Presence: Insubstantial

Presence (2024) • View trailer

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

Available via: Amazon Prime and other VOD services

By Derrick Bang

This movie is extremely exasperating.

 

During a long and (mostly) illustrious career, director Steven Soderberg has come in two flavors:

 

Realtor Cece (Julia Fox, far right) shows off the house to its soon-to-be new owners:
from left, Chloe (Callina Liang), Chris (Chris Sullivan), Tyler (Eddy Maday) and
Rebekah (Lucy Liu). Trouble is, the house already has a resident tenant...

• the crowd-pleasing maker of star-driven vehicles such as Out of Sight, Erin Brockovich, Traffic and the Oceans Eleven series; and, alternatively,

• the occasional cinematic experimenter who stretches the medium, starting with 1989’s Sex, Lies and Videotape, and continuing with 2002’s utterly unwatchable Full Frontal, and now this deliberately challenging take on the classic haunted house story.

 

The “gimmick” here is that the entire story emerges from the point of view of the ghost trapped within its lavish suburban home. The film never leaves the house, because the ghost cannot.

 

Okay, potentially clever in concept ... but the execution is an assault on the senses. The house is empty as scripter David Koepp’s narrative begins, and this entity initially swoops from room to room with supernatural speed, spinning and gyrating in a manner certain to induce vertigo and even nausea in viewers prone to motion sickness.

 

As usual, Soderberg is responsible for his own cinematography — “concealed” behind his familiar pseudonym, as Peter Andrews — so he’s wholly responsible for this dizzying assault on the senses. And although this spectral entity soon settles down a bit, its occasional whip-fast plunges — from one room to another — remain jarring.

 

The house soon is purchased and tastefully furnished by the not-so-typical American family of Rebekah (Lucy Liu), Chris (Chris Sullivan) and their two high school-age children, Tyler (Eddy Maday) and Chloe (Callina Liang).

 

We learn more about this family as the ghost eavesdrops on them, individually and collectively. Each revelatory session is a single tracking shot — some fleeting, some impressively long — which then cuts to a brief black screen, as the ghost slides through a wall to go elsewhere (at least, that’s what it feels like).

 

It soon becomes clear that Rebekah is clandestinely up to something shady, likely a sort of financial swindling, which worries Chris enough to think about separating. But he can’t, because he needs to be around for their fragile daughter, still deeply traumatized by the recent drug overdose of two friends, one her former bestie.

 

The unpleasantly arrogant Tyler, a bullying jock who swears constantly and believes that he walks on water, enjoys playing cruel pranks on vulnerable classmates; he also has no patience with his sister’s fragility. To make matters worse, Rebekah’s unwholesome fondness for him — at the expense of practically ignoring Chloe — borders on a Jocasta complex.

 

The Gorge: Not quite deep enough

The Gorge (2025) • View trailer

3.25 stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, for intense action and violence, brief profanity and dramatic impact

Available via: Apple TV+

By Derrick Bang

TheWrap cheekily dubs this “The romantic sniper monster movie you’ve been waiting for,” and that’s a fair description.

 

When Levi (Miles Teller) and Drasa (Anya Taylor-Joy) finally figure out a way to meet in
person, the flickering sparks of mutual attraction become incandescent.

I’ll go a step further: For the first hour or so, while director Scott Derrickson and scripter Zach Dean keep their cards concealed, this is a highly intriguing thriller fueled by two compelling characters, played superbly by Anya Taylor Joy and Miles Teller. This movie would be a silly little trifle without them.

Unfortunately, it’s eventually necessary to Provide Answers, and this film’s second half — although a rip-snortin’ roller coaster of pell-mell action — loses its smarts. The Reason For All This leaves far too many questions, hanging chads and plot holes large enough to fill the gorge in question.

 

Many films of this nature conclude with viewers sputtering “But, but, but...!” and wondering what logically would happen next, but this one’s in a league all its own.

 

Events begin as professional assassin Drasa (Joy) — a Lithuanian frequently employed by the Kremlin for covert ops — successfully completes an assignment with a long-range sniper rifle. She carefully retrieves the single spent cartridge shell and — during a subsequent meeting with her father, Erikas (William Houston) — hands it to him by way of purging her “sorrow.” He places it into a pouch laden with scores (hundreds?) of such shells.

 

But she’s shattered to learn that he’s dying of cancer. Unwilling to succumb slowly and painfully, he announces that he’ll end his life early the following year, on Valentine’s Day. Her chagrin is complex: Aside from not wanting to lose him, how will she then exorcise her sorrows?

 

Joy and Houston play this scene masterfully. She has long been adept at finely nuanced expressions and body language, since bursting onto the scene in the 2020 miniseries, The Queen’s Gambit. A wealth of emotions come into play here, particularly during the silences between sparse dialogue.

 

Elsewhere, in the States, former U.S. Marine scout/sniper Levi Kane (Teller) has lost his psychological edge; he suffers from nightmares about previous assignments. He’s nonetheless recruited by Bartholomew (Sigourney Weaver), a high-level spook of some sort, for a highly unusual, year-long assignment.

Mickey 17: One heckuva ride!

Mickey 17 (2025) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated R, for gruesome violence, profanity, sexual content and drug use

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 2.9.25

This is science-fiction cinema at its finest.

 

Director/scripter Bong Joon Ho’s mesmerizing adaptation of Edward Ashton’s 2022 novel has it all: a fascinating premise, solid characters, a persuasively chilling future, a tone that veers from brutally horrifying to macabre, and scathing social commentary.

 

One Mickey too many? Two "expendables" (both Robert Pattinson) are sent on a suicide
mission, in an effort to do something about the inhospitable elements on the faraway
planet of Niflheim.

That is, after all, science-fiction’s primary mission: to employ a high-tech backdrop as a means of calling out contemporary society’s failings.

And goodness, but we’ve been failing a lot lately.

 

Ho’s film hits the ground running, as the hapless Mickey (Robert Pattinson) struggles to awareness after having fallen into a deep, icy cavern. His stream-of-consciousness ramblings sound defeated and resigned.

 

Then, the overhead roar of engines; a figure appears atop the fissure. Timo (Steven Yeun) peers over the edge ... but instead of assisting, he rappels down just far enough to retrieve Mickey’s futuristic weapon, and then returns to his ship. This leaves Mickey to a fate that becomes even more dire, when weird, many-legged beasties burst into the cavern.

 

Okay, this isn’t Earth.

 

While praying for a fast death, rather than being devoured bit by bit, Mickey recalls what brought him to this fate.

 

We flash back four years and change. The year is 2054. Mickey and Timo have unwisely crossed a nasty loan shark; they’re given four days to replay the loan ... or else.

 

Mickey — a forlorn nebbish who has resigned himself to loser status — impulsively decides to leave the planet; Timo does the same.

 

That proves possible, thanks to a mission being mounted by Kenneth Marshall (Mark Ruffalo), a former congressman and failed two-time presidential candidate. Earth has become increasingly inhospitable, and — with the financial backing of a right-wing religious order — Marshall has become the public face of a voyage to the distant planet Niflheim, where a “righteous” new colony will be established.

 

Naïve, wide-eyed true believers line up by the hundreds, most sporting logo caps and flashing uniform salutes. Mickey fills out a form, and — not realizing the significance of this detail — signs up to become an “expendable.”

 

“Are you sure?” the receptionist asks, warily.

 

Why not? It’s not as if Mickey has amounted to anything up to this point.

 

Superboys of Malegaon: A super hit!

Superboys of Malegaon (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, for occasional profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

This is “Hey kids, let’s put on a show!” writ very large.

 

The emotional impact is augmented further by the fact that Bollywood director Reema Kagti’s charmer is based on actual events. The often rowdy result is thoroughly entertaining.

 

Nasir (Adarsh Gourav, second from right) tries for the best possible shot, while wielding
the camera with assistance from friends, from left, Shafique (Shashank Arora),
Nadeem (Ammol Kajani) and Farogh (Vineet Kumar Singh).

The year is 1997, the setting the primarily Islamic community of Malegaon, in the Nashik District of India’s Maharashtra State. A buoyant introductory montage, set against Sachin-Jigar’s jaunty score, introduces the story’s primary characters as they begin a typical day of work.

 

Wedding videographer Nasir (Adarsh Gourav), who operates out of a video parlor run by his older brother, is quick with an entrepreneurial hustle but prone to placing bets with money he doesn’t have. He’s often assisted by the handsome Nadeem (Anmol Kajani). 

 

Local journalist Farogh (Vineet Kumar Singh) composes poetry and aspires to become a screenwriter. The doleful Shafique (Shashank Arora), who works a loom in a sweatshop factory, never seems to smile.

 

Nasir’s staunchest advocate is Shabeena (Muskkaan Jaferi), who always has an encouraging word; alas, he doesn’t love her. Instead, he has long been sweet on Mallika (Riddhi Kumar), but her father never would allow his daughter to marry so lowly an individual. Even so, the two often sneak off to be together.

 

Nasir, Nadeem, Farogh, Shafique and several of their friends always are first in line, when a new Bollywood hit reaches their town. But Nasir, a rabid movie fan, takes it a step further; he screens silent films by Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton in the back room of his brother’s store ... but very few people come.

 

His “solution” is wildly audacious. Armed with a pair of VCRs, he blends the best scenes from those silent classics with kung fu footage from Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan movies, stitching the results into a sorta-kinda story laden with comedy and action. The result is a smash hit with the locals, who swarm the makeshift theater for repeat viewings ... until police officers smash everything, and warn Nasir to stop pirating.

 

Although dismayed by the ruins of his brother’s business, Nasir remains undeterred. His next scheme is even more brazen: a shot-for-shot, micro-budget remake of 1975’s Sholay, one of the biggest Bollywood action hits ever made, using solely local talent. He’ll call it Malegaon’s Sholay, in order to evade claims of piracy. 

 

Farogh loves this plan, since it will allow him to write the script ... but no, Nasir points out, there’s nothing to write, since they’ll simply follow the original movie’s template.

 

Our next movie will be an original, he promises.

Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy — Love's labors are delightfully messy

Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy (2025) • View trailer

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

Available via: Peacock

By Derrick Bang

I’d forgotten how much fun Helen Fielding’s ditzy singleton could be, when the author is at the top of her game.

 

When invited to share her job as a television producer during her son's classroom career
day, Bridget (Renée Zellweger) uses the opportunity to stage what becomes a revealing
"mock interview" with science teacher Scott Walker (Chiwetel Ejiofor).

This fourquel also brings the film series to a satisfying conclusion, since the previous entry — 2016’s Bridget Jones’ Baby — was such an unsatisfying detour.

The entire gang is back, and the script — by Fielding, Dan Mazer and Abi Morgan — is sharp, witty and laden with Bridget’s hilariously arch inner thoughts (which also become the diary entries that fueled Fielding’s first novel). Renée Zellweger still knows how to deliver a well-timed zinger, and her bemused, squinty expressions, head slightly cocked, are endearing.

 

This film’s surprise — for fans who’ve come to expect a light, frothy and playfully erotic tone — is its bittersweet atmosphere. 

 

As the story begins, Bridget is a sadder and wiser woman. She still mourns the loss of beloved husband Mark Darcy (Colin Firth), who was killed by a land mine in Sudan four years earlier, while negotiating the release of aid workers. She still “sees” him at telling moments (which gives Firth several significant and poignant scenes).

 

Bridget has withdrawn from life, to the extent a single parent of two young children can do so. She hasn’t socialized for any reason in ages. Her home is a mess; the refrigerator and grocery shelves are mostly empty; preparing meals is an exercise in unpalatable results; and she spends far too much time in pajamas. She also hasn’t worked for a long time (which makes one wonder what she and her children are living on).

 

Six-year-old Mabel (Mila Jankovic) is an irrepressible bundle of energy, laughter and noise; 10-year-old Billy (Casper Knopf), much quieter, withdraws into chess, science books and video games.

 

But a gathering to celebrate Mark’s life cannot be avoided, even though Bridget almost chickens out. Faithful friend and former lover Daniel Cleaver (Hugh Grant), willingly pressed into last-minute babysitting duties, laments that “You’re effectively a nun ... although a very naughty nun.”

 

(Seriously ... Bridget isn’t Bridget, without constant references to sex!)

Goodrich: An engaging family dramedy

Goodrich (2024) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated R, and perhaps too harshly, for profanity

Available via: MAX

By Derrick Bang

This seems to be “Memory Lane” season for Michael Keaton.

 

He resurrected his saucy demon in last summer’s Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, and this dramedy is a sorta-kinda reboot of 1983’s Mr. Mom.

 

Parenting isn't easy, as absentee dad Andy (Michael Keaton) discovers, when trying to
make up for lost time with his 9-year-old twins, Mose (Jacob Kopera) and Billie
(Vivien Lyra Blair).

But only sorta-kinda. Writer/director Hallie Meyers-Shyer eschews broad comedy strokes in favor of gentler, kinder humor that arises organically from her story’s plot beats.

That said, Keaton is inherently, effortlessly funny, even when dialed down; this has been obvious since his breakout supporting role in 1982’s Night Shift. His signature smirky grin is disarming; the recipient never knows whether a joke is being playfully shared, or if he’s the victim of the zinger.

 

Here, though, that twitchy smile is a reflexive self-defense mechanism, designed to conceal true feelings ... which is at the heart of the title character’s failings.

 

Andy Goodrich (Keaton) is a 60-year-old Los Angeles art dealer. He’s always taking calls, courting the next Hot Talent, and working long hours at his boutique gallery in order to prepare an upcoming installation ... all at the expense of spending time with his much younger wife, Naomi (Laura Benanti), and two 9-year-old twins, Billie (Vivien Lyra Blair) and Mose (Jacob Kopera).

 

The film begins as a phone call blasts Andy out of bed one morning; it’s Naomi, calling from the rehab clinic where she has just checked in for a 90-day detox program. As it happens, this will span the holiday season of Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas.

 

Andy is gob-smacked, having been oblivious to her prescription pill addiction. That only makes the situation worse, and Naomi coldly demands that he not visit her.

 

He tries anyway, only to be rebuffed by a cheerfully unhelpful receptionist who won’t even confirm or deny Naomi’s presence. 

 

Kimberly Condict, as the receptionist, is on camera for barely a minute, but her sweetly condescending, I’ve-got-your-number-buster manner is absolutely hilarious.

Captain America: Brave New World — Oh, really?

Captain America: Brave New World (2025) • View trailer

2.5 stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, for intense action violence and mild profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

The bloom definitely has worn off the Marvel Cinematic Universe rose.

 

More than most, this new Captain America outing relies too heavily on details from previous MCU entries. Keeping a score card isn’t enough; nothing short of an annotated spread sheet would suffice.

 

When two American fighter pilots inexplicabgly go rogue, and start firing on Japanese
military vessels, Captain America (Anthony Mackie, right) and Falcon (Danny Ramirez)
know they must act quickly, to prevent a war.

The result here is something of a mess, with one engaging sub-plot overwhelmed by a far too complicated set of fresh crises. But that’s to be expected from a film with five (!) credited scripters, who seem to have competed with each other, in a contest to resurrect the most obscure MCU nugget.

That said, Anthony Mackie deserves ample credit for navigating the herculean task of holding this mess together as well as possible, and for capably replacing Chris Evans’ Steve Rogers as the new red, white and blue Captain America. Mackie’s Sam Wilson isn’t quite the same shield-slinger, though; he’s more a Cap 2.0.

 

Lacking Rogers’ super soldier serum-enhanced strength and agility, Sam has compensated with a set of vibranium and gadget-laden wings that would be the envy of Iron Man. Sam also has a fresh-faced partner: Joaquin Torres (Danny Ramirez, as playful as a puppy), a “Falcon-in-training,” last seen in 2021’s The Falcon and the Winter Soldier TV miniseries.

 

As this overcooked saga begins, former military hawk Thaddeus Ross (Harrison Ford) has just been elected President of the United States. Elsewhere, Sam and Joaquin are tasked with retrieving a cannister of the metal alloy adamantium, stolen by the mercenary Sidewinder (Giancarlo Esposito) from Japanese scientists who’ve extracted it from the massive “Celestial Island.” 

 

(This “island” actually is the dead body of a celestial named Tiamut, now floating in the Indian Ocean, who was defeated by the Eternals in their eponymous 2021 film, which many of today’s viewers won’t know, because that film was a notorious flop.)

 

Cap and Falcon are successful, although Sidewinder survives to fight another day. Sam also gets an unexpected “attaboy” from the newly installed President Ross, who has long held a love/hate relationship with superheroes. At this moment, though, Ross insists that his views have changed, and he even floats the notion of re-establishing The Avengers.

 

(In the MCU, Ross’ behavior dates back to 2008’s The Incredible Hulk, when — then played by William Hurt — he oversaw a project with his daughter Betty’s boyfriend, scientist Bruce Banner, which went awry and transformed him into the not-so-jolly green giant. Ross went on a vengeful tear that ultimately disbanded and divided the Avengers in 2016’s Captain America: Civil War, which left Earth more vulnerable when Thanos subsequently wreaked havoc in Avengers: Infinity War and Avengers: Endgame. And, much to Ross’ dismay, drove Betty into estrangement from her father.)

The Oscar Shorts: The great ... and not so great

The Oscar Shorts (2024) • View trailer

Five to zero stars (out of five). Not rated, but absolutely not suited for young children

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

I always look forward to the annual Academy Award-nominated short subjects, because succeeding in that form requires a special skill.

 

It’s the visual equivalent of literary talent. It’s easier to develop an engaging page-turner in the limitless expanse of a novel, but far more difficult to achieve the same dramatic or comedic punch in 14 short pages.

 

And, given how many current big-screen films are overly long and self-indulgent, watching a 22-minute filmlet is a welcome relief.

This year’s crop of live-action entries is quite strong, but the animated nominees are ... a mixed bag.

 

Starting with the former, director Adam J. Graves’ Anuja is the gripping saga of the 9-year-old title character (Sajda Pathan) and her older sister, Palak (Ananya Shanbhag). They live on the streets of Delhi, India, and eke out a hand-to-mouth existence by working in a sweatshop garment factory. The parentless girls’ “home” is an abandoned building, their food meager at best.

 

Palak knows that her younger sister is whip-smart, with a talent for math. Anuja is given an opportunity to attend school, but the placement exam involves a fee that girls never could raise. Worse yet, when the factory’s intimidating manager (Nagesh Bhonsle, in a hissably oily performance) learns of Anuja’s talent, he wants her to spend one day a week doing clerical work for him ... and warns that if she chooses school, Palak will lose her job.

 

Graves’ storytelling approach is unembroidered, which adds to the dramatic impact. He doesn’t preach, choosing instead to simply show every detail of the girls’ grinding, hard-scrabble existence.

 

The story’s conclusion is a nail-biter, but additional dramatic heft comes from the final text block: Graves’ film was made with the support of the Salaam Baalak Trust, a nonprofit that provides food, shelter and education to thousands of street and working children in New Delhi. Pathan — as impressively gifted young actress — is one of those children. Simply amazing.

All We Imagine as Light: Incandescent

All We Imagine as Light (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Not rated, and suitable for all ages

Available via: Amazon Prime and other VOD options

By Derrick Bang

Most memorable films are driven by a strong, compelling narrative that dictates the behavior of its characters: challenges to be overcome, problems to be solved, relationships to be resolved.

 

As Prabha (Kani Kusruti, left) watches apprehensively, Anu (Divya Prabha) tries to
figure out where this unexpected gift — a fancy rice cooker — came from.

Indian writer/director Payal Kapadia takes a different approach, with this delicate, heartfelt drama. All We Imagine As Light is more of an atmospheric, cinematic tone poem: a calmly meditative piece that makes its Mumbai setting — brought to exquisite life by cinematographer Ranabir Das — as much a character as the three women whose lives intersect in gently poignant and quietly heartbreaking ways.

We’re first introduced to the city itself, as viewed through the windows of a passing bus, via an impressively long tracking shot: bustling, cacophonous, overwhelmingly crowded. And hot, humid and wet; rain is constant, windows nonetheless left open to catch an occasional stray breeze.

 

This portion of the city — Lower Parel to Dadar — is in constant transformation, with rapacious developers demolishing residential chawls (tenements) that have long housed the workers who keep the city functioning, into gated luxury building complexes and high-end shopping malls.

 

One particularly obnoxious billboard shamelessly flaunts the blatant unfairness of India’s caste system: “Class is a privilege ... reserved for the privileged.”

 

Random individuals express their thoughts, off camera and in different languages — Gujarati, Bhojpuri, Bengali — as this bus proceeds, each brief snippet a haunting saga of its own:

 

“I’ve lived here maybe 23 years, but I feel afraid to call it home. There’s always the feeling I’ll have to leave.”

 

“I fought with my dad, so I packed my bag and left for Mumbai. My brother had a job at the dockyard. His place smelled so bad, the first night I couldn’t sleep.”

 

“I was pregnant, but I didn’t tell anyone, because I’d recently found a job at a house. I had to take care of a lady’s kids, but they were pests. But the lady ... she fed me well. That year I ate like a queen.”

I'm Still Here: A formidable tribute to one woman's courage

I'm Still Here (2024) • View trailer

Five stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, for dramatic intensity, drug use, fleeting nudity and occasional profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

Political statements don’t come much stronger than this one.

 

Nor as authentic.

 

Rubens (Selton Mello) and his wife Eunice (Fernanda Torres) enjoy a playful moment
with their two youngest children, Marcelo (Guilherme Silveira) and Maria (Cora Mora),
on the beach in front of their home.

Brazilian director Walter Salles’ quietly chilling docu-drama is based faithfully on Marcelo Rubens Paiva’s Ainda Estou Aqui, a 2015 biography of his mother, Eunice, and what she and her family endured in the early 1970s.

The setting is Rio de Janeiro, six years into the 21-year military dictatorship that overthrew the democratically elected president in 1964. Eunice (Fernanda Torres), her husband Rubens (Selton Mello) and their five children — Vera (Valentina Herszage), Eliana (Luiza Kosovski), Nalu (Barbara Luz), Marcelo (Guilherme Silveira) and Maria (Cora Mora) — live comfortably in a welcoming beachside home. Their doors and windows are always open, beckoning friends and neighbors.

 

Beloved live-in housekeeper Zeze (Pri Helena) may as well be a family member.

 

Salles spends considerable time on this idyllic introduction. The family often is at the beach, Marcelo kicking a soccer ball with friends, while his sisters play volleyball. Eunice floats contentedly in the calm ocean waters. Meals are cheerfully boisterous, often with visitors. Marcelo finds an adorable stray dog on the beach; Rubens hasn’t the heart to refuse his son’s entreaty to adopt it.

 

The warmth, tenderness and conviviality displayed in these early scenes is the best argument I’ve yet seen for establishing an Academy Awards category for casting directors. In this case, Leticia Naveira has assembled an amazing ensemble of actors; the children, in particular, display the closely knit camaraderie and love we’d expect from an actual family. Interactions with their parents, and peers and other adults, are equally persuasive.

 

These establishing scenes are an intoxicating blend of Adrian Teijido’s gorgeous 35mm cinematography — as luxurious as the beachside setting — and amateur footage shot by Vera, with her new Super 8 camera

 

If all of this looks and feels unexpectedly intimate, it arrives honestly. Salles has long known the Paiva family; he spent part of his adolescence in the house that becomes central to this film. Directors often regard certain projects as a “labor of love,” and that’s absolutely, clearly the case here.

Love Hurts: A painful outcome

Love Hurts (2025) • View trailer

2 stars (out of five). Rated R, for strong bloody violence, gore and relentless profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

Ke Huy Quan, still fresh from his Oscar win for Everything Everywhere All at Once, can’t be blamed for capitalizing on his renewed 15 minutes of fame.

 

But one could wish he chose his projects more carefully.

 

When Rose (Ariana DeBose) rashly decides to come out of hiding, she hopes to enlist
Marvin (Ke Huy Quan) in her scheme to seek revenge for past events. Alas, Marvin
doesn't wish to wreck the comfortable life he has build ... but will he have a choice?

At its best — and I use that term very loosely — this fitfully amusing guilty pleasure can be regarded as a more vicious nod to Jackie Chan’s chaotic, exploit-the-surroundings martial arts style.

Quan has serious taekwondo chops, having spent his 20-year acting hiatus working as an action/stunt consultant under the tutelage of Hong Kong director/choreographer Corey Yuen. Quan displays all the right moves here, employing everything from office furniture to laptops while handling everything (literally) thrown at him by stunt coordinator Can Aydin.

 

This film’s wafer-thin plot — cobbled together by scripters Matthew Murray, Josh Stoddard and Luke Passmore — also gets points for its mordant humor. One baddie fancies himself a poet; a second one can’t figure out how to patch things up with his wife; the Valentine’s Day setting repeatedly comes into play.

 

But stunt coordinator-turned-first-time-director Jonathan Eusebio and his writers break the cardinal rule of such films: Killing innocents isn’t kosher ... and it’s a particularly egregious sin when their demise is accompanied by a slice of gratuitously tasteless gore.

 

Eusebio’s film lurches to an abrupt stop when he so indulges ... and, in the blink of an eye, the fun drains away.

 

Never to return.

 

(The endless F-bombs also don’t help.)

 

Marvin Gable (Quan), a realtor heading his own Milwaukee firm, has achieved considerable success thanks to the savvy care and charm with which he matches prospective buyers with their imagined dream homes. Alas, a crimson envelope shatters his routine on this particular February 14; it’s from Rose (Ariana DeBose), a former partner-in-crime whom he long ago left for dead.

 

But before he can consider the implications of her reappearance, Marvin is attacked by the hulking Raven (Mustafa Shakir); the subsequent skirmish destroys Marvin’s office, the cacophony somehow failing to be noticed by the rest of his staff.

 

Even executive assistant Ashley (Lio Tipton) regards the noise behind her boss’ closed door with little more than mild curiosity, but she has an excuse: cynicism and disillusionment with life, exacerbated by the hearts-and-flowers trappings of this contrived “day of love.”

The Brutalist: A monumental effort

The Brutalist (2024) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated R, for strong sexual content, graphic nudity, rape, profanity and drug use

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 2.2.25

This film is impressive in many respects. 

 

Director/co-writer Brady Corbet ambitiously tackles an overwhelming, quite possibly unattainable endeavor much the way this story’s protagonist does.

 

Immigrant architect László Tóth (Adrien Brody) has an uphill battle, persuading old-money
movers and shakers that his cutting-edge structure will be an asset to their community.

Alas, Corbet’s reach ultimately exceeds his grasp.

From the very first frame, this film Calls Attention To Itself. Lol Crawley’s cinematographic choice is 70mm VistaVision, a throwback logo and widescreen variant long discarded since its 1950s debut. Sebastian Pardo’s title credits design mimics the shape and style of the Brutalism architectural movement that erupted in Europe and — as in this story — Pennsylvania during that same decade.

 

Further mimicking this Old Hollywood approach, Corbet’s film opens with an overture, then proceeds with a first act — “The Enigma of Arrival” — a 15-minute intermission (with a clock that counts down against a key photograph), followed by a second act — “The Hard Core of Beauty” — and an epilogue.

 

Daniel Blumberg’s wildly eclectic score often clashes — deliberately — with the cacophonous “slabs of noise” from Andy Neil’s sound design. The result is jarring, startling and disorienting, reflecting the central character’s professional, mental and emotional journey.

 

It often feels like this saga is based on actual events, and actual people, but no; aside from acknowledging the post-WWII Brutalism movement itself, Corbet and co-writer Mona Fastvoid’s entirely fictitious story and characters are merely suggested by Brutalist architects Le Corbusier, Paul Rudolph and Ralph Rapson, with a narrative arc that owes much to Ayn Rand’s The Fountainhead, and a soupçon of Orson Welles’ Citizen Kane.

 

László Tóth (Adrien Brody) is introduced in a confusing blur of motion: a Hungarian Holocaust survivor newly arrived in the United States, on a ship laden with fellow immigrants. Tellingly, his first view of the Statue of Liberty is upside-down, and then sideways, as he emerges from the ship’s bowels: a warning that America’s promise of opportunity is skewed.

 

That, coupled with the preceding Goethe quote — “None are more hopelessly enslaved than those who falsely believe themselves free” — promises that László’s subsequent journey will not end happily.