Pressure: Fascinating, behind-the-scenes D-Day saga

Pressure (2026) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five); rated PG-13, for war violence, bloody images and brief profanity

Available via: Peacock (free to subscribers) and other paid VOD options

By Derrick Bang

Director Anthony Maras’ fact-based drama opens on a grim scene that evokes 1998’s Saving Private Ryan.

 

It’s late April 1944. An ashen-faced Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhower (Brendan Fraser) slowly walks along Slapton Sands beach in Devon, horrified by the multitude of dead and wounded soldiers, some floating in the waves lapping at the shore. It’s the ghastly wake of Exercise Tiger, a two-day D-Day rehearsal which, because of miscommunication, resulted in the deaths of at least 750 American servicemen, hundreds due to friendly fire.

 

Meteorologist James Stagg (Andrew Scott, right) isn't surprised when his forecast for
the impending D-Day invasion — advising against mounting the offensive on the
chosen day — angers Gen. Eisenhower (Brendan Fraser), but he quietly refuses
to change his mind.

That catastrophe remained largely unknown until the 1988 publication of historian Charles B. MacDonald’s Slapton Sands: The “Cover Up” That Never Was.

The prologue amplifies Eisenhower’s determination to make no mistakes on D-Day.

 

It’s also the first of two “I never knew that” revelations within this film, adapted by Maras and playwright David Haig from the latter’s 2012 play of the same title.

 

We cut to June 2, inside the London home of eminent Scottish meteorologist James Stagg (Andrew Scott) and his very pregnant wife, Liz (Tamsin Topolski). Just as they finish breakfast, Stagg is collected by a military escort, having been appointed Chief Meteorological Officer for the Supreme Headquarters Allied Expeditionary Force, commanded by Eisenhower.

 

(In November 1943, Stagg was granted an emergency commission with the rank of group captain in the Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve, giving him an essential level of authority in a military milieu unaccustomed to outsiders ... a detail that this film’s script should have supplied.)

 

Stagg arrives at the heavily guarded Southwick House, and is thrown amidst a group of several dozen researchers and meteorologists under the command of American Col. Irving P. Krick (Chris Messina), who accurately supplied weather conditions for Eisenhower’s earlier African and Middle-Eastern campaigns. Krick and this new team have been tasked with selecting the optimal conditions for the Normandy landing: a specific overlap of weather, the tides, the time of day, and the phase of the moon.

 

They’ve relied on information sent by amateur and professional weather watchers studying conditions, and sending up weather balloons, from hundreds of locations in surrounding countries and bodies of water. Armed with all this data — and one other factor, to be discussed in a moment — Krick confidently assures Eisenhower that conditions will be perfect at 6:30 a.m. Monday, June 5.

 

(No, that isn’t a typo. It’s the basis of this drama.) 

Killers of the Flower Moon: Unforgettable

Killers of the Flower Moon (2023) • View trailer

Five stars (out of five). Rated R, for violence, grisly images and profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 10.27.23

This is a masterpiece. 

 

It’s the pinnacle of director Martin Scorsese’s career … which, obviously, needed no further burnishing. But there you go: 81 years old, and more visionary than ever.

 

William Hale (Robert De Niro, center) beams on the day his nephew, Ernest Burkhart
(Leonardo DiCaprio) marries Osage woman Mollie Kyle (Lily Gladstone) ... but
Hale's delight has very little to do with genuine affection.

I was reminded, while thoroughly engaged during this film’s (admittedly intimidating) 206-minute running time, of Roger Ebert’s Second Law of Motion Pictures: “No good movie is too long.”

True that. (But an intermission would have been nice.)

 

In adapting journalist David Grann’s 2017 nonfiction book of the same title, Scorsese and co-scripter Eric Roth have aimed a much-needed spotlight — particularly during these tempestuous times of revisionist classroom instruction — on a mostly forgotten slice of American history every bit as heinous as the two-day 1921 race massacre in the Greenwood district of Tulsa, Okla. (which this film briefly references).

 

Scorsese’s film is bookended by Osage cultural rituals, the first a melancholy “pipe ceremony” as the elders mourn the forced assimilation of their children into white American society. It’s the early 20th century, and a sudden silver lining erupts against this sad tableau: Oil is discovered on the Oklahoma reservation, located northwest of Tulsa. (Yep, Tulsa. Again.)

 

Within half a generation, members of the Osage community are, per capita, the world’s wealthiest individuals. They have automobiles, fancy clothes, plenty of glam … and servants. White servants. (Imagine how well that goes down.)

 

Even so, as per U.S. government-mandated reservation law, white “guardians” must manage each individual’s money. (Imagine how well that goes down.)

 

The story proper begins in 1919, as Ernest Burkhart (Leonardo DiCaprio) returns from WWI service, where he’s reunited with his brother Byron (Scott Shepherd) and uncle William Hale (Robert De Niro). The latter has an extensive cattle ranch on reservation land — no oil operations — and has, over time, been embraced as a staunch friend and benefactor to the Osage, speaking their language and participating in all important rituals.

 

Ernest’s initial “interview” with his uncle is revealing. Under Hale’s cheerful, fatherly probing, the younger man bashfully acknowledges his primary interests in money, whiskey and women. DiCaprio is sublime here, as Ernest radiates embarrassment over his limited intelligence; he’s quite unsophisticated, lacking the worldly wisdom that should have resulted from his war service. Unable to handle heavy labor due to a war injury, he gratefully agrees to serve as a chauffeur.

 

No Sudden Move: Suspensefully riveting

No Sudden Move (2021) • View trailer

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

Available via: HBO Max

By Derrick Bang

Fans of slow-burn crime thrillers will love this one.

 

Scripter Ed Solomon’s noir-ish saga is given precisely the right look and atmosphere by director Steven Soderbergh and production designer Hannah Beachler. The post-WWII Detroit setting emphasizes the deplorable racial divide between cozy white neighborhoods and decaying inner-city Black districts, and the wary mistrust this prompts from both sides.

 

Having maneuvered their way up the conspiratorial food chain, Ronald (Benicio Del Toro,
left) and Curt (Don Cheadle) are startled by where they've suddenly wound up.

Soderbergh’s camera glides languidly along both sets of streets, as if perched atop a slow-moving vehicle; he frequently employs a fish-eyed lens, which distorts the image at both edges. This adds to the unsettling, overall sense of disorientation experienced by our fish-out-of-water protagonists. (As he has done before, Soderbergh “hides” behind the pseudonym “Peter Andrews,” when he handles his own cinematography.)

The year is 1954. Curt Goynes (Don Cheadle), recently released from prison, is offered a job by shady go-between Jones (Brendan Fraser). It sounds simple enough: babysit the family of low-level General Motors executive Matt Wertz (David Harbour) for a couple of hours.

 

“Babysit,” meaning “guard at gunpoint while something goes down elsewhere.”

 

Jones also recruits Ronald Russo (Benicio Del Toro), similarly down on his luck, who isn’t wild about sharing a job with, ah, someone of color. (Cheadle’s dry amusement, when the two men share the back seat of Jones’ car, is priceless.) The little gang is augmented further by Charley Barnes (Kieran Culkin), who outlines the plan.

 

Charley will “escort” Matt to his office, to retrieve a document from a certain safe. Curt and Ronald will keep Matt’s family at home: wife Mary (Amy Seimetz) and their two children, Matthew Jr. (Noah Jupe) and Peggy (Lucy Holt). The three criminals will remain masked the entire time; if everybody cooperates, everybody lives.

 

The raw intensity of the early morning home invasion is palpable, as Mary and her children are startled by the sudden appearance of these three menacing intruders. Curt’s calming words do little to ease the atmosphere of terror; Seimetz’s performance is sublime, as the terrified Mary — and we — expect something awful to happen, at any moment.

 

Extraordinary Measures: Merely ordinary

Extraordinary Measures (2010) • View trailer for Extraordinary Measures
3.5 stars (out of five). Rating: PG, for mild profanity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 1.22.10
Buy DVD: Extraordinary Measures • Buy Blu-Ray: Extraordinary Measures [Blu-ray]


The quest for medical miracles, although obviously compelling to those intimately involved, can be a tough sell cinematically; the real-world process is frustrating and grindingly slow, the obsessed, lab-coated doctors and researchers generally far from the big-screen archetypes likely to bring us into the story.

The usual "solutions," as a result, involve the infusion of melodrama and the fabrication of fictitious characters; the resulting narrative — at this point merely "suggested by" actual events, as opposed to rigorously factual — can turn into an eye-rolling TV movie designed to manipulate more than educate.

Dr. Robert Stonehill (Harrison Ford, left) increasingly resents what he perceives
as partner John Crowley's (Brendan Fraser) bean-counting "corporatized"
decisions, believing that pure research is being sacrificed on the altar of
"acceptable loss." It's a frequent argument in today's biotech field, and one of
this film's most persuasive dramatic components.

Fortunately, Extraordinary Measures doesn't succumb to such shortcomings ... at least, not completely.

Robert Nelson Jacobs' screenplay — drawn from the book The Cure, by Pulitzer Prize-winning writer Geeta Anand, who in turn based it on her own August 2003 Wall Street Journal article — does an impressive job of detailing the frankly insane financial and corporate constraints under which miracle drugs are developed these days. The saga is fascinating and frequently overwhelming, particularly with respect to the notion that any "regular citizen" could survive, let alone make progress, in such a process.

Our hearts are won as well by Brendan Fraser's persuasive and wholly sympathetic starring performance as John Crowley, who with his wife Aileen (Keri Russell) have been coping with having two children — out of three — who suffer from Pompe Disease, an extremely rare genetic disorder somewhat related to both muscular dystrophy and Lou Gehrig's Disease. It's fatal, with most children dying before their ninth birthday.

As the film opens, Megan (Meredith Droeger, a genuine charmer) is celebrating her eighth birthday. Patrick (Diego Velazquez), not quite two years younger, has the same disease; both children require wheelchairs, breathing devices and constant monitoring by trained nurses. First-born son John Jr. (Sam Hall) is completely healthy.

Crowley, having educated himself to every possible degree, is drawn repeatedly to the theoretical research of Dr. Robert Stonehill (Harrison Ford), whose efforts are largely ignored in the tiny lab he holds together at a Nebraska university. Ford plays Stonehill as a crusty eccentric with two ex-wives and a preference for working with loud music blaring: a guy who can't really be bothered with "people skills."

Inkheart: Somewhat stained

Inkheart (2008) • View trailer for Inkheart
Three stars (out of five). Rating: PG, for quite a lot of scary action violence
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 1.23.09
Buy DVD: Inkheart • Buy Blu-Ray: Inkheart (+ BD-Live) [Blu-ray]

Some movies are curious creatures, and Inkheart is a perfect example.

Director Iain Softley's adaptation of Cornelia Funke's best-selling novel is handsomely mounted, with a top-drawer cast, sumptuous production values and quite believable special effects. The story itself, scripted by David Lindsay-Abaire with Funke's participation, is a clever pastiche of beloved fairy tales, and a tribute to the sense of wonder that books can awaken in readers young and old.

After being confronted by a wealth of fantastic events, Mo (Brendan Fraser) and
his daughter, Meggie (Eliza Hope Bennett), hope for answers and suggestions
from Elinor (Helen Mirren) ... but get little beyond rambling speeches. Try as
it might, this film simply doesn't deliver the magic one expects from such
an engaging premise.

All the necessary elements are present, and the movie should deliver the same edge-of-the-seat suspense that Funke's 2004 book brought to so many happy fans (who then went on to devour the two sequels, 2005's Inkspell and last year's Inkdeath).

And yet...

Softley's film is oddly soulless. Genuine tension is frequently absent, because some of the actors simply don't sell the material all that persuasively. (Paul Bettany is a vibrant exception; he's sensational.) In star Brendan Fraser's case, the problem could be too much familiarity; after three Mummy installments and last summer's Journey to the Center of the Earth, his "wise-cracking reluctant hero" schtick is wearing rather thin.

As for Helen Mirren, she's inhabiting some other film entirely. Her character's stream-of-consciousness monologues are pointless and mildly annoying, and Softley's handling of Mirren is clumsy and even embarrassing at times. What's the point of hiring an actress of her caliber, if she's not given anything important to do?

The other problem, also having to do with familiarity, isn't this film's fault. It should be noted that Adam Sandler's recent Christmas vehicle, Bedtime Stories, bears a highly uncomfortable resemblance to the central gimmick in Funke's books: the notion that reading/telling a story aloud brings its ingredients — characters, settings, random bric-a-brac — to life in our "real" world.

Two such film fantasies, arriving right on top of each other? Somebody's been reading somebody else's mail again...

(Not long into this film, readers of Jasper Fforde's popular Thursday Next novels also will discover similarities between the two series. For the record, Funke's books are aimed at young readers, while Fforde's offerings — and their endless use of hilariously awful puns and wordplay — are much more adult.)

The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor -- Crumbling Saga

The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor (2008) • View trailer for The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor
Three stars (out of five). Rating: PG-13, for plenty of grody action violence
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 8.1.08
Buy DVD: The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor • Buy Blu-Ray: The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor (Deluxe Edition) [Blu-ray]

I have learned, over the years, to diminish my expectations when movies open in a particular manner:

• In a psychiatrist's office (only bad thrillers and horror flicks do this);

• With a voice-over prologue inserted to compensate for eleventh-hour editing that rendered the storyline incomprehensible;

Facing a veritable army of re-animated terra cotta soldiers, Rick and Evelyn
O'Connell (Brendan Fraser and Maria Bello) are relived (?) when their small band
of defenders is joined by thousands of revenge-seeking skeletons long-buried
beneath the Great Wall of China.

• With an extended flashback sequence that begins to feel longer than the film itself.

The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor falls into the latter category, although this is by no means its only flaw.

Action director Rob Cohen — taking over this franchise from creator Stephen Sommers, who helmed the first two entries — has delivered precisely the cartoon one would expect from the guy who brought us The Fast and the Furious and XXX. Cohen behaves like a second-unit stunt director; he rarely wastes time with trifles such as plot logic or characterization, preferring instead to charge from one frantic chase or fight scene to the next.

His films are breathless examples of cinematic whiplash, which I suppose is fine for the video game set, but less so for everybody else. Cohen obviously never learned the wisdom of pacing, or of balancing the frantic stuff with calmer scenes, so that viewers might relax for a moment and then better appreciate the next thrilling rush.

A nonstop diet of anything becomes tiresome, and that's the major problem with this Mummy: It never lets up, and that's boring. Older fans will recall that this misjudgment also plagued Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, which similarly went from one crazed action sequence to the next, with nary a pause for reflection or — God forbid — character development.

Then, too, scripters Alfred Gough and Miles Millar subscribe to the mistaken notion that anything goes in fantasy, and that consistency therefore is nothing more than a word in the dictionary, somewhere between clumsy and crummy. That's a newbie writing mistake, because of course the opposite is true: If we're to care a whit for the heroes and villains in fantasies, then they must be granted consistent strengths and weaknesses.

It simply doesn't work, as is the case here, when the villain can surmount any situation by suddenly whipping up some new power, such as morphing into a three-headed dragon. Nor is the situation helped by the sudden appearance of a magical knife — the only weapon that can defeat him! — that springs up out of nowhere, introduced by one character as an afterthought apparently inserted into the fifth draft of page 35.

Mostly, though, this Mummy doesn't work because too many key actors can't inhabit the movie.

Journey to the Center of the Earth: Rollicking trip

Journey to the Center of the Earth (2008) • View trailer for Journey to the Center of the Earth
3.5 stars (out of five). Rating: PG, for fantasy peril
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 7.11.08
Buy DVD: Journey to the Center of the Earth • Buy Blu-Ray: Journey to the Center of the Earth [Blu-ray]

This is the best Walt Disney film that Uncle Walt never made.

Director Eric Brevig's Journey to the Center of the Earth is unapologetically retro: an old-style, family-friendly adventure highlighted by contemporary set design and creature technology. More than once, this film strongly echoes Disney's 1962 adaptation of In Search of the Castaways — another Jules Verne tale, it should be mentioned — most notably during a roaring sequence as our heroes tear down a hillside on a roundish "vehicle" of sorts.

The calm before all heck breaks loose: Our intrepid explorers — from left,
Trevor (Brendan Fraser), Sean (Josh Hutcherson) and Hannah (Anita Briem) —
make their way through a mysteriious cave, unaware that the ground is about to
give way and plunge them into an exciting adventure.

The script — by Michael Weiss, Jennifer Flackett and Mark Levin — is simple and superficial, but I don't mean that in a bad way; the film simply avoids angst and complicated interpersonal dynamics. We're quickly and economically introduced to our three main characters, who begin with mildly prickly relationships with each other — the better for mostly gentle one-liners — and then they pretty much carry the film on their own.

In a rather clever nod toward Verne's classic novel, which scientist Trevor Anderson (Brendan Fraser) insists remains a "good read," our heroes use the book as a blueprint for their own incredible saga. They eventually treat the book's chapters less as a whopping tall tale, and more as an early "rough guide" to life beneath the surface.

What we 21st century citizens know of actual science must be ignored, of course ... but this film is so good- natured about its casual disregard for basic laws of physics and temperature dynamics, that we cheerfully go along for the ride.

I must bow to the continuing savvy of Walden Media, which has delivered yet another delightfully earnest adaptation of an established book, following in the recent footsteps of Holes, Hoot, Charlotte's Web, Bridge to Terabithia and both Chronicles of Narnia entries, among others. Every one of these films can be enjoyed by all ages, without pandering to children or annoying their adult companions.

My earlier nod to Uncle Walt is equally earnest; I'm certain he would have loved Walden Media's films, since the production company strives for the same elements typical of late 1950s and early '60s Disney live-action entries such as Old Yeller, Polyanna, The Swiss Family Robinson, The Incredible Journey and, as mentioned, Castaways.

Or let's put it this way: If some cranky relative of a certain age complains about how "movies aren't made like they used to be," bring said individual along when you catch this Journey to the Center of the Earth.

In quick order, we're introduced to Trevor, a university-based scientist about to lose his lab due to an absence of publishable data, and his young nephew, Sean (Josh Hutcherson, from Bridge to Terabithia). Both have holes in their souls, due to the long-ago loss of Max, Trevor's brother and Sean's father. Indeed, Trevor's subsequent career has been an effort to defend the theories of his brother, who went missing a decade ago while on field work.

Now, thanks to fresh seismic activity in a region long believed dormant, Trevor hares off to Iceland, rather irresponsibly allowing Sean to tag along. (Hey, it's that kind of story. Go with the flow.) They meet a gorgeous but impressively resourceful local guide, Hannah (Anita Briem, perhaps recognized as Jane Seymour in TV's The Tudors), who leads them to the site of Trevor's newly actived seismic whatzis.