Showing posts with label Sydney Sweeney. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sydney Sweeney. Show all posts

Friday, August 22, 2025

Eden: Paradise Lost

Eden (2024) • View trailer
Three stars (out of five). Rated R, for strong violence, sexual content, graphic nudity and frequent profanity
Available via: Movie theaters

Director Ron Howard — whose résumé leans toward uplifting, can-do dramas such as Apollo 13Cinderella Man and Rush — seems a very odd choice for this fact-based saga of deplorable, depraved and misanthropic human behavior.

 

Friedrich Ritter (Jude Law) and longtime companion Dore Strauch (Vanessa Kirby) are
less than thrilled, when they suddenly must share their island with a family of
know-nothing newcomers.

What has been dubbed “The Galapagos Mystery” has fueled numerous documentaries and books, the most recent being author Abbott Kahler’s Eden Undone: A True Story of Sex, Murder and Utopia at the Dawn of World War II. The saga has long been well-known across the pond, although this new film likely will arouse interest here in the States.

German physician Friedrich Ritter and his patient-turned-companion, Dore Strauch, were the first “settlers” to arrive on the Galapagos’ Floreana Island in 1929: so chosen since it is one of the few with a (minimal) potable water supply. They spent three contented — if arduous — years as the island’s sole inhabitants. Ritter sent accounts of their lives back to Germany — picked up by occasional passing ships, and then published in newspapers and magazines — and pounded away at an increasingly Nietzschesque manifesto detailing his contempt for mankind.

 

They were joined in 1932 by WWI veteran Heinz Wittmer, his pregnant new wife Margret, and his teenage son Harry, having been inspired by the articles. Although the isolationist Ritter and Strauch likely were annoyed by these “intruders,” they and the Wittmers respected each other’s space.

 

This wary dynamic was completely torpedoed by the next arrivals: Austrian-born Eloise Wehrborn de Wagner-Bosquet, a shameless hedonist accompanied by her two German lovers, Robert Philippson and Rudolf Lorenz, along with an Ecuadorian “worker” named Manuel Borja. Claiming to be a baroness — a title open to historical debate — she systematically bullied and intimidated the others via an insufferably arrogant blend of entitlement, seduction, treachery and a hustler’s talent for exploiting psychological weaknesses.

 

What eventually occurred ... well, that would spoil the story.

 

Howard and co-scripter Noah Pink dumped an intriguing ensemble cast into this combustible brew of jealousy, resentment and worse, although some play their roles better than others. Jude Law and Vanessa Kirby aren’t entirely successful with their German accents, as Ritter and Strauch, although they otherwise slide deftly into the sort of eccentric tics and mannerisms that would be expected of a couple isolated for so long.

 

Law looks appropriately rugged and hardy, and he puts considerable grim intensity into Ritter’s contemptuous denouncements. Kirby’s Strauch is softer, with a fondness for the burro that ferries their heavier goods; she also limps painfully, having embraced this rustic lifestyle in the hope that her multiple sclerosis will go into remission.

 

Law plays Ritter as an obstinate fanatic; Kirby is more nuanced. Strauch tends to walk around barefoot; the first of this film’s many wince-inducing moments comes during the couple’s evening ritual, as Ritter carefully digs parasitic insects out of Strauch’s skin.

 

Friday, February 16, 2024

Madame Web: Hopelessly tangled

Madame Web (2024) • View trailer
One star (out of five). Rated PG-13, for action violence and profanity
Available via: Movie theaters
By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 2.16.24

This is the worst — and wholly failed — attempt at a high-profile superhero movie I’ve ever had the displeasure of enduring.

 

Cassie (Dakota Johnson, rear) and her three new companions — from left, Mattie
(Celeste O'Connor), Anya (Isabela Merced) and Julia (Sydney Sweeney) — are
terrified to discover they're being pursued by a powerful, costumed assassin who can
scuttle along ceilings.


I cannot imagine what prompted Sony/Marvel to green-light this pathetic excuse for a script by five credited hands: Matt Sazama, Burk Sharpless, Claire Parker, Kerem Sanga and director S.J. Clarkson. Nothing — not the premise, plot, characters or dialogue — works, or feels even remotely like how real-world people would behave or talk.

This filmmaking team clearly wished to create a franchise that would give teenage girl heroes an entry into Marvel’s Cinematic Universe, and that’s a noble goal.

 

To have squandered that opportunity so egregiously, however, is deplorable.

 

Why these writers chose to re-invent such an obscure Marvel Comics character also is bewildering.

 

Cassandra Webb — aka Madame Webb — has occasionally scuttled around the fringes of Spider-Man comics since her debut back in November 1980. She’s a “precognitive clairvoyant” who gets unexpected flashes of near-future events, and therefore is able to change them, ideally for better outcomes.

 

But this numb-nuts script by Clarkson et al ignores most of that, instead setting this story’s events in an alternate universe that apparently lacks Spider-Man and all the other familiar Marvel superheroes.

 

Instead, a brief prologue introduces the very pregnant Constance Webb (Kerry Bishé), as she searches the Peruvian jungle for a rare spider, whose venom is reputed to have powerful healing and enhancement properties. She’s accompanied by bodyguard Ezekiel Sims (Tahar Rahim), who may as well have the phrase “actually a murderous opportunist” tattooed on his forehead.

 

Rahim has done better work in other films, but Clarkson clearly couldn’t inspire him here.

 

Sure enough, Sims shows his true colors once Constance finds one of the spiders; she’s mortally wounded in the subsequent scuffle. Sims gets away, while Constance is scooped up by — I’m not making this up — a hitherto-only-rumored tribe of web-garbed individuals with superhuman strength and agility, courtesy of the multitude of those same spiders with whom they’re sympatico

 

These guys carry her off to an underground grotto, and successfully deliver her baby daughter; alas — despite a helpful bite by one of the spiders — Constance dies.

 

Honestly, it’s hard not to laugh. The webby costumes are just silly, and their tree- and vine-hopping swiftness is ridiculously overstated.

Friday, June 2, 2023

Reality: A tantalizing mystery

Reality (2023) • View trailer
Four stars (out of five). Rated TV-MA, for dramatic intensity
Available via: HBO and MAX
By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 6.2.23

Following a brief prologue, as a young woman drives to her home with a load of groceries, a text block informs us that “The FBI documented the following events with an audio recorder. The dialogue in this movie is taken entirely from the transcript of that recording.”

 

It begins innocuously, as FBI agents Garrick (Josh Hamilton) and Taylor (Marchánt Davis)
discuss little more than superficial topics with Reality Leigh Winner (Sydney Sweeney).
But the tone soon becomes much more serious...


Director Tina Satter’s fascinating little film isn’t a documentary; it’s a drama built from an unconventional “script” … and also is adapted from her 2019 play, This Is a Room. (That must’ve been riveting, given the intensity of a live stage performance.)

This version is fueled by a powerful performance from Sydney Sweeney, who recently competed against herself with Emmy Award nominations for The White Lotus and Euphoria (losing both, alas).

 

It’s impossible to take your eyes off her, whether in group shots or cinematographer Paul Yee’s probing close-ups. Sweeney’s expressions and posture range from blithely unconcerned to cheerfully animated, defiant to guilt-ridden. What’s most mesmerizing — and horrifying — is the degree to which her very “being” is incrementally taken apart, as these events proceed: like a jigsaw puzzle being disassembled, piece by piece.

 

The date is June 3, 2017, the setting Augusta, Georgia. The improbably named Reality Leigh Winner (Sweeney), 26 years old, has just returned from the aforementioned shopping trip. She’s greeted by two men who identify themselves as FBI agents Garrick (Josh Hamilton) and Taylor (Marchánt Davis).

 

They have questions.

 

Garrick, establishing himself as the congenial point guy, hastens to ensure that Reality understands her cooperation is voluntary (but never suggests that she contact a lawyer). He and Taylor further explain that they have a search warrant for her home (which they don’t bother to show her).

 

Reality is agreeable and cooperative; her gaze suggests confusion, bewilderment and just the right amount of concern. She seems an honest citizen, who wants to do the right thing … and yet she also doesn’t quite mask the undercurrent of terror that folks often experience, in the presence of unexpected authority.

 

Besides, the dynamic is just a little off. Garrick and Taylor appear to be going from some invisible, carefully rehearsed script. Despite the former’s jovial smile, they radiate censure and mild hostility. What are they after? What did she do… if anything?

 

(This incident flew beneath my radar, in the summer of 2017; ergo, Satter’s film remained an intriguing mystery until its third act, which won’t be the case with anybody who remembers how things went down back then. But if you’re similarly unaware, don’t spoil the suspense by researching Winner ahead of time.)

 

Garrick is friendly and sympathetic, particularly when Reality expresses concern about her pets: a frisky dog that “doesn’t like men” — Taylor snaps to wary attention — and a cat that won’t come out from under her bed. The two agents soon are joined by several carloads more, most notably a hulking guy (Benny Elledge) whose bored expression suggests impatience regarding the “dance” being choreographed by Garrick and Taylor.

 

Reality nonetheless is allowed to secure her pets (for which we are profoundly grateful).