“In the Heights,” now playing in theatres, is a joyful movie based on Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Tony award-winning musical, that will make you feel better by the end of the movie than you did when it began. Energetic, exultant and empathetic, it feels like a long weekend away from real life.
A series of connected stories, “In the Heights” transcends its Broadway bound beginnings with a production cut loose from the confines of the stage. Shot on the streets of Washington Heights, New York, the story of a bodega, gentrification, a winning lottery ticket, love, community and the dreams of its characters is lovingly painted in big, bright colors by director John M. Chu.
The spider-web of a story weaves in and out of its character’s lives, centering around bodega owner Usnavi, played by the charismatic Anthony Ramos. Like almost everyone in the film Usnavi has a dream of a life beyond his neighborhood, and, in a sentiment borrowed from another famous musical, soon, most everyone discovers there’s no place like home.
“In the Heights” is a story of the immigrant experience that touches on the DREAM Act and fear of deportation, but is more concerned with its characters and their day dreams of creating better lives for themselves. It’s a story of resilience, of hope and it’s a tonic during these pandemic times when it seems the media, both social and mainstream, are incapable of delivering anything but unsettling news.
In an eager cast, Olga Merediz, who reprises her Broadway role as the neighborhood’s grandmother Abuela Claudia, and Melissa Barrera as Usnavi’s love interest Vanessa, are standouts.
The sheer spectacle of it all, however, may be the real star. Chu’s camera is in constant motion, capturing the many ensemble dance numbers that accompany the soundtrack’s hip-hop, salsa, merengue, soul and R&B, in an eye-popping manner. The Busby Berkeley-style “96,000” number, shot at a public swimming pool is a total throwback to Hollywood’s Golden Age, as is a terrifically staged gravity-defying dance on the side of a building.
It doesn’t all work, however. A framing device that sees Usnavi tell his story to a group of kids is clunky and the opening number, “In the Heights,” an almost eight-minute set-up to the story, is stylish but overstays its welcome.
Still, those are small issues in an invigorating crowd pleaser that offers heart and uplift in almost every frame.
In just a few months Kate Nash went from working the chip frier at Nandos to the top of the charts. A new documentary, “Kate Nash: Underestimate the Girl,” now on VOD, is a portrait of an artist’s rise, fall and rebirth.
Kate Nash’s story begins in a in very modern, twenty-first century way, through social media. “She got signed because she had the most of followers on MySpace,” says an insider in the film.
Barely out of her teens and working in a fast-food joint, she began her journey into the heart of the music industry’s darkness when she broke her foot. At loose ends and bored, her parents bought her a guitar. Soon she was writing songs and after the foot mended, she played open mics and uploaded to MySpace. Her catchy, angsty anthems resonated with audiences and the record labels took note. Signed to a deal, she won awards and played to large crowds.
“In the UK we have a real thirst and hunger for new sensations. The curve is so quick that you can be discovered and be the next be the next most exciting thing and the next morning almost discarded.”
What isn’t so modern about her story is the misogyny that plagued her career from the get go. “Underestimate the Girl” is a familiar tale of a musician pushing against the conventions of record company expectations and paying a steep price for independence.
“Kate Nash: Underestimate the Girl” isn’t as straightforward as you might think. The early story trajectory would suggest an upbeat, slight look at someone picking themselves up and brushing off. But that’s not what this movie is about. It begins with a rush of energy, part doc, part music video and slowly finds its feet as a deeper portrait of a creative life. Real life twists colour the story, shifting it away from the usual comeback reality show to something grittier. “I don’t know how to be a real person,” she says. “How to make money outside of being on tour or making a record.”
For Nash’s fans, the film’s final moments are a testament to her talent.
Throughout it all Nash’s charisma, resiliency and optimism keeps her and the movie afloat. You root for her. “Kate Nash: Underestimate the Girl” is a real-life cautionary tale, complete with bad guys, but it is also a lesson in learning to roll with life’s punches. “It’s amazing how quickly life can get really different,” she says, isn’t it?”
In director Charles Officer’s crime-noir “Akilla’s Escape,” now on digital & VOD, a drug robbery goes sideways, opening the door for the title character’s reckoning of his past, and the future of the young man who held a shotgun to his head.
Drug dealer Akilla (Saul Williams, who also composed the film’s score with Robert 3D Del Naja) wants out. Marijuana is about to become legal in Canada, but his days as a violent, mid-level drug runner are over.
Almost.
His ‘retirement” is postponed when he walks in on the robbery of one of his boss’s operations. As shotgun and machete wielding gang members invade the place, Akilla locks eyes with Sheppard (Thamela Mpumlwana), the youngest of the thieves. As things turns violent, Akilla subdues the teenaged Sheppard, knocking him unconscious.
Instead of seeking revenge in the name of his employer, Akilla forms a bond with the young man, recognizing in Sheppard parallels to his own life and the trauma that put them both on the path to a life of violence.
“Akilla’s Escape” is a stylish crime story laced with social commentary. What it lacks in pulse racing action scenes, it makes up for with tense, tightly wound performances, illustrations of toxic masculinity and a nicely rendered story that jumps back and forth in time.
Taking on a double role, Mpumlwana plays both Sheppard and, in flashbacks, young Akilla. It’s a clever casting trick, but it works to skillfully reveal the similarities in their lives. The two characters may have been led down a similar path, but Mpumlwana’s work ensures the characters are distinct and interesting throughout.
The core of the movie is the rock-solid performance from Williams. World-weary and contemplative, he’s part criminal, part social worker and is the film’s heart and soul.
“Akilla’s Escape” is a study of how generational trauma and poverty shapes lives. It errs on the side of exposition in several scenes, but the power of the story lies in what isn’t said as much as what is. The film is at its best when Williams and Mpumlwana are showing, not telling. In those moments “Akilla’s Escape” is powerful, mature and impactful.
“Shane Cardwell once plunged out of a window, falling nearly 20 metres. Another time he flew 12 metres through the air, not in an airplane but behind the wheel of a car.”
I write about him in today’s Toronto Star! Read the whole thing HERE!
Thanks to the Canadian Film Centre for having Richard in to host the virtual Garden Party and Q&A with the executive director of the Stockholm Resilience Centre, Johan Rockström.
From the CFC Facebook page: ”
Since 1988, we’ve hosted our Annual Garden Party on the beautiful grounds of Windfields Estate. While we couldn’t gather in person this year, we gathered virtually to celebrate our extraordinary donors, the CFC Circle of Supporters, and our many remarkable partners, by enjoying a special advanced virtual presentation of Netflix‘s compelling climate change documentary ‘Breaking Boundaries: The Science Of Our Planet.’ We would like to send a heartfelt thanks to our partner Netflix for presenting this exclusive screening opportunity, to Richard Crouse for lending his voice for the intro and Q&A session of this event, and to our friends at Lollicakes for providing the delicious cookies for our Circle of Supporters members! A sweet token of our appreciation. The CFC Circle of Supporters is a dynamic community of individuals who treasure Canadian stories and talented creators who crafts them for our screens. When you join the CFC Circle of Supporters, you enjoy access to exclusive CFC showcases, events, activities, and more! To learn more and join, CLICK HERE!
It’s been almost two decades since the adventures of a Kiger Mustang stallion named Spirit were nominated for an Academy Award for Best Animated Feature. “Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron” lost to another spirited entry, “Spirited Away” from Japanese master Hayao Miyazaki, but spawned a cottage industry in the form of television shows and video games.
This weekend the headstrong horse goes on another feature length DreamWorks Animation adventure in “Spirit Untamed.” Now playing in theatres, it’s a re-imagined version of the television series “Spirit Riding Free.”
First some background.
Lucky Prescott’s (Isabela Merced) mother Milagro was a fearless horse trick rider from Miradero, a small town in America’s Wild West.
Milagro’s legend looms large in Lucky’s imagination, but she never got to know her. After her mother’s death, Lucky was raised on the East Coast by Aunt Cora (Julianne Moore), a straightlaced woman who struggled with his niece’s inherited wild side.
When Lucky pushes her luck too far, Aunt Cora decides the youngster needs stability in the form of her father, Jim (Jake Gyllenhaal) in the family home in sleepy little Miradero.
Life in the small town doesn’t sit well with Lucky until she meets her kindred spirit, a wild Mustang who shares her independent streak. The horse, Spirit, is the leader of a herd of wild stallions who become the target of animal poachers led by the evil Hendricks (Walton Goggins).
In an effort to save the horses from a life of captivity and hard labor Lucky recruits two local horseback riders, Abigail Stone (Mckenna Grace) and Pru Granger (Marsai Martin), and embarks on a rescue mission.
“Spirit Untamed” contains good messages about independence but also about being connected to a larger community. Lucky and Spirit are, well, spirited in their own ways but their true strength lies in their respect for the people and horses around them.
It is a simply told story of empowerment that doesn’t gallop over any new ground but, hackneyed though the message may be, it’s still an important one for younger viewers.
The big-eyed Margaret Keanesque character animation is nicely rendered, accompanied by energetic voice work, and should appeal to fans of the original. Younger viewers, who may not have been around when the original made a stir, could find parallels between this and the “How to Train Your Dragon” franchise.
With “Cruella” taking a dark turn, “Spirit Untamed” is the best family flick of the season.
Eight movies into “The Conjuring” franchise the ghostbusting Warrens, Ed and Lorraine, played by Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga, face their most daunting adversary yet. They’ve battled evil in the form of haunted houses, supernatural spirits and a nasty doll named Annabelle, but in “The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It,” now playing in theatres, the married demonologists investigate a murder and a suspect who claims the devil made him do it.
Set in 1981 Connecticut, “The Devil Made Me Do It” is based on the trial of Arne Cheyenne Johnson, the first case to attempt a defense claim of demonic possession.
The movie begins with a priest and the Warrens performing an exorcism on eight-year-old David Glatzel (Julian Hilliard) that would give Regan MacNeil a run for her money. As all hell breaks loose, the demon leaves the youngster’s body and, after Arne Johnson (Ruairi O’Connor), the boyfriend of David’s sister taunts it, takes control of the older man. “Leave him alone!” Arne says to the demon. “He’s just a little boy you coward! Leave him alone and take me!”
Soon Arne’s behaviour changes and when he stabs his landlord twenty-two times, the Warrens set out to prove he is not guilty by reason of demonic possession. “The court accepts the existence of God every time a witness swears to tell the truth,” Ed says. “I think it’s about time they accept the existence of the Devil.”
When Arne is charged in a Death penalty case, the Warrens spring into action to prove his innocence. “We won’t let him down,” Ed says. As the couple work to discover what is real and what is not, the case presents ever increasing personal danger.
“The Devil Made Me Do It” is more a procedural prompted by Arne’s actions than Arne’s story. He disappears for forty-five minutes or so as the Warrens decipher the mystery surrounding his crime. Director Michael Chaves keeps up the atmosphere of dread with a series of well-executed lighting effects, jump scares and eerie sound cues but, while he delivers some shocks, he knows that the real reason the “Conjuring” movies work is the relationship between Wilson and Farmiga. As the Warrens they are the earthbound anchor who add humanity to the supernatural goings on.
Sure, there is a devilish waterbed—anyone who grew up in the 70s and 80s already knew waterbeds were bad, but the movie makes a convincing case for them as evil as well—and lots of Satanic Panic, but “The Devil Made Me Do It” isn’t all pentagrams and inverted crosses. It flags in the midsection, but by the time the end credits roll the relationship between the demon hunters is front and centre, a testament to the power of love. It may be a cliché but it adds some light to the film’s dark elements and gives Wilson and Farmiga some nice character-building moments.
The Warrens are unlikely horror heroes, but “The Devil Made Me Do It” proves you don’t have to be creepy to deliver the thrills.
You may not have heard of Rockfield, a recording studio located on a cattle and pig farm just outside the village of Rockfield, Monmouthshire, Wales, but you’ve heard the songs recorded there.
A new documentary, “Rockfield: The Studio on The Farm,” now on VOD, aims to illuminate the history of a place that helped create the sound of heavy metal, gave the world Queen’s signature tune when the band mastered the final section of “Bohemian Rhapsody” there in the summer of 1975, and inspired Chris Martin to write “Yellow” and Oasis to record “(What’s the Story) Morning Glory?”
“It’s like the ‘Big Brother’ house with tunes,” says Liam Gallagher. “You go there and don’t leave until the album is done.”
The walls of the storied studio don’t have to talk, they have owners Kingsley and Charles Ward. The brothers began as farmers and wannabe musicians, but soon realized there was more money in offering a place for bands to get away from the hustle and bustle of London’s music scene than there was in raising pigs.
“Once we got rid of the pigs,” says Kingsley, the quirkier of the two, “we got into the music business. So, it was more and less the same, except the usage had changed.”
The Ward brothers provide a great deal of the film’s charm. From helping Lemmy find a place to store his drug stash in the band’s living quarters to Kingsley’s colorfully understated way of telling a story. They provide the doc’s backbone. The stories are fleshed out by the musicians who called the place home at one time or another.
“We started as a rock band dabbling in drugs,” Ozzy Osbourne says of Black Sabbath, who rehearsed their breakthrough album “Paranoid” at Rockfield, “and ended up a drug band dabbling in rock.”
Gallagher talks about trying to record after spending the day… and night… at one of the local pubs. “You’d have a go,” he says, “but you’d end up sounding like The Pogues.”
Robert Plant says he was “already a cliché” by the time he hit Rockfield to record his first solo album and seems to have genuine affection for the place and Kingsley. Like so many others before him, he used “this arboreal green and pleasant land” as a place of reinvention.
Rockfield is still a recording studio and a working farm, and that mix and match of pastoral and musical is key to the magic of the place. Chris Martin of Coldplay calls it a “musical Hogwarts,” where bands went to live, create and find their sound. “We were sent away to figure it out,” he says.
“Rockfield: The Studio on The Farm” is an exercise in nostalgia, but it’s an entertaining one. A look back at rock ‘n roll’s first residential studio, it’s a guided tour through several generations of British rock’s guitar.
At the beginning of “Hero: Inspired by the Extraordinary Life & Times of Mr. Ulric Cross,” a bio-doc on the life of Ulric Cross and now available on premium VOD in the Cineplex Store, the film’s subject says, “When I was appointed High Commissioner in London the Foreign Office asked, ‘How did I wish to be addressed?’ Judge? Which I had been. Professor. Which I had been. Squadron leader? Which I had been.”
Ultimately, the Caribbean high court judge, pan-African diplomat, decorated RAF war hero and BBC producer-presenter keeps it simple.
How shall we address him? “As Ulric,” he says with a laugh.
Using a mix of archival footage and reenactments, director Frances-Anne Solomon takes a methodical approach to laying out Cross’s eventful life. Step-by-step Solomon, with the aid of slick editing from Charles Ross and effective performances from a talented cast—Nickolai Salcedo as Cross, Joseph Marcell, Pippa Nixon, Peter Williams and Ghanaian superstars, John Dumelo, Adjetey Anang and Prince David Oseia—tells multiple stories with Cross as the focus.
Using Cross as the film’s focus, the film illuminates his role in the broader stories of British colonialism in the Caribbean and Africa, the moves toward peaceful liberation in Ghana, Congo, Cameroon and Tanzania and the efforts to establish the United States of Africa. “He was part of something much bigger,” says daughter Nicola.
There’s a lot happening in “Hero.” The stories of Cross’s idealism and work to change the world sit alongside some MI6 intrigue and interviews with his wife Ann. Jessica B. Hill plays Nicola, the daughter who provides a link between the archival aspects of the story and her father’s final days. “My father gave me choice,” she says. “Not once when I was growing up, did I ever feel like anything was out of reach. That was not true for him. I have that to thank him for that.”
With so much going on in “Hero: Inspired by the Extraordinary Life & Times of Mr. Ulric Cross” falls prey to some episodic storytelling and occasionally feels rushed in its attempt to cover the width and breadth of Cross’s life. Still, the documentary works as an issue driven look at the life of a remarkable man.
