The spirit of Quentin Tarantino hangs heavy over “Stegman is Dead,” a down ‘n dirty action thriller from director David Hyde. Quirky characters, a badass female assassin and bent morality blend to create a queasy cocktail that feels like the stepchild of Tarantino and every 1990s crime thriller that followed in the wake of “Pulp Fiction.”
When the title character, the late not-so-great Stegman, tries to finance his burgeoning porno empire by blackmailing Don (Michael Ironside) and his former gang of thugs with a VHS surveillance tape of ten-year old crime. Rather than pay up Don decides to take a more hands on approach, sending his henchmen to retrieve the tape only to find Stegman, ventilated with bullets.
With Stegman out of the way the blackmail is done but what about the tapes? Desperate to get his hands on them Don calls safecracker Gus (Michael Eklund), a married career criminal whose wife Diana (Andrea del Campo) is a MILFChat.com model and not pleased about the situation. Ambitious, she wants Gus to forget about Don and graduate to bigger and better crimes to afford them and their adorable six-year old daughter (Linnea Moffat) a more lavish life.
Add to that mysterious assassin Evy (Bernice Liu) and you have a film that feels like a throwback to quirky crime thrillers like “2 Days in the Valley” and “Things to Do in Denver When You’re Dead.”
The Winnipeg shot “Stegman is Dead” makes the most of its limited palate. It’s derivative for sure but director David Hyde brings enough verve the filmmaking to keep things interesting. Stars Eklund and Liu mostly play it straight and don’t allow the story’s eccentricity to weigh down their performances. Ironside is reliable as always while others play into the movie’s wackiness when they aren’t dodging bullets.
“Stegman is Dead” is a darkly funny b-movie that embraces its b-movieness. There’s a subtext about the importance of family but this isn’t really about that or the heist or Stegman as much it is about entertaining the audience for ninety minutes.
This weekend the Orient Express pulls into the station, bringing with it murder and mayhem. Murder on the Orient Express features an all-star cast including Johnny Depp, Dame Judi Dench and Daisy Ridley. Directed by and co-starring Kenneth Branagh as Belgian detective Hercule Poirot, the often-filmed mystery is based on the book of the same name by Agatha Christie first published in 1934.
The sensational story of a murder —13 strangers on the luxury train and an investigator’s race to solve the puzzle before the killer strikes again — is Christie’s best-known novel, but it is just one of 66 detective novels she penned in a career that spanned more than five decades.
“I think people have been pretty tough on her,” Branagh told The Guardian. “They’re suspicious of the volume of her output.”
It’s true that the author’s omnipresence on bookshelves, 20th century household-name status and massive popularity — over two billion copies of her books have been sold worldwide making her one of the bestselling authors ever — didn’t endear her to the literary elite, but Branagh sees her differently.
“Personally I admire the prolific nature of what she does … her ability to grab the audience’s attention is really striking,” he said. “The surface of what she writes has led people to dismiss her as a second-rater. But I think she is far more than that.”
Christie’s public persona was that of a button-down grandmother with a macabre imagination, but she led a remarkable life.
In an essay for Radio Times, Branagh writes, “This was a woman full of surprises.” He goes on to describe how the author became the first British female surfer to hang ten in Hawaii. “It was 1922,” he writes. “She was fully upright, scantily clad, and 32 years old.”
In her own words Christie says she wore a “wonderful, skimpy emerald green wool bathing dress, which was the joy of my life, and in which I thought I looked remarkably well!”
Another episode from her storied life feels like it could have been ripped out of the pages of one of her books. The year was 1926. Christie was on the verge of a divorce from her first husband when she vanished, leaving behind only her abandoned car, an expired driver’s licence and some clothes.
Already considered a national treasure, her mysterious disappearance was front-page news. Some thought it was a publicity stunt, others wondered if she was trying to frame her husband for murder.
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, creator of Sherlock Holmes, tried to solve the mystery with the help of a psychic. When Christie re-emerged 11 days later, after living under an assumed name in a small hotel, she offered no clues as to what had happened.
One popular theory suggests the Queen of Crime had fallen into a psychogenic trance. In the book The Finished Portrait, biographer Andrew Norman sites the adoption of a new personality and “failure to recognise herself in newspaper photographs” as signs that she was depressed and had fallen into a fugue state.
Christie never publicly commented on those missing days, not even in her official biography.
Now, 91 years later the mystery will likely never be solved. So much time has passed that not even Christie’s greatest creation, Murder On The Orient Express’s master detective Hercule Poirot, could get to the bottom of this mystery.
Who says there are no new ideas in Hollywood? A week ago we had “A Bad Mom’s Christmas,” the heart-warming (or should that be heartburning) tale of three young moms trying to make Christmas perfect for their families until their mothers crash the scene bringing with them expectations and judgement.
This week along comes “Daddy’s Home 2,” the story of two men Dusty (Mark Wahlberg) and Brad (Will Ferrell), a father and stepfather who just want Christmas to be perfect for the adorable kids they share. It all goes well until Dusty’s rough-around-the-edges father (Mel Gibson) and Brad’s lovey-dovey dad (John Lithgow) both come to town.
One stars women, the other, men. You’re not having déjà vu, they’re completely different, see?
When we last saw Dusty and Brad they asked a very simple question, What do kids need more, a father or a dad? Anyone can be a father, the opening narration tells us, but it takes real work to be a dad. Dusty is the mild mannered stepfather to Brad’s biological children. What’s Dusty like? “Imagine if Jesse James and Mick Jagger had a baby,” says his ex-wife Sarah (Linda Cardellini). “He sounds like a rascal,” says Brad.
The kids adore Brad because he’s more fun but Dusty, though uptight and dull, is always there when the kids need him. By the time the end credits roll the two have figured out an uneasy dente in the co-parenting game.
This time around it’s Christmas and the co-dads are determined to make it perfectly cool yule for the kids. “I got as big surprise,” says Brad. “This year, no more back and forth at Christmas. A together Christmas like a normal family.” The stressful time is made more stressful when the grandfathers show up, turning the cool yule into a blue Christmas.
For most of its running time I thought “Daddy’s Home 2” was the laziest comedy of the year. Then I thought all the way back to last week’s screening of “A Bad Moms Christmas” and I remembered—even though I tried to forget—what little effort that movie put into story, jokes… well, just about everything.
Then something else happened, after an hour and twenty minutes of uninspired comedy seemingly Xeroxed on Christmas wrapping from the 2015 original film, “Daddy’s Home 2” manages to turn from lump of coal to a diamond. At least for a few minutes. It’s too little too late, but you will leave the theatre with a grin.
Now for the elephant in the room; Gibson is a major character, eating up screen time like Santa chowing down on gingerbread cookies. In a completely charmless and grating performance he plays Dusty’s snickering dad as a man who thinks everyone not with his last name is a snowflake. He encourages his young grandson to slap a little girl on the bum and tells the kids a joke that begins with, “Two hookers walk into a bar.” If you didn’t want to see the movie because of him, this is not the performance that will win you over.
“Daddy’s Home 2” gets some things right. When the middle daughter continuously turns up the thermostat so she can be warm while she sleeps with the window open, it ignites a thermostat war that will be familiar to anyone who has ever paid a heating bill. When the movie latches on to those moments, it works. When it doesn’t, it’s as stale as last year’s fruitcake.
Agatha Christie’s story of murder and mayhem and a moustachioed detective comes to vivid life on the big screen with, as they used to say, more stars than there are in the heavens. Penélope Cruz, Willem Dafoe, Judi Dench, Johnny Depp, Josh Gad, Derek Jacobi, Leslie Odom Jr., Michelle Pfeiffer and Daisy Ridley play travellers on the luxurious train and all are suspected of doing a dastardly deed by Hercule Poirot, the legendary Belgium detective played by director and star Kenneth Branagh.
Set in 1934, a time when women wore afternoon dresses, men donned flat hats and the Orient Express was seen as the epitome of first-class steam-age travel. Poirot, looking for peace and quiet, some downtime between cases, joins the Orient Express in Istanbul, heading for Calais for a much-needed holiday. “Three days free of care, concern the crime,” says friend Bouc (Tom Bateman).
On board is a colourful collection of characters. There’s Russian Princess Dragomiroff (Judi Dench) and her obedient maid Hildegarde Schmidt (Olivia Colman); the racist German academic Gerhard Hardman (Willem Dafoe); “husband huntering” American widow Mrs. Hubbard (Michelle Pfeiffer); the troubled Countess Andrenyi (Lucy Boynton) and her ballet star husband, Russian dancer Count Andrenyi (Sergei Polunin); Spanish missionary Pilar Estravados (Penélope Cruz); British governess Mary Debenham (Daisy Ridley) and American art dealer Ratchett (Johnny Depp), his butler, Masterman (Derek Jacobi) and private secretary, Hector MacQueen (Josh Gad). “There’s nothing like a triangle of strangers pressed together on a train with no purpose but to go from one place to another.”
One of them is murdered and one is a murderer. Vacation or not, there is a crime to be solved and only one man for the job. “My name is Hercule Poirot,” says the elaborately moustachioed detective, “and I am probably the greatest detective in the world.” Thus the “Avenger of the Innocent” goes fishing for clues in a barrel of red herrings.
Lush production design and old school story telling gives this version of “Murder on the Orient Express” a Masterpiece Theatre vibe. It is a parade of great faces and attention to period details with a slight updating in the character’s ideas about race but while the train may be speeding along on tracks of steel, the story isn’t.
Branagh revels in the deduction phase of the tale, shining a spotlight on Poirot’s process. He’s a great character and Branagh is clearly having a good time playing him but his larger-than-life presence sucks much of the air out of the room, leaving the others gasping. Individually the sprawling cast aren’t given much to do, many reduced to little more than cameo appearances. The real mystery is why Branagh would assemble such a stellar cast and then not give them anything to do.
Even more frustrating are several of Branagh’s stylistic choices. Beautiful sets, and frequently, beautiful performers are obscured by odd cinematography. Pfeiffer’s big entrance is shot in an impressive tracking shot that spends more time showing the outside of the train than the actors. Later a crucial revelation is inexplicably shot from above, showing only the backs of the actor’s heads. The camera is almost constantly in motion and while it helps create a sense of forward movement it can be distracting. However, when it focuses on the period details it is a pleasure to gaze upon.
At its core “Murder on the Orient Express” does end with a morally interesting question but doesn’t spend enough time with its characters—save for the great detective who is clearly being set to be the focus of a franchise—for us to get fully invested in whodunit in question.
On paper the teen angst of “Lady Bird”—teen heartbreak, mom issues and blossoming sexuality—sounds like something we’ve seen before. “Where’s Molly Ringwald?” you might ask. And yet, though this may be well-trod ground, writer-director Greta Gerwig’s semi-autobiographical look at her California upbringing hits the ground running. It feels fresh, simultaneously heartfelt and spirited.
(NOTE TO READER: This synopsis does not do the movie justice. Feel free to skip the next two paragraphs.)
Saoirse Ronan is Christine McPherson, a Catholic School teen who goes by the name Lady Bird. “Lady Bird. Is that your given name,” Father Leviatch (Stephen Henderson) asks. “It is,” she replies. “I gave it to myself.” She lives in Sacramento—“The Midwest of California.”—with mother Marion (Laurie Metcalf), unemployed father Larry (Tracy Letts) and two adopted siblings. She’s a theatre kid who, along with her best friend Julie (Beanie Feldstein), performs in plays, plan for their future college careers and develop crushes on cute classmates.
Lady Bird learns about life and love through dalliances with two boys; the sweet natured Danny (Lucas Hedges) and edgy rocker dude Kyle (Timothée Chalamet). The key relationship in her life, however, is her mother. The two are deeply connected yet cannot see eye-to-eye, especially when it comes to Lady Bird’s choice of university.
Gerwig’s skilful handling of the story of Lady Bird’s busy senior year works not just because it’s unvarnished and honest in its look at becoming an adult but also, in a large degree, to Ronan’s performance. I have long called her ‘Lil Meryl. She’s an actor of unusual depth, a young person (born in 1994) with an old soul. Lady Bird is almost crushed by the weight of uncertainty that greets her with every turn—will her parents divorce, will there be money for school, will Kyle be the boy of her dreams, will she ever make enough cash to repay her parents for her upbringing—but Ronan keeps her nimble, sidestepping teen ennui with a complicated mix of snappy one liners, hard earned wisdom and a well of emotion. It’s tremendous, Academy Award worthy work.
“Lady Bird” bangs familiar gongs but Gerwig and Ronan, with ample help from the supporting cast, help those notes resonate loudly and clearly. The material is tenderly observed on both sides of the camera, imbued with a refreshingly genuine point of view.
“My Friend Dahmer” is a first hand account of the world’s most famous serial killer’s troubled high school years. The up-close-and-personal look is based on a graphic novel and memoir by artist John “Derf” Backderf, a childhood friend of the future cannibal.
“Jeff’s a little off, right?” “Yeah,” says Derf (Alex Wolff), “that’s what we like about him.” The guys are talking about their classmate’s habit of “spazzing out to the max.” Outwardly he’s like a lot of teenagers. Shy and bullied, he acts out in public to make up for the attention he doesn’t get at home.
Privately it’s a different story. An unhealthy interest in roadkill and binge drinking point to the inner demons that would eventually consume him and push him to kill and consume seventeen people between 1978 and 1991.
“My Friend Dahmer” effectively captures Dahmer’s extreme teen angst. Like John Hughes with deep psychological undercurrents, it is a picture of regular American life with a twist. At its heart is former Disney Channel star Lynch. His broodingly empathetic performance haunts the film, building tension as Dahmer becomes disconnected from his family—mentally ill mother (Anne Heche) and ineffective father (Dallas Roberts)—and friends.
It’s a remarkable performance that hits all the notes. When asked what line of work he wants to get into he replies, straight-faced, “biology.” It’s a funny line delivered with just enough chill to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Later, when he tries to convince a classmate to go to the prom with him he says, “You want to seem normal, right?” Those words hang heavy in the air as Dahmer slowly loses his grip.
“My Friend Dahmer” builds to a chilling climax that will make you lean forward in your seat but never really pulls back the layers of the killer’s psyche. Lynch’s tortured soul routine is well realized but the film never gets too far past blaming the parents for the deeds of the child.
You will be amazed at the level of intimacy the filmmakers behind the documentary Dina are able to achieve. The story of a middle-aged woman preparing to marry her boyfriend benefits from the level of access awarded to co-directors Dan Sickles and Antonio Santini but is deepened by the fact that the bride and groom are on the autism spectrum.
“Dina has known me since before I was born,” says Sickles. “My dad met her because he was her teacher in high school. Around the time she graduated he started a group for adults with developmental disabilities called the Abingdon Kiwanis Aktion Club. I grew up going to these meetings so I have known Dina all my life.
“I lost my dad back in 2013 and because of that Antonio and I ended up going back to Philadelphia to continue post-production on our first film. It was only a few months after that when she started telling me about Scott and that he had proposed. The film really began from this opening created by my dad’s loss.”
The cinéma vérité doc follows Dina Buno and Scott Levin. She is a 48-year-old widow with Asperger’s syndrome, obsessive-compulsive disorder and depression, who has lived on her own for decades. He is a security guard at Walmart with Asperger’s who loves singing and still lives at home. We witness their courtship as they navigate through complicated feelings regarding his disinterest in sex—she gives him a copy of The Joy of Sex to help fire his imagination—and their future life together. A revelation regarding Dina’s traumatic past sheds light on her hypersensitive temperament.
“I wouldn’t say there were moments where we viewed what was happening on camera through the lens of exploitation,” says Sickles. “I think if you are going to make a film about a couple that is based on a real life relationship you have to be willing to go to uncomfortable places and moments. Part of our job was to create and maintain an atmosphere where anything could happen but that Dina could also feel free to be honest and open.”
Sickles and Santini were flies on the wall, uninvolved in the story and as such allowed the story to play out, warts and all.
“I don’t think the camera being there ever threatened them,” says Santini. “Because we were always hanging out when the camera was on and it was so small it wouldn’t change anything in the room. We’d say to Dina, ‘Now we’re not in the hang out mode, we’re in the filming mode,’ but we still have so much footage of Dina looking at us and laughing with us.’”
After the end credits roll there may or may not be a happy ending for Dina and Scott and no effort is made to suggest a fairy tale romance. The film, which won the U.S. documentary grand jury prize at Sundance, is simply a heartfelt look at two people facing and hopefully overcoming considerable problems.
“The more she watches the film and travels with Dan and me to promote it,” says Santini, “the more ownership she takes over the project which is what we wanted. To feel proud and confident enough in it to be the face of the film instead of having Dan and me speak on behalf of her.”
Over the course of six movies, Thor has been portrayed as a muscle-bound sex symbol; a larger-than-life hero with Shakespearean tendencies, but New Zealander Taika Waititi thinks he has fully realized the character’s potential.
“How do you get the audience to relate to superheroes?” asks Waititi, director of Thor: Ragnarok. “If you take all of them individually from these Marvel or DC movies, they’re very hard to relate to. I can’t relate to the Incredible Hulk other than I get angry sometimes. Thor is essentially a rich kid from outer space. I can’t relate to that so how do you bring them down to our level and give them our kind of problems? That was something we focused on quite heavily in this film even to the point where we have Hulk and Thor sitting on a bed after an argument talking about feelings. We humanized them a bit more and put them in situations we’ve all been in.
“We also took away his hammer and banished him across the universe. He’s really just trying to get home. We’ve all tried to get home at four in the morning, lost, wandering the streets. That’s what this is. We’ve basically made After Hours in space.”
Thor: Ragnarok’s plot sounds like it could be from any generic Avengers film — a world is at stake — but there is no other superhero movie that would see their champions escape through an interdimensional portal named The Devil’s Anus. Yes, there is serious subtext about genocide and displaced persons but thanks to Waititi this is the first Marvel movie to really value comedy over spectacle.
“I had to be respectful of the source material and where the film fit in with all the other things they are doing,” Waititi said. “My whole thing was to give my take on this film and try and make the best film I could whilst letting Marvel keep me in my lane, making sure I didn’t veer off too far to the left or right with their precious character.”
Waititi has remained true to the core of what fans will expect from the crown prince of Asgard as played by Chris Hemsworth, but this time around the Norse God is not exactly your father’s Thor.
“This is a way more colourful and vibrant take on the character and the kind of adventures he has,” the director says. “We borrowed a lot of that design from the great artist Jack Kirby. So right from the start we pulled away from that desaturated, dark style from a lot of other superhero movies. We’re being unapologetic about wanting for this to be a fun adventure through the cosmos and filling it with incredible characters and monsters. It feels like this film was made by six-year-olds. I don’t know if there is any colour left that we haven’t either put into the poster or into the movie.”
Thor: Ragnarok is the Oscar-nominated filmmaker’s first Hollywood movie. He’s best known for oddball work like Boy, Hunt for the Wilderpeople and the horror comedy What We Do in the Shadows, but says his Marvel film shares the same DNA as his smaller movies.
“I definitely feel like this is a Taika Waititi film,” he says. “It could live comfortably in the box set.”
