I appear on “CTV News at 11:30” with anchor Andria Case to talk about the weekend’s best shows including the fiery “28 Years Later: The Bone Temple” and the shake, rattle and roll of “The Testament of Ann Lee.”
I join CP24 to talk about the fiery “28 Years Later: The Bone Temple,” the crime drama “Dead Man’s Wire,” the shake, rattle and roll of “The Testament of Ann Lee” and the family friendly “Charlie the Wonderdog.”
I join “CTV News Toronto at Five” with anchor Zuraidah Alman to talk about new movies in theatres including the fiery “28 Years Later: The Bone Temple,” the crime drama “Dead Man’s Wire” and the shake, rattle and roll of “The Testament of Ann Lee.”
I join the CTV NewsChanel to talk about the fiery “28 Years Later: The Bone Temple,” the crime drama “Dead Man’s Wire” and the shake, rattle and roll of “The Testament of Ann Lee.”
I sit in on the CFRA Ottawa morning show with host Bill Carroll to talk about the new movies coming to theatres including the fiery “28 Years Later: The Bone Temple,” the crime drama “Dead Man’s Wire,” the shake, rattle and roll of “The Testament of Ann Lee” and the family friendly “Charlie the Wonderdog.”
Fast reviews for busy people! Watch as I review three movies in less time than it takes to make the bed! Have a look as I race against the clock to tell you about the fiery “28 Years Later: The Bone Temple,” the crime drama “Dead Man’s Wire” and the shake, rattle and roll of “The Testament of Ann Lee.”
SYNOPSIS: In “The Testament of Ann Lee,” a historical musical drama now playing in theatres, Amanda Seyfried stars as the titular character, the 18th-century founder of the Shaker religious movement.
CAST: Amanda Seyfried, Thomasin McKenzie, Lewis Pullman, Tim Blake Nelson, Christopher Abbott, Stacy Martin, Matthew Beard, Scott Handy, Viola Prettejohn, Jamie Bogyo, and David Cale. Directed by Mona Fastvold (who co-wrote with Brady Corbet).
REVIEW: “The Testament of Ann Lee” is a historical musical, but it’s no “Les Misérables” or “Hamilton.” The music takes a turn from Broadway to traditional Shaker hymns that fuel the film’s feverish spirituality.
Narrated by Ann Lee’s loyal disciple Mary (Thomasin McKenzie), “The Testament of Ann Lee’s” remarkable story unfolds in three chapters beginning in 18th-century England. Lee (Amanda Seyfried), a young woman born into poverty in Manchester, struggles with her faith after losing four children in infancy. Her life finds purpose when she has spiritual visions suggesting she is the second coming of Christ, and joins a radical offshoot of the Quakers, who allowed female pastors.
Preaching gender and social equality, communal living and pacifism, she differentiates herself and her followers from the Quakers by an oath of celibacy and using communal ecstatic dance to “shake” off sin. Nicknamed the Shaking Quakers, or simply the Shakers, they faced persecution in England which forced Ann and her flock to relocate to America in search of religious freedom.
Her messages of pacifism and gender equality do not go down well in the New World, and she is accused of witchcraft and treason for her refusal to support of the Revolutionary War.
A singular and otherworldly movie, “The Testament of Ann Lee” is as passionate as its lead character. Anchored by a career best performance from Seyfried, it’s a portrait of a woman whose agony and ecstasy challenged the societal norms of the day.
Seyfried presides over every scene with conviction. Sometimes visceral, sometimes vulnerable, she’s always intriguing. Lee is a person fueled by tragedy and trauma to find a new path in life, and Seyfried plays her with compassion, empathy and determination. It’s her commitment to the material that keeps “The Testament of Ann Lee” on track.
“The Testament of Ann Lee” features a great deal of music but isn’t a musical in the traditional sense. The characters don’t suddenly burst into song. Instead, the songs are woven through the narratives as part of the religious worship. Performed with biblical enthusiasm, the musical numbers have a hypnotic feel that transcends theatricality to become a blissful display of faith.
“The Testament of Ann Lee” is a cradle to grave historical biography, but it isn’t a Wikipedia entry style film. Instead, it’s an unusual film that explores spirituality through a retelling of an unconventional woman’s life.
SYNOPSIS: In “The Brutalist,” an epic new story of the American Dream starring Adrien Brody, Felicity Jones and Guy Pierce and now playing in theatres, a Jewish Hungarian-born architect survives the Holocaust, only to struggle to find success in the United States. His life changes when a wealthy patron recognizes his talent.
CAST: Adrien Brody, Felicity Jones, Guy Pearce, Joe Alwyn, Raffey Cassidy, Stacy Martin, Emma Laird, Isaach de Bankolé, Alessandro Nivola. Directed by Brady Corbet.
REVIEW: At three-and-a-half hours with a fifteen-minute intermission, “The Brutalist” is the kind of sweeping, personal epic we don’t see very often. Think “There Will Be Blood” and “Oppenheimer” and you’ll get the idea.
Spanning 33 years, the film begins with Hungarian Holocaust survivor and Bauhaus-trained architect László Tóth (Adrien Brody), separated from his wife Erzsébet (Felicity Jones) and his niece Zsófia (Raffey Cassidy) in Budapest during World War II. Once in the United States, alone, save for his cousin and his wife (Alessandro Nivola and Emma Laird), László’s life is up and down. Once a celebrated architect, he now dabbles in drugs, does menial jobs and lives in the basement of a church. It isn’t until his previous work in Europe is noticed by wealthy industrialist Harrison Lee Van Buren (Guy Pierce) that his fortunes change.
Hired by Van Buren to design a community centre as a monument to his late mother, László creates an ambitious design, complete with a library, a theater, a gymnasium and chapel, quietly incorporating the brutalist elements of the prison at Buchenwald where he was incarcerated. His artistic temperament leads to conflicts with the Van Burens, and his own family.
“The Brutalist” uses the broad canvas of László’s personal story to comment on themes of assimilation, iconoclasm, identity, creativity and the American Dream.
László’s refusal to compromise and his unconventional methods reverberate with echoes of Ayn Rand’s “The Fountainhead,” although director Brady Corbet (who co-wrote the script with Mona Fastvold) shifts the focus from rugged individualism to the immigrant experience.
Rand’s exploration of Objectivism, her philosophy of productive achievement as the noblest activity, is filtered through László’s experience as an immigrant who is told, “We tolerate you,” by the entitled Harry van Buren (Joe Alwyn). Rand’s take in self-interest as the road to happiness is replaced by László’s bittersweet reality of assimilation as personal and professional suppression at the hands of the Van Burens.
It’s a fascinating lens with which to observe László and his family’s tainted American Dream. It is an epic story, told in epic style. Corbet shoots in high resolution, widescreen VistaVision, flooding the screen with gorgeously composed images, set to Daniel Blumberg’s mesmeric score.
Against that backdrop are Brody, in his meatiest role since his Oscar winning turn in “The Pianist,” convincingly portrays László’s broken psyche and tortured genius as roadside stops on the way to his emotional ruin. It’s an impressive performance, one that feels lived-in and weathered. Without Brody at the film’s core as a man who loses himself, “The Brutalist’s” emotional impact would be much blunted.
As Erzsébet, who plays a major role in the film’s second half, Jones displays a grit earned by years of suffering.
The film’s showiest performance belongs to the charismatic Pierce whose flamboyant performance is a grabber, particularly when he’s sparring with Brody.
These three key performances, coupled with a terrific supporting cast, are as ambitious in their personal scope as the film is in its big picture approach.
Like the architecture it showcases—large intimidating structures that feel simultaneously claustrophobic and vast—“The Brutalist” is beautiful but overwhelming in its scope.
“The Night House,” a new thriller starring Rebecca Hall and now playing in theatres, explores the psychological damage left behind after tragedy and secrets tear a couple apart.
When we first meet upstate New York high school teacher Beth (Hall) she is lost in grief in the aftermath of her husband Owen’s (Evan Jonigkeit) sudden death. She’s angry, self-medicating with alcohol to dull the pain.
At night, alone in the beautiful lake house he built for them, she is tormented by ghostly visions. Bloody footprints appear, the stereo snaps on by itself to play “their song” and there are loud knocks at the door, but when she opens the door, there’s nobody there. During the daylight hours, she’s left with her grief and a nagging sense that Owen left behind as many secrets as he did memories.
Her friend Claire (Sarah Goldberg) and neighbour Mel (Vondie Curtis-Hall) offer support, but the horrifying visions and aural experiences continue, pushing her to the edge. As she packs up his things, clothes, books, the compiled ephemera of a life, she uncovers evidence that Owen had a hidden life involving the occult and a number of women who look remarkably like Beth.
“The Night House” is a gothic psychological horror film anchored by Hall’s remarkable performance. She turns the idea of the grieving widow on its head, playing Beth as indignant and unsympathetic. As she cycles through the stages of grief, focusing on the anger, it’s gut wrenching. An early scene with the mother of one of her students complaining about her son’s poor grade is brutal in its honesty laid bare. She is an open wound and Hall commits to the edgier aspects of the character, allowing the viewer a window into Beth’s world.
Director David Bruckner builds plenty of atmosphere and a sense of the strange that keeps the off-kilter story afloat despite the script’s leaps of logic. As Beth’s inner turmoil escalates the story adds in too many elements that don’t go anywhere like a second house in the woods and Beth’s doppelganger. As the script becomes more and more convoluted the intensity built in the film’s first half dissipates.
“The Night House” is a provocative look at grief with a great lead performance but is undone by a drawn-out approach to the story.