Don't Say Good Luck: A poignant character drama

Don't Say Good Luck (2026) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five); rated PG-13, for thematic material, fleeting profanity, teen drinking and mild sexual references

Available via: Netflix

By Derrick Bang

Sunny Sandler’s delicately nuanced starring performance fuels this charming little character drama, although — in fairness — director Julia Hart draws finely shaded work from every member of this carefully assembled cast.

 

Sophie (Sunny Sandler, left) and her mother Elizabeth (Melanie Lynskey) make the most
of a mall outing designed to help the young woman improve her stage confidence.

As I well recall from her handling of 2020’s equally captivating Stargirl, Hart excels at depicting the bond between adults and teenagers, whether parents and their children, or — also, in this case — drama coaches and their nervous young actors.

The setting is a contemporary suburban community — principle filming took place in New Jersey — with much of the action centered at Westridge High School. Sophie (Sandler) wakens on a typically bustling morning in the Birenbaum household, due to her irrepressibly mischievous younger twin brothers, Caleb and Ethan (Matan and Eitan Friedman), barely controlled by harried parents Ted (Max Greenfield) and Elizabeth (Melanie Lynskey).

 

Today is a big day for Sophie: tryouts for the annual school play. Elizabeth shares some encouraging words with her daughter, before Sophie heads for school; they’re both amused when Ted accidentally butt-dials his phone, allowing them to hear his downstairs hijinks with the boys.

 

That narrative gimmick is a clever ongoing touch in the script by Hart, Laura Hankin and Jordan Horowitz.

 

Once the school day concludes, Sophie, bestie Carolyn (Scarlett Estevez) and all the other members of the school drama club gather in the multi-purpose room. Because the selected play is the musical version of Waitress, adapted from the 2007 film of the same title, the drama club’s regular advisor, Mr. Stuart (Joel Waggoner), has surrendered the reins to musical theater coach Ms. Parker (Stephanie Beatriz).

 

All the students know that resident drama club diva Mallory Sinclair (Elyse Bell) is destined for the starring role of Jenna; Sophie hopes to get the quirky supporting role of Dawn.

 

Elsewhere, though, this also is a fateful day for Sophie’s parents, who have an appointment with Elizabeth’s oncologist. The news is bad: The cancer that she and Ted hoped had gone into remission, has returned ... with a vengeance.

 

And as this awful verdict is delivered, Ted’s phone once again butt-dials Sophie ... just as Ms. Parker calls her to the stage.

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.

The King of Staten Island: Should be de-throned

The King of Staten Island (2020) • View trailer 
One star. Rated R, for drug use, sexual candor, brief violence and gore, and relentless profanity and vulgarity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 6.12.20

I cannot imagine this film’s target audience.

For starters, calling it a comedy is false advertising; nothing is funny here. Not even remotely amusing.

Scott (Pete Davidson) sees nothing wrong with staying home with his mother (Marisa
Tomei) most nights, and watching mindless television. Alas, when this cozy dynamic is
threatened by a newcomer, Scott becomes even meaner than usual.

If writer/director Judd Apatow has made this for millennials, it’s a savagely damning portrait. Are we seriously to believe that anything about this misbegotten drama’s protagonist is endearing?

Even given Apatow’s decency-shredding tendencies, and fondness for vulgarity, The King of Staten Island is way, way beyond tolerable. 

It’s available as an on-demand streaming rental, at a premium price.

At its core, the script — by Apatow, Dave Sirus and star Pete Davidson — is a redemption saga. Meaning, we spend the first two acts watching ruthlessly selfish, 24-year-old, weed-smoking degenerate Scott Carlin (Davidson) abuse everybody in his orbit … after which we’re supposed to cheer him on during the third act, when he starts getting his act together.

Sorry, but no; this formula works only if the character in question deserves redemption. Which Scott most certainly does not.

On top of which, the character dynamics here don’t exist in anything remotely approaching reality. While higher than a kite, and egged on by his “friends,” Scott starts to tattoo a 9-year-old boy … and he doesn’t get locked up for child abuse? Worse still, the boy’s father — following an initial furious tirade — quickly turns forgiving, because he wants to start dating Scott’s mother?!?

This is supposed to seem reasonable?

Not in this universe. This script — and premise — are forced contrivances stretched far beyond the snapping point.

Scott, a foul-mouthed Failure To Launch, still lives with his mother, Margie (Marisa Tomei, who does her best to bring some class and charm to these dire proceedings). Their lives have remained on hold ever since her husband, Scott’s father, died in action as a Staten Island fireman. Margie maintains a living room shrine to her late husband; Scott has weaponized his grief as an excuse to be nasty to everybody.

Hotel Transylvania 3: Summer Vacation — A monstrous good time

Hotel Transylvania 3: Summer Vacation (2018) • View trailer 
Four stars. Rated PG, for mild rude humor
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 7.13.18

The jokes never get old.

Many of the sight gags and laugh lines in this new outing are recycled from the two previous films, but we can’t complain when the result remains so entertaining. It has long been fun to exploit the absurdity of classic monsters, going all the way back to 1948’s Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein. 

To his surprise, Dracula falls head-over-heels in love with cruise ship captain Ericka,
little realizing that he needs to know a lot more about her heritage.

This is director Genndy Tartakovsky’s third crack at this series’ fast-paced humor in a jugular vein, and he has the formula down pat: He and co-writer Michael McCullers divide this new adventure into distinct chapters, each of which presents unique opportunities for hilarity.

While, at the same time, each enhances the (mild) suspense of the story’s core plot.

A brief prologue mines Bram Stoker territory, by depicting the long-running battle between the resourceful Dracula (voiced by Adam Sandler) and various members of the Van Helsing clan, all of whom have devoted their lives to eradicating monsters. But as we move past the 19th and 20th centuries, and into modern times, all monsters have become sheltered beneath Dracula’s protective cape — as the two previous films have established — where they can safely enjoy themselves in his Hotel Transylvania.

On top of which, Dracula always has been able to make short work of the various Van Helsings, including the most recent, and most persistent: Abraham Van Helsing (Jim Gaffigan).

Happily ensconced in his hotel, Dracula’s busy schedule has compromised his ability to spend time with vampire daughter Mavis (Selena Gomez), her gonzo-mellow human husband Johnny (Andy Samberg), and their precocious 5-year-old son Dennis (Asher Blinkoff). The latter, in turn, can’t stand to be parted from his elephant-sized puppy, Tinkles (who, fortunately, doesn’t live down to his name).

Worried that her father is wearing himself thin, and is unable to spend quality time with friends and family, Mavis secretly books a vacation for the entire gang — Drac’s Pack — on a luxury monster cruise ship. Although initially unimpressed by the notion of spending time on a massive “hotel on the water,” Dracula comes around when he unexpectedly “zings” — the monster equivalent of love at first sight — with the ship’s captain, the dimple-chinned Ericka (Kathryn Hahn).

Little do Dracula and his friends know, however, that Ericka is a Van Helsing, and the cruise actually is an elaborate trap designed to destroy all monsters. Finally. Forever.

Transformers: The Last Knight — Should be junked

Transformers: The Last Knight (2017) • View trailer 
No stars (turkey). Rated PG-13, for relentless sci-fi action violence
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 6.23.17

This isn’t even a good video game.

As a movie, it’s a $260 million disaster.

When Col. William Lennox (Josh Duhamel) inexplicably decides that the über-evil
Megatron might help U.S. forces find some all-important Transformers tech, he okays
the release of a ferocious quartet of evil Decepticons. Which immediately start fragging
every human being in sight. Like, anybody expected otherwise?

Actually, the term movie doesn’t even apply. Movies have plots. And characters. This cacophonous monument of soulless wretched excess has neither.

I’m frankly astonished that Art Marcum, Matt Holloway, Ken Nolan and Akiva Goldsman have the audacity to claim credit for a script. The spoken lines in this junkyard dog are so sparse — often limited to monosyllabic exhortations such as “We’ve got to go!,” “Hang on!,” “Good job!” and “Jump!” — and the action so haphazard, that one could watch the entire 149-minute mess with the dialog track eliminated entirely, and have just as much success trying to extract meaning from the bonkers narrative.

That also would spare us from the faux profundities in the film’s hilariously overwrought voice-over narration. The Monty Python gang, at their prime, could not have concocted more ludicrously silly monologues. But helmer Michael Bay intends us to take them seriously.

Bay began his career as a director of music videos, and it could be argued — particularly during the past decade — that he never shifted gears. Such video shorts are no more than a series of flamboyant, hyper-edited visuals solely in service of the music; with very rare exception, there’s no such thing as “story” or “character.”

The same could be said of Transformers: The L(e)ast Knight, fifth entry in this increasingly dismal franchise, which is no more than an overlong showcase reel for numerous special effects companies. Bay couldn’t care less about story, and he obviously couldn’t care less about character; his notion of an “emotional moment” starts and stops with a tight-tight-tight close-up of a given actor’s face, always bearing a silent, stricken, gape-mouthed expression. Pause and hold for what seems an eternity.

Tears are optional (but desired).

The result would be laughable, if the process of watching the damn thing weren’t so relentlessly repetitious, predictable, exhausting and tediously dull.

Bay doesn’t make movies; he makes product. Noisy, lowest-common-denominator trash designed for an indiscriminate international market.

Expensive and impressively mounted trash, to be fair ... but trash nonetheless.

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).

Monsters University: Endearing school daze

Monsters University (2013) • View trailer 
Four stars. Rating: G, and suitable for all ages
By Derrick Bang

Delving into the origins of popular characters can be quite a lark — consider the fun that’s been had with younger versions of Sherlock Holmes, James Bond and the Star Trek crew — and Pixar has uncorked a collegiate charmer with Monsters University.

When an extra-curricular field trip goes awry, the members of Oozma Kappa — from
left, Art, Don, Squishy, Terri/Terry, Mike and Sulley — find themselves being pursued
by Folks In Charge. With few options for escape, our misfits are about to learn an
important lesson: Salvation comes when friends work together.

Spending more time in the imaginatively conceived “monster universe” is delectable enough, and director/co-scripter Dan Scanlon has sweetened the pot by supplying the inside scoop on how monocular-eyed Mike Wazowski (once again voiced by Billy Crystal) first met bodaciously blue-furred James P. “Sulley” Sullivan (John Goodman).

Naturally, it’s competitive loathing at first sight. Isn’t that the way all grand friendships are born?

Although this prequel lacks freshness and originality — try as they might, Scanlon and co-scripters Daniel Gerson and Robert L. Baird can’t replicate the giggly, first-time awe generated by 2001’s Monsters, Inc. — it compensates with a warm-hearted story that extols both the virtues of friendship and integrity, and the all-important notion that diversity is valuable for its own sake.

Yep, even a world littered with crazy-quilt critters isn’t immune to social pecking orders that ostracize misfits and timid outcasts. Scanlon & Co. pull off an impressive trick here: Even though we know the future of this realm’s scare industry — thanks to the first film — this sparkling new adventure of Mike and Sulley sets up innovative adversaries and challenges, while keeping a steady (single) eye on the core message of camaraderie and integrity.

Resourceful as we might be on our own, we’re always stronger when good buddies have our back ... and we have theirs.

We first meet Mike during childhood (voiced with high-pitched, little-kid sincerity, in these early scenes, by Noah Johnston), as a teacher’s pet and correspondingly shunned know-it-all, who nonetheless blossoms during a school field trip to the Monsters Inc. “Scream Floor.” Little Mike is spellbound, as he watches veteran Scarers travel through the magical doors that lead into the bedrooms of unsuspecting Earth children, there to elicit the youthful shrieks and screams that supply the essential power to the Monster Universe.

This, young Mike decides, is what he wants to do in life.

The Incredible Burt Wonderstone: Hey, presto!

The Incredible Burt Wonderstone (2013) • View trailer 
3.5 stars. Rating: PG-13, for profanity, sexual candor, fleeting drug content and dangerous stunts
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 3.15.13

Las Vegas magic acts — with their glitzy, overwrought buffoonery — are ripe for parody, and director Don Scardino attacks this subculture with verve, in The Incredible Burt Wonderstone.

Having discovered that his childhood idol is living in a retirement home, Burt
Wonderstone (Steve Carell, left) is delighted when Rance Holloway (Alan Arkin)
eventually consents to do a few tricks for the other residents.

Armed with a witty script that hits most of the right notes, Scardino demonstrates his own gift for prestidigitation, by shaping a gaggle of scene-stealing camera hogs into a well-balanced ensemble comedy troupe. That’s no small thing, when dealing with the likes of Steve Carell, Steve Buscemi and Jim Carrey, any one of whom could ruin a project by being too uninhibited ... and all have done so, in the past (in Carrey’s case, rather frequently).

Not this time. Scardino keeps his stars on point while also drawing deft supporting performances from Alan Arkin, James Gandolfini and Olivia Wilde. The latter, in particular, demonstrates an unexpected talent for comic timing that was nowhere to be seen in her token hottie roles in Tron: Legacy and Cowboys & Aliens. Given her work here, Wilde actually may have an acting career in her future.

The biggest miracle, though, is that this film’s script manages to stay reasonably well focused — and dead-on perceptive, as it skewers Vegas’ wretched excess — despite being a committee affair from four writers: Jonathan M. Goldstein, John Francis Daley, Chad Kultgen and Tyler Mitchell.

Gentlemen, my black top hat’s off to you.

Scardino clearly learned well from a long, Emmy Award-winning television career that has seen him helm shows as diverse as 30 Rock, Law & Order, Ed and even the wonderful Days and Nights of Molly Dodd. The common element: rich ensemble casts with characters we care about.

The story opens with a brief prologue in the early 1980s, as latchkey kid Burt (Mason Cook) celebrates a birthday by himself, forced by his working mother’s absence to bake his own cake (a droll and endearing touch that hints of great things to come). His one present: a celebrity magic set that will evoke strong memories from viewers who remember being a kid back in that era, when Marshall Brodien — as Wizzo the Wizard —hawked his “TV Magic Kit” of “mystifying tricks” on syndicated stations.

In this case, young Burt is awestruck by the kit’s videotape, wherein tuxedo-garbed Rance Holloway (Arkin) promises that magic can change one’s life. Burt, enchanted, starts pulling scarves out of thin air; his school time antics attract the attention of the similarly geeky — and bullied — Anton (Luke Vanek). The two become fast friends, energized by a desire to invent newer, fresher and ever more amazing tricks.

Hotel Transylvania: Monster Mash

Hotel Transylvania (2012) • View trailer
Four stars. Rating: PG, for mild rude humor and some scary images
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 9.28.12

Funniest sight-gag I’ve seen in years: The Invisible Man attempting to convey a clue during a spirited round of charades.

Hotel interloper Jonathon, left, concealing his human-ness behind pale makeup and
an orange hairstyle, can't help falling in love with Mavis, Dracula's adorable daughter ...
and the attraction definitely is mutual. But this can't be a good idea, and Dracula
himself would much rather see his little girl stick to (ahem) her own kind.

Hotel Transylvania is generously laden with similar knee-slappers, many piling one atop the next in the rat-a-tat-tat manner of a classic Road Runner cartoon. But this is no seven-minute short; director Genndy Tartakovsky and editor Catherine Apple successfully maintain an exhilarating pace without sacrificing the character elements necessary to hold our interest.

It’s an impressive feat, no less so when considering the involvement of five credited writers: Peter Baynham, Robert Smigel, Todd Durham, Dan Hageman and Kevin Hageman. That many cooks generally spoil the magic potion, but in this case everybody’s sensibilities mesh nicely. The result is a light-hearted spoof of familiar movie monster traditions, blended with wry takes on young love and an unusually extreme generation gap.

Long, long ago, in a haunted forest far, far away, Dracula (voiced by Adam Sandler) constructed a lavish “five-stake resort” that he dubbed Hotel Transylvania: a posh refuge for monsters and their families to vacation, far from curious — and potentially dangerous — eyes. As has become typical of our 21st century re-evaluations of fantasy creatures, these poor monsters are the world’s maligned and misunderstood, hunted and killed by the humans who fear and hate them.

Bearing that last thought in mind, Dracula’s massive sanctuary also has been designed as a place where his daughter, Mavis (Selena Gomez), can grow up safely. Dracula has particular reason for this parental concern; a century and change ago, his beloved wife — Mavis’ mother — was killed by just such a human mob.

But Mavis is celebrating her 118th birthday, and — just like the tower-bound Rapunzel, in 2010’s Tangled — she yearns to explore and experience the outside world. Until now, Dracula has managed to delay her desire, in part through the distraction of ever more elaborate birthday parties.

This one is destined to be no exception, with a guest list that includes Frankenstein (Kevin James) and his brassy wife, Eunice (Fran Drescher); Wayne (Steve Buscemi) and Wanda (Molly Shannon), a couple of loving werewolves who have produced litter after litter of pups; Griffin, the Invisible Man (David Spade); Murray (CeeLo Green), a boisterous, jive-talking mummy; and Quasimodo (Jon Lovitz), the hotel’s temperamental head chef, never seen without his loyal rat assistant, Esmeralda.