Showing posts with label crime drama. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crime drama. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 17, 2026

Crime 101: Slick and suspenseful

Crime 101 (2025) • View trailer
Four stars (out of five). Rated R, for violence, sexual candor, brief nudity and plenty of profanity
Available via: Movie theaters

This is a solid, methodical crime thriller, very much in the mold of classics such as 1971’s The French Connection, 2010’s The Town, and director Michael Mann’s Heat (1995) and Collateral (2004).

 

During their first date, Maya (Monica Barbaro) becomes increasingly puzzled when
Mike (Chris Hemsworth) is unable — or unwilling — to share personal details about
his childhood, friends and family members.
Director/scripter Bart Layton delivers a similarly clinical, semi-detached atmosphere, along with an intriguing roster of characters, each deftly portrayed by the excellent ensemble cast. Layton also benefits from his source material: the 2021 novella by respected crime author Don Winslow.

The best line from that novella, which firmly establishes the milieu in which these individuals operate: “Laws are made to be broken, with rules that are made to be followed.”

 

The on-screen result is a treat.

 

Layton doesn’t waste time with any back-story. We briefly meet our three primary characters as each greets a new day: Mike Davis (Chris Hemsworth), cool, calm and collected; Sharon Coombs (Halle Berry), exhausted from another night of fitful sleep; and Lou Lubesnick (Mark Ruffalo), rumpled, flustered and unhappy.

 

Matters then focus on Mike, as he begins another of his precision-planned heists of jewels being transported to underworld buyers. He intercepts and takes the place of a guard, which grants him access to the actual transfer point, orchestrated by the shady jeweler (Payman Maadi, as Sammy Kassem). Davis brandishes a gun, sufficient to frighten everyone into cooperation; clearly, variations of this approach have succeeded many times before.

 

But this time things go slightly awry, because an intermediary brought along a younger, unseasoned companion who behaves rashly.

 

Clearly shaken, Mike nonetheless keeps his rendezvous with his fence and “sponsor,” known only as Money (Nick Nolte). They discuss Mike’s next scoped-out job, involving the robbery of a posh Santa Barbara jewelry store. But Mike has had second thoughts, concerned by too many variables.

 

Meanwhile, high-end claims adjuster Sharon Coombs (Halle Berry), dressed to kill, is doing her best to sweet-talk über-rich Beverly Hills asshole Monroe (Tate Donovan) into allowing her company to insure and protect all the flagrantly expensive elements of his upcoming marriage to his trophy fiancée, Adrienne (Andra Nechita). 

 

Sharon has long been promised partnership at her firm, but she’s beginning to realize that her smarmy boss, Mark (Paul Adelstein), has been dangling this hope while using her as glamorous “bait” on wealthy clients. And, on the north end of 50, Sharon worries that she may be reaching her sell-by date … particularly when Mark augments his team with a much younger cutie.

 

When Kassem calls the police; Lou catches the case with his partner, Tillman (Corey Hawkins). Recognizing the modus operandi, Lou is convinced that this is the latest job by the same individual responsible for a couple dozen earlier, similar heists, all of them committed at stores along the 101 freeway. But he’s alone is this belief, and his ongoing obsession has diminished the respect he once possessed, as a capable investigator.

 

Lou is an old-style cop, who trusts his instincts and believes in following even the tiniest of leads. This attitude has made him a dinosaur, increasingly at odds with a boss who prefers clearing cases off the department ledgers, to actually solving who perpetrated them.

Friday, January 23, 2026

The Rip: Quite disappointing

The Rip (2026) • View trailer
2.5 stars (out of five). Rated R, for violence and gobs o' profanity
Available via: Netflix
By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 1.25.26

Matt Damon and Ben Affleck have appeared together in more than a dozen films, since their small supporting roles in 1992’s School Ties

 

After climbing into an attic that is suspiciously clean and empty, narcotics cops J.D.
(Ben Affleck, left) and Dane (Matt Damon) notice that a back wall appears to be a
"false front."

They most often have been part of an ensemble cast, or one has starred while the other took a smaller supporting role, as in 2023’s Air. Learning that they’d share equal starring roles in a crime thriller helmed by action director Joe Carnahan therefore sounded promising … although his résumé is wildly uneven, to say the least. Hits such as Narc and The A-Team share space with junk such as Battle Ready and Shadow Force.

Carnahan and co-scripter Michael McGrale clearly borrowed a note from Howard Hawks’ 1959 classic, Rio Bravo — remade, in an urban setting, by John Carpenter in 1976’s Assault on Precinct 13 — and that also seemed like good news.

 

Alas, all that potential is sabotaged by the most relentless barrage of F-bombs I’ve ever endured in a mainstream film. Every character succumbs to this nonsense, at times unleashing a torrent within a single sentence. It’s inane, distracting and a glaring example of uninspired screenwriting. We barely get a sense of these people as individuals, because they’re little more than profanity-spewing caricatures.

 

Ahem.

 

Things begin viciously, as Miami-Dade Police Capt. Jackie Valez (Lina Esco) is brutally murdered, late at night, by two masked thugs … but not before she sends a text. To somebody.

 

In the aftermath, the members of her special unit — the Tactical Narcotics Team — are grilled by higher-ups who’ve heard rumors of crooked cops robbing drug houses. These silly interrogations don’t get the story off to a good start, since both Lt. Dane Dumars (Damon) — Valez’s second in command — and Detective Sgt. J.D. Byrne (Affleck), along with the visiting Feds, lose their tempers in twin displays of unrestrained overacting.

 

As an added wrinkle, one of the Feds — Del (Scott Adkins) — is J.D.’s brother.

 

The team later regroups to assess the situation; the other members are Mike Ro (Steven Yeun), Numa Baptiste (Teyana Taylor) and Lolo Salazar (Catalina Sandino Moreno). The latter handles their drug- and cash-sniffing beagle, Wilbur. DEA colleague Matty Nix (Kyle Chandler) drops by briefly to hassle them; it’s difficult to tell if it’s good-natured ribbing, or genuine suspicion.

 

In a nod to Robert Mitchum’s character in 1955’s Night of the Hunter, Dane has two sets of letters tattooed on his hands: AWTGG and WAAAWB.

Friday, January 17, 2025

Emilia Pérez: Breathtakingly original

Emilia Pérez (2024) • View trailer
3.5 stars (out of five). Rated R, for profanity, violence and frank sexual content
Available via: Netflix

Wildly operatic, transgender, quasi-farcical cartel telenovela musical mash-ups — in Spanish, of course — don’t come along very often.

 

Enraged by the criminal scum she has spent a career representing, Rita (Zoe Saldaña)
vents her fury during the first act's show-stopping production number.


Depending on one’s open-mindedness, French director/co-writer Jacques Audiard’s dream project is either a wildly imaginative phenomenon — after all, it took the Jury Prize at last year’s Cannes Film Festival — or a ludicrously overcooked mess that repeatedly betrays its characters.

I lean toward the former, with some misgivings. Whatever its occasional faults, Emilia Pérez covers strong dramatic territory, and boasts some truly show-stopping production numbers.

 

The elevator-pitch plot summary: Mexican drug kingpin Juan “Manitas” Del Monte, who for his entire life has wished to escape his cycle of violence and death, embraces gender-affirming surgery and emerges as Emilia Pérez, a stylish, soon-to-be-much-admired advocate for citizens whose friends and relatives have been “disappeared.”

 

Of course, it isn’t that simple. Emilia soon discovers that a new identity — indeed, an entire transformation — cannot erase one’s heart and soul, not to mention a lifetime of vicious behavior patterns.

 

But all that comes later. Audiard — aided by co-writers Thomas Bidegain, Léa Mysius and Nicolas Livecchi — begin by introducing the story’s true protagonist: Rita Moro Castro (Zoe Saldaña), a talented but overtaxed 40-year-old defense attorney, who is increasingly sickened by a career spent helping cartel thugs, murderers and wife-killers avoid prison.

 

Right out of the gate, Saldaña proves that she owns this film.

 

Rita’s anger and self-loathing are highlighted in the first dazzling production number, “El Alegato,” as she moves among hundreds of folks in a street market, chanting and singing while typing notes and then striding toward court, with everybody around her quickly drawn into the action. It’s an explosive display of cinematographer Paul Guilhaume’s inventive camera placement, Juliette Welfing’s tight editing, and Damien Jalet’s vibrant choreography.

 

The result is a show-stopper on par with the similarly fantastic “Another Day of Sun” freeway sequence, which opens 2016’s La La Land.

 

Rita’s professional talent hasn’t gone entirely unnoticed; she’s abruptly brought before Manitas (Karla Sofía Gascón), a terrifying, tattoo-covered figure with gold teeth and a menacing aura that could smother the faint of heart. He makes her the ultimate offer that cannot be refused: Find a surgeon who’ll handle a gender transition, safely relocate his family in the wake of “his” death, and navigate all the tricky legal details ... after which she’ll be paid more money than she ever could have imagined.

 

But the clock is ticking, since Manitas already has (secretly) begun hormone therapy. “Your predecessor wasted too much time,” he warns.

 

The subsequent whirlwind montage hits high burlesque with “La Vaginoplastia,” a production number set in a Bangkok transitional surgery clinic, where Rita learns all about the, um, necessary snips, tucks, folds and so forth. (This is likely the moment when puritanical viewers will choose to escape.)

 

But then Audiard abruptly shifts emotional gears — not for the last time — when Rita finally encounters an Israeli surgeon (Mark Ivanir, as Dr. Wasserman) willing to consider the procedure. During their quiet and surprisingly emotional duet, “Lady,” he warns that he can change the body ... but he cannot change the mind.

 

Manitas vanishes into surgery and post-operative recovery, with everybody believing him killed and vanished by a narco rival. By this point, we’ve also met his wife, Jessi (Selena Gomez), a self-centered little tart who pays scant attention to their two children; Rita relocates all three to Switzerland.

 

According to the original plan, that should be the end of it.

 

But no.

 

Four years pass. Rita has blossomed into a respected attorney on the proper side of the law. During a fancy dinner laden with movers and shakers, she’s seated next to a striking and impressively dressed woman. It doesn’t take Rita more than a few heartbeats to realize that this charismatic figure — Emilia Pérez (also played by Gascón) — is Manitas’ new identity.

 

And she wants to be reunited with her children. (Cue the warning bells.)

 

Rita arranges this; Jessi and the children return to Mexico, and move into the opulent home of “Manitas’ distant cousin,” Emilia. That this charade succeeds is the story’s biggest eyebrow lift, because — honestly — Manitas and Emilia don’t look that different. 

 

The very notion would descend into farce, except that Audiard once again plays against expectation, with the film’s most poignant song: “Papa,” a lament that unfolds as “Auntie Emilia” tucks her young son into bed one night. “You smell like Papa,” the boys says, sleepily curling into her arms; the play of emotions on Gascón’s face is shattering.

 

Wanting to atone for previous bad behavior, Emilia enlists Rita to help set up a foundation, La Lucecita, devoted to finding the more than 10,000 people missing in this region alone. But the bloom quickly fades from this rose — for Rita — when Emilia is forced to solicit funds, during a fancy charity dinner, from a room laden with corrupt politicians, judges and public figures.

 

Rita’s wrath at this hypocrisy explodes into the second dazzling production number: “El Mal,” a cheeky, rock-and-rap extravaganza that sends Saldaña striding, writhing and bouncing around the room and onto tables, as Rita — entirely in her imagination — announces and castigates the vile secrets shared by this deplorable ruling elite.

 

This sequence will, fer shur, earn Saldaña an Oscar nomination.

 

In terms of storyline, matters subsequently go from bad to worse, building to what obviously will be Shakespearean-style tragedy.

 

That said, the increasingly grim third act also features several notable musical performances: “Mi Camino,” a vibrant, karaoke-style number sung by Gomez, which highlight’s the story’s themes of love and identity; and “El Amor,” a soft duet between Gascón and Adriana Paz, who enters proceedings as Emilia’s new lover, Epifania.

 

Even when the primary characters aren’t bursting into song, their dialogue frequently shifts from spoken words to softly chanted ballads with oft-repeated lyrics. Almost all of these narrative-enhancing tunes are written and sometimes performed by French singer/songwriter Camille, working with composer Clément Ducol.

 

In fairness, viewers who faithfully hang on during this film’s 132 minutes likely will be moved by the finale. Audiard definitely knows how to work one’s emotions.

 

However...

 

Gomez is a glaringly weak link; her acting chops simply aren’t up to the script’s demands, and she pales alongside Saldaña and Gascón. (Gomez’s Spanish also has been faulted severely, but I can’t judge that.) 

 

It also should be noted that Mexican viewers are enraged by Audiard’s stereotypical depiction of their culture — he made the entire film in France, on sound stages — and GLAAD has branded the story a “step back” for transgender representation.


Whether this matters will be up to individual viewers, and the film is certain to be quite polarizing. There’s no denying the uniqueness of Audiard’s bold vision, but I’m not sure Emilia Pérez ever will find the audience it deserves.

 

Friday, November 8, 2024

Freedom: A captivating romp

Freedom (2024) • View trailer
Four stars (out of five). Not rated, but akin to R for violence, nudity, sensuality and profanity
Available via: Amazon Prime
By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 11.10.24

Director Mélanie Laurent’s new film is a cheeky, rollicking crime saga based on actual events that seem impossible to believe.

 

Bruno Sulak (Lucas Bravo) and lover Annie (Léa Luce Busato) make a formidable
team, but they soon realize that their luck can't hold out forever.

From the summer of 1978 through the early 1980s, France was captivated by the audacious exploits of “gentleman thief” Bruno Sulak, a former paratrooper with the Foreign Legion, who began his criminal career with a series of daytime supermarket robberies.

He was young and cordial, politely asking each check-out clerk to empty her till, while his partner similarly prompted the manager to empty the safe in the upstairs office. Both Sulak and his colleague brandished guns to show they were serious, but never fired them, or roughed up the citizenry; Sulak made a point of non-violence.

 

Coupled with a “shake up the establishment” air of defiance, Sulak quickly developed a reputation as a “Robin Hood of crime,” and was dubbed a real-life Arsène Lupin.

 

A civil understanding apparently existed between the French gendarmes and such low-level criminals, from the late 1960s to the early ’80s; grudging respect existed on both sides, as long as unspoken boundaries remained in place. This attitude was fueled, in part, by disenchantment with the government, and — during those latter years — public pushback against the pro-capitalist policies of newly elected President François Mitterrand.

 

Indeed, Sulak’s initial robberies were cheered by citizens concerned that the explosive growth of supermarkets would drive beloved family shops out of business.

 

Although Laurent and co-scripter Christophe Deslandes acknowledge being inspired by French author Philippe Jaenada’s 2013 book, Sulak, they’ve taken occasional liberties. Bruno’s “outlaw love” Thalie has been reshaped into Annie Bragnier (Léa Luce Busato, in a stylish big-screen debut), who takes a more active role as getaway driver.

 

But the overall arc of Bruno’s crime career is accurate, and the sensuous interludes with Annie enhance what quickly becomes an energetically frothy romp. There’s also a strong echo of 2002’s Catch Me If You Can, due to Sulak’s cat-and-mouse antics with dogged police inspector George Moréas (Yvan Attal).

Friday, October 25, 2024

Woman of the Hour: Riveting and chilling

Woman of the Hour (2023) • View trailer
Four stars (out of five). Not rated, but akin to R for violence, dramatic intensity, leering sexuality and profanity
Available via: Netflix
By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 10.27.24

Screenwriter Ian McDonald’s savvy script for this true crime thriller made the 2017 Top 10 Hollywood “Black List” of as-yet unproduced motion picture screenplays. I’m amazed it took this long to get turned into a film, and impressed by the skill with which Anna Kendrick did so: definitely one of the best, most assured directorial debuts in recent memory.

 

Dating Game host Ed Burke (Tony Hale) and contestant Sheryl Bradshaw (Anna Kendrick)
have no idea that one of her three potential suitors is a serial killer.

The hook that powers this story is a shocking eyebrow lift: On September 13, 1978, on a seemingly average episode of the titillating daytime TV series The Dating Game, nobody had any idea that one of the three male contestants, who fielded bachelorette Cheryl Bradshaw’s deliberately silly (and scripted) questions, was a serial killer and convicted sex offender who already had served a stretch in prison.

It was a simpler time. No background checks were conducted; contestants — of both sexes — were chosen solely on the basis of appearance and personality. (The mind doth boggle ... and a 5-minute clip from that episode is viewable via YouTube.)

 

Kendrick and McDonald structure their film cleverly, opening with a 1977 prologue that takes place in the wide open spaces of Wyoming. A sweetly bashful young woman named Sarah (Kelley Jakle) has allowed herself to be driven to this remote spot, in order to be photographed by Rodney Alcala (Daniel Zovatto).

 

He frames her, lovingly, for several shots ... and everything feels wrong. His smile and words of encouragement are too smarmy; his posture is coiled, like a snake waiting to strike. Poor Sarah is oblivious.

 

The inevitable is awful, and although Kendrick and cinematographer Zach Kuperstein don’t dwell on it exploitatively, the sequence continues long enough to reveal the horrible way that the actual Alcala cruelly toyed with some of his victims, like a cat torturing a mouse.

 

We then leap to 1978 Hollywood, where aspiring actress Sheryl Bradshaw (Kendrick) is auditioning for a bargain-basement role offered by a pair of slimy casting directors (Matty Finochio and Geoff Gustafson). The encounter is embarrassing and dehumanizing; Kendrick’s frozen smile and wounded gaze speak volumes.

 

As becomes clear, when Sheryl later commiserates with neighbor and best (only?) friend Terry (Pete Holmes), she has been struggling with this goal for awhile, with no success. She even has an agent, who eventually gets Sheryl booked onto The Dating Game: a great way to get noticed, she’s promised.

 

Sheryl’s prep and participation in this sexist excuse for daytime entertainment becomes this film’s narrative center: a single-day experience periodically interrupted as the film jumps back and forth in time, to track a few of Rodney’s other ... um ... activities.

Friday, January 19, 2024

Fast Charlie: A briskly paced crime saga

Fast Charlie (2023) • View trailer
3.5 stars (out of five). Rated 18+, for strong bloody violence, gore and frequent profanity
Available via: Amazon Prime and other video-on-demand options

Phillip Noyce’s résumé as a thriller director runs hot and cold; for every Quiet American and The Bone Collector, he has bottomed out with swill such as Sliver and The Desperate Hour

 

Marcie (Morena Baccarin) is completely surprised by an unexpected double-cross,
although Charlie (Pierce Brosnan) had his suspicions. But what will they do about it?


Fast Charlie falls somewhere in between, with Pierce Brosnan’s laconic charm giving Richard Wenk’s bare-bones script more juice than it deserves. The film is adapted loosely from Victor Gischler’s 2001 crime novel, Gun Monkeys, retaining the core plot beats while abandoning the dark humor that finds the author sharing territory with Elmore Leonard and Carl Hiaasen.

Wenk — undoubtedly with input from Brosnan — also has softened the title character. He’s still a ruthless killer, but solely in the service of restoring honor; most notably, the film’s Charlie Swift doesn’t take out cops.

 

The story settles into well-worn territory, with Charlie a career “concierge” — please, don’t call him an “enforcer” — for elderly crime boss Stan Mullen (James Caan, genuinely touching in his final film role). Stan has long controlled Mob operations in Biloxi, Miss., with a well-honed crew that oversees various profitable enterprises. But his memory has been failing with age; Charlie spends every possible moment helping the man he has called a friend for decades.

 

Stan and his crew are family.

 

But the times, they are a-changing. Beggar Johnson (Gbebga Akinnagbe), an ambitious up-and-comer not inclined to patience with The Way Things Have Been Done, has his eye on Stan’s territory.

 

Charlie — an accomplished chef on the side, who loves Italian food — has been contemplating retirement. Under ideal circumstances, he’ll succumb to his long-nurtured dream of buying and restoring an Italian villa. (This is a real thing: One can purchase a property for just 1 euro, with the understanding that it’ll be properly renovated within a specific deadline.)

 

But — wouldn’t you know it — circumstances swiftly cease to be ideal, and Charlie suddenly is faced with scores to settle: the ol’ “one last time” scenario.

 

Friday, September 1, 2023

The Good Mother: Relentlessly bad

The Good Mother (2023) • View trailer
NO STARS. Rated R, for profanity, violence and drug content
Available via: Movie theaters

I cannot imagine why someone of Hilary Swank’s stature signed on to something this dreadful.

 

This isn’t merely a bad film; it’s also badly made. Bizarre camera placement. (Who frames a two-shot so that half of one person is cut off?) Wildly inappropriate choices of music, at bewilderingly wrong moments. Frequent night-time and deserted building set-ups so poorly illuminated that it’s impossible to tell what’s happening.

 

After her son is killed in what appears to be a drug deal gone bad, Marissa (Hilary Swank,
right) reluctantly teams up with his pregnant girlfriend Paige (Olivia Cooke), in order
to figure out what actually went down.
That said, I wish cinematographer Charlotte Hornsby had just left the cap on her camera lens, and fully spared us 90 minutes of misery.

Somebody should rip up Miles Joris-Peyrafitte’s Directors Guild card; he shouldn’t be let near another film shoot. But his feeble efforts at helming this misfire pale when compared to the script he co-wrote with Madison Harrison: absolutely the most ridiculous, atrociously contrived bit of nonsense I’ve seen in years.

 

None of these characters feels genuine. Not even Swank can breathe life into her starring role. The so-called plot lurches forward only because every key character behaves like an imbecile at all times. 

 

The result is nothing but a string of “jump the shark” moments. On top of which, the plot’s supposed “surprise reveal” is blindingly obvious from the start.

 

Marissa (Swank) is a newspaper journalist in Albany, NY, whose career has stalled in the wake of her husband’s death a few years back. (One wonders why she continues to mourn, given that she later admits he was an abusive jerk: merely one of many details this misbegotten script can’t justify.) As the film begins, she’s shattered by the news that her estranged younger son — Michael (Harrison, in a fleeting acting cameo), a drug addict — has just been shot dead.

 

This comes as no real surprise to Marisa’s other son, Toby (Jack Reynor), a police officer who has been tracking the local distribution of fentanyl-laced heroin, and believes that Michael and longtime friend Ducky (Hopper Penn) were involved. When Michael’s seven-months-pregnant girlfriend Paige (Olivia Cooke) shows up at the funeral, Marissa loses control, believing her to be the “bad influence” in Michael’s life.

 

The two women subsequently reach an uneasy alliance — a moment that neither actress can sell — when Paige insists that Ducky couldn’t possibly have killed his best friend; it simply doesn’t make sense.

 

That evening, Paige goes through Michael’s things and finds a suitcase containing two large baggies of heroin. Just as she’s absorbing the implications, two men break into her apartment; she barely escapes with the suitcase. With nowhere else to go, Paige shows up at Marissa’s house, first hiding the suitcase in the front porch crawlspace; she removes oneof the bags (!) and hands it to Marissa and Toby.

 

To Toby’s obvious concern, the two women decide to play Nancy Drew, in order to a) find Ducky; b) determine if he did or didn’t kill Michael; c) find possible witnesses to the young man’s slaying; and d) figure out who broke into Paige’s place.

 

All while everybody mostly ignores the elephant in the room: Marissa’s return slide into alcoholism. (We cringe every time she gets behind the wheel of a car.)

Friday, June 23, 2023

Maggie Moore(s): Dire doings writ dark

Maggie Moore(s) (2023) • View trailer
3.5 stars (out of five). Rated R, for violence, drug use, fleeting nudity, sexual candor and relentless profanity
Available via: Amazon Prime and other streaming services

Director John Slattery and writer Paul Bernbaum are in Coen Brothers territory — most particularly 1996’s Fargo — with this macabre little crime thriller.

 

Rita (Tina Fey) and Sanders (Jon Hamm) would have a hard time connecting under
the best of circumstances; it's even more difficult in the middle of a murder investigation.


The tone veers wildly between larkish and horrifying, the occasional dollops of humor in a dark-dark-dark vein. The story is anchored by star Jon Hamm, note-perfect as an amiable local sheriff trying to focus on his job, but still emotionally reeling from his wife’s untimely death a year ago.

The setting is contemporary, in a small New Mexico desert community. (Filming took place in and around Albuquerque.) A prologue finds Sanders and his deputy, Reddy (Nick Mohammed, immediately recognized from TV’s Ted Lasso), examining the body of a woman killed in a motel parking lot. When ID reveals her name — Maggie Moore — Sanders and Reddy exchange a perplexed look.

 

We then flash back 10 days, and meet Jay Moore (Micah Stock) a hapless schnook who runs a Subway-style chain eatery called Castle Subs, and is unlucky enough to have a wife (Maggie) whose expensive tastes are bleeding him white. As a means of staving off creditors, he has been getting rancid, long-expired meats and cheeses from Liberty Bell Foods, a dodgy outfit run by local slimeball Tommy T (Derek Basco, appropriately smarmy), in exchange for child pornography (!).

 

Jay and Maggie’s frequent screaming matches have been overheard by their next-door neighbor, Rita Grace (Tina Fey).

 

When Jay decides that killing his wife would be the best solution to his financial woes, Tommy T sends him to Kosco (Happy Anderson), a hulking mute whose portion of all conversations are written on yellow legal paper, which he immediately shreds before moving on to his next reply.

 

We don’t see what happens next, but — a day or two later — Reddy discovers a burned-out car with a body inside: charred to little more than a skeleton. When she’s identified as Maggie Moore, Sanders and Reddy naturally have a pointed chat with Jay, whose dismay seems genuine enough.

 

Sanders subsequently learns of the marital strife from Rita, and their mildly flirty banter suggests possibilities. Hamm and Fey are terrific together; her lively sense of smart-assed mischief is well balanced by his world-weary amusement. This role is solidly in Hamm’s wheelhouse, and just as entertaining as his handling of the sardonic title role in last year’s Confess, Fletch. He excels at the deadpan I-don’t-believe-a-word-you’re-saying expression.

Friday, March 17, 2023

Boston Strangler: Riveting true-crime drama

Boston Strangler (2023) • View trailer
Four stars (out of five). Rated R, for profanity and violent content
Available via: Hulu
By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 3.17.23

Writer/director Matt Ruskin’s new film is an excellent companion to last autumn’s She Said.

 

His fact-based account of the early 1960s serial killer is far more honest than its 1968 big-screen predecessor, with Tony Curtis in the title role; it focused exclusively on a lead detective — played by Henry Fonda — who “single-handedly” obtains the murderer’s confession.

 

After Jean Cole (Carrie Coon, left) and Loretta McLaughlin (Keira Knightley) become the
"public face" of the rapidly developing Boston Strangler story, they're soon flooded by
hundreds of letters from women who insist they've been approached by the killer.


That film is, to put it kindly, a work of fiction very loosely inspired by actual events.

It completely ignored the two newspaper journalists who — most crucially — broke the story; recognized the crucial patterns that pointed to a serial killer (a phrase not even coined, at the time); and doggedly pursued subsequent leads … much to the displeasure of the Boston police.

 

Both were women, of course: Boston Record-American journalists Loretta McLaughlin and Jean Cole, played here by (respectively) Keira Knightley and Carrie Coon.

 

We’ve lately been enjoying a welcome surfeit of films that shine a long-overdue light on previously unsung women of major consequence, from 2016’s Queen of Katwe and Hidden Figures, to last year’s The Woman King and She Said (all of which make me wonder how many more equally inspiring stories are waiting to be told).

 

Boston Strangler definitely belongs in their company.

 

Knightley’s McLaughlin is introduced as an ambitious journalist thoroughly bored — and frustrated — by the softball society column fluff to which she has been relegated. Efforts to cover meatier material get shot down by her editor, Jack Maclaine (Chris Cooper, appropriately gruff and grizzled), who is sympathetic but unwilling to budge.

 

The message is clear: “This is simply the way of things.”

 

But McLaughlin continues to follow police reports, and becomes intrigued by the murders of three Boston women, aged 56 to 85, during the latter half of June 1962. Lacking any effective inter-departmental means to share information, and with differing jurisdictional oversight in various parts of the city, the police fail to recognize a common element that links the killings: the fact that all three were strangled with nylon stockings or a bathrobe belt.

 

Another odd detail: None of the apartments showed signs of forced entry, suggesting that the victims either knew the killer, or assumed he was a “trusted” figure such as a building maintenance man, or some other service individual. (We roll our eyes, at the thought of such naïve, innocent times.)

 

McLaughlin wants to pursue this lead; Maclaine won’t have it. But he grudgingly agrees to let her profile the three victims — on her own time — to learn if they had anything else in common.

 

Friday, August 26, 2022

Samaritan: Not worth saving

Samaritan (2022) • View trailer
Two stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, for strong violence and profanity
Available via: Amazon Prime

Well … at least this Sylvester Stallone project is age-appropriate.

 

Director Julius Avery’s fitfully entertaining urban drama is an inner-city spin on the superhero genre, although Bragi F. Schut’s script is far better suited to the graphic novel format that preceded this film by almost a decade. 

 

To the exasperated frustration of Joe (Sylvester Stallone, right), young Sam
(Javon "Wanna" Walton, left) is convinced that his grizzled neighbor actually is a
former superhero, now living incognito.


Either way, Schut’s premise is mildly novel, although the execution leaves much to be desired; viewers will depart this film vexed by a glaring hanging chad.

At its core, this story echoes the famous line from John Ford’s The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance: “When the legend becomes fact, print the legend.”

 

As explained in a comic book-style flashback that introduces this film, Granite City once hosted a pair of supers: the virtuous Samaritan and his equally powered villainous rival, Nemesis. Their ongoing skirmishes climaxed in an epic battle 25 years ago, which claimed both their lives.

 

Since then, much of Granite City has become a crime-infested slum burdened by the disenfranchised and helpless homeless, overrun with greed and corruption, and ruled by roving gangs of criminal thugs.

 

Cinematographer David Ungaro and production designers Greg Berry and Christopher Glass certainly make everything look gritty and grimy.

 

Thirteen-year-old Sam Cleary (Javon “Wanna” Walton), thoroughly absorbed by the legend of Samaritan, has clung to the notion that — somehow — his hero actually survived that clash. This obsession has prompted him to mistakenly assume “superhuman qualities” in a long list of ordinary citizens, much to the annoyance of bookstore owner/journalist Albert Casler (Martin Starr), who has long investigated what actually is known about their city’s former supers.

 

Sam’s fixation also is a burden on his mother, Tiffany (Dascha Polanco), a single parent just barely making ends meet. Indeed, she often doesn’t make them meet, which prompts Sam — against his better judgment — to accept some easy money from local gang lord Cyrus (the hissably evil Pilou Asbæk, well remembered as the similarly vile Euron Greyjoy, in Game of Thrones).

 

Asbæk is totally terrifying, particularly when — with eyes widened and bulging to an almost impossible degree — he leans into somebody else’s face, either with quiet menace or enraged explosions of temper.

 

Sam also has been paying attention to Joe (Stallone), a reclusive garbage collector who repairs broken appliances in an apartment across the street from the boy’s bedroom window. Sam’s curiosity is further piqued when Joe rescues the boy from a beating by a trio of teenage thugs led by Reza (Moises Arias, memorably nasty); the older man handles the punks with eyebrow-lifting ease.

 

Joe rebuffs the boy’s excited curiosity for a time, but a subsequent incident removes all doubt; the older man definitely is an enhanced being.