I join CTV Atlantic’s Todd Battis to talk about the monstrous and messy “The Bride!,” PIxar’s “Hoppers,” the hockey drama “Youngblood” and the teen drama “Sweetness.”
Watch the whole thing HERE!
Fast reviews for busy people! Watch as I review three movies in less time than it takes to reanimate the dead. Have a look as I race against the clock to tell you about the monstrous and messy “The Bride!,” PIxar’s “Hoppers” and the hockey drama “Youngblood.”
Watch the whole thing HERE!
SYNOPSIS: In “The Bride!,” a new gothic story of love and crime loosely inspired by “The Bride of Frankenstein,” and now playing in theatres, a lonely Frankenstein’s monster finds companionship with the recently murdered, reanimated Bride. “What do you want with a dead girl?” she asks. “I’m the same. Born from the dead,” he says. “I am… a monster.”
CAST: Jessie Buckley, Christian Bale, Peter Sarsgaard, Annette Bening, Jake Gyllenhaal, Penélope Cruz. Written and directed by Maggie Gyllenhaal.
REVIEWS: A mix of classic horror and “Bonnie and Clyde,” with a side of “Wild at Heart,” “The Bride!” is a modern and monstrous, but messy, take on what it means to challenge expectations just by being alive.
Set in the 1930s Chicago, “The Bride!” begins with a lovelorn monster (Christian Bale) asking scientist Dr. Euphronius (Annette Bening) for a cure for his loneliness. He wants a companion; someone to love.
The pair dig up the dearly departed Ida and jolt her back to life as the fragmented Bride (Jessie Buckley), a woman possessed by the spirit of her former persona, a take-no-prisoners flapper (“I would prefer not to,” is her catchphrase.), and the ghost of nineteenth century English novelist Mary Shelley, author of the Gothic novel “Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus.”
“The bride… of Frankenstein,” “Frankie” calls her. “No,” she replies, “just The Bride.”
Rebellious and powerful, she’s far from a demure monster’s mate. As romance blossoms, they connect during a chaotic crime wave that turns The Bride into an accidental folk hero. Their monstrous crime spree inspires women nationwide to break the law, coming together as a community of vigilantes marked with The Bride’s distinctively stained lips and cheek trademark.
On the run from detectives Det. Jake Wiles (Peter Sarsgaard) and Myrna Mallow (Penélope Cruz) “Frankie” says, “There is nothing left to do now, except live.”
There is no shortage of ideas in “The Bride!” Director Maggie Gyllenhaal, who also wrote the script, packs the movie with thoughts on bodily autonomy, identity, feminist reclamation, loneliness and what it means to be truly alive.
Unfortunately, these notions feel stitched together as randomly as the roughhewn sutures and staples that bind Frankenstein’s creature together. A more-is-more take on the story of a woman living a second life, an existence forced upon her by Dr. Euphronius and the creature, the film becomes muddled in a sea of ideas that ultimately feel unsupported by the nuts-and-bolts of the story.
At the film’s heart is Jessie Buckley’s uninhibited performance. As a vessel for Ida, Mary Shelley and The Bride, she flip-flops between the characters randomly, spitting out rapid fire lines in various accents, often nonsensically, depending on which of her personas is in the forefront.
Buckley’s commitment to it will be seen as brave, or annoying, depending on your tolerance for over-the-top theatrics. Either way, channeling the three characters doesn’t really work, even in Buckley’s skilled hands.
Gyllenhaal and Bale lend a more restrained hand to the creature. The lovesick “Frankie” is both tender and volatile, and Bale, under an inch of make-up, brings real humanity to the character.
“The Bride!” is an audacious movie. The title’s exclamation mark suggests a movie made with urgency, and Gyllenhaal embraces that sense of excitement in her reimagination of The Bride character, but her enthusiasm for the topic overwhelms the film’s storytelling.
SYNOPSIS: “Hamnet,” is a fictionalized look how the the lives of William Shakespeare and his wife Agnes Hathaway are left in tatters following their son Hamnet’s death from the plague.
CAST: Jessie Buckley, Paul Mescal, Emily Watson, Joe Alwyn. Directed by Chloé Zhao.
REVIEW: Based on Maggie O’Farrell’s 2020 novel of the same name, “Hamnet” is an unflinching portrait of love and loss.
Set in Warwickshire, England in the late 16th century, “Hamnet” begins with love at first sight between the free-spirited Agnes Hathaway (Jessie Buckley) and Latin tutor and poet William Shakespeare (Paul Mescal). Defying their families, they marry and soon have twins, Judith (Olivia Lynes) and Hamnet (Jacobi Jupe).
When Hamnet is stricken with the bubonic plague, Agnes cares for him as Will, unaware of his son’s illness, works in London and returns after the boy’s death. Consumed by grief, they live separate lives of anguish, until that pain transforms into a work of art that provides an opportunity to heal.
Intimate and as raw, “Hamnet” is an open wound; a profound portrait of heartache that is as uncompromising as it is emotionally involving in its depiction of a mother’s loss of a child. Buckley, one of the finest actors of her generation, taps into the harrowing stages of grief with an unforgettable ferocity. Her despair is palatable, which makes the extended “healing power of art” climax, the climb out of the abyss of woe, even more powerful.
It’s not a spoiler to note that the work of art in question is Shakespeare’s tragedy “Hamlet.” (BUT TREAD CAREFULLY, DETAILS TO FOLLOW) A title card at the film’s beginning reads, “Hamnet and Hamlet are in fact the same name, entirely interchangeable in Stratford records in the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries.”
As an examination of death from all angles—philosophical, emotional, spiritual and physical—the writing and preforming of “Hamlet” is an epiphany for both William and Agnes, in that it meets mortality head-on, from the mourning of a loved one, to the effects of loss on those left behind and the fear of, “what dreams may come” in “that undiscovered country, from whose bourn / No traveller returns.” Their healing may never be complete, but the play’s examination of art as a source of solace is uplifting.
The play, which makes up much of the film’s final moments, may be the thing, but it’s director Chloé Zhao’s intimate exploration of child loss, as expressed by Buckley’s riveting performance, that sticks. It’s so overwhelming I may never submit to the raw intensity of it again—it’s not a movie you could rightly say you “enjoyed”—but it stands as a powerful study of loss.
“Women Talking,” directed by Sarah Polley and now playing in theatres, is a very specific portrayal of the aftermath of sexual abuse, with a universal message of standing up for one’s self, family and community.
Based on a 2018 Miriam Toews novel of the same name, in the film, the women of a tightly knit religious colony gather in the wake of terrible, on-going sexual abuse by the men. For years the commune’s husbands and sons have tranquilized the women with cow medication, raped them regardless of age, and then convinced the victims the abuse was the work of Satan or their “wild imaginations.”
“We know that we’ve not imagined these attacks,” says Salome (Claire Foy), the mother of an abused child. “We know that we are bruised, and infected, and pregnant, and terrified.”
In the wake of the allegations, the men, sequestered in the city for their safe keeping, have given the women two days to forgive them. If they don’t, they threaten to expel from the community women which means they will be denied entry into the Kingdom of Heaven.
“Surely,” says mother-to-be Ona (Rooney Mara), “there must be something worth living for in this life. Not only the next.”
Now, gathered in the hayloft of one of their barns, the women, including the rancorous Mariche (Jessie Buckley) and community matriarch Agata (Judith Ivey), debate their three options: do nothing in retaliation, stay and fight, or leave.
The spirited deliberations give way to a variety of points of view. “Is forgiveness that’s forced upon us true forgiveness?” wonders Mariche. “We have been preyed upon like animals,” says Greta (Sheila McCarthy). “Maybe we should respond like animals.” Others wonder what life would have been like if none of this ever happened.
Set in 2010, timely social issues of justice, autonomy and unanimity among victims collide in a movie that captures the extended conversations, highlighting their harrowing nature, while slyly mixing in some unexpected humour.
Polley, who wrote as well as directed, ensures that each of the characters bring dynamic notions to their performances, and aren’t just placeholders representing opposing ideas for the sake of drama. The set-up, based on true events in a religious community in Boliva, offers a fascinating window into a fight for survival and the opportunity to examine the situation from a variety of thoughtful viewpoints.
A film, largely set in one room, whose action is verbal, not physical, could have been dry or, at the least, feel stage bound but Polley’s deep dive into the human condition crackles with life. She has carefully calibrated every line, every pause, to create forward momentum as the life-changing deliberations move toward their conclusion.
“Women Talking” is elegant filmmaking buoyed by emotional intelligence and powerhouse performances and is sure to be Oscar bound.
You can’t spell “menacing” without the word “men.”
The new Jessie Buckley psychological thriller, now playing in theatres, takes a look at toxic relationships and gender politics through the lens of British folk horror and surreal body terror.
Buckley is Harper, a young widow smarting from the death of her husband James (Pappa Essiedu) by suicide. To heal her soul, she rents a 500-year-old house in the English countryside. Miles from anywhere—“The pub is ten minutes down the road,” says her socially awkward landlord Geoffrey (Rory Kinnear), “thirty minutes on the way back.”—the tranquil surroundings should be a balm, but she is haunted by visions of the last moments she spent with her controlling, abusive husband.
On the verge of a divorce he didn’t want, they argued. “I’ll kill myself,” he says, “and you’ll have to live with my death. That’s not a threat, it’s a warning.”
Minutes later, he plunges to his death, changing Harper’s life forever.
At the rental house Harper has a close call with a scarred, bloodied and naked man she thinks is stalking her. The local police assure her she is not in danger, and yet unsettling things continue to happen, including a run in with a rude boy in a Marilyn Monroe mask, microaggressions, stand-offish men in town and the world’s most unhelpful vicar, whose advice is not exactly welcome.
The trip to the country culminates in a hallucinogenic sequence that combines body horror (the kind that might make David Cronenberg envious), British folk horror, pagan imagery and even some stunt driving.
“Men” feels like two movies. The first half is a domestic drama, a divorce turned ugly, played out in flashbacks. The idyll of the country retreat, featuring long dialogue-free sequences, is briefly interrupted by memories and some rather creepy men. It is uncomfortable but earthbound.
The second part, which makes up the film’s last third, is a grotesque, surreal psychological thriller with images best seen after you’ve finished your popcorn and Twizzlers. Director and writer Alex Garland gruesomely and memorably (perhaps a little too memorably) illustrates a never-ending cycle of male rebirth into crisis and toxicity. It’s never clear where the metaphor starts or ends and the head trip begins, but the message of menacing toxic masculinity is made bloody clear (literally).
Both sides of the story have interesting moments, most courtesy of Buckley, the rare effortless performer whose face contains multitudes, but despite some memorable flourishes, they don’t feel like a whole. It’s like there is a puzzle piece missing in the storytelling. As a result, “Men” is interesting, but isn’t exactly an effective genre film or study of trauma.
“The Courier,” a new Benedict Cumberbatch Cold War drama now on PVOD, is the mostly true tale of how an unassuming British businessman helped prevent World War III. “You must convince them you are an ordinary businessman,” he is told, “and nothing more than an ordinary businessman.”
Set in 1962, Cumberbatch is Greville Wynne, a buttoned-down Brit chosen by a joint task force, CIA agent Emily Donovan (Rachel Brosnahan) and MI6’s Bertrand (Anton Lesser), to go undercover and act as a courier between them and Soviet officer Oleg Penkovsky (Merab Ninidze). Wynne’s down-to-earth manner and the fact that he already was doing business in Eastern Europe made him a perfect undercover agent.
As presented, the job was simple. Travel to Moscow under the pretense of work, up a package from Penkovsky and return home. Of course, international intrigue is never that easy, particularly when the information they are passing back and forth is related to preventing a nuclear confrontation.
When the Americans learn that Russia has positioned nuclear warheads on Cuba it becomes a race to get Penkovsky to safety. Out of a sense of loyalty to his business partner-turned-friend, Wynne volunteers to make one more trip to Russia.
“The Courier” is an old-fashioned espionage drama that is more about relationships than it is about James Bond style antics. Loyalty, betrayal and forgiveness go hand-in-hand in the complicated game of making the world a safer place and it is in its portrayal of those qualities that “The Courier” shines.
Wynne has several important relationships in the film. There is his wife, Jessie Buckley bringing much to an underwritten role, and his handler Emily, but it is with Penkovsky that he truly bonds. Trust forms over dinners and even at the ballet, but it is their shared desire to prevent a war that binds them.
Cumberbatch brings much to the role, allowing true feelings to slip past Wynne’s stiff-upper-lip. It’s subtle yet commanding work that steers the film past its grey-ish, icy façade to a place where the cloak-and-dagger story becomes driven by feelings and not intrigue.
Cumberbatch‘s wouldn’t be nearly as effective if he didn’t have such a strong actor playing Penkovsky. Ninidze plays the Russian as an idealogue, a man convinced his country is playing a very dangerous game with the world, It’s a quietly powerful performance, one where what he doesn’t say is as important as what he does say. Ninidze nails it, playing a man whose every move could have massive consequences for him and his family.
“The Courier” is a welcome addition to the Cold War genre.
Fifty years after the 1970 Miss World pageant erupted into chaos a new film documents the events that sent host Bob Hope scurrying from the stage, bombarded by flour bombs and heckles. “Misbehaviour,” a new British film starring Keira Knightley and Gugu Mbatha-Raw, and now on VOD, sees members of the nascent British women’s liberation movement rebel against the show’s objectification of its contestants and Hope’s terrible jokes. “I consider the feelings of women,” he says, “I consider feeling women all the time.”
Knightley is Sally Alexander, a single mother and academic who believes the women’s liberation movement must address systemic sexism if there is to be meaningful change. Jo Robinson (Jessie Buckley) takes a more hands-on approach, defacing statues and sexist billboards. Despite differing approaches, they focus their efforts on the Miss World pageant, an annual event with a world-wide television audience of over 100 million people.
In a parallel story Gugu Mbatha-Raw is Jennifer Hosten, Grenada’s first competitor in Miss World. Intelligent, elegant and composed, she’s willing to endure the contest’s objectification for the chance to make history as the first woman of colour to win the pageant crown. “You are a very lucky person if you think this is being treated badly,” she tells Miss Sweden, Maj Johansson (Clara Rosager).
“Misbehaviour” is an ambitious movie disguised as a feel good Britcom. Issues are raised and the era is vividly portrayed trough fashion and the attitude of the pageant’s organizers, but the story’s main point, that feminism comes in many styles and can mean different things to different people, is broached in a superficially earnest way, but never explored. Alexander and Robinson see the absurdity of the beauty contest is liken to a “cattle market.” The farcicality of it all, the bathing suit competition, the numbers on the wrists, is not lost on Hosten but for her it is an opportunity to make a statement to other woman and girls who look like her that this, and anything else in life, is possible. That doors can be opened.
Knightley and Buckley are reliably good but it is Mbatha-Raw who brings the heart and soul to “Misbehaviour.” More than just a retelling of the flour-bombing of Bob Hope or a history lesson on the roots of the women’s liberation movement (at the end we actually meet the real-life counterparts of the film’s characters), it’s character study of Hosten. She may not be the focus of the story, that’s Alexander and Robinson, but Mbatha-Raw’s warmth tempered by inner unease makes her the movie’s most layered and interesting character.
Check out episode thirty-three of Richard’s web series, “In Isolation With…” It’s the talk show where we make a connection without actually making contact! Today, broadcasting directly from Isolation Studios (a.k.a. my home office) we meet Iain Reid the Canadian author of the bestselling novel “I’m Thinking of Ending Things.”
“I’m Thinking of Ending Things” has been described as a psychological thriller and horror fiction, and is about a young man who takes his girlfriend to see his parents on a remote farm and the disturbing aftermath that follows. It sounds simple, but this is anything but. It’s a story of predetermination and free will that bears up to reading and rereading.
It’s now also a Netflix film, directed by Charlie Kaufman, starring stars Jessie Buckley, Jesse Plemons and Toni Collette.
I started the interview by congratulating him on his recent success…
