Recent Streaming Releases: The Little Things, Malcolm & Marie, Judas and the Black Messiah

“The Little Things” is written and directed by John Lee Hancock, based on a screenplay he actually wrote in the 1990s. As a result, the film may feel a little dated since it is set before cell phones, GPS tracking, and computerized forensics—but that is a large part of its charm. “The Little Things” is an old-fashioned serial-killer thriller. 

The film finds veteran manhunter Joe Deacon (Denzel Washington) and hotshot Detective Jim Baxter (Rami Malek) on the case of a serial killer preying upon young women in Kern County, California. They eventually arrive at a suspect—a diabiocial self-confessed crime buff named Albert Sparma (Jared Leto), an amalgam of silver screen psychos like Hannibal Lector and John Doe. Yet Sparma’s guilt is much less apparent as Leto portrays him with the perfect blend of cheerfulness and menace. Mismatched partners hunting a serial killer is certainly a genre trope at this point, but since “The Little Things” was penned 30 years ago, it is hard to label the film “derivative” with serious conviction.

“The Little Things” may seem drenched in genre clichés established by “The Silence of the Lambs” and echoed in Fincher greats like “Seven” and “Zodiac,” but Hancock’s film embraces these clichés in an entertaining and thrilling way. This is true until the film’s strikingly suspenseful third act, which subverts the genre’s typical ending and sets the “The Little Things” apart from its predecessors. 

The film’s final passage features an ambiguous resolution that will not likely appease many viewers. But rather than just fitting all the final pieces together like most serial-killer dramas, Hancock is more interested in something far more elusory and gutsy—the effects and moral implications of murder. Is Sparma actually guilty or is he merely taking credit for the murders, and does it truly matter? The film thrives in this psychological complexity and morally ambiguous territory. On top of that, whatever issues “The Little Things” has, its trio of great performances from Oscar winners goes a long way towards overcoming them.

7/10

Malcolm & Marie

On the surface, “Malcolm & Marie” is visually stunning due to its high-contrast black-and-white cinematography, but underneath it is a verbal cacophony that fiercely examines everything from narcissism, intimacy, inspiration, and authenticity. John David Washington and Zendaya turn in virtuoso performances as the titular characters in this heavy two-hander.

Written and directed by Sam Levinson, the creator of HBO’s Euphoria and son of Oscar-winning “Rain Man” director Barry Levinson, “Malcolm & Marie” seems very personal for the filmmaker, especially when you consider its premise is plucked straight from his life—he once forgot to thank his wife, Ashley Levinson, who is also a producer on “Malcolm & Marie,” at the premiere of his 2018 film “Assassination Nation.” Malcolm’s references to “the white girl from the LA Times” also seem personal since LA Times critic Katie Walsh previously panned Levinson’s aforementioned feature.

Since “Malcolm & Marie” revolves around the plight of a filmmaker, many might dismiss it for only being concerned with industry minutiae. But any film lover should be able to find enjoyment in this aspect of the story, such as Malcolm’s nearly 3-minute breathless rant on film criticism and the double standards at play regarding black filmmakers and the white savior trope—Washington’s bravura on full display. “Malcolm & Marie” may bill itself as a film about a couple’s relationship, but it is just as much about cinema itself. 

Authenticity in art is a point of emphasis in the couples’ argument, which Maire considers to be “key” but Malcom believes “doesn’t matter” and instead values perspective. While some might see Levinson’s latest work to be an exercise in self-indulgence, it is hard to deny its authenticity. Levinson proves that with a thoughtful script, two phenomenal actors, and a limited set and crew, you can make an intense and entertaining self-contained drama, free of gimmickry, that will likely stand out in history for its ingenuity, but also as one of the first feature films made under entirely COVID-compliant conditions.

9/10

Judas and the Black Messiah

Shaka King’s historical drama depicts the unbelievable true story of Illinois Black Panther Party Chairman Fred Hampton (Daniel Kaluuya) and the role his own head of security William O’Neal (LaKeith Stanfield) played in his assassination by law enforcement. While audiences will certainly be familiar with the fiery orator Hampton was, they likely have not been acquainted with his counterpart O’Neal, a car thief turned paid informant by sly FBI agent Roy Mitchell (Jesse Plemons). 

The duplicitous O’Neal turns out to be a wonderfully complex character and the backbone of the film’s conflict. At times, “Judas and the Black Messiah” plays out like a crime thriller due to its white-knuckle intensity, but its chilling climax points to it being a tragedy at heart. With “The Trial of the Chicago 7” and “One Night in Miami” coming before, “Judas and the Black Messiah” acts as the third chapter in a trio of companion pieces chronicling Black Panther activism of the 1960s—an indication that historical filmmaking is not only alive, but flourishing.

7.5/10

Christmas Releases: The Midnight Sky, Wonder Woman 1984

The Midnight Sky

Directed by George Clooney and written by Mark L. Smith (“The Revenant”), “The Midnight Sky” seems like an amalgam of some of their past work and other popular sci-fi films, a few of which Clooney has acknowledged as influences, including “Gravity” and “The Revenant.” At first glance, there is also a bit of “Interstellar” and a lot of “The Road” in the mix. The similarities with Cormac McCarthy’s 2006 novel are stark indeed—a dying man and child bond as they trek across a post-apocalyptic landscape—though these are not just superficial homages. Despite its obvious borrowing, “The Midnight Sky” boasts a unique identity of its own.  

The year is 2049 and humanity is being wiped out by “the event,” though not many details are given. In his first feature film role since 2016, Clooney delivers a memorable performance as Augustine Lofthouse—a lone scientist at an Arctic observatory suffering from a terminal illness. Appearing grizzled and gaunt, Clooney’s physical transformation and commitment to the role is as striking as his performance. The actor was reportedly hospitalized with pancreatitis after losing nearly 30 pounds.

Though he is no stranger to space, Clooney remains earthbound in “The Midnight Sky.” After Augustine finds a mute girl named Iris (Caoilinn Springall) left behind at the base, she must accompany him on his journey across the Arctic Circle to find an antenna powerful enough to warn the crew aboard the spacecraft Aether that Earth has become uninhabitable. Aboard the ship, most notably, is the pregnant Sully (Felicity Jones) and her partner Commander Adewole (David Oyelowo).

While the film does not always oscillate nimbly between these two storylines, it does not fail at sparking intrigue. There are also a few flashbacks to a younger Augustine (Ethan Peck) and his love interest Jean (Sophie Rundle), none of which make much sense until the third-act twist. Even though it may verge on predictable, it is emotionally impactful nonetheless. The result is a successful and satisfying culmination of storylines. 

Like a few recent space dramas, “The Midnight Sky” is quiet and somber, but it does not fall flat or become lethargic like “Ad Astra.” This is in large part due to the cross-cutting between storylines and masterfully tense space-based repair sequence—clearly demonstrating the influence “Gravity” and Alfonso Cuarón had on Clooney. With “The Midnight Sky,” Clooney and Smith have accomplished something rare and difficult—a mainstream sci-fi film that is entertaining while simultaneously focusing on thoughtful themes like human connection and the end of civilization on Earth.

7/10

Wonder Woman 1984

Though it may be considered an adage at this point, the late Chadwick Boseman said, “A superhero movie is only as great as its villains,” and that has never been more apparent than in the highly anticipated sequel “Wonder Woman 1984.” The film touts villains who are cheesy and uninspired, the first of whom is the ditzy Dr. Barbara Minerva (Kristen Wiig), Diana’s (Gal Gadot) new colleague at the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C. While Wiig undoubtedly possesses the guile to portray an off-beat and tenderhearted researcher, she is tragically miscast as the villainess Cheetah. 

At the lab, Barb stumbles across a mysterious ancient stone that immediately grants wishes—the film’s main plot device which seems plucked straight out of a trite comedy flick. In awe of Diana, Barb wishes to be just like her, while Diana unknowingly uses the dreamstone to wish her old pilot friend Steve (Chris Pine) was still around, which is how the film shoehorns Diana’s old flame back into the narrative after having sacrificed himself in the first film. The main villain featured in “1984” is Maxwell Lord (Pedro Pascal), a cartoonishly evil oil tycoon who wants the magic wishing stone for himself. Though the film tries hard to be an indictment of greed, instant gratification, and American entitlement, its premise is just plain boring and banal.

While “Wonder Woman” seemed to have the perfect tonal balance of heart, action, humor, and romance, “1984” seems content riding off of ‘80s pizzazz and Gadot’s charm, charisma, and beauty, who once again nails the role. Another bright spot is the film’s first two action sequences—a flashback to a young Diana competing in an Amazonian strength and skills challenge on Themiscyra which is soon followed by Wonder Woman nixing a heist at a shopping mall—both shot and scored gloriously by Patty Jenkins and Hans Zimmer respectively. But these are not enough to save the film, especially the third act, from being a meandering, tonal mess.

4/10

Mank

“Are you familiar with the parable of the organ grinder’s monkey?” the powerful media mogul William Randolph Hearst (Charles Dance) asks the titular Mank (Gary Oldman) after a night of drunken revelry. Understanding this parable is crucial to understanding the key relationship found in Fincher’s latest flick, “Mank,” which chronicles veteran writer Herman J. Mankiewicz’s development of the screenplay for “Citizen Kane,” now widely considered to be the greatest film ever made. 

David Fincher’s first feature film since 2014’s “Gone Girl” is, at least on the surface, about classical Hollywood and Mankiewicz racing to finish a script in just sixty days and nearly having credit stolen from him by 24-year-old Orson Welles, (Tom Burke) the director and star of “Citizen Kane,” but these storylines take a backseat to the genesis of the classic 1941 film. 

Rather, “Mank” is about why he wrote “Citizen Kane,” which can largely be attributed to his relationships with newspaper tycoon and movie producer William Randolph Hearst, who later became the inspiration for the character Charles Foster Kane, and actress Marion Davies (Amanda Seyfried), Hearst’s much younger mistress. To Hearst, Mank is the court fool while audiences are likely to see him as an alcoholic egghead. On the other hand, Mank considers Hearst his great white whale. “Just call me Ahab,” he says.  

Unlike Tarantino’s “Once Upon a Time… In Hollywood,” “Mank” portrays Old Hollywood with a much more serious and less affectionate tone, which in turn is much more appealing intellectually rather than emotionally. Just like the classic film it imitates, “Mank” is a scathing critique of the tycoon class, Hollywood elite, and undercurrents of self-absorption and pettiness, predominantly represented by Hearst. 

Although “Mank” is about more than Hollywood bigwigs and studio politics. At the film’s core is the 1934 California gubernatorial election between conservative Frank Merriam and famous muckraker Upton Sinclair (Bill Nye, surprisingly). Mankiewicz fervently argues a socialist perspective and supports Sinclair while Hearst and other studio heads support the Republican candidate as each pull strings in an attempt to influence the election. Hearst goes as far to fund a smear campaign by MGM intended to discredit Sinclair. As Fincher puts it, Hearst “sort of pioneered fake news.”

With a screenplay penned by David’s late father Jack, “Mank” employs a flashback structure reminiscent of “Citizen Kane.” Its present tense being 1940 when Mank is bedridden in a remote bungalow in Victorville after breaking his leg in a car accident. With him is British amanuensis Rita Alexander (Lily Collins), German nurse Frieda (Monika Gossmann), producer John Houseman (Sam Troughton), and a surreptitious stash of liquor. As Mank dictates to Rita, she begins to wonder about the subject of the script, triggering a series of flashbacks beginning with Mank’s first encounter with Hearst in 1930. 

After reading the first draft of the screenplay titled “American,” Houseman expresses concern that Mank’s dense and nonlinear narrative may be too complicated for audiences to follow and the same could also be said about “Mank.” It suffers from the very thing Mankiewicz warns against, “You cannot capture a man’s entire life in two hours. All you can hope is to leave the impression of one.” That is all the film has to offer—impressions, which is not inherently a criticism. Despite Fincher’s grander scope, there is a fascinating character study somewhere beneath all the layers and Mank is an ideal subject—a tortured yet good-hearted soul who manages to charm and alienate just about everyone he comes in contact with.

A richly layered and opportune examination of the interrelationship between entertainment, media, and politics replete with classical Hollywood lore, lush black-and-white cinematography, and an old-timey score from Fincher regulars Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, “Mank” has all the makings of an Oscar favorite and is a must-see for true film lovers, even though it may not be entirely emotionally fulfilling.

7.5/10

The Trial of the Chicago 7

“The Trial of the Chicago 7” is the latest film written and directed by the inimitable Aaron Sorkin and his first courtroom drama since “A Few Good Men.” The film is centered around the trial of the titular Chicago Seven, protesters who were accused of conspiracy and inciting riots at the 1968 Democratic National Convention in Chicago. But as Sorkin says, the film is not intended to be about 1968, it is meant to be about today. A timely examination of civil unrest, police brutality, political polarization, and the demonization of protests in the lead-up to a presidential election, the story of “The Trial of the Chicago 7” took place fifty years ago, yet it feels eerily and unsettlingly topical.

Similar to Spike Lee’s “Da 5 Bloods,” the film begins with a montage of archival footage that provides context for the turbulent ’60s—LBJ doubling the monthly draft, the televised draft lottery, and the assassinations of MLK and RFK. Then, in signature Sorkin fashion, we are introduced to our heroes at a breakneck pace. They are a motley crew of prominent political radicals and antiwar activists who are planning to protest the Vietnam War at the Democratic Convention, but hardly know one another.

There is Tom Hayden (Eddie Redmayne), the pragmatic leader of Students for a Democratic Society, Abbie Hoffman (Sacha Baron Cohen) and Jerry Rubin (Jeremy Strong), a pair of goofy wisecracking radicals from the Youth International Party, commonly called Yippies, David Dellinger (John Carroll Lynch), a fatherly pacifist and Boy Scout leader, and Bobby Seale (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II), the leader of the Black Panther Party. Another member of the seven, Lee Weiner (Noah Robbins), acknowledges that the trial “is the Academy Awards of protests and it’s an honor just to be nominated.”

The repartee between this eclectic bunch of activists is sharp and sardonic, from Abbie teasing Tom for getting a haircut for court, to Hoffman expressing the need for “Real revolution. Cultural revolution” to which Hayden chides, “I don’t have time for cultural revolution. It distracts from actual revolution.” The seven are represented by liberal activist attorney William Kunstler (Mark Rylance) while the case is prosecuted by the conflicted Richard Schultz (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) who doubts the defendants should even be on trial. The ironclad and irascible Judge Julius Hoffman (Frank Langella) presides over the case and hands out contempt of court violations like candy.

The film’s approach is straightforward, verging on a docudrama, as Sorkin’s script is interspersed with lines from the real court transcripts, such as when Schultz questions Abbie on the stand regarding his intentions to which he retorts, “I’ve never been on trial for my thoughts before.” The film gracefully cross-cuts between the trial, defense strategy sessions, black-and-white archival footage, and re-creations of the horrific riots shot by cinematographer Phedon Papamichael (“Ford v Ferrari”) in locations where the actual events took place.

Like much of Sorkin’s work, “The Trial of the Chicago 7” is not just a fascinating lesson in civics and history, it is an entertaining and exhilarating ride featuring a plethora of great performances. The acclaimed screenwriter does take some liberties and rearrange the actual timeline of events, such as the final scene which lands as a classic gooseflesh-inducing Sorkin moment, replete with a swarm of sentimentality, a swelling orchestra, and ends on a crescendo of emotion. 

Sorkin’s recent films have focused on cold and calculating characters such as Zuckerberg, Jobs, and “Poker Princess” Molly Bloom but in his most recent work, he returns to the milieu of politically passionate and charming characters reminiscent of those in “The West Wing.” “The Trial of the Chicago 7” is powerful, particularly resonant right now, and arguably Sorkin’s best since “The Social Network.”

9/10

September Releases: Tenet, I’m Thinking of Ending Things, The Devil All the Time

Tenet

The concept of time travel can be confusing on its own, but Nolan takes it to another level in his most recent film “Tenet” by introducing the idea of inversion, the ability to move backward through time. This incoherent concept is only exacerbated by the fact that about 30 percent of the film’s dialogue is inaudible, drowned out by Ludwig Göransson’s exhilarating, yet blaring score and a deafening barrage of explosions and other sound. To make matters worse, much of the dialogue is spoken through thick oxygen masks. Considering the past ordeal with Bane’s muffled voice in “The Dark Knight Rises,” Nolan apparently does not hear sound like the rest of us do.

“Tenet” is the tenth film written and directed by Christopher Nolan. In the broadest sense, it is about time travel, specifically inverted entropy which allows characters to move backward through time. Early on, the film attempts to explain this cockamamie concept, “You’re not shooting the bullet. You’re catching it,” a scientist (Clémence Poésy) explains to the Protagonist. “Don’t try to understand it. Feel it,” she also instructs him, perhaps the most sage advice a viewer could receive going into “Tenet.” 

To summarize the plot in simple terms, the lead character who is only referred to as the Protagonist (John David Washington) and his debonair sidekick Neil (Robert Pattinson) are part of a secret team called Tenet who are trying to prevent the world from ending. They enlist the help of a British art dealer Kat (Elizabeth Debicki), the estranged wife of a Russian oligarch Sator (Kenneth Branagh) who is the man behind some type of “Algorithm” that is capable of catastrophically inverting the entire world, but it is essentially just a MacGuffin. 

The film’s opening sequence is a captivating one, as the Protagonist thwarts a terrorist attack on a Kiev opera house as part of a CIA team. However, this scene immediately introduces the film’s most prominent points of contention—inaudible dialogue, horrid sound mixing, and indecipherable plot points. This is surprising since complexity is not normally an issue, but rather an asset for Nolan’s films.

“Tenet” is a visual spectacle that is conceptually fascinating when it is not downright incomprehensible but unfortunately, it is also emotionally distant. Many of the characters are hollow, with inner lives that are left unexplored, with the exception of Kat. Washington and Pattinson’s characters excel at times because of their natural charisma but do not feel fleshed out. Nolan, who excels as a visionary filmmaker, can sometimes become too preoccupied with glitz and grandeur to carefully develop characters. Nolan is consistently one of the most unique and imaginative filmmakers in Hollywood, but “Tenet” is just too convoluted and disorienting to be lauded.

5/10

I’m Thinking of Ending Things

“I’m Thinking of Ending Things” is the latest film from cerebral filmmaker Charlie Kaufman, an adaptation of Iain Reid’s novel of the same name, Kaufman’s first since “Adaptation” in 2002, a meta film about his hardships adapting “The Orchid Thief” to the screen. “Being John Malkovich” and “Eternal Sunshine” were deep plunges into the inner recesses of the mind and “I’m Thinking of Ending Things” is no different. What begins as a meet-the-parents road trip quickly morphs into a surreal genre-shifting hodgepodge of cultural references and flights of fantasy, including a ballet sequence, a rendition of a number from “Oklahoma!” and a recitation of the speech from “A Beautiful Mind.”

Jake (Jesse Plemons) has invited his girlfriend Lucy (Jessie Buckley) to his parents’ secluded farmhouse in downstate New York. Lucy goes along even though she is thinking of ending things, which she admits via voice-over, yet Jake appears to be able to hear these thoughts. Early on, Plemons delivers one of the film’s most significant lines, “It’s good to remind yourself the world’s larger than the inside of your own head,” since the film provides no guarantee the world it depicts exists outside of someone’s head, yet it does pose the question of whose.

During a long drive through a snowstorm, Jake and Lucy converse in a litany of literary references and quotations, from William Wordsworth to Oscar Wilde and David Foster Wallace. The feeling of being trapped in a claustrophobic space with this couple in their constant pontification and Kaufman’s stream of consciousness can become fatiguing for the viewer. However, once the couple reaches Jake’s childhood home, the film’s impression of time and reality begins to mutate and the basic details of the film begin to shift—Lucy’s name might actually be Lucia or Louisa, while her occupation may be a scientist, poet, artist, or waitress. The tone also changes to resemble a horror film—the farm is full of dead lambs and the house itself is foreboding.

Lucy finally meets his parents (Toni Collette and David Thewlis) who are caricatures of the overbearing, overly talkative, verging on mentally unbalanced, and culturally withdrawn parents, all the makings for an awkward dinner. Though, Kaufman is a master of turning this awkwardness into comedy. After dinner, Lucy saunters from room to room seemingly on a journey through time, encountering Jake’s parents at different points in their lives from younger versions of themselves to elderly dementia patients. This is sure to be puzzling for the viewer but nonetheless moving. This kind of psychodrama that mines the subconscious for its fear of aging, loneliness, and decay has defined Kaufman’s career and “I’m Thinking of Ending Things” is perhaps his strangest and most uncompromising work to date.

8/10

The Devil All the Time

“The Devil All the Time” is a sprawling drama from Netflix featuring a star-studded cast. It is based on a Donald Ray Pollock novel of the same name who provides perfect voice-over narration throughout the film. Set in 1957 and 1965 in the rural towns of Coal Creek, West Virginia and Knockemstiff, Ohio, the film tells multiple intersecting storylines—a troubled marine Willard Russell (Bill Skarsgard) and his wife Charlotte (Haley Bennett), a serial-killer couple (Jason Clarke and Riley Keough), a corrupt sheriff (Sebastian Stan), and a high-pitched and prurient preacher Preston Teagardin (Robert Pattinson), who only shows up about an hour into the movie. The film may boast just a few too many characters to do them all justice. 

After the film introduces this assortment of sinners and scoundrels, it centers around a primary character, Arvin Russell (Tom Holland) and effectively becomes a coming-of-age story, though it is not short on violence and harrowing deaths. The film is a stark indictment of behavior motivated by faith alone. Many characters pray for God’s help and even go as far to make blood sacrifices, yet he is nowhere to be found. All that is left is human beings, and “The Devil All the Time” brilliantly basks in their depravity.

7/10