The Odyssey: An epic masterpiece

The Odyssey (2026) • View trailer

Five stars (out of five); rated R, for violence, gore, dramatic intensity and profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 7.19.26

Not many screenwriters get to share a credit with Homer.

 

And Christopher Nolan is one of very few directors up to the challenge of the ancient Greek poet’s classic work.

 

Warriors three: Odysseus (Matt Damon, center), Cepheus (Jimmy Gonzales, left) and
Eurylochus (Himesh Patel) survey what's left of Troy, following their successful
siege of the city.

This is epic filmmaking on a truly grand scale, which is the only way to present a saga that has it all: gods and goddesses, men and monsters, full-scale battles, perilous sea voyages, and dastardly palace intrigue. Granted, Nolan skips some events, and minimizes the list of involved deities, but only scholars intimately familiar with Homer’s fabled poem will notice.

Nolan wisely holds our attention, during this three-hour masterpiece, by alternating the “money sequences” with quieter, even melancholy moments between primary characters. Indeed, judging by how Monday evening’s sold-out Sacramento crowd reacted, viewers were much more invested in what would become of Odysseus’ kingdom, during his absence, than with what he faced while struggling to return home.

 

Be prepared for a challenging initial character dump.

 

Nolan follows Homer’s template, opening the story in medias res — in the plot’s chronological middle — and then supplying What Came Before via flashbacks recounted by Odysseus and a few other key players.

 

Tensions are high in Ithaca, where 20 years have passed since King Odysseus (Matt Damon) and his men joined Agamemnon (Benny Safdie) in his army’s successful invasion of the city of Troy. During this time, Odysseus’ wife, Penelope (Anne Hathaway), has endured a palace invasion by an ever-expanding number of boorish suitors hoping to become her new husband.

 

She has held them at bay by promising to remarry when she finishes weaving a shroud for Odysseus’ aged father, Laertes ... but she secretly unweaves each day’s progress at night.

 

(And she has gotten away with this for 20 years? That doth raise an eyebrow or two.)

 

The suitors have remained at bay, in part, because Odysseus’ renown, skill and might leave a massive shadow, even in his absence. During one flashback, we see that he’s the only man able to string his bow, inevitably following that up with his favorite party trick: shooting an arrow through a series of bundled axe heads.

 

Odysseus and Penelope’s son, Telemachus (Tom Holland), has come of age during this time. But he’s more eager to find his father — or, at least, to learn if he’s alive — than challenging his mother for the throne.

 

But one of the suitors, Antinous (Robert Pattinson), has grown tired of waiting. His vile nature emerges early on, when he grossly insults Eumaeus (John Leguizamo), Odysseus’ loyal, loquacious friend and swineherd. Although now blind, Eumaeus still is able to tell the young man what he’s doing wrong during a swordplay training session. Leguizamo exudes honor, honestly and loyalty.

 

Worse yet, Antinous contemptuously abuses Argus, Odysseus’ faithful and now quite aged dog. Pattinson oozes smarmy menace, with a scowl to match. (Do we hate Antinous? You betcha.)

 

Such behavior violates what becomes a crucial theme, as these events proceed: Zeus’ Law, the “guest friendship” decree that decrees how hosts should and should not act, and requires them to treat all guests with respect.

Apex: Fails to summit

Apex (2026) • View trailer

Two stars (out of five); rated R, for strong violence, grisly images, nudity and profanity

Available via: Netflix

By Derrick Bang

Richard Connell has a lot to answer for.

 

Variations of his iconic 1924 Colliers magazine short story, “The Most Dangerous Game,” have littered television and movie screens ever since the first official Hollywood adaptation in 1932, which featured Joel McCrea, Leslie Banks and Fay Wray.

 

Ben (Taron Egerton) cheerfully shows Sasha (Charlize Theron) the best way to begin
her kayaking journey, offering two possible starting points on her map.

Director Baltasar Kormákur’s newest spin offers little, aside from 50-year-old Charlize Theron’s undeniably impressive physical prowess. Jeremy Robbins’ script begins reasonably well, but then turns gruesomely tasteless and grisly in the second act, and spins off into Cloud Cuckoo Land during the ludicrous climax.

We meet Sasha (Theron) and longtime companion Tommy (Eric Bana) toward the end of their ascent up the steep face of Norway’s imposing Troll Wall, rising above the Romsdalen Valley: a defying-the-elements challenge they’ve obviously done often, on this natural wonder and many others. Their characters are sketched economically but sufficiently; she’s headstrong and impatient, while he’s the voice of reason.

 

A final overhang repeatedly defeats her — as Lawrence Sher’s cinematography induces extreme vertigo — and then the weather turns against them. 

 

“Luck is like anything else you take up a mountain,” Tommy sagely comments. “Eventually, it’ll run out.”

 

They accept defeat and begin to descend; the subsequent crisis is inevitable.

 

Five months later, Sasha travels to Australia’s (fictitious) Wandarra National Park. Her goal: a head-clearing, soul-cleansing whitewater kayaking journey down a lengthy, tempestuous river laden with rapids and falls (most scenes filmed along New South Wales’ majestic Woronora River).

 

Leonard Cohen’s “Boogie Street” plays behind this montage, up to the point Sasha checks in with an affable park ranger (Aaron Pedersen). He cautions that it’s rough country; quite a few people have disappeared, evidenced by a bulletin board laden with dozens of “Missing” notices and photos.

 

She next stops for supplies at a convenience store, where two loutish, good-’ol-boy hunters (Matt Whelan and Rob Carlton) get in her face. She calmly ignores their boorish behavior. The more genial Ben (Taron Egerton), dropping off some of his homemade meat jerky, apologizes for his gender. She insists that isn’t necessary, but nonetheless thanks him for the kindness.

 

They chat a bit; she asks for map directions to her destination. He offers a choice: the “easy way,” or the “hard way.” Naturally, the latter intrigues her more.

 

The first day passes without incident, as Sasha deftly kayaks down the often raging river. The location is wild, awesome and exhilarating; Sher’s camera work and Sigurður Eyþórsson’s rat-a-tat editing enhance the thrills. As the sun drops, exhausted but obviously happy, Sasha sets up camp and sleeps well.

 

The next morning, some of her stuff is missing.

Fast X: Over-revved lunacy

Fast X (2023) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, for intense action violence and mild profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 5.19.23

This series has long verged on becoming a live-action cartoon, and the newest installment definitely crosses that line.

 

Physics, vehicular stamina and the frailty of the human body aren’t even an afterthought in director Louis Leterrier’s tenth (!) entry in this hard-charging franchise, but I’ll say this: He’s definitely the man for the job, having long ago helmed 2002’s enormously entertaining The Transporter and its 2005 sequel.

 

Confronted by a massive, spherical bomb rolling its way through the streets of Rome —
target: The Vatican — Dom and his comrades desperately try to re-route the threat.

This turbo-charged Fast escapade also gets plenty of momentum from a dog-nuts script by Dan Mazeau and Justin Lin, along with rat-a-tat editing by Dylan Highsmith and Kelly Matsumoto.

As an added bonus, Jason Momoa is a memorably and thoroughly reprehensible villain: a deranged, giggling sociopath prone to outré outfits and a mincing manner that make him even scarier. If he were granted a Snidely Whiplash mustache, I’m sure he’d twirl it with glee.

 

The story opens with a cleverly tweaked flashback to a key event in 2011’s Fast Five, as Dom (Vin Diesel) and his crew steal a massive bank vault laden with $100 million belonging to drug kingpin Herman Reyes (Joaquim de Almeida). Our heroes subsequently drag the vault through the streets of Rio de Janeiro, laying waste to everything in its path, until the audacious climax on the Teodoro Moscosco Bridge.

 

In this “adjusted” version of events, Reyes perishes on the bridge: a demise witnessed by his violently unbalanced adult son, Dante (Momoa), who barely survives.

 

(This sequence also allows us to spend a few minutes with the late Paul Walker’s Brian O’Connor, which is a nice — and respectful — touch.)

 

As things kick into gear in the present day, Dante — who has spent the intervening 12 years plotting revenge — orchestrates the first in an increasingly lethal series of attacks on everybody Dom holds dear. The goal is not to killDom — at least, not immediately — but to make him suffer the deaths of his friends and family, most particularly main squeeze Letty (Michelle Rodriguez) and their 8-year-old son, Little Brian (Leo Abelo Perry).

 

Meanwhile, Tej (Ludacris), Ramsey (Nathalie Emmanuel), Han (Sung Kang) and Roman (Tyrese Gibson) jet off to Rome, to handle a heist assigned by the clandestine U.S. government “Agency” that runs off-the-books operations, and until recently has been headed by the equally mysterious “Mr. Nobody” (Kurt Russell).

 

Back home in Los Angeles, Dom and Letty get an unexpected visitor: a badly wounded Cipher (Charlize Theron), the über-nasty who bedeviled our heroes in the series’ previous two installments, most notoriously when she killed Diplomatic Security Service Agent Elena (Elsa Pataky) while Dom watched. 

 

Letty would just as soon put a bullet between Cipher’s eyes, but the latter has just barely survived her own unpleasant encounter with Dante. In a nod to the old mantra — “The enemy of my enemy is my friend” — an uneasy truce is struck.

The Addams Family 2: Insufficiently ookie

The Addams Family 2 (2021) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated PG, for macabre and rude humor

Available via: Movie theaters and streaming services

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 10.01.21

I sometimes wonder what Charles Addams would think, about how his macabre characters have been re-invented in the 21st century.

 

Morticia and Gomez, center, are horrified by what their son Pugsley has done to one
of our nation's natural wonders; daughter Wednesday is simply bored.

According to his official biographer, Linda H. Davis, he was “up and down” about the 1960s TV sitcom; he “enjoyed what it did for his earning power, but said the characters were ‘half as evil.’ ”

Bearing that in mind, regardless of his reaction to this New Age-style animation, he’d likely be unhappy over the way parents Gomez and Morticia — in particular — have been softened in this sequel. There’s scarcely an evil glance between them, let alone any sort of malevolent behavior. Indeed, Gomez (voiced by Oscar Isaac) spends the entire film fretting over the fact that daughter Wednesday (Chloë Grace Moretz) has adopted the aloofness of teenagehood, and prefers to be left alone.

 

Morticia (Charlize Theron) insists this is just a phase, but Gomez feels that desperate measures must be taken. His solution: a road trip across the United States, so the family can wreak all manner of havoc at — in sequence — Niagara Falls, Sleepy Hollow (an apt choice), Miami, San Antonio, the Alamo, the Grand Canyon, Death Valley and — of all places — Sausalito.

 

Ergo, poor Lurch (Conrad Vernon) must haul a mountain of luggage into the family’s haunted camper, and — with Uncle Fester (Nick Kroll) also crammed inside — they take off to see the country.

 

Wednesday’s younger brother Pugsley (Javon Walton) still loves to blow up stuff, and his expression — at least — often radiates wicked glee. And, yes; Wednesday’s arcane experiments, stylized weapons and booby traps often are at poor Pugsley’s expense; she loves to torture him, and (of course) he enjoys it.

 

Wednesday’s stoic somberness, in both animated expression and Moretz’s voice, is the film’s best running gag; she remains impassive no matter what manner of mayhem erupts around her (which she often generates).

F9, The Fast Saga: Blown head gasket

F9 (2021) • View trailer

1.5 stars. Rated PG-13, and rather generously, for relentless violence and occasional profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 6.25.21

Despite his popular presence in this series’ previous five entries, I note that Dwayne Johnson chose not return for this one.

 

Smart move.

 

No matter how much absurd punishment his car takes, Dom (Vin Diesel) always
manages to retain control. Letty (Michelle Rodriguez) counts on it.

And despite the otherwise welcome return of director Justin Lin — who helmed installments three through six — this newest Fast & Furious entry is yet another example of dumb, tedious, wretched excess (as also was the case with 2019’s Hobbs & Shaw). The idiotic script cobbled together by Lin and his co-writers — Daniel Casey and Alfredo Botello — overwhelms its one smart move with an increasingly ridiculous series of action sequences.

 

The smart move: Granting main man Dominic Toretto (Vin Diesel) a race track-hued origin story involving his tempestuous relationship with a hitherto unrevealed younger brother. Poor, put-upon Dom always gets the lion’s share of angst in these flicks, and Diesel excels at displays of anguish that slowly morph into tightly bottled fury, and then explode into uncontrolled rage.

 

Unfortunately, such moments of actual humanity are few and far between, overwhelmed by the efforts of visual effects supervisor Peter Chiang’s team. Nothing feels the slightest bit real in the resulting vehicular and mano a mano mayhem, which too frequently looks blatantly, howlingly fake. 

 

The nadir? The point at which this cacophonous mess goes way, way beyond jumping the shark? The point at which even Tuesday evening’s eager theater audience succumbed to disgusted jeers?

 

The moment when a 1984 Pontiac Fiero gets blasted into space — with two of our heroes aboard, in vintage, duct-taped bathysphere suits — courtesy of rocket boosters.

 

This waste of celluloid — which clocks in at a butt-numbing, self-indulgent 145 minutes — isn’t a film, it’s a clanging pinball machine. With about that much emotional impact.

 

So:

 

Ongoing mega-villainess Cipher (Charlize Theron), finally captured by CIA mastermind Mr. Nobody (Kurt Russell), manages an improbable escape with the assistance of flamboyant aspiring autocrat Otto (Thue Ersted Rasmussen). These events occur elsewhere, while we eavesdrop on Letty (Michelle Rodriguez) and Dom, living a quiet life off-grid while raising the latter’s young son, Little Brian (distinguished from “big” Brian, referencing the character played by the late Paul Walker).

 

The Old Guard: New take on a familiar concept

The Old Guard (2020) • View trailer 
3.5 stars. Rated R, for profanity and graphic violence
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 7.24.20

Immortality isn’t as cool as some folks likely assume.

Popular comic book writer Greg Rucka provocatively blended that premise with conventional action-hero thrills in the 2017 series The Old Guard, with artwork by Leandro Fernandez; the graphic novel immediately attracted Hollywood’s attention, with a well-cast Charlize Theron adding another notch to her re-invention as a bad-ass mercenary type.

Although Andy (Charlize Theron, center right) does her best to explain the abilities that
she shares with the much younger Nile (KiKi Layne), the latter isn't interested in playing
nice: a rather foolish attitude, while in a transport plane being flown by a Russian
drug smuggler.

Gina Prince-Bythewood was an unlikely but ultimately just-right choice as director, having previously helmed gentler fare such as Love & Basketball and The Secret Life of Bees. As a result, her approach here is much more character-driven than the soulless slugfests that distinguish most action thrillers. We care about these folks: far more than you’d expect, given the far-fetched premise. They’re well sculpted, and equally well played.

Prince-Bythewood, editor Terilyn A. Shropshire and their stunt/fight coordinators — Brycen Counts, Adam Kirley and Danny Hernandez — also choreograph some furious skirmishes.

The film — debuting on Netflix — is quite faithful to its origins; credit for that goes to Rucka, who wrote his own script adaptation. Fans of the original series will note that he made one significant change, as we slide into the action-laden climax; this new element significantly enhances the pathos of Theron’s performance.

It’s actually a shame that all previews — and media publicity — reveal the immortality angle, because that awareness spoils the jolt of surprise unknowing viewers otherwise would receive, when this detail is revealed midway through the first act.

Andy (Theron) heads a quartet of independent mercenaries who’ve devoted their lives to righting wrongs, saving innocents, executing war-mongers and so forth. They’ve always chosen their assignments carefully; they’re definitely “good guys,” even as they act as judge, jury and executioner.

The team includes Booker (Matthias Schoenaerts), who liaises with entities looking to hire them; and Joe (Marwan Kenzari) and Nicky (Luca Marinelli), passionately devoted lovers. All four are impressively capable warriors, and no wonder; they’ve been around for a long time.

Joe and Nicky met while fighting on opposite sides during the Crusades; Booker was a French soldier during the Napoleonic era.

Andy — actually Andromache of Scythia — is thousands of years old.

Bombshell: Provocatively outFoxed

Bombshell (2019) • View trailer 
Four stars. Rated R, for profanity and (often unpleasant) sexual candor
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 1.3.20

It’s hard to be completely satisfied, when a disgraced sexual predator departs his high-profile corporate job with an eight-figure severance package.

Despite her ongoing spat with Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump having
become very public, Fox News anchor Megyn Kelly (Charlize Theron) is assured by
boss Roger Ailes (John Lithgow) that he still has her back.

Director Jay Roach’s new film, a scorching slice of recent history, depicts Fox News Chairman and CEO Roger Ailes’ fall from grace, following the brave revolt of numerous female employees who finally said enough is too much.

The frequently snarky script comes from Charles Randolph, who adopts an approach similar to that he took with his Academy Award-winning screenplay for 2015’s The Big Short. Thus, these events unfold against ongoing break-the-fourth-wall narration from Charlize Theron’s Megyn Kelly, who frequently addresses us viewers directly, in order to offer essential back-story. The resulting tone shifts wildly from dark humor to painful intimacy; we chuckle ruefully one moment, recoil in aghast consternation the next.

Stars Theron, Nicole Kidman and Margot Robbie are backed by equally compelling performances from a wealth of supporting players, some seen only fleetingly but no less memorably (as with Malcolm McDowell’s fleeting appearance as Rupert Murdoch). Theron and Kidman play real-world Fox News anchors Megyn Kelly and Gretchen Carlson; Robbie’s Kayla Pospisil is a composite character drawn from Ailes’ lesser-profile victims.

No surprise, then — since Pospisil is constructed for maximum dramatic impact — that Robbie has both of the film’s standout acting moments.

But they come later. Our introductory crash course in Fox News-style “journalism” comes from Kelly, when she trots us through the bullpen and newsroom, her observations peppered with deliciously acerbic remarks. Theron’s wholly immersive transformation is frankly startling; makeup designer Kazu Hiro and costume designer Colleen Atwood — both Oscar winners — have essentially turned their star into Kelly. Theron completes the illusion by flawlessly replicating Kelly’s walk, stance and manner of speech.

The first act is dominated by Kelly’s unexpected feud with then-Republican presidential contender Donald Trump, in the summer of 2015: a headline-generated spat that climaxed with the latter’s tasteless accusation that the Fox News host had “blood coming out of her wherever” during the early August Republican candidates’ debate. Conscious of not wanting to “become the story,” Kelly absents herself for a bit, with Ailes’ support.

John Lithgow, barely recognized beneath the makeup and padding required to convey Ailes’ massive weight, is almost fatherly and sympathetic here … but that’s part of the man’s two-faced abuse of power. Given that Lithgow is an inherently sympathetic actor, it’s easy to think of Ailes benevolently, in these early scenes.

The Addams Family: Appropriately ookie and spooky

The Addams Family (2019) • View trailer 
3.5 stars. Rated PG, for macabre and suggestive humor
By Derrick Bang

This new Addams Family film definitely catches the vibe that cartoonist Charles Addams established so well, during a run that lasted from 1938 to his death in ’88.

Then again … not entirely.

Newly arrived in the postcard-perfect community that has been built in the lowland beneath
their dilapidated hilltop mansion, the Addams Family — from left, Morticia, Wednesday,
Gomez, Pugsley and Uncle Fester — prepare to greet their neighbors in their own
inimitable fashion.

These animated Addamses certainlylookright; directors Greg Tiernan and Conrad Vernon have faithfully followed the character template established within so many magazine covers and single-panel New Yorker cartoons. The resulting film moves along at a brisk, gag-laden clip; Tiernan, Vernon and editors Kevin Pavlovic and David Ian Salter pack their 87-minute romp with plenty of entertainment. I’ve no doubt today’s audiences will find it gleeful good fun.

And yet … scripters Matt Lieberman, Pamela Pettler and Erica Rivinoja have made a major change that would have prompted a frown from dear ol’ Charles, were he still with us. His cartoons always derived their humor from what dire deed was about to take place, generally executed by the gleefully macabre children, Wednesday and Pugsley; our imaginations filled in what would happen in the next few seconds, thereby making us collaborators in the punch line.

This film, in great contrast, too frequently completes the gag: often at the expense of poor Uncle Fester. Wednesday’s casually aimed arrows repeatedly penetrate his flesh, in a manner more reminiscent of Kenny’s recurring deaths, in television’s South Park. Many would excuse this as the dictates of modern humor, but I lament the absence of subtlety … particularly because subtlety — even if gruesome — was Charles Addams’ forté.

But times change, and it’s not really fair to judge this film by standards dated by more than half a century. Particularly because Lieberman, Pettler and Rivinoja have concocted a story quite decidedly Addams-esque, while taking a few cheeky digs at contemporary real-world behavior. 

It’s impossible to make too much fun of the narcissistic social media generation. On top of which, this film takes some perceptive shots at the gullibility of small-minded adults too easily swayed by libelous tweets and emails (a message likely overlooked by guilty parties who’d never, for a moment, think they behaved like that).

A brief prologue follows the nuptials that unite Gomez (voiced by Oscar Isaac) and Morticia (Charlize Theron) in unholy matrimony, after which they and all their bizarre friends and relations are driven away by angry/terrified “normal” townsfolk. Gomez and Morticia wind up at a mansion-esque, long-deserted asylum that comes with a vengeful resident ghost and hulking, shambling lunatic; the latter becomes their butler, Lurch (Vernon), when they turn this “perfect” estate into a happy home.

Long Shot: Genuinely unlikely

Long Shot (2019) • View trailer 
Two stars. Rated R, for strong sexual content, drug use and relentless profanity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 5.3.19

An engaging premise — with some shrewd topical jabs at our real-world political dysfunction — beats within the heart of this fitfully entertaining romantic comedy.

As proximity encourages increasingly intimate contact, Fred (Seth Rogen) finds his
childhood dream coming true, as Charlotte (Charlize Theron) begins to share his
romantic feelings.

Too bad the charm is so frequently buried beneath vulgarity, relentless profanity and jaw-droppingly lunatic bursts of physical slapstick.

It’s a shame, because — absent such wretched excess — scripters Liz Hannah and Dan Sterling could’ve had a keenly observed little parable. 

Instead, in the hands of apathetic director Jonathan Levine — who most recently gave us 2017’s Amy Schumer/Goldie Hawn train wreck, Snatched — we have yet another failure that tries to satisfy wildly divergent target audiences, and succeeds at neither.

Not that it’s entirely Levine’s fault. Plenty of blame also falls on his frequent acting collaborator, the forever unrestrained Seth Rogen, who rarely misses the opportunity to ruin a scene with his own inimitable brand of overkill. This overly protracted 125-minute disappointment could be a much more manageable 100 minutes, if Levine and editors Melissa Bretherton and Evan Henke were more disciplined about not holding the camera, while Rogen mugs and mumbles interminably.

He simply isn’t as funny as he believes.

Nor does he possess one-tenth of the sharp, savvy comic timing of co-star O’Shea Jackson Jr., who rocks every one of his (lamentably) too few scenes.

Rogen stars as Fred Flarsky, a hot-headed, otherwise talented journalist who frequently sabotages his own sharp commentary by succumbing to a strident tone and raging, ultra-left-wing sensibilities that leave no room for negotiation. He’s his own worst enemy; when his beloved alternative newspaper is absorbed into a conglomerate run by international media mogul Parker Wembley (Andy Serkis), Fred quits in a huff, rather than allow himself to be laid off by a sympathetic editor, thereby retaining unemployment benefits.

Any resemblance between Wembley and Rupert Murdoch is purely intentional. But as is typical of their feeble script, Hannah and Sterling don’t give Serkis enough material with which to make this under-written parody really sizzle. Apparently, we’re supposed to be sufficiently impressed by the make-up work. (Not hardly.)

Tully: We all need this kind of care

Tully (2018) • View trailer 
Four stars. Rated R, for profanity and sexual candor
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 5.4.18

Pedigree does count for something. 

It’s gratifying to recall being charmed when filmmakers previously collaborated, and to have expectations met while enjoying their next project.

Tully (Mackenzie Davis, left) watches with unconcealed warmth — and pleasure — as the
happily rested Margo (Charlize Theron) nurses her newborn daughter.

Director Jason Reitman and scripter Diablo Cody first teamed for 2007’s Juno, which was no less than a pop-culture revelation: her debut screenplay — and a well-deserved Academy Award winner — and only his second big-screen feature. Not bad, for new kids on the block.

Juno profiled an endearingly free-spirited young woman, as she contemplated how best to handle an unplanned pregnancy. In a sense, Reitman and Cody have re-visited that scenario with Tully, an often awkwardly intimate study of a middle-aged woman — already a mother of two — wondering how she’ll survive an unplanned third pregnancy.

Charlize Theron is sublime as Margo, a full-time mother already stretched to the limit while juggling the demands of a full-time job and the parenting needs of 8-year-old Sarah (the utterly adorable Lia Frankland) and 5-year-old Jonah (Asher Miles Fallica). The latter is a special-needs child prone to distressing outbursts, particularly when his routine is interrupted by something as trivial as where his mother parks while dropping them off at school.

The film opens on a tender daily routine between mother and son, as Margo gently “grooms” Jonah with a soft brush: a ritual that she believes will help calm him. Reitman and cinematographer Eric Steelberg frame this sequence with exquisite warmth and sensitivity, and — right away — we know that no matter what else, this is a woman wholly and totally devoted to her children. 

And, although stretched to the limit, she has things covered. Life works.

It’s telling that no character in this story — not Margo, nor her husband Drew (Ron Livingston), nor the increasingly harried school principal (Gameela Wright) — ever uses the terms “spectrum” or “autistic,” despite Jonah’s behavior strongly suggesting as much. We get a sense that Margo resists the label, because acknowledging as much might put Jonah’s care beyond her capabilities ... and that would be unthinkable.

Gringo: South of the border fiasco

Gringo (2018) • View trailer 
Three stars. Rated R, for profanity, violence and sexual content
By Derrick Bang

If the rest of this film were as accomplished as David Oyelowo’s starring performance, it would be far more entertaining.

Who knew Oyelowo could be so adorable and laugh-out-loud hilarious? It’s quite a surprise from the actor who brought such dignity to memorable roles in A United Kingdom, Queen of Katwe and Selma (the latter playing no less than Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.).

Harold (David Oyelowo, left) grows increasingly suspicious when his bosses —
Richard (Joel Edgerton) and Elaine (Charlize Theron) — insist on joining him for what
should be a routine visit to their pharmaceutical company's Mexican manufacturing plant.

Clearly, true acting talent knows no genre boundaries.

Alas, Oyelowo is by far the best part of Gringo, which otherwise is a mess. Scripters Matthew Stone and Anthony Tambakis appear to be going for the uneasy blend of crime thriller and dark-dark-dark comedy that was pulled off so brilliantly by 1993’s True Romance, but that’s a hard act to duplicate. That film was scripted by Quentin Tarantino, and — frankly — Stone and Tambakis aren’t fit to clean the keys of his laptop.

The elements are in place here; Stone and Tambakis simply don’t know how to blend the ingredients into a suitably tasty final product. They badly misjudge some character development, overlook some obvious plot twists, and build to a resolution with at least one (perhaps two) deeply unsatisfying outcomes.

Nash Edgerton’s direction doesn’t help; his handling of the film’s tone is all over the map, and he lets co-star Charlize Theron get away with a truly dreadful performance (something I wasn’t aware she was capable of). Edgerton is a former stunt man and director of video shorts with only one prior big-screen feature to his credit — 2008’s so-so The Square — and I can’t help wondering if his presence here has less to do with having paid sufficient dues, and more to do with his relationship to better-known younger brother Joel Edgerton, who also co-stars in this uneven thriller.

In Hollywood, it truly does pay to have friends in high places.

The story is complicated, so get out your notebooks:

Harold Soyinka, an intelligent but naïvely loyal manager at the pharmaceuticals firm Promethium, is blindly unaware that his boss and (supposed) best friend, Richard Rusk (Edgerton), is a rapacious corporate shark who is cheerfully willing to screw anybody in service of further fattening his bank account. Indeed, Richard is screwing company co-owner Elaine Markinson (Theron), a jaw-droppingly crass, vulgar and profane bitch who casually employs sex as a weapon.

Theron’s initial scenes are a perfect example of Nash Edgerton’s poor direction. Her crude, bad-mannered put-downs and liberal F-bombs look and sound contrived, as if Theron isn’t comfortable delivering them, or doesn’t believe in her character ... or something. Whatever the reason, her performance is off-kilter, and remains so; the film never recovers from Elaine’s behavior.

Richard also is sleeping with Harold’s wife, Bonnie (a miscast and badly used Thandie Newton), because ... well, just because. Neither Bonnie nor this sidebar affair is well developed.

Atomic Blonde: A noisy bomb

Atomic Blonde (2017) • View trailer 
Two stars. Rated R, for strong violence, nudity, sexuality and relentless profanity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 7.28.17

British author Antony Johnston obviously grew up reading John Le Carré, because his 2012 graphic novel — The Coldest City, with moody art by Sam Hart — is laden with the sort of spycraft that George Smiley would have recognized: bleak cynicism, operatives known only by code names, squabbling between Intelligence Agency factions, cut-outs, traitors and double-crosses.

It's just another day in the office for Lorraine Broughton (Charlize Theron), as she tries
to prevent KGB thugs from reaching — and killing — the defecting East German
intelligence officer under her protection.

The story takes place in Berlin in November 1989, immediately before and after East and West are unified. An undercover MI6 agent is killed trying to bring invaluable information back to the British: a list believed to identify every espionage agent working on both sides of the wall. Veteran undercover operative Lorraine Broughton is sent to Berlin, to retrieve the list and identify her colleague’s killer; her task is complicated by the chaos of mass demonstrations calling for unification, while KGB loyalists resist with increasing viciousness.

Definitely a hook on which to hang a slick, thoughtful espionage saga.

Too bad director David Leitch and scripter Kurt Johnstad didn’t see it that way.

They’ve essentially re-cast 2014’s loathsomely violent John Wick with a female lead, and the briefest of nods to genre spycraft. (No surprise there, since Leitch was an uncredited co-director on the first Wick.) The distinction is immediately obvious with a name change — Atomic Blonde — that more accurately reflects star Charlize Theron’s luminously white hairstyle, and the luxuriously wild outfits that she wears so well: most of them also vibrant white, with striking black accoutrements. Costume designer Cindy Evans, take a bow.

The Berlin setting is persuasively reproduced by production designer David Scheunemann; cinematographer Jonathan Sela deserves equal credit for gritty street scenes, strobe-lit nightclubs and shadow-laden noir tableaus. No question: This film looks terrific, and feels like the ideal backdrop for cloak-and-dagger subterfuge.

But Leitch has no finer sensibilities. His film is flashy trash: violent, tawdry and depressingly nihilistic. Midway through this two-hour exercise in brutality, it becomes impossible to keep track of who’s good, bad or in between; Johnstad’s script keeps changing its mind, seemingly on every other page.