Normal Far from it (in a deliciously ghastly way)

Normal (2025) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five); rated R, for profanity and relentless strong, bloody violence

Available via: HBO MAX and other VOD options

By Derrick Bang

Paul Newman went through a period, for several years following 1961’s The Hustler, when superstition apparently prompted him to insist that several subsequent anti-hero single-word films begin with the letter “H,” in some cases prompting script character name changes: Hud, Harper and Hombre.

 

Confronted by unexpectedly overwhelming odds, Keith (Brendan Fletcher, left) Sheriff
Ulysses (Bob Odenkirk) and Lori (Reena Jolly) become unusual allies.

Bob Odenkirk seems to be doing the same with his second-career emergence as a “regular, down-home guy turned reluctant avenger,” first in Nobody, and now in this one. One wonders what’ll be next ... Nowhere? Nevermore? Naturally?

(Okay, in fairness, his family guy in Nobody and its sequel wasn’t that ordinary. But still...)

 

Odenkirk stars as Ulysses (no last name given), hired as a temporary substitute sheriff in the quaint little township of Normal, Minnesota. It’s a sleepy community, looking very much like a throwback to 1950s Americana, with an entryway city sign that reads “We like it here.”

 

Ulysses has greeted this temporary assignment as a welcome respite from both marital woes and severe moral trauma suffered during the line of duty. He’s scheduled to be in Normal for just eight weeks, as an emergency stand-in for former Sheriff Gunderston (Pat Harris), who died unexpectedly ... under, as Ulysses soon discovers, rather unusual circumstances.

 

But that isn’t his problem. As he and Deputy Mike Nelson (Billy MacLellan) cruise Normal’s downtown streets, Ulysses expresses his desire — via voice-over, and (later) unanswered phone calls to his estranged wife, Penny — to leave the town exactly as he found it. He views himself as a “midwife with a gun,” merely helping a transition.

 

He meets glad-handing Mayor Kibner (Henry Winkler); local doctor/coroner Walter Vilie (David Lawrence Brown); yarn and craft shop owner Mary Beth (Megan MacArton); hardware store owner Maynard (Carson Nattrass); bar owner Moira (Lena Headey, still well remembered as Cersei Lannister, on Game of Thrones); cheerful sheriff’s office receptionist Sally Johnson (Lauren Cochrane); and co-Deputy Blaine Anderson (Ryan Allen), who eagerly anticipates being elected permanent sheriff.

 

Everybody treats Ulysses kindly, but with an odd touch of amusement or even condescension.

 

But this isn’t actually where the film begins. A brief prologue, set in Osaka, introduces a powerful and vicious Yakuza boss (Takahiro Inoue, as The Oyabun) who — during an early sign of the carnage to come — enforces a rather grisly ritual to determine which of his men will be dispatched for “a job” in Minnesota. 

 

(Guess where.)

Maudie: Portrait of an unlikely artist

Maudie (2016) • View trailer 
Four stars. Rated PG-13, for dramatic intensity and brief sexuality
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 7.14.17

Film, despite the potential of its myriad elements, rarely delivers the intensity of a powerful stage performance.

Everett (Ethan Hawke) can't understand why Maudie (Sally Hawkins) puts so much
painstaking — and painful — effort into her delicate watercolor paintings. As far as he's
concerned, they only interfere with her primary purpose: to feed him on time.

There’s something electrifying about being in the presence of a truly charismatic actor: one who slides wholly into a role with an authoritative snap that crushes any thought of looking elsewhere. Every move, gesture and sentence are riveting; we’re simply spellbound.

You don’t very often get that from a film performance.

Here’s one.

Sally Hawkins’ title role in Maudie is the stuff of cinematic legend: not merely a role that should bring her an Academy Award, but one destined to be remembered for a long, long time. It’s a delicately crafted, sensitively delivered characterization that transcends the term “acting,” and becomes something truly wondrous.

That said, this Canadian/Irish co-production doesn’t make it easy on Stateside viewers unfamiliar with Maud Lewis, a humble 20th century Nova Scotia woman who — unexpectedly, astonishingly — became one of Canada’s most famous folk artists. Director Aisling Walsh and scripter Sherry White dump us — without title credits, preamble or any sort of back-story — into the drab, day-to-day frustration of Maudie’s thirtysomething routine.

It’s the mid-1930s. Maudie lives with her Aunt Ida (Gabrielle Rose) in the tiny community of Digby: a “kept” existence arranged by her condescending brother Charles (Zachary Bennett), her only sibling. He calls her “Sister,” unwilling to grant her even the small dignity of her own name. Both their parents are dead; Charles arrives one morning to inform Maudie that he has sold the family home — without bothering to consult her — to settle outstanding debts.

He dumps her meager belongings, including a set of paintbrushes, and departs. Hastily.

He’s ashamed and embarrassed by her, and believes that she cannot care for herself. Maudie suffers the debilitating after-effects of childhood rheumatoid arthritis, which has left her body wracked with pain and twisted at odd angles.