I join the CTV NewsChannel to talk about the Bob Dylan biopic “A Complete Unknown,” the epic “The Brutalist,” the sports drama “The Fire Inside,” the unrelenting evil of “Nosferatu,” the office romance of “Babygirl” and the wild biopic “Better Man.”
Watch the whole thing HERE!
I join CTV NewsChannel anchor Scott Hirsch to talk about the Bob Dylan biopic “A Complete Unknown” and the vampire drama “Nosferatu.”
Watch the whole thing HERE!
SYNOPSIS: A gothic tale of an ancient vampire’s infatuation with an innocent young woman, Robert Egger’s “Nosferatu” is a reimaging of F. W. Murnau’s 1922 expressionist horror masterpiece “Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror.”
CAST: Bill Skarsgård, Nicholas Hoult, Lily-Rose Depp, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Emma Corrin, Ralph Ineson, Simon McBurney, and Willem Dafoe. Directed by Robert Eggers.
REVIEW: In a showstopper of an opening, the story of “Nosferatu” begins as Ellen (Lily-Rose Depp) telepathically awakens an ancient evil in the form of Count Orlock, a.k.a. Nosferatu from the dead.
Years later this story of evil and sacrifice continues in 1838 Germany with Ellen, now newly wed to real estate agent Thomas Hutter (Nicholas Hoult).
Recently, Ellen’s nights have been flooded with terrifying dreams she doesn’t understand. Thomas dismisses them as “enchanted memories,” but she thinks her visions portend something terrible for the couple.
When Thomas’s boss Herr Knock (Simon McBurney) asks him to travel to the Carpathian Mountains to meet with an elderly new client named Count Orlock (Bill Skarsgård)—“He has one foot in the grave,” jokes Herr Knock—Ellen doesn’t want him to go, but the job offers the kind of money they need to start a family and soon Thomas is off.
Weeks pass. Ellen’s dreams become so intense her doctor calls in Prof. Albin Eberhart Von Franz (Willem Dafoe), a metaphysician and occult scientist who declares, “I have seen things in this world that would make Isaac Newton crawl back into the womb!”
Meanwhile, at Orlock’s creepy castle, the arduous journey and sleep deprivation caused by strange dreams has left Thomas weakened and afraid. Are his dreams morbid fairy tales, as Orlock suggests, or has the Count, a.k.a. Nosferatu, placed a spell on him, as it appears he has on Ellen?
In Germany, as Orlock’s ship heads for their shores, Ellen and others are held in his telepathic sway. “There is,” Von Franz says, “a dread storm rising.”
Director Robert Eggers breathes new life into “Nosferatu’s” withered lungs, staying true to his gorgeously gothic aesthetic while at the same time paying tribute to F. W. Murnau’s classic 1922 film. Immaculately crafted, unsettling images of scurrying rats, crumbling castles and ominous shadows projected by flickering candlelight create a nightmarish canvas onto which this story of dark obsession and sacrifice is projected.
It will be categorized as a horror film, and there are elements of gore, death and the unnerving auditory experience of hearing Count Orlock drain his victims, but it is an old-school horror movie that aims to unnerve its audience with just a few jump scares and no vats of fake blood. Eggers conveys terror with the film’s atmosphere of dread and depiction of madness, decay and unrelenting, elemental evil.
As the film’s tragic heroine Ellen, Depp carries much of the story’s emotional darkness. Ellen is tormented by visions she doesn’t understand, but Depp doesn’t play her as a victim. It’s more like she’s trapped in a toxic relationship and, as such, carries a complex panoply of feelings. Fear and lust top the list, but ultimately it is the steeliness Depp gives her that makes Ellen a compelling but helplessness and hunted character.
The beating—or, in this case, non-beating—heart of the story is Bill Skarsgård as the vampiric Count Orlock. The Dracula stereotype of the vampire with a cape is out of the window. Instead, Orlock is a long-dead Transylvanian noble man, a figure from some folk tale mythology, complete with a bushy moustache and opulent clothing befitting his aristocratic status. But whatever he was when he was alive, he has transformed into a sinister being, a partially decomposed primordial vision of terror. Unseen for most of the film, save for some stunning shadow play early on, Orlock is an avatar of evil and entitlement.
From Orlock’s slow, deliberate speech to his ferocity, Skarsgård, unrecognizable under an inch of make-up, plays him as though he’s just stepped out of a nightmare.
As Thomas, Hoult is a sturdy leading man, and Dafoe, continuing his exploration of off kilter old timey doctors, is obviously having fun, and brings a hint of lightness to this very dark tale.
“Nosferatu” is a story of shadows and light, both thematically and in its visual style.
In one creepy flourish Eggers utilizes shadows to represent the spread of Orlock’s influence. The image of his hand slowly casting shade over Thomas and Ellen’s hometown of Wisborg is eye popping, both visually and metaphorically. As a stylist Eggers creates an atmosphere of evil that emerges from the darkness, painstakingly enveloping all in its path. There is a terrible beauty in these images, one that plumbs the depths of Orlock’s depravity in ways that is both spellbinding and repulsive.
By the time the end credits roll “Nosferatu” is both a compelling homage to, and a reimaging of, Murnau’s original film. The atmosphere of dread remains, given new life with impressive visuals, but it is in Egger’s revision of the core story of obsession and sacrifice that the film becomes truly horrific.
Fast reviews for busy people! Watch as I review three movies in less time than it takes to tie a bowtie! Have a look as I race against the clock to tell you about the family drama “Here,” the odd couple “A Real Pain” and the courtroom drama “Juror #2.”
Watch the whole thing HERE!
SYNOPSIS: A throwback to the twisty-turny courtroom dramas of the 1980s and 90s, “Juror #2,” now playing in theatres, sees Justin Kemp (Nicholas Hoult) called for jury duty. Like many people, he has a laundry list of reasons why he shouldn’t have to do his civic duty. Nonetheless, he’s chosen to serve at a high-profile murder trial, one that will test his pledge of being fair and impartial in the jury box.
CAST: Nicholas Hoult, Toni Collette, J. K. Simmons, Chris Messina, Zoey Deutch, Kiefer Sutherland. Directed by Clint Eastwood.
REVIEW: Clint Eastwood’s 40th directorial effort is a potboiler, but with the high-minded purpose of examining issues of justice and the price of doing the right thing.
No spoilers here, what follows is the story of the film, but if you want to go in with a blank slate, skip the next paragraph.
Once seated on the jury, Kemp, a man who has pulled his life together since quitting drinking four years previous, realizes that he, and not the accused, is responsible for the death at the center of the prosecution’s case.
That provides the moral dilemma at the heart of “Juror #2.” Kemp’s feelings of self-preservation versus his responsibility to truth and justice hangs over the entire film like a shroud.
Hoult shows us Kemp’s dilemma rather than tell us about it. It’s an introspective performance, one that relies on his anxious exterior and the tortured look behind his eyes. Hoult isn’t flashy, but in his restraint, he paints an effective portrait of a soon-to-be father who is torn up inside.
For the second time in as many months J.K. Simmons, after his bravura work in “Saturday Night,” swoops in and steals every scene he’s in, and then gets out of the way to let Eastwood and Hoult finish the job.
For the most part Eastwood keeps the storytelling taut, allowing Kemp’s quandary to take center stage. It’s not exactly suspenseful, but Eastwood, who turned 94 last May, unfurls the story of conflicted morals in a solidly entertaining, if not exactly innovative, way. The story beats feel reminiscent of the big courtroom dramas of years ago, but Eastwood carefully, and cleverly works his way through moral conundrums to ends up at a restrained, but devastating finale.
“Juror #2” is a little old fashioned, but in all the right ways. Age has not diminished Eastwood’s ability to tell a story, keep the audience engaged and give them something to think about once the end credits have rolled.
I joined BNN Bloomberg to talk about the weakest Memorial Day long weekend in nearly three decades.
Watch the whole thing HERE!
LOGLINE: Lasagna-loving, comic-strip cat Garfield returns to the big screen with a new voice, courtesy of Chris Pratt, and a new adventure. After being abandoned by his street cat father Vic (Samuel L. Jackson) as a kitten, the orange tabby leads a life of leisure with easy-going Jon (Nicholas Hoult) and canine best friend Odie. When Vic reappears, Garfield and Odie leave the lasagna behind to embark on a risky, high-stakes heist.
CAST: Chris Pratt, Samuel L. Jackson, Hannah Waddingham, Ving Rhames, Nicholas Hoult, Cecily Strong, Harvey Guillén, Brett Goldstein, Bowen Yang, Snoop Dogg.
REVIEW: “The Garfield Movie” is a big, action-packed (and product placement heavy) movie that doesn’t really feel like a Garfield movie. It’s a big, colorful action-adventure that will entertain kids, make their eyeballs spin and inspire a giggle or three, but the essence of the character, the sardonic, lazy cat with an obsession for sleeping, has been set aside in favor of a lively, fun character who has little to do with what made the comic-strip popular in the first place.
The new Garfield loses the simplicity of the strip, instead, filling the screen with rapid fire gags and frenetic action. The animation, which feels like a cross between computer generated and the comic-strip, offers up expressive character faces and fun voice work, particularly from Waddingham, who takes a generic villain character and gives her some oomph.
Aside from the father-and-son story, which touches on the importance of family, screenwriters Paul A. Kaplan, Mark Torgove and David Reynolds keep it simple, sentimental and predictable.
“The Garfield Movie” will likely have little appeal for anyone over the age of 10, but has a silly sense of mischief that the younger members of the family may enjoy.
“Renfield,” a new horror comedy starring Nicholas Hoult as the beleaguered familiar to the Prince of Darkness (Nicolas Cage), pays homage to the menace of Universal’s 1931 “Dracula,” while adding some fun with the addition of gory laughs.
Hoult is Robert Montagu Renfield, an assistant to the narcissistic Count Dracula, galvanized with just enough vampiric power to be able to subdue victims for his master’s pleasure.
“Renfield,” sneers Dracula, “your sole purpose is to serve me! Now let’s eat!”
Together for almost 100 years, Renfield spent most of that time eating bugs and risking life and limb to provide for Dracula’s voracious appetite. He’s at his wit’s end, but it’s not until his latest job, looking for potential victims at a counselling group for people trapped in toxic relationships, turns from a hunting ground to a self-actualization session, that he has a moment of clarity.
“I will no longer tolerate abuse,” he says, after listening to the stories shared by the group. “I deserve happiness.”
His journey to a normal life begins with Rebecca Quincy (Awkwafina), a New Orleans traffic cop still stinging from the loss of her father at the hands of the violent Lobo crime family run by Ella (Shohreh Aghdashloo). When Renfield uses his Dracula-given powers to save Rebecca and others from mob enforcer Teddy Lobo (Ben Schwartz), he is seen as a hero for the first time in his life. Empowered, he now faces his greatest enemy, his employer Dracula.
“I will unleash an army of death,” Dracula threatens. “Everyone you care about will suffer because you betrayed me.”
Perhaps an alternate title for “Renfield” might have been “Dracula: I’m OK, You’re OK.” A mix of Bram Stoker and group therapy pioneer Joseph H. Pratt, it is a modern interpretation of the Dracula legend and therapeutic treatment that doesn’t take itself too seriously. The blend of self-help and horror is absurd, but director Chris McKay keeps his foot on the pedal, barreling through the story and recreating vampire lore–in this version, for instance, eating bugs isn’t a sign of madness, it gives Renfield superhero ability—with the efficiency of Van Helsing’s stake carver.
In on the fun are the dueling Nics, Hoult and Cage. This is the hapless Renfield’s story, so his search for freedom and redemption takes a chomp out of the film’s economical 90-minute running time, allowing Hoult to go from sniveling supernatural servant to empowered paladin at a quick pace. It’s a fun, lightweight performance, that works whether he’s opposite Awkwafina, who plays it broad, or Cage who is equal parts creepy, campy and dangerous.
With a mouthful of needle-like teeth, super strength and an uncanny resemblance to Bela Lugosi, Cage sinks his teeth into Dracula in a performance that benefits from the actor’s gonzo approach. He is supernatural, but his narcissistic “I’m the real victim here!” attitude is deeply human, often hilarious and is the lifeblood of the film.
“Renfield” is based on an original pitch by Robert Kirkman, co-creator of “The Walking Dead,” so you know it will deliver the old-school splatter, but it is the way it updates and pays homage to the Dracula legend, filtered through some very dark comedy, that gives it its bite.
“The Menu,” a new dark comedy starring Anya Taylor-Joy and Ralph Fiennes and now playing in theatres, pokes fun at the kind of pretentious restaurant experience where customers, willing to pay $1,250 a head for a tasting menu prepared by a famous chef, aren’t diners, but “ingredients in a degustation concept.”
Renowned Chef Slowik’s (Ralph Fiennes) farm-to-table restaurant Hawthorne, situated on its own, remote 12-acre island, is a hot ticket, seating only 12 people a night. The celebrity chef oversees a brigade of highly trained cooks who diligently create artfully composed haute cuisine plates with names bigger than the actual portion sizes. He’s the anti-Guy Fieri, a chef who thinks of food as an intellectual exercise rather than nourishment.
The guestlist for the night’s exclusive dinner is an eclectic grab bag of rich and famous folks. From a movie star (John Leguizamo) and a haughty food writer (Janet McTeer) and her editor (Paul Adelstein) to Anne and Richard (Judith Light and Reed Birney), a rich couple who have been regulars at the restaurant for years and a troika of obnoxious tech bro one percenters (Rob Yang, Mark St. Cyr and Arturo Castro) who toast to “work and money,” they are all under the spell of Chef Slowik. All except Margot (Taylor-Joy), the last-minute date of foodie and Slowik super-fan Tyler (Nicholas Hoult). “Slowik is not just a chef,” says Tyler breathlessly, “he’s a storyteller.”
There are rules to dining at Hawthorne. No photographs. “Chef strongly believes the beauty of the food lies in its ephemeral nature,” says the restaurant’s stern host Elsa (Hong Chau). Also, don’t eat. What? “Taste. Savor. Relish,” commands the chef. “Consider every morsel you place in your mouth. Do not eat. Our menu is too precious for that.”
In a bit of unintentional foreshadowing, Tyler scans the room and announces, “It’s official. Tonight will be madness.”
“The menu and the night,” the chef announces, “has been painstakingly planned.” Before each course Chef Slowik, who Margot sarcastically refers to as the Lord High Emperor of Sustenance, provides a flowery description of the food about to be served. As the evening wears on, chef’s descriptions become increasingly philosophical. Tensions rise in the room as the chef’s food reveals as much about the people eating it as it does about the chef’s intentions.
“The Menu” is for anyone who creates art—whether it is food, writing, paintings, whatever the form—and feels underappreciated. Slowik takes his delicious revenge on the patrons who “drained the mystery from my art” with their arrogance and entitlement, or worse, committing the cardinal sin of asking for a substation on one of his carefully constructed plates. He is done, he says, “trying to satisfy people who can’t be satisfied.”
Like the recent “Triangle of Sadness” the victims of the movie are oblivious, wealthy people who hide behind their wallets. The world, Slowik says, is divided into two groups, those who give—he and his service industry colleagues—and those who take. His elaborate menu is his gruesome retaliation on the latter.
A heaping helping of suspension of disbelief is required to enjoy the satire of “The Menu,” but by the time it makes its intentions clear, the film sates the appetite for dark comedy. It’s as subtle as fermented Surströmming (look it up) but this mix of horror and humor has more to offer than shock value. Food for thought on how art is consumed (literally in this case), it’s about the passion of the artist and what happens when it fades.
“The Menu” is buoyed by terrific performances, particularly from Fiennes as the perfectionist chef and Taylor-Joy as the pragmatic Margot, but most importantly, because all the characters are as sour as vinegar, you never quite know where the story is going. That unpredictability is exciting, leaving the characters, and the audience, walking on eggshells.
