A renewed 'Toy Story 5' pleases

 

  Toy Story 5 manages to keep Pixar's animated franchise from slipping into irrelevance, no small feat considering the first Toy Story movie appeared 31 years ago. 

  This edition renews the franchise by expanding the role of cowgirl heroine Jessie (Joan Cusack) and also presenting her with a love interest, Buzz Lightyear (Tim Allen). It’s not too early to think about wedding gifts.

  A comforting story arc again underscores the assertion that beloved toys provide kids with much-needed emotional support. Shy girl Bonnie (Scarlett Spears), a veteran of films three and four, doesn’t know how to make friends, partly because she's stuck in the stage where Jessie remains a big part of her world.

  To make the movie more topical, Pixar's latest pits toys against tablets, old-school playthings vs. electronic devices that dominate kids' attention and encourage solitary play. 

   Directors McKenna Harris and Andrew Stanton, the duo that also wrote the screenplay, argue that toys can become the building blocks of world-creating experiences that kids can share.

   The time,Woody (Tom Hanks) does supporting duty while Greta Lee gives voice to a pivotal new character,  Lilypad, a frog-shaped device that's supposed to open the gateway for Bonnie to become more attuned to present trends. 

    To further up the ante, the screenplay adds a brigade of Buzz Lightyears and a variety of new characters, notably Smarty Pants (Conan O'Brien), a tablet whose name defines him. 

     Now, this being Pixar, don't expect all-out war; it hardly qualifies as a spoiler to tell you that the tech toys eventually learn to play nice with their retro predecessors. Detente looms.

     Before that can happen, the push to bring Bonnie into a new high-tech world forces Jessie again to deal with abandonment issues, another franchise favorite.

     Her first owner ditched her. But Jessie has enough spunk and agency — not to mention the help of a few plot twists — to arrive at the home of Blaze (Mykal-Michelle Harris), a girl who appreciates toys and shares Jessie's love of imagination. 

      Blaze also collects toy horses, a lucky break because the horses gallop into the third act, and Jessie's devoted steed, Bullseye, accompanies her on her adventures. Blaze’s friendship with Bonnie will bring like-minded kids together.

   Much is made of the way toys, even favorites, often wind up in storage as children age. Higher-tech toys fare no better as they hurtle toward their own fast-approaching expiration dates.

    The moral:  Kids change as they grow, and toys of all kinds meet them at just the right moment.

   I'm not sure there's a right moment for more Toy Story sequels, but the aim here might have something to do with hooking a new generation of viewers. This helping of Toy Story feels pitched toward younger audiences. If I were to guess, I'd say 12 might be the upper limit.

    But there's nothing that will pain the adults who accompany kids, and Toy Story 5 earns its place as a surprisingly pleasing addition to the franchise.

     

                                                                                                                                         

    

Eddie Murphy's 'Dolemite is My Name'

There's nothing particularly novel about Dolemite is My Name, Eddie Murphy's unabashed tribute to Rudy Ray Moore, a real-life comedian in the 1970s tried to make a splash with his own version of a Blaxploitation film.

Before his foray into the film world, Moore invented a character called Dolemite, a fast-talker who dressed like a pimp, sported a globe-sized Afro wig, and used a cane as a prop.

In Moore, Murphy finds a character whose "crazy" ambition (Moore financed Dolemite with borrowed money) can't mask the fact that he’s basically a good guy. And Murphy gets laughs in ways that incorporate his fondness for the bygone era that produced such movies as Shaft and Super Fly.

Early on, Moore — who gets the idea for his act by talking to a homeless man with a gift for turning a phrase — works the Chitlin Circuit. He connects with audiences through what might be considered an early version of rap. He's finds his niche.

Craig Brewer (Hustle & Flow) directs as Murphy generously allows his supporting cast to share the limelight. Da'Vine Joy Randolph plays Lady Reed, a woman who Moore helps discover her own comic chops. Wesley Snipes seems to be having a great time as a marginally successful Hollywood type who finds himself directing Moore’s no-budget film.

Keegan Michael-Key portrays the movie's writer, a guy who thinks he has written a socially significant screenplay. Craig Robinson and Mike Epps sign on as part of Moore's crew.

Snoop Dogg does cameo duty as Murphy walks down the pop-cultural memory lane of his youth and also reminds us that there was a time when nothing could validate a show-business career like a movie. Murphy, who hasn't made a movie in a while but whose career needs no validation, holds the screen with ease, even though Dolemite operates mostly at B-movie levels.

Dolemite opens in limited markets Oct. 4 and will be available on Netflix starting Oct. 25. I’m sorry that the movie won't be playing in theaters everywhere because Murphy has made a film that only can benefit from being seen with an audience that's looking for a good time.

A invitation you may want to refuse

If Table 19 were a pilot for a TV sitcom -- which tells you something about the level of the humor in this dismal comedy -- it might not survive 20 minutes of a meeting on whether to the project deserves a green light. Despite the presence of the usually lively Anna Kendrick, director Jeffrey Blitz can't animate a screenplay by Jay and Mark Duplass. Either the director wasn't up to what the Duplass's were trying to achieve (an off-kilter mixture of comedy and seriousness) or the material wasn't up to snuff. Either way, Table 19 winds up falling flat on its face. A wedding comedy about those assigned to the worst table at a reception, Table 19 casts Kendrick as the former best friend of the bride who was banished from maid-of-honor duties when the bride's brother (Wyatt Russell) dumped her. The rest of the table includes June Squibb, whom you'll remember from Nebraska, as a pot-smoking former nanny to the bride. Also on board: Lisa Kudrow and Craig Robinson, as an Ohio couple with marital issues; Tony Revolori (of Grand Budapest Hotel), as a horny teen who's in constant phone touch with his nagging mother; and Walter (Stephen Merchant), a geeky embezzler who's the father-of-the-bride's disgraced nephew. Before service at Table 19, where all the principals are seated, concludes, Blitz has introduced terminal cancer, marital discord, and slapstick involving the wedding cake. The movie opens with Kendrick's distraught Eloise agonizing over whether to attend the wedding or send regrets. I think you know where I stand vis-a-vis accepting an invitation to this anemic affair.

A worthless dip in a hot tub

I don't regard the original Hot Tub Time Machine (2010) as a comedy classic, but I did laugh at some of the movie's gross-out humor and its ridiculous time-travel conceit.

Now comes Hot Tub Time Machine 2, a witless sequel that traffics in blatant sexism and homophobia without creating enough laughs to justify its knee-jerk assault on propriety.

Absent John Cusack from the original, the movie staggers through a time-travel journey made by three characters from the last installment: Nick Webber (Craig Robinson); Jacob (Clark Duke); and Lou (Rob Corddry).

As the massively insensitive Lou, Cordrry dominates the proceedings, but his character's offensiveness quickly proves tiresome.

We're asked to believe that Lou capitalized on the time-travel advantage he gained in the last movie, and became the founder of a high-tech company called Lougle. He's a rich, crude and mean.

Duke's Jacob is Lou's nerdy but rebellious son. Jacob is abused by his father, aside from moments when this ungainly reprise (with director Steve Pink again at the helm) indulges in sickening sentiment.

Robinson's Nick has become a soul singer in the Barry White mode. Robinson comes closer than any of his fellow cast members to doing anything that might be called funny.

This edition's twist: The trio of time travelers winds up in the future rather than in the past.

Transported to the year 2025, the trio meets the son of the character Cusack played in the last installment, a cheerfully sincere fellow portrayed by Adam Scott.

The movie's comic high point involves a TV show called Choosy Doozy, which features a segment in which male participants are forced to have sex with one another.

I neglected to mention an early picture moment when Lou is shot in the groin, and loses his ...

You get the idea, I'm sure. This is one hopeless mess of a movie. How hopeless? Let me put it this way: I got more laughs out of Fifty Shades of Grey.