Wish: Wish it were better

Wish (2023) • View trailer

Two stars (out of five). Rated PG, for no particular reason

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 11.24.23

Sigh.

 

What a mess.

 

The proverbial roomful of chimpanzees, banging away at typewriters, could have written a better script. 

 

Asha initially is enchanted when Magnifico shows her one of the thousands of "wish
spheres" he protects in his castle study ... but she quickly realizes that his outward
benevolence conceals something much darker.

The Disney Animation folks desperately need to pay closer attention to how their Pixar colleagues develop a storyline. And the six (!) writers credited here need to be reminded of the most crucial axiom, when it comes to fantasy: It’s even more important, than with real-world dramas, to establish a logical set of rules and stick to them.

Co-directors Chris Buck and Fawn Veerasunthorn’s bewildering train wreck is a blatant example of “art” submerged beneath crass commercialism: dictated solely by the need to reinforce the Disney brand and traditions ... and it certainly ticks all the boxes.

 

• Plucky young heroine? Check. (Another outfit to be worn by young Disney Princess fans).

 

• A tragically absent parent? Check. (Goes all the way back to Bambi, donchaknow.)

 

• An insufferably cute animal sidekick? Check. (The plush toys will fly off store shelves.)

 

• A plethora of new songs, each one striving to become the next popular power ballad? Check. (Great for social media clicks.)

 

• Frequent “clever” references to previous Disney films? Check. (In this case, scores of such references ... clearly a case of the tail wagging the dog).

 

The only thing missing is a coherent narrative. And characters we actually care about.

 

Actually, that isn’t entirely fair. Our heroine, Asha, is captivating: intelligent, resourceful, ethical, and granted a wide range of emotions courtesy of Academy Award-winning voice actress Ariana DeBose. But one can’t help feeling sorry for Asha, stuck in this poorly constructed story. She deserves better.

The Killer: Grimly fascinating

The Killer (2023) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated R, for strong violence, profanity and fleeting sexuality

Available via: Netflix

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 11.17.23

Given that so many of director David Fincher’s films are cold, brutal and often quite disturbing — Se7en, Panic Roomand Zodiac leap to mind — he’s the obvious choice to helm an adaptation of the long-running graphic novel series by French creators Alexis Nolent and Luc Jacamon.

 

Surveillance is an exercise in extreme patience, as this career assassin (Michael
Fassbender) has learned, during a long and successful career that often involves
waiting days for the target to show up.

And, given that the primary character is a career assassin, the role similarly is a natural for Michael Fassbender, who excels at ruthless indifference. He radiates a degree of calm that is pure façade: a surface mask that conceals a cobra’s speed with a grizzly’s explosive brute force.

Scripter Andrew Kevin Walker augments the film’s already detached atmosphere by leaving all the characters nameless (except for a few clever and deliberate exceptions). They’re known solely by the “handles” employed by those who inhabit this lethal line of work: The Client, The Lawyer, The Expert, and so forth.

 

Fassbender is The Killer, whom we meet many days into his surveillance of an apartment on the other side of an active Parisian street. He’s holed up in the now-empty offices once occupied by WeWork (rather prescient on Walker’s part, given that the company filed for bankruptcy last week). He’s waiting for The Target to return home, at which point he’ll be executed by our assassin’s wicked-looking rifle.

 

The story is split into distinct acts, each taking the name of its primary focus. Thus, Act 1 — “The Killer” — profiles this man as Fassbender clinically details the rules, strengths, weaknesses, pitfalls, rash assumptions and mistakes that characterize his profession, in a grimly philosophical and nihilistic voice-over that runs nearly half an hour, while we watch him exercise, sleep, eat, yoga and remain focused on the apartment.

 

(“Trust no one.” “Forbid empathy.” “Anticipate, don’t improvise.” “Never yield an advantage.” “Fight only the battle you’re paid to fight.”)

 

Depending on a viewer’s sensibilities, this lengthy monologue will either be fascinating ... or dull and needlessly protracted. (I’m in the former camp.) Something about Fassbender’s presence and serene detachment makes it difficult to look away. Fincher and Walker also manage an undercurrent of very dark humor (which some viewers may not appreciate).

 

This mordant streak also emerges in the numerous arch songs by The Smiths that occupy The Killer’s playlist, and which Fincher alternates with the disquieting score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross.

 

The Target eventually arrives (at long last, some will think, with relief) and The Killer goes to work. Maddeningly, the man keeps pausing behind the small chunk of wall that separates two large windows. Then the moment comes, and...

 

...it goes wrong.

 

“This is new,” The Killer thinks aloud, with a soupçon of genuine surprise.

The Marvels: Far from marvelous

The Marvels (2023) • View trailer

Two stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, for relentless action violence and fleeting profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 11.10.23

Oy. What a train wreck.

 

This film is bad in the worst possible way: It’s embarrassing.

 

An embarrassing waste of its cast, and a new low for the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

 

Our heroes — from left, Ms. Marvel (Iman Vellani), Captain Marvel (Brie Larson) and
Monica Rambeau (Teyonah Parris) — watch with horror, as this story's Big Bad
embarks on planet-killing activity.

I cannot imagine what prompted Those In Charge to believe that director/co-writer Nia DaCosta — with only two small features behind her, most recently 2021’s dreadful remake of Candyman — had the chops for a project this ambitious.

Clearly, she doesn’t.

 

The so-called script she cobbled together with Megan McDonnell and Elissa Karasik is a mess: unstructured, uneven, random, laced with glaring hanging chads, and sporting a deus ex machina finale that I defy anybody to explain.

 

Which is a genuine shame, and a lost opportunity. Iman Vellani’s bubbly Kamala Khan was a delightful presence in 2022’s Ms. Marvel limited series, and Brie Larson’s Captain Marvel has been a high point in the MCU since her debut in 2019’s Captain Marvel.

 

Teyonah Parris’ Monica Rambeau debuted as a little girl (Akira Akbar), niece of Carol Danvers (aka Captain Marvel), in the 2019 film; Monica reappeared as an adult in 2021’s WandaVision miniseries, during which she gained the powers she’s still learning to control, in this new film.

 

DaCosta & Co.’s core plot builds on events from Captain Marvel’s 2019 debut, when she rejected her role as a ruthless member of the tyrannical Kree empire, and — wanting to ensure that the Kree never would threaten another world — later destroyed their home planet Hala’s Supreme Intelligence (AI writ very bad).

 

Alas, that supposedly righteous deed had dire consequences. Hala lost its oceans and breathable atmosphere, and its sun died, leaving the planet in perpetual darkness.

 

(Why taking out a super-computer would cause such celestial havoc is left unaddressed: merely the first of this script’s woefully under-explained details.)

 

This Kree therefore vowed revenge on Captain Marvel, whom they dubbed “The Annihilator”; their increasingly dire plight also exacerbated a long-festering war with the shape-shifting Skrulls, whom she helped find a new home world.

 

The story begins as Kree ruler Dar-Benn (Zawe Ashton) — known as the Supremor, wielder of a nasty-looking war hammer — finds a long-sought cosmic bracelet that further enhances her powers. A quick cut to Kamala — at home with parents Muneeba (Zenobia Shroff) and Yusuf (Mohan Kapur), and older brother Aamir (Saagar Shaikh) — reminds us that this is the twin of the bracelet that gave her powers as Ms. Marvel.

The Persian Version: Such a joy!

The Persian Version (2023) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated R, for profanity and sexual candor

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 11.3.23

Mothers and daughters, families and secrets.

 

The seemingly impossible divide between cultural tradition and liberated self-expression.

 

To her considerable surprise, Leila (Layla Mohammadi, left) discovers that her
(apparently) uptight mother, Shireen (Niousha Noor) is quite capable of busting a move
during a celebratory dance.

Writer/director Maryam Keshavarz’s sparkling dramedy covers all of that territory, and does so with wit, humor, poignance and the occasional — never unwelcome — buoyant dance number. The degree to which this mélange so intimately feels like somebody’s actual life is no accident; Keshavarz personally experienced most of what we see on the screen.

Storytellers are best when they write what they know, and the result here is a crowd-pleaser with several underlying morals that are even more relevant in today’s hyper-partisan society. No surprise, Keshavarz won the Waldo Salt Screenwriting Award, and her film took the Audience Award, at this year’s Sundance Film Festival. 

 

At first blush, the story seems to focus on rebellious, late-twenty-something Iranian-American Leila (Layla Mohammadi), introduced rushing through New York’s streets wearing a burka-tini — which must be seen to be believed — en route to a rowdy Halloween party. She concludes the evening by impulsively throwing herself into a one-nighter with Maximillian (Tom Byrne), garbed as the cross-dressing  Hedwig, from the 1998’s gender-queer stage musical (and later film), “Hedwig and the Angry Inch.”

 

We learn that this impulsive act is in response to a catastrophic break-up with her wife, Elena (Mia Foo), who apparently bailed because Leila is, well, difficult to be around. All of this is thrown at us in an explosive burst of exposition, some of it explained to us viewers directly, when Leila breaks the fourth wall and chats as though we’re in the same room.

 

That gimmick is disorienting the first time, but it totally works, particularly when — upon meeting her large and boisterous clan — we begin to understand why Leila has embarked on a personal campaign to become the official family screw-up.

 

And, no question, she’s a mess. But Mohammadi plays the role with such conviction, sincerity and breathtaking candor, that we can’t help adoring her. Leila unashamedly makes and owns every embarrassing personal mistake possible, and honestly believes that she’s doing a good job at living beyond the reach of her family.

 

Until her father, Ali (Bijan Daneshmand), suddenly needs a heart transplant.

The Holdovers: Acting, 10; story, 3

The Holdovers (2023) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated R, for profanity, drug use and sexual candor

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

The last time writer/director Alexander Payne and actor Paul Giamatti worked together, in 2004’s Sideways, the result was five Oscar nominations — including Best Picture — and a win for the film’s captivating script.

 

That won’t happen this time.

 

Angus (Dominic Sessa, left) and Professor Hunham (Paul Giamatti) are surprised to
discover that the school head cook, Mary (Da'Vine Joy Randolph) has prepared a
full-blown Christmas dinner.

Even so, there’s much to admire in this new film, which is based loosely on a 1935 French comedy called Merlusse. The always watchable Giamatti is well supported by co-stars Da’Vine Joy Randolph and Dominic Sessa, the latter a newcomer making an impressive acting debut. The chilly New England setting, time-capsuled in the early winter of 1970, is granted impeccable authenticity by cinematographer Eigil Bryld and production designer Ryan Warren Smith; it genuinely feels like we’ve stepped back half a century.

Indeed, the film even feels like a product of the early 1970s, in terms of tone and appearance.

 

The weak link is David Hemingson’s script.

 

Payne usually writes or co-writes his films, with memorable results that have included — in addition to Sideways — 2002’s About Schmidt and 2011’s The Descendants.

 

He should have done so this time.

 

The premise here, lifted mostly intact from Merlusse, is fine; the execution (alas!) is contrived, clumsy, lethargic and ultimately dull. The result does not deserve its protracted 133-minute length.

 

The setting is Barton Academy, a venerable boarding prep school that reeks of wealth and boorish entitlement. Giamatti stars as Paul Hunham, a veteran adjunct professor of ancient history. To call him misanthropic is the worst of understatements; Hunham regards his students with undisguised contempt. He isn’t merely stern; he’s downright nasty, routinely belittling his charges as philistines, reprobates, snarling Visigoths and (my favorite) “fetid layabouts” unfit to uphold Barton’s longstanding dedication to tradition and academic rigor.

 

That such descriptions are entirely accurate, with respect to many of the privileged little snots, is entirely beside the point. Hunham’s unceasing torrent of verbal abuse — delivered by Giamatti, it must be admitted, with considerable flourish — is an immediately insurmountable barrier that makes it impossible to sympathize with the man, as the story proceeds.

 

More to the point, although Hunham knows his field inside and out — and loves to hold forth with needlessly highbrow language — he apparently can’t communicate it. If everybody save one member of his class receives a grade of D or F on the semester final exam, then clearly Hunham is a terrible teacher. Bearing that in mind — as an adjunct professor lacking tenure, who can be fired at will — enraged wealthy parents would have demanded his departure long ago.

 

And they’d certainly have gained the support of Barton’s snootily officious headmaster (Andrew Garman, appropriately smarmy), who loathes Hunham.