I join CTV Atlantic’s Bruce Frisco to talk about the playful “Toy Story 5,” the grim historical drama “The Death of Robin Hood” and the supernatural horrors of “Leviticus.”
Watch the whole thing HERE!
I join “CP24 Breakfast” hosts Nick Dixon and Jennifer Hsiung to talk about the playful “Toy Story 5” and the grim historical drama “The Death of Robin Hood.”
Watch the whole thing HERE!
Fast reviews for busy people! Watch as I review three movies in less time than it takes to brush your teeth. Have a look as I race against the clock to tell you about the playful “Toy Story 5,” the grim historical drama “The Death of Robin Hood” and the supernatural horrors of “Leviticus.”
Watch the whole thing HERE!
SYNOPSIS: In “The Death of Robin Hood,” a new historical drama now playing in theatres, Hugh Jackman stars as the legendary thief as he reckons with his past and searches for a chance at redemption. “People speak of Robin Hood,” he says. “Tell his stories. They’re all lies. He was not a hero. He were a murderous brigand.”
CAST: Hugh Jackman, Jodie Comer, Bill Skarsgård, Murray Bartlett, Noah Jupe. Written and directed by Michael Sarnoski.
REVIEW: Taking its story from the 17th-century ballad “Robin Hood’s Death,” “The Death of Robin Hood” focusses on the murderous, not merry, legacy of the storied thief and killer. This retelling of the story has more to do with Hugh Jackman’s “Logan” than the traditional take. “He was not a hero. He robbed and killed for the joy of it.”
Grim and uncompromising, the movie begins with an aged Robin Hood (Jackman), outlaw archer and equal opportunity killer contemplating his life and the deaths of his victims. He’s murdered so many men, women and children he has lost count, and now finds himself haunted by generations of those who fell at the end of his arrows and blades.
That doesn’t mean he’s going to stop the mayhem, but he’s had a reckoning and now longer finds the joy in taking lives.
Weary, he’s prepared for death when he is grievously wounded in battle. But instead of letting his die, sidekick Little John (Bill Skarsgård) transports him to a remote island and the medical attention of The Prioress (Jodie Comer).
As she nurses him back to health Robin is torn between salvation and the deadly instincts that brought him to The Prioress’s care.
A brutal act of violence in its opening moments immediately differentiates “The Death of Robin Hood” from the romanticized version of the steal-from-the-rich-to-give-to-the-poor character from medieval poems, folk songs and recent movies and television.
Gone is the dashing Douglas Fairbanks style hero, replaced by Jackman’s deeply flawed rogue, a heartless killer who says things like, “I’ll slit your throat and never think of you again.”
Cursed by a gift for violence, he now contemplates if salvation is even available to a man like him.
Director Michael Sarnoski sets the scene for Hood’s reckoning with a series of startling images of brutality. Raw, mano-a-mano-rip-your-foe’s-jaw-off-with-your-bare-hands violence characterizes the film’s first half. It’s unpleasant, raw savagery; all cracking bones, agonized screams and ripping flesh. To paraphrase Marsellus Wallace, Hood and Little John get “medieval on their enemies’ asses.” Shot in low light, these scenes work because of what you don’t see as much as what you do. They are primal, unadorned and brutally effective in showcasing Hood’s special set of skills.
The cloud of unremitting grimness lifts in the film’s second half as Hood becomes introspective, but even then, this film is no barrel of laughs. It is a serious, some might say dire, look at a half-hearted search for redemption.
Jackman does interesting work as the conflicted Hood, but the script’s flowery language doesn’t do him any favors. He’s looking inward, but it feels like there is a barrier between the character and the audience. We never really feel his pain, other than to witness the winces during the blood lettings The Prioress administers to him throughout.
For all its sturm and drang it’s not the introspection that lingers after “The Death of Robin Hood,” it’s the violence, which blunts the potency of the redemption arc, and any ideas of tenderness and morality that may have been on writer/director Sarnoski’s mind.
SYNOPSIS: In “O’Dessa,” a post-apocalyptic musical now streaming on Disney+, “Stranger Things” star Sadie Sink plays the title character, a dirt farmer who follows in her father’s footsteps as a “Rambler,” a musician whose music has the power to “comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable.” When he died he left her a “mighty guitar” and a mission. When the guitar is stolen O’Dessa travels to the dangerous world of Satylite City where the power of her music is tested.
CAST: Sadie Sink, Kelvin Harrison Jr., Murray Bartlett, and Regina Hall. Directed by Geremy Jasper.
REVIEW “O’Dessa” builds a cyberpunk world for its characters to inhabit that feels, like the rest of the movie, like a new story built on the foundations of films like “Mad Max” and “The Hunger Games.”
During its 106-minute runtime “O’Dessa” wears its influences on its colorful sleeve.
Everything from “Phantom of the Paradise” to “Repo! The Genetic Opera” garners a nod, but what writer/director Geremy Jasper’s vision lacks in originality, it makes up for in enthusiasm. This dystopian mash-up is vibrant, often extravagant and may even get your toe lightly tapping along with the folk-rock songs.
Trouble is, while the songs are plentiful, they don’t leave much of an impression, let alone have the power to change the world and bring humanity together.
Visually, Jasper evokes 19809s music videos, with wild splashes of colour and costumes that would make Grace Jones envious but, ultimately, while it may entertain the eye, it won’t engage the brain.
Even a pair of pretty good villains, Regina Hall as wicked Neon Dion and Murray Bartlett (“White Lotus’s” pooping resort manager) as the evil empresario Plutonovich, O’Dessa feels music video stretched to feature length.
Writer/director Jasper’s vision of the future may not be as original, or as engaging, as it could be to really sell the movie’s premise, but there is a sincerity to the idea that music and the arts have the power to change the world.
SYNOPSIS: In “Opus,” a new psychological satire starring Ayo Edebiri and John Malkovich and now playing in theatres, a rookie journalist gets the opportunity of a lifetime when she’s invited to a junket, with a group of experienced reporters and influencers, to visit the remote compound of a legendary pop star, known as “The Wizard of Wiggle,” to listen to his first music in thirty years. Once there, however, she discovers there’s more to the weekend than music.
CAST: Ayo Edebiri, John Malkovich, Juliette Lewis, Murray Bartlett, Amber Midthunder, Young Mazino, Stephanie Suganami and Tatanka Means. Directed by Mark Anthony Green.
REVIEW: “Opus” has a lot on its mind. Writer/director Mark Anthony Green attempts a satire of celebrity culture and the press’s complicity in spreading ideology, personal and political, but as well intentioned as the film may be, Green hits many wrong notes.
To really sell the story of a reclusive pop star, one able to make people worldwide bend to his will, you need an iconic, alluring actor and songs that feel like they could have lit up the charts and the imaginations of millions of people. In John Malkovich you have the star power and the off-kilter charisma to make the pop star Alfred Moretti really pop on screen. From his laconic, vaguely menacing dialogue delivery to his ornate Michel Jackson-esque costumes, he blends Jim Jones and Marc Bolan to create an image of a celebrity as a borderline fascist figure.
It’s a shame then that the music, a key part of the character’s legacy, falls flat. Written by the legendary songwriter/producer/performer Nile Rodgers and The-Dream, the songs have a dreamy house music vibe, but in no way live up to the hype the movie gives them in its first twenty minutes or so.
It’s one of the things that makes “Opus” feel half baked.
A mix of dark comedy, horror and coming-of-age story, it lightly touches on each, culminating in its final moments (NO SPOILERS HERRE) with a talky reveal of Alfred Moretti’s grand plan. Again, no spoilers here, but within the film’s final few moments is a chilling look at celebrity culture and the press’s response to it. It’s a fascinating coda but feels like it could have done without all the window dressing that came before.
“The Bear’s” Ayo Edebiri, as the neophyte journalist, is the “final girl,” the audience proxy and we experience the bizarre goings on through her perspective. Skeptical of Moretti and his motives, she is the only rational person on-screen, and while her performance is grounded, it’s not enough to keep this indulgent and scattershot satire on track.
