Mean Girls: Spitefully high-spirited

Mean Girls (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, for sexual candor, profanity and bad teen behavior

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 1.12.24

Confucius said it best, so long ago:

 

“Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves.”

 

While Cady (Angourie Rice, far right) watches apprehensively, her school's "mean girls"
— from left, Karen (Avantika), Regina (Reneé Rapp) and Gretchen (Bebe Wood) —
reveal the "Burn Book," in which they've written all manner of nasty comments about
fellow students.

Unlikely as it seems, this story has become even more relevant today, than it was when scripter Tina Fey’s clever adaptation of Rosalind Wiseman’s 2002 parental guide — Queen Bees and Wannabes — became a popular 2004 film for Lindsay Lohan.

Although it seemed an unlikely choice to transition into a musical, Mean Girls became a Broadway hit upon opening in 2018; Fey wrote the show’s book, accompanied by Jeff Richmond (music) and Nell Benjamin (lyrics). Touring productions continue to this day, and a film adaptation was inevitable; directors Samantha Jayne and Arturo Perez Jr. — with a script once again by Fey — have delivered a thoroughly entertaining two hours of lively razzle-dazzle.

 

(And I have to wonder: Was Fey prescient, two decades back? Did she somehow know that the dark side of social media would make this story fresh again?)

 

All of the original film’s essential plot beats have been retained; many have been re-tooled as energetic production numbers by choreographer Kyle Hanagami.

 

The first is a seemingly spontaneous, home-made garage video by Janis ’Imi’iki (Auli’I Cravalho) and Damian Hubbard (Jaquel Spivey, a force of nature), who function throughout this saga as both characters and a Greek chorus. This opening number, “A Cautionary Tale,” sets the stage for the events to follow. (Pay close attention; their promised details will prove accurate.)

 

The scene then shifts to Kenya, where 16-year-old Cady Heron (Angourie Rice) — despite having thoroughly enjoyed studying animals and stars in the wild, with her mother (Jenna Fischer) — laments her inability to enjoy a “normal” teenage experience. Mom relents, moves them to Evanston, Ill., and Cady eagerly begins her first day at North Shore High School...

 

...and hasn’t the slightest notion how to fit in.

 

A droll montage introduces her various teachers and subjects, most importantly the AP math class taught by Ms. Norbury (Fey, reprising her role from the 2004 film). Cady winds up sitting behind Aaron Samuels (Christopher Briney), and is instantly smitten.

 

Lunchtime is the worst, as Cady slowly walks down the center aisle, silently shunned by the cliques at each table. Janis and Damian — outcasts themselves, and proud of it — take pity and rescue her from social oblivion.

 

Then the air is sucked out of the cafeteria, as queen bee-yatch Regina (Reneé Rapp, deliciously haughty) makes her entrance, joining her already seated posse, Gretchen (Bebe Wood) and Karen (Avantika). They’re “The Plastics,” over-the-top glamour girls with nothing but disdain for the common herd. Regina spots Cady, and — much to everybody’s surprise — invites the new girl to their table.

 

Spider-Man: Far from Home — Sticky situations

Spider-Man: Far from Home (2019) • View trailer 
3.5 stars. Rated PG-13, for sci-fi action violence and mild profanity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 7.5.19

Life goes on, even for superheroes.

Particularly for superheroes.

Having helped defeat a massive elemental monster, Spider-Man (Tom Holland, left) is
gratefully surprised when his assistance is acknowledged with sincere respect by the
more flamboyantly super-heroic Mysterio (Jake Gyllenhaal).

In the wake of early spring’s Avengers: Endgame, fans have been curious about the direction subsequent Marvel Universe films would take. Spider-Man: Far from Home provides some answers, but mostly stands on its own as Tom Holland’s second starring outing in the iconic web-slinging costume (in addition to his co-starring appearances with Captain American and the Avengers).

At its best, the Chris McKenna/Erik Sommers script successfully evokes the geeky, angst-ridden vibe of the early 1960s Stan Lee/Steve Ditko comic books, when Peter Parker was a reluctant costumed hero, and mostly a nerdy, misfit high school teen forever questioning the slightest thought, word or deed. He epitomized the early Marvel archetype: a hero laden with insecurities.

Holland’s Peter Parker isn’t exactly burdened by doubt, nor is he the shy introvert that Lee and Ditko created. This Peter also isn’t completely friendless; he’s blessed by constant support from best bud Ned (Jacob Batalon), and the relationship with his Aunt May (Marisa Tomei) is much more a closeness of equals, than the comic books’ doddering parent/guilty child dynamic.

In this film continuity, both Ned and Aunt May know of Peter’s web-slinging activities, which allows for playful banter.

But Holland’s Peter is flustered in the presence of über-cool, tart-tongued Michelle Jones (Zendaya), the girl he has long worshiped from afar. (She more commonly goes by the initials MJ, evoking fond memories of the comics’ original Mary Jane Watson.) Holland is endearing as he spins increasingly silly scenarios about “the perfect moment” to confess his love for MJ, while Ned shakes his head in disbelief.

As the story begins, everybody in Peter’s high school continues to grapple with the disorienting aftermath of “the blip,” which returned half the world’s population following a five-year absence. Trouble is, that half — including Peter, MJ and Ned — came back at the same age as when they left, whereas those left behind are five years older.

The latter include Peter’s new nemesis, the arrogant Brad (Remy Hii), who has transitioned from a similarly uncool nerd into a heartthrob determined to make MJ his own. The perfect opportunity arises when a small group of students earn a European vacation, under the close (?) supervision of two clueless teachers (Martin Starr and J.B. Smoove, perhaps hitting the dweeb key a little too hard). First stop: Venice.

The Beguiled: Not beguiling enough

The Beguiled (2017) • View trailer 
Three stars. Rated R, and rather harshly, for fleeting sexuality
By Derrick Bang

As a setting, Southern Gothic is a character in its own right: drooping, moss-draped trees enclosing antebellum mansions, their white paint edged with gray and slightly peeling; a keening, high-pitched whine of insects driven into a constant frenzy by shimmering heat; the miasma of humidity so unrelenting that everything — flora, fauna and dwellings — sags beneath a soggy layer of warm moisture, and the mere act of drawing breath is a weary challenge.

Sensing that Edwina (Kirsten Dunst) is self-conscious about her appearance,
McBurney (Colin Farrell) lavishes praise about her features and deportment, knowing
full well that she'll melt under such flattery.

A sense that evil spirits prowl during a night so enveloping that stars and fireflies do little to keep the darkness at bay.

Director/scripter Sofia Coppola’s fresh adaptation of Thomas Cullinan’s The Beguiled certainly wins points for atmosphere. Cinematographer Philippe Le Sourd frames every inch of production designer Anne Ross’ tableaus — interior and exterior — with the reverence of a painter agonizing over each individual brush stroke.

The characters in this unsettling morality play also are well cast, with Nicole Kidman, Kirsten Dunst and Colin Farrell delivering a level of quiet intensity more frequently experienced with a live Broadway performance. Which also feels appropriate, given that the story’s claustrophobic setting could be realized equally well on a theater stage.

Coppola directs her cast with a sure hand, coaxing performances that fascinate just as much for their protracted silences, as for carefully selected snatches of dialog. Kidman, in particular, conveys a wealth of emotion during moments of circumspect silence.

If only Coppola’s script equaled the rest of her film’s carefully assembled elements.

The tale unfolds in 1864, midway through the Civil War, within the confines of the Farnsworth Seminary, a Southern girls’ boarding school nestled deep in the Virginia woods. The institution is run by Miss Martha (Kidman) and her colleague Edwina (Dunst); they share classroom instruction and the daily reading of prayers.

The student population has dwindled to five, all girls with nowhere else to go. Amy (Oona Laurence), Jane (Angourie Rice), Marie (Addison Riecke) and Emily (Emma Howard) are adolescent, vulnerable and trusting; teenage Alicia (Elle Fanning), hastening the onset of a womanhood she has no means of embracing, carries a whiff of temptress about her.

These seven have become a family, Miss Martha just as much a surrogate mother as a formal teacher. The dynamic, with its daily rituals, feels timeless; they may have sheltered in this vast mansion for mere months, or perhaps years. (The action actually takes place at the Louisiana-based Madewood Plantation House, also borrowed by Beyoncé for her “Sorry” music video.)

The Nice Guys: Abominable

The Nice Guys (2016) • View trailer 
One star. Rated R, for violence, sexuality, nudity, drug use and relentless profanity
By Derrick Bang

A few minutes into this film, as we’re getting a sense of scruffy private investigator Holland March (Ryan Gosling), he attempts some late-night breaking and entering by wrapping his hand in a cloth, in order to punch out a glass door pane. He nonetheless slashes his wrist quite badly — the likely result, in real life — and we chuckle as he nearly faints at the sight of his own blood.

Meet Dumb and Dumber: Jackson Healey (Russell Crowe, left) and Holland March (Ryan
Gosling) find themselves enmeshed in a missing-persons case that leaves them baffled.
They should just let Holland's daughter, Holly (Angourie Rice), take over; she's much
smarter than both of them combined.

Somewhat later, a 13-year-old girl gets thrown through a plate-glass window. Miraculously, she survives without even a scratch.

Interesting juxtaposition, donchathink?

It also begs the obvious question: Have we become so callous, as a society, that filmmakers assume we’ll be entertained by the sight of a helpless girl body-slammed through glass?

I’d like to think not, since the blame more properly can be directed at the repulsive schmuck who vomited up this tasteless excuse for big-screen popcorn thrills: director/co-scripter Shane Black.

Black established his Hollywood rep back in 1987, with the deservedly popular Lethal Weapon. Unfortunately, his subsequent action thrillers became dumber, noisier and appallingly mean-spirited, climaxing — at the time — with 1991’s indefensibly dreadful Last Boy Scout. Black unleashed one more bomb with 1996’s The Long Kiss Goodnight, and then wisely dropped out of sight for a decade.

When he resurfaced with 2005’s engaging Kiss Kiss Bang Bang — adapting a Brett Halliday mystery novel, and also making a decent directorial debut — Black appeared to have learned his lesson. The results also were good just a few years ago, when he helmed and co-scripted Iron Man 3.

Based on his newest film, though, Black was just building up enough cred to trick some studio — in this case, Warner Bros. — into letting him regress to his bad ol’ self.

So ... how tasteless is The Nice Guys?

It opens with the nauseating tableau of a horny adolescent boy running to the scene of a car crash, and then staring at the driver — a bloodied porn star, her voluminous breasts exposed — as she slowly dies. Black and cinematographer Philippe Rousselot turn us into unwilling voyeurs as well, by making sure those naked boobs are quite well displayed.

March’s constant companion is his 13-year-old daughter, Holly (Angourie Rice, who deserves so much better than this), who spends the entire film exposed to drugs, naked partygoers, porn flicks, appalling violence and a slew of very, very bad people. She also swears a lot, and employs an impressive string of vulgar sexual euphemisms. All of which are played as laugh lines.