I join Shane Hewitt on his Bell Media Radio Network show to talk about Maya Rudolph returning to “Saturday Night Live” to play Kamala Harris in the show’s upcoming, landmark 50th season, the impact of pop stars like Ariana Grande on the upcoming American election and why Hollywood now says, “Our movies are for everyone!”
Then, I returned to the show for “Boozwe and Reviews.” This week we talk about the up-lifting prison set movie “Sing Sing” and learn how to make “toilet wine.”
SYNOPSIS: Based on real events, “Sing Sing,” a new drama starring Colman Domingo, and now playing in theatres, sees a group of Sing Sing Correctional Facility prisoners, members of the Rehabilitation Through the Arts program, stage their own original play, the time travelling comedy “Breakin’ The Mummy’s Code.”
CAST: Colman Domingo, Clarence “Divine Eye” Maclin, Sean San José, Paul Raci, David “Dap” Giraudy, Patrick “Preme” Griffin, Jon-Adrian Velazquez, Sean “Dino” Johnson
REVIEW: The unusual story of a group of prisoners who discover the power of art as a vehicle to break the self-imposed stereotypes that have shaped their lives, is a powerful, moving one. Dripping with empathy, “Sing Sing” has a theatre kid vibe, in an unconventional setting, that is infectious.
“Oz,” this ain’t.
Leading the charge is Domingo, hot off an Academy Award nomination for “Rustin.” His John “Divine G” Whitfield is an erudite character. In prison for murder, he writes plays, always has words of encouragement for fellow inmates and believes in the power of art to build community. But under a serene façade is boiling resentment and anger, disguised by a broad smile or studious look. It’s a lovely performance, filled with heart and hope, but also a hint of anguish for a life spent behind bars.
The rest of the cast, almost entirely made up of former Sing Sing Correctional Facility convicts, adds not only authenticity, but proof that the Rehabilitation Through the Arts program works. Their natural, committed performances show the inmates in a different light than we’re used to seeing in prison films. These are people who have made mistakes, no question, but who are much more than their mistakes and intimidating face tattoos. They are real people, who, as one of them says are in the group “to become human again and enjoy things that are not in our reality.”
The uplift and empathy on display is such a departure from prison set movies, it would be easy to be cynical about a movie like “Sing Sing.” But in its specificity the story becomes a universal story of the redemptive power of art and community. It’s a crowd-pleaser, and if you are prepared to give yourself to it, you may want to bring along some Kleenex.
Set in 1999, “Drive-Away Dolls,” a new LGBTQ2+ b-movie wannabe from director Ethan Coen in his first solo outing, feels like it emerged, untouched from the time before Y2K.
A loving throwback to the kind of independent, verging on experimental, filmmaking that made the Coen brothers famous, “Drive-Away Dolls” is a queer caper film whose action, after a brief but memorable prologue, begins when the uninhibited Jamie (Margaret Qualley) cheats on girlfriend Sukie (Beanie Feldstein) and gets thrown out of their apartment.
“I’ve had it with love,” Jamie says. “It might be alright for the bards and the troubadours, but I don’t think it works for the twentieth, soon to be twenty-first, century lesbian.”
Looking for a change of pace, Jamie decides to hit the road, along with Marian (Geraldine Viswanathan), a reserved friend who is bored of her job and her life. They acquire a drive-away car (a vehicle that needs to be delivered from one city to another) and head off for a fresh start in Tallahassee.
Trouble is, the car they were given contains very valuable cargo that kingpin Chief (Colman Domingo) and his dopey henchmen Arliss (Joey Slotnick) and Flint (C. J. Wilson) need to get their hands on.
“Drive-Away Dolls” has many of the trademarks of the kind of 90s indie cinema the Coens and Tarantino left in their wake. There’s smart-alecky dialogue, over-the-top, bickering bad guys, a mysterious briefcase, a preposterous crime and “not your garden variety decapitation,” all wrapped in a tidy 84-minute package.
Unfortunately, it’s not an entirely welcome u-turn to 90s form for Coen. For all the free-wheeling vibes the movie emits, it’s a bit of a slog, even at its abbreviated runtime. Choppy storytelling, low stakes and an emphasis on quirky caricatures over real characters slow the roll of what could have been a fun road trip romp. The pitch perfect sweet spot between serious and silly, Coen achieved (with brother Joel) in “O Brother, Where Art Thou?” and “The Big Lebowski” is sadly missing here.
The performances are amiable. Qualley’s intermittent Texas accent is distracting, but Viswanathan brings the nerdy charm to Marion. The great Bill Camp steals scenes as Curlie, the crusty drive-away clerk, and Pedro Pascal has a memorable cameo.
“Drive-Away Dolls,” written by Coen and his wife, and long-time editor, Tricia Cooke is about hitting the road and cutting loose but never puts the pedal to the metal.
The glitzy new musical version of “The Color Purple” maintains the talking points of Alice Walker’s Pulitzer Prize-winning novel and Stephen Spielberg’s Oscar-nominated film adaptation, but adds in a touch of old Hollywood glamor and rousing gospel, blues and jazz songs.
Set in Jim Crow era rural Georgia, Fantasia Barrino reprises her role from the Broadway stage to play Celie Harris, a timid young woman whose life is marred abuse and separation from loved ones. Impregnated by her father when she was just a teen, her baby is given away. Later, when she is shipped off to live with the abusive Albert Johnson (Colman Domingo), a man she is forced to call “Mister,” she is disconnected from her beloved sister Nettie (Ciara).
The cruel and overbearing Mister tells his terrified wife she’ll never see her sister again and blocks any communication between the two. “Whatever I say, go,” he tells her.
Isolated from everything she has ever known, she perseveres through strength of will, the power of imagination and the friendship of the indomitable Sofia (Danielle Brooks) and flamboyant blues chanteuse Shug Avery (Taraji P. Henson).
Reimagined as a period drama with a healthy dose of magic realism, the new “The Color Purple” is a journey of self-discovery and triumph over adversity as Celie opts to take agency over her life and not be a docile victim. Despite her trauma, she has an eye to the future, hope and, above all, resilience.
Barrino plays Celie as soft-spoken, allowing the songs, like the moving “Superpower,” to stand out, fuelled by cathartic, powerhouse performances. The role is a weighty one, a stand-in for the evolution of many marginalized people, but this version of “The Color Purple” is an emotional Broadway-style crowd pleaser that turns Celie’s ordeal into a journey of empowerment.
The addition of musical weaves joy into the story.
Director Blitz Bazawule allows Celie’s flights of imagination to temper the story’s built-in oppressive tone. The film’s opening scene, featuring Mister playing banjo, while his horse’s hoof clomps keep time, is subtle, while a scene in which Shug, (a terrific Henson), takes Celie to the movies, becomes a luscious Art Deco fantasy reimagination of the song “What About Love?” It is lavish and lovely.
In terms of staging, one show stopping scene sees Celie sing to Shug while perched atop of spinning gramophone record. It’s a blast of old-school Hollywood glamour that cleverly demonstrates Celie’s use of imagination as a coping mechanism.
This isn’t the “The Color Purple” of old. Boldly stylized, it embraces humor, music, imagination and leaves some space for Mister’s redemption and a slightly more explicit depiction of the relationship between Celie and Shug than in the previous film version. More than anything, though, it is a tuneful, joyful journey from powerless to empowered, from heartbroken to healed that is sure to entertain and inspire in equal measure.
In “Rustin,” a new reverential historical drama now streaming on Netflix, Emmy Award winner Colman Domingo plays Bayard Rustin, a gay Black man whose vision and tenacity had an outsized effect on the Civil Rights Movement. He’s been largely forgotten by history but “Rustin,” produced by Barack and Michelle Obama’s production company Higher Ground, serves as a potent reminder of his activist legacy.
The story of the run-up to 1963’s March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom and the famous “I Have a Dream” speech, “Rustin” sets the stage with harrowing images of 1950s segregation.
Cut to 1960 and a plan between Rustin and Reverend Martin Luther King Jr’s. (Aml Ameen) to launch a protest march on the Democratic National Convention. The plan is thwarted by U.S. Congressman Adam Clayton Powell Jr’s. (Jeffrey Wright) threat of a misinformation campaign, linking the two men romantically. Powell’s allegation, while untrue, causes a rift between the two men that sees Rustin kicked to the curb.
Three years later Rustin hatches another plan, a massive, non-violent march on Washington to pressure the Kennedy administration to initiate a strong federal civil rights bill in Congress.
With little to no support from DC’s power base, due to racism, his former communist membership and his sexuality—“When it comes to the old guard,” he says, “I’m considered a pariah.”—Rustin seeks support from his estranged friend King. “Do this Dr. King,” he says. “Own your power.”
The next eight tumultuous weeks find Rustin balancing his personal life—an affair with married preacher Elias (Johnny Ramey)—and his work with King and their band of “angelic troublemakers” as they arrange one of the largest political rallies for human rights in United States history. “On August 28,” he says, “Black, white, young, old, rich, working-class, poor will descend on Washington, DC.”
“Rustin” tells the story of a landmark moment in the battle for Civil Rights, but this isn’t just a history lesson. It’s really is a character study of the charming, driven man who made it happen.
The movie itself is stagey and straightforward, prone to grandstanding with an over-reliance on exposition, but it comes alive whenever the charismatic Domingo is on screen.
As portrayed in the film, Rustin is a powerhouse, a man predisposed to challenging authority, to giving voice to hard truths, to never backing down. Domingo inhabits him, embracing the strength to never apologize for who he is or his quest for justice and equality. “On the day I was born Black, I was also born homosexual. They either believe in justice and freedom for all, or they do not,” he rails against his detractors. It’s a muscular, timely performance that makes up for the film’s other shortcomings.
By times, “Rustin” feels rushed. Several scenes end prematurely and without explanation, giving the film an odd rhythm. But, the final moments as the march comes to life, are moving, empowering and pack an emotional punch, as does the portrait of a behind the scenes trailblazer and hero.
“Ruby Gillman, Teenage Kraken,” a new animated coming-of-age story from Dreamworks, now playing in theatres, flips the usual idea of the tentacled sea creature from fearsome to heroic.
The Kraken-out-of-water tale isn’t a franchise—although it may be the beginning of one—but it does owe a debt to recent Pixar films “Turning Red” and “Luca,” movies about the transformation of body and expectations.
Years after leaving the sea to live on land and raise their family, ocean creatures Agatha (Toni Collette) and Peter Gillman (Colman Domingo) are secretive about their past. “We’re from Canada,” they say to explain away their blue skin, gills and lack of spines.
Fifteen-year-old daughter Ruby (Lana Condor) goes along with the lie, and admits to “barely pulling off this human thing.” At school, she feels different and has a hard time fitting in outside of her squad, a small group of BFFs.
“I just want to be Ruby Gillman, normal teenager,” she says.
Despite her mother’s strict rule of never going near the water, days before the prom, when her high school, skater-boy crush Connor (Jaboukie Young-White) almost drowns, Ruby dives into the ocean to rescue him. Contact with salt water releases out her true self, a giant luminescent, kraken. “I’m already a little weird,” she says, “but I can’t hide this.”
In short order Ruby learns of her heritage, and that her grandmother, Grandmahmah (Jane Fonda) is a warrior queen, the Ultimate Lordess of and ruler of the Seven Seas, and charged with keeping the undersea world safe from the main maritime threat—evil mermaids.
“But people love mermaids,” says Ruby.
“Of course they do,” says Grandmahmah. “People are stupid.”
Grandmahmah wants Ruby to become her successor and possibly settle an age-old score.
Themes of self-acceptance, family love and overcoming insecurity are common in films for kids and young adults, and “Ruby Gillman, Teenage Kraken” is no different. But what it lacks in originality—“Turning Red” got to the transformation as a metaphor for coming out of your shell first—it makes up for with good humor, fun voice work, particularly from Jane Fonda and Annie Murphy as a mermaid, and an engaging lead character.
Ruby is a sweet-natured math nerd wrapped up in a blanket of insecurity. As she attempts to navigate high school and her newfound kraken alter-ego, she never loses the teen aura that makes her so relatable. She may be able to morph into a giant, but the biggest things in her life remain her family and friends. It’s heartfelt, and somehow, not as sappy as it sounds.
“Ruby Gillman, Teenage Kraken” may not break new ground, or part the oceans, but it tells its story with panache, finding a way to merge a kid-friendly story with some decidedly adult jokes.
“Transformers: Rise of the Beasts,” the globe-trotting seventh installment in the “Transformers” live-action film series, is both a sequel and a prequel. Set in 1994, it wedges the story between the events of “Bumblebee,” set in 1987, and “Transformers,” which takes place in 2007.
Primarily based on Hasbro’s “Beast Wars” storyline, it reboots the franchise with a new cast and a new tribe of Transformers.
The story begins as Noah (Anthony Ramos), an unemployed Brooklyn-based electronics expert, desperate for cash to help his ailing little brother, steals a silver-blue Porsche 964 Carrera RS 3.8. What he doesn’t realize is that the car is actually a rebellious Autobot named Mirage (voice of Pete Davidson) with the ability turn invisible and create illusions.
Meanwhile, while working at a museum on Ellis Island, artifact researcher Elena (Dominique Fishback) discovers a bird sculpture with unusual markings and the symbol of the Maximals, the mostly peaceful descendants of the Autobots. More fuel-efficient than their ancestors, with a cry of “Maximals, MAXIMIZE,” they transform into animals like a western lowland gorilla (Ron Perlman), a peregrine falcon (Michelle Yeoh), a white rhinoceros (David Sobolov) or a cheetah (Tongayi Chirisa).
Inadvertently engaging a key for interdimensional space travel, Elena attracts the attention of the heroic Optimus Prime (voice of Peter Cullen), the Maximals, the dark, planet-destroying god Unicron (Colman Domingo) and an evil subgroup of the Decepticons called the Terrorcons.
“Once I have this key,” snarls Unicron, “I alone will reign supreme.”
If the planet is to be saved, the Autobots, Maximals, Noah and Elena must join forces, travel to a remote village in Peru and secure the all-powerful key. “This is about the fate of all living things,” says Optimus Primal (Perlman).
“Transformers: Rise of the Beasts” delivers what fans expect from the franchise. The transformations from car-to-character are cool, the action scenes deliver the expected heavy metal punch, Optimus Prime is as stentorian as ever and the Maximals are underused, but pretty cool.
Director Steve Caple Jr. also adds in an appealing human element with the addition of Ramos and Fishback, and even the alien robots are imbued with a bit more soul—and in Mirage’s case, more personality—than usual.
It’s a shame then, that the simple story isn’t more interesting. The individual elements work well, in some cases better than in Michael Bay’s franchise instalments, but we’ve seen too many end-of-the-world scenarios in recent years. It may be Armageddon time, but familiarity breeds, well, maybe not contempt, but complacency. The stakes just don’t seem all that high because they’re hung on a predictable story with a generic superhero premise.
Having said all that, “Transformers: Rise of the Beasts” is a good time at the movies. Sure, it could use a little more air in the tires in the mid-section and there is way too much exposition as we reach the end game, but it delivers what matters to fans: rock ‘em, sock ‘em robot action writ large.
It had to happen. We’ve seen movies based on comic books, board games and trading cards. Now comes “Zola,” a darkly comedic crime drama, now playing in theatres, that was inspired by a 148-tweet thread by A’Ziah King a.k.a. @zolarmoon. “You wanna hear a story about why me and this b*tch here fell out?” she writes. “It’s kind of long but full of suspense.”
When we first meet Zola (Taylour Paige) she is a Detroit waitress trying to take an order from Stephani (Riley Keough) and her friend. Stephani is flirty, playfully inappropriate and soon the two bond. Both are exotic dancers, and share a similar world view. The very next day Stephani calls with an offer. She invites Zola on a road trip to Florida to perform at a strip club and make some fast cash.
Needing money, Zola hastily agrees but suspicions are raised when Stephani’s hapless boyfriend Derek (Nicholas Braun) and the mysterious X (Colman Domingo) come along for the cross-country drive.
Once in Florida, it becomes clear that Zola is in over her head, the target of a set-up by Stephani and X. It’s going to be a long, dangerous weekend for everyone involved.
“Zola” is much more than a Twitter storm. Director Janicza Bravo (who also co-wrote the script with Jeremy O. Harris) sets a frantic pace, unfurling the story with urgency, humour and clever sound design. The result is a slick look at a gritty story that places us in Zola’s shoes. She made a bad decision to go south with someone she barely knew, but now, like her, we’re caught up as things spin out of hand.
The tour guides for this chaotic trip are Paige and Keough. They take turns stealing scenes, filling the screen with bravura performances.
Paige plays Zola as impetuous but strong, vulnerable but powerful. Zola could have been played as a victim, but Paige flips that script, allowing her character to be in control in an out-of-control situation.
The performance is at odds with Keough’s work. She embraces Stephani’s messiness, playing up the cavalier attitude that masks her character’s pain. It’s a nervy performance, both funny and tragic.
“Zola” is a roller-coaster ride up until its final moments. An abrupt ending leaves many unanswered questions, but until then, it feels like the most in-the-moment 2021 movie to date.
If you took all the gun play out of “Without Remorse,” the new Michael B. Jordan thriller on Amazon Prime Video, the movie would only be about 10 minutes long. The Tom Clancy adaptation is a bullet ballet that plays like a throwback to 80s matinee action movies.
When we first meet John Clark (Jordan) he’s leading an elite team of US Navy SEALs on a dangerous top-secret mission in Syria to liberate a CIA operative taken hostage by ex-Russian military forces.
Cut to three months later. Back in the United States, the quiet life Clark and his pregnant wife Pam (Lauren London) have created for themselves is shattered by Russian assassins who invade their home. Looking for revenge, the Russian hit team kill Pam before Clark is able to off three of the four hitmen. The fourth gunman fires back, leaving Clark for dead, riddled with bullets.
As Clark recuperates in hospital, his colleagues, SEAL Lt. Commander Karen Greer (Jodie Turner-Smith), CIA agent Robert Ritter (Jamie Bell) and Secretary of Defense Thomas Clay (Guy Pearce), determine how to best respond to a Russian attack on U.S. soil.
Not satisfied with the official way of doing things, Clark becomes a one-man army, seeking revenge and answers. He is the very definition of a man you don’t want to mess with. He’s a killing machine, especially when you take away the only thing he had to live for. He tracks down a Russian diplomat he thinks is responsible for the murder of his wife and coerces information out of him in a spectacular and completely illegal way. “They brought the war to my house,” he says. “The contract is broken. They’re going to play by my rules now.”
His act of retribution lands him in prison but he’s able to trade the sensitive information he garnered in his one-man mission for a second chance at revenge. This time with the cooperation of the CIA and military.
One secretive flight to Russia later, cue the carnage and conspiracy.
“Without Remorse” is an extremely violent movie with more bullets than brains.
Director Stefano Sollima stages intense action scenes and isn’t afraid to let the bodies fall where they may. Unfortunately, it’s in the handling of the other stuff, the intrigue, that the movie comes up short. In between bullet blasts a conspiracy slowly comes into focus, but it is never developed. Buried beneath an ever-increasing body count is the broader and more interesting picture of governmental tampering with world politics. Countries need outside enemies, it is suggested, or people will turn on their neighbors looking for someone to hate. It’s a timely message, a bit of debatable ideology, that could have been the underpinning for a rich subplot. Instead, “Without Remorse” is a standard issue shoot ‘em up.
Jordan brings charisma and physicality to the role, but is saddled with Steven Seagal-level dialogue. “Death follows me around,” he says in a line that could be from any number of direct-to-DVD action films from the last thirty years.
“Without Remorse” starts off with a bang—many of them in fact—but ends as a regression to cold war paranoia fuelled by bullets and brawn.
I join Shane Hewitt on his Bell Media Radio Network show to talk about Maya Rudolph returning to “Saturday Night Live” to play Kamala Harris in the show’s upcoming, landmark 50th season, the impact of pop stars like Ariana Grande on the upcoming American election and why Hollywood now says, “Our movies are for everyone!”
