Hollywood Stargirl: The sparkle is gone

Hollywood Stargirl (2022) • View trailer

Two stars (out of five). Rated PG, for mild profanity

Available via: Disney+

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 6.3.22

Sigh.

 

All that was fresh, clever and endearing about 2020’s Stargirl, is missing in this ill-advised sequel.

 

Over twin Shirley Temples, Stargirl (Grace VanderWaal, right) tries to find out why
Roxanne Martel (Uma Thurman) abandoned the music scene so many years ago,
after the well-received release of her one and only album.

The title is apt, because Hollywood Stargirl is pure product: a cynical, coldly calculated triumph of commerce over art. Everything feels processed and artificial; the dialogue throughout is particularly contrived and false.

Sadly, this “packaging” particularly applies to Grace VanderWaal. Gone is the bubbly, fresh-faced, free-spirited and wholly natural 16-year-old who starred in the first film. She has been replaced by an overly poised and coifed runway model whose gamine look has been based on Jean Seberg’s appearance in 1960’s Breathless.

 

And, my goodness, the make-up. Way too much, particularly with the overdone Elizabeth Taylor/Cleopatra eyes. I cannot imagine what make-up supervisor Geno Freeman was thinking.

 

The result? VanderWaal has been transformed into another of the interchangeable Radio Disney bubble-gum poppettes. Her uniqueness is gone.

 

In fairness, costume designer Natalie O’Brien outfits VanderWaal in dozens of adorable and wildly colorful outfits, each cuter and more vividly imaginative than the last. (The Los Angeles Times logo T-shirt Stargirl wears, at one point, is a deliberate nod to the Herald Tribune logo shirt Seberg wore in Breathless.)

 

It must be said, though, that this young woman of modest means has a stunningly large wardrobe.

 

As for the story…

 

Absent the Jerry Spinelli novel on which the first film was based, scripters Jordan Horowitz and Julia Hart — the latter also directed — have reached back to early 1940s Judy Garland/Mickey Rooney musicals, with a soupçon of 1960’s Pollyanna thrown in. But instead of “Hey kids, let’s put on a show,” this 21st century version is “Hey kids, let’s make a movie!”

 

That isn’t a bad idea, in and of itself, but Hart and Horowitz aren’t able to make their handling of said plot the slightest bit credible.

The Way Back: Sports as life

The Way Back (2020) • View trailer 
Four stars. Rated R, for frequent profanity 
By Derrick Bang

Well-crafted underdog sagas are can’t-miss cinema.

Redemption sagas are even better.

This film deftly blends the two, with inspiring results.

Former basketball great Jack Cunningham (Ben Affleck, right) initially finds little to love
when confronted with the lackadaisical members of the Bishop Hayes High School team;
even so, he soon spots untapped potential in some of the squad members.

Director Gavin O’Connor has an affinity for such material, having previously helmed 2004’s Miracle and 2011’s Warrior; just as crucially, he has an eye and ear for the interpersonal dynamics of people under stress. Given that The Way Back dives deep into the self-destructive anger that arises from unfathomable anguish, O’Connor and co-scripter Brad Ingelsby are blessed by a stand-out performance from star Ben Affleck.

Jack Cunningham (Affleck) works heavy construction by day, just this side of somnambulance after having collapsed into bed, dead drunk, each previous night. He consumes a case of beer during dinner, spends the rest of every evening at his favorite dive bar — where it obviously isn’t good that “everybody knows his name” — and by day conceals straight vodka in his stainless steel travel mug.

He’s taciturn, withdrawn and quick to anger: a barely functioning, late-stage alcoholic.

Family gatherings are tense, more so because of the hostility radiating from his sister, Beth (Michaela Watkins). She’s brittle and critical, neither of which ameliorates the dynamic; we sense her lack of patience results — in part — from long-simmering sibling rivalry. At the same time, we cannot miss the pain in Watkins’ gaze; Beth nonetheless loves her brother, and chafes at her inability to help.

O’Connor and Ingelsby are patient; answers do come, but only eventually and organically, as situations evolve.

Absent some sort of intervention, Jack is on course to drink himself to death. Then, unexpectedly, the fateful phone call: from Bishop Hayes High School, where — 25 years earlier — he was a basketball phenom granted a full university scholarship. Father Edward Devine (John Aylward, making the most of his congenial gruffness) is in desperate need of a replacement basketball coach. 

Remembering Jack’s glory days, and unaware of the mess he’s made of his life since then, Father Devine offers him the job.