Greedy People: Crime really doesn't pay!

Greedy People (2024) • View trailer

Three stars (out of five). Rated R, for violence, sexual content and relentless profanity

Available via: Movie theaters and video-on-demand

By Derrick Bang

They don’t come much darker than this one.

 

At first blush, this modern crime noir from director Potsy Ponciroli and writer Mike Vukadinovich looks like it’ll occupy the darkly humorous neighborhood populated by sardonic classics such as Fargo and In Bruges. The occasional dollops of humor are twisted: driven both by a bevy of burlesque characters and a plot that is far more comically convoluted than it initially appears.

 

The story cooked up by Will (Hamish Patel, left) and Terry (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), in an
effort to explain a woman's grisly death, doesn't withstand the smell test ... but they
nonetheless stick to it.

Midway through the second act, though, Vukadinovich delivers an unexpected wallop that destroys what’s left of a humorous tone.

People who make films of this nature understand that some boundaries shouldn’t be crossed; call them Thou Shalt Nots. Savvy writers and directors recognize that, no matter how twisted or deplorably their characters behave, it’s wise to avoid Thou Shalt Nots, lest viewers be outraged and alienated past the point of forgiveness.

 

Occasionally, though, really savvy directors and/or writers sometimes take that risk, assuming that their filmmaking chops are solid enough to hold the audience. John Carpenter (in)famously violated a Thou Shalt Not at the beginning of 1976’s Assault on Precinct 13, gambling that he’d maintain a level of suspense that would make the move worthwhile. He won that gamble.

 

And goodness; the entire John Wick film series owes its longevity to a Thou Shalt Not broken in the initial 2014 entry.

 

I’m less persuaded that Ponciroli and Vukadinovich are similarly successful here, although the aforementioned wallop definitely plunges their film into much deeper waters.

 

The time is the present, in the sleepy Northeastern coastal island community of Providence (not to be confused with Rhode Island’s capital city). Rookie policeman Will (Himesh Patel) and his very pregnant wife Paige (Lily James) moved into town just three days earlier; they’re still waist-high in unpacked boxes.

 

Will dutifully reports for work on this, his first day; he’s given a brief rundown by Captain Murphy (Uzo Aduba). We’ve already seen her earlier this same morning, at home, still mourning the loss of a young child. Murphy assigns Will to a week of training with veteran cop Terry (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), after which the newcomer will get his own vehicle and beat.

 

Will is an inherently honest family guy who believes in the social stabilization of moral law enforcement. Terry is an opportunistic, foul-mouthed horse’s ass who views police work as an easy path to free coffee and donuts, while rousting and threatening folks for the sheer joy of it. They have nothing in common.

 

Terry acts according to three personal rules, the first of which is, Try Not To Kill Anybody. “It gets messy,” he tells a bewildered Will. 

 

Because, really, who would need killing in a place like Providence?

Peter Pan & Wendy: Fails to fly

Peter Pan & Wendy (2023) • View trailer

Three stars (out of five). Rated PG, and too generous, despite violence, peril and child endangerment

Available via: Disney+

By Derrick Bang

On the one hand, Scottish novelist/playwright J.M. Barrie would be delighted to know that the characters he created, more than a century ago in a 1904 play, resonates strongly to this day.

 

Peter Pan (Alexander Molony, far left) and his new friends — from left, Wendy
(Ever Anderson), John (Joshua Pickering) and Michael (Jacobi Jupe) — carefully spy
on Captain Hook and his motley pirate crew.

On the other hand, I suspect Barrie would be horrified by the liberties that scripters David Lowery and Toby Halbrooks have taken, with respect to the key relationship between Peter Pan and his arch-nemesis, Captain Hook.

But although absurd, that isn’t this live-action film’s biggest problem.

 

Ever Anderson is excellent as Wendy Darling, but Alexander Molony’s Peter Pan is a sorry excuse for this “boy who never grew up.” Lowery — who also directs — fails to draw a credible performance from his young actor. Molony’s line deliveries are flat and uninspired, and he fails to project the mischievous spirit — the sense of magic — that is essential to this character.

 

Far too often, Molony seems disinterested: unwilling — or unable — to display more emotion than one would expect during a first-round script reading.

 

No matter how well everybody else performs, they can’t overcome this lack of a convincing Peter Pan.

 

That’s a shame, because in other respects — the Pan/Hook gaffe aside — Lowery and Halbrooks are faithful to many of the clever details Barrie wove into his play, while making subtle adjustments more appropriate to our 21st century.

 

The story begins in 1911, mid-Edwardian England, as 13-year-old Wendy laments her imminent departure to boarding school. Dismayed by the thought of no longer being able to play with younger brothers John (Joshua Pickering) and Michael (Jacobi Jupe), she defiantly proclaims that she doesn’t want to grow up.

 

That plea is heard by Peter, far away in Neverland; he immediately floats into the Darling children’s bedroom, accompanied by his fairy companion, Tinker Bell (Yara Shahidi). Peter first must capture his errant shadow, which Wendy sews back on with needle and thread, stabbing him slightly in the process. She soothes the pain by giving him a kiss (a thimble); he later reciprocates by giving her an acorn pendant (all details from Barrie’s play).

 

Thanks to an application of Tinker Bell’s sparkly pixie dust, Wendy, John and Michael are able to fly into the night sky, following Peter’s directions to head “second star to the right, and straight on ’til morning.” Daniel Hart and Oliver Wallace’s lush score swells at this point, with an orchestral echo of Sammy Cahn and Sammy Fain’s “You Can Fly! You Can Fly! You Can Fly!,” from Disney’s 1953 animated classic (a nice touch).

 

Hotel Transylvania: Transformania — An enjoyable change of scenery

Hotel Transylvania: Transformania (2022) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, and rather harshly, for cartoon nudity and mild rude humor

Available via: Amazon Prime

By Derrick Bang

Goodness.

 

Bear with me, while I catch my breath.

 

If this isn’t the most frantically paced animated feature ever made, it’ll certainly do until I can recall a wilder one.

 

Nobody else shares Johnny's excitement at becoming a monster; sweetie-pie Mavis,
at his immediate left, is particularly horrified.

The Hotel Transylvania series has enjoyed an entertaining run during the past decade, with various writers successfully concocting fresh plots that cleverly riff these classic Hollywood monsters. This fourth entry is no different; scripters Amos Vernon, Nunzio Randazzo and Genndy Tartakovsky — the latter directed the previous three films — once again put Dracula and his cohorts in hilariously wacky peril.

That said, first-time feature directors Derek Drymon and Jennifer Kluska could have slowed things down a skosh; the sight gags and one-liners erupt with a fury reminiscent of Drymon’s work on Nickelodeon’s CatDog shorts. And it isn’t merely the gags; the characters here seem to be in a constant state of pell-mell anxiety.

 

It’s almost overwhelming. 

 

But, happily, not to the point of hampering our enjoyment.

 

We’ve moved beyond the first film’s crisis of Drac’s 118-year-old daughter Mavis (voiced by Selena Gomez) falling in love with (gasp! shock!) the very human Johnny (Andy Samberg). In the third film, Drac became an item with the similarly human cruise ship captain Ericka (Katherine Hahn), despite the fact that she’s the great-granddaughter of his mortal enemy, Abraham Van Helsing (Jim Gaffigan).

 

Each of these core plotlines has included a warm subtext that focuses on families, and family dynamics … including highly unusual ones.

 

This fourth entry is no different. Events kick off as Drac (Brian Hull), weary of hotel management, contemplates retirement. Although far from a fait accompli, Mavis excitedly realizes that she and her human hubby Johnny will wind up in charge … which sends Drac into a tizzy.

 

Although he has learned to accept Johnny’s presence — recognizing that the excitable young fellow makes Mavis happy — Drac has never fully accepted him as family … or, more crucially, as a son. Ergo, Drac doesn’t want Johnny co-managing the hotel. Desperate for a way out, Drac invents a “rule” stating that all hotel personnel must be monsters.

 

Is Johnny majorly bummed? Absolutely. Does he give up? Absolutely not.

Luca: Fish out of water

Luca (2021) • View trailer

3.5 stars. Rated PG, for no particular reason

Available via: Disney+

By Derrick Bang

To paraphrase a line from George Orwell’s Animal Farm, all Pixar films are excellent, but some are less excellent than others.

 

Having narrowly avoided being spotted by residents of the nearby coastal community,
Alberto, left, and Luca contemplate the best way to resume their land-based human forms.

The animation — always visually dazzling — never is at fault, but some scripts fall far short of the creatively thoughtful brilliance found in (for example) Inside Out and Soul. The Good Dinosaur simply didn’t work; neither did Brave or the Cars sequels (the latter fueled more by merchandising desires, than artistic merit).

Luca is similarly disappointing.

 

Director Enrico Casarosa and his three co-scripters try hard to blend two disparate plot elements, but they never align successfully. And while the story ultimately offers a welcome message on the subject of inclusiveness, that feels like an afterthought.

 

It’s also impossible to ignore the strong echo of The Little Mermaid, which adds an unsatisfying note of been there/done that.

 

The story, taking place in the late 1950s or early ’60s, opens in the ocean, not far from the small Italian seaside town of Portorosso. This underwater setting is home to its own community of “sea monsters,” notably a family unit comprising teenage Luca Paguro (voiced by Jacob Tremblay), his parents Daniela and Lorenzo (Maya Rudolph and Jim Gaffigan), and his elderly, gravel-voiced grandmother (Sandy Martin).

 

These “monsters” — despite their spines, sharp tails and webbing — are much too cute to be the slightest bit scary. The animation team based them vaguely on medieval illustrations from the Carta Marina — a Renaissance map dating back to 1539 — while granting them iridescence, gorgeous colors and oversized, animé-style eyes.

 

In a droll touch, Luca works as a “shepherd,” keeping watch over a school of small fish that bleat like sheep. As with actual sheep, some are prone to wander; Luca’s efforts to keep them in line are quite amusing.

 

We may think Luca and his family are adorable and obviously friendly, but Portorosso’s residents live in abject terror, as if these creatures have been destroying boats and eating small children for centuries. (This clearly isn’t the case, making such panic seem rather odd.)