I sit in with hosts Jim Richards and Deb Hutton on NewsTalk 1010 to play the game “Did Richard Crouse Like This?” This week we talk about the Pharrell Williams Lego music doc “Piece by Piece,” the crime thriller “Woman of the Hour” and the origin story “The Apprentice.”
Listen to the whole thing HERE! (Starts at 27:25)
I sit in on the CFRA Ottawa morning show with host Bill Carroll to talk the new movies coming to theatres and streaming including the Pharrell Williams Lego music doc “Piece by Piece,” the crime thriller “Woman of the Hour” and the origin story “The Apprentice.”
Listen to the whole thing HERE!
I joined CP24 Breakfast to have a look at new movies and television shows coming to theatres and streaming services. Today we talk about the Pharrell Williams Lego music doc “Piece by Piece,” the crime thriller “Woman of the Hour” and the documentary “Blink.”
Watch the whole thing HERE!
I join the CTV NewsChannel anchor Akshay Tandon to talk about the Pharrell Williams Lego music doc “Piece by Piece,” the crime thriller “Woman of the Hour” and the origin story “The Apprentice.”
Watch the whole thing HERE!
SYNOPSIS: Based on true events, “Woman of the Hour,” a new thriller directed by and starring Anna Kendrick, and now playing in theatres, is a look at structural misogyny through the lens of a true crime story.
CAST: Anna Kendrick, Cheryl Bradshaw, Daniel Zovatto, Rodney Alcala, Nicolette Robinson, Kathryn Gallagher, Tony Hale. Directed by Anna Kendrick.
REVIEW: Anna Kendrick makes a sensational, but never sensationalized directorial debut with the taut true crime thriller “Woman of the Hour.”
The story of dead-eyed serial killer Rodney Alcala, played with malevolent mystery by Daniel Zovatto, becomes less the story of a cold-blooded murderer (who may have killed as many as 130 women) and more about chauvinism, misogyny and power dynamics.
Kendrick balances these big themes with several stories that dovetail together to form a whole. Told on a broken timeline as the action jumps around in chronology, we learn that Alcala preys on women, mostly runaways, drifters and those with no connection to their community, all women who won’t be immediately missed; that Cheryl Bradshaw (Kendrick) is a wannabe actress who says, “I’m working very hard but accomplishing very little,” and that Laura’s (Nicolette Robinson) accusations against Alcala in the rape and murder of her friend went unheard.
When Cheryl is booked to appear on “The Dating Game,” her agent assures her it will be good for her career. After all, Sally Field once appeared on the show and look how well she’s doing. The set up is simple, she’ll ask three “bachelors” a series of questions, and at the end of the show, choose one of them to go on a date.
Trouble is, one of them is an idiot, one’s a sexist, and the other is a predator named Alcala.
By the time the movie gets to the cheesy gameshow section Kendrick, the director, has already ramped up the tension and, in an exchange between Cheryl and the show’s make-up artists, established her theme. As she powders Cheryl’s face the make-up artist tells her the most important question to consider when choose one of the men: “Which one of you won’t hurt me?”
It’s a stark moment amid the kitschy, candy-coloured game show set, and even though screenwriter Ian McDonald has taken considerable liberties with the facts while weaving this story together, the depiction of institutional misogyny—whether it is game show host Ed (Tony Hale) openly discussing Cheryl’s figure with crew members or Cheryl’s “nice-guy” neighbor (Pete Holmes) making a clumsy pass at her or Alcala’s victimization of women—the movie hits some hard truths.
“Women of the Hour” is an exciting directorial debut. The wit and timing Kendrick displays as a performer easily translates to her work behind the camera as she confidently, in a tight 90 minutes, navigates the film’s tricky structure to create an almost unbearable feeling of tension.
Three movies in you wouldn’t think there was that much story left to tell in the Trolls Universe.
And you’d be right. There isn’t.
But “Trolls Band Together,” the new animated jukebox musical featuring the voices of Anna Kendrick and Justine Timberlake, and now playing in theatres, isn’t so much about the story as it is the frenetic, psychedelic experience of watching it all unfold.
This time around, the story begins years ago with Baby Branch (Timberlake) making his debut with BroZone, the all-Troll boy band consisting of Floyd (electropop sensation Troye Sivan), John Dory (Eric André), Spruce (Daveed Diggs) and Clay (Kid Cudi). The pressures of life at the top of the charts, of chasing the perfect sound, is wearing away at the band, and when their choreography goes wrong during a live show, they decide to call it quits.
“We’re not in sync,” says elder brother John Dory. “We’ve gone from boys to men, and now there’s only one direction for us to go… to the back streets.”
Cut to years later. Branch is now married to Queen Poppy (Kendrick), queen of the ever optimistic Pop Trolls, and hasn’t been in contact with his brothers since their last show. “My brothers walked out on me,” says Branch, “and never came back.”
Out of the blue John Dory shows up with bad news. Their brother Floyd is being held captive in a diamond prison by pop superstars Velvet and Veneer (Amy Schumer and Andrew Rannells) who siphon off his talent to enhance their terrible singing voices. “I want to be famous,” says Velvet, “but I don’t want to work for it.”
The only way to rescue Floyd is to put the band back together and create the one thing powerful enough to shatter a diamond, the perfect family harmony of all their voices singing together.
The experience of watching “Trolls Band Together” is not unlike watching a great fireworks display. They both distract the eye, are often super cool looking and may cause temporary elation, but as soon as they’re over, so is the thrill. The frantically paced film is all spectacle, glitter and musical dance numbers.
There isn’t a moment for the audience or the movie to catch its breath, as though director Walt Dohrn edited out any moments without action, leaving behind all peaks and no valleys. The razzle dazzle may appeal to younger audiences but parents, despite the addition of adult level humor, may be overwhelmed by the sheer volume of imagery in every frame.
Still, it’s hard to dislike a movie that emphasizes the importance of family and community, has credible boy band songs (NSYNC perform “Better Place,” their first original song in 22 years) and 2D animation sequences inspired by “Yellow Submarine” and “Fantasia.”
“Alice, Darling,” a new psychological drama starring Anna Kendrick, now on VOD and in select theatres, is a portrait of a woman who rediscovers both her essence and courage in the aftermath of an emotionally abusive relationship.
Kendrick is Alice, a young woman under the control of her emotionally manipulative artist boyfriend Simon (Charlie Carrick). In the film’s opening scene, she is out for dinner with best pals Sophia (Wunmi Mosaku) and Tess (Kaniehtiio Horn), but is anxious, agitated, repeatedly checking her phone and bristling when her friends joke about the waiter having a thing for her.
When the three plan a remote weekend get-a-way to celebrate Tess’s birthday, Alice lies to Simon and spends the whole time on tenterhooks.
“You can’t tell your life partner that you’re going on a trip with our best friends?” asks Tess. “I can’t think of a bigger red flag than that.”
“I don’t know how any of this is any of your business,” replies Alice.
Tensions between the friends bubble over during the time away until Alice comes clean about the nature of her relationship with Simon.
“You never know what is going to make him angry,” she says. “I spend all this time trying to be good. Trying to be better. I’m never good enough.”
Just as it seems the clouds have lifted and smiles appear on their faces for the first time in days, Simon, who has been unable to reach Alice, shows up at their cabin. “You look different,” he says. “She looks like herself,” say her friends.
In a brisk ninety-minute running time, “Alice, Darling” conveys the warning signs of Simon’s gaslighting, and the effect it has on Alice. Simon’s brand of abuse is insidious. “He doesn’t hurt me or anything,” she says. But he does get into her head, using his narcissism like a shroud to cloak her own feelings and desires. Simon’s actual role in the film, in terms of screen time, is fairly brief, but his presence is felt throughout.
Carrick personifies the kind of malevolent, arrogant jerk who demands to know, “Why would you hurt me like this?” at the slightest of provocation, but it is Kendrick’s work that gives the movie its power. In a performance that mixes the introspective with the physical, she portrays Alice’s turmoil. From pulling her own hair out, to her hollow-eyed stare, Kendrick is an authentic and believable victim of Simon’s brainwashing.
Director Mary Nighy (daughter of recent Best Actor nominee Bill) relies on Kendrick to carry “Alice, Darling’s” weight. The film wraps things up a bit too tidily at the end, but the power of Alice’s story remains undiminished.
As the first movie to jump ship from theatrical to VOD at the start of the pandemic, “Trolls World Tour” set a precedent. Dozens of movies have followed suit, but this will be remembered as the first. Unfortunately, that is the only groundbreaking thing about this Anna Kendrick and Justin Timberlake sequel.
Returning from 2016’s “Trolls” are Queen Poppy (Kendrick), and her best friends Branch (Timberlake) and Biggie (James Corden). They are pop music loving Trolls who pass the days singing, dancing and hugging until Poppy discovers that there are five other Troll tribes, divided by their musical taste. “The truth is we are not alone in this world,” says King Peppy (Walt Dohrn, who also directs). “There are other kinds of Trolls. They are not like us. They are different ways in you can’t even imagine. We love music with a hummable hook, a catchy rhythm, and an upbeat melody that makes you want to wiggle your butt. These others Trolls sing different. They dance different. Some of them can’t even grasp the concept of ‘Hammer Time.’”
The Queen and Company set off on a fact-finding mission to visit the other musical colonies. “I can’t stay home when I know there is a world of Trolls out there,” she says. On her journey she discovers sounds she doesn’t quite understand. “They must not know that music’s supposed to make you happy,” she says as a mournful (but not too mournful, this is a “Trolls” movie after all) country song fills the soundtrack. Later, after hearing classical music for the first time she wonders aloud, “Where’s the words?” But she also discovers a threat in the form of Metal Queen Barb (Rachel Bloom) who plans to use “the ultimate power chord” to assert rock’s place as the official music of all Trolls. “By the end of my world tour we’re all going to have the same vibe,” says Barb. “We’ll be one nation of trolls under rock!”
“Trolls World Tour” is an update of the “Free To Be… You and Me’s” salute to individuality, tolerance, and comfort with one’s identity. Bathed in bright colours, set to kid friendly adaptations of pop, rock, rap and country hits (like “Trolls Just Wanna Have Fun”) and populated by vinyl creatures with DayGlo “Eraserhead” coifs and big goofy smiles, it’s a jukebox movie about finding the things that bring us together, not divide us, while maintaining the things that make us unique. “Denying our differences is denying the truth of who we are,” says King Quincy (Parliament-Funkadelic’s George Clinton).
Good messages wrapped up in a glitzy, frenetic package is the stock in trade of kid’s entertainment and “Trolls World Tour” delivers in those regards. The colourful visuals, seemingly designed by a Troll on acid, will make kid’s eyeballs dance and the messages are delivered with the subtlety of a slap to the face, so check and check. What’s missing is the wonderful weirdness that made the original “Trolls” film the strangest children’s entertainment since “H.R. Pufnstuf.” Story wise, this one feels formulaic with less of an edge, but it does deliver a blast of energy that will keep its target audience—kids and stoned adults—happy.
The name Paul Feig is closely associated with comedy but with “A Simple Favor” he takes a step away from the laughs to present a story of intrigue and suspense that begins with a friend asking for a little help.
The labyrinthine plot begins with Stephanie (Anna Kendrick), the plucky single mom of a young son. She’s a keener, a food vlogger who is always the first to volunteer for everything at her son’s school. When she meets Emily (Blake Lively), the blunt talking mother of her son’s schoolmate, she is smitten. Stephanie is lonely, a widower who pours herself into work and her son’s life. With Emily she discovers the pleasures of pouring a martini in the afternoon as a “reset” for the day. The pair bond almost immediately despite Emily’s warning, “You do not want to be friends with me, trust me.”
When Emily asks Stephanie for the “simple favour,” of picking her son up after school, the eager mom agrees. Trouble is, Emily disappears into the great wide open, leaving Stephanie stuck with a child and grieving husband (Henry Golding). As she struggles to find closure and poke around in the corners of Emily’s life she discovers her friend wasn’t quite the person she thought she was. “Secrets are like margarine,” Steph says, “easy to spread but bad for the heart.”
From here the film deep dives into a twisty-turny story of intrigue, misplaced love and insurance scams.
Midway through Stephanie asks, “Are you trying to Diabolique me?” It’s a call back to a 1955 psychological thriller that saw terrible people plan a murder while maintaining a perfect alibi. There are missing bodies and other comparisons to “A Simple Favor” but the similarities end there. Feig gets great performances from Kendrick and Lively but is a bit too leisurely in getting into the meat of the matter.
The opening scenes of the friendship building between the two women sparkle. Kendrick is wide eyed and naïve, with just a hint of the darkness that may lie beneath her perfectly manicured soccer mom exterior. By comparison Lively is an exotic beast, decked out in designer clothes and perfectly tousled main of blonde hair. Her candour puts Stephanie and the audience off balance. She loves her son Nikki, but money woes occupy her mind. Despite living in a rand home with all the amenities she’s on the verge of bankruptcy. “The nicest thing I could do for Nikki,” she says, “is blow my brains out.” Their friendship always seemed unconventional but Emily’s frankness hints at what is to come.
That’s the good stuff. From there “A Simple Favor” becomes a maze of good and bad intentions, fake outs, incest and gaslighting. Motivations shift and the twists pile up as the plot takes a darker tone. Trouble is, it takes too long to get where it is going. The interplay between the characters remains enjoyable but as they become increasingly unreliable narrators the story feels convoluted and stretched.
