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Now Playing in Memphis: Gran Turismo, Jurassic Park, and Indie Rock

 

Jann Mardenborough loved the auto racing simulation Gran Turismo, and was picked to compete on GT Academy, a British reality show where video game players competed to get a shot at driving in a real Formula One race. He went on to a successful career driving for Nissan. In Gran Turismo, his story has been dramatized by District 9 director Neill Blomkamp, starring Midsommar’s Archie Madekwe as Mardenborough and Stranger Things‘ David Harbour as his trainer. Expect inspirational speeches about cars that go vroom.

Blue Beetle, the latest superhero story from DC, stars Xolo Maridueña as Jaime Reyes, a Hispanic college student who is unexpectedly gifted with superpowers by an alien robot scarab. As he tries to come to terms with his new identity and new responsibilities, he has help from his large extended family, including comedian George Lopez as his uncle. 

While Barbie and Oppenheimer dominated the headlines this summer, Talk To Me, the debut horror film from Aussie YouTubers Danny and Michael Philippou has become a sleeper hit. 17-year-old Mia (Sophie Wilde) tries to use a mummified severed hand to contact the spirit of her dead brother, and gets a lot more than she bargained for. 

In Golda, Helen Mirren stars as Golda Meir, the prime minister who led Israel to victory during the 1973 Yom Kippur War.  

Speaking of biopics, here’s one about baseballer Ricky Hill, who overcame a physical handicap to … play baseball.

What would late summer be without Liam Neeson receiving a mysterious phone call which thrusts him, an everyman, into an unfamiliar world of violence and danger? Just so happens, he possesses certain skills. This time, they got a little Speed in the mix to liven things up a little.

Remember when Jurassic Park movies were good? If so or if not, the still unconquered original Jurassic Park is getting a 30th anniversary run in theaters starting Friday.

Thursday, August 31, the Crosstown Arts Film Series presents The Elephant 6 Recording Co. The music documentary traces the Ruston, Louisiana collective which produced indie wonders like Neutral Milk Hotel, The Olivia Tremor Control, and Of Montreal.

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Barbie

When it was announced that a Barbie movie was in the works, it’s safe to say that one of the questions that crossed everyone’s mind was “Why?”

Barbie’s dream universe has covered everything from nutcrackers to mermaid lore, and it seemed like Barbara Millicent Roberts was past her prime. The Y2K aesthetic only made room for Bratz dolls, and the meme-ification of American Girl dolls transformed them from status symbols to internet mainstays. Meanwhile, the opinion of feminist scholars who had long criticized Barbie for the outrageous beauty standards she perpetuated had gone mainstream. Girls still love their dolls, but Barbie’s star has burned out.

My interest was piqued when I heard Greta Gerwig would be tasked with telling Barbie’s story. The plot has been kept tightly under wraps, with rumors ranging from a Wizard of Oz-esque storyline to something like The Truman Show. Those rumors were not entirely wrong, but Barbie exists as its own film.

From the beginning, it’s evident that the film is a meta-narrative, which adds to the satirical charm. Helen Mirren narrates Barbie’s zeitgeist origin story in a 2001 Space Odyssey-themed sequence, in which she explains that the Barbie doll was created for girls to aspire to something other than motherhood. Barbie is aware of her existence in the world, and aware of the impact that she has had on society as a trailblazing role model for career-minded women. As Mirren notes in her narration, Barbie has solved all the problems of feminism and equality – or at least, that’s the lore in Barbieland.

Margot Robbie stars as the Stereotypical Barbie. She lives in Barbieland with an endless array of Barbie variants, such as Doctor Barbie (Hari Nef), Writer Barbie (Alexandra Shipp) and President Barbie (Issa Rae), who preside over this matriarchal democracy.

Many Barbies live in Barbieland. But only Margot Robbie’s Stereotypical Barbie has flat feet.

Then we meet the Kens, who are just as varied as the Barbies, only less cool. Ryan Gosling’s iteration of Barbie’s companion lists “beach” as his profession. But it’s not easy being a Ken. Mirren explains that while Barbie has a great day every day, Ken has a great day only if Barbie looks at him.

Barbie’s perpetual string of great days takes a turn for the worse when she brings one of her nightly blowout parties/soundstage musical numbers to a record-scratch halt when she blurts out, “Do you ever think about dying?” The next morning, she wakes up with bad breath, falls out of her dream house, and discovers that her feet have gone flat. Realizing that something is wrong, she pays a visit to Weird Barbie (Kate McKinnon), who explains that the only way for Barbie to restore her perfect tiptoe and avoid cellulite is to trade in her heels for Birkenstocks and take a trip to the real world. Since Ken only exists as an ornamental addition to Barbie’s iconography, he joins her on the journey to reality, where they make discoveries that pose an existential threat to Barbieland’s women-run utopia.

Good morning, Barbieland!

The idea of a doll visiting the real world and learning to adjust to a life that’s not so fantastic was always in the cards for Barbie – the 2000 movie Life Size starring Tyra Banks walked so Robbie could run with Barbie. As she is catcalled by construction workers in Venice Beach, Barbie realizes misogyny did not end with Supreme Court Barbie. She suffers an existential crisis when she realizes that her very brand is determined by an all-male team led by Mr. Mattel (Will Ferrell.)  

Gerwig uses Barbie to explore the nuances of feminism, but the film never feels too heavy or takes itself too seriously. It helps that Mattel isn’t afraid to laugh at itself, like the recurring joke where Midge (Emerald Fennell), a pregnant version of Barbie that was deeply unpopular with kids, is banished to Skipper’s Treehouse. Gerwig’s attention to detail and dedication to the source material not only satiates a longing for nostalgia, but also showcases her intentionality. Since no child ever made a doll take the stairs in her Dream House, these Barbies float through the air from bedroom to dream car. Gerwig makes that floaty feeling last.

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Now Playing in Memphis: Shazam to Sansón

Whether you wear the cape or you’re sick of watching people in super suits, there’s something for you in theaters this weekend.

When young Billy Batson (Asher Angel) says the magic words, he becomes Shazam (Zachary Levi), one of the OG superheroes who, many lawsuits ago, used to be called Captain Marvel. Now, he’s the star of the DC property that is the most fun, and we’ve got Memphis screenwriter Henry Gayden to thank for that. In Shazam! Fury of the Gods, Batson and his super-team take on the Daughters of Atlas, a sinister girl-god gang with Helen Mirren and Lucy Liu. 

Wes Craven’s meta-horror Scream just won’t die — the sixth installment made more money on opening weekend than any of the previous five, which means we’ll be screaming for the indefinite future. They can thank spooky teen sensation Jenna Ortega for that one. 

Willem Dafoe is an art thief who gets in way over his head when he accidentally locks himself Inside a high-security New York penthouse. As he tries to get out with the art intact, things go from weird to bad to extremely weird.

Jonathan Majors hits hard as Adonis Creed’s rival in Michael B. Jordan’s directorial debut, Creed III. The actor/director steps into Stallone’s boots to create a minor classic of the sports movie genre. Watch for the anime-inspired climax! 

On Wednesday, March 22nd, Indie Memphis presents Sansón and Me. When filmmaker Rodrigo Reyes was working as a courtroom interpreter in California, he witnessed a trial where a young man named Sansón was sentenced to life in prison. Over the next decade, he corresponded with Sansón in prison and created a hybrid documentary film based on his life. The screening at 7 p.m. at Malco’s Studio on the Square is presented in partnership with Just City Memphis.

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Eye In The Sky

It took me a good five hours, a long bath, part of a novel, and a cute animal YouTube marathon to relax after seeing Eye in the Sky, the new movie about drone warfare. It is not a pleasant movie to watch — which is fine; a pleasant movie about drone strikes would be weird. But if a movie is going to deal in violence, you at least hope that there is a point. We should learn something. With Eye in the Sky, I’m not sold.

In a 2013 article for The Atlantic called “Killing Machines,” journalist Mark Bowden writes, “Drone strikes are a far cry from the atomic vaporizing of whole cities, but the horror of war doesn’t seem to diminish when it is reduced in scale. If anything, the act of willfully pinpointing a human being and summarily executing him from afar distills war to a single ghastly act.”

In theory, Eye in the Sky is a 102-minute exploration of the “single ghastly act” of a drone strike. Set between a British cabinet room, an arms sales conference in China, air force bases in Nevada and Hawaii, and a militarized Somali neighborhood in Kenya, the movie attempts to split the difference between the scale of drone warfare and the hyperlocality of the actual violence. We are asked to weigh the cost of one civilian girl’s life — the “65 percent chance of collateral damage” — against the military imperative to kill the terrorists. There is little movement throughout the film; instead, we get a thriller-esque focus on a few locations and characters. True to life, we often see what is happening through the lens of the drone.

Aaron Paul

Helen Mirren stars as Col. Katherine Powell, a British officer in charge of the time-sensitive operation to capture the terrorists. Either Mirren underplays the role, or the role is underwritten. Either way, the star power in the film is carried not by Mirren but by the late, great Alan Rickman, who stars opposite Mirren as Lt. General Frank Benson, the commanding officer in charge of clearing military decisions with the legal and political powers.

Rickman is great as Benson, even if you get the feeling that he can play the asshole-military-guy-who-is-not-really-an-asshole in his sleep. Both the film’s emotional depth and the rare moments of lightness are given to his character: At the start, we see Benson buying a doll for his daughter on the way into work. He realizes it is the wrong model of doll and asks a military assistant to replace it before he enters into the war room. At the close of the movie, [SPOILER AHEAD] just after we learn that Benson’s operation has killed the young Somali girl, the military assistant thrusts the correct model of the doll into Benson’s hands. Benson looks confused, then slightly horrified, then resigned. “Thank you,” he says.

Contained within a single, 12-hour military shift, Eye in the Sky follows the escalation of a planned “capture operation” in Kenya to a full-scale “elimination operation” when Col. Powell realizes that the subjects of the capture have on suicide vests. Military communication pings between two soldiers in Las Vegas, British and American politicians, and on-the-ground Kenyan spies. Meanwhile, we watch as young Somali girl, Alia, goes about her daily business: playing, reading, selling bread. We learn that her family are not militant. When Alia sets up shop next door to the military target, we get our ethical problem, contained within a single aerial shot.

From the get-go, it is easy enough to predict that the little girl is not going to get out alive. Alia and her family are tragic, sympathetic characters. But they, like everything else in Eye in the Sky, come off as canned. And that predictability, passable in rom-coms and sci-fi flicks, is a serious offense when you are trying to represent the very real lives caught up in hi-tech wars.

Eye in the Sky, in its attempts to frame everyone as just the right kind of ethical actor in a crazy world, is like The West Wing with more drones and fewer witticisms about the SATs. It plays on the most obvious of our sympathies (little girls are good; terrorists are bad; soldiers are just doing their jobs) and in so doing, 1) dismisses the more interesting underlying hows and whys of drone warfare, and 2) substitutes uninteresting fiction for facts. If you want facts, read journalism. Watch a documentary. Don’t listen to a character named General Frank Benson when he puffs up his chest and tells a crying female politician to “never tell a soldier he doesn’t know the true cost of war.” If that kind of sentimentality is your preferred mode of truth, let me instead direct you to some palatable Tim McGraw songs.

A more interesting film about the disconnected warfare might also include meta scenes in which, for 11 dollars a pop, an American moviegoing audience watches a fictional film about drone violence. It’s hard to feel, watching Eye in the Sky, like you are not somehow participating in the riddles of violence and scale that the movie attempts, but does not succeed, in answering.

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Trumbo

As a writer, I’m always suspicious of movies about writers. The protagonist is always hailed as being exceptionally talented but probably troubled. But when our hero is called upon to read his writing that everyone in the film says is so great, it turns out to not be very impressive, because the film’s writer is not as much of a genius as his character is supposed to be. And let’s face it: The life of the writer is not very interesting. It mainly consists of sitting still in front of a laptop and fretting.

But Dalton Trumbo was interesting. He didn’t just sit still in front of a typewriter — he sat in a tub surrounded by booze, ashtrays, and a typewriter. Trumbo won the National Book Award in 1939, got nominated for a screenwriting Academy Award in 1940, joined the Army after Pearl Harbor, and, after the war, became the highest paid writer in Hollywood. He was also, for five years, a member of the Communist Party of the United States, which would come to cost him dearly when the House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC) called him to testify in 1948. Trumbo considered himself a patriot, and thought that HUAC had no legal or ethical right to persecute an American citizen for his political beliefs, so he and his compatriots refused to answer the committee’s questions and were convicted of contempt of Congress. Trumbo became known as the leader of the “Hollywood 10” who were blacklisted and no longer allowed to work with the major Hollywood studios.

Helen Mirren and Brian Cranston in Trumbo

Bryan Cranston plays Dalton Trumbo in Jay Roach’s adaptation of the writer’s life, and as you would probably expect, he does a tremendous job. Cranston’s work as Walter White on Breaking Bad has cemented him as one of the best actors working today, and he fully inhabits the role of the too-smart-for-his-own-good leftist with a big mouth and a precision-guided pen. Trumbo wrote scripts the old-fashioned way, buoyed by a heroic intake of scotch, nicotine, and amphetamines, and there is rarely a shot in Trumbo where Cranston is without a lit cigarette curling smoke from a long filter. There’s so much smoking going on that when Trumbo’s fellow traveller Arlen Hird (Louis C.K.) tells Trumbo he has lung cancer, it’s completely unsurprising. There are a lot of acting heavy hitters in Trumbo, but the scenes between Cranston and C.K. are by far the sharpest. Hird sees through Trumbo’s prodigious bullshit, but he plays along because he both agrees with and respects the older man. Cranston also gets to match wits with Helen Mirren as Hedda Hopper, the arch anti-communist gossip columnist whose column in the Hollywood Reporter reinforced the blacklist. Diane Lane plays Trumbo’s wife Cleo, and Elle Fanning his daughter Niki, both of whom feel the negative effects of Trumbo’s crusade. Other welcome actors include the underutilized Alan Tudyk as Ian McLellan Hunter, Trumbo’s friend who served as a front writer for the Academy Award-winning screenplay for Roman Holiday; John Goodman as hack studio head Frank King; and Dean O’Gorman, last seen as the dwarf Fili in The Hobbit trilogy, does an absolutely uncanny impression of Kirk Douglas

The actors are having such a good time that Trumbo‘s weaknesses in the story department are mostly papered over. Cranston’s huge, humane portrayal is great fun to watch, but he may come on too strong for the overall good of the picture. His confidence never wavers, even when he’s being strip-searched in prison, which means his character never changes. This is a common malady of biopics and historical dramas shared by, among others, Selma. Like Ava DuVernay in that film and F. Gary Gray in Straight Outta Compton, director Jay Roach plays it pretty safe, style-wise, choosing to focus on the characterization. Writer John McNamara’s dialogue gives the actors plenty of material to work with, but he lacks his subject’s talent for structural clarity. It would probably please Trumbo to hear a critic say Trumbo would have been better had Trumbo written it himself.

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Hitchcock

I don’t care about the subject matter; I don’t care about the acting; but I do care about the pieces of film and the photography and the soundtrack and all of the technical ingredients that make the audience scream. I feel it’s tremendously satisfying for us to be able to use the cinematic art to achieve something of a mass emotion. And with Psycho we most definitely achieved this. It wasn’t a message that stirred the audiences, nor was it a great performance or their enjoyment of the novel. They were aroused by pure film.” — Alfred Hitchcock, interviewed by filmmaker François Truffaut

Hitchcock is not a straight biopic about classic Hollywood’s most famous filmmaker but rather a portrait of the “Master of Suspense” at work in the period between the launch of his great triumph, 1959’s North By Northwest, and the even greater success of his subsequent big gamble, 1960’s Psycho.

In capturing this time in the director’s life, Hitchcock weighs three related but distinct topics: It’s a marriage story, looking into the personal and professional relationship between Alfred Hitchcock (Anthony Hopkins) and his wife and underrecognized creative colleague, Alma Reville (Helen Mirren). It’s also a backstage procedural about how Hitchcock, along with agent Lew Wasserman (Michael Stuhlbarg) and assistant Peggy Robertson (Toni Collete), got Psycho — a nasty piece of work that made for an unlikely and groundbreaking project for an A-list Hollywood director of the day — made despite resistance from Paramount and industry censors. But it’s also at times — at its infrequent best — about “the pieces of film and the photography and the soundtrack and all of the technical ingredients that make the audience scream.”

Hopkins, abetted by heavy makeup and a fat suit, plays Hitchcock as the droll, morbid caricature from his film trailers and television appearances. He doesn’t seem like Hitchcock, but at least he doesn’t seem like Anthony Hopkins either. Mirren gives a better and deeper performance even as the plot lines centered on her threaten to sink the film. A secret writing partnership between Alma and Strangers on a Train scribe Whitfield Cook (Danny Huston) is suspected to be something more intimate by Hitchcock, and the soapier aspects of this tangent feel like a sop to the middle-aged demographic, tapping into which is probably the film’s only hope of becoming a hit. Mirren, at least, brings this detour home by nailing her Big Speech.

On the studio lot, there’s plenty of material of more interest to film buffs, from stray asides — Hitchcock turning down an offer to make the first James Bond — to re-creations of Psycho‘s three great set pieces: the opening afternoon tryst, the staircase killing, and, of course, the shower scene. But much of this material is more dutiful than inspired. (And that goes double for Scarlett Johansson’s nonperformance as shower-scene victim Janet Leigh.)

Attempts at plumbing Hitchcock’s psyche in these scenes pales next to what the man himself does in his own films. And, on a related note, the use of real-life Psycho inspiration Ed Gein in a series of fantasy sequences is a stillborn gambit.

Hitchcock only truly finds a groove in its final stretch, when Alma tells Alfred at the breakfast table, “I suggest for everyone’s sake we start whipping Psycho into shape,” and we’re suddenly in the editing room with those “pieces of film,” snipping strips of celluloid, looking at individual frames, and cutting together a shower scene that, as Hitchcock told Truffaut, took seven days and 70 camera set-ups to produce 45 seconds of footage. Next, Hitchcock is negotiating with composer Bernard Herrmann about the film’s iconic, piercing score; devising an ingenious marketing scheme; and, in the film’s best and no doubt fanciful moment, standing in the theater lobby on opening night, stabbing along with Mrs. Bates to a helpless, orchestrated audience response, literalizing the notion of movie murder weapon as conductor’s wand.

This little grace-note tribute to “pure film” is true to Hitchcock but mostly out of step with Hitchcock, which, unlike its subject, must rely on performance and audience familiarity with its source material to generate interest.

Hitchcock

Opening Friday, December 14th

Ridgeway Four