Better Nate than Ever: Broadway dreams

Better Nate Than Ever (2022) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated PG, for no particular reason

Available via: Disney+

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 4.1.22

A film that opens with George Benson’s “On Broadway” definitely gets off to a good start.

 

And yes: For the most part, writer/director Tim Federle’s endearing teen fantasy achieves its modest goals. This is a fairy tale for young theater nerds, and while the first act is a bit ragged, the story — and its talented title character — easily win us over in time.

 

At low ebb, with everything apparently going wrong, Nate (Rueby Wood, center in green)
stumbles across a busking band that happens to be playing — what else? —
"On Broadway."

That said, the relentless “Disneyfication” is quite distracting. This appears to be a world dominated on stage and screen solely by other Disney efforts, which is rather boorish. The Mouse House may desire world domination, but they could be more diplomatic along the way.

 

Anyway…

 

Thirteen-year-old Nate Foster (Rueby Wood, in an energetic film debut), a small-town kid, has long nurtured massive Broadway dreams; alas, nobody else shares his view of his own talent. His parents are quietly tolerant; older brother Anthony (Joshua Bassett) is horrified to discover that Nate attends school wearing — gasp, shudder — lip gloss.

 

The story opens on what Nate assumes will be his big day, with the newly posted school play cast list granting him the starring role in a musical about Abraham Lincoln. Instead, to his horror, he’s relegated to an ensemble part.

 

As a tree.

 

Disappointed beyond words, he’s all but immune to the comforting words of best friend Libby (Aria Brooks), who counsels patience and calls him out at the slightest whiff of a bad attitude. 

 

Ah, but Libby also has Big News. A hot-shot New York director is mounting a Broadway musical adaptation of the 2002 animated film Lilo & Stitch (ahem), and has announced an open casting call for the mischievous, blue-furred title character. Better still, this will take place on the same upcoming weekend when Nate’s parents will treat themselves to a spa experience … and therefore won’t be home to monitor their sons’ activities.

 

Libby has it all worked out (well, mostly). They’ll claim sleepovers with their respective parents, then hop a red-eye bus for the long trip to Manhattan. Once at the casting studio, everything will fall into place … right?

 

Well, no. Predictably.

Boss Baby: Family Business — Nonstop hilarity

Boss Baby: Family Business (2021) • View trailer

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

Available via: Movie theaters and Peacock

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 7.2.21

Hang on a moment; I need to catch my breath.

 

(Whew!)

 

Tim is astonished to discover that his infant daughter Tina actually is a clandestine
operative from Baby Corp, sent to recruit him for a super-secret mission.

Calling the momentum of this animated sequel “brisk” doesn't do it justice; director Tom McGrath’s hilarious romp is mega-prestissimo. This is blink-and-you-miss-stuff pacing.

McGrath took the same approach when he helmed 2017’s Boss Baby, so we shouldn’t be surprised; that said, this one feels even more frantic … which isn’t always a good thing. Michael McCullers’ script stumbles a bit out of the gate; the initial 15 to 20 minutes are too randomly chaotic, as if the story has trouble deciding which direction to take.

 

This sequel also assumes intimate knowledge of its predecessor. Viewers starting here will be overwhelmed by the preliminary information dump, along with the workings — and gadgets — of BabyCorp, the clandestine organization that carefully monitors the health of the “pie chart of love” between all the world’s parents and their children.

 

(Just in passing, I’ve always argued that a sequel should stand on its own; failure to do so suggests filmmaking arrogance.)  

 

The ride smoothes out once the core plot is established, and the feverish velocity feels more in service of the action, and less an affectation for its own sake.

 

Many years have passed. Tim (voiced by James Marsden) and his younger brother Ted (Alec Baldwin) have become adults, and drifted away from each other. Tim and his wife Carol (Eva Longoria) have two young daughters: Tabitha (Ariana Greenblatt), a whip-smart 7-year-old; and newly arrived infant Tina (Amy Sedaris).

 

Ted, the former “boss baby,” has put his business savvy to excellent use, and become a successful hedge fund CEO. He acknowledges all birthdays and important holidays with piles of lavish gifts, but rarely visits; he’s always “too busy.” This is particularly distressing for Tabitha, who idolizes her rarely seen uncle, and hopes to become just like him.

 

This worries Tim — still very much in touch with his childhood imagination — who fears that his elder daughter works too hard, and is missing out on childhood joys. Indeed, she’s top of her class at the prestigious Acorn Center for Advanced Childhood, which seems to be molding her into an obsessed Renaissance scholar.

The Boss Baby: Goo-goo-good!

The Boss Baby (2017) • View trailer 
Four stars. Rated PG, for mild rude humor
By Derrick Bang

Many of Hollywood’s sharpest, wittiest scripts continue to be written for animated features, and The Boss Baby is no exception.

After discovering that his new baby brother has the voice, comprehension and experience
of an adult, Tim is warned not to reveal this information to their parents ... lest his new
sibling really turn the screws during some ramped-up sibling warfare.

Scripter Michael McCullers uses Marla Frazee’s popular 2010 children’s “board book” as little more than inspiration, for a laugh-a-second saga with the rat-a-tat pacing of a classic Road Runner cartoon. Although plenty of savvy humor is milked from the obvious premise — the tsunami-scale chaos that a newly arrived infant inflicts on an unprepared household — McCullers boldly takes this notion where no baby has gone before.

Director Tom McGrath and editor James Ryan keep the action fast and furious; although things sag a bit during the third act — 97 minutes might be a tot too long — all concerned have built up enough good will to surmount potential viewer restlessness. Besides, the story’s characters are cleverly conceived and well cast, with shrewdly selected voice actors: particularly the scene-stealing Alec Baldwin. It’s fun simply to spend time with them.

The story is narrated by an adult Tim (Tobey Maguire), looking back on his long-ago days as a 7-year-old only child who enjoyed his doting parents’ full attention, up to the multiple hugs, stories and songs requested each evening at bedtime. Life couldn’t be better.

It’s important to note, up front, that Tim (now voiced by Miles Christopher Bakshi) has a hyperactive imagination worthy of Bill Watterson’s comic strip star Calvin, and therefore qualifies as a wholly unreliable narrator. You’ll not want to forget that crucial detail, as the droll and quite clever story progresses.

The news that he’s able to have a baby brother sends Tim into a tizzy: on the one hand fearful that his stranglehold on parental affection might be compromised; on the other hand genuinely curious about where babies “come from.” Cue the first of the film’s genius montages, as Tim envisions a heavenly assembly line process that progresses through numerous stages — the application of diapers, booties and binkies, and so forth — before a final shuttle-gate separates the infants into two categories.

Most swoop downward into the loving arms of waiting parents. A select few, however, are judged to have a greater desire for business than nurture, and therefore wind up in functionary or management positions at Baby Co., which runs the entire operation.

Which explains, when Tim rises the next morning, why his new baby brother arrives via taxi, wearing a three-piece suit (details that don’t seem to bother his parents).

Table 19: Book elsewhere

Table 19 (2017) • View trailer 
2.5 stars. Rated PG-13, for occasional profanity, drug use, sexual candor and fleeting nudity
By Derrick Bang

Wedding guests often receive inconsequential little favors: tchotchkes that may draw a smile or two in the moment, but are quickly forgotten.

This movie is just such an item.

The misfits at Table 19 wonder what they've done, to be abandoned in the wedding
reception's far corner: clockwise from left, Bina and Jerry Kemp (Lisa Kudrow and Craig
Robinson), "Nanny Jo" (June Squibb), Walter Thimple (Stephen Merchant), Rezno
Eckberg (Tony Revolori) and Eloise McGarry (Anna Kendrick).

Filmmaking brothers Jay and Mark Duplass are known for modest, character-driven comedies — such as Baghead and Jeff, Who Lives at Home — that feature eccentric folks who don’t quite inhabit the real world. They’re somewhat familiar, in a that-quiet-guy-next-door manner, but you’d probably avoid them in a social situation.

Table 19, alas, is so insubstantial that it would blow away during a soft breeze. The premise is droll but cramped, barely able to drag its way through a mercifully short 85 minutes. Indeed, the film pretty much runs out of gas after the first act, leaving its cast adrift in uncharted waters.

Maybe that’s why the Duplass boys, who generally helm their own material, farmed this one off to director Jeffrey Blitz. Who, to be fair, does the best with what he’s got. Individual moments of Table 19 are quite funny — co-star Stephen Merchant is hilarious throughout — and the core plotline builds to a an unexpectedly poignant conclusion.

But the film too frequently struggles and flounders through awkward silences, much like the half-dozen strangers thrust together at the “misfit table” during a wedding reception that pretty much ignores them.

Until the last moment, Eloise (Anna Kendrick) was the maid of honor for best friend Francie (Rya Meyers), eagerly helping with all wedding and reception details. Eloise also was in a steady relationship with Francie’s brother, Teddy (Wyatt Russell), serving as best man. But that was then; after being dumped by Teddy — via text, no less — Eloise was relieved of her duties and transformed into an instant persona non grata.

(Which, just in passing, seems shallow on Francie’s part ... just as it seems weird that the best man would be her brother. But I digress.)

Defiantly determined to attend the blessed event anyway, Eloise duly arrives to find herself consigned to the Siberia of reception regions: the dread, distant corner Table 19.

The Girl on the Train: Runaway directorial excess

The Girl on the Train (2016) • View trailer 
Three stars. Rated R, for violence, nudity, sexual content and profanity
By Derrick Bang

90 MINUTES IN:

“One more close-up,” I grumble, to Constant Companion, “and I’m gonna throw something through the screen.”

Wanting to help an increasingly confused Scott (Luke Evans), Rachel (Emily Blunt) explains
what she saw one recent morning commute, when she glanced out the train window. But
in truth Rachel isn't certain herself, and this indecision will come back to haunt her.

Truly, by now I can catalog every pore on Emily Blunt’s face. Rarely has a cinematographer been ordered to provide so many tight-tight-tight close-ups, to the serious detriment of his film.

Nor is this the only one of director Tate Taylor’s transgressions. He also relies on lengthy pregnant pauses, as if worried that we viewers are unable to keep up with the story.

Then there’s the matter of the changing first-person narratives, and the frequent flashbacks, all of which are labeled in portentous capital letters (i.e. SIX MONTHS EARLIER). This technique may have worked in Paula Hawkins’ best-selling novel — “the thriller that shocked the world,” the film poster modestly proclaims — but it’s a serious hassle on the big screen.

Employing flashbacks or alternating points of view would have been fine; doing both simultaneously was beyond Taylor’s ability. At times, it’s difficult to determine whether we’re experiencing flashbacks belonging to Rachel, Megan or Anna.

All of which is a shame, because these intrusive directorial tics and hiccups detract from star Emily Blunt’s impressive performance. Her Rachel is a tapestry of disorientation, shame, fear and uncontrolled bursts of fury. Blunt persuasively handles Rachel’s many moods and transformations, making this poor woman, by turns, despicable, vulnerable and heartbreaking.

And by this point in the film, things are beginning to make sense; Rachel’s savage mood swings no longer seem random.

Which, sadly, points to Taylor’s most serious miscalculation. His pacing is so leaden, his extended takes so prolonged, all those pregnant pauses so protracted, that he telegraphs the story’s “big reveal” by giving us too much time to deduce it.

In a nutshell, Taylor has destroyed the suspense present in Hawkins’ book. He made the story boring.