SYNOPSIS: In the new animated movie “Smurfs,” starring the voice of Rihanna and now playing in theatres, what begins as No Name Smurf’s (James Corden) search for identity becomes a more traditional rescue mission when Papa Smurf (John Goodman) is abducted by the evil wizard Razamel (JP Karliak).
CAST: Rihanna, James Corden, Nick Offerman, JP Karliak, Daniel Levy, Amy Sedaris, Natasha Lyonne, Sandra Oh, Jimmy Kimmel, Octavia Spencer, Nick Kroll, Hannah Waddingham, Alex Winter, Maya Erskine, Kurt Russell, and John Goodman. Directed by Chris Miller.
REVIEW: A fun but ultimately underwhelming addition to the “Smurf” film series, the fourth franchise instalment “Smurfs” brings the whimsy and some good messages for kids but mostly feels like a rehash of their other films.
The action, which is pedal to the metal, begins with No Name Smurf’s (James Corden) identity crisis. Rather, his lack of identity crisis. Like the Seven Dwarfs, all the other Smurfs have names that reflect their personality. There’s Brainy Smurf (Xolo Maridueña), Vanity Smurf (Maya Erskine), Worry Smurf (Billie Lourd) and so on. When No Name suddenly develops the ability to summon magic from his fingertips, he feels he has found his purpose.
Problem is, his new powers attract the attention of evil wizard Razamel (JP Karliak) who kidnaps Papa Smurf (John Goodman) to get his evil hands on a magical book hidden in Smurf Village.
That sets off a rescue mission. Led by No Name and Smurfette (Rihanna, who produced the film plus wrote and recorded an original song for the soundtrack) the merry band of Smurfs travel the world. From a crazy claymation world and the inside of a mirror ball to real world (i.e. not animated) hotspots like France and Germany, they leave no stone unturned in their search.
To use Smurf vernacular, “It’s a load of smurf.”
That is to say, there’s a lot going on, often at a pace that resembles a blue streak smeared across the screen. Many of the sequences are imaginative, bordering on psychedelic—I think I now understand why the Smurfs live in magic mushrooms, er… make that mushroom houses—that entertain the eye and display a level of craft, but it’s as if director Chris Miller and screenwriter Pam Brady amped up the action to supersonic speeds to distract from the fact that story wise this is as basic as it gets.
Tone wise, it’s a different story. There’s a handful of heartfelt, radio friendly pop songs, and while they’re good tunes, there’s not enough of them to be able to call this a musical.
There are laughs, although at least some of them are of a decidedly adult nature. The film’s biggest giggle, for the grown-ups anyway, comes near the end with some judiciously applied censor bleeps courtesy of Sound Effects Smurf (Spencer X).
Like I said, “It’s a load of smurf.” A hodgepodge of music, gentle mayhem, intergenerational humour and good messages about respect, community, resilience and being yourself, it’s well performed by an interesting array of voice actors (Rihanna, John Goodman, James Corden, Nick Offerman, Daniel Levy, Amy Sedaris, Natasha Lyonne, Sandra Oh, Kurt Russell to name a few) but the scattershot storytelling may leave you feeling blue, but not in the way the filmmakers intended.
SYNOPSIS: In “I Don’t Understand You,” a new horror-comedy now playing in theatres, Nick Kroll and Andrew Rannells play Dom and Cole, a wealthy American couple whose tenth anniversary trip to Italy devolves into chaos when they get lost on the way to a fancy restaurant located in a rural farm. “I thought we would die here,” Cole says. “Alone in a rental car.” Complicating an already complicated situation, their surrogate (Amanda Seyfried) goes into early labor and asks them to return from their trip earlier than planned.
CAST: Nick Kroll, Andrew Rannells, Morgan Spector, Eleonora Romandini and Amanda Seyfried. Written and directed by David Joseph Craig and Brian Crano.
REVIEW: Mean spirited, but often very funny, “I Don’t Understand You” mixes deadpan humor with buckets of blood in a story of a vacation gone horribly wrong.
Loosely based on the real-life vacations-gone-wild and adoption fraud experiences of writer/directors David Joseph Craig and Brian Crano, the movie is a farcical mix-and-match of misunderstandings and murder that still manages to find time for tenderness.
That comes courtesy of Nick Kroll and Andrew Rannells, who, when they aren’t accidentally killing the locals, have great chemistry and the lived-in feel of a real couple. That both are also masters of the throw-away, funny comment is an added bonus as they humorously remark on the increasingly chaotic goings on.
As funny as the leads are, the movie struggles to reconcile adoption anxiety and mayhem. The story’s adoption fraud angle is left mostly unexplored, serving primarily as a McGuffin for the mayhem in Italy. As a result, “I Don’t Understand You” has some tonal problems, but its commitment to outrageous fun trumps whatever wonky feeling is left behind by the script.
SYNOPSIS: In the new Yuletide action flick “Red One,” when Santa Claus (code name: Red One) is kidnapped twenty-four hours before Christmas, the North Pole’s Head of Security, an ELF “(Extremely Large and Formidable”) named Callum Drift, played by Dwayne Johnson, teams with Jack O’Malley (Chris Evans), hacker and the world’s best tracker, in a dangerous mission to save Christmas. “There are worse ways to go out than saving Santa Claus,” says Jack.
CAST: Dwayne Johnson, Chris Evans, Lucy Liu, Kiernan Shipka, Bonnie Hunt, Nick Kroll, Kristofer Hivju, Wesley Kimmel, and J. K. Simmons. Directed by Jake Kasdan.
REVIEW: As Santa’s bodyguard Callum Drift, Dwayne Johnson complains that for the first time ever more people are on the naughty list than the nice list. It’s ironic, then, that as the star of “Red One,” the new high-tech, low-reward holiday movie directed by Jake Kasdan, Johnson’s name belongs at the top of that ignominious list.
A Christmas movie with product placement for the whole family, from Hot Wheels to Bulleit Bourbon, it’s a formulaic action film, with generic CGI battles and Johnson in automaton mode.
Johnson is in his wheelhouse. This is a big family action flick, reminiscent of “Disney’s Jungle Cruise” and “Jumanji: The Next Level.” Difference is, both those movies gave Johnson the chance to exercise his comedy chops as well as his muscle-bound physique. “Red One” sees him as a dour, oversized ELF with resting Grinch face who, when he isn’t barking orders is glaring at the film’s baddies. Despite one slightly amusing size-shifting fight scene, it’s a particularly uninspired performance that should get noticed come Razzie Awards time.
Chris Evan fares slightly better. He shrugs off the Captain America persona to play a Jack, a deadbeat dad, drunk and degenerate gambler. “I’m not a scrupulous person,” he sneers. “Ask anybody.”
Of course, they will learn from one another. Jack will discover how to be good from Callum, while proving to Callum that there is good in everyone, even a “Level Four Naughty Lister.” The movie’s messages of nice triumphing over naughty are the usual holiday fare, hammered home with the subtility of fifty-foot Christmas tree.
Add to that a forgettable villain with very little screen time and even less presence when we do see her and you’re left with a film about the magic of Christmas, with very little magic.
“Red One” is a big, $300 million movie, but, as the season has taught us, not all good things come in big packages.
There is more to “Don’t Worry Darling,” the new science fiction mystery starring Florence Pugh and Harry Styles, and now playing in theatres, than “Spitgate.” That’s the unfortunate viral video that made it appear that Styles dropped a loogie into co-star Chris Pine’s lap at the film’s Venice Film Festival premiere.
Put that out of your mind, or at least don’t watch it again and again on TikTok until you’ve visited the film’s setting, the suburban Southern California company town of Victory. A picture- perfect place that makes Pleasantville seem edgy, it’s a manicured paradise where it’s always sunny, there is a classic car in every driveway and everyone has a pool in the backyard.
But something seems slightly off. It’s like Rob and Laura Petrie through a looking glass.
All the men in town, like Alice Chambers’s (Pugh) husband Jack (Styles), work for the Victory Project, run by Frank (Chris Pine), a visionary in the field of the “development of progressive materials” for a chaos free world.
“Frank has built something truly special,” says Frank’s wife Shelly (Gemma Chan), “What he’s created out here, it’s a different way. A better way.” He’s a mid-century modern Tony Robbins, a slick talker who says he sees greatness in all his “intrepid explorers,” i.e. the residents of Victory.
His “better way” is also a top-secret way. The business conducted at the Victory Project Headquarters is known only to the men=, an arrangement that seems to suit most of the women just fine, but when Margaret (Kiki Layne) challenges the status quo, claiming that something sinister is happening in their town, Alice opens her eyes and has a hard look around. “I need you to listen to me,” she says. “They’re lying about everything.”
Are they living in Victory or the Twilight Zone?
“Don’t Worry Darling” has style to burn, an intriguing performance from Pugh, whose malleable face reveals wide arcs of emotions with simple, subtle movements. There’s a completely credible turn from pop star Styles, some very cool cars and impressive world building in the first half.
Director Olivia Wilde, who also produces and has a meaty supporting role, creates an uneasy utopia, a welcoming, but too-good-to-be-true place.
That’s the good stuff.
When the film turns into something that feels like an overly long episode of “Black Box,” it begins to show its wear and tear. The twist (no spoilers here) is handled clumsily. One can’t wonder if Rod Serling could have handled this in a more elegant and succinct way.
Unfortunately, “Don’t Worry Darling” will likely spur more gossip (re: “Spitgate” et al) than conversations about its themes. It does raise interesting questions about what constitutes a perfect life and the importance of having agency over one’s existence, but the bungled ending sucks whatever subtextual profundity may lie buried in Katie Silberman’s script.
The weird and wonderful Addams Family, Gomez (Oscar Isaac), Morticia (Charlize Theron), Wednesday (Chloë Grace Moretz), Pugsley (Javon ‘Wanna’ Walton) and their chrome domed Uncle Fester (Nick Kroll), are just like any other family. Sure, they live in a house of horrors and are “mysterious and spooky and all together ooky,” but underneath it all, they are a regular, loving family.
The latest instalment in their lengthy documentation of family life, the animated “The Addams Family 2,” now playing in theatres and premium VOD, sees Gomez and Morticia, like so many parents, concerned that their kids are growing up too fast.
The action begins at Wednesday’s high school science fair. When she only earns a participation award for her project—transferring octopus intelligence into her Uncle Fester—she becomes more withdrawn than usual. To bring the family back together, Gomez and Morticia plan a family road trip to—where else?—Death Valley.
Along the way complications arise, including Cyrus Strange (Wallace Shawn, son of editor William Shawn who ran the Addams Family cartoons for decades in the pages of the New Yorker), an evil scientist who convinces Wednesday she is not really part of the Addams Family.
“The Addams Family 2” has top flight voice work from Isaac, Theron and especially Moretz, who nails the detached but spirited tone of her death-obsessed character. Her empowerment—”I’m not a freak,” she says, “I’m a force of nature.”—will also likely strike a chord with anyone who has felt like an outsider.
What the film doesn’t nail, however, is that Addams Family X-factor, the sense of gleeful dread. This is mainstream family animation, padded with songs and dance numbers, that smooths out the offbeat, macabre heart and soul of the source material. It’s goofy, not ooky, with none of the eccentric charm of the 1960s TV show.
Directors Greg Tiernan and Conrad Vernon bring a light touch to the story, where none was needed.
You get three stories for the price of one in the 100% Louis CK-free “The Secret Life of Pets 2.” The episodic sequel to the 2016 animated hit front loads a lot of plot into its snappy 87 minutes but doesn’t forget to blend in life messages for kids on finding inner courage. “The first step in not being afraid,” says wily old sheepdog Rooster (Harrison Ford), “is acting like you are not afraid.”
Jack Russell Terrier Max, previously voiced by CK, now sounds like Patton Oswalt. He and his odd couple pal, the shaggy Newfoundland mix Duke (Eric Stonestreet), now must now share their Brooklyn home with a new roommate, their owner’s (Ellie Kemper) new baby Liam. The toddler’s presence raises Max anxiety level—”He is perfect,” Max says fretfully, “and I will keep him safe.”—until the family takes a trip to the country and he meets Rooster, a Yoda-like character who teaches him to be himself and not be an overprotective helicopter parent for Liam.
Meanwhile Max’s girlfriend, a vivacious Pomeranian named Gidget (Jenny Slate), must take lessons in how to act like a tabby from her catnip-loving feline friend Chloe (Lake Bell) to rescue Max’s favorite squeaky toy from an apartment overrun by cats.
Then, when Molly (Kiely Renaud) starts dressing bunny and former flushed pet Snowball (Kevin Hart) in cute superhero pajamas he believes the hype and behave like a movie crime fighter. His skills are tested when a brave Shih Tzu named Daisy (Tiffany Haddish) asks him to assist on a dangerous mission. “I don’t mean to sound dramatic,” she says, “but a poor defenseless animal needs saving.”
Themes of inner courage and facing fears are woven through each story and come together the last twenty minutes or so as the pets all join forces.
The Gidget and Snowball storylines have the kind of playfulness you expect from Illumination, the company that gave us the anarchic jellybean-shaped Minions. Max’s life-altering adventures on the farm, which take up a great deal of the scant running time, feels borrowed from other, better kid-friendly fare like the “Toy Story” franchise.
The voice work is a mixed bag. Ford is a howl as the gruff old timer who imparts life-changing advice. If they do another of these “Pets” movies he should graduate to main character status. Slate is a hyperactive bundle of energy and Hart and Haddish are a fun duo that add much spark to their segment. Oswalt, so distinctive in “Ratatouille,” doesn’t teach Max any new tricks.
“The Secret Life of Pets 2” feels like three episodes of a “Pets” television show banged together to (almost) feature length. Pet lovers may recognize and enjoy some of the behavior—a cat coughing up a hairball on her sleeping owner and the protective nature of Max and Rooster—but it won’t beat spending the day with your real-life, cuddly pet.
There seems to be something about basketball themed TV commercials that strike a chord with Hollywood. First it was Michael Jordan vs. Looney Tunes in “Space Jam” and now comes “Uncle Drew,” a new inspirational comedy featuring starring Kyrie Irving as the character he created for Pepsi Max.
The story begins with Footlocker employee Dax (“Get Out’s” Lil Rel Howery), broke after draining his bank account to sponsor a team in the Rucker Classic street ball tournament in Harlem. It is the epicenter of streetball, we’re told, “where the legends of the game you were born.”
The prize is $100,000 but more important than the money is showing up someone from his childhood, his nemesis Mookie (Nick Kroll), “the ghost of white boy past” who bullied Dax when they were players. “What’s that smell?” asks Mookie. “Is it a grudge?”
When Dax loses his best player and girlfriend (Tiffany Haddish) to Mookie he turns to an icon, streetball pioneer Uncle Drew (Kyrie Irving). Now in his seventies the onetime local legend once beat someone at a game of one-on-one with only his left hand while eating a ham sandwich (with extra cheese and mayo on it) with the right. He is the “Zen master of basketball,” but hasn’t played since his team skipped the 1968 Rucker Classic for personal reasons.
Together they hit the road to recruit a sure-fire team of Uncle Drew’s septuagenarian pals (Shaquille O’Neal, Chris Webber, Reggie Miller, Nate Robinson, and Lisa Leslie all hidden under layers of make-up) to take one last run at the game on the 50th anniversary of the game they never got to play.
“Uncle Drew” is a sports movie based on a commercial but there’s more swishes than misses here. It’s a sweet natured film about respect, teamwork—“Gladys Knight ain’t nothing without the Pips,” says Uncle Drew.—resilience and second chances. It is an undeniable, if somewhat predictable, feel good movie that doesn’t aim any higher than the rim of a basketball hoop. Filled with old coot advice we learn, “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take,” and, “You don’t stop playing because you get old you get old because you stop playing,” it plays like a heavy-handed sports Successtory with loads of improv comedy.
David Soren calls Captain Underpants: The First Epic Movie, his adaptation of Dav Pilkey’s bestselling books for kids, subversive.
The animated film is the story of rambunctious fourth graders George Beard and Harold Hutchins (voiced by Kevin Hart and Thomas Middleditch). Best friends, they write, illustrate and sell homemade comics about their favourite character, Captain Underpants. “Most superheroes look like they’re flying around in their underwear,” they giggle. “This guy actually does.” They are also pranksters so often in trouble there are two chairs outside the principal’s office labelled, “Reserved for George” and “Reserved for Harold.”
Soren says that wild temperament “is one of the things that made the books successful and controversial at the same time. I’ve never personally understood the controversy, specifically in the case of the books. There is a rebellious spirit to those characters. They are not little angels and I think that is part of why kids love reading them.”
George and Harold’s principal, Mr. Krupp (voiced by Ed Helms), is a grumpy old man who hates comics, Christmas and kittens among other things, and has a plan to put an end to the pranks and annihilate their friendship.
David Soren was born in Toronto and raised in Hamilton.
“They’ve got a terrible principal,” Soren continues, “who is doing horrible things to their school, cancelling music and arts and putting an electronic door opening in his office instead. (It’s good to) stand up to that kind of authority, it deserves to be questioned.
“These days it is not a bad thing for kids in general to have their own voice and stand up for themselves and have rights. I always saw that as a really inspiring part of those books and a key to their success.
“I think of my son now. He’s in fourth grade and in the earlier grades there was a lot more creativity, a lot more play in the education and suddenly it gets a lot more regimented. It gets more like school and it is sort of frustrating to watch how that can be beaten out of kids. You want to protect that aspect of creativity.”
The Toronto-born, Hamilton-raised animator has worked in Los Angeles for 20 years, working on films like The Road to El Dorado, Chicken Run and Shrek, and writing and directing Turbo, the story of a snail who dreams of racing in the Indianapolis 500. It’s a resumé that suggests he’s hung onto his childlike creativity.
“I think it is something I never lost. You need a little bit of that nonconformist attitude when you are an artist, and making movies in general. Especially when you’re trying to get a point of view across. Movies are best when they have a point of view and if they get too watered down or become too generic they cease to have an identity anymore.”
There’s no question Captain Underpants: The First Epic Movie has an identity. How many other movies feature a talking toilet or a musical Whoopee Cushion symphony?
“Obviously you can’t make a Captain Underpants movie without potty humour,” he says. “But we did hold ourselves to a very high standard. We would not go there unless it was truly very funny.”
When I compliment Soren on giving a character the wonderfully silly name Diarrheastein, he’s chuffed. “I will take that as a great compliment,” he laughs.
As if there weren’t already enough superheroes on the big screen these days, along comes another one tailor made for the younger set. “Captain Underpants: The First Epic Movie” is an animated film based on Dav Pilkey’s bestselling books for kids.
Kevin Hart and Thomas Middleditch loan their voices to rambunctious fourth graders George Beard and Harold Hutchins. The pair write, illustrate and sell homemade comics like “Sad Worm” and Wrath of the Wicked Wedgie Woman.” Their favourite character is Captain Underpants. “Most superheroes look like they’re flying around in their underwear,” they say. “This guy actually does.”
They are also pranksters who get in trouble so often there are two chairs outside the principal’s office labelled, Reserved for George and Reserved for Harold. Their principal, Mr. Benjamin “Benny” Krupp (Ed Helms), a grumpy old man who hates comics, Christmas and kittens among other things has an plan to put an end to the pranks, and “annihilate your friendship.”
He plans to split them up, placing them in different classes. “You won’t be together,” says Krupp. “You won’t be able to enjoy each other and ruin my life.” To avoid being separated George accidentally puts Krupp into a trance using his Hypno-Ring, the most powerful item ever found in the cereal box, turning him into Captain Underpants.
The Captain Underpants has few actual superhero powers, but his skills—along with his sidekicks George and Harold—will be tested as he does battle with the evil substitute teacher Professor Pee-Pee Diarrheastein Poopypants Esquire (Nick Kroll). Tired of people making fun of his name the mad genius inventor and revenge seeker, plans to eliminate laughter from the world by destroying everyone’s Hahaguffawchuckleamalus, the part of the brain that controls the human capacity for mirth.
His secret weapon? The Turbo Toilet 2000, a giant toilet invented by humourless classmate Melvin Sneedly (Jordan Peele). Because he has no sense of humour—“He’s like a chair or a supermodel,” says Poopypants—Melvin is the supervillain’s perfect sidekick.
As befitting a story about two troublemakers “Captain Underpants: The First Epic Movie” embraces the kid friendly anarchy of Pilkey’s books. It zips along in a flash of gags, bright colours and textures. Director David “Turbo” Doren utilizes state of the art computer generated images plus puppets, flipbook animation and children’s drawings come-to-life to illustrate the story. It’s lively and fun and if you don’t like a joke, hang on, there will be another one a second later.
That potty humour is the lowest form of wit is a running gag throughout but a film titled “Captain Underpants: The First Epic Movie” wouldn’t be quite the same without it. It’s hard to image the story without the musical Whoopee Cushion symphony or the wonderfully silly name Diarrheastein. If, like Melvin, you have to ask, “Why is it funny?” then maybe it’s not for you, but if you’ve ever giggled in science class at the name Uranus, you’ll enjoy.
