Showing posts with label Liev Schreiber. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Liev Schreiber. Show all posts

Friday, December 5, 2025

Caught Stealing: A third base hit

Caught Stealing (2025) • View trailer
3.5 stars (out of five). Rated R, for strong violence, pervasive profanity, sexuality, nudity and drug use
Available via: Netflix
By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 12.7.25

You’ll never see a better cautionary tale, concerning the wisdom of seat belts.

 

Charlie Huston’s 2004 crime novel is a slight change of pace for director Darren Aronofsky, whose best-known films — Requiem for a Dream, The Wrestler, Black Swan and The Whale — haven’t the slightest trace of humor. But Huston’s scripted adaptation of his book is laden with moments of dark-dark-dark gallows humor, of the sort that makes one feel guilty for each chuckle (not that it’ll suppress the next unexpected giggle).

 

The enemy of my enemy is my friend? When Hank (Austin Butler, center) becomes
sufficiently desperate, he forms an uneasy alliance with Lipa (Liev Schreiber, left)
and Shmully (Vincent D'Onofrio).


That said, this saga involves one Awful Event so beyond the pale, so needlessly mean-spirited, that viewers will be hard-pressed to forgive Huston and Aronofsky.

 

The year is 1998, the setting New York City’s Lower East Side: a time when this neighborhood is at low ebb, with sidewalks and streets strewn with uncollected garbage. Henry “Hank” Thompson (Austin Butler) tends bar at a sorta-kinda dive run by Paul (Griffin Dunne). Amtrak (Action Bronson), a steady customer, constantly ribs Hank about his devotion to the San Francisco Giants. Indeed, Hank calls his mother every day — she lives in Patterson, California — to commiserate or cheer about their mutual passion for the baseball team.

 

Hank has a steady girlfriend, Yvonne (Zoë Kravitz), who works at a nearby hospital.

 

But Hank is damaged goods. He suffers nightmare flashbacks of the vehicular accident, at the tail end of high school, which wrecked his knee, blew his chance at a promising baseball career, and killed his best friend. Hank was entirely at fault, driving drunk. He wore a seat belt; his friend did not.

 

Hank now is a full-blown alcoholic, much to Yvonne’s distress. She wants them to “move to the next level,” but only if Hank can get a handle on his drinking problem.

 

On an otherwise average day, Hank’s rowdy punk neighbor, Russ (Matt Smith, most famously of Doctor Who and The Crown), is summoned to London to see his dying father one last time. He abruptly places his cat, Bud, in Hank’s reluctant care.

 

“He’s a biter,” Russ warns, as he sprints away.

 

Yvonne thinks caring for Bud is a marvelous idea; she even moves the cat’s litter box into Hank’s bathroom … much to his disgust. But it’s obvious, even in these early moments, that Hank and Bud will bond.

 

Yvonne heads to work. Moments later, two thugs show up, searching for Russ. Hank unwisely displays attitude, and gets beaten so badly that he wakens in a hospital, two days later, having lost a kidney. Yvonne warns that now — with only one kidney — he really, truly must stop drinking. 

 

That will be a challenge.

 

Friday, June 23, 2023

Asteroid City: A heaping helping of peculiar

Asteroid City (2023) • View trailer
Three stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, for suggestive material and fleeting nudity
Available via: Movie theaters
By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 7.7.23

Calling filmmaker Wes Anderson “eccentric” is like saying the Pope is slightly Catholic. The word doesn’t begin to convey the vast scope of Anderson’s outré sensibilities.

 

The motel manager (Steve Carell, left) is distracted by another atomic bomb test,
when J.J. Kellogg (Liev Schreiber, right) and his son Clifford (Aristou Meehan) arrive
in Asteroid City.


As one would expect, the results have been mixed. ranging from dazzling hits (The Grand Budapest Hotel, Fantastic Mr. Fox) to, shall we say, lesser efforts (The Darjeeling Limited, The French Dispatch).

But Anderson — a true artiste — remains undaunted, which is just fine; even his bizarre films are interesting … and everything he does is visually fascinating.

 

That’s certainly the case with Asteroid City, which is a dazzling display of architectural whimsy by Anderson, production designer Adam Stockhausen, and the art direction team headed by Stéphane Cressend. I mean, like wow; you’ve never seen so many pastels. They’ve gotta be Oscar-nominated.

 

Whether this colorful setting is supported by an equally compelling story … is another matter. Anderson and co-writer Roman Coppola’s script is, ah, really Out There.

 

The film begins in standard-ratio black and white, as a host (Bryan Cranston) presents the back-story to the newest production by celebrated playwright Conrad Earp (Edward Norton). We subsequently become the “audience,” as a huge cast of actors present the play in three acts (plus an epilogue). These dominant portions of the film are in stylized wide-screen pastels, sumptuously staged by cinematographer Robert D. Yeoman.

 

The actors occasionally break character in between scenes, which adds yet another (often confusing) layer to the story-within-a-story.

 

The year is 1955, the setting Asteroid City, a dot-on-the-map desert community — population 87 — in the American Southwest. The enclave includes a luncheonette, a gas station, a phone booth, an unfinished highway ramp, and a motel comprising a dozen or so cute little bungalows.

 

The city is named for its regional monument: a massive crater created by the grapefruit-size Arid Plains Meteorite, also on display. Small radio telescopes and an observatory can be seen not far away.

 

The occasion is Asteroid Day, a celebration which has gathered five junior scientists and their families; master of ceremonies Gen. Grif Gibson (Jeffrey Wright) acknowledges each teen’s fabulous invention with an award, followed by the presentation of the annual Hickenlooper Scholarship to one of the quintet.

 

Friday, December 14, 2018

Spider-Men: Into the Spider-Verse — A needlessly tangled web

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018) • View trailer 
3.5 stars. Rated PG for frantic animated action violence

By Derrick Bang

In today’s pop-culture entertainment world, you can’t have too much of a good thing.

When Marvel’s initial Amazing Spider-Man comic book becomes a smash success, the next move is obvious: Start publishing another dozen (or two) Spider-Man titles. If this cuts into the sales of the character’s flagship title, no matter; the combined overall sales are bound to increase.

Having barely gotten a sense of the whole web-slinging concept, young Miles discovers
that swinging between city buildings is a lot harder than it looks.
And if Spider-Man himself is a major part of the allure, then the next move is equally obvious: Concoct a storyline that creates more Spider-heroes. Thanks to one of sci-fi’s most overworked clichés — the notion of multiple parallel universes, where things are familiar but (tellingly) not quite the same — that’s a snap.

On top of which, the beauty of alternate realities is that writers can do something drastic — such as kill off a beloved character — without damaging continuity in our “core” reality.

The ultimate means of eating one’s cake, and having it too.

But care must be taken. If the original franchise — and character(s) — are diluted too much, everybody loses interest in the whole enterprise.

In fairness, directors Bob Persichetti, Peter Ramsey and Rodney Rothman have done a mostly commendable job with the animated Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse. Rothman and co-scripter Phil Lord deftly navigate the physics-challenged complexities of the alternate universe premise, while granting a solid origin story to a younger, equally captivating, but woefully inexperienced Spider-Man.

That would be Miles Morales (voiced by Shameik Moore), an Afro-Latino teenager who debuted in a complicated 2011 Marvel Comics storyline, and has remained popular enough to earn his own ongoing series.

But he’s not the character with whom this fast-paced, audaciously twisty saga begins. We’re instead (re)introduced to good ol’ Peter Parker, our one and only Spider-Man, who extols his uniqueness during a narrated prologue that cleverly references previous comic book adventures, along with iconic scenes from the live-action films that began in 2002 (most notably that sexy upside-down smooch with Mary Jane).

Poor Peter has his hands full, because the nefarious Wilson Fisk — better known as the Kingpin (Liev Schreiber) — has teamed up with a theoretical physicist, in order to access the “multiverse” for a deeply personal reason. But Peter is enough of a scientist himself, to know that Fisk’s reality-bending device will have drastic consequences, and therefore must be destroyed.

Friday, November 20, 2015

Spotlight: The Fourth Estate Rules!

Spotlight (2015) • View trailer 
Five stars. Rated R, for profanity

By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 11.20.15


Crusading newspaper journalists have been a cinema staple ever since the Ben Hecht/Charles MacArthur stage play The Front Page first hit the big screen in 1931, but true classics are rare.

The Devil is in the details: Michael (Mark Ruffalo, center) and Sacha (Rachel McAdams)
grow increasingly excited — and horrified — as a fairly simple computer search by Matt
(Brian d'Arcy) reveals that they're likely dealing with far more than just five or six
pedophile priests.
Meet John Doe, The Big Carnival, Deadline USA and Absence of Malice come to mind, and they all have one thing in common: They’re fictitious stories.

Memorable films based on actual reporters who pursued real-world scoops are more scarce, in part because few screenwriters can spin compelling drama from the day-after-grinding-day research slog that precedes a “breaking” news story, which (to the outside world) seems to come out of nowhere. The gold standard in this category remains All the President’s Men, in great part due to screenwriter William Goldman’s superb, Oscar-winning adaptation of the Bob Woodward/Carl Bernstein book.

Goldman now has equally talented company: Tom McCarthy and Josh Singer, who’ve done a masterful job with Spotlight — McCarthy also serving as director — and its depiction of the four Boston Globe reporters who won a 2003 Pulitzer Prize for their astonishing series of stories exposing the long-term cover-up of child abuse by members of the Boston Catholic Church clergy.

As was the case with All the President’s Men, Spotlight isn’t merely an engaging — even suspenseful — drama, fueled by excellent performances from a well-selected ensemble cast; it’s a valuable historical document that details a frankly heinous abuse of trust and power. It’s simultaneously cathartic and horrific: a crisply condensed depiction of an extremely complicated story that expands so far beyond initial expectations, that — were it fiction — it likely wouldn’t be believed.

But it’s not fiction; it’s grim, infuriating and relentlessly heartbreaking fact.

Not to mention another reminder of the significant service performed by newspapers and their dedicated staffs, and the frankly alarming hole we’ll be in, as a country, if the Fourth Estate is allowed to be replaced by the frivolous, empty-calorie content of “web journalism” (an oxymoron if ever one existed).

McCarthy is an actor who burst on the filmmaking scene when he wrote and directed 2003’s The Station Agent, one of the finest, quirkiest dramedies of the new century. Singer has a wealth of TV scripting credits in his still-brief career, notably The West Wing and Fringe, and he made the jump to movies with the 2013 Julian Assange dramatization, The Fifth Estate.

Both McCarthy and Singer have an ear for realistic dialog, and particularly the careful “dance” that takes place during painfully raw and intimate conversations. This film is laden with such scenes — some quite difficult to watch — and all handled masterfully both by the film’s stars, and by lesser cast members appearing perhaps only briefly.

Friday, September 4, 2009

Taking Woodstock: Bummer trip

Taking Woodstock (2009) • View trailer for Taking Woodstock
Three stars (out of five). Rating: R, for profanity, drug use and considerable casual (and chaste) nudity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 9.4.09
Buy DVD: Taking Woodstock• Buy Blu-Ray: Taking Woodstock [Blu-ray]

Demetri Martin's flat and lifeless central performance is the core problem with director Ang Lee's curiously uninvolving adaptation of Taking Woodstock, a saga that we can't help expecting to display more of the exhilarating atmosphere that was central to the famed counter-culture music festival.

But no. Just as Martin's Elliot Teichberg never quite makes it to the festival per se — the stage and its music always just off-camera, over the next hill — Lee never taps into the vibrant energy necessary to tell this story properly. Like Teichberg, who wanders about in a perpetual haze, as if he's already heavily influenced by the pills and other controlled substances he keeps refusing, Lee's film just doesn't catch fire.
Having spent all his time behind the scenes, helping or watching as scores of
individuals orchestrate the chaos that finally results in the three-day Woodstock
festival, Elliot (Demetri Martin, center foreground) finally leaves his family's
dilapidated Catskills motel and heads down the road, hoping to get his own
personal taste of counter-culture joy.

Julie Taymor's crazed, opulent Across the Universe, for all its grotesque excess, did a far better job of capturing the unbridled, 1960s-style joie de vivre that we keep wishing from Lee's film.

In fairness, these expectations are fueled mostly by this film's publicity campaign, which leads patrons to expect a full-immersion bath in the heady waters of sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll ... but that's not really the story Lee sets out to tell.

James Schamus' script, based on the memoir by Elliot Tiber — yes, it's the same person, albeit with a slightly different name — focuses more on the unlikely events that allowed Elliot to turn his small community upside-down, and the impact the resulting chaos had on him personally. At least, that's where the screenplay wants to go, but Martin's performance is so colorless that we never get a sense of growth.

Although firmly planted in Greenwich Village in 1969, working as an interior designer and attempting to embrace his own sexuality via the gay rights movement — but the film leaves this aspect of his life awfully vague — Elliot is forced to return to the Catskills that summer, where his hapless parents are badly mis-managing the family business: a dumpy motel laughingly dubbed the El Monaco. The local bank is threatening to foreclose, but Elliot successfully wins a brief stay of execution.

One cannot imagine a worse choice of parental career, because Jake and Sonia (Henry Goodman and Imelda Staunton) haven't the faintest trace of people skills. Sonia, in particular, is a blustering, overbearing, ill-kempt cross between a dock worker and a water buffalo: a rude, waspish misanthrope in whom the milk of human kindness must have curdled decades earlier.

Staunton, it must be acknowledged, tears into this role for all she's worth. God forbid you should request an extra towel for your room.

Friday, May 1, 2009

Wolverine: Feral fun

Wolverine (2009) • View trailer for Wolverine
3.5 stars (out of five). Rating: PG-13, for considerable action violence and fleeting nudity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 5.1.09
Buy DVD: Wolverine • Buy Blu-Ray: X-Men Origins: Wolverine (Two-Disc Edition + Digital Copy) [Blu-ray]


Some films have teeth. This one has claws.

Whether by design or sheer luck, the X-Men films have been among the more successful of their genre, in terms of the delicate balance between telling a solid dramatic story and providing the explosive action demanded by longtime fans of these comic book characters. While perhaps not as lofty and psychologically layered as The Dark Knight or Spider-Man 2, the X-Men entries have been leagues above disappointing misfires such as Daredevil and both Fantastic Four efforts.
Having emerged unscathed after death by firing squad -- that mutant "healing
factor," donchaknow -- Victor (Liev Schreiber, left) and Logan (Hugh Jackman,
center) entertain a somewhat sinister but nonetheless inviting offer made by
Col. Stryker (Danny Huston), who we're certain is up to no good. Whatever
the result, it'll be bad news for Logan.

X-Men Origins: Wolverine, while rather predictable, is no exception.

Fueled both by Gavin Hood's muscular direction and an all-stops-out performance from star Hugh Jackman, Wolverine establishes a credible back-story for one of the most popular characters in the Marvel Comics universe. Scripters David Benioff and Skip Woods conform to essential comic book details while adding some reasonable grace notes of their own, and wrap up the title character's considerable angst with generous helpings of snarling ass-whupping.

His silly name and wildly improbable powers notwithstanding, Wolverine has long been one of Marvel's great tragic figures, right up there with Bruce Banner and the Hulk. As a result, fans will not be surprised to discover that Wolverine's origins involve plenty of grim tidings.

Hood displays his directorial chops right out of the gate, with a stylish prologue that economically illustrates Wolverine's 19th century background and reveals the man's ageless qualities during a montage that places him in the fury of first the Civil War, then World Wars I and II, and finally even action in Vietnam. His value as a soldier is obvious; aside from his great strength and primal fury, Logan — as he is known in civilian life — possesses a "healing factor" that makes him all but indestructible.

Logan does not make this unusual journey alone; he lives through the ages with older brother Victor (Liev Schreiber), born with all the same superheroic talents.

Albeit with a slight difference: Logan has claws of bone that erupt from between his knuckles, whereas Victor's fingernails can lengthen into equally lethal claws. Both men tend to lose themselves to blood-lust.

But as the decades pass, Logan somehow retains and even reinforces his hold on humanity, and remains protective of innocent civilians. Victor, in great contrast, grows to enjoy killing for its own sake, and becomes ever more like the feral beast — Sabretooth — that becomes his nickname.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Defiance: Fighting back

Defiance (2008) • View trailer for Defiance
3.5 stars (out of five). Rating: R, for war violence and profanity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 1.22.09
Buy DVD: Defiance • Buy Blu-Ray: Defiance [Blu-ray]

Daniel Craig's steely gaze, given more intensity by his impossibly blue eyes, often snatches the focus from the grim events depicted in Defiance.

Director Edward Zwick (Glory, Blood Diamond) obviously recognizes the power of Craig's noteworthy feature; the camera certainly cuts to the man's eyes often enough. Maybe too often: It's one of a few "movie star hiccups" that occasionally pulls us out of the otherwise fascinating story being told in this WWII drama.
Although believing that their forest encampment is sufficiently concealed, Nazi
planes spot them anyway, forcing Tuvia Bielski (Daniel Craig, center) to help
his many Jewish followers flee from a rain of bombs. Unfortunately, the
bombers are but one aspect of a campaign to flush all these people out into the
open, where infantry can cut them down...

2008 was a rich year for Nazi and Holocaust dramas, particularly because most delved into events and psychological readings never before brought to the big screen. As I mentioned when reviewing director Stefan Ruzowitsky's The Counterfeiter last spring, I remain fascinated by the number of compelling "new" stories — not really new at all, of course; merely unheralded until now — that continue to emerge from that most horrible time in German/European history.

Defiance is no different. Zwick and co-scripter Clay Frohman, working from events recounted in Nechama Tec's nonfiction book of the same title, eschew the usual cliché of Jews as complacent victims waiting in ghettos and death camps, to focus instead on a group of resourceful Eastern European civilians who fought back: courageously, cleverly and for the duration of the war.

It's the saga of largely unsung heroes Tuvia (Craig) and Zus (Liev Schreiber) Bielski, who grew up with younger brother Asael (Jamie Bell) on a family farm in Stankevich, in what now is Belarus but in the 1940s — by which time all three were adults — was part of the Soviet empire. Tuvia and Zus, both imposing and charismatic, were known as troublemakers with an aversion to authority.

They therefore were targeted for quick execution when the Nazis invaded in June 1941. But while the German SS and collaborating Stankevich police killed the Bielskis' parents and other family members — including Tuvia's wife and their infant daughter — all three brothers escaped to the local woods, a vast, thickly overgrown area they had known since childhood.

Determined at first to form a partisan group to fight the Nazi occupation, Tuvia and Zus instead wound up gathering any and all fleeing Jews into their ever-expanding encampment. With Tuvia as leader, the group embraced the commitment to save as many Jews as possible: men, women, children, elders ... everybody.

And here's the amazing part: Until the publication of Frohman's book, nobody knew much of anything about the Bielskis or the astonishing degree to which their ambitious plan succeeded.