Fast reviews for busy people! Watch as I review three movies in less time than it takes to do a high five! Have a look as I race against the clock to tell you about almost epic “The Return,” the apocalyptic musical “The End” and the nostalgic disaster flick “Y2K.”
SYNOPSIS: “Y2K,” a new disaster comedy now playing in theatres, imagines what could have happened if predictions of a technological armageddon came true as the world greeted the new millennium on New Year’s Eve 1999. “It’s goodbye human race,” says Laura (Rachel Zegler).
CAST: Jaeden Martell, Julian Dennison, Rachel Zegler, Fred Durst, and Alicia Silverstone. Directed by Kyle Mooney.
REVIEW: Part teen coming-of-age comedy, part apocalyptic disaster flick and part affectionate 1990s time capsule, “Y2K” takes a one joke premise and stretches it as thin as a sheet of foolscap to reflect on our relationship with technology.
In this world, the machines are tired of being conduits for hate and pornography and attempt a coup. “Cell phones. E-mail,” a snarky computer avatar tells computer hacker Laura. “You’re already our slaves.”
Director Kyle Mooney, who also co-wrote the script and co-stars as stoner video store clerk Garrett, hit most of the right notes in creating the world of “Y2K.” As a teen buddy comedy, he gets it right with fun period details and the casting of Jaeden Martell and Julian Dennison as nerdy best friends, the lovelorn Eli and the boisterous Danny. They are classic teen movie outsiders who step up when tested, and when they are on screen together, they’re prove to be a winning combo.
It’s when the digital revolution really gets underway that “Y2K” begins to wobble. The idea of the world’s computers bonding together as towering, killer robots, cobbled together from all manner of electronics, is cool and their first attack (which includes a homicidal Tamagotchi), just minutes into the new year, is chaotic and fun. The practical effects and frantic pacing feel like a throwback to 90s teen films, and for a time, the jokey idea has some spark.
As the teen story of survival continues into the last forty-five minutes, however, the characters aren’t up to the task of keeping us engaged with the material and “Y2K” runs out of juice.
Benicio del Toro casts his line for red herrings and more in “Reptile,” a new crime drama now streaming on Netflix.
Set against the backdrop of a sleepy New England town, the action in “Reptile” begins after realtor Summer (Matilda Anna Ingrid Lutz) is discovered murdered in the bedroom of one of her Scarborough, Maine show homes, with such force a knife was left embedded in her clavicle.
Found by her boyfriend, real estate bigwig Will Grady (Justin Timberlake), it is a gruesome scene described as “a nightmare” by grizzled Detective Tom Nichols (del Toro), the seasoned cop assigned to the case.
Nichols, a recent transplant from Philadelphia after an investigation into his former partner’s corruption, initially appears to be more interested in renovating the new house he owns with wife Judy (Alicia Silverstone) as he is with the murder, but he soon puts together a list of the usual suspects.
“Am I a suspect?” Will asks.
“Everyone is a suspect,” Nichols replies.
Also raising suspicions are Summer’s almost ex-husband Sam (Karl Glusman) and Eli Phillips (Michael Pitt), an eccentric man who holds a grudge against the Grady family.
Along the way Nichols goes down a rabbit hole, bedeviled by jealousy, police skullduggery and enough red herrings—fake deaths, etc—to feed an army.
“Reptile” has style to burn. Director Grant Singer, best known for making music videos for The Weeknd, Sam Smith and many others, in his big screen debut, creates a bleak backdrop for the action to unfold against. Trouble is, the story is laid on just as thick as the atmosphere.
Despite some good performances from Eric Bogosian, Michael Pitt and Ato Essandoh, and a heroically quirky turn from del Toro, “Reptile” plays like a derivative pastiche of the standard good cop in a bad situation genre. The myriad plot devices, that borrow from “Law & Order” and “Cop Land” and everything in between, threaten to crush the whole thing under their weight.
“Reptile’s” main strength is del Toro. He shares great chemistry with Silverstone, his co-star in 1997’s “Excess Baggage,” but it is his combination of tenaciousness and eccentricity that are the movie’s most original components.
A high school, coma comedy with a fish-out-of-water twist, “Senior Year,” a new Netflix movie starring Rebel Wilson, plays like a mix between “While You Were Sleeping” and “Billy Madison.”
Stephanie Conway (Angourie Rice as teenager, Wilson as an adult) was on track to have a perfect life. A high school star, she was a cheerleader, president of the fashion club and prom queen candidate until a head injury, caused by a tumble off the top of a cheerleading pyramid, put her into coma for twenty years.
Waking up at age 37, it is like no time has passed. As far as she knows, it’s 2002, words like “shiznit” and “bomb diggity” are still hip and she still wants to be prom queen, the pinnacle of high school success. “It’s more than just a crown to me,” she says.
But she is a relic. Social media is a new-fangled thing, political correctness is like science fiction, cheerleaders now do routines about the climate crisis and gun control, and her former classmates are now the parents of high schoolers.
To get on with her new life, its’s time for some adult education… in high school. “I can’t move on to the next chapter in my life,” she says, “if I am still stuck in the old one for twenty years.”
With just a month before graduation, she enrolls, trying to pick up where she left off. But she finds times gave changed. “I had more fun in the coma,” she sighs.
“Senior Year” is a comedy with a scattergun approach.
The coming-of-age story is meant to be a poignant look at Stephanie as she matures and comes to understand that there is more to life than cheerleading and being prom queen. The power of friendships and loyalty are examined—”It doesn’t matter who has the most friends, or likes, or followers,” says Stephanie. “If you just have one or two great friends, they will support you. Then you have got it all. That is worth fighting for.”—butted up against the notion of being true to yourself and the idea that who you are in high school doesn’t define you.
Doesn’t sound that funny, does it?
That’s because it isn’t. At least, not all the way through. “Senior Year” takes a one joke premise and milks it for humor in the first couple of acts. Funny, situational lines are sprinkled throughout the first hour or so. “You survived twenty years without solid food,” says Stephanie’s dad (Chris Parnell), “you can make it through a weekend without your phone,” but they dry up as the movies goes on.
It also goes for laughs from the culture clash between 2002 and 2022. Stephanie has much to learn about political correctness and world events, but to its credit, the film doesn’t treat the teens as woke zombies, spouting catchphrases, but as decent kids who care about their friends and the future.
It sounds like a lot, because it is a lot. Wilson does what she can to keep things moving along, but when the feel-good messaging begins, she is saddled with prosaic, by-the-book truisms that suck away the whatever fun had been established in the film’s first part.
Talented comic actors like Mary Holland and Zoë Chao bring both humor and heart to their roles, but “Senior Year” still feels messy. Too long, it toggles back-and-forth between the sincere and the silly like it is changing gears in a high-speed Formula One race, but, unfortunately, never finds its pace.
“The Lodge,” now on VOD, may be mostly set in the great outdoors it is, nonetheless, a claustrophobic thriller that plays on dark psychological trauma.
Richard Hall (Richard Armitage) is the father of Aidan (Jaeden Martell) and Mia (Lia McHugh) and the soon-to-be-ex-husband of Laura (Alicia Silverstone). The estranged couple share custody until Richard breaks the news that he has met someone new and wants a divorce so he can marry Grace (Riley Keough). Distraught, Laura kills herself. The kids, traumatized, blame Grace for their mother’s death. In an attempt to bring his kids and fiancée to something close to speaking terms, Richard plans a “family” trip to a remote cabin so they can all get to know one another.
Almost as soon as they arrive Richard is called back to the city for work, leaving Grace, Aiden and Mia alone. “Things are very uncomfortable between us,” Grace says to the kids, “but we’re stuck in a house together.” That growing sense of unease is exacerbated after Aiden and Mia google their soon-to-be-step-mom and discover she is the daughter of religious leader and the only survivor of his cult’s mass suicide.
They are stranded—the car won’t start and the weather has made travelling on foot impossible—as strange things happen in the cabin and Grace begins to spiral. “We need to sacrifice something for the Lord,” she says.
“The Lodge” builds slowly creating eerie unease while peppering in some shocking scenes. Directors Veronika Franz and Severin Fiala play up the small details to create an uncomfortable atmosphere. The vastness of the icy outdoors playing against the claustrophobia of the cabin provides the backdrop for story ripe with religious imagery and surreal touches.
As the aura of paranoia grows, so do the questions. Is Grace is being tormented by the kids, or is she a victim of a supernatural force—possibly her father—who wishes her harm. Keough is terrific as a woman tormented by the past, unpredictable in the present. It’s hard to know whether she is dangerous or in danger and that pouch and pull is the movie’s strong point.,
“The Lodge” is a bit too ponderous in its early moments but finds its groove in the haunting exploration of Grace’s trauma.
For the Johnson family “Fifty Shades of Grey” is the gift that keeps on giving. First Dakota Johnson became a star playing the book’s lead character in the film adaptation. Now her father, Don Johnson, appears in “Book Club,” a tale of four women inspired by the erotic novel to spice up their sex lives.
Diane Keaton, Jane Fonda, Candice Bergen and Mary Steenburgen star as life long friends at different places in their lives. Diane (Keaton) is a recent widow, federal judge Sharon (Bergen) obsesses about her decades old divorce while sensualist Vivian (Fonda) plays the field and Carol (Steenburgen), a chef who wonders if her marriage is headed for the rocks.
The pals have been getting together for book club for forty years—starting with “Fear of Flying,” Erica Jong’s controversial 1973 portrayal of female sexuality. Their lives are shaken up when Vivian brings a new book over. “Ladies I’m not going to let us become those people who stop living before they stop living,” she says. “I would like to introduce you to Christian Grey.” “Fifty Shades of Grey,” the soft core look at hard core BDSM (bondage, discipline, sadism and masochism), becomes the hit of their chardonnay soaked book club—“It says for ‘mature audiences.’” “That certainly sounds like us.”—stirring up some long forgotten desires.
Like the classic rock on the soundtrack “Book Club” is not ashamed of what it is. Predictable in the extreme, it’s a movie that understands its audience and never over reaches. Like I well-worn joke it sets up the premise, delivers a punchline and waits for the laugh. It’s comfort food, a lightly raunchy sitcom about finding love later in life. Ripe with double entendres, it’s a genial boomer sex comedy about the pleasures of listening to vinyl, connecting and reconnecting, about a generation gap and living life to the fullest.
“We’re sure not spring flowers,” says Carol. “More like potpourri,” replies Vivian. They are women of a certain age but in an industry that often ignores older women it is fun to see this quartet front and centre. Bergen wields her wit and delivery like a sabre. Steenburgen’s journey is more about her husband Bruce (Craig T. Nelson) but she brings much charm to the role. Fonda is the vulnerable sexpot, never allowing anyone to get too close (“I don’t need anyone,” she says. “That’s the secret of my success.”) while Keaton’s trademarked fluster and flap is on full display. Together they evoke “Sex and the City” for a different generation.
The men of “Book Club” are fine—Andy Garcia, Don Johnson, Richard Dreyfuss and Nelson—but it is the women, their connection and their groove that makes this movie so enjoyable.
Director Yorgos Lanthimos makes idiosyncratic films. From the bizarre home schooling fantasy “Dogtooth” to “The Lobster,” a film about turning lovesick divorcees into wildlife, he is unafraid to let his freak flag fly. His newest film, “The Killing Of A Sacred Deer” starring Colin Farrell and Nicole Kidman, may be his most unapologetically odd film yet.
Farrell is Steven Murphy, an uptight cardiac surgeon married to ophthalmologist Anna (Kidman). Their two kids, Bob (Sunny Suljic) and Kim (Raffey Cassidy) are polite, happy kids. They eat dinner together every night and by all outward appearances lead a disciplined, quiet suburban life. It wasn’t always that way. Just three years before Steven was forced to stop drinking when it began to interfere with his work.
Now all is calm. The only strange thing is Steven’s attachment to Martin (Barry Keoghan), the son of a patient who died unexpectedly. Steven buys him expensive presents and always seems to have time to talk to the boy or take him out for lunch. Shortly after Martin is invited over for dinner, however, things in the Murphy household take a turn for the worse. Little Bob’s legs give out and soon he is paralyzed from the waist down. He’s given every test known to man and science but no diagnosis is forthcoming. Then Kim takes ill, collapsing at choir practice. Again, there doesn’t seem to be a medical reason for her paralysis.
There’s more, but there will be no spoilers here. If you want clues look up the Greek myth of Artemis’s demand of atonement from Agamemnon after he killed a sacred deer.
From this point on “The Killing Of A Sacred Deer” becomes a horror film about ideas rather than actions. It’s a study of extreme consequences, atonement and the length to which people will go to save their families. In many ways it’s the kind of story we’ve seen many times before but Lanthimos has filtered the domestic drama through his lens, creating an unsettling and absurd film that is as gripping as it is strange.
Lanthimos uses language and tone to bring us into his world. The actors have a eerie, mannered way of speaking as though they are always reading aloud from an Emily Post book. Before anything odd happens the matter-of-fact speech, often about the most trivial or, sometimes, inappropriate things, establishes the film’s otherworldly tone. It hangs heavy over every second of the movie and when the character’s veneers begin to crack it is even more disquieting.
“The Killing Of A Sacred Deer” does not offer explanations or apologies for anyone’s behaviour. Instead it is content to wallow in the cruelty and depravity of its story. Strange days indeed.
The “Diary of the Wimpy Kid” movies are meant for children who have aged out of “Dora the Explorer” but aren’t quite ready for “Thirteen Reasons Why.”
Based on the ninth book in the wildly popular children’s book series by Jeff Kinney, “Diary of a Wimpy Kid: The Long Haul” takes place a year after the events of the last film 2012 “Dog Days” but don’t expect to see many familiar faces.
Original star Zachary Gordon aged out of the title teenager role and was replaced by newcomer Jason Drucker. Also recast was Devon Bostick who played the popular Roderick character. Charlie Wright took over, a move that didn’t please the film’s fans. One Wimpy aficionado tweeted, “The new Rodrick looks like a kid Rodrick would bully,” while others voiced dissatisfaction with the hashtag #NotMyRodrick.
When we first meet the new Heffley family—whimpy kid Greg, brother (and drummer for the metal group Löded Diper) Roderick, Mom (Alicia Silverstone), Dad (Tom Everett Scott) baby Manny (Wyatt and Dylan Walters)—they’re on the way to Corky’s—imagine a bigger, wilder Chuck E. Cheese’s and you get the idea—for dinner. When Manny gets lost inside a chute maze Greg comes to the rescue. His act of heroics backfires when he emerges from the ball pit at the end of the chute with Manny in one hand and a diaper on the other. A video of the event immediately goes viral and Greg becomes famous on the internet as Diaper Hand.
If Greg doesn’t do something soon he’ll be teased relentlessly, more a meme than a man. “If I don’t do something soon I’ll be branded Diaper Hands until I die,” he says. “Maybe longer.” Then inspiration hits. He realizes his hero, videogame guru Mac Digby (Joshua Hoover), will be appearing at a giant convention called Player’s Expo. “If I get a video of me with Mac I’ll be the coolest kid in high school,” he says. “Everyone will forget about Diaper Hands.”
Conveniently the family is planning a road trip to their great-grandmother’s 90th birthday, which, according to the map, is only two inches away from where the expo is taking place. The family heads off, Mom and Dad blissfully unaware of Greg’s plan, on an adventure that will play out like Griswold Lite.
Gently paced, “Diary of a Wimpy Kid: The Long Haul” is like a 1950s family sitcom updated with cell phones, pee, barf and poop jokes. There’s also a pig with the pacifier, some mild action and a slapstick villain named Beardo (Chris Coppola). The underlying messages of family togetherness, respect and the importance of reading “word books” are circa “Leave It To Beaver” era, and so are many of the jokes, but that’s not an entirely bad thing.
There are some genuinely funny moments—many supplied by clueless goofball Roderick—but mostly this is a sweet story fuelled by the familial relationships. It’s a generation gap between the kids who want to stay connected online while the parents went to connect as a family.
“Diary of a Wimpy Kid: The Long Haul” doesn’t reinvent the family movie wheel. Instead it searches for new ways to freshen up the kind of poop jokes so often found in neo-children’s movies.