Wicked, Part One: Too much of a good thing

Wicked: Part One (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG, and rather generously, for scary action and dramatic intensity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

At the risk of being the Grinch at the party — and earning the wrath of the 2003 Broadway musical’s devoted Wickedites (Ozians?) — this film is much too long.

 

Shiz University students Elphaba (Cynthia Erivo, left) and Galinda (Ariana Grande)
loathe each other on first sight ... so, naturally, they're forced to room together.

I say this despite its best moments, when this film (literally) soars with exhilarating magic, most notably during choreographer Christopher Scott’s exhilarating production numbers, none better than “Dancing Through Life,” set in a multi-level school library with huge, rotating stacks of shelves. Director John M. Chu is (ahem) a wiz at ensemble pieces and splashy, opulent crowd sequences, as notably demonstrated in 2018’s Crazy Rich Asians and 2021’s In the Heights.

But this ponderous, 160-minute fantasy’s quieter, expository moments frequently sag beneath the weight of too many slow takes, a grim and insufficiently established subtext, and pauses so pregnant they could deliver.

 

Which do not, for a moment, overshadow the deeply moving, incredibly powerful and all-around superb performances by stars Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande, both spectacular in song, dance, comedy and expressive moves and dramatic chops, as (initially) rival spell-casting students Elphaba and Galinda, at the fantastical land of Oz’s Shiz University.

 

I’d love to say that the über-talented Erivo and Grande compensate for this bloated film’s shortcomings, and — in fairness — they come very close. But no; nothing can fully camouflage the sagging weight of dramatic scenes than linger far beyond their sell-by date.

 

But that’s getting ahead of things. 

 

Chu’s film is based on the Winnie Holzman/Stephen Schwartz play (book/music and lyrics), which in turn is adapted from Gregory Maguire’s cheeky revisionist 1995 novel, Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West. Holzman collaborated on this film’s screenplay, alongside Dana Fox, and viewed it — as she has been quoted — as being an opportunity to showcase all the scenes that were cut from the stage production.

 

(Note to all concerned: Sometimes stuff is trimmed for good reason.)

 

This film opens with a prologue that hearkens back to the end of 1939’s The Wizard of Oz, as Dorothy and her companions depart along the yellow brick road, having vanquished the Wicked Witch of the West. When Glinda arrives in Munchkinland to confirm the news, one resident asks about her prior relationship with the deceased: “Is it true you once were friends?”

 

That takes her aback, and prompts the memories that become the story proper.

 

(The two spellings of Galinda’s name is a plot point.)

 

Years back, Munchinland Governor Thropp (Andy Nyman) is horrified when their first baby girl, Elphaba, proves to be ... green. (There’s a reason for this, also a key plot point.) Second daughter Nessarose, born a few years later, looksacceptable but will require a wheelchair her entire life.

 

Moana 2: More fantasy ocean action

Moana 2 (2024) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated PG, for fantasy peril

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 12.1.24

Although some sequels feel like little more than cash-grabs — and Disney, of late, has been particularly guilty of this — 2016’s Moana definitely deserved a second chapter.

In an effort to help get the grumpuy Kele into the spirit of things, Moana (far left), Moni
and Loto do their best to turn his frown upside-down, during a lively song (which is
only partially successful).

The resourceful and strong-willed 16-year-old, who earned her stripes as a “Wayfinder” in her debut outing, has blossomed into a mature young woman who has embraced her role as spiritual guide of her Polynesian island community of Motunui. By seeking her calling, in the first film, she also discovered her people’s long-ago tradition as voyagers of Oceania’s vast expanse.

Moana’s bold, sea-faring nature is re-introduced here via composers Opetaia Foa’I and Mark Mancina’s up-tempo tune “We’re Back” — a lively, Broadway musical-style anthem very much in the mold of “Belle,” from 1991’s Beauty and the Beast — which also showcases this story’s new and returning key players.

 

As this second chapter begins, Moana (again voiced with robust intelligence and spirit by Auli’I Cravalho) once again is visited by the spirit of her beloved Gramma Tala (Rachel House), who warns that a long-ago curse has isolated Motunui from numerous other Polynesian communities ... and that, thus divided, all will perish.

 

The only way to break the curse is to travel distant seas to the sunken island of Motufetü, which is guarded by Nalo, the god of storms.

 

This time, Moana has the full support of her parents: Chief Tui (Temuera Morrison) and Sina (Nicole Scherzinger). Alas, 3-year-old toddler sister Simea (Khaleesi Lambert-Tsuda) is quite upset, fearful that her beloved “big sis” might never return. Simea is the spitting image of toddler Moana from the first film’s introduction, and an adorable addition to this expanding cast.

 

A journey of this magnitude will require a larger canoe, and an able crew: Loto (Rose Matafeo), a genius problem-solver and proto-engineer whose chaotic enthusiasm often overwhelms her common sense; Moni (Hualalai Chung), the community’s designated story keeper, who whips out drawings in nothing flat; and the grumpy Kele (David Fane), an elderly gardener who will tend the “canoe plants” that wayfinders need, to survive long journeys.

 

All three are well-conceived characters, granted considerable personality by the voice actors.

Gladiator II: Let the games resume!

Gladiator II (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated R, for strong, bloody violence

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

Although the lengthy gap between this film and director Ridley Scott’s predecessor seems an eyebrow lift, scripters David Scarpa and Peter Craig cleverly work that passage of time into their plot.

 

Although Lucius (Paul Mescal) isn't expected to survive his first bout in the Coliseum,
he proves unexpectedly resourceful ... much to the delight of the crowd, which has
long thirsted for a new champion.

Fifteen years have passed since Russell Crowe’s Maximus Decimus Meridius hoped, with his dying breath, that Rome would return to the honorably glory that it had enjoyed under the rule of Emperor Marcus Aurelius. 

Alas, things didn’t turn out that way; Rome has come under the rule of sadistic twin emperors Geta (Joseph Quinn) and Caracalla (Fred Hechinger). They’re reckless, with no sense of history, and believe in chaos, violence and conquest for its own sake. Their Roman Empire exists solely to expand its borders, pillaging every culture in its path, and forcing survivors to fight for their lives in the Colosseum.

 

Their realm’s citizens are in a very, very bad way. Rome has failed its people; Geta and Caracalla couldn’t care less. They’re vain, decadent, hedonistic and quite mad; Geta is a diabolical schemer, while Caracalla — never without his beloved pet monkey, Dundus — is completely unhinged.

 

Quinn and Hechinger plunge into these roles with unrestrained enthusiasm, making the twin emperors flat-out scary, unpredictable and detestable.

 

The story begins as their favorite warrior, Gen. Marcus Acacius (Pedro Pascal), leads the Roman navy across the sea to conquer the coastal realm of Numidia, where Lucius (Paul Mescal) farms with his beloved wife, Arishat (Yuval Gonen). 

 

(Viewers with good memories will recognize the name Lucius.)

 

He and Arishat join the forces protecting their walled city, in a jaw-dropping action sequence orchestrated by Scott, production designer Arthur Max, special effects supervisor Neil Corbould, visual effects supervisor Mark Bakowski, and supervising sound editors Matthew Collinge and Danny Sheehan.

 

The melee lasts almost 20 minutes, with a barrage of battle galleons, swords, bows, knives, catapults, trebuchets, flaming projectiles and what seems like thousands of warriors. It’s awesome.

 

Alas, things doesn’t go well for Lucius. He and the other male Numidian survivors are carted to a rigorous — and deadly — gladiator training camp run by the formidable Viggo (Lior Raz, who has a marvelous scowl). 

 

A Real Pain: A thoughtful, touching drama

A Real Pain (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated R, for drug use and relentless profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 11.17.24

This seems to be the season for notable entries by actors turned directors.

 

Just a few weeks ago, Anna Kendrick made an impressive directorial debut with the suspenseful Woman of the Hour, in which she also starred.

 

Tour guide James (Will Sharpe, foreground) and the rest of their small group fail to
notice when Benji (Kieran Culkin, in red shorts) impulsively embarrasses his
cousin David (Jesse Eisenberg) with a bear hug.

Jesse Eisenberg, still remembered for his Oscar-nominated performance in 2010’s The Social Network, has done her one better; he wrote, directed and co-stars in this intensely emotional relationship drama. It earned Eisenberg the Walda Salt Screenwriting Award at this year’s Sundance Film Festival, and no surprise; this painfully raw study of estrangement often is difficult to endure, because it feels so intimately real.

Equal credit, as well, for the lead performances by Eisenberg and Kieran Culkin.

 

New York-based David (Eisenberg) and his estranged cousin Benji (Culkin) reunite at an airport, en route to Warsaw for a Polish Holocaust history group tour. The trip has been made possible by money left by their recently deceased grandmother, and is prompted by their mutual desire to visit the home in which she lived, for many years.

 

Jewish history and the Holocaust are a grim backdrop to a character dynamic already heavy with unspoken angst.

 

The two men couldn’t be less alike. The workaholic David is sweet and smart, but shy, emotionally repressed and impaired by OCD tics partly dampened by prescription meds. He further holds himself together via lists, itineraries and meticulous planning.

 

This isn’t far from Eisenberg’s frequent acting wheelhouse; his flustered, overly apologetic nebbishes have long been a signature. But he’s extremely adept at it, and David’s deer-in-the-headlights reactions to his cousin’s antics are credibly painful.

 

The bipolar, relentlessly profane Benji navigates wild mood swings with marginal success. At his best, he’s cheery and personable: the life of the party. But in the blink of an eye, he turns rude, antagonistic and needlessly candid, insisting that everybody subscribe to his bent philosophy of the moment.

 

He self-medicates with marijuana and alcohol, which doesn’t help; he often doesn’t remember his previous day’s boorish behavior.

 

Culkin is all over the map; Benji’s manic intensity often lands like a punch in the gut, and his irresponsibility is infuriating. It’s hard to imagine spending even five minutes with this guy; Culkin’s performance leaps from the screen, as if daring us to remain in our seats.

Red One: Too much naughty, not enough nice

Red One (2024) • View trailer

Three stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, and rather generously, for scary violence, profanity and unnecessary earthiness

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

This movie is a mess.

 

For awhile, it’s an entertaining mess. Scripters Chris Morgan and Hiram Garcia have fun blending numerous Christmas/Santa Claus myths, and their concept of the high-tech North Pole operation is a golly-gee-willikers smile. Production designer Bill Brzeski clearly went to town, and the visual effects folks do marvelous things with elves and Santa’s awesomely huge reindeer.

 

Having successfully filled in as a mall Santa for a day, the actual Mr. Claus (J.K. Simmons,
right) is escorted back to his reindeer-drivn sleigh by security chief Callum Drift
(Dwayne Johnson).

I’m also charmed by the notion that the actual Santa Claus, code-named “Red One” (J.K. Simmons, at his fatherly best) occasionally fills in for shopping mall duties, because he enjoys “mingling with the people.” This notion cheekily adds weight to a parent’s insistence, to a doubtful child, that yes; that fellow in the chair could be the actual Santa.

I also was willing to roll with a plot line that involves Santa being kidnapped by the evil Christmas Witch, aka Gryla (Kiernan Shipka), to prevent him from making the rounds on the all-important night, while replacing his gift-giving with her own nefarious scheme.

 

But by about this point, the script’s disparate elements begin to burst at the seams.

 

Backing up a bit, the first act establishes the longstanding bond between Santa and his head of security: Callum Drift (Dwayne Johnson), commander of the North Pole’s E.L.F. team (Enforcement, Logistics and Fortification). After centuries of faithful service, Callum has grown disenchanted with humanity’s rising willingness to behave badly — without concern — thus winding up on the Naughty List.

 

Santa, being Santa, has faith.

 

“Every decision,” he insists, in Simmons’ best, wise-guidance tone, “is an opportunity to do the right thing.”

 

Elsewhere, chronic gambler and expert “fixer” Jack O’Malley (Chris Evans) has helped an unknown party track an unusual seismic disturbance ... not realizing that it’s Santa’s reindeer taking off, after his shopping mall gig. Said unknown party turns out to be Gryla; Jack has unwittingly given her the means to find the concealed North Pole, and orchestrate the aforementioned kidnapping.

 

This absolutely horrifies Zoe (Lucy Liu), head of the Mythological Oversight and Restoration Authority (M.O.R.A.), an umbrella organization charged with protecting and defending the mythological world, from Bigfoot to the Easter Bunny. Santa’s absence, with only one day before Christmas, is a crisis of the highest magnitude.

 

Callum and his team quickly locate and enlist Jack, to help them recover Santa: a mission initially pooh-poohed by the skeptical mortal. (We briefly see his kid version in this film’s prologue, played by Wyatt Hunt, as a precocious disbeliever in Santa.) A brief encounter with Cal’s second-in-command, Garcia — a massive talking polar bear — soon sets that straight.

 

Freedom: A captivating romp

Freedom (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Not rated, but akin to R for violence, nudity, sensuality and profanity

Available via: Amazon Prime

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 11.10.24

Director Mélanie Laurent’s new film is a cheeky, rollicking crime saga based on actual events that seem impossible to believe.

 

Bruno Sulak (Lucas Bravo) and lover Annie (Léa Luce Busato) make a formidable
team, but they soon realize that their luck can't hold out forever.

From the summer of 1978 through the early 1980s, France was captivated by the audacious exploits of “gentleman thief” Bruno Sulak, a former paratrooper with the Foreign Legion, who began his criminal career with a series of daytime supermarket robberies.

He was young and cordial, politely asking each check-out clerk to empty her till, while his partner similarly prompted the manager to empty the safe in the upstairs office. Both Sulak and his colleague brandished guns to show they were serious, but never fired them, or roughed up the citizenry; Sulak made a point of non-violence.

 

Coupled with a “shake up the establishment” air of defiance, Sulak quickly developed a reputation as a “Robin Hood of crime,” and was dubbed a real-life Arsène Lupin.

 

A civil understanding apparently existed between the French gendarmes and such low-level criminals, from the late 1960s to the early ’80s; grudging respect existed on both sides, as long as unspoken boundaries remained in place. This attitude was fueled, in part, by disenchantment with the government, and — during those latter years — public pushback against the pro-capitalist policies of newly elected President François Mitterrand.

 

Indeed, Sulak’s initial robberies were cheered by citizens concerned that the explosive growth of supermarkets would drive beloved family shops out of business.

 

Although Laurent and co-scripter Christophe Deslandes acknowledge being inspired by French author Philippe Jaenada’s 2013 book, Sulak, they’ve taken occasional liberties. Bruno’s “outlaw love” Thalie has been reshaped into Annie Bragnier (Léa Luce Busato, in a stylish big-screen debut), who takes a more active role as getaway driver.

 

But the overall arc of Bruno’s crime career is accurate, and the sensuous interludes with Annie enhance what quickly becomes an energetically frothy romp. There’s also a strong echo of 2002’s Catch Me If You Can, due to Sulak’s cat-and-mouse antics with dogged police inspector George Moréas (Yvan Attal).

Music by John Williams: Rhapsodic

Music by John Williams (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG for brief violent film clips

Available via: Disney+

By Derrick Bang

Full bias disclosure:

 

I’ve been a soundtrack nerd since junior high school, when I fell in love with John Barry’s jazz-oriented scores to the early James Bond films.

 

Since meeting in 1972, John Williams, left, and Steven Spielberg have collaborated on
29 feature films ... so far.

And let’s just say that didn’t sit well with my late 1960s, rock-oriented peers, when they caught me listening to soundtrack albums in our local public library. The scornful snickers always made me wince ... but did nothing to diminish my passion.

No surprise, then, that this new documentary was greeted with considerable anticipation.

 

It definitely delivers.

 

My soundtrack library expanded to include John Williams in the wake of 1975’s Jaws. Two years later, his score for Star Wars was a game-changer; it revived enthusiasm for classically hued orchestral soundtracks at a time when many films relied on “jukebox scores” of then-current pop tunes (a transitional detail covered in this documentary).

 

I mean, let’s get serious; who wasn’t blown away by that dynamic opening anthem, as the text crawl slid into the depths of space?

 

That film debuted May 25, 1977, but — unlike these days, when ancillary merchandise is coordinated for simultaneous release — the soundtrack didn’t show up for weeks. I haunted record stores almost daily, to the point that one shop owner simply shook his head when I peered inside the door.

 

But when it finally, finally, finally arrived — oh, my stars and garters — it was a double-album gatefold. Darn near unprecedented, for an orchestral film score. Like, wow.

 

Okay, enough of all that.

 

Director Laurent Bouzereau’s detailed profile of Williams covers an impressive degree of territory in 105 minutes, given that a multi-part miniseries would be necessary to do full justice to the composer’s career. The 92-year-old Williams was an enthusiastic participant, and his anecdotes, close encounters and sage observations are deftly blended with vintage photographs and home movies (both his own and, later, some shot by Steven Spielberg).

 

Bouzereau also employs the talking heads that have become obligatory in such films, but unlike far too many lesser documentaries, these aren’t obscure academics or fawning pop stars of the moment. The list here is meaty and meaningful: filmmakers Spielberg, Ron Howard, George Lucas, J.J. Abrams, Chris Columbus and James Mangold; fellow soundtrack composers Alan Silvestri, Thomas Newman and David Newman; and celebrated musicians Itzhak Perlman, Yo-Yo Ma, Gustavo Dudamel, Branford Marsalis and Anne-Sophie Mutter.

We Live in Time: One for the ages

We Live in Time (2023) • View trailer

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

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 11.3.24

This is an eye-opening marvel: an absolutely perfect marriage of shrewd writing, skilled direction and transcendent performances.

 

Still blissed out after their first night together, Tobias (Andrew Garfield) and Almut
(Florence Pugh) pause on their respective sides of her closed apartment door,
and quietly contemplate what might come next.

The result is a romantic drama against which all others must be compared, and found superficial and unsatisfying.

Actually, “romantic drama” is too simple a descriptor. Director John Crowley and scripter Nick Payne have concocted a captivating experience that is equal parts drama, comedy, tragedy and several other elements so intricately interwoven, that the sum is far greater than its marvelous parts.

 

All brought to solemn, cheerful, cute, catastrophic and intensely intimate life by stars Florence Pugh and Andrew Garfield.

 

We meet Britishers Almut (Pugh) and Tobias (Garfield) as they confront a life-altering decision. She has an immediate response that would involve serious consequences; he’s more cautious and uncertain. These contrasting reactions are, we soon will learn, what initially — and continuously — defines their relationship.

 

They drive home in silence, but before we can process what just occurred, we’re yanked into Tobias’ life at another point in time: alone in a hotel room, faced with documents that must be signed. The immediate uncertainty — past or future? — establishes the means by which Crowley and Payne present this saga: as snapshots from a relationship that has spanned a decade, and (we soon realize) are being remembered in the present day.

 

To quote the film’s production notes, this is how we experience love: “in fits and starts, outside linear logic, in fleeting but indelible moments that are gorgeous, funny, high anxiety, delirious, sad and revelatory ... sometimes all at once.”

 

(Honestly, I couldn’t have said it better.)

 

I’ve generally not be impressed by films that capriciously bounce back and forth through time, like a frightened jackrabbit; the technique can be frustrating and annoying, and often doesn’t serve the story being told.

 

Crowley and Payne, however, pull it off with elegance.

 

When Tobias and Almut first meet, he’s the ultimate methodical, list-making wonk, climbing the corporate ladder at the Weetabix cereal and snack company. She’s an accomplished chef and co-owner of one of those posh London restaurants that serves meticulously garnished tiny portions that wouldn’t satisfy a starving rat. 

 

He knows what he wants, and pursues things with long-winded speeches that justify decisions; he wants children. She’s preternaturally multi-talented, and refuses to be pinned down ... while insisting on being granted the option of changing her mind. She doesn’t see herself with children.