Rolling into Bob Dylan's early days

 Timothee Chalamet does his own singing in A Complete Unknown, director James Mangold's lively look at the years Bob Dylan transformed from a folk music prophet into an electrified and electrifying musician who defied classification.

  Although his voice isn't quite as gritty as Dylan's, Chalamet comes close enough to keep the movie credible, and Mangold, who told Johnny Cash's story in Walk the Line (2005), adds enough rising-star power to make for a captivating entertainment.

  Chalamet and Mangold meet Dylan on his terms or their idea of Dylan's terms. A Complete Unknown isn't an interpretation of Dylan's work or life. It's a cultural chronology that begins in 1961 when Dylan -- formerly Bobby Zimmerman -- arrives in New York City. He was 19.

   Dylan has a mission: He wants to visit folk legend Woody Guthrie (Scoot McNairy) who by then was hospitalized in New Jersey with Huntington's disease. He also catches the eye (and ear) of Pete Seeger, played by Edward Norton in a smartly shaded performance. 

    Seeger recognizes Dylan as more than a wannabe trying to worm his way into an already established milieu. That may have been partly true, but Dylan had the chops and imagination to pay his own way.

    Tagged as an original, Dylan also came to the attention of Joan Baez (Monica Barbaro), an established folks star. Their musical and personal relationship seemed to mean more to her than to him.

     The movie also depicts Dylan's relationship with Sylvia Russo (Elle Fanning), an artist based on Suze Rotolo, a former Dylan girlfriend who passed way in 2011, long after the movie concludes at the fabled Newport Folk Festival in 1965.

    Dylan's shift from folk to rock causes a stir at Newport. Seeger struggles to persuade Dylan to use his star status to keep folk music in the forefront. Johnny Cash (Boyd Holbrook) upholds the opposite view, urging Dylan to follow his gut.

   Norbert Leo Butz plays Alan Lomax, the staunchest of Dylan's opponents, a folk purist who tries to keep Dylan's band off the Newport stage.

   The movie includes 40 songs, many of them Dylan favorites that are fun to revisit, even if they're not sung by Dylan. Whatever you think of Chalamet's singing, it never sounds like he's serving up cheap covers of classic Dylan tunes.

   I suppose it's arguable that Chalamet is impersonating Dylan, but that insults his effort. It's quite a feat, playing an enigmatic genius, imp, poet, and artist.

  The screenplay for A Complete Unknown was written by Mangold and Jay Cocks based on the book Dylan Goes Electric! by Elijah Wald; Dylan fans may know where fact leaves off and fiction begins. In interviews, Wald has called the movie "poetically accurate."

   As it happens, I witnessed Dylan's moment of transition. As a young reporter, I covered a concert Dylan gave at a Syracuse, NY arena then known as the Onondaga War Memorial. During the first half of the concert, Dylan appeared alone on stage and sang the songs that had breathed new life into folk music.

    In the concert's second half, Dylan was joined on stage by the Paul Butterfield Blues Band. Half the crowd cheered; the other half screamed its disapproval, "Bring back the real Bob Dylan," I remember hearing someone yell.

   Dylan pressed on, like, say, a rolling stone.

   I don't know if Bob Dylan, who's now 83, ever has been knowable. Mangold suggests he was ambitious, difficult, and creative, cruel at times, and caring, at other times. If Dylan's career is about anything, it's about resisting definition. 

   Maybe that's why Mangold can't and probably didn't want to offer a definitive portrait. Instead, he highlights touchstones in a career that produced the only songwriter ever to win a Nobel Prize for literature. 

  Mangold, Chalamet, and the rest of the cast bring what could have been a dusty time capsule of a movie to life. That was more than enough for me.

   

'Dial of Destiny:' the fun wears out

 

  Archimedes, one of the most renowned mathematicians of the ancient world, doesn’t usually show up in fantasy-reliant action movies.

 He nonetheless finds his way into Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny, the latest story about the fabled archeological adventurer who made his first screen appearance in Raiders of the Lost Ark way back in (gasp!) 1981. 

  This time, Indy packs his bags with references to the previous movies as well as a search for the fabled Dial of Destiny, a.k.a. the Antikythera mechanism.

  In the movie, the Antikythera is said to be one of Archimedes’s  inventions, a device that, in fictionalized IndyWorld, can locate fissures in time that allow for travel into the past. 

   In a way, the entire movie — with James Mangold taking over directing chores from Steven Spielberg — is like traveling into the past, an action-heavy adventure in which Mangold demonstrates journeyman competence but fails to generate enough of the ingredient that has distinguished the best Indiana Jones’ efforts: fun.

    The movie features appearances by a de-aged Harrison Ford, as well as the well-preserved Ford, who — in his 80s — is still willing to don his fedora and take on physical challenges. 

     Once again Indy battles (who else?) Nazis.

     An add-on: Phoebe Waller-Bridge plays Helena, the daughter of one of Indie’s old archeological cohorts (Toby Jones).

     Part adversary and part ally, Waller-Bridge adds a touch of naughtiness to the proceedings, but not enough to sustain a gleeful, whip-cracking romp. 

    Other names include Antonio Banderas, as a sea captain, and, more importantly, Mads Mikkelsen as Dr. Voller, a Nazi scientist who, after the war, began working in the American space program. 

   The movie kicks off with a speedy train sequence set during World War II and leaps forward to the late 1960s, the period when most of the action takes place.

    Many of the movie’s characters want to find the Dial of Destiny, the movie’s MacGuffin. Indy thinks it belongs in a museum. Voller wants to find both halves of the device and use it for his own evil purposes.

    Note: In these kinds of movies, there always seem to be missing parts that need to be recovered to activate a device’s potential. 

    In this case, Voller has a cockamamy plan to travel back in time, change the course of the war, and mastermind a German victory.

    Of course, there’s plenty of globe-hopping, taking the movie to Morocco and Sicily, among other places. 

    And, yes, there are chases galore, most executed by Mangold and company with the required skill.

     Still, it's difficult not to realize that we’re watching Mangold and his team blend the ingredients into the familiar Indiana Jones recipe, a self-conscious awareness that works against surprise.  

   Yeah, time for another chase. Yeah, time to squirm, this time thanks to a cave full of bugs.

     Ford brings a carload of trademark grumpiness to the role. He remains credible as an aging action hero — albeit one who occasionally creaks.

     The early Indian Jones movies had a celebratory quality that returned us to the days when movies could be approached with naivety and wide-eyed expectation.

     Belonging to a now-faded moment, that feeling is difficult to revive. So it's no surprise that Dial of Destiny can feel a bit stale.

      Designed as the final chapter in the Jones saga, Dial of Destiny  doesn’t generate all of the thrills we expect from a series that arguably already should have been put to rest.

      Sigh deeply and move on.

   

    

An exiting movie about a Le Mans race

Matt Damon and Christian Bale rev up their performances in an entertaining Ford v Ferrari.

As a person who doesn't know much about auto racing, I can't say I approached Ford v Ferrari with any kind of rooting interest. But good movies about specialized areas draw us into their worlds so that we don't mind listening to the characters when they discuss the technical aspects of building a better race car, in this case, Ford's GT 40 MK II.

Besides, we need no instruction to know that driving at speeds exceeding 150 miles per hour, sometimes in the rain, puts life and limb at risk, particularly in a grueling 24-hour race such as Le Mans.

Director James Mangold's movie succeeds, at least in part, because he puts a strong cast behind the story's wheel. Matt Damon portrays Carroll Shelby, a Le Mans winner, who reluctantly retired from racing (health issues) and later was invited by Ford to help develop a car that could win Le Mans, something Ford hadn't been able to do on its own.

Damon's Shelby turns to Ken Miles (Christian Bale), a skilled British driver with a knack for engineering. As it turns out, Miles and Ford are not an ideal fit. Independent and headstrong, Miles has no interest in team play. As a result, Shelby finds himself forced into the role of mediator, trying to placate image-conscious Ford executives while preserving Miles' involvement in the Le Mans project.

Bumps in the road are hit as the movie showcases its various personalities.

Notable among these is the prime mover behind Ford's build-up to the 1966 Le Mans race. Looking as if he's channeling Bale's performance as Dick Cheney in Vice, Tracy Letts creates a Henry Ford II who has little interest in Le Mans until Enzo Ferrari (Remo Girone) humiliates him. Ford approached Ferrari about a merger. Not only does Ferrari snub Ford, but he also belittles the American motor czar.

At the time, Ferrari had become a habitual winner at Le Mans; Ferrari couldn't believe that Ford, which (ugh!) mass-produced cars, could mount worthy competition.

Mangold, (Logan, The Wolverine, 3:10 to Yuma and Walk the Line) knows how to keep a movie moving, which is good because Ford v Ferrari runs for two and a half hours. And, no, I didn't think the movie needed to be that long.

Still, the two main performances are never less than watchable. Damon plays a confident, savvy Texan who specializes in boldness. As Miles, Bales knows when to rev his motor to the right degrees of intensity.

Miles' supportive wife (Caitriona Balfe) never stands in the way of her husband's passions. When Shelby and Miles fight outside of the Miles' home, Mrs. Miles pulls up a lawn chair and watches with amusement. Miles' son Peter (Noah Jupe) follows his dad's races with the kind of admiration an adoring son has for a heroic father.

Mangold makes sure that the race footage hums with excitement. He also sustains backstory tension, keeping just enough off-track focus on the rivalry between Henry Ford II and Enzo Ferrari when the story arrives at Le Mans. Ferrari disdains the American who sometimes allows his marketing guy (Josh Lucas) to gum up the works, as marketing guys are wont to do in movies about men for whom racing isn't a promotional activity but a way of life.

For those unfamiliar with this true-life story, the movie may seem to cross the finish line in a way that's more downbeat than you'd expect, a slight veering from the formula line that Mangold deftly toes.

To its credit, though, Ford v Ferrari seems to know exactly what kind of movie it wants to be; that makes it an entertainment that should deliver for both racing and non-racing fans.

Wolverine's darkest journey yet

Logan admirably argues against unearned comic book kicks.

For reviewers, the threat of overstatement always looms. Safe to say, though, that Logan -- which appears to be the final installment of the Wolverine series -- is one of the darkest comic book movies yet, a plunge into personal crisis for a mutant who has grown weary of clawing his way through endless opposition.

Existential fatigue aside, Hugh Jackman's Wolverine still creates enough gruesome sights to make more squeamish audience members wince. Still, both literally and metaphorically, a depressed and nearly forlorn Wolverine has grown sick of himself and of the world.

I wonder, too, whether this addition to the Marvel Comics' inexhaustible repertoire isn't itself a kind of death wish for the exhausted comic-book genre -- or at least as close as a big-ticket movie can get to one. Inescapable whiffs of mortality and decay outweigh any suggestion that a new generation of mutants will continue the good fight.

Whatever his objectives, director James Mangold (Wolverine, 3:10 to Yuma and Walk the Line) boldly examines the gulf between comic book reality and life. In the world of comic books, superheroes seldom die, and even if they do, they somehow manage to resurrect themselves for the next installment. Not so in world Logan currently inhabits.

Bearded and looking as if he's been given a terminal diagnosis, Jackman introduces us to a Wolverine who's drowning his sorrows in alcohol and who, in the movie's opening, only reluctantly takes on a group of thugs who are vandalizing the limo that he's driving while trying to live out his days on society's frayed edge.

Mangold, who contributed to the screenplay, begins his story in 2029, a time when the fabled X-men have been scattered, their ranks depleted. Despite his best efforts to remain isolated, Wolverine finds himself looking after 11-year-old Laura (Dafne Keen), a girl who has been engineered to battle foes by a shady operation based in Mexico and run by the evil Dr. Zander Rice (Richard E. Grant).

OK, the desire to weaponize mutants isn't exactly fresh, but it's serviceable enough to keep Logan on its grim path.

Laura escaped Mexico in the company of her nurse (Elizabeth Rodriguez), a woman who wants to save the girl from those who would satisfy their lethal ambitions by turning her into a killing machine, a task for which she's been given Wolverine-like, retractable claws.

Laura believes that she can find refuge with other mutants in North Dakota, where she'll other mutants supposedly live. A skeptical Wolverine accompanies on her journey.

Perhaps drawing inspiration from the ever-growing slate of dystopian movies, Mangold creates a shabby world that's not immune from the ravages of aging, punctuating the dark mood with well-conceived action set pieces that don't skimp on vividly displayed brutality. Being clawed by Wolverine does not lead to pretty outcomes.

Wolverine and Laura are joined on their trek by Charles Xavier (Patrick Stewart), who has reached the age of 90 and who suffers from fits that, quite literally, shake the world around him. If he fails to take his medication, Charles convulses, creating tremors that rival a small earthquake.

When Logan's out trying to earn money, an embittered Caliban (Stephen Merchant), a mutant with tracking powers, watches over Charles who's living in a fallen water tower on an abandoned Mexican farm. It's Wolverine's job to supply Charles with the expensive medication that controls his seizures.

Jackman and Stewart play off each other nicely, and Keen more than holds her own as a wild child whose temper never should be aroused.

The movie's conclusion doesn't quite match its buildup, but Jackman and Mangold catch you up in the Logan's forbidding moods, making the movie one of the most gripping Marvel-inspired movies yet.

Searching for his inner warrior

It may not be a classic, but The Wolverine proves solid.

Moving the Wolverine series to Japan seems to have been good for both Wolverine and for his audience. Efficiently titled and unafraid of an occasional quiet moment, The Wolverine turns out to be a worthy addition to the Marvel Comics gallery of big-screen superhero movies.

Hugh Jackman already has demonstrated his talents as a hero with anger management issues, but director James Mangold (Walk the Line and 3:10 to Yuma) proves that he's equally adept at creating a big-screen comic book.

As has been the case with most of this summer's "blockbuster" fare, Wolverine can't be called a total success: You'll find segments that sag and drag, but there's still plenty to pull you into a story about this troubled mutant, a character whose pain isn't only inflicted by enemies but by his own turbulent emotional life.

This time, Wolverine -- a.k.a. Logan -- even wonders whether a mutated life that includes immortality is really all that appealing.

If you're the sort of viewer who thinks that one terrific set piece is enough to put a movie over-the-top, then you'll be amply rewarded by a breathless fight staged atop a speeding bullet train.

The story also benefits from a considerable amount of Tokyo-style exoticism. Can any movie that makes room for stealthy Yakuzas be all bad? And what about the impressive, towering Samurai robot that stomps into the finale?

The movie's screenplay -- a Mark Bomback/Scott Frank adaptation of a 1982 comic book by Chris Claremont and Frank Miller -- places Logan at the center of a battle for control of one Japan's leading corporations. To up the dramatic ante, the screenplay contrives to deprive Wolverine of his super powers, making it increasingly difficult for him to kick the requisite amount of butt. He loses the ability to heal his wounds instantly. He may be headed for death.

Wolverine also is having troubling dreams about his late lover (Famke Janssen), a beautiful presence beckoning him to reunite with her in death.

The story moves Wolverine and his razor-sharp, retractable claws from an isolated life in Alaska to the bustle of Japan, forcing him into situations in which he must rediscover his inner warrior and renew his commitment to it.

At the beginning of the movie, Logan's totally fed up with fighting and in full Greta Garbo mode: He wants to be left alone. He lives a hermitic existence in a cave, venturing out for activities such as standing mournfully in the rain. He gets rained on a lot.

Once in Japan, it doesn't take long for Wolverine to wind up as the protector of beautiful Mariko (Tao Okamoto), the granddaughter of Lord Yashida (Hal Yamanouchi), a tycoon who owes his life to Wolverine. We learn about the relationship between Wolverine and Yashida in the movie's prologue, a compelling sequence set in Nagasaki at the precise moment when the U.S. dropped its second A-bomb.

The story also introduces a red-headed, punkish Japanese woman (Rila Fukushima), a character who becomes a kind of back-up for Wolverine, who needs all the help he can get to protect him from Mariko's sinister father (Hiroyuki Sanada) and a villainous blonde woman called Viper (Svetlana Khodchenkova). Viper is plenty attractive, but kissing her qualifies as a life-threatening mistake.

I wasn't overly impressed by Mangold's use of 3-D, but, in the main, director of photography Ross Emery has made a good-looking movie, taking full advantage of the Japanese settings and, at times, giving the story the feel of a James Bond movie, assuming 007 had hairy mutton chops and a really bad haircut.

Dull spots and all, Wolverine passes muster as one of the more solidly executed of summer's offerings. Thankfully, then, there's no need to sharpen any critical claws.