SYNOPSIS: “Megalopolis,” a new fable from legendary director Francis Ford Coppola, now playing in theatres, is a mix of Ancient Roman politics, sci fi, and even a little bit of mime.
Visionary artist Cesar (Adam Driver) has plans to build a utopian city to inspire hope within the rotting framework of New Rome. “When we leap into the unknown,” he says, “we prove that we are free.” He’s up against the corrupt Mayor Franklyn Cicero (Giancarlo Esposito), agent of chaos Clodio Pulcher (Shia LaBeouf) and the threat of partisan warfare.
CAST: Adam Driver, Giancarlo Esposito, Nathalie Emmanuel, Aubrey Plaza, Shia LaBeouf, Jon Voight, Laurence Fishburne, Talia Shire, Jason Schwartzman, Kathryn Hunter, Grace VanderWaal, Chloe Fineman, James Remar, D. B. Sweeney, and Dustin Hoffman. Directed by Francis Ford Coppola.
REVIEW: As idiosyncratic a movie as we’re likely to see this year, “Megalopolis,” the forty-years-in-the-making passion project from Francis Ford Coppola, is equal parts hammy and hopeful, dense and dazzling. It’s the work of a filmmaker with nothing left to prove, and brims with imagination, ambition and, unfortunately, self-indulgence.
Coppola, who says he rewrote the script for “Megalopolis” at least 300 times, empties out the idea drawer, producing a script that overflows with his thoughts on legacy, survival and hope for the future. Using lessons learned from the intrigue of Roman history, he throws in a dollop of sci- fi—Cesar Catalina (Driver) can stop time with a flourish of his hands—to tell a story of utopian values pitted against city hall.
It’s a mix of Ayn Rand and Marcus Aurelius, and not unfamiliar ground for the director. He has essayed the effects of power, political paranoia and the bloom of love in previous films like “The Godfather,” “The Conversation” and “One from the Heart.” The difference is, those movies, while often epic in scope, didn’t take a kitchen sink approach to the storytelling.
“Metropolis” is overstuffed to the point of bursting. The grand vision of warring billionaires and politicians is rendered almost incomprehensible by scenes that never lift off or, worse, feel randomly inserted into the narrative.
Coppola sets his story against a city in a fall of the Roman Empire decline, which should bring along with it very high stakes, but there is never a sense of danger or tension.
Instead, head-scratching line readings, spontaneous Shakespearean monologuing, and unintentionally funny, heightened performances distract from the actual story. “Megalopolis” is operatic in its ambition, experimental in its execution and rather baffling in its intentions.
Perhaps the film’s most telling line is a quote from Roman emperor Marcus Aurelius: “The object of life is not to be on the side of the majority.”
And so it goes with “Metropolis.” Despite the presence of big-name talent like Adam Driver and Aubrey Plaza, this is a deliberating non-commercial film. Coppola’s vision is experimental, difficult to penetrate, impossible to pigeonhole, and occasionally thrilling, but mostly a slog.
SYNOPSIS: “My Old Ass,” a coming-of-age dramedy starring Maisy Stella and Aubrey Plaza, and now playing in theatres, asks a simple question: Would you like a sneak peak of your adult life complete with all the good, the bad and the ugly the future will offer? Maisy Stella plays Elliott, an eighteen-year-old whose future self guides her through the landmines of growing up and falling in love with one vital piece of advice, “Avoid anyone named Chad.”
CAST: Maisy Stella, Percy Hynes White, Maddie Ziegler, Kerrice Brooks, Aubrey Plaza. Written and directed by Megan Park.
REVIEW: Despite a title that suggests a 1990s teen comedy, “My Old Ass” is a surreal coming-of-age story that stays anchored to reality with natural, heartfelt performances and a great deal of humor. In her second feature film, writer/director Megan Park displays an empathetic hand as the movie morphs from a standard(ish) teen comedy opening to a heartfelt finale.
The appearance of 39 nine-year-old Elliott suggests “My Old Ass” will be a fantasy, a “Peggy Sue Got Married” style riff on growing up, but it stays earthbound as an examination of the first blushes of new love touched by melancholy.
The film’s heart is Stella, who, as young, optimistic Elliott wrestles with real life situations and feelings about her sexuality, her future and the notion of leaving her teen years in the rear-view mirror. Her charismatic presence gives “My Old Ass” a bittersweet but never sentimental edge that elevates its love story above and beyond a Nicolas Sparks style romance, or a teen comedy trope.
As older, world-weary Elliott, Plaza, who only appears in three scenes but whose presence informs the entire movie, uses her trademark snark like a sword, but here her sarcasm feels like the shield that protects her from the ups and downs of a complicated life. It’s great work, and while the two actors don’t resemble one another, they share an energy that binds the two halves of the character together.
“My Old Ass” is an entertaining, and often funny look at the importance of embracing life fully, in all its joy as well as its disappointments and agonies.
All the Guy Ritchie trademarks that made so many of his other films so much fun are visible in “Operation Fortune: Ruse de guerre,” a new action adventure now streaming on Amazon Prime. Jason Statham comes back for a fifth kick at the can with the director, bringing with him the gravelly voice and fisticuffs first made famous in Ritchie’s “Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels.” There’s also some comedy, outrageous crime, slick cameras moves and a bangin’ soundtrack.
Why then, does it feel been there done that? Is it that familiarity has bred a certain kind of contempt, or is Ritchie coasting on his merits?
All-round action man Orson Fortune (Statham), tech genius Sarah Fidel (Aubrey Plaza) and sniper J.J. Davies (Bugzy Malone) are members of a top-secret British government agency run by Nathan Jasmine (Cary Elwes). Their latest assignment involves retrieving something called “The Handle,” a gewgaw—we’re not really told—that could cause a rift in the world order.
“We don’t know what’s been stolen,” says Nathan. “That remains a mystery for you to solve. But we need to stop it from getting onto the open market. Threat’s imminent.”
Before it can be sold on the black market, the crew must infiltrate billionaire arms dealer Greg Simmonds’s (Hugh Grant) inner circle. Their ticket in? International movie star and Simmonds’s favorite actor Danny Francesco (Josh Hartnett).
“The best agents are stars,” says Orson, “and the best actors are movie stars.”
“Operation Fortune: Ruse de guerre” feels like a Xerox copy of the movies that made Ritchie and Statham famous. The world-ending stakes are a bit higher, and there is more lifestyle porn—like private jets and global locations—but the fast pace, the late movie reveal (we eventually find out what The Handle actually does) and the “colourful” characters that have populated his movies from the get go all return but the glow is a bit dimmer this time.
Hugh Grant’s Michael Caine impersonation is a blast, and Ritchie still knows how to move a camera during the action scenes, but because we are so familiar with so many of the elements in play here, “Operation Fortune: Ruse de guerre” almost feels like a sequel to a reboot of a sequel. It’s the law of diminishing returns. The further away you get from the source, the less effective the movie will be. In this case, the sum of all the parts is a bland espionage story that is, at best, serviceable.
“Emily the Criminal,” a new crime drama, now playing in theatres, and starring Aubrey Plaza, uses ripped-from-the-headlines topics—student debt, the terrible job market and the gig economy—to fuel a story of a search for liberation.
Plaza plays Emily, a young woman whose criminal record, although minor, and short temper make it difficult for her to advance up the job ladder. Stuck in a dead-end restaurant job, she barely scrapes by, let alone put a dent in her $70,000 student debt.
Desperate, she takes a job working with the slick-talking black-market thief Youcef (Theo Rossi). The scam is simple. She’ll be a “dummy shopper,” someone who buys merchandise with stolen and forged credit cards. A quick $200 payoff later, her cool and calm demeanor impresses Youcef who offers her a bigger, though more dangerous job for the next day.
Seduced by the money, she goes into business, personally and professionally, with Youcef. She begins earning good money, and, as their relationship blossoms, finds love. But when she gets sloppy, scamming the same store more than once in a week, she learns the easy money can disappear as quickly as it appeared. Unless she does something about bit.
“Emily the Criminal” is a hard-boiled look at the intersection of desperation and opportunity.
Director John Patton Ford and Plaza craft a portrait of Emily, a millennial fighting for her piece of the American Dream, even though it remains just out of her reach. She is a complex character, edgy yet sympathetic, messy but focused. Plaza gives voice to Emily’s frustration of being forever punished for a mistake, but never panders to the audience in an attempt to be likable. She has lost faith in the polite society that hasn’t afforded her opportunity, so she steps outside it, and doesn’t look back. We may not make the same decisions as she, but her motivations, under the weight of a future filled with student debt and crappy jobs, come off as understandable. That is a credit to Plaza’s performance that reveals both Emily’s vulnerability and her steeliness.
Thanks to Plaza, “Emily the Criminal” is a fascinating character study, but crime aspects of the story are just as compelling. Like its main character, the movie is a mix of elements. Social commentary, crime drama, a hint of romance and character work, whose sum fit together like puzzle pieces.
“Black Bear,” now in select theatres and on VOD, is a psychological drama that draws you in with a false sense of familiarity before a mid-movie turn that turns expectations upside down.
Set in a remote B&B on a beautiful lake in Upstate New York run by semi-pro musician Gabe (Christopher Abbott) and his pregnant, former dancer wife Blair (Sarah Gadon), are the Bickersons by way of “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” No comment from either of them goes unanswered by a barb or withering look. “It’s not that I can’t stand that you have thoughts about the world,” Blair says to Gabe in one heated exchange. “It’s that I can’t stand the thoughts about the world you have.”
Into this insular situation comes Allison (Aubrey Plaza), an actress-turned-filmmaker who booked a weekend away hoping to find inspiration in nature for her next movie. “I’m waiting for something meaningful to happen to me,” she says. Instead, she becomes entwined in the personal lives of her hosts. Secrets are shared, recriminations fly and hostilities arise.
The talky first half, with a long, drunken discussion about traditional gender roles, leads into Part Two: The Bear by the Boat House, a surreal jump to the filming of the movie-within-the-movie. Without giving anything of substance away, Gabe is now the film’s egomaniacal director while Blair is now Allison’s co-star in a tortured indie film that seems to be taking its cues from the real-life retreat. Themes of the creative process, temptation and the pain of toxic relationships introduced in the first half are further reflected in part two.
“Black Bear” is an audacious movie that defies categorization. It’s playing in select theatres, wherever theatres are open, but I suspect it will mostly be seen on VOD. That’s a shame because the layered story is not something you can digest casually while thumbing through Twitter or eating a sandwich. The personal dynamics on display are filled with conflict and every line is a trigger that sets the next into motion.
The performances bring the difficult material to life. Abbott and Gadon are very good, but it is Plaza whose work leaves a mark. She brings a furious intensity to Allison that will blow the hair back on anyone only familiar with her work as the darkly disinterested April Ludgate on the sitcom “Parks and Recreation.” It’s a complex and challenging performance that is bracingly and simultaneously real and surreal.
“Black Bear” will confound viewers looking for easy answers and a neatly tied up bow at the end. Like the creative process it portrays, it is unknowable in its entirety, a deliberate cypher meant to engage both your head and your heart.
“Something is wrong with Chucky,” says 13-year-old Andy Barclay (Gabriel Bateman) in the new horror movie “Child’s Play.” Anyone who grew up in the ten-year Classic Chucky era—1988 to 1998, from “Child’s Play” to “Bride of Chucky”—knows exactly what is wrong with the cute red-haired Chucky “Good Guys” doll; that he is actually a murderous piece of plastic containing the soul of a serial killer. Seven movies, a television series, comic books and video games later comes a new Chucky menace, starring Aubrey Plaza and Mark Hamill as the voice of the killer doll.
Plaza is Karen Barclay, a widower and mother of Andy. Looking to make a new start in a new town they relocate. “I know this move has been really touch,” she says to him, “but you said you were going to try and make new friends.” To help smooth the transition Karen buys Andy a new toy, a robotic Buddi doll that can connect to and control everything. “Remember, it’s refurbished,” she says, “so it may not work perfectly.”
The two become BFFs but playtime comes to an end when strange, deadly things start happening. As the bodies pile up Detective Mike Norris (Brian Tyree Henry) believes the boy and not the toy may be behind all the trouble.
“Toy Story” this ain’t.
“Child’s Play” takes liberties with the ideas from the original Chucky movies but retains the silly slasher fun that made this franchise so much fun in the first place. By cleverly updating the Chucky’s possessed scenario to involve technology gone amok, it’s a clever, blood-splattered commentary on our reliance on social media to fill a gap left by personal relationships. Add to that some 80s gore-inspired effects and a “Goonies” style cast of supporting characters and you’re left with a film that rides the line between retro and completely up to date.
I wonder if, in 200 years, aliens will study all our dead Instagram accounts to gain insight into our way of life. If so, you could forgive them if they surmised that everyone in 2017 lived perfect, #blessed lives filled with the wonders of avocado toast and gorgeous sunsets.
The perfectly curated worldview of Instagram is at the heart of Aubrey Plaza’s dark new film Ingrid Goes West. The former Parks and Recreation star plays the title character, a lonely New Yorker who befriends people on Instagram only to get upset when they don’t let her into their lives. Fixated on a Californian social media star with a seemingly perfect life played by Elizabeth Olsen, Ingrid uses her inheritance money and, as the title tells us, goes west in search of the perfect life she sees on her phone everyday.
“Ingrid is in every scene of the movie,” Plaza says, “and I’ve never been in a movie where I’m in every single scene. It was exciting to me, the idea that I would have so much time to take that character on a journey and dig really deep and peel back all those layers. I really related to the idea of feeling like you want to connect and you want someone to like you.”
Plaza is on Twitter (@evilhag) and Instagram (plazadeaubrey) but says the movie reinforced the idea that everything on social media is not real life.
“It really reminded me of how all of the perfect, beautiful things you see are not real,” she says. “They’re purposeful. The film is a great reminder that we are all flawed and we have to be careful about the stories we tell about ourselves. I think it is important to build awareness about how it makes us feel at the end of the day.
“For me, personally, I always try to be authentic in every way that I can, but it really hard on social media because you have so much control over what you can show. As a consumer of it I think the movie has taught me that it is not always what it seems.”
Ingrid Goes West has the makings of either a comedy or psychological thriller but mostly plays like a cautionary tale. As a portrait of a woman who buys into the InstaMyth of an effortlessly curated life, it’s a withering comment on the real stories behind social media’s hashtagged pictures. Unlike her onscreen alter ego Plaza understands ‘likes” do not equal love.
“I’m really interested in talking about social media and encouraging other people to talk about it and how it is affecting them and how much time they spend on it,” she says, before adding, “Personally I hope it goes away. I hope it doesn’t stick around forever. I’m sure it will change. It will morph into something else.”
The thirty-three year old actress admits social media has positive aspects but remains sceptical of its effects.
“There are people who get support there and it is a global connector so I don’t want to dismiss those parts of it,” she says, “but I think there is something so isolating about it. That is what I really don’t like. There is more value in being present and living in the world that you are in.”
Recently an article titled, “My Instagram’s Perfect, My Real Life is Not,” described the author’s myriad of professional and personal problems. It’s a laundry list of millennial angst framed by a line that appears midway through the story. Everything is real life was going wrong, but, she says, “you wouldn’t know any of this if you were to look at my social media presence.”
It’s not an uncommon story. In 200 years from now aliens, who will only understand the world through dead Instagram accounts, will believe that everyone lived perfect, #blessed lives filled with the wonders of avocado toast and gorgeous sunsets. Carefully curated Instagram pages, and a woman who loves them, are at the heart of “Ingrid Goes West,” a new film starring Aubrey Plaza and Elizabeth Olsen.
Plaza plays Ingrid, a lonely New Yorker who befriends people on Instagram only to get upset when they don’t let her into their lives. “Lame and basic,” Ingrid goes so far as to show up, uninvited, to a “friend’s” wedding with a can of mace. Insta-blocked after that event, she fixates on Taylor Sloane (Olsen), a Californian social media star with a seemingly perfect life. With inherited money from her late mothers and state Ingrid, as the title tells us, goes west in search of the perfect life she sees on her phone everyday.
A fat bank account and plenty of nerve—Ingrid kidnaps Taylor’s dog so she can return him and insinuate herself into her life—she becomes friends with the InstaStar and her artist husband (Russell Wyatt). At first everything is hunky dory.
“You’re so funny. You’re so awesome. You’re the greatest person I have ever met,” gushes Taylor after knowing Ingrid for only a day. Soon, though, Ingrid is exposed for what she the possessive sociopath—a single white female for the Internet age—who gets jealous when Taylor hangs out or worse, is photographed with other people, and even her own brother.
“Ingrid Goes West” has the makings of either a comedy or psychological thriller but mostly plays like a cautionary tale. A portrait of a woman who buys into the InstaMyth of an effortlessly curated life, it’s a withering comment on the real stories behind social media’s hashtagged pictures. “Likes” do not equal love.
At the heart of this is Plaza, an actor unafraid to plumb the depths of desperation in her characters. Unlikeable in almost every way, Ingrid is as deep as a lunch tray and yet, because Plaza plays her as a human and not simply a caricature, she remains compelling.
Olsen, whose famous twin sisters were proto Instagram stars, embodies the kind of superficial social media maven who thinks nothing of asking—with a perfect vocal fry—a stranger to lay on the ground to take the perfect “candid” shot of her fabulous life. She’s the neo-American Dream, a perfectly fluffy confection with a dark heart and a permanent spot on the guest list for every hot club in town.
On the sidelines, but still memorable is O’Shea Jackson as Ingrid’s Batman-obsessed landlord Dan. He isn’t given much to do—he spends more time reading comics than cruising Instagram—but is a likeable and charming presence.
“Ingrid Goes West” essays the phony baloney world of social media but does so with grace and depth, exposing the disconnect many people feel in a digital world.
I have a brother but he’s not my bro, at least by the contemporary definition. My sibling and I are biologically brothers but neither of us fall into what the NPR Codeswitch blog described as the four rudimentary characteristics of “bro-iness”— jockish, dudely, stoner-ish and preppy.
There are as many ways to define bros and brahs as there are bros and brahs at your local frat house. Oxford Dictionary writer Katherine Connor Martin sums it up simply as “a conventional guy’s guy who spends a lot of time partying with other young men like himself.” The urban dictionary isn’t quite as elegant, describing bros as ”obnoxious partying males who are often seen at college parties… [standing] around holding a red plastic cup waiting for something exciting to happen so they can scream something that demonstrates how much they enjoy partying”
This weekend Zac Efron and Adam DeVine play brothers who are also bros in Mike and Dave Need Wedding Dates. Based on the real-life exploits of Mike and Dave Stangle, the guys get out-broed at their sister’s Hawaiian wedding by broettes Tatiana and Alice (Aubrey Plaza and Anna Kendrick).
In real life Mike, Dave, Tatiana and Alice are the kind of people it might be fun to hang out with before ten o’clock at night, before the tequila shots and samplings from the mystery medicine cabinet have taken effect. After that, all bets are off. Luckily in Mike and Dave Need Wedding Dates, like so many bro movies before it, the screen separates us and we can sit back and observe them like cultural anthropologists, as if we’re studying animals in a zoo.
Hollywood has long had a bromance with bros. Lately in movies like Neighbors and Dirty Grandpa Efron has made a career of playing dim witted frat boys but to find the proto bros you have to go back to 1940. Starting with Road to Singapore Bob Hope and Bing Crosby cocktailed and adlibbed their way through seven Road movies playing two slightly skeezy men with boatloads of bravado and an unbreakable bond—at least until love interest Dorothy Lamour showed up.
National Lampoon’s Animal House was the next landmark of bro-cinema. From toga parties to food fights and doing The Worm on the dance floor, it’s a politically incorrect classic that celebrates the best and worst of bro culture.
A 1996 movie gave us the bro with a million catchphrases like “Vegas, baby,” “wingman,” “beautiful babies” and “you’re so money.” As Trent in Swingers Vince Vaughn gave a voice and brocabulary to a generation of bros. Jon Favreau wrote the script but many of the sayings came directly from the lips of his best friends and co-stars Vaughn and Ron Livingston.
No look at bro-cinema would be complete without a nod toward Will Ferrell. The comedian has broed out on screen many times but Old School’s Frank the Tank, a character who unravels after his wife leaves him, is King Bro. When he’s not doing beer bong hits (“Once it hits your lips, it’s so good!”) or streaking he lets his freak flag fly as one of the most over-the-top bros ever seen on screen.
Dean Wormer’s classic scolding from Animal House, “Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life, son,” doesn’t seem to apply, at least at the movies.
SYNOPSIS: “Megalopolis,” a new fable from legendary director Francis Ford Coppola, now playing in theatres, is a mix of Ancient Roman politics, sci fi, and even a little bit of mime.
