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.”
Watch the whole thing HERE! (Starts at 14:05)
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.”
Watch the whole thing HERE!
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.”
Watch the whole thing HERE! (Starts at 16:18)
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.”
Watch the whole thing HERE!
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.”
Listen to the whole thing HERE!
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.”
Watch the whole thing HERE!
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.
In “Eileen,” a 1960s-set, Hitchcockian psychological thriller starring Thomasin McKenzie and Anne Hathaway, a lonely woman’s life takes a sinister turn when she meets a glamorous new co-worker.
Mckenzie is the title character, a lonely and unhappy twenty-something secretary at a small-town Massachusetts juvenile detention centre. She lives with her ex-cop father (Shea Whigham), a widower with a nasty drinking problem and a personality to match. “Get a life, Eileen,” he says to her. “Get a clue.”
To pass the days she daydreams of having relations with her co-workers and, at night, is a voyeur, spying on couples making out in their cars at Look Out Point.
She is invisible at home and at work; a blank slate. “Some people, they’re the real people,” Eileen’s dad says. “Like in a movie. They’re the ones you watch, they’re the ones making moves. And other people, they’re just there, filling the space. That’s you, Eileen. You’re one of them.”
A ray of light in the form of Dr. Rebecca St. John (Anne Hathaway) illuminates the dark corners of Eileen life. Stylish and vivacious, the detention centre’s new counsellor is everything Eileen isn’t. A glamorous vision, squeezed into a red dress, topped with a burst of blonde hair, Rebecca drinks and smokes— “It’s a nasty habit,” she says, sparking up a fresh Pall Mall, “that’s why I like it.”—and her arrival inspires Eileen to examine her own wants and desires.
As Rebecca takes an interest in Sam Polk (Lee Nivola), a young inmate convicted of a gruesome crime, revealing a dark secret, Eileen shows there is more to her than meets the eye.
Based on the 2015 novel by Ottessa Moshfegh, “Eileen” begins as a character study, a slice-of-life look at a floundering woman, becomes a multi-pronged psychological thriller in its final third. The film takes an audacious turn, one that changes the film’s power dynamic, and closes things off with a bang (and a tremendous performance from Marin Ireland as Rita Polk, but no spoilers here).
Until then, it is a slow burn, a film that luxuriates in its characters. Mckenzie balances the character’s bored exterior with her bombastic inner life, creating Eileen, a ticking time bomb of emotion, careening toward a life defining moment (no spoilers here). It’s finely tuned work that cuts through the film’s dark ennui.
Hathaway has the showier role as Hitchcockian icy blonde Rebecca. Intelligent, enticing and ultimately empathic, she stands in stark contrast to the movie’s deliberately dull backdrop. Rebecca is a polar opposite to Eileen, the catalyst that gives the movie its spark.
“Eileen” is more about what’s left unsaid, than it is about the obvious story points (keeping it vague and spoiler free here). The suggestion of a budding relationship as a hand brushes against a knee, a shared slow dance in a bar and stolen looks, is ultimately more suspenseful than the pulpy twist at the film’s end. The end, while impactful, is more conventional than we might have expected from this moody period piece.
“The Power of the Dog,” now playing in theatres before making the move to Netflix, is a story of self-loathing that is equal parts straightforward and exasperating. Much like its main character Phil Burbank (Benedict Cumberbatch), the movie has moments of interest but is ultimately frustrating.
The film begins in mid-1920s Montana. The Burbank brothers, Phil (Cumberbatch) and George (Jesse Plemons), are wealthy ranchers and polar opposites. The only thing they seem to have in common is a reverence for their mentor, the deceased rancher Bronco Henry.
Phil, we learn, studied the classics at Yale, but prefers to live a basic life. He likes the company of horses and the ranch hands, rarely bathes and is quick with a cruel remark.
George is a gentleman rancher. He wears suits, topped with a bowler hat, throws dinner parties at the family home and falls in love with Rose Gordon (Kirsten Dunst), a widowed restaurant owner with a gay son named Peter (Kodi Smit-McPhee) who wants to study medicine like his late father. Although he says he’s happy not to be alone, George takes Rose for granted and she turns to the bottle.
Rose’s presence brings out the worst in Phil who takes every opportunity to belittle his brother’s new wife, and catcall her son. Peter is a quiet presence on the ranch during his school break, but as time goes on, it is clear he sees himself as his mother’s protector. “When my father passed, I wanted nothing more than my mother’s happiness,” Peter says. “For what kind of man would I be if I did not help my mother? If I did not save her?”
“The Power of the Dog” isn’t so much driven by its narrative as it is by the characters and an intense central performance.
As Phil, Cumberbatch is an enigma. An unwashed and gravelly-voiced bully, his guard is constantly up. Cumberbatch and director Jane Campion slowly reveal bits of Phil’s backstory through subtle references and scenes. We never get a full picture, and fear of revealing spoilers prevents me from elaborating, but it appears the character’s self-loathing and fragile masculinity seem to drive his vile behaviors. Cumberbatch maintains the mystery of the character, while allowing the odd slip of vulnerability appear, even if it sometimes feels as if he’s playing a studied caricature of a cowboy.
Campion delivers the material in a slow burn. Tensions build, but the level of repression on screen prevents total engagement with the characters. By the time the end credits roll “The Power of the Dog” proves itself to be a beautifully crafted film with a handful of emotionally affecting scenes but an underwhelming overall effect.
