to say. You may never look at death the same way ever again.
Dune: Part Two (2024)
If You Thought the First Part Was Boring...
As a big sci-fi/fantasy fan, I generally look forward to seeing new releases in this genre. However, when the first part of this story was released in 2021, I was sorely disappointed by this tedious, overlong slog that, despite its stunning visuals and cinematography, never really engaged me. Though, for all my disappointment with the initial installment, it can't begin to compare to my reaction to "Part Two" - an even more tedious, unengaging, overly complicated offering that had me bored by 20 minutes in. I found myself not caring a whit about the characters or their story (which could have used a scorecard to help viewers sort out everything), and even the supposedly superior visuals of this iteration failed to capture my attention or interest. I can only conclude that I must be missing something, given the generally positive reactions and accolades this film and its predecessor have received, but I'm mystified that I haven't yet figured out what. By all rights, the elements would appear to be in place here to make this picture succeed - a stellar cast, great special effects and the skillful directing of filmmaker Denis Villeneuve, who created such excellent works as "Arrival" (2016) and "Blade Runner 2049" (2017) - but "Part Two," like its predecessor, just never grabbed me. To be honest, I'm truly surprised that I made it all the way through, considering the nearly constant temptation to want to fast-forward through the egregiously dull sequences (of there were many). From all this, I can only surmise that this film and the one that preceded it were created simply to milk as much box office money as possible out of the source material, despite the fact that the story isn't captivating enough to live up to that challenge. Indeed, if you're like me and found the first part boring, you'll probably find this one even more tiresome and lackluster (I'm certainly glad that I waited for this one to come to streaming and didn't waste my money on theater ticket prices). And now, as I understand it, another sequel, "Dune: Messiah," is in pre-production to continue a story that has still yet to reach conclusion after more than five hours of screentime. Be aware that the "Dune" films are far from the quality of other lengthy trilogies like the "Lord of the Rings" and "Dark Knight" series, films that definitely hold viewer interest from start to finish. Instead, "Dune" and "Dune: Part Two" are more like such mind-numbing stand-alone offerings as "Heaven's Gate" (1980), "Ishtar" (1987) and "Tenet" (2020) than anything of a genuinely epic nature. Treat the hype for this one with a hefty grain of salt, and don't say you weren't warned.
I.S.S. (2023)
Undercooked and Drawn Out
It's unfortunate that a good premise can't be saved from poor execution, but such is the case with this undercooked sci-fi thriller. When three Americans and three Russians aboard the International Space Station are stranded there when war breaks out between the two countries on Earth, the previously congenial crewmates turn against one another when the two teams of astronauts each receive orders to take control of the facility at any cost. The question in this, of course, is why? As a scientific research center, what material value would there be in taking charge of a remote space-based facility to the Earth-bound survivors of a war-ravaged planet? While the reasoning behind this is eventually explained, its revelation is delayed, leaving viewers with a drawn-out mystery that doesn't make much apparent sense, especially when taking control calls for a team of intelligent, convivial, supposedly mature scientists to instantaneously turn into murderous territorial thugs. And, even when the big reveal is finally made, it seems like it's hardly justification enough for this kind of behavior from a group of individuals who are allegedly more psychologically evolved and have supposedly risen above the infantile geopolitical bickering of their counterparts on terra firma. That's particularly true in light of the many (and I do mean many) references to the crew's "enlightened" outlook and assumed solidarity, qualities that are repeatedly browbeaten into viewers in the film's opening act. The fault here lies with a rather lame narrative and a screenplay that doesn't do much to overcome that failing. The special effects are also somewhat underwhelming for a sci-fi offering, one in which the filmmakers could have done considerably more to make the picture more visually engaging. Sadly, director Gabriela Cowperthwaite, perhaps best known for the superb documentary "Blackfish" (2013), is in over her head with this release, a project that really could have used a more skillful hand in making it the kind of edge-of-your-seat thriller that it deserved to be. Instead, audiences are left with a mediocre sci-fi tale that feels more like something one would find on the SyFy Channel or some other B-grade cable network. You won't miss much by skipping this one.
The Old Oak (2023)
Seeking the Virtues of Common Ground
A lack of familiarity can produce so many needless problems, especially when it involves individuals about whom we know little or nothing. That lack of understanding can consequently yield issues that plainly aren't warranted and, more importantly, can be easily dispensed with by simply taking the time to find common ground. Such is the case in what is said to be the final film from legendary director Ken Loach, who tells the story of a group of Syrian refugees who relocate and settle in an economically depressed former coal mining town in northern England. The locals, who themselves are struggling to get by, are far from welcoming to the new arrivals, who have essentially lost everything and are merely looking for a place to start over. In many respects, both constituencies have much in common, but their unfamiliarity with one another gets in the way, leading to friction between them, especially on the part of the town's long-term residents, who feel they're being crowded out and left behind. But hope is not lost, thanks to the efforts of the owner (Dave Turner) of the community's principal local meeting place, a rundown pub called The Old Oak. He befriends one of the new arrivals, a young woman and would-be photographer (Ebla Mari), who manages to ingratiate herself into the lives of the barkeep and many other local residents. Their connection is not without its challenges, but the solidarity that emerges from it helps bring people together who might not do so otherwise. The style of filmmaking and narrative themes in this offering are classic Loach, recalling many of the works this prolific director has made for nearly 60 years, and, in many ways, it feels like the perfect send-off for this thought-provoking artist. Some story elements are, admittedly, rather predictable, and the ending feels somewhat truncated and abrupt, with a few story threads that aren't fully resolved. Nevertheless, the filmmaker has made the kind of parting statement here that he's been making in his other noteworthy works about the perils of the downtrodden, the need to help them and the necessity for fostering an intrinsic sense of fairness in the lives of us all. And what better way is there for a talent like Loach to say his last goodbye.
Am I OK? (2022)
No, This One's Not OK
Coming out isn't always an easy process, especially for anyone who has lingering doubts about his or her sexual orientation. However, given the prevailing conditions present in contemporary society, this gay comedy-drama from directors Stephanie Allynne and Tig Nataro stretches credibility where that notion is concerned. Thirty-two-year-old Angelino Lucy (Dakota Johnson) can't figure herself out sexually speaking. She's not particularly interested in men, as her sometimes-male companion, Ben (Whitmer Thomas), finds out, but she's not sure if she's genuinely attracted to women. She spends considerable time with her bestie, Jane (Sonoya Mizuno), a straight woman whom she's known for years but who is also about to relocate from Los Angeles to London for work, a development about which Lucy has mixed feelings. So, when Lucy at last opens up to Jane about her possible lesbian leanings, she does all she can to get her friend a date before she leaves for England. But, somewhat perplexingly, Lucy hesitates at every turn, fearful of what might transpire. And therein lies the problem with this film - it's just not believable. If this picture were made (or set) 40 years ago, when social acceptance of alternative lifestyles was more problematic, then it would probably come across as more plausible. But, given current conditions, it's simply not convincing. If Lucy were to live in an isolated conservative small town, it might be more conceivable, but she lives in Los Angeles, for goodness sake, where alternative sexuality is virtually a prerequisite for residency. Lucy's exaggerated whining about her reluctance to move forward grows tiresome, too, and it's easy to see why Jane loses patience with her. That's a problem compounded by Johnson's underwhelming performance, which is annoying and anything but persuasive. The script's humor is fairly thin, too, save for the laughs generated in cameo appearances by LGBTQ+ icons like Sean Hayes and Nataro, who delivers a positively hilarious performance as a deadpan New Age retreat facilitator. But the film genuinely could use more of these edgy narrative elements (along with greater overall believability) to succeed as a viable release. In fact, given Nataro's reputation as a source of outrageously sidesplitting comedy, this project is surprisingly tame and inherently more conventional than what one would expect out of someone so innately talented. The picture's aptly timed streaming release for Pride Month isn't at all unexpected, but it's genuinely unfortunate that this just isn't a very good movie. Gay cinema has come a long way in recent decades, but this offering feels like an anachronistic throwback to the early days of the genre. We've seen stories much like this before, but the LGBTQ+ community deserves something more inventive - and better overall - at this point.
Gojira -1.0 (2023)
Enough Already
In the interest of full disclosure, I've never been a fan of Japanese monster movies, and, considering how many times the Godzilla story has been told so far, I've never been particularly interested in seeing any of them (after all, how many different variations can realistically be incorporated into the big guy's single-minded mythos?). In any event, I relented in this case, because I was admittedly curious to see the film's Oscar-winning visual effects, which, in all honesty, weren't bad (though definitely not outstanding - how this picture bested the far-superior visuals of "The Creator" truly baffles me). However, capable special effects and production design considerations aside (the basis for the generous ratings I've given to this title), this release has little else to offer that hasn't already been depicted countless times before. What's more, the film's attempts at trying to incorporate post-World War II political commentary and to be more than just a simplistic monster movie are fairly lame. Its non-devastation story threads are frequently predictable, heavy-handed, slowly paced, occasionally corny, often implausible, and, above all, boring. I frankly couldn't wait for these segments to end and get back to the supposed "it" factor - the monster's destructive hijinks (of which, to be perfectly honest, there were too few, given that this is supposed to be this offering's primary drawing card). Even the title of this production needs work; any picture that requires a Google search to find out what it's supposed to mean has inherent issues in my book. To its credit, writer-director Takashi Yamazaki's effort to elevate the Godzilla narrative above the B movie camp fest level genuinely seems sincere, but the end product is little more than the standard item with better visuals and a well-intentioned (but largely failed) aim at infusing the story with more substantive content. In light of the many iterations of this saga that have been filmed over the years, I think it's high time to give the persecuted sea monster a well-deserved rest for a while - a long while - and get on with the business of making movies that aren't tiresome retreads and that at last give Tokyo a chance to rebuild.
Nu astepta prea mult de la sfârsitul lumii (2023)
Inventive and Ambitious But Overlong
Some may find it discouraging to look upon the world with a robustly cynical outlook, yet, given prevailing conditions in the world today, it may sometimes be unavoidable, an attribute reflected in many contexts, including art and cinema. And that's just what Romanian writer-director Radu Jude has done in his latest feature outing, a biting, darkly satirical comedy-drama that lays bare many of the everyday frustrations that his countrymen experience in areas like politics, corruption and economic opportunities. The film tells this story through the experiences of Angela Raducani (Ilinca Manolache), an overworked, underpaid, sleep-deprived movie production assistant as she struggles to make it through her daily work routine, an unappreciated effort not unlike that thrust upon many contemporary Romanians. To compensate for the tedium of her career and to let off some considerable pent-up steam, Angela makes short videos of her own featuring a foul-mouthed, sexually provocative male alter-ego, Bobitja, who swears like a sailor and describes explicit erotic encounters that would make a porn star blush. She also wrestles with the many self-serving demands of her arrogant Austrian corporate sponsors and a bloated Romanian bureaucracy that proves ineffectual in resolving property ownership issues related to her family's cemetery plots. Moreover, the picture draws uncanny parallels in the living and working conditions experienced by the nation's present-day residents with those who lived under the Communist dictatorship of Nicolae Ceausescu in the 1980s, presented here through intercut thematically linked film clips from the 1982 Romanian melodrama "Angela merge mai departe" ("Angela Moves Forward"), the story of a taxi driver whose circumstances mirror those of the beleaguered PA. It all makes for quite an intriguing and engaging mix of story elements, one the holds viewer attention well for about two-thirds of the release, especially in its deliciously bawdy, ribald humor. However, with a 2:43:00 runtime, it becomes somewhat trying as a comedy (and as a movie overall), serving up an excess of almost everything. Unlike comparably long offerings such as "Triangle of Sadness" (2022), which manage to successfully sustain their humor for such a lengthy duration, this effort starts getting repetitive, running out of gas to keep propelling it forward, especially in the somewhat exasperating final half-hour. Like Jude's previous release, "Bad Luck Banging or Loony Porn" ("Barbardeala cu bucluc sau porno balamuc") (2021), this outing definitely could have benefitted from some judicious editing, particularly in its endless footage of the protagonist driving through heavy Bucharest traffic. To the filmmaker's credit, "End of the World" deserves kudos for its irreverence and its ambitious inventiveness and willingness to try the untried, but this is yet another example of a project where the creator fails to kill his darlings, an undertaking that could have been accomplished successfully in lobbing off about 20 minutes of extraneous material, especially in the closing moments. This one is worth a look if you're willing to be patient with it, as that's essential to make your way through all the way to the end. But, if you don't go in with that attitude, you might be expecting too much from the end of the film.
The Boys in the Boat (2023)
Bland, Uninspired and Predictable
When it comes to underdog stories, there are offerings that are decidedly inspirational and those that are riddled with clichés. As for the latest in this genre from director George Clooney, the film falls squarely in the latter category. Although capably made for the most part, this fact-based account about the 1936 US Olympic gold medal-winning eight-man rowing team is positively rife with shopworn predictable sports story tropes, nearly all of which can be handily spotted from a mile away. While period piece production values and cinematography are generally solid, much of the rest of the picture is about as pedestrian as one can get, from the screenplay to the narrative to the performances. The release also features some unusual camera work and film editing, most of which adds nothing and comes across as more puzzling than anything else. What's more, there are few meaningful tie-ins to the site of the 1936 Games - Berlin in Adolph Hitler's Germany - an aspect of the story that serves as little more than a backdrop but carries few, if any, other connotations. To be honest, I expect more from a filmmaker like Clooney in terms of cinematic imagination and inventiveness, but those attributes are almost entirely lacking here. In short, "The Boys in the Boat" is fundamentally bland and unengaging - by no means a bad film but certainly a second-rate production that fails to get viewers particularly excited, enthused or inspired.
Babes (2024)
Fails To Deliver
How disappointing it is when you see a movie that you were looking forward to only to walk away unimpressed, if not largely disappointed. So it is with director Pamela Adlon's debut feature, a comedy-drama about the wild and crazy relationship between two lifelong thirtysomething New York BFFs (Ilana Glazer, Michelle Buteau) who share the experiences of pregnancy, childbirth and parenthood while struggling to maintain the kind of free-spirited friendship they had before becoming mothers. The narrative consists of a series of vignettes - some outrageous, some touching, some serious - involving various aspects of their connection, their individual lives and their interactions with others. Unfortunately, these episodes are wildly inconsistent, regardless of their nature. Some work well (especially, surprisingly enough, those that get unapologetically down and dirty with unbridled raunchy humor), but most others fall stunningly flat for a variety of reasons. The biggest problem here is the writing, which frequently tries far too hard to make the material work. Some segments simply aren't funny, relying on excessive exhausting mugging and overacting to win over audience members and unsuccessfully persuade them otherwise. Others are utterly preposterous and implausible (despite trying to come across as "zany" or "outrageous"), lacking credibility in terms of plot devices, character development and story flow. And others still are just plain inauthentic, particularly when driven by the strained chemistry between the two often-immature leads, whose supposed bond simply isn't convincing. What's more, when the film unsuccessfully tries to turn serious, scenes that are supposed to move and touch viewers don't work, because the film doesn't do enough to engender sufficient interest in the protagonists, their challenges or their relationship with one another. To its credit, the film features some fine performances by supporting cast members (John Carroll Lynch, Stephan James, Elena Ouspenskaia), but the leads grow progressively tiresome, especially the longer the movie drones on. In short, "Babes" is a big misfire that fails to deliver despite a few modest laughs along the way. Best bet for this one? Wait for it to come to streaming.
Your Fat Friend (2023)
A Revealing Walk in Someone Else's Shoes
They say you can never truly understand what it's like to feel what someone else experiences until you've walked a mile in his or her shoes. That's often been said about many of those in minority communities, and, thankfully, some progress in understanding appears to have been made in those cases over the years. But one segment of society in which little advancement has been made involves those who are appreciably bigger than many in the mainstream (i.e., those who are fat). For some reason, fat folks continue to be systematically marginalized - if not outright derided - in countless ways, and there's often been little that they can do about these pervasive attacks. Now, however, writer-director Jeanie Finlay's new documentary profile of author/podcaster/fat activist Aubrey Gordon sheds new light on what individuals affected by this condition face on a daily basis. This includes the persistent lack of meaningful accommodations in areas like effective health care, transportation and garment manufacturing, not to mention the ignorant, cruel, short-sighted and insensitive comments made by others, including those who mistakenly think they're operating from a standpoint of good intentions. The film explores Gordon's journey from an anonymous (and devastatingly ridiculed) blogger to best-selling author who came out of the closet about her weight circumstances and made public the often-overlooked anguish experienced by people of size. The film holds back little in terms of exposing the unbridled scorn thrust upon her and those who are similarly situated, while simultaneously celebrating the overflowing shower of support bestowed on her by others like her who now feel that there's someone in their camp to make their feelings and the truth of their circumstances known. The picture also goes on record exposing the many myths and lies that have been long perpetuated about fat people and the volumes of bad, uninformed advice they have received for decades, particularly from the medical community, many of whose members don't have a clue when it comes to what they're talking about. Admittedly, the material covered in the film could be a little better organized at times, especially when it turns redundant, as it does on several occasions. There is also a fair amount of unrelated incidental footage that probably could have been cut without losing much. However, this offering provides a wealth of information on the widely circulated misinformation about fatness, and, as anyone who has endured these conditions - like me, in the interest of full disclosure - can attest, it's refreshing and liberating to see an advocate step forward who is not afraid to call out those who are hurtful, ignorant and deceitful when it comes to this subject. "Your Fat Friend" draws all of these issues into focus and delivers a polite but undeniably pointed middle finger to those who perpetuate misguided attitudes and ideas that ultimately serve no one - yet end up unintentionally or deliberately hurting so many.
Power (2024)
Raises Awareness But Offers Few Solutions
Questions about unchecked police power have become one of today's hot button social issues, and the public is deeply divided about it, depending on who one speaks with. Writer-director Yance Ford's latest pours ample fuel onto this fire with a cinematic essay that clearly has an impassioned view on the subject, making a strong case that some will obviously agree with but that others are likely to decry as an agenda-driven leftist treatise. Through a series of interviews with academics who have studied the issue and criminal justice insiders, viewers are shown the dual-edged sword surrounding this subject. While the film acknowledges that there is a need for policing in light of the prevalence of violent crime, it also argues that the supposed deterrent to this problem - a greater police presence with wider, legally sanctioned latitude in carrying out its mission - is simultaneously contributing to its growth, circumstances that have long gone unrecognized and/or willfully ignored as a result of longstanding prejudicial societal conditions that have only furthered the proliferation of this issue. Those conditions, in turn, are dissected in terms of how and why they fell into place through the years as a means to curtail the freedoms of those who were seen as posing an inherent (if somewhat overblown and paranoic) threat to the social order imposed by an entitled power structure (namely, anyone whose demographic attributes didn't match those of the self-appointed elite). Archive footage thus explores the efforts of early police forces to contain the lives and activities of slaves, indigenous peoples, immigrants and labor organizers, all of whom were considered suspect simply by virtue of their own innate identities. And, from these dubiously sanctioned roots, the power of those in charge has only grown more formidable and pervasive in forcefully holding down those who are perceived as dangers to the status quo, such as student radicals, social and political opponents, and others outside "the mainstream," thanks to the supply of increasingly alarming means more typical of paramilitary operations than the civilized maintenance of law and order necessary for the functioning of a supposedly mature democracy. Good cases are made in favor of these arguments, to be sure. And, in all fairness, the film incorporates the views of constituents within the system who are legitimately trying to reform it internally. Admittedly, though, "Power" has a tendency to become somewhat circular in making its point, redundantly repeating its genuinely valid contentions but without offering solutions to a scenario that only seems to growing worse without impactful efforts to contain it, a decidedly missed opportunity to meaningfully address the situation. Perhaps that's what is needed next, with this offering serving primarily to draw attention to and raise awareness of the issue, but I think the public at large is already sufficiently cognizant of the situation that this release could have gone farther in tackling its subject. Sustained recognition of the problem is certainly a noteworthy takeaway from this production, but it's unfortunate that it didn't seek to expand on that notion and offer us more in terms of providing answers - and hope for the future.
I Like Movies (2022)
The Cost of Comeuppance
It's admirable when someone has obvious enthusiasm for a personal passion and is eager to share that sentiment with others. However, it's something else entirely when that burgeoning zeal is expressed with condescension, arrogance and disdain toward others when they share their views on the subject. That's the issue 17-year-old Canadian high school senior Lawrence Kweller (Isaiah Lehtinen) wrestles with when it comes to his love of movies. As an aspiring film student seeking to attend New York University after graduating as part of the class of 2003, he speaks about his obsession - often quite naively - as a pompous, self-absorbed aesthete who doesn't know as much as he thinks he does (and doesn't realize it either). He routinely puts down fellow students in his media studies class, co-workers at the video store where he works, his widowed, hard-working single mother who struggles to make ends meet and even his supposed best friend and film project collaborator, Matt (Percy Hynes White). While it's true that some of Lawrence's behavior is attributable to psychological troubles and personal trauma, there are limits to what others will tolerate. The result of this is a series of hard lessons in comeuppance, especially when his inflated, entitled attitude is slapped back by those looking to put him in his place. Writer-director Chandler Levack's debut feature serves up a smart, sassy, edgy comedy-drama about learning how to be legitimately inspired and impassioned without making an insufferable ass out of oneself, youthful inexperience notwithstanding. The picture is loaded with hilarious and poignant movie references that avid cinephiles are sure to love and appreciate, as well as an array of sidesplitting coming of age bits that probably take many of us back to the geeky ways of our own adolescence. Admittedly, some of the story threads seem a little implausible and don't work as well as they might have (especially in the final act), and a few of the jokes - though funny - nevertheless stand alone like comic islands that seem disconnected from the main narrative. Nevertheless, "I Like Movies" is an otherwise-whimsical, delightful, engaging indie gem that will remind us of what it was once like to be idealistic yet blissfully ignorant, one that we can only hope will leave an indelible impression on younger viewers whose off-screen behavior tends to mirror that of the protagonist. Indeed, it's one thing to love movies, but it's something else entirely to think that life operates the same way.
I Saw the TV Glow (2024)
A Pretentious Cinematic Train Wreck
After watching this piece of incoherent, unfocused rubbish, I would have much rather watched the TV glow instead. Writer-director Jane Schoenbrun's incomprehensible smart horror offering is an absolute utter waste of time, not to mention the ticket price. This story of two psychologically and emotionally troubled teens, Owen (Ian Forema) and Maddy (Brigitte Lundy-Paine), who bond over a cheesy late night 1990s young adult sci-fi/horror television series called The Pink Opaque struggles mightily to find its way. As Owen grows into an adult (Justice Smith), his cohort vanishes mysteriously when the TV series is abruptly cancelled, leaving him wondering what happened to her until she just as mysteriously reappears years later with a disjointed story that makes no sense from top to bottom. As the film's narrator, Owen tries earnestly to explain, but his recounting of this experience is equally baffling, especially when he tells why Maddy has come back after her protracted absence. The result is an unintelligible tale that's far from frightening (even metaphorically speaking) and ends up being a convoluted mix of 1990s teen angst, extended and inexplicably incorporated music videos, an exploration of sexual ambiguity, and a woefully wayward attempt at symbolically addressing issues related to personal disassociation and self-actualization. There are also numerous story elements and images that are included in the narrative that go undeveloped and unexplored. To its credit, the picture features a fine production design, intriguing cinematography, a good measure of campy comic relief (though not nearly enough of it) and a skillfully assembled soundtrack (handily this release's best attribute). However, when a film's musical guests receive greater billing than its cast members and the soundtrack ends up being its strongest asset, that doesn't speak well about the production's overall quality. To be honest, I get genuinely annoyed (and feel egregiously ripped off) when I leave the theater having screened a picture whose trailer and marketing seem to offer so much promise and end up failing miserably when it comes to delivering the goods, and that's very much the case with this pretentious, sophomoric cinematic train wreck. Don't waste your time or money on this one.
How to Have Sex (2023)
A Serious Message with Trite Delivery
It's truly disappointing when a film tackles a serious subject but mishandles the execution of the story associated with it. Such is the case with writer-director Molly Manning Walker's debut feature about the troubling ramifications associated with decisions about adolescent sex. When a trio of British teens (Mia McKenna-Bruce, Lara Peake, Enva Lewis) embarks on a spring break-style vacation to the resort town of Malia on the island of Crete, they anticipate a raucous, fun-filled time of drinking, dancing and sexual hedonism. The last of those goals is especially important to Tara (McKenna-Bruce), the lone virgin in the group, who's anxious to cross the threshold of becoming a woman. But, as she pursues the fulfillment of that objective, she finds the decision fraught with more complications than she anticipated, some of which weigh heavily upon her as she seeks to sort them out. That's understandable, too, given the profound nature of this rite of passage. Unfortunately, that conundrum is couched in a narrative that's fundamentally implausible. For starters, what parent in their right mind would give their minor child permission to go on such an unchaperoned journey as this, one that's easily bound to be looked on as an exercise in reckless abandon? And then there's the plot, which is riddled with clichés and predictability, telling a story that's more than a little familiar. In fleshing out this trite narrative, the picture is filled with endless footage of screaming, unbalanced partygoers imbibing to excess, singing karaoke off-key and falling over when the night's over. It's also difficult to understand much of what the characters say, given their unruly drunken behavior and thick cockney accents, making them look and sound like a mob of rowdy, inarticulate soccer hooligans. Despite the gravity of the topic involved here, it's hard to take this release seriously - and to maintain interest in the story and its characters - as the film unfolds. It's even more puzzling how this important but shopworn material managed to captivate so many during the 2023 awards season with the honors and nominations it received at the Cannes Film Festival and in the BAFTA Awards competition. Had this offering been a little less obvious, it may have made its point more effectively, but there's little here that we haven't already seen many times before, weakening the significant message it's seeking to convey.
The Miracle Club (2023)
Delightful and Insightful, If a Bit Schmaltzy at Times
When circumstances in our lives grow burdensome, many of us hope for a miracle. In some cases, that aspiration is looked upon and anticipated as a literal possibility, one that can be banked on if certain steps are taken. For many of the world's Roman Catholics, that means making a pilgrimage to the holy shrine at Lourdes, France, site of a believed visitation by the Virgin Mary in 1858. And, in 1967, for the anguished residents of a small Irish town, that's just what they undertake in hopes of seeing their problems miraculously vanish. That premise provides the basis for director Thaddeus O'Sullivan's latest feature offering, which tells the story of three generations of women who make the journey to see their trials and tribulations lifted, some of which are physical, others of which are emotional and nearly all of which are familial or relationship-oriented. This delightful and touching comedy-drama is part road trip tale, part "buddy" film (even if that term doesn't always fit), and part saga of reconciliation, redemption and rebirth. It poignantly explores the process of making our own miracles rather than relying on outside influences, as well as learning and understanding the true meaning of faith and forgiveness. Admittedly, the film takes its time getting started (and perhaps a tad too long at that), and some of its story threads come across as somewhat schmaltzy, predictable and overly "tidy." However, it has a definite edge to it, too, especially in its incisively biting humor, pointedly and expertly delivered through the superb performances of its principal cast members, most notably Maggie Smith, Kathy Bates, Laura Linney and Stephen Rea. Some may look upon "The Miracle Club" as something of a lightweight offering, but its heart and intents are decidedly in the right place, making for a generally enjoyable watch, particularly as a piece of family fare. Cynics may find much to criticize here, but I believe that's patently unfair, considering the sincerity of its messages and earnestness of their delivery. So, in light of that, give this one a fair shake - you just mind find a few miracles of your own come from it.