Black Bag: Deliciously crafty

Black Bag (2025) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated R, for profanity, sexual candor and violence

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 3.23.25

Spy flicks don’t come much sleeker, sexier or smarter than this one.

 

Director Steven Soderbergh and writer David Koepp have concocted a tightly plotted, British-based thriller that unfolds over the course of a single week. The execution is mesmerizing, the well-sculpted characters persuasively played by a top-flight cast.

 

George (Michael Fassbender, left) and Freddie (Tom Burke, center) seethe quietly
while their boss, Arthur (Pierce Brosnan) demands a quick result on the search for
a mole known to have stolen a dangerous software cyber-worm.

(As a passing comment, it’s an eyebrow lift to realize that Soderbergh and Koepp also were responsible for the ludicrously overcooked ghost story, Presence, released just a few weeks back. Talk about day and night...!)

Soderbergh controls every aspect of this glossy slice of spyjinks, wearing additional hats as editor and cinematographer (the latter two under his not-at-all-secret aliases of, respectively, Mary Ann Bernard and Peter Andrews). As always, Soderberg loves long tracking shots, and this film opens with an impressive one.

 

Veteran intelligence officer George Woodhouse (Michael Fassbender), an elite operative at Britain’s closely guarded National Cyber Security Unit (NCSC), is summoned to an off-site meeting by his boss, Philip Meacham (Gustaf Skarsgård). A dangerous top-secret software cyber-worm, code-named Severus, has been leaked: likely to Russian agents. Five of George’s colleagues are suspected, and one happens to be his wife, Kathryn (Cate Blanchett), a powerful and trusted NCSC agent.

 

She’s also George’s weakness: He’s unwaveringly devoted to her (and everybody at NCSC knows this).

 

He requests two weeks to conduct a thorough investigation.

 

“Thousands of people will die, if Severus gets into the wrong hands,” Meacham explains.

 

“Oh,” George replies. “One week, then.”

 

Koepp’s dialogue remains this crisp throughout, often with an undercurrent of dark humor.

 

Soderbergh then cuts to George at home, meticulously preparing an ambitious meal for a dinner party. His care and precision, with every little menu detail, mirror his similarly clinical and methodical mind: always thinking four or five moves ahead, like a master chess player. But he’s also fastidious: a few tiny splatters of gravy, on a shirt cuff, demands an immediate change of clothes.

 

He catches Kathryn in their bedroom, getting dressed for the gathering. As a couple, they’re elegant, erudite and obviously whip-smart. Their banter is flirty, but also wary; we wonder what they conceal from each other, out of professional necessity, and also — possibly — for personal reasons. 

Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga — An awesome, explosive sci-fi epic

Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated R, for relentless strong violence, gore and grisly images

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

Seventy-nine years young, director George Miller has lost none of his creative energy or filmmaking chops.

 

Piloting the weapons-laden War Rig — and accompanied by scores of kamikaze
"War Boys," who'll cheerfully die while taking out enemies — Praetorian Jack
(Tom Burke, left) and Furiosa (Anya Taylor-Joy) believe they're ready for anything.
Boy, are they in for a surprise...

Actually, he’s getting better, which is saying a great deal.

Furiosa, the fifth installment in his increasingly complex Mad Max saga — chronologically, the fourth — is a wildly imaginative, audaciously breathless, pedal-to-the-metal thrill ride. This film never lets up, from its first moment to the last, and its 148-minute length doesn’t feel excessive. Indeed, I was disappointed when the final fade to black led to the end credits.

 

That said, Miller’s grimly amoral, post-apocalyptic nightmare of a violence-ridden future isn’t for the faint of heart; this is savage stuff.

 

Those willing to embrace Miller’s vision will be stunned by the spectacle, the awesome production design (Colin Gibson), the mind-blowing stunt work and energetically choreographed action sequences (Guy Norris), the crackerjack editing (Eliot Knapman and Margaret Sixel), the wildly bizarre and often repugnant costume design (three-time Oscar winner Jenny Beavan, one of them for 2016’s Mad Max: Fury Road), the similarly weird and wacky makeup design Lesley Vanderwalt), and the unbelievable energetic cinematography (Simon Duggan).

 

All of which is assembled, with unerring precision, by the equally gifted Miller.

 

Honestly, adjectives fail me.

 

For those not versed in the Mad Max saga — after all, the first three films were four decades and change ago — an off-camera narrator explains, during a brief prologue, that a global catastrophe left much of Earth uninhabitable. Most of Australia, setting for this narrative, is a radioactive wasteland.

 

(One must take this information with a possible grain of salt; later events suggest that this is an unreliable narrator.)

 

The subsequent storyline is divided into five chapters, each running roughly half an hour, each given ominously ironic titles. The first opens as adolescent Furiosa (Alyla Browne) and Valkyrie (Dylan Adonis) pick fruit in the Eden-like “Green Place of Many Mothers.” Furiosa spots four raiders; aware of the importance of keeping this realm a secret from any outsiders, she tries to sabotage their motorbikes.

Living: A magnificent character study

Living (2022) • View trailer

Five stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, and too harshly, for suggestive material and fleeting nudity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 1.27.23 

If Bill Nighy were able to shift a single eyebrow, I’ve no doubt the resulting expression would convey a wealth of emotion.

 

He’s that good.

 

Williams (Bill Nighy) is surprised to find Margaret (Aimee Lou Wood) working as a
waitress at her new posting, knowing that she took the job under the belief that she'd
be an assistant manager.

His performance here, as a morose, quietly contemplative civil servant, is a masterpiece of nuance. Nighy’s dialogue is spare; when speaking, he brings a wealth of depth and significance to every word, every syllable. And even when silent, his posture and gaze convey everything we need to know about this man, at each moment.

 

Some actors are born to play a particular role, and I can’t imagine anybody but Nighy playing this one. It will, I’m sure, remain his crown jewel.

 

Director Oliver Hermanus and scripter Kazuo Ishiguro deliver a meticulously faithful adaptation of Akira Kurosawa’s 1952 classic, Ikiru, which in turn borrowed heavily from Leo Tolstoy’s 1886 novella, The Death of Ivan Ilyich. (All concerned also owe a significant debt to Charles Dickens’ Bleak House.)

 

The year is 1953, the setting London: still struggling to recover from the bombing raids of World War II. Mr. Williams (Nighy), a lonely widower known by colleagues as “The Old Man,” is head of one department in a multi-story government building laden with similar subdivisions, all of which work hard at having nothing to do with each other.

 

Which is to say, most of these nattily attired men are hardly working.

 

It’s a bureaucratic maze of “D-19s,” “K Stacks” and countless other forms and protocols, where suggestions, proposals, petitions and heartfelt entreaties go to die, after being shuttled between — as just a few examples — Parks, Planning, Cleansing & Sewage, and Public Works (the latter a deliciously ironic oxymoron).

 

Public Works is Williams’ department, and whenever a folder shuttles back into his hands, he places in amid countless others on his desk. “We can keep it here,” Nighy sighs, in a disinterested tone. “There’s no harm.”

 

Rest assured, it’ll never be viewed again.

 

All of this is a shock to idealistic newbie Peter Wakeling (Alex Sharp), who is dismayed to find a similar mountain of paper at his desk. Secretary Margaret Harris (Aimee Lou Wood), sympathetic to his first-day confusion, quietly advises Peter to maintain the height of his “skyscraper” of unfinished work, lest colleagues suspect him of “not having anything very important to do.”

Mank: A true dazzler

Mank (2020) • View trailer

Five stars. Rated R, for profanity and sexual candor

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 1.8.21

Director David Fincher’s Mank is a magnificent experience in all manner of ways, starting with Gary Oldman’s mesmerizing portrayal of celebrated journalist, author and screenwriter Herman J. Mankiewicz.

 

Screenwriter Herman J. Mankiewicz (Gary Oldman) and actress Marion Davies
(Amanda Seyfried) meet over a shared cigarette; they'll soon bond over their
tempestuous fealty to William Randolph Hearst.

It’s also a bravura, often breathtaking display of cinematic art. Fincher, cinematographer Erik Messerschmidt and editor Kirk Baxter have meticulously replicated the style, atmosphere and very essence of the film — Citizen Kane — whose creation drives this narrative. The sharply sculpted screenplay — by Fincher’s late father, Jack — even mimics the non-linear storytelling style that was so innovative in Orson Welles’ classic.

 

The saga is rigorously period-authentic, and (mostly) historically accurate. Jack Fincher conflates a few key events — and meddles a bit with chronology — to heighten dramatic tension, but his characterization of key players is (often dismayingly) dead-on.

 

Perhaps Jack Fincher’s most audacious stroke is his revival of a controversy that film scholars have deemed long settled: the question of who actually wrote, and/or contributed the most, to the script of Citizen Kane. Fincher pere et fil clearly imply that Mankiewicz deserves the lion’s share of credit, whereas actual evidence weighs far more heavily in Welles’ favor. 

 

Ah, but even here, Fincher’s script is cheekily ambiguous … because their Mankiewicz clearly isn’t the most reliable narrator of — or participant in — his own life.

 

(In the movie world, stubborn skeptics are akin to those who insist that Shakespeare’s plays actually were written by Francis Bacon. For the record, though, Welles and Mankiewicz shared the screenplay Academy Award, the sole victory among Kane’s nine Oscar nominations.)

 

Fincher opens his film in early 1940, as Mankiewicz is deposited at an isolated ranch in Victorville, California, roughly 90 miles from the hedonistic Hollywood environment that exacerbates his worst tendencies. He’s left with secretary Rita Alexander (Lily Collins), longtime friend and writing associate John Houseman (Sam Troughton), and a nurse (Monika Gossmann) to care for a badly broken leg sustained in a recent driving accident.

 

Mankiewicz’s assignment from Welles: to come up with the initial draft of a screenplay depicting the imperious career of a combustible newspaper mogul who — wink, wink, nudge, nudge — isn’t really based on William Randolph Hearst. Except that of course it is.