SYNOPSIS: “The Critic,” a new, melodramatic thriller starring Sir Ian McKellen, Gemma Arterton and Mark Strong, and now playing in theatres, sees a powerful London theater critic lure a struggling actress into a blackmail scheme.
CAST: Ian McKellen, Gemma Arterton, Mark Strong, Lesley Manville, Romola Garai, Ben Barnes, Alfred Enoch. Directed by Anand Tucker.
REVIEW: A tale of blackmail and revenge, set against the (somewhat) polite society of England, circa 1934, “The Critic” is a deceptively dark and grimy drama.
Handsomely mounted, with sumptuous period details, “The Critic” details mostly despicable people who hide their nefarious motivations behind an upper-class veneer.
Topflight performances from McKellen as a powerful theatre critic who’ll do anything to maintain his status, Arterton as a morally compromised actress and Stone as the nepobaby owner of a large newspaper, smooth over some of the rough patches in the movie’s storytelling.
Early on, actress Nina Land (Arterton) confronts the critic, Jimmy Erskine (McKellen), only to have her worst fears about her talent—or lack thereof—confirmed by the sharp-tongued writer. It’s a masterclass from McKellen in controlled cruelty and tells us most everything that we need to know about the unapologetic character. He’s an extravagant wordsmith, one who uses his words not only to entertain his readers, but to also eviscerate his enemies.
It’s a marvelous scene, sleek and caustic, that sets a tone that is, unfortunately, not continued throughout, despite the good performances. McKellen and Company are let down by a script that, time after time, falls for its basest impulses. Every dark turn, and there are many of them, pushes the story deeper into melodrama at the expense of interesting exchanges like the one detailed above.
“The Critic” slides by on the work of McKellen, Arterton, Strong and Lesley Manville, but doesn’t know how to use their performances to the story’s best advantage.
In the movies The Kingsmen are a secret spy organization whose members have manners that would make Henry Higgins proud and gadgets that James Bond would envy. They’ve been the subject of two movies, “Kingsman: The Secret Service” and “Kingsman: The Golden Circle,” and now, three movies into director Matthew Vaughn’s spy franchise comes an origin story that takes us back to the early part of the 20th century and the confusing beginnings of these modern-day knights.
“The King’s Man,” now playing in theatres, begins with a tragedy that makes the wealthy and powerful Duke of Oxford (Ralph Fiennes) reject the Colonialism and violence that is the bedrock of his family’s fortune. He questions why he was killing people who were trying to protect their own land. “With every man I killed,” he said, “I killed a piece of myself.”
Meanwhile, as World War I approaches, an assembly of the world’s most despicable tyrants and villains, working for an evil mastermind with plans for world domination, are hatching a plan that could lead to genocide.
With the lives of millions at stake, and his son Conrad (Harris Dickinson) off to war, the Duke realizes he can’t rely on politicians to do the right thing. In an effort to save the world, he abandons his pacifist ways. With the help of his most trusted colleagues, swordsman Shola (Djimon Hounsou) and sharp shooter Polly (Gemma Arterton), he goes into the fray and sews the seeds for the formation of The Kingsmen, an organization that uses violence to attain peace.
The first two Kingsmen movies were overstuffed, but had a certain lightness of touch. Unfortunately, “The King’s Man” lands with a thud. A mix of fact (well, almost true stuff) and fiction—real life characters like Rasputin, the mad Russian monk (Rhys Ifans) are woven into the fanciful story—the movie is all over the place. It’s a spy story, a tale of duty, a slapstick comedy, an action film, a fractured fairy tale of world events.
Some of the action scenes are quite fun and Ifans eats so much scenery it feels like he’ll never go hungry again, but the story takes far too long to get going.
“The King’s Man” feels as though it is splintering off in all directions, like it’s three movies spliced-and-diced into one, bloated, messy sequel-ready story.
A wartime British story driven by character and emotion rather than action, “Summerland,” now on VOD, is a showcase for its actors, Gemma Arterton, Gugu Mbatha-Raw and Tom Courtenay.
Arterton is Alice Bloom, a chainsmoking writer who lives alone in a quaint seaside cottage in Kent. She’s a loner, prone to castigating anyone who interrupts her work. Among her neighbors, who have frequently felt the sting of her tongue, rumors fly that she is a witch, or worse, a Nazi sympathizer.
When she’s not typing furiously her thoughts drift backwards in time to the defining moment of her life, a love affair Vera ((Gugu Mbatha-Raw). Alice was left heartbroken when Vera broke off the relationship, leaving for a man and the promise of a family. With bombs dropping on London, Alice becomes the unwelcoming host to Frank (Lucas Bond), a youngster evacuated from his city home as part of Operation Pied Piper.
She’s less than excited about having to care for the boy and Frank isn’t pleased either. Even less so when a school mate (Dixie Egerickx) warns him that Alice will “burn you and do sex things to you.” Over time and through tragedy, however, a bond unexpectedly forms between them.
“Summerland” is a feel-good movie that never digs too deep. It’s central life-is-not-fair theme is given a melodramatic treatment that leans toward the contrived but the relationships between the characters elevates the material. As Alice lets her guard down to accept and nurture Frank, and he, in turn embraces her, the story transcends the predictability of its plot to find a sweet, tender and pleasing spot. It’s aided by beautiful cinematography courtesy of Laurie Rose and lovely production design, but make no mistake, the heart of this story is the characters and the actors who bring them to vivid life.
On film war heroes are usually seen dodging bullets or rescuing wounded comrades from the field of battle. Rarer are the stories of those who stayed behind, never touched a gun or saw the front lines. “Their Finest” is one of those tales, a World War II drama about people who pitched in by raising morale.
It’s 1940, bombs are falling, decimating London and confidence is at an all time low. In an effort to boost the public’s confidence The British Ministry of Information, Film Division commissions a propaganda film that will be both “authentic and optimistic.” To this end they recruit Catrin Cole (Gemma Arterton) to provide “a woman’s touch,” or as they less politely call it, “the slop.”
Working alongside the cynical lead scriptwriter Buckley (Sam Claflin) she comes up with the mostly true story about two sisters who stole their father’s boat to help rescue soldiers from the siege at Dunkirk. Their story isn’t quite as exciting as promised but it does provide two details they can use. The sisters remember a French GI who tried to kiss them and an English soldier with a dog in a tote bag. It’s perfect they say, it has, “authenticity, optimism… and a dog.”
As they toil to craft a script that will please both the Ministry of Information and the movie’s star, aging matinee idol Ambrose Hilliard (Bill Nighy), Mrs. Cole and Buckley’s relationship turns from testy to tender.
“Their Finest” is a feel good movie almost as melodramatic as the film within the film. Luckily the melodrama—unexpected romantic twists and deaths—is wedged between Arterton’s steely-but-sweet performance, a showy turn from Nighy—“The war has slipped off the cream and we’re left with the rancid curds,” he says, complaining there are no good waiters left in Soho—and a vivid portrait of the casual condescension heaped on women, even as they took on an expanded role in the work place.
The melodrama also helps sidestep the obvious inspirational landmines this kind of story usually offers up. The rousing ”when life is precarious it’s a shame to waste it,” message is none too subtle but is gently pushed aside by Mrs. Cole’s character development as she learns to trust herself and accept that heroes aren’t always only on the battlefield.
“Their Finest” is a love letter to film—the source novel’s title was “Their Finest Hour and a Half”—with grand statements about the magic of movies. “Film,” says Buckley, “is real life with the boring bits taking out.” But more than that, it’s a tribute to the women who kept the home fires burning… and the movies playing.
There are as many kinds of cinematic zombies as there are zombie movies. From George A. Romero’s lumbering brain eaters and the fast-moving fleshbags of 28 Days Later to the undead hordes of World War Z and The Crazies’ sentient creepers, the only thing that binds them is an voracious urge to eat their living counterparts and, these days, an almost unrivalled popularity with horror fans.
It seems when the world is in turmoil people turn to zombies as an outlet for their apocalyptic anxieties. A new British film, The Girl With All the Gifts, borrows from Romero, 28 Days Later and even from The Walking Dead and yet its mix of social commentary, zippy zombies and exploding skulls doesn’t feel like a re-tread.
“The zombie metaphor is humanity eating itself,” says star Gemma Arterton. “This film extends that because it gives zombies, or hungries as we call them, intelligence, empathy, love and the ability to fend for themselves in a more developed way.
“I think we are in a period of time right now where there is major despair out there about what is happening. This film is poignant now, coming out now post Brexit. It feels quite relevant.”
Arterton plays Helen Justineau, teacher of a group of children infected by a zombifying disease but still capable of advanced thought. In the search for a cure these kids are studied at a remote English army base.
Helen has bonded with one remarkable child, Melanie (Sennia Nanua), a youngster as lethal as the others but possessed of superior intelligence and charm. When the base is overrun by “hungries” Helen, Melanie and two others escape but not before the child shows her true colours.
“I did something bad,” she says. “I ate bits of the soldiers.” With the help of the world-weary Sgt. Eddie Parks (Paddy Considine) they make their way to London.
“If you talk to Mike Carey who wrote the book and the screenplay,” says Arterton, who broke out as an MI6 field agent in 2008’s Bond hit Quantum of Solace, “you’ll find he’s not only a great raconteur but he really knows what’s going on with science and politics and he mixes the two together. It is such interesting conversation. He’s obviously a big geek but in a really factual way.”
A case in point, Arterton says, is the virus that lies at the centre of the film.
“The disease, the fungal infection is actually something that exists. There is a colony of ants in South America that have Ophiocordyceps unilateralis,” she explains, diving into the science. “It’s a fungal infection that infects them from the inside and then they sprout and turn into a different type of ant. Then those ants will eat the other ants to survive.
“These things happen in nature. Nature is such a strong force. I love that in this film you can see nature taking back the planet.
“We actually used some shots from Chornobyl as the London skyline because
Chornobyl is this abandoned city that is completely overgrown now. We might die, but nature will be fine. The world is going to keep going without us.”
Helmed by Scottish director Colm McCarthy in his first feature-length production, The Girl with All the Gifts asks difficult questions about the price of survival, capping off the story with chilling words that may — or may not — alleviate lingering zombie phobia.
“It’s not all over,” says Melanie, “it’s just not yours anymore.”
Just when you think the zombie genre has run out of ideas along comes “The Girl with All the Gifts,” a British thriller that puts a fresh spin on the putrid genre.
When the story begins all is calm. Well, as calm as the dystopian future can ever be. A fungal disease called Ophiocordyceps unilateralis has devastated the planet, leaving those affected without free will but with a taste for blood. These “hungries” are set to take over unless something can be done. Enter a group of children infected by the disease but capable of advanced thought. In the search for a cure these children are studied at a remote English army base run by Dr. Caroline Caldwell (Glenn Close). The children are shackled to chairs, forced to wear face masks and have no skin to skin contact with the doctors, teachers or soldiers who look after them. Despite their small sizes everyone regards them as dangerous, hungry creatures—after all they did eat their way out of their wombs!—except teacher Helen Justineau (Gemma Arterton). She reads them stories and has bonded with one remarkable child, Melanie (Sennia Nanua). The youngster is as lethal as the others but is possessed of superior intelligence and charm.
When the base is overrun by “hungries” Dr. Caldwell, Helen and Melanie escape but not before the child shows her true colours. “I did something bad,” she says. “I ate bits of the soldiers.” With the help of the world-weary Sgt. Eddie Parks (Paddy Considine) they make their way to London.
“Our mission statement is to gather data,” says the good doctor.
“It was until the fence went down,” grunts Eddie. “Now our mission statement is to keep ourselves off the menu.”
“The Girl With All the Gifts” borrows from George A. Romero, Danny Boyle and even from “The Walking Dead” and yet its mix of social commentary, zippy zombies and exploding skulls doesn’t feel like a re-tread.
The addition of a child, deadly though she may be, brings empathy to a world so often devoid of compassion. It also opens up some opportunities for dark humour—“Don’t play with anybody who looks dead,” Melanie is warned—that come as a welcome break from the bleakness of many dystopian zombie-fests. As Melanie, Nanua is tremendous, bringing some real humanity to a character who lives on the fringes of humanity.
“The Girl with All the Gifts” is not as outright scary as “28 Days Later” or “Night of the Living Dead,” but it is unsettling. Deliberately paced, it slowly builds to a climax that asks difficult questions about the price of survival, capping it with the chilling words, (MILD SPOILER) “It’s not all over, it’s just not yours anymore.”
Jerry Hickfang is an animal over and like many animal lovers he talks to his pets, his dog Bosco and cat, Mr. Whiskers. Trouble is, they talk back.
Ryan Reynolds is the wholesome looking Jerry, a worker at the Milton Bathtub Factory. He’s young, good-looking and eager to please at work. He also has a crush on Fiona (Gemma Arterton), the cute accountant in the office upstairs. They make a date, she stands him up and soon we learn that Jerry has some serious mental problems and an aversion to taking his meds. More likely to listen to the ramblings of Bosco and Mr. Whiskers than his therapist (Jacki Weaver), the bodies start to pile up as Jerry grapples with the voices that tell him to do terrible things.
Kitschy, strange and decidedly off kilter, “The Voices” takes a one joke premise—a guy’s pets are the angel and devil perched on his shoulder—and wrings it dry. There are some funny moments—witness Bosco and Mr. Whiskers getting turned-on while watching a National Geographic (emphasis on the “graphic”) animal special on TV—but mostly the movie revolves around Reynolds’s winning performance.
He’s a likeable actor using his likeability to emphasize the darkness that is slowly enveloping Jerry. It’s a good, brave performance that is the bridge between the horror and comedy elements of the story.
In many ways “The Voices” defines quirky indie cinema, but when the color palette changes from Day-Glo pink in the early scenes to dark colours—both physiologically and physically—in the later scenes, the movie deepens. It’s still shocking right through to the end, but the shudders are tempered with insightful comments on the human condition, and surprisingly, a dance number.
“It’s the gambling business in Costa Rica,” says internet gaming mogul Ivan Block in “Runner, Runner,” “sometimes you get punched in the face.”
And sometimes moviegoers get slapped in the face by a really bad movie.
Justin Timberlake is Richie Furst, a Princeton student who works for an on line gambling site called Midnight Black. He earns a commission every time he signs up one of his fancy-pants classmates, but when the Dean’s Office discovers what he’s up to they call his bluff: Quit Midnight Black or quit Princeton.
He opts to stop recruiting for the site, but short on tuition money, pulls an all-nighter on line, hoping to earn enough to cover his expenses. Up $50,000 it looks like his plan is working until he is cheated out of his winnings and left with nothing.
Eager to confront the site’s main man Ivan Block (Ben Affleck) he travels to Costa Rica. Block, impressed with the young man’s spirit ups the ante, offering him a job. Soon Richie is Ivan’s protégé but with the position comes some wanted attention from Block’s ex-girlfriend Rebecca (Gemma Arterton) and unwanted attention from the FBI (Anthony Mackie).
“Runner, Runner” is a thriller without any thrills, a movie about cheating at gambling that feels like a cheat. It’s the kind of film where characters say things like, “Do you know how crazy this is?” to remind the audience that what they’re watching is interesting. Or, at least, is supposed to be.
From stilted narration and dialogue—“This isn’t poker,” sez Richie, “this is my life and I have one play left. Put all the chips in!”—to characters with all the depth of a lunch tray to a by-the-numbers story, “Runner, Runner” is one of the worst movies to escape… er… get released this year.
It could have been something. Director Brad Furman’s last film, “The Lincoln Lawyer,” was an elegant thriller with interesting performances and some tension, none of which is present in his latest film.
It’s too bad, because the components are all there, they are simply let down by a derivative script by Brian Koppelman & David Levien that is unconcerned with logic, realism or creating interesting characters.
It’s too bad because the actors struggle to bring something to the table, but for someone who drips charisma onstage J.T. is bland as rice pudding here and Arterton is given little to do but bat her eyelashes.
Affleck seems to be having fun as the villain—he even has man eating reptiles!—and has the prerequisite steely-eyed glare down pat but he’s not exactly menacing. He underplays the part and yet because his dialogue is so overwritten he actually adds some unintentional humor to a movie that takes itself too seriously.
“Runner, Runner” is a slickly made but dull movie.
The legendary “Playbill” chose my review of “The Critic” among their top picks for the week.
