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!
Fast reviews for busy people! Watch as I review three movies in less time than it takes to do a high five! Have a look as I race against the clock to tell you about the Bob Dylan biopic “A Complete Unknown,” the epic “The Brutalist” and the sports drama “The Fire Inside.”
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: Timothée Chalamet stars as Bob Dylan in “A Complete Unknown,” an intimate portrait of four tumultuous years in the life of the “Blowin’ in the Wind” singer.
CAST: Timothée Chalamet, Edward Norton, Elle Fanning, Monica Barbaro, Boyd Holbrook, Scoot McNairy, Dan Fogler, Norbert Leo Butz, P. J. Byrne, Will Harrison and Eriko Hatsune. Directed by James Mangold who also co-wrote the screenplay with Jay Cocks.
REVIEW: From the surreal “Rocketman,” that turned Elton John’s life into pop art and the self-congratulatory “Bohemian Rhapsody” to the monkey business of the Robbie Williams biopic “Better Man” and Brian Wilson’s introspective “Love & Mercy,” music bios come in all envelope pushing shapes and sizes.
So, it’s a surprise that “A Complete Unknown,” the new film chronicling four years in Bob Dylan’s eventful life, from Greenwich Village newbie to the enigmatic superstar who was booed off the stage at the Newport Folk Festival for playing an electric guitar, is so straightforward.
A story about the man who wrote, “The ghost of electricity howls in the bones of her face,” could reasonably be expected to take some stylistic risks à la “I’m Not There,” Todd Haynes’s metaphoric retelling of the “Like a Rolling Stones” singer’s life.
Instead, “A Complete Unknown” is more “Walk Hard: the Dewey Cox Story” than “I’m Not There” or “Inside Llewyn Davis.” The storytelling is efficiently linear (although not all together factual) without the kind of flourishes that Dylan regularly applies to his songs.
But the back-to-basics approach benefits the movie, allowing Timothée Chalamet’s tour de force performance to shine.
Dylan is one of the most documented people of the twentieth century, a man who has inspired a million nasally impressions, and influenced generations of musicians, and yet remains somewhat unknowable.
As a result, “A Complete Unknown” lives up to its name. When we first meet Dylan, he’s an unknown commodity. Four years later he’s the voice of a generation, the most famous export of the folk scene, but in many ways, he remains an enigma.
Chalamet captures the voice and the physicality of young Dylan but isn’t weighed down by the superstar’s legend. Despite his documented life, Dylan, the man, the myth, the legend, is basically unknowable. He’s a cipher; a dancer to a song only he can hear. Chalamet plays him as a mysterious, sometimes imperious guy and most importantly, gets the essence of what made Dylan the voice of a generation. It’s the It Factor, the Rizz, the elusive quality that is impossible to define, but easy to spot.
Instead of attempting to unwind Dylan’s mystique director James Mangold, who co-wrote the screenplay with Jay Cocks, wisely opts for a portrait of the time, the America and, in microcosm, the Greenwich Village folk era, that produced the singer. The Cuban Missile Crisis and the battle for civil rights indirectly hang heavy over the film, completing the portrait of the time that fuelled Dylan’s early work.
The songs, and there are plenty of them, most performed by Chalamet, are the product of these influences and act as a commentary on that chaotic period.
“A Complete Unknown” may not be revelatory in terms of its biography of Dylan, but it places the singer in context of his times, revealing a rich vein of history, personal and otherwise.
After 2021’s “Dune” was relegated to the small screen in the wake of pandemic related theatre closings, this weekend, the long awaited “Dune Part 2” brings the thunder, debuting on screens suitable for the story’s epic scale. The sci fi saga starring, well, almost everyone, in a sprawling cast headed by Timothée Chalamet, Zendaya and the giant sandworms who are literally and figuratively the film’s biggest stars, will play exclusively in theatres.
Wrestling novelist Frank Herbert’s expansive story of a psychedelic drug called Spice and reluctant messiah Paul Atreides, into a comprehensible movie has confounded filmmakers for decades. Most notably, David Lynch adapted the 1965 novel into a noble 1984 failure. The story is complex, with many characters and big, brainy concepts.
As a result, the spectacle of “Part 2,” on its own, isn’t for casual viewers. The last movie ended with Fremen warrior Chani (Zendaya) saying “This is only the beginning,” which means the new film isn’t a sequel, or a reboot. It’s a continuation, the second part of the story director Denis Villeneuve began in 2021, and to understand the story, you have to see the first film.
Equal parts action packed and philosophical, “Part Two” picks up where “Dune” left off. Set 8,000 years in the future, Atreides (Chalamet) son of an aristocratic family, and once heir to the planet of Arrakis, a desolate, almost inhabitable place, but rich in the lucrative, and psychedelic Spice, that is home to the Indigenous Fremen people.
Betrayed by Baron Vladimir Harkonnen (Stellan Skarsgård), the former steward of Arrakis, the family is all but wiped out, with Atreides and his mother, Lady Jessica (Rebecca Ferguson), left in the desert to die. If they are to survive it will be with the help of the Fremen—including Chani and Stilgar (Javier Bardem), leader of the Fremen tribe at Sietch Tabr—who call Atreides “The Chosen One” and believe he is a prophet with the power to bring peace to their world.
“Part 2” sees Atreides embedded with the Fremin in a mission of revenge against the House Harkonnen, the treacherous Baron, his sinister nephews, the brutish Beast Rabban (Dave Bautista) and Feyd-Rautha (Austin Butler), who Atreides holds responsible for the death of his father. Fighting gallantly alongside the Fremin, he’s mostly unconcerned with their belief that he is their messiah. His feelings for Chanti and his thirst for creating a conflict that will place him within striking distance of Emperor Shaddam IV (Christopher Walken), his daughter Princess Irulan (Florence Pugh), and Bene Gesserit Reverend Mother and the Emperor’s Truthsayer, Mohiam (Charlotte Rampling), are top of mind.
As the reckoning approaches, Atreides is plagued by terrible visions of the future.
There is so much more, but that is essentially the peg on which Villeneuve hangs his epic vision of Herbert’s tale. The director gives voice to the author’s study of vengeance, spirituality, fanaticism, liberation and conquest, articulating the story’s humanist nuances in the framework of a film that can only be described as a spectacle. It’s a bigger, wilder vision, an answer to the stately elegance of the first film.
The action sequences fill the screen. Villeneuve overwhelms the senses with grand images of desert warfare and Atreides sand surfing courtesy of giant “grandfather sand worms.” It’s blockbuster filmmaking writ large, exciting and laced with high stakes. Perfect for IMAX screens.
But the action sequences wouldn’t mean much if the film’s world building and characters didn’t set the stage. Arrakis is a sand swept hell, so immersive you’ll think you have sand in your underpants by the time the end credits roll. The vision of the planet is aided considerably by Greig Fraser’s gorgeous cinematography.
The devil, though, is in the details. On an arid planet, the Fremin syphon water from the bodies of their vanquished enemies to use in their cooling systems. Minutiae like this, and more, give the story depth, creating an exciting world for the characters to inhabit.
The stacked cast of a-listers deliver. Chalamet’s character comes of age on his hero’s journey, shedding any boyish traits Atreides may have had, to become a worm riding warrior and leader of armies.
Also making a mark is Butler as the eyebrow-challenged Feyd-Rautha (the part played by Sting in the Lynch’s adaptation). He maintains the rock star swagger of Elvis, his best-known role, but brings the danger as the sadistic nephew and heir.
It’s good stuff that showcases Villeneuve prowess, even if it feels rushed in its last act.
What Villeneuve isn’t good at, are endings. His first “Dune” film left audiences hanging, finishing up with no definitive ending. The end of “Dune Part 2” doesn’t dangle in quite the same way, but tensions are still unfolding as the end credits roll. Looks like we’ll have a “Part 3” coming in a couple years.
Despite the open-ended conclusion, however, “Dune Part 2,” with its stunning visuals, deep emotional core and good performances, suggests “Part 3” will be worth the wait.
Everyone from Hannibal Lecter and Darth Vader to The Ghostbusters and the Godfather have been given the origin story treatment, so why not Wille Wonka, the mysterious and mischievous chocolatier created by Roald Dahl? That’s the premise of “Wonka,” a new musical now playing in theatres.
Timothée Chalamet plays the title character, the young version of the Wonka seen in 1971s “Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory” and 2005s “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory,” but his sartorial style is already in place. Decked out in a top hat, purple waistcoat and flamboyant scarves, Wonka arrives in town with the dream of opening the greatest chocolate shop the world has ever seen.
“I’ve spent the past seven years travelling the world,” the magician, inventor and chocolate maker announces, “perfecting my craft. You see I’m something of a magician, inventor, and chocolate maker. So quiet up, and listen down. Nope. Scratch that, reverse it.”
His original idea was to make chocolates his mother (Sally Hawkins) would love, and after years of study he learned to concoct delicious, unusual candies. His caramels are salted with the tears of a Russian clown. His cherries come from the Imperial Gardens in Japan and his marshmallows are harvested from the mallow marshes of Peru, and some of them, like the Hoverchoc, have magical, gravity defying side effects.
Trouble is, the city is under the thumb of the Chocolate Cartel, sweet treat tycoons Mr. Prodnose (Matt Lucas), Mr. Fickelgruber (Mathew Baynton) and Mr. Slugworth (Paterson Joseph). They don’t like Wonka or the threats his chocolates pose to their businesses. “He’s good,” snarls Fickelgruber. “Too good.” But they really hate his idea of making affordable chocolate for the working class.
“Send Wonka a message,” says the sinister Slugworth.
Nothing is going Wonka’s way. The local Chief-of-Police (Keegan-Michael Key) threatens to bonk him on the head, the Cartel is out to ruin him, he’s indebted to work house owners Mrs. Scrubbit (Olivia Colman) and Bleacher (Tom Davis) and a small orange Oompa-Loompa (Hugh Grant) accuses him of stealing cocoa beans.
Despite the odds, with the help of an orphan named Noodle (Calah Lane), the optimistic Wonka is certain he can make his dreams come true and make his mother proud.
Directed by “Paddington’s” Paul King, “Wonka” replaces the weirdness of past film adaptations with whimsey. From the fanciful set and costume design to the heightened performances and relentlessly upbeat tone, it is as sweet as any of Wonka’s magical confections. A celebration of the power of dreams, it’s satisfying and delicious, and tonally feels like a companion piece to the others rather than a revisit or a nostalgic look back.
Chalamet’s Wonka has little to do with the reclusive, narcissistic, judgmental character as played by Gene Wilder and Johnny Depp. He is still an eccentric outsider, but in this version he’s also the emotional core. King and co-writer Simon Farnaby flesh out his story, adding in a backstory that includes a strong connection to his mother and huge dollops of earnestness. That light and airy feel is balanced, somewhat, by the addition of nasty capitalists who want to crush Wonka’s dreams for their own benefit. But make no mistake, this is all chocolate and charm.
Chalamet plays Wonka as a charismatic oddball but without the cynicism that colors other portrayals of the character. The “Dune” star replaces cynicism with a delightfully clever naiveté, anchoring the film’s light and breezy tone. His Wonka pays tribute to, but isn’t an impression of Wilder or Depp. It fresh and fun work, with credible singing and dancing, even if the songs aren’t exactly earworms.
In their handful of scenes, Chalamet cedes the screen to Grant. In what is easily his silliest role ever, Grant finds the fun, playing a testy Oompa Loompa on a mission.
“Wonka” is a scrumdiddlyumptious family film for the holidays. A lavish movie, powered by pure imagination, it is life affirming, with a sense of wonder. It doesn’t enthrall in the same, off-the-charts measure that King’s “Paddington” movies do, but really, what other film does?
Usually, it is fairly easy to pigeonhole a movie. Comedy, drama, romance, sci fi, horror, action. Those are the easy ones. It gets slightly more complicated as you branch off into hybrids like dramedy, Menippean satire, docufiction or rom com. Then, along comes a movie like “Bones and All,” a new, queasy genre buster starring Timothée Chalamet, Taylor Russell and Mark Rylance, and now playing in theatres.
Based on the 2015 novel of the same name by Camille DeAngelis, it is something I’ve never seen before, a romcanrofi, ie: a romantic, coming-of-age cannibal road film.
When we first meet Maren (Taylor Russell), she is a seventeen-year-old high schooler, being raised by single father Frank (André Holland). She appears to be a normal teen, sneaking out to a slumber party with schoolmates and the like, but when her taste for human flesh reveals itself, Maren and her dad have to hit the road before the police turn up.
When Maren turns eighteen, her father disappears, tired of hiding her terrible secret. Leaving the teen to fend for herself, he leaves behind some money, her birth certificate and a tape recording describing her life, from her first cannibalistic incident when she was just three-years-old, to providing details about Janelle (Chloë Sevigny), the mother who abandoned Maren when she was an infant.
On a search for answers, Maren hits the road, landing in Ohio, where she meets Sully (Mark Rylance), an older cannibal who says he could smell a fellow “eater” from blocks away. Like Maren, Sully is a drifter, but he’s not looking to answer life’s questions, he’s on the hunt for food. “Life is never dully with Sully,’ he snorts.
Sully teaches her the tricks of the trade, how to pick victims and feed without attracting attention, but something about him makes Maren uncomfortable and she moves on to Indiana where she meets Lee (Chalamet), a fine young cannibal who becomes her partner in life and death.
“Bones and All” isn’t exactly a horror film. The subject matter might be horrifying and there are some stomach-churning sound effects that won’t easily be forgotten, but this is more a coming-of-age love story as Maren adapts to her ever-changing circumstances.
The blood and guts are kept to a minimum, mostly serving as a vehicle for the movie’s metaphor of cannibals as anyone who has ever felt like an outcast. Maren and Lee are the ultimate others, a compulsive couple who aren’t treated as monsters, but as two people living outside of collective norms. Come for the cannibals, stay for the languid, sensitive essay on life on the fringes of society.
Seductive and strange, director Luca Guadagnino anchors the movie with his two leads, Chalamet and Russell. Both are driven to extremes by their appetites, while, at the same time, searching for acceptance and a place to call home. Both actors bring humanity to their characters, concentrating on their personal journeys rather than the monstrous aspects of their personalities. Their performances give the eccentric story a universal feel even if it is a very specific topic.
“Bones and All” has more to do with relationship road movies like “Two-Lane Blacktop” and “Badlands” than it does “Cannibal Holocaust.” It’s a haunting tale, if a little languorous for its own good, that makes a meal out of its allegory.
Movies about giant things hurdling through space toward Earth are almost as plentiful as the stars in the sky. “Armageddon,” “Deep Impact” and “Judgment Day” all pose end-of-the-world scenarios but none have the satirical edge of “Don’t Look Up.” The darkly comedic movie, now in theatres but coming soon to Netflix, paints a grim, on-the-nose picture of how the world responds to a crisis.
Jennifer Lawrence is PhD candidate Dr. Kate Dibiasky, a student astronomer who discovers a comet the size of Mount Everest aimed directly at our planet. Her professor, Dr. Randall Mindy (Leonardo DiCaprio), comes to the alarming conclusion that the comet will collide with Earth in six months and fourteen days in what he calls an “extinction level event.”
They take their concerns to NASA and the White House, but are met with President Janie Orlean’s (Meryl Streep) concerns about optics, costs and the up-coming mid-term elections. “The timing is just disastrous,” she says. “Let’s sit tight and assess.”
With the clock ticking to total destruction Dibiasky and Mindy go public, but their dire warnings on the perky news show “The Rip”—“We keep the bad news light!”—go unheeded. Social media focusses on Dibiasky’s panic, creating memes of her face, while dubbing Mindy the Bedroom Eyed Doomsday Prophet.
As the comet hurdles toward Earth the world becomes divided between those willing to Look Up and do something about the incoming disaster and the deniers who think that scientists “want you to look up because they are looking down their noses at you.”
Chaos breaks out, and the division widens as the comet closes in on its target.
It is not difficult to find parallels between the events in “Don’t Look Up” and recent world occurrences. Director and co-writer Adam McKay explores the reaction to world affairs through a lens of Fake News, clickbait journalism, skepticism of science, political spin and social media gone amok. In fact, the topics McKay hits on don’t really play like satire at all. The social media outrage, bizarro-land decisions made by people in high offices and the influence of tech companies all sound very real world, ripped out of today’s newspapers.
It’s timely, but perhaps too timely. Social satire is important, and popular—“Saturday Night Live” has done it successfully for decades—but “Don’t Look Up,” while brimming with good ideas, often feels like an overkill of familiarity. The comet is fiction, at least I hope it is, but the reaction to it and the on-coming catastrophe feels like something I might see on Twitter just before the lights go down in the theatre.
It feels a little too real to be pure satire. There are laughs throughout, but it’s the serious questions that resonate. When Mindy, on TV having his “Network” moment, rages, “What the hell happened to us? What have we done to ourselves and how do we fix it?” the movie becomes a beacon. The satire is comes easily—let’s face it, the world is full of easy targets—but it’s the asking of hard questions and in the frustration of a world gone mad, when McKay’s point that we’re broken and don’t appreciate the world around us, shines through.
Despite big glitzy Hollywood names above the title and many laugh lines, “Don’t Look Up” isn’t escapism. It’s a serious movie that aims to entertain but really wants to make you think.
Richard joins Jay Michaels and guest host Tamara Cherry of the NewsTalk 1010 afternoon show The Rush for Booze and Reviews! Today we talk about Halloween icon Vincent Price’s favourite cocktails, the eerie “Last Night in Soho” and Wes Anderson’s latest, “The French Dispatch.”
Listen to the whole thing HERE!
