SYNOPSIS: In “Highest 2 Lowest,” the new film from director Spike Lee, Denzel Washington plays a music mogul faces a moral dilemma as he attempts to protect his friends and family from a kidnapping plot and stave off the takeover of his legendary record label, Stackin’ Hits Records.
CAST: Denzel Washington, Ilfenesh Hadera, Jeffrey Wright, ASAP Rocky, and Ice Spice. Directed by Spike Lee.
REVIEW: When Spike Lee’s “Highest 2 Lowest,” a modern-day reimagining of Akira Kurosawa’s 1963 film “High and Low,” is firing on all cylinders it is a thing of propulsive beauty. A subway chase sequence, based on the car chase in “The French Connection,” is edge of your seat stuff, and a showdown between music mogul David King (Denzel Washington) and rapper Yung Felony (A$AP Rocky), is an acting masterclass with the intensity of a rap battle.
Those scenes represent the movie in full flight, and they are vital and exciting, the kind of filmmaking and performances that jump off the screen. Both scenes up the stakes for everyone involved, which is lucky, because the rest of the film, while fraught with complications, is never imbued with a sense of danger. Sure, there are guns, a kidnapping and a ransom bag filled with 17.5 million dollars, but this isn’t a crime drama.
Not really.
Spike Lee and screenwriter Alan Fox use the kidnapping as a backdrop to explore fatherhood, relevancy in a changing world, ethical dilemmas, legacy and, of course, Lee’s favorite basketball team, the Knicks.
It makes for a dizzying, but uneven film.
The first hour, wallpapered with Howard Drossin’s melodramatic score, paints the gregarious David King as a man who lives up to his last name. He lives, with his wife Pam (Ilfanesh Hadera) and son Trey (Aubrey Joseph) in a NYC penthouse palace, decorated with museum quality art and mementos from King’s illustrious career. His record label, his life’s work, is about to be sold and he’s willing to risk it all to buy it back. “It’s not a risk,” he tells Pam, “it’s a rebirth.”
The business deal is thrown into jeopardy when a kidnapping plot (NO SPOILERS HERE) throws King’s life and finances into limbo. Forced to reckon with his past, present and future, King must make some very difficult choices.
The second hour, as the kidnapping plot kicks in and the financial talk fades, revs up the film’s momentum as King takes action to resolve the kidnapping and kickstart his personal and professional rebirth.
Howard Hawks once said that a great film has three great scenes and no bad ones, and while “Highest 2 Lowest” has great scenes, and the sheer force of Washington’s work ensures there are no bad ones, it feels as if the puzzle pieces don’t quite fit together. As the character work of the first half gives way to the more exciting second half, the film takes on a disjointed, idiosyncratic feel.
It never settles into a groove, it’s restless, idiosyncratic, mixing tones, themes and even film stocks. Even so, it’s compelling to watch Lee and Washington, two lions in winter, strut their stuff.
Washington hands in a bravura performance, almost Shakespearean in its theatricality. Like Washington said at the Cannes Film Festival before a screening of the film, “King Kong ain’t got s— on me.”
Lee captures that work in a movie that feels like a Spike Lee joint. It’s vibrant, in love with its characters and, even though it feels disordered, it’s a film that feels both contemporary and classic. It’s an utterly unique work that only Spike Lee could have made.
Ultimately, “Highest 2 Lowest” is a story about staying relevant for a new generation, about getting your groove back headlined to two artists who have never lost their groove.
SYNOPSIS: In “Gladiator II,” director Ridley Scott’s long-gestating sequel to his 2000 blockbuster of almost the same name, Paul Mescal plays Lucius, former heir to the Roman Empire, now forced to battle in the Colosseum after his home is invaded by General Marcus Acacius on the orders of Rome’s syphilitic, power-hungry emperors Caracalla (Fred Hechinger) and Geta (Joseph Quinn).
CAST: Paul Mescal, Pedro Pascal, Joseph Quinn, Fred Hechinger, Lior Raz, Derek Jacobi, Connie Nielsen, and Denzel Washington. Directed by Ridley Scott.
REVIEW: Come to see a man bite a monkey, stay for Denzel Washington’s deliciously devious villain.
The follow-up to Best Picture Oscar winner “Gladiator” is long on spectacle—Lucius not only battles giant monkeys, but also sharks and a huge, bloodthirsty rhino—but short on soul. It is loud and proud but the emotional connectivity offered by the original film, and specifically Russell Crowe’s performance, gets lost in this new translation.
The story of corruption, loyalty, birthright, vengeance and angry fighting animals is lavish and epic, but it isn’t much fun.
The set pieces in the Colosseum deliver big CGI action, there’s a fake severed head (a practical effect that makes the infamous rubber baby in Clint Eastwood’s “American Sniper” look photorealistic) and throngs of soldiers for as far as the eye can see. It is epic filmmaking on a grand scale, but it’s missing adrenaline, that hit of dopamine that gives you a rush.
The opening battle scene and the abovementioned monkey bite are rousing, but after that the movie gets bogged down, not with plot—that’s relatively simple—but with heroic banter and political intrigue.
Paul Mescal, as Lucius, son of Russell Crowe’s character Maximus Decimus Meridius from the first film, takes pains to differentiate himself from Crowe’s Oscar winning performance. His gladiator is pensive, weighed down by the death of his warrior wife at the end of an arrow fired by Marcus Acacius (Pedro Pascal). Mescal is charismatic but in his quest for vengeance, he’s tasked with delivering a series of heroic speeches, none of which are as memorable as Crowe’s “Are you not entertained?” declaration.
Pascal’s gets the job done as the conflicted Roman general Marcus Acacius. He’s a warrior, but fears Rome is headed in the wrong direction under the sadistic twin emperors, Caracalla (Fred Hechinger) and Geta (Joseph Quinn).
Both hand in fine performances, but then, into the mix, comes Denzel Washington. It’s a supporting role, but he’s here for a good time, not a long time. As Macrinus, a wealthy former slave with a plan to control Rome, he gives the film some bounce, some real personality.
As the villain of the piece, his cunning would put Machiavelli to shame. He’s a master chess player, moving everyone around as though they are pawns in his devilish game. His scenes are the film’s most memorable, and remember, this is in a movie where the lead character bites a monkey!
Ridley Scott’s “Gladiator II” has sword and sandal sequelitis. It’s bigger, louder and longer than the original film, but more, in this case, doesn’t mean better.
For an avenging angel, a righter-of-wrongs, it seems the work is never done. Take the world-weary Robert McCall, (Denzel Washington) former government assassin turned protector of the exploited and oppressed in “Equalizer 3,” for instance. After taking a bullet on the job, he takes time out to recuperate in a Southern Italian village. As he ponders his own salvation over a cup of tea in a local cafe, he tells people he’s retired from “government work,” and settles in to enjoy a quiet life in his new home.
Trouble is, violence seems to follow this guy around like a trained puppy.
The trouble comes in the form of Vincent (Andrea Scarduzio), a mafia kingpin looking to take over the town and establish a base for his operations.
“What happens here,” says McCall’s new friend Enzo (Remo Girone), “happens in many towns. The mafia. They’re a cancer. No cure.”
Not one to accept threats and extortion as a way of life, McCall sends a warning.
“Whatever it is you and your friends do,” he says, “do it somewhere else.”
“You warning me?” says Vincent’s brother, mafia tough guy Marco Quaranta (Andrea Dodero).
“I’m preparing you.”
Meanwhile CIA agent Emma Collins (Dakota Fanning) is hot on McCall’s trail, trying to figure out the question at the heart of the movie: Is Robert McCall a good guy or a bad guy?
“The Equalizer 3” is a revenge story, plain and simple, tarted up with some talk of salvation, but let’s face it, this is “Death Wish” with nicer scenery. McCall slices and dices his way through the mafia crime family, a vigilante on a mission.
When director Antoine Fuqua, working with a script by Richard Wenk, isn’t staging homages to “Spartacus” and “Godfather 3,” he’s setting the stage with stock characters. The Italian villagers are good, honest salt-of-the-earth types. The baddies aren’t memorable, just extra evil, with no redeeming features. You don’t need white hats and black hats to tell who is who in this movie.
Into this mix comes McCall, an unwieldy mix of ruthlessness and benevolence. He’s there to give the bad guys what they’ve got coming, and it is the promise of his handiwork—decapitations, impalement, broken bones etc—that gives the movie its forward momentum.
But it’s Washington who delivers the satisfaction in the film’s scenes of gory revenge. There’s lots of revenge movies out there, but they usually don’t have the special set of skills that Washington brings to the brutal character. From his soft-spoken threats and wisecracks to his carefully timed fights and search for solace, Washington and his trademarked movie star magnetism make the character far more complex than he actually is. McCall is essentially a serial killer, a violent fantasy of justice at any cost, but Washington’s charisma makes it feel cathartic rather than exploitive.
At a sleek 1 hour and 43 minutes, “The Equalizer 3” is an entertainingly efficient finale to the franchise that goes out with a bang. Literally.
Sidney Poitier, who passed away in January 2022, led a remarkable life, one vividly portrayed in the Oprah Winfrey-produced documentary “Sidney,” now steaming on Apple TV+. “He doesn’t make movies, he makes milestones,” says U.S. President Barack Obama in the film, “milestones of America’s progress.”
In an interview shot with Winfrey in 2012, the “To Sir with Love” actor, staring directly into the camera, tells of his childhood in Nassau. A master storyteller, he recalls how he almost died as a baby, shares wonderful stories about his loving parents, recalls seeing a car for the first time, and marvels at his first glance into a mirror.
His move to the United States from a predominantly Black community in the Bahamas, is fraught with racism and threats of violence from the Ku Klux Klan, but tempered by kindness from a waiter who helps him learn to read, using the newspaper as a textbook.
Landing in Harlem, he is introduced to the world of acting, and has the good fortune to go on as an understudy in a New York City stage production on the same night a big-time Broadway producer is in the house. That leg up set on a path that would see him become the first Black man to win the Academy Award for Best Actor (for 1963’s Lilies of the Field), a civil right activist and diplomat.
It is a comprehensive, linear look at Poitier’s life, one that brings Winfrey to tears, and in the retelling of a pivotal scene in “In the Heat of the Night,” where Poitier, as detective Virgil Tibbs responds to being slapped by a white redneck, by slapping him back, brings a delightful response from Morgan Freeman.
Director Reginald Hudlin assembles a mix of archival footage, new interviews with Halle Berry, Denzel Washington, Spike Lee, Winfrey and others, and plenty of film clips, to present a well told story of a well lived and influential life. The result is an entertaining and informative doc about an extraordinary life. “When I die,” Poitier said, “I will not be afraid of having lived.”
Austere and theatrical, “The Tragedy of Macbeth,” in theatres on December 25, streaming on Apple TV+ on January 14, feels like an up-scale horror film in its examination of ambition and violence.
The plot is familiar from high school English class. Three witches (all played by Kathryn Hunter) prophesize that Macbeth (Denzel Washington), a heroic general in King Duncan’s (Brendan Gleeson) army, is bound for glory. He will be named Thane of Cawdor, they say, and one day, if he has the backbone, King. It’s welcome news for the ambitious warrior and his ruthlessly Machiavellian wife, Lady Macbeth (Frances McDormand), who helps kickstart her husband’s rise to power by devising a plot to kill the King.
Their bloody coup sees the well-liked Duncan murdered, triggering Macbeth’s ascent to the throne. The couple’s lust for power leads to a reign of terror, which includes the wholesale slaughter of King Duncan loyalist Macduff’s (Corey Hawkins) family and a civil war.
The crown sits heavily on their collective heads. The new power couple are soon overwhelmed by insomnia, festering paranoia and guilt. “By the pricking of my thumbs,” says one of the witches, “something wicked this way comes.”
Adapted for the screen by director Joel Coen, working for the first time without his brother Ethan, “The Tragedy of Macbeth” blends theatre and cinema in a seamless and powerful way. The expressionistic sets and minimalist soundtrack feel transported in from the theatre, while the beautiful stark black-and-white photography and charismatic performances are pure cinema.
Washington is quietly powerful as his immorality grows. His entrance, a bold walk straight up to the camera out of the fog, establishes his movie star cred. His letter-perfect line readings, imbuing meaning and emotion into even the most intimidating of Shakespeare’s passages proves he was born to say these words.
McDormand plays Lady Macbeth as her husband’s equal. She captures her ambition, but tempers the performance with notes of desperation.
Also striking is legendary stage actress Kathryn Hunter. She plays all three of the prophetic weird sisters in a physically transformative way that sees her bend into shapes that look almost supernatural.
All are ably supported by an exemplary cast, including Gleeson, Corey Hawkins as Macduff, the Thane of Fife, Bertie Carvel as Macbeth ally Banquo and Harry Melling as Malcolm, the King Duncan’s eldest.
“The Tragedy of Macbeth” is accessible without ever playing down to the audience. Masterful filmmaking mixes and matches the text with compelling images and wonderful performances to create a new take on the Scottish Play that is both respectful and fearlessly fresh.
Go see it, “Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow…”
“The Little Things,” a Los Angeles-set crime drama now available in select theatres and on PVOD, features a trio of Oscar winners in a dark story that shows the soft underbelly of the glamour capitol.
Set in 1990, pre-DNA testing, this is a story of old-fashioned police work. Wits, stakeouts, payphones and bleary eyes are their tools. Obsession and black coffee fuel them.
Oscar winner number one Denzel Washington is Joe Deacon, a deputy sheriff in small town California, whose job as a big city detective is long in the rearview mirror. When he joins strait-laced LAPD detective Sgt. Jim Baxter (Oscar winner number two, Rami Malek) on the hunt for a serial murderer, they focus on Albert Sparma (Oscar winner number three, Jared Leto) an off-kilter character they suspect is the killer. Turns out, their case reverberates with echoes from Deacon’s troubled past.
“The Little Things” sets up an interesting mystery. The SoCal setting resonates with an eerie Golden State Killer sun-dappled vibe and there are enough cryptic clues to keep you—and Deacon and Baxter—guessing. Washington and Malek play an odd couple, brought together by their shared obsessions, and Leto is suitably sideways to lend an aura of menace to his character. But, taken as a whole, the elements feel let down by the climax of the story. No spoilers here, but Baxter’s behavior in the minutes leading up to the film’s resolution don’t feel authentic, as though they are not driven by the character and what he would do in the situation. Instead, the ending feels informed simply by the need to wrap up the story in a dramatic way.
It’s too bad because most of what comes before is quite good. Deep characterizations, worthy of the trio’s Oscar wins, help set the scene. Writer and director John Lee Hancock avoids the visual clichés of most Los Angeles sets dramas; there’s palm trees, but no Hollywood highlights, just rundown motel rooms and skid row streets. It all adds up, until Baxter’s inexplicable decisions (AGAIN, NO SPOILERS HERE) take the viewer out of the story.
As Deacon says several times in “The Little Things,” life and, in this case, storytelling are all about the little things, the details that come together to tell the tale. Hancock gets most of the little things right, but not all.
It’s hard not to watch “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom,” the vibrant adaptation of August Wilson’s play of the same name, now streaming on Netflix, without feeling a sense of loss. It’s Chadwick Boseman’s last performance and the life he brings to the role of ambitious trumpet player Levee acts as a poignant reminder of a career cut tragically short.
Set in the roaring 1920’s Chicago, Viola Davis plays the titular character, a real-life musical trailblazer known as “Mother of the Blues.” On a sweltering day in a dank basement recording studio, the band, pianist Toledo (Glynn Turman), trombonist Cutler (Colman Domingo), and string bassist Slow Drag (Michael Potts) and Levee, rehearse as they wait for the fashionably late Ma to arrive.
The heat, claustrophobia, frayed egos and twitchy Levee’s insistence on changing tried-and-true musical arrangements, fuel a war of words and wills as they attempt to put Ma’s signature “Black Bottom” song to disc.
“Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom” theatrical roots are very much on display in director George C. Wolfe (a five-time Tony winner) and screenwriter Ruben Santiago-Hudson’s adaptation. The presentation is energetic but simple; a showcase for the performances. Like bandleader Cutler says, “a-one, a-two, a-you know what to do.”
And they sure do. The core cast is uniformly excellent.
Domingo is understated but powerful as the bandleader, heading off interpersonal crisis with a few well-chosen words. Turman, recently seen as the stately Doctor Senator, consigliere to Chris Rock’s crime boss, on “Fargo,” is the sage of the group, gives Toledo’s monologues gravitas as he speaks of racial pride and personal sovereignty.
Davis is flamboyant, a diva who uses her demands to maintain control over her band and respect from her white producers (Jeremy Shamos and Jonny Coyne). “They don’t care nothin’ about me,” she says. “All they want is my voice. I learned that and they are going to treat me the way I want to be treated no matter how much it hurts them.” It’s a bravura performance that’s almost as loud and proud as the garish make Ma has slathered on her face.
Ma Rainey’s name may be on the marquee but the most memorable character is Boseman’s Levee. Ambitious, he wants to leave behind the sideman gigs and form his own band, Levee Green and His Foot Stompers, but his bluster hides a deep well of pain that overflows during the steamy afternoon recording session. Levee is a tragic character, a classically flawed man straining against the weight of personal trauma, hoping that his talent will bring him the respect he needs to survive. The distressing effects of racial discrimination are written large on Boseman’s expressive face, informing every twist and turn in his character’s journey. It’s a skillful and heartbreaking performance that doesn’t just hint at his great talent, but lays it bare. It’s the kind of performance, filled with fury and frustration, that makes you hungry for more. Sadly, it’s his swan song.
Although set in the 1920s and written in the 1980s, the ideas and the anger in “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom” feels of the moment and indispensable. The dialogue crackles and the context resonates because Wilson’s source material has not only stood the test of time, but transcends it.
Like a perfectly cooked egg, or popping the individual pockets of air on bubble wrap or the “pawooof” sound a properly opened bottle of champagne makes, watching Denzel Washington open up a can of whoop ass on bad people is extraordinarily satisfying. His latest film, “The Equalizer 2,” the first sequel in his long and stories career, offers up a cornucopia of fisticuffian delights that should keeps fans of tough guy Denzel happy.
Denzel returns as former secret agent and righter-of-wrongs Robert McCall. Although he’s looking to scale back his ongoing quest to protect and serve the exploited and oppressed, when his former boss and close friend Susan Plummer (Melissa Leo) is murdered, he goes looking for revenge. “You killed my friend,” he says to the baddies, “so I’m going to kill each and every one of you. My only disappointment is that I only get to do it once.” Cue the carnage, Denzel-style.
There’s more, like a subplot with a young artist McCall tries to steer away from gang life and some double crosses, but you don’t go to an “Equalizer” movie for the social messaging or the plot. You go to see Denzel reign holy hell down on people that deserve a punch or two. That’s why the first, largely plot free, half of the movie is more satisfying than the second. We see McCall in random situations doing what he does best, not getting bogged down by the vagaries of narrative style or thematic statements. The fight scenes are don’t vary much, he scopes out the room, mutters a killer one-liner and devastates those who get in his way. It’s in the second half, after Susan’s murder that it sags as the movie strays into procedural territory. McCall’s investigative work leads to another improbable “Equalizer” style climax, although this one, set in a beach town during a hurricane, isn’t quite as ridiculous as the Home Hardware shootout—who knew those places were so dangerous?—in the first film, but it still requires some suspension of disbelief. (Start by asking yourself, when did he have time to hang up all those pictures of Susan in a wild windstorm?)
Director Antoine Fuqua has snapped up the pace from the first film, showcased the action, and added in two great motivators, betrayal and grief. Washington brings gravitas and ferocity to a character stuck somewhere between atoning for his violent life by helping those around him and knocking the snot out of people who get on his bad side. This sequel muddies the character by presenting him as a one-man posse, meting out his own brand of over-the-top justice. You can root for him, just don’t get on his bad side.
Not as trashy as “Death Wish” or as action-packed as “John Wick,” two other exemplars of the man on a crusade genre, “The Equalizer 2” is a solidly entertaining popcorn flick with pretensions of bringing Shakespearean level of pathos to the tale of vengeance. Instead, it’s “Taken” with the special set of skills and without the annoying daughter character.
Denzel Washington has been nominated for seven acting Oscars, taking home two for “Glory” and “Training Day.” He’ll likely be nominated again this year for his turn as an idealistic defence attorney in “Roman J. Israel, Esq.” but don’t expect a nod for the film overall.
Washington is the title character, a brilliant behind-the-scenes legal eagle who, for thirty-six years, allowed his business partner to to be the public face of their firm. He’s a throwback to another time with an iPod with 8000 carefully selected deep jazz cuts and suits with lapels wide enough to take flight should the right wind conditions arise. He’s a stickler for the rules, a savant with a photographic memory for details, a sharp tongue and a higher purpose. “Not speaking out is ordinary,” he says. “We are agents of change.”
When his long time partner suddenly dies Roman is forced to work with hotshot lawyer George Pierce (Colin Farrell). Pierce is a shark, a corporate player with four upscale Los Angeles law offices that are essentially plea factories. However, he recognizes Roman’s genius. Roman wants to do the work of the angels, but his unconventional demeanour makes it difficult to find work in his chosen field, civil rights. Short of cash, he takes Pierce up on his offer. A square peg in a round hole, his ideas about reforming the legal system and social revolution don’t endear him to his co-workers.
Soon though Roman has a change of heart. “I’m tired of doing the impossible for the ungrateful,” he says of his impoverished clients. “I have more practical concerns. My lack of success is self-inflicted.” When he uses privileged information for personal gain he sets in motion a series of events he can’t control.
“Roman J. Israel, Esq.” is a character study of a man who betrays himself as well as others. He’s a man whose lifelong beliefs are pushed to the wayside when he butts up against a desperate situation. For a time his life gets better but, because this is a Dan Gilroy movie, you know it won’t last for long. It works for dramatic effect but Roman’s change of attitude rings hollow, as if simply having a few extra bucks in your back pocket—or, in this case, in a duffle bag in the stove—can smooth over all of Roman’s rough edges. The death of idealism is nothing new but the change in Roman never rings completely true.
Perhaps its because this is a legal drama with no courtroom showdown. It’s the anti “Law & Order,” a story that hinges on legal values but is more interested on how Roman believes in them, not why.
Still, while the movie may not satisfy as a frame for this interesting character, Washington impresses. He does edgy, complex work in a movie that is less interesting than its title character.
