Usually, it is fairly easy to pigeonhole a movie. Comedy, drama, romance, sci fi, horror, action. Those are the easy ones. It gets slightly more complicated as you branch off into hybrids like dramedy, Menippean satire, docufiction or rom com. Then, along comes a movie like “Bones and All,” a new, queasy genre buster starring Timothée Chalamet, Taylor Russell and Mark Rylance, and now playing in theatres.
Based on the 2015 novel of the same name by Camille DeAngelis, it is something I’ve never seen before, a romcanrofi, ie: a romantic, coming-of-age cannibal road film.
When we first meet Maren (Taylor Russell), she is a seventeen-year-old high schooler, being raised by single father Frank (André Holland). She appears to be a normal teen, sneaking out to a slumber party with schoolmates and the like, but when her taste for human flesh reveals itself, Maren and her dad have to hit the road before the police turn up.
When Maren turns eighteen, her father disappears, tired of hiding her terrible secret. Leaving the teen to fend for herself, he leaves behind some money, her birth certificate and a tape recording describing her life, from her first cannibalistic incident when she was just three-years-old, to providing details about Janelle (Chloë Sevigny), the mother who abandoned Maren when she was an infant.
On a search for answers, Maren hits the road, landing in Ohio, where she meets Sully (Mark Rylance), an older cannibal who says he could smell a fellow “eater” from blocks away. Like Maren, Sully is a drifter, but he’s not looking to answer life’s questions, he’s on the hunt for food. “Life is never dully with Sully,’ he snorts.
Sully teaches her the tricks of the trade, how to pick victims and feed without attracting attention, but something about him makes Maren uncomfortable and she moves on to Indiana where she meets Lee (Chalamet), a fine young cannibal who becomes her partner in life and death.
“Bones and All” isn’t exactly a horror film. The subject matter might be horrifying and there are some stomach-churning sound effects that won’t easily be forgotten, but this is more a coming-of-age love story as Maren adapts to her ever-changing circumstances.
The blood and guts are kept to a minimum, mostly serving as a vehicle for the movie’s metaphor of cannibals as anyone who has ever felt like an outcast. Maren and Lee are the ultimate others, a compulsive couple who aren’t treated as monsters, but as two people living outside of collective norms. Come for the cannibals, stay for the languid, sensitive essay on life on the fringes of society.
Seductive and strange, director Luca Guadagnino anchors the movie with his two leads, Chalamet and Russell. Both are driven to extremes by their appetites, while, at the same time, searching for acceptance and a place to call home. Both actors bring humanity to their characters, concentrating on their personal journeys rather than the monstrous aspects of their personalities. Their performances give the eccentric story a universal feel even if it is a very specific topic.
“Bones and All” has more to do with relationship road movies like “Two-Lane Blacktop” and “Badlands” than it does “Cannibal Holocaust.” It’s a haunting tale, if a little languorous for its own good, that makes a meal out of its allegory.
Set during the 1920s Harlem Renaissance, “Passing,” a new drama starring Tessa Thompson and Ruth Negga and now streaming on Netflix, is a story of childhood friends whose bond is threatened when they reconnect twelve years after school.
Based on the 1929 novel of the same name by Nella Larsen, “Passing” begins as Irene (Thompson), the upper-middle-class wife of Harlem doctor Brian (André Holland), is approached by former schoolmate Clare (Ruth Negga) in the lobby of a fancy hotel on a steamy hot New York afternoon. “Pardon me,” Clare says, “I don’t mean to stare, but I think I know you.” At first Irene doesn’t recognize her old friend. It has been years since they’ve spoken and Clare, with her bleached hair and eyebrows, is almost unrecognizable.
They get caught up, exchange stories, but time has passed and the former friends find they have little in common. Irene spends her time working as a volunteer fighting for the rights of Black people in her community. Clare, on the other hand, has been “passing” as white. Her husband John (Alexander Skarsgård) is a loudmouthed racist who has no idea about his wife’s racial identity. “Have you ever thought of what you’d do it John ever found out?” Irene asks.
Sensing trouble, buttoned-down Irene isn’t keen to rekindle the friendship but the charismatic wild card Clare ingratiates herself into the fabric of Irene’s carefully cultivated life with devastating results.
Director Rebecca Hall has carefully reconstructed the era of almost a century ago with exquisite period details, beautiful black-and-white photography and old fashioned, boxy 4:3 aspect ratio to examine very current explorations of race, identity and societal position. Thompson and Negga inhabit that world as they both deliver nuanced, introspective performances that are never overwhelmed by the film’s high style or themes.
“Passing” is an elegant, quiet film that allows for the leads to fully inhabit the characters and explore the interpersonal undercurrents that keep the story afloat. A fine mix of craft and emotion, “Passing” should appeal to the head and heart.
“Moonlight” is a film about a young man trying to find a place for himself in the world. “At some point you got to decide who you going to be,” says an early mentor. “Can’t let anybody make that decision for you.” Director Barry Jenkins splits the story into thirds, each examining a different time in the life of Chiron, a young, gay African-American man, as he comes to grips with who he is.
At the beginning of Part I Chiron (Alex Hibbert) is ten-years-old and on the run from schoolyard bullies. His small size and meek manner have made him a target. He finds refuge in an abandoned drug den where Juan (Mahershala Ali), an anything-but-stereotypical drug dealer with a heart of gold, discovers the boy cowering in a corner. The older man becomes a mentor and surrogate father, even as he sells crack to Chiron’s mother, nurse Paula (Naomie Harris).
Part II sees Chiron’s (now plyed by Ashton Sanders) high school years marred by homophobic slurs and the bullying that comes along with the name-calling. His mother has fallen deep into addiction but Juan’s girlfriend, Teresa (Janelle Monáe), picks up the slack, offering a kind face, a warm meal and a clean place to sleep. The introverted teen’s first sexual experience, with his childhood friend Kevin (Jharrel Jerome), does little to take the edge off the loneliness he feels even when he is with other people.
Part III focuses on Chiron (now played by Trevante Rhodes) as a gold-grill wearing drug dealing twenty-something, pumped up but still alone. A random phone call from Kevin (Andre Holland) gives the estranged friends a chance to catch up and confront the past.
“Moonlight” is a movie that beats with a very human heart while subverting expectations with almost every scene. Jenkins has placed obstacles in the way of the story telling—multiple actors playing the same characters, and a lead who is succinct almost to the point of being mute—but overcomes those hurdles with a combination of social conscience, fine acting and interesting characters who constantly defy pigeonholing.
Mahershala Ali, an actor best known as Remy Danton on “House of Cards,” is a standout as a drug dealer who allows the personal cost of his business to weigh on him. He’s a tough guy with a heart and his performance in Part I sets a high bar which is met by Harris and all three of the young men who play Chiron.
Each deliver performances characterized by deep inner work that reveals the truth behind the façade Chiron uses as a front. There’s a remarkable consistency in the trio of performances, so by the end of the film, when Chiron is asked, “Who is you man?” his answer, “I’m me. I don’t try to be nothing else,” rings true and real.
“Black Or White” gives Kevin Costner several of his best on-screen moments in years. The opening scene, the aftermath of a car accident, is hardcore, touching and real and a late movie courtroom showdown is powerful stuff but memories of those great sequences are tainted by a weak ending that saps much of the movie’s power.
Costner is Elliot, a recent widower and caretaker of his granddaughter Eloise (Jillian Estell). His daughter, Eloise’s mom, died in childbirth and the father (André Holland) is not in the picture. Elliot is grief stricken and frequently drunk so the girl’s paternal grandmother, Rowena (Octavia Spencer), tries to get custody with the help of her brother, lawyer Jeremiah (Anthony Mackie). The ensuing custody battle raises questions of loyalty, race, compassion and good intentions.
Director and writer Mike Binder swings for the fences here but instead forfeits the game. His script tackles issues of race and of privilege but shrouds them in a cloak of melodrama. Race becomes a major issue during the custody trial but the film doesn’t add anything to the discourse. Instead it plays the drama broad, taking a safe route (THERE WILL BE NO SPOILERS HERE) that leaves issues hanging, reducing everything to black or white with little nuance.
Costner, however, hasn’t been this good in years. He’s a believable drunk with the look of a man who has weathered tragedy but hasn’t given up. A bent-but-not-broken spirit oozes off him and a stronger script might have placed his name on more than a few Best Actor lists.
The other end of the spectrum is Octavia Spencer. The Academy Award winner is a feisty presence, bringing fire and empathy to her scenes.
The supporting cast, including Mackie, Holland and Estell all do good work as well, bringing both drama and humour to a story that needs both to be effective. It’s a shame that an ending that feels pat and sentimental undermines all this good work.
