The Burial: We totally dig it!

The Burial (2023) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated R, for profanity

Available via: Amazon Prime

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 10.20.23

You can’t beat a well-mounted underdog saga … particularly one that boasts veteran scene-stealers such as Tommy Lee Jones and Jamie Foxx, and is based on actual events.

 

In this case, rather unusual actual events.

 

When their case takes an unexpected turn for the worst, Jeremiah O'Keefe (Tommy Lee
Jones, left) wonders if he did the right thing, even with shrewd attorney Willie Gary
(Jamie Foxx) at his side.

Biloxi-based entrepreneur Jeremiah “Jerry” O’Keefe was in the “funeral business” his entire life, continuing a family tradition that dated back to the end of the Civil War. By the time he reached comfortable old age, O’Keefe owned eight Mississippi-based funeral parlors, along with a parallel funeral insurance business.

But the approach of the 21st century found O’Keefe in financial difficulty for reasons beyond his control. In an effort to raise funds, he agreed to sell three of his funeral homes to Canadian businessman Ray Loewen, who headed a consortium that owned an increasingly large number of Canadian and American funeral parlors.

 

Loewen’s preferred tactic: He’d purchase available funeral homes in a given region, undercut smaller competitors until they went out of business, and then scoop up their operations at fire sale prices.

 

In O’Keefe’s case, Loewen simply stalled on signing and honoring their contract, waiting for the Biloxi businessman to go bankrupt. O’Keefe, justifiably outraged, got a lawyer.

 

But not just any lawyer…

 

What subsequently went down has become a thoroughly engaging legal duel in the capable hands of director Maggie Betts, who also co-wrote the script with Doug Wright, based on journalist Jonathan Harr’s equally absorbing October 1999 New Yorker article. But this isn’t merely a depiction of courtroom theatrics; Betts and Wright spend the lengthy first act introducing and developing the primary players, all well portrayed, so that we sympathize with everybody.

 

Except for Loewen. Bill Camp makes him an arrogant, unapologetic swine: an amoral skunk we want brought to his knees. Camp is the ideal villain.

 

On the surface, Jones’ O’Keefe is an amiable fellow: a doting husband and father of 13 children (!), and grandfather to 43. (We glance in awe at his wife, Annette, played with similar devotion by Pamela Reed.) But Jones’ bearing and expression also display the steel of a long-successful businessman, decorated World War II fighter ace, and former two-term mayor of Biloxi. This isn’t a man to take lightly.

 

And, let it be said, Jones is a longtime master of the cut-them-dead withering gaze.

Elemental: Burns brightly

Elemental (2023) • View trailer

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

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 6.16.23

Pixar’s new fantasy is just as sneakily subversive as 2015’s Inside Out.

 

I continue to be impressed by the way the animation studio’s writers — in this case, Peter Sohn, John Hoberg, Kat Likkel and Brenda Hsueh — work so much real-world relevance into their wildly imaginative stories. On top of which, the strong note of “working hard to get along” is sorely needed these days.

 

While watery Wade looks on happily, fiery Ember does her best to handle his mother
Brook's effusive greeting.

Ember Lumen (voiced by Leah Lewis) is a second-generation transplant to the metropolis of Element City, a realm of Fire-, Water-, Air- and Earth-residents. Her parents — Bernie (Ronnie Del Carmen) and Cinder (Shila Ommi) — left their native Fireland decades ago, in order to grant their daughter a better life. They arrived with little more than a blue flame representing their heritage, and worked hard to turn their new shop, Fireplace, into a popular success.

Bernie is nearing retirement age, and has long promised that Ember will inherit the family business. Unfortunately, the impatient and (ahem) hot-headed young woman has an explosive temper that isn’t conducive to customer interactions.

 

Some structural mishaps bring their shop to the attention of city inspector Wade Ripple (Mamoudou Athie), a Water guy who takes his job seriously. That said, such responsibilities frequently conflict with his compassionate nature; issuing tickets often makes him burst into tears.

 

(“He’s the type of character that’ll cry at a diaper commercial,” notes director Peter Sohn.)

 

Circumstances — and a citywide mystery — force Ember and Wade together, despite the danger that they pose to each other. And while their slowly developing relationship mirrors countless romantic comedies that begin with an oil-and-vinegar couple, the writers here have far more on their minds.

 

Wade is as laid back and gentle as Ember is uptight and passionate. But Wade also is a perceptive listener: a “mirror character” who allows Ember to see herself better. This is crucial, because she has long suppressed a talented artistic side. Truth be told, she doesn’t really want to take over the family business … but she also doesn’t want to disrespect her old-school parents.

 

What’s a loving daughter to do?

 

Yep, we once again have the push/pull that finds a young adult caught between personal ambition — a desire to blaze one’s own trail — and parental expectations. This is handled poignantly, and with gentle good humor; the same is true of the parallel narrative that finds Ember and Wade struggling to look beyond their (blatantly obvious) surface differences, to forge a bond.

 

Uncorked: A pleasant vintage

Uncorked (2020) • View trailer 
3.5 stars. Rated TV-MA, for profanity and mild sexual candor
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 4.3.20

Sensitive, respectful children never want to disappoint their parents.

The guilt can be deeply distressing.

Elijah (Mamoudou Athie, left) can't find the words to tell his father (Courtney B. Vance)
that he has no interest in taking over the family's barbecue restaurant business.

But a crunch point hits when a recently minted adult child embraces a career path completely at odds with what a parent has assumed, planned and counted upon.

Uncorked — a Netflix original — is a modest but engaging feature film debut by writer/director Prentice Penny, best known (until now) for writing and producing a popular string of TV comedies such as Scrubs, Brooklyn Nine-Nine and Insecure. This heartfelt little drama therefore is something of a departure, because — allowing for a for a few droll exchanges — Uncorked is mostly serious.

It’ll also feel very familiar to anybody who survived a similarly uncomfortable experience regarding parental expectations.

Elijah (Mamoudou Athie) has grown up helping his folks — Louis and Sylvia (Courtney B. Vance and Niecy Nash) — run the popular Memphis barbecue joint that was founded by the young man’s grandfather, and has been passed down since then. Although Louis has tolerated his son’s previous career flirtations, there’s no question that — eventually — Elijah is expected to carry on the family tradition.

Unfortunately, Elijah’s current fixation looks to be The One … and it has nothing to do with purchasing just the right wood to properly smoke ribs. Thanks to supplementing his income with a part-time job at a liquor store that specializes in wines, and the encouragement of its owner (Matthew Glave, nicely understated), Elijah has decided to become a master sommelier: an elite designation granted solely to the few able to pass its notoriously difficult annual exam.

Preparing for that challenge will require months of extremely intense — and time-consuming — study.

Louis isn’t the only one whose eyebrows lift, when Elijah confesses this desire during one of his family’s typically boisterous dinners; mishearing “sommelier” as Somalia, half the table wants to know why the heck he’d want to move to Africa.

And it isn’t merely the initial snickers of family members. We’ve already witnessed another, subtler hurdle, when Elijah joined a posh afternoon wine tasting … and its veritable sea of white faces. Penny (to his credit) never stresses this point, and Athie’s performance gives us no indication that Elijah views this as an obstacle; even so, we have to believe that it leaves the young man feeling somewhat isolated.

Patti Cake$: Baked too long

Patti Cake$ (2017) • View trailer 
Three stars. Rated R, for relentless profanity and crude behavior, and drug use
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 9.1.17

An endearing saga of empowerment beats within writer/director Geremy Jasper’s debut feature, but it’s too frequently buried beneath crude behavior, relentless vulgarity and a wildly uneven tone.

As the enigmatic Basterd (Mamoudou Athie) listens warily, Patti (Danielle Macdonald)
outlines a plan for a rather unusual rap group with her grandmother (Cathy Moriarty).

Jasper can’t get out of his own way. He makes the rookie mistake of larding his film with twitchy cinematography, tight-tight-tight close-ups, and a surfeit of artistic aggression undoubtedly intended to mirror his protagonist, but which too frequently feels like an assault on our senses.

A mere 15 minutes into this flick, I wanted to bolt the theater. Patience proved a virtue, as Jasper eventually found his footing, and his film — and its star — ultimately won me over. But not everybody was as generous, during last week’s preview screening; several people abandoned ship. It was hard to blame them.

Patricia Dombrowski (Danielle Macdonald), a plain, plus-size 23-year-old member of America’s working poor, ekes out a marginal existence in her dilapidated New Jersey home town. When not enduring insults during late-night shifts as a bartender in a seedy establishment populated by local losers, she’s stuck at home with a bitter, bitchy, boozy mother (Bridget Everett, as Barb) and a wheelchair-bound grandmother (Cathy Moriarty, as Nana).

Patricia’s fantasy escape route is fueled by her fixation on famed rap god O-Z (Sahr Ngaujah), whose posters fill her bedroom walls; she dreams of stardom under the alias of Patti Cake$ or — better still — Killa P. Truth be told, she’s a talented poet and nimble rapper, but nobody takes her seriously: particularly not Danny Bagadella (McCaul Lombardi), the swaggering townie who dominates the local rap scene, and cruelly calls her “Dumbo” and “White Precious.”

Patti isn’t entirely without allies; she shares her passion for rap with BFF Jheri (Siddharth Dhananjay), a subdued young pharmacist by day, who blossoms into a wildly enthusiastic R&B crooner after hours. He believes in her, far more than she believes in herself. But faith isn’t enough, particularly when — at home — Patti must contend with her larger-than-life mother, who still resents the now grown result of an unintended pregnancy that derailed her own music career.

Everett’s Barb is frankly scary: a formidable force of nature so intimidating that one must credit Patti for having the chutzpah to stand up for herself. The uneasy mother/daughter dynamic is established early on, when Barb wades into the bar on karaoke night, and demands three quick shots from Patti: the latter two poured with long-suffering resignation, and full awareness of what is to come.