‘Black Widow’: action, humor, wobbly accents

 

   Black Widow, the eagerly awaited next helping of Marvel mayhem, isn't exactly the kind of movie that redefines a genre or challenges you with unexpected depth.

   But -- you knew a "but" was coming, didn't you? -- the movie uses its Avengers heritage to good effect and, damn, if it doesn't include some agreeable humor, not the winking self-reflexive kind (at least not entirely) but laughs that stem from watching an unsettled family try to define itself.

    Right there, in the middle of a Marvel superhero movie, a kind of twisted family sitcom to go along with a story in which the heroes battle a villain who controls the minds of women.

    Black Widow begins in Ohio, introducing us to what seems like a typical suburban family. There's a catch: When Dad (David Harbour) arrives home, he tells his wife (Rachel Weisz) that they have an hour to leave town with their two young daughters (Ever Anderson and Violet McGraw). The year: 1995.

   Australian director Cate Shortland wastes no time leaping into action, sending a message that whatever else Black Widow will offer, it's not going to skimp on chases, fights, globe-hopping, and a plot that feels as if it might have been gleaned from a James Bond out-basket.

   About that family. After their escape and a quick landing in Cuba, they're separated. The film then leaps ahead 21 years. 

    In these 21st Century scenes, we learn that the family has been torn apart by Dreykov (Ray Winstone), a Russian mega-baddie who has been building an army of automaton warriors by taking over the brains of kidnapped girls trained in a facility known as The Red Room.

   Daughter Natasha (Scarlett Johansson), already an Avenger, is living on her own in trailer with help from a guy (O. T. Fagbenle) who brings her supplies.  She's running from US Secretary of State Thaddeus Ross (William Hurt) — at least I think that’s what’s happening. 

    Because few of us would want to watch a movie about a fugitive living in a trailer in Norway, the movie quickly contrives to put Natasha (a.k.a., The Black Widow) into motion. 

    For those who haven't pressed every Avengers movie into their book of memories, an assurance: I, too, had to read up: The movie takes place at a time when the Avengers have broken up; i.e., in the interim between Captain America: Civil War and Avengers: Infinity War. 

    Johansson has done her Widow bit in other Avengers movies, but keeps things humming in this semi-solo effort. 

   Happily, the movie adds Florence Pugh to the mix. Pugh plays the grown-up version of Natasha's younger sister Yelena,  a Russian-trained assassin who, like Natasha, must decide whether the ties of early years still have meaning.

    Yelena, by the way, has acquired an antidote that can reverse the control Dreykov has over the core of stolen children he has raised to kill, but as is the case with many of these Marvel movies, the plot strikes me as little more than a necessary bother — like wearing a tie to a job interview.

    The movie gives the two women a chance to play sibling rivalry games and also reunites them with their mother and father, both of whom have gone their separate ways, as well.

   This part of the movie affords Harbour an opportunity to do an amusing comic riff on being a superhero. He's the Red Guardian, once a true believer in Soviet myths and now a somewhat paunchy guy who looks nothing short of ridiculous in his superhero outfit.

   One of the movie's major set pieces involves breaking Harbour's Alexi out of a grim Russian prison? Cue the avalanche.

    For her part, Weisz plays things straight as Melina, a wily woman who always seems to know more than she lets on.

   The underlying motivation is simple enough. Natasha and Yelena want to find the Red Room, destroy it, and kill Dreykov, the fiend has ruined the lives of so many young girls.

   Of course, the finale is scaled large.

   The movie's variable Russian accents might be a key to understanding the whole enterprise. They're funny, a bit botched, and not without charm. 

   Even non-Marvelites will get the gist and you don't need to know anything about the Avengers to enjoy the way the movie pokes fun at BlackWidow's trademark pose. 

    Before striking, she looks like an Olympian about to launch in a speed-skating event, fitting for a movie that’s agile enough not to fall through thin ice.

Familiar battlefield in 'Tomorrow War'

Perhaps because of a time-travel gimmick and what seems like an endless barrage of automatic-weapon fire, The Tomorrow War feels very much like yesterday’s movie. Chris Pratt portrays Dan Forester, an Iraq veteran who’s drafted by the US government  to travel into the future to fight alien creatures that are threatening to devour every human on the planet. Forester leaves his wife (Betty Gilpin) and young daughter and “jumps” to the future with a familiar assignment: save humanity. The aliens are of a common sort; i.e., they have tentacles, very sharp teeth, and a vaguely reptilian look. This part of the movie puts Dan in the company of other draftees, notably a scientist played by Sam Richardson and a hard-boiled combat veteran portrayed by Edwin Hodge.  Once transported to the future -- credit under-explained technological breakthroughs -- Forester and his cohorts land in Miami, which has been reduced to rubble. The action eventually shifts to the Dominican Republic where Forester meets Romeo Command (Yvonne Strahovski), a woman who's leading the fight against the aliens. Director Chris McKay piles on the mind-numbing action before taking Forester back to his own time. At this point, Tomorrow War adopts a somewhat lighter tone, adding a bit of humor. After appearing briefly in the first half, a welcome J.K. Simmons, returns as Dan's estranged father. It’s too little Simmons, too late. The screenplay by Zach Dean flirts with issues about fathers and sons and fathers and daughters but the major point seems to be action piled on more action, all revolving around a premise that tramples credibility at nearly every turn. 

The summer that the music spoke

 

     Ahmir Khalib Thompson, better known as Questlove, has taken footage from a series of 1969 concerts in Harlem's Mount Morris Park and turned out a film that does something as well as almost any movie I can think of. Summer of Soul captures the racial climate of the late 1960s and the birth of what someone in the film calls "black consciousness."  

    Although much of the movie consists of concert footage, the movie stands as a testament to optimism, outrage, and the sheer joy that can be found in music.

   What Questlove presents as one continuous concert actually derived from six concerts that were part of the Harlem Cultural Festival, an event that was filmed by Hal Tulchin but which was not seen, perhaps because much of the nation's pop-cultural energy was being absorbed by Woodstock, which took place at the same time.

     The festival was organized by Tony Lawrence, a singer who managed to assemble a killer show.

    Although Summer of Soul qualifies as an invaluable and immensely entertaining helping of music, Questlove has done more than build an R&B showcase. He places the festival in the political context of a volatile summer -- assassinations, fractious social divisions, and opposition to the Vietnam War. He's given voice to a mood as well as to the music.

     That means the film functions on two important levels. First and foremost, Summer of Soul becomes a kind of encyclopedia of soul music that includes performances by Stevie Wonder, Sly and the Family Stone, B.B. King, David Ruffin (once the lead singer of the Temptations), The Chambers Brothers, and  Gladys Knight and the Pips. 

    And then there's Latin soul brother, Ray Barreto, and the African-flavored vibes of Hugh Masekela.

   Questlove also includes a gospel segment featuring The Staples Singers and Mahalia Jackson. Listening to Jackson and Mavis Staples sing Take My Hand Precious Lord is enough to stir the soul of even the most committed non-believer. Throw in the Edward Hawkins Singers (Oh Happy Day) and you've got as much uplift as one person can stand.

    The film builds toward an appearance by Nina Simone, whose stage presence is unmistakably powerful.

   Summer of Soul also includes interviews with people who attended the festival.  One interviewee talks about being smitten by Marilyn McCoo of the 5th Dimension (Aquarius/Let the Sunshine), a group that some folks thought was white.

   I'm sure that I've neglected to mention something that will strike you when you see Summer of Soul, but I don't want to end this review without telling you that the dynamism, cultural heft, and exuberance of Summer of Soul stands as an expression of solidarity, commitment,  and musicianship that qualifies as a feel-good time at the movies.

   Yes, I did say feel-good movie but one with a difference. Summer of Soul refuses to turn its back on the world in which the music sounds its magnificent notes. Summer of Soul chronicles a time when music and its moment became inseparable. 

  

Bob’s Cinema Diary: 6/28/21 — ‘Asia’ and ‘I Carry You With Me’

 Asia 

Alena Yiv and Shira Haas play mother and daughter in the Israeli drama, Asia. Asia, the mother and title character of the movie, is a Russian immigrant to Israel who works as a nurse, carries on an affair with a married doctor, and enjoys a taste of Tel Aviv's nightlife. Her 17-year-old daughter Vika (Haas) deals with major problems: Those related to adolescence (drugs, alcohol, and a burgeoning interest in sex) and a much graver issue: a terminal disease that's crippling her body. Director Ruthy Pribar skillfully handles the film's mother/daughter dynamics with observational poise and a brilliant bit of casting. Yiv and  Haas look enough alike that sometimes you have to remind yourself which character you're watching. This is a good thing because Mom, now 35, had her daughter when she was 18. She's in that precarious position where she has been both friend and parent to Vika. Both actresses give deeply immersive performances that, like the movie, are never showy or sentimental. A minimal plot introduces Gabi (Tamir Mula), a young man who begins work as Vika's home aide. In a misguided attempt at wish fulfillment, Asia encourages Gabi to seduce Vika who hopes not to die a virgin. At times, Pribar moves so slowly, it's as if time is standing still. But Asia puts us into the lives of two characters dealing with an irreversible fate that casts a deep shadow over a story that's not afraid to tackle complex issues and let them play out in ways that prove unsettling and emotionally powerful.

I Carry You With Me

Ivan (Armando Espitia) and Gerardo (Christian Vazquez) meet and fall in love in what might have been an ordinary gay romance. But director Heidi Ewing has more in mind than another love story. Using dramatized footage and documentary scenes involving the real Ivan and Gerardo, she creates a story that dramatizes the painful homophobic bigotry faced by the two men in the town of Puebla, Mexico, in the 1990s. Despite trying to pass as straight, Ivan has developed a strained relationship with the mother of his young son. Flashbacks show us how Gerardo's father brutalized his him, hoping to  terrify the gay out of his son. Eventually, Ivan moves to New York where he's able to pursue his dream of being a chef -- albeit as an illegal immigrant. Gerardo eventually follows. The men can't escape the pain of longing for what they've left behind while living in ways that don't separate them from their identities as gay men. Though not devoid of harsh characterizations, Ewing's portrayal of Mexico is enriched by color and palpable affection for life there. Espitia and Vazquez give fine performances with Espitia registering as the more ebullient of the two. Michelle Rodriguez portrays Sandra, a friend who accompanies Ivan on his trek to the US. Not all the pieces fit together seamlessly (the actors are more interesting than the real Ivan and Gerardo), but Ewing  illuminates a multiplicity of concerns that revolve around love, gender, and cultural dislocation.

A movie that began with Tweets

 

If you're skeptical about a movie developed from a series of furious tweets, you're not alone. I, too, wondered whether anyone could or even should make such a movie. Enter Zola, a slender movie developed from the tweets of A'Ziah King, a woman who  in 2015 found herself caught up in an adventure involving pole dancing, prostitution, and threatened violence.  Zola casts Taylour Paige as Zola, a woman who's talked into accompanying a new friend (Riley Keough) on a road trip. The pitch: They can make some quick money pole dancing by traveling from Detroit to Florida. Once in Florida, it becomes clear that Keough's Stefani has more than dancing in mind. Colman Domingo plays X, Stefani's pimp, a guy who's amiable until he isn't. Stefani is also accompanied by her boyfriend (Nicholas Braun), a clueless young man who seems to have no idea what's going on -- and might not even if someone told him. Tension arises when Zola decides that it's better to be on the marketing end of the sex trade. She has no interest in providing carnal services and doesn't. Director Janicza Bravo doesn't shortchange nudity, sex scenes, and the butt-jiggling wonders of pole dancing without making any of it seem less than tawdry. I've seen Zola referred to as a satire. Whatever it is, you may ask yourself (I did) why keep watching? One reason: Both actresses are totally committed to the movie's odd journey. If there were an Oscar for playing ditzy but conniving women, Keough would be an instant frontrunner. In the end, though, Zola seems little more than a curiosity that answers a question that probably didn't need to be raised: How little source material does it take to make an 82-minute movie?

'F9': A few new wrinkles, many explosions

     It's been a long time since anyone cared whether a Fast and Furious movie made sense.

     Good thing, too, because F9: The Fast Saga -- the latest in the series -- is so unashamedly preposterous that it hardly matters whether the glue holding various segments together has any sticking power.

    Director Justin Lin, a veteran of previous editions, has no compunction about bringing back characters thought dead or trying for an ending of gargantuan silliness. 

     There's so much action and different story lines that even the heavily muscled Dominic Toretto (Vin Diesel) feels like an afterthought.

     About that finale. It involves a rocket-launched Pontiac Fiero and makes good use of Tyrese Gibson and Ludacris, a duo that by this time deserves its own spinoff.

    They're the most enjoyable thing about F9 which makes room for Gibson's Roman to offer a bit of self-conscious but pointed humor. How exactly has the Fast and Furious crew emerged from so much violence with nary a scratch?

    We must not be normal, Roman opines. He's right. The crew -- the one that began in a small movie about street racing -- practically has ascended into superhero heaven. 

    Devotees probably won't mind. No one else need bother because only those who've been caught the Fast and Furious fever  have reason to add to what promises to be a large box-office haul.

   Summarizing the plot is useless. It has something to do with an evil cabal that wants to control the world's weaponry and requires Charlize Theron to return as Cipher. She spends most of the movie in glass enclosure.

    To get this part of the story rolling, F9 introduces Dom's  brother Jakob (John Cena). What? You didn't know Dom had a brother? 

   No matter. The film casts Jakob as the evil sibling. As kids, Dom and Jakob parted ways after their father died in a race-track crash in 1989. As an adult, Jakob has dedicated his life to emerging from Dom's shadow, motivation that seems entirely derived from Dom's exploits in the previous movies.

    F9 adopts a near-Bondian approach to globe hopping, turning up in London, Edinburgh, Tokyo, and a variety of other locations, thereby satisfying the growing global need for car crashes and wanton collateral damage. The car carnage relies on magnets that somehow ... er ... well ... who really cares?

   The movie's formula remains simple: Action set pieces are followed by exposition. If you sometimes feel lost, it hardly matters because, near as I could tell, the quieter scenes do little other than mark time until the next flurry of chases and explosions.

    Did I mention that Dom has a near-death experience after plunging into some deep water? That's the only thing that seems near death in this apparently endless series.

    If you like your explosions served with a side order of coherence, you may want to occupy yourself elsewhere. You also better have a high tolerance for ridiculousness that sometimes seems more nonsensical than amusing.

   Sure, some of the movie clicks, presuming you enjoy action that's more audacious than thrilling. And some will feel affection for the  mainstay characters, many of whom reunite as the story unfolds. 

    Me? I thought the movie's characters generally seemed happier to see one another than I was to see them. 

   

A gangster story that lights few sparks

 

   The movie is named Lansky and had it been a superior biopic about the Jewish gangster known as the "mob's accountant," it might have been something special.

   It's not. More on why later.

   Lansky led a rich and varied crime life. He befriended Benjamin "Bugsy" Siegel, helped found Murder Incorporated, formed various alliances with the Italian mob, and was a pal of Charles "Lucky" Luciano. 

   Lansky's gambling activities extended to pre-Castro Cuba. 

   Lansky wasn't exactly what you'd call a Jewish role model, but he used his gang to break up pro-Nazi German American Bund rallies. He also made a deal with the US government to allow some of his crew to help identify Germans who had infiltrated the New York waterfront.

    In short, an interesting guy and a major name in the annals of American crime. Hyman Roth, the gangster played by Lee Strasberg in The Godfather Part II supposedly was modeled on Lansky.

    Aside from the Hyman Roth part, much of what I've  described can be seen in Lansky, which was written and directed by Eytan Rockaway and stars Harvey Keitel as the aging Lansky, a retiree living in Miami after having been denied  Israeli citizenship.

   According the movie, the FBI believed that the aging Lansky hid $300 million from government scrutiny. They wanted to get their hands on it.

   Enough plot for a movie?

   Yes, but Rockaway employs a shopworn technique to tell his  story. Anxious to secure his legacy, Lansky wants someone to write a book about his life -- as seen by him, of course. 

   Enter a reporter (Sam Worthington) selected by Lansky to write what promises to be a best-selling book with an insider’s slant.

   Lansky's life mingles with the intrigues of a reporter whose marriage is on the rocks. Worthington's David Stone desperately needs money. While working on the book, he as an affair with a beautiful woman (Minka Kelly) he meets at the Miami motel where he's staying.

   David James Elliott portrays FBI agent Frank Rivers, the guy who wants to recover the supposedly hidden funds.

   Rockaway isn't always elegant in the way he mixes the movies' storylines:  Lansky and the reporter meet at a Miami diner, which gives Keitel an opportunity to play a sagacious mobster who knows everything about anyone with whom he does business.

   As Lansky talks, he opens the gate for lengthy flashbacks that highlight the major events in Lansky's life.

    John Magaro portrays Lansky in the flashback scenes which also introduced us to Siegel (David Cade) and Luciano (Shane McRae). 

    I'm no expert on Lansky, but the biographical parts of the story feel  well-researched and there's no faulting the cast. 

     Still, the movie bogs down with its a structure that alternates interviews with flashbacks. And the story about a writer's plight provides little by way of additional freshness or interest.

     Worse yet, Lansky lacks urgency and thematic reach. The Godfather movies might have been a loosely conceived take on the historical realities of mob life, but they had something that Lansky never achieves: characters we care deeply about and larger meanings that pushed beyond the confines of genre.

  

Bob's Cinema Diary: 6/25/21 -- 'Werewolves Within' and 'Kenny Shcarf: When Worlds Collide’

 Werewolves Within

A spoof-like take on werewolf movies, Werewolves Within tips its hand with its title. While  delivering a few jolts, the movie takes satirical aim at the predatory instincts of a group of residents in a small town where an oil company dangles major money to secure land for a pipeline. Director Josh Ruben assembles a strong cast and follows a familiar strategy, isolating his characters in a sleepy inn in the fictional town of Beaverfield. Sam Richardson plays a nice-guy forest ranger who arrives in the town at the film's outset.  Richardson's Finn  forms an immediate alliance with the town's mail person (Milana Vayntrub). She clues him into the secrets of the small population, which includes a married couple, the corporate guy who wants to build the pipeline, and others. An ominous trapper (Glenn Fleshler) lives outside the town and serves as the story’s principal red herring. Could he be the werewolf that's gradually depleting the town's population? More amusing than fall-down funny, Werewolves Within introduces sprinklings of topicality. Richardson's wonderfully sincere performance goes a long way toward keeping the movie on track.

Kenny Scharf: When Worlds Collide

If you're looking for a movie that understands and revives the chaotic feeling of the 1980s art world, Kenny Scharf: When Worlds Collide has plenty to offer. Focusing on Scharf, a graffiti artist who also works in a variety of other media, the movie tells the story of an artist who became known but never acquired the rocket-fueled fame of figures such as Keith Haring or Jean-Michel Basquiat. Directors Max Basch and Malia Scharf (the artist's daughter), tell the story of an era and of an individual whose work is steeped in pop-culture. The movie includes plenty of images of Scharf's work, as well as interviews with critics and fellow artists who help define Scharf’s place in the ever-flowing art stream. The directors include a  touching account of Scharf's loss of close friend and former roommate Haring to AIDS . It wasn't easy for Scharf to watch his friend anointed by an art world that never did as much for him. What finally sticks is Scharf's amazing productivity and his devotion to making art -- on canvas, on billboards, on walls, and on ordinary household objects. He came of age in a world in which trend sometimes outweighed trenchancy. But no matter which way the art winds blew, Scharf kept working and following his own path. He's still at it and still committed to the notion that to be meaningful art needn't be stripped of either playfulness or (heaven forbid) fun.

This football story fails to score

12 Mighty Orphans exemplifies what happens when a sports movie goes stale.  It’s almost as if someone found the movie in a vault and couldn’t quite shake the mold off it. Dreary by Depression-era trappings pervade this story of an underdog high-school Texas football team. The story focuses on a Fort Worth orphanage where many kids were abandoned by economically ravaged parents who no longer could care for them. Based on a true story, the movie shows how an innovative football coach, Luke Wilson's Rusty Russell brought a ragtag team to a high school championship game. The film tries to draw additional poignancy from the fact that Russell himself was an orphan. Every movie set in an orphanage needs an ogre. In this case, Wayne Knight fills the role as a tyrant who's embezzling funds and administering severe beatings to the young men of the Masonic Home for Orphans. The film also needs a kindly doctor, preferably one with a drinking habit: Enter Martin Sheen as Doc Hall. There's also the angry kid (Jake Austin Walker) who must learn to channel his fury onto the football field. Director Ty Roberts includes scenes in which Russell has PTSD-driven flashbacks to his combat days in World War I. The movie also bogs down in dealing with issues involving the orphanage's eligibility to compete at the highest high school level. Treat Williams shows up as a newspaper publisher who becomes a fan of the Mighty Mites. Blink and you'll miss a cameo by Robert Duvall. For all its trying, 12 Mighty Orphans feels as dusty and diminished as the Texas landscape. I'm no judge of Texas accents, so I'll assume the cast hit the right notes, but in the case of 12 Mighty Orphans, hitting the right notes results in a movie that's neither a devastating look at Depression-era suffering nor a rousing football yarn. The movie's not just old-fashioned; it’s just plain old.