Moviefone Editorial

Category: Reviews

  • ‘Widows’ Review: Director Steve McQueen and Viola Davis Deliver One Hell of a Heist Movie

    ‘Widows’ Review: Director Steve McQueen and Viola Davis Deliver One Hell of a Heist Movie

    Fox Searchlight

    Heist movies are often compelling because of their mechanics — the thrill (and spectacle) of watching crooks dismantle a system, outsmart the law and escape with their lives, and bounty, intact. Steve McQueen’s “Widows” offers a lot of superficial window dressing to make his heist unique — the fact that the would-be perpetrators are the wives of “real” thieves — but what’s compelling, even riveting, about his film is not how they are pulling it off, but why.

    Bolstered by an impressive ensemble including Viola Davis, Michelle Rodriguez, Elizabeth Debicki, Cynthia Erivo, Colin Farrell, Daniel Kaluuya, and Liam Neeson, “Widows” brings to irresistible life the determination, and desperation, of four women struggling to control their own fate within a system built upon, and preoccupied by, its own greed, corruption, and indifference.

    Davis (“Fences”) plays Veronica Rawlins, a Chicago teacher’s union delegate whose life is thrown into disarray after her husband, Harry (Neeson), dies during a botched robbery — one he staged with his colleagues Carlos (Manuel Garcia-Rulfo), Florek (Jon Bernthal), and Coburn (Jimmy Goss). Before she can begin to grieve, local crime boss Jamal Manning (Brian Tyree Henry) contacts her, demanding the money that Harry took, which he hopes will cushion his campaign for South Side alderman against incumbent Jack Mulligan (Farrell). But after retrieving Harry’s notebook, which contains the plans for his failed robbery, Veronica reaches out to the wives of his former partners — Linda (Rodriguez), Alice (Debicki), and Amanda (Carrie Coon) — enlisting them to complete the job and pay off Jamal.

    Twentieth Century Fox.

    Though initially reluctant to participate, Linda and Alice quickly discover an aptitude for the kind of reconnaissance and deception needed to mount a robbery, while Veronica canvasses Mulligan, a friend of Harry’s, for help. But even as everything finally seems to come together— hiring Belle, a resourceful babysitter, as driver after Veronica’s trusted chauffeur, Bash (Garret Dillahunt), suffers an attack at the hands of Jamal’s cold-blooded brother Jatemme (Kaluuya) — the details of the heist, and the motives of the players involved, force them to confront new and uncomfortable elements of their individual pasts. They do so even as time rapidly approaches to launch a desperate plan intended to protect their collective futures.

    Adapted with Gillian Flynn (“Gone Girl”) from a British miniseries of the same name, McQueen condenses what was originally six hours of BBC television into a very dense 129 minutes, though you’re unlikely to feel that there’s anything missing. They not only conjure extraordinarily vivid portraits of all of the characters involved — women and men, bad and good — but provide a rich and detailed world that gave birth to or shaped their identities. Set in Chicago against the backdrop of one of its poverty-stricken boroughs, there’s automatically a divide between the haves and have-nots, but McQueen turns that dialectic into a pathology, and a commentary on the dynamic that continues to metastasize in contemporary American society.

    Veronica lives comfortably in an apartment provided by Harry’s extracurricular exploits. But, after his death, she is left with nothing; none of it is in her name, and she is immediately reminded of her powerlessness by Jamal, who dreams of finding a legitimate role in his community but backslides into the criminality that made it financially possible for him to aspire to something greater. The always beautiful and obedient Linda was raised in an atmosphere of domestic violence, but soon discovers that there’s power in people underestimating her. And Belle, literally running from one job to the next, stumbles across the moneymaking opportunity of a lifetime — the one for which she’s inadvertently been preparing her whole adult life.

    Davis brings polished, flinty resolve to Veronica’s plight, concealing her grief behind immaculate presentation of her clothes and lifestyle to the world, not to mention a fluffy little dog that accompanies her everywhere. McQueen lets her be sexy, vulnerable, tough and unlikeable, often simultaneously, and you can feel Davis’ already-sophisticated faculties as an actress flexing with a freedom she hasn’t experienced before.

    20th Century Fox

    Debicki seems to deliver one “star-making” performance after another, but here she transforms in a really profound way that isn’t merely a byproduct of playing a women who chooses not to be a victim. She literally towers over her co-stars (she’s 6’3”), but she carries a feverish, improvisational energy and commands the screen with utter believability. Erivo is another standout as Belle, tougher and more fearless than any of the women to whom she’s meant to prove herself.

    But Kaluuya creates a singular sort of menace felt even when he’s not on screen as Jatemme, a person indoctrinated to not feel and not care about anything except his own needs and goals — and his brother’s. He is willing to stop at nothing, and do anything, to accomplish them.

    McQueen’s movies have long since explored the deeper roots of what makes us work — and not work — as a society, which may be why the film’s central robbery feels like sleight of hand. By the time it goes down, we care more about the characters at the center of this story and how they will survive than whether the machinery of their plans comes easily together. Working with longtime cinematographer Sean Bobbitt, McQueen delivers the visceral thrills of criminality, but always injects them with the greater cultural and emotional dimensions of people in a world where it feels necessary, or justified.

    Ultimately, McQueen’s latest certainly joins the ranks of films like “Heat” and “The Usual Suspects” in terms of its intelligence, intensity and complexity, but its goals are different than most heist movies, as is its success. As the best entries in the subgenre tend to build to some sort of climactic showdown and a quick getaway, “Widows” lingers in the messy, relatable humanity of the perpetrators, it cares why they are committing their crimes, and it examines what it means — not just financially, but emotionally — if they succeed.

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  • ‘Boy Erased’ Review: Joel Edgerton Delivers Some of the Best Performances You’ll See This Year

    ‘Boy Erased’ Review: Joel Edgerton Delivers Some of the Best Performances You’ll See This Year

    Focus

    “Quietly exasperating” is the only note I took during “Boy Erased,” but it encapsulates much about what makes Joel Edgerton’s latest film such a unique and unexpected emotional journey.

    Extraordinary, nuanced performances from Nicole Kidman, Russell Crowe, Edgerton, and especially Lucas Hedges elevates this potential issue-movie melodrama to something much more broadly relevant, humanistic, and — most of all — hopeful. It chronicles the good intentions and terrible impact of gay conversion therapy as filtered through the experiences of one young man coming to terms with his sexuality.

    Hedges plays Jared Eamons, the son of Baptist pastor Marshall, who agrees to go to gay conversion therapy after an incident at college outs him to his parents and the elders at his father’s church. His mother, Nancy (Kidman), is eager to see her son get the help that she and Marshall believe he needs, but is quickly skeptical of the program’s bona fides — especially after Jared is asked by head therapist Victor Sykes (Edgerton) to catalogue their family’s individual transgressions. He’s also asked to keep his requests for such information secret from family or friends.

    As time passes and Jared begins to see its effect on his fellow participants, he becomes doubtful of the efficacy of the program, worrying that it is only clarifying and reinforcing the feelings that it is intended to eliminate. But as Jared becomes increasingly certain that his same-sex attractions cannot be drummed out by abusive harangues from Sykes and his staff, he simultaneously worries about the effect that coming to accept himself and his sexuality will have on his relationships with Nancy and especially Marshall, who struggle with the religious doctrine that continues to keep them at arm’s length.

    What may come as the biggest surprise in Edgerton’s adaptation of Garrard Conley’s 2016 memoir of the same name is how understated so much of it is. Those expecting a depiction of conversion therapy as a brutal physical gauntlet for participants, or even one where they’re subjected to unrelenting verbal abuse, will discover that the process is considerably more nuanced, if no less deeply hurtful. Primarily, that’s because Edgerton — pulling triple duties as actor, screenwriter, and director — recognizes that many of the individuals who pilot such programs do have good intentions; they’re eager to help young, confused people work through feelings that run counter to God’s teachings. But the program also requires few histrionics to underscore how disruptive — and indeed, devastating — it can be to a person trying to accept themselves for who they are, much less one in Jared’s case where the exposure of his “sin” was unwitting, and unwanted.

    Focus Features

    Hedges does an exceptional job navigating this fine line between dutiful son and self-actualized young adult. Jared loves his parents, and he attends the program as much because of his internal fealty to his own faith and upbringing as his sense of loyalty or obedience to Marshall and Nancy. It makes the central quandary of his attendance less about when he will finally recognize how destructive the program is, and more when he will finally accept himself for who he is and throw off the expectations and judgments of the adults who purport to control his emotional growth.

    At the same time, the film doesn’t hold back on depicting the harm done by such programs, and showcases how their strict sense of privacy insulates them from too much scrutiny by the families of participants, but ultimately reinforces a cycle of secrecy and denial that seems destined to be implosive for young people fighting their own natural, healthy urges.

    Crowe delivers a beautifully understated performance as Marshall, a father who loves deeply but cannot countenance his son’s sin — meaning, he cannot understand it, and cannot confront it in even the most minuscule of ways. Kidman, meanwhile, provides a wonderfully transformative turn as Jared’s mother, a Southern woman who respects the authority of her husband until it is too late, and then can’t go back again — especially if it comes at the cost of her son’s well-being. Their journeys run parallel to Jared’s, but the film sensitively portrays their own moments of discovery and enlightenment, just as it allows him — when he is ready — to express his own identity, not in a moment of anger or resentment, but confidence and clarity that, as parents he loves and wants in his life, they had better respect.

    Maybe it seems unusual to suggest that a movie about such dire subject matter could be hopeful, but Edgerton accomplishes that feat with intelligence and tenderness. (The punctuation of end title cards revealing, in some cases, the hypocritical fates of conversion therapists offers enough of a rejoinder to conversion programs that a more theatrical comeuppance isn’t necessary.) Ultimately, “Boy Erased” is not just the story of a young man whose life comes into focus at the exact moment that his identity threatens to be eliminated, but a cautionary (if optimistic) tale about families — communities — that rely on rhetoric rather than love, and intentions they believe are good instead of the actions they know are right.

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  • ‘Mid90s’ Review: Jonah Hill’s Directorial Debut Is More Than Just Nostalgia Porn

    ‘Mid90s’ Review: Jonah Hill’s Directorial Debut Is More Than Just Nostalgia Porn

    A24

    A movie so committed to accurately portraying the lifestyle and community that it depicts that you wouldn’t be surprised if the crew wore Airwalks and skinned their knees in solidarity with the cast, “Mid90s” oozes not just with period accuracy, but authenticity.

    Jonah Hill wrote and directed this portrait, and tribute, to skateboarders of a certain age and the families they worried (and perhaps exasperated), and he pours everything into getting that cultural moment correct. But what resonates most in this coming of age story is not the “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” bed sheets, or the Golden Era hip-hop songs punctuating each attempted ollie, but the uncomfortable — and inescapably powerful — truth that bad-influence kids you fall in with can sometimes do as much good in your formative years as harm.

    Sunny Suljic (“The Killing of a Sacred Deer”) plays Stevie, a quiet, curious 13-year-old punching bag to his younger brother Ian (Lucas Hedges) who is, by virtue of his age and innocence, the favorite of their mother, Dabney (Katherine Waterston). Negotiating a trade for Ian’s skateboard, Stevie starts visiting a nearby skate shop where he befriends Ruben (Gio Galicia), and quickly enough, Ruben’s buddies, led by Ray (Na-kel Smith), a promising skater who is attracting the attention of local pros. Charmed by his accommodating demeanor and willingness to follow them anywhere, no matter how dangerous, they soon indoctrinate him into their world, much to the chagrin of Dabney — especially after he gets a concussion after falling off a roof.

    But as Stevie battles with his mom over spending time with his new friends, divisions between him and Ruben, and Ray and another member of the group, F**ks**t (Olan Prenatt), threaten to dissolve these newly forged friendships and eject the 13-year-old from a community — and an adult world — that he’s just barely discovered.

    A24

    Chronologically, I’m a few years ahead of the kids in this movie in terms of their entry into the world of skateboarding, but Hill’s film nevertheless feels like one of the most faithful portraits of that culture and that time period that isn’t a documentary, or an actual skate video from the era. It’s not just the baggy pants and “Beavis and Butthead” T-shirts, but the way that kids had a different kind of freedom than they seem to now; parents were a little less controlling, or maybe just less worried, when their children didn’t show up on time, or started exploring a new trend or hobby with which they were not familiar. Certainly, the fact that Dabney is a single mother offers Stevie and Ian a wider berth, but even late in the movie, after she’s embarrassed him in front of his friends, an argument seems to erupt mostly because she has waited too long to impose some boundaries on his extra academic activities.

    Meanwhile, the skating in the movie feels suitably carefree, and on occasion, delightfully irresponsible, the byproduct of authority figures in Southern California (and everywhere, trust me) trying to regain control of a sport that exploded in popularity at the expense of park fixtures and concrete landscapes across the country. It also feels wonderfully visceral, the perfect encapsulation if sometimes dangerous outlet for teenagers to test the boundaries of what they can or should do with their bodies, especially with Stevie as the audience’s stand-in. No matter what happens to him, Stevie seems so small and vulnerable in comparison to the more physically mature teens he rides with, and it turns their adventures (and injuries) into moments of understated but palpable drama.

    But perhaps most important is the way the movie showcases how important, even vital, “bad” kids can be to “good” ones in their adolescence, and often, as their legitimate friends. In spite of the film’s indulgence in a variety of politically incorrect observations and insults — “retard” is thrown around liberally by these immature dunderheads — Ray offers a strong counterpoint to Stevie’s spongelike absorption of everything he sees and thinks is right.

    He further reminds Stevie that even in their own group, there are kids who are dirt poor; each of them has experienced depressing setbacks and losses. Most of all, he recognizes the influence that the older kids have on the younger ones, even if they’re not always careful enough with how they wield it.

    Hill, who’s clearly paid attention to filmmakers like Judd Apatow, Bennett Miller, and Martin Scorsese, has proven himself an eminently capable director in his own right, as astute in his character observations as his combinations of image and sound. His loving attitudes about hip-hop luminaries The Pharcyde and Tribe Called Quest, not to mention Nirvana and Herbie Hancock, dovetail into his clear affection for, and understanding of, the perspectives of all of these characters he’s so vividly created.

    Ultimately, “Mid90s” is such a specific slice of life that it’s maybe understandable that it won’t resonate with everyone. Viewers who were drawn to skate culture during its proto-“extreme sports” heyday, or just struggled to find their niche as they moved through adolescence — choosing friends whose importance outweighed their negative influence — may identify with, and find an unexpected authenticity (an emotional one) in the recognizable click-clack of its streetwise rhythms.

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  • ‘First Man’ Review: Ryan Gosling’s Latest Oscar Contender Is a Ride Worth Taking

    ‘First Man’ Review: Ryan Gosling’s Latest Oscar Contender Is a Ride Worth Taking

    There have been many movies about the space race, from “The Right Stuff” to “Apollo 13,” but none have felt as visceral, and intimate, as “First Man.”

    Director Damien Chazelle puts audiences inside each capsule, and eventually (spoiler alert) on the face of the moon like no one has done before, and it is a ride worth taking — and not just because you’re sitting next to Ryan Gosling. Rather, it’s because Chazelle’s follow-up to “La La Land” is, like its predecessors, more than the sum of its parts — in this case, the film is a celebration of the ambition and unity of mankind built on a foundation of individual sacrifice, and in recovery from unimaginable loss.

    Gosling plays real-life astronaut Neil Armstrong, a pilot who, in screenwriter Josh Singer’s retelling, turned to the space program as an escape after the loss of his daughter, Karen, to a brain tumor. Joining a team of the best pilots and engineers in the country — including Elliot See (Patrick Fugit, “Gone Girl”), Ed White (Jason Clarke), David Scott (Christopher Abbott), and Buzz Aldrin (Corey Stoll) — Armstrong embarks on a long journey to prepare himself for the scientific and physical challenges of space travel.

    Meanwhile, Armstrong’s wife, Janet (Claire Foy), tends to their two boys while confronting the ongoing prospect of losing her husband in the same way some of her fellow housewives have. Sadly, she is unable to talk directly with Neil about that possibility.

    Despite a life-threatening malfunction during Gemini 8, Neil’s first mission into space is considered a success, and NASA makes plans to initiate a new program to land men on the Moon. But after a routine test during Apollo 1 ends in the tragic loss of life for three of his colleagues, Armstrong finds himself in a unique position as he’s exhilarated to be chosen for the mission, but confronted ever more vividly with the mortal dangers of this monumental voyage.

    Particularly in the wake of those previous films that have covered these events, you’d be forgiven for entering “First Man” expecting a seemingly never-ending series of flat top haircuts, hand-wringing housewives, Walter Cronkite cutaways, and some great space footage. And, to be fair, there is some of that, albeit in more of an effort to set a tone than luxuriate in period detail. But Chazelle’s camera peers mercilessly at his characters, in particular Gosling’s Armstrong, who we see break down after his daughter’s death, but who seems to vow never to succumb to that vulnerability again, no matter how many of his colleagues and friends he may lose.

    This is a movie about risk, and especially loss, and the filmmaker never lets the mechanics of space flight — no matter how detailed or tedious — overshadow the feelings of the men who made the incremental, precarious progress that eventually took us to the stars, nor the family and friends who watched them, excited and concerned, from the ground.

    To call this an all-star cast is an understatement, but it feels like the material, and the era in which it’s set, obliterates the sort of star-wattage flashiness that might otherwise make this a revolving door of famous faces. Gosling is the film’s anchor; he makes Armstrong’s real-life reticence feel palpable — both when he’s flipping switches and solving problems inside a Gemini capsule and when he’s coming to terms with another program setback that cost him a colleague he’s spent years beside.

    Stoll gives Buzz Aldrin a delightfully clumsy sort of honesty that registers as perhaps the most charismatic performance of the astronauts, but it’s a necessary juxtaposition next to the compassionate resolve of Clarke’s Ed White, or the reluctant diplomacy of Kyle Chandler’s Deke Slayton, a former astronaut juggling the practicalities of each mission, the expectations and ambitions of his successors, and the anxieties of the families they leave behind.

    Chazelle really is such an invigorating talent, not just because of his own ambition in tackling material like this, but in his restraint in executing it; he explores this history soberly, and allows theatrical flourishes only occasionally, and to great effect — such as when the claustrophobic capsule opens to the panoramic IMAX frame of the lunar surface.

    What he recognizes is that these events changed the way that we look at our world, but they are seldom viewed as an iterative process, and more specifically, one in which triumph occurred in immediate relief with tragedy, and vice versa. What is ultimately most impressive is how a filmmaker could take an achievement so big and make it seem so relatable and small.

    “First Man” certainly makes you understand, and experience, each step forward in the Space Race, but the reason it resonates so strongly is because it’s really about the lengths a person will go to get as far as possible from their pain.

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  • ‘Halloween’ Review: Horror Movies Don’t Get Much Better (or Scarier) Than This

    ‘Halloween’ Review: Horror Movies Don’t Get Much Better (or Scarier) Than This

    Universal

    Nostalgia, a friend once told me, is paralysis. But moviegoers live in the era of the “legacyquel,” when filmmakers pay tribute to the franchises that inspired them by revisiting (and in some cases resurrecting) the core elements that drove their success.

    After eight convoluted (and contradictory) installments in the “Halloween” series, a remake and its follow-up, director David Gordon Green has not only pulled off the unique feat of making a direct sequel to John Carpenter’s original, but in making that sense of legacy its thematic cornerstone.

    In a film stuffed with callbacks for franchise fans both hardcore and casual, including a fiercely committed performance by Jamie Lee Curtis as would-be victim-turned-monster hunter Laurie Strode, “Halloween” achieves a skillful balance between dutiful homage and straightforward horror — while somehow holding a thoughtful conversation about the dangers of paying too much attention to the past.

    Forty years after the “Babysitter Murders” in Haddonfield, Illinois, Michael Myers (Nick Castle) has sat, silent and secluded, in an institution for the criminally insane. By contemporary standards, Michael’s murders of just a handful of people is a regional, relatively minor crime. But it’s a defining event in the life of Laurie Strode, who has spent the intervening decades preparing for what she believes is Michael’s inevitable return. She has done so at the cost of two marriages, her possible sanity, and the custody of her daughter Karen (Judy Greer), now married with a daughter of her own, Allyson (Andi Matichak). Laurie’s fears, and long-held plans to exact revenge, are rekindled when a transport carrying Michael to a maximum-security prison crashes and he escapes.

    As Halloween festivities begin, Michael quickly carves a new path of destruction across Haddonfield, while Laurie demands that Karen and her family stay with her in the forest stronghold she has spent decades building in anticipation for this very eventuality. But even as police officer Frank Hawkins (Will Patton), who was on the scene for the original 1978 murders, desperately patrols the streets with Michael’s psychiatrist, Dr. Ranbir Sartain (Haluk Bilginer), circumstances conspire to bring together Michael and Laurie in a violent, no-holds-barred confrontation forty years in the making.

    Universal

    Those well-acquainted with the original “Halloween” will enjoy not just this film’s references to its predecessor, both visual and narrative, but the throughline it creates with the two main characters — Michael Myers, restored to his terrifying, implacable origins, and Laurie Strode, resilient and hardened after decades of post-traumatic stress. A big part of the reason that the original film worked — other than its largely unprecedented status as a slasher film before the genre was coined — was that it established important details but didn’t try to explain too much, least of all what made Michael tick. Green, along with his co-writers Danny McBride and Jeff Fradley, reveal what has transpired during the intervening years but ignore — and even make fun of — the prospect of “understanding” him any better now as he continues his murderous spree. That his monolithic evil doubles as a metaphor for unresolved trauma only deepens his relationship with Laurie, whether the two are actually fighting face-to-face or as the bogeyman she is convinced exists but the rest of the world regards with disbelief — or worse, indifference.

    Unlike, say, “Halloween” remake director Rob Zombie, whose hillbilly aesthetic colors everything in his films (whether or not it’s appropriate), Green consistently and seamlessly adapts his style to the demands of the material.  His reverence for Carpenter, both as writer and director, is palpable but unobtrusive, enhancing scenes with flourishes that closely resemble the elegant polish of Carpenter’s original. But the film’s underlying contention is that there is an inherent danger in fetishizing the past — certainly built into Laurie’s self-destructive pursuit of vengeance — but also in the concentric circles of Dr. Sartain, consumed with curiosity about what goes on in Michael’s head.

    It’s also there in regard to the investigative reporters who commemorate the anniversary of Michael’s killing spree by poring over the minutiae of the lives wrecked or ended in its wake. It’s a difficult task to try and live up to an iconic film like “Halloween” without purely aping its choices, but Green, McBride, and Fradley manage to pull it off — effectively enough, anyway, for this to feel fresh and exciting.

    Of course, if your experience with Michael Myers amounts to little more than “he was a guy with a mask who murdered people,” this sequel provides more set up than you’ll possibly need, and still exerts an impact; it’s probably the best flat-out slasher film in decades, certainly of those released by a major studio. Led by Curtis, who swaddles herself in Strode’s worldview like a warm, ever-constricting blanket, the performances are uniformly excellent. Every characterization oozes an awareness of what tropes cannot quite work now in the way they worked back then — certainly with regard to victimization, both literal and thematic — even as it acknowledges that, well, there have to be victims when there’s a masked murderer. There’s something profound and thrilling about Laurie being the throat-clearing, final “Final Girl,” a characterization that doubles as a gauntlet thrown down for the genre as a whole to reflect upon itself, and do better going forward.

    Ultimately, “Halloween” does quite beautiful justice to the legacy of its characters — and to the franchise — because it allows audiences to live in that past, but crucially encourages them to focus on the future.

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  • ‘Venom’ Review: It’s the ‘WTF’ of Comic Book Movies

    ‘Venom’ Review: It’s the ‘WTF’ of Comic Book Movies

    Sony

    If, for some reason, you miss the superhero adaptations of the 1990s and early 2000s, “Venom” might be right for you.

    It feels like a movie that is largely unaware of the progress that has been made to tell stories that are both authentic to their source material and sophisticated enough for audiences unfamiliar with that material to experience them in a real way. That it stars Tom Hardy and Michelle Williams, two of the most gifted and consistently interesting actors in Hollywood, makes it an additional curio, but one assumes that the second or third homes they purchased with their paychecks was worth the experience of making this misguided, gobsmacking mess.

    Hardy plays Eddie Brock, a San Francisco investigative journalist who scuttles his job and his relationship after ambushing Carlton Drake (Riz Ahmed, “Rogue One: A Star Wars Story”) with confidential information stolen from his fiancée, attorney Anne (Williams), during what was supposed to be a puff piece interview with the billionaire industrialist. Six months later, a broke and alone Eddie has abandoned reporting for the solace of the bottom of a bottle, but when Life Foundation scientist Dr. Dora Skirth (Jenny Slate) contacts him with evidence that Drake is testing alien biology on poor and homeless subjects — merging them with “symbiotes” — he reluctantly agrees to see for himself.

    During his visit to the Life Foundation, Eddie is infected with a symbiote of his own, a creature called Venom. It bestows him with incredible powers, but as he soon learns, Venom expects to use Eddie’s body for its own destructive purposes. As Life Foundation foot soldiers come to retrieve the escaped alien, Eddie and Venom forge a tenuous bond via an ongoing internal dialogue, even if — outwardly — it seems like the poor human is certifiably crazy. But each is forced to decide what side they are on, and what is worth fighting for, when the duo discovers that another symbiote, Riot, has bonded with Drake and intends to turn Earth into a host planet for his species to consume.

    Sony

    One of the reasons that Hardy took the role of Eddie Brock/ Venom was reportedly because his son was a big fan of the character, but notwithstanding the anecdotal charm of that decision, it doesn’t seem enough for an actor of his caliber, and certainly given the bizarrely uneven effort he puts into his performance. Indeed, it’s hard not to evaluate the film in light of many comments from many of the people who made it — especially director Ruben Fleischer, who vacillated between saying the film was always going to be R- and PG-13-rated, and hedged in recent interviews about how deliberately funny it’s supposed to be — since the end result is stupefyingly incomprehensible.

    I mean, Hardy is the literal face of this anti-hero origin story, but its failure is not his fault; that the film (and his character’s journey) intermittently resembles “Teen Wolf” and “Liar Liar” (complete with Hardy channeling Carrey’s manic energy) explicitly feels like the byproduct of the worst sort of committee thinking.

    That said, if by chance one developed a misbegotten affection for the Andrew Garfield-Marc Webb “Amazing Spider-Man” movies (which, like this, it’s no coincidence that Sony produced largely independently of Marvel), then you might actually like “Venom.” It feels as if the studio executives saw the reactions to those films and tried to just maximize superhero CGI stuff in this, eliminating anything resembling mythology or character development. It’s kind of astonishing how bad both Hardy and Williams (and Ahmed, for that matter) are in this movie, but Eddie and Anne are barely one-dimensional characters with almost nothing of substance to do. The script, by Jeff Pinkner, Scott Rosenberg, and Kelly Marcel, is painfully anemic whenever it isn’t serving as a delivery system for symbiote-driven CGI, leaving the actors to improvise and react to developments and events that never bother to be tethered to reality, much less basic logic.

    Even as a person who read comics during the character’s heyday, Fleischer’s film leaves a lot of lingering questions, but in retrospect, they seem unimportant in the grand scheme of whatever cinematic universe Sony is trying to create. (That I can remember just a few of them feels like one of the few victories of this noisy, ugly, disjointed movie.) In which case it’s hard to decide whether you want this movie to fail or succeed; if it follows in the footsteps of the Webb “Spider-Man” movies and “fails,” for example, perhaps Sony will hand the reins back over to Marvel to do with this character what they did with “Homecoming.”

    But if it succeeds, the Spider-Verse may finally get its own “Batman and Robin,” and I suppose that even after hating “Venom” from start to finish, I would be curious what that might look like.

  • Disney’s ‘The Rocketeer’ Actually Gets ’30s Nostalgia Right: Podcast

    We finally pinpointed the beginning of the “curmudgeonly Alan Arkin” era.

    This week, the “Second Run” crew and special guest Drew Taylor tackled 1991’s superhero movie “The Rocketeer” starring Billy Campbell, Jennifer Connelly, Alan Arkin, and Timothy Dalton. Topics discussed include depictions of Howard Hughes in cinema, the movie’s remaining footprint (or in one case “jetpack blast print”) on current Disney properties, and an epic third act that rivals anything in “Indiana Jones” or “James Bond”

    Up next is Rachel’s pick, 2001’s musical comedy quagmire “Josie and the Pussycats,” starring Rachael Leigh Cook, Tara Reid, and Rosario Dawson.

    Listen to Second Run: A Movie Lover’s Podcast Episode 29: ‘The Rocketeer’ (1991)Total runtime: 45:05

    Subscribe to the “Second Run” podcast:

    Have thoughts/feelings/feedback about the podcast? Have a movie you really, really want us to watch and talk about? Hit us up on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram with the hashtag #SECONDRUN.

    Second Run: A Movie Lover’s Podcast by Moviefone celebrates Hollywood’s guiltiest pleasures by taking a fresh look at critically ignored movies and giving them a second chance at life. Join Moviefone editors Phil Pirrello, Rachel Horner, and Tony Maccio as they extol the virtues and expose the failings (with love!) of our most nostalgic movies.

  • ‘Drop Dead Gorgeous’ Is Worth Watching for One Performance: Podcast

    Drop Dead GorgeousWho knew the Minnesota beauty pageant circuit could be so deadly?

    This week, the “Second Run” squad set their sights on the very dark 1999 mockumentary “Drop Dead Gorgeous,” which boasts an all-star cast that includes Kirstie Alley, Ellen Barkin, Denise Richards, Alison Janney, Kirsten Dunst, and … wait for it … Amy Adams. Topics discussed include how amazing Alison Janney is (seriously, it’s worth watching just to see her steal the entire movie), the insulting/condescending nature of small-town comedy, and all of the racist jokes that just wouldn’t fly in 2017.

    Tune in next time, when we explore the magic and majesty of Tony’s pick, 1991’s “The Rocketeer,” starring Billy Campbell, Jennifer Connelly, and Timothy Dalton.

    Listen to Second Run: A Movie Lover’s Podcast Episode 28: ‘Drop Dead Gorgeous’ (1999)Total runtime: 45:12

    Subscribe to the “Second Run” podcast:

    Have thoughts/feelings/feedback about the podcast? Have a movie you really, really want us to watch and talk about? Hit us up on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram with the hashtag #SECONDRUN.

    Second Run: A Movie Lover’s Podcast by Moviefone celebrates Hollywood’s guiltiest pleasures by taking a fresh look at critically ignored movies and giving them a second chance at life. Join Moviefone editors Tim Hayne, Rachel Horner, Phil Pirrello, and Tony Maccio as they extol the virtues and expose the failings (with love!) of our most nostalgic movies.

  • 1993’s ‘Cliffhanger’ Is a Blood-Spattered Thrill Ride: Podcast

    cliffhangerRenny Harlin‘s “Cliffhanger” has something for everyone: Sylvester Stallone, mountain climbing, Italy pretending to be the Rocky Mountains, stoner base jumpers, an iconic cold-open death scene, horses, “wolves,” terrible accents, avalanches, and blood … so much blood.

    This week, “Second Run” took a second look at the 1993 action-thriller “Cliffhanger” and decided that the title is far more literal than it is descriptive of the movie’s suspenseful nature — mostly because it’s not suspenseful at all. But thrilling? Oh yes, it is thrilling! Topics discussed include confusingly elaborate (but exciting!) fight choreography, predictable dialogue, avuncular character deaths, and the woefully miscast John Lithgow.

    Tune in next time, when we dive deep into the 1999 dark comedy “Drop Dead Gorgeous,” starring Kirstie Alley, Ellen Barkin, Denise Richards, Alison Janney, Kirsten Dunst, and … wait for it … Amy Adams.

    Listen to Second Run: A Movie Lover’s Podcast Episode 27: ‘Cliffhanger’ (1993)Total runtime: 52:55

    Subscribe to the “Second Run” podcast:

    Have thoughts/feelings/feedback about the podcast? Have a movie you really, really want us to watch and talk about? Hit us up on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram with the hashtag #SECONDRUN.

    Second Run: A Movie Lover’s Podcast by Moviefone celebrates Hollywood’s guiltiest pleasures by taking a fresh look at critically ignored movies and giving them a second chance at life. Join Moviefone editors Tim Hayne, Rachel Horner, Phil Pirrello, and Tony Maccio as they extol the virtues and expose the failings (with love!) of our most nostalgic movies.

  • ‘Gremlins 2’ Is an Absurd, Enjoyable Exercise in Movie Chaos: Podcast

    GREMLINS 2: THE NEW BATCHAh, “Gremlins 2: The New Batch” … How do we love thee, let us count the ways: 1. Rambo Gizmo, 2. John Glover‘s Daniel Clamp, and 3. Something we probably missed amidst all your chaos and nonsensical plot points.

    Yes, this week, the CAN’T WAIT! crew and special guest Drew Taylor tackle Joe Dante‘s (classic?) 1990 NYC romp, from its over-the-top-gory gremlin deaths and DNA splicing to its mysteriously contrived storyline and vanishing characters (RIP, Mr. Wing). Other topics discussed include how freaking scary the gremlins actually are, our general distaste for the movie’s lead characters (if you can call them that), and all the behind-the-scenes action that led to “Gremlins 2” becoming one Hollywood’s most exuberant flops.

    Remember to tune in next time, when we discuss Phil’s pick,” the 1993 Renny Harlin joint “Cliffhanger.” Hang on!

    Listen to CAN’T WAIT! A Movie Lover’s Podcast Episode 26: ‘Gremlins 2: The New Batch (1990)Total runtime: 1:02:43

    Subscribe to the CAN’T WAIT! podcast:

    Have thoughts/feelings/feedback about the podcast? Have a movie you really, really want us to watch and talk about? Hit us up on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram with the hashtag #CANTWAIT.

    CAN’T WAIT! A Movie Lover’s Podcast by Moviefone celebrates Hollywood’s guiltiest pleasures by taking a fresh look at critically ignored movies and giving them a second chance at life. Join Moviefone editors Tim Hayne, Rachel Horner, Phil Pirrello, and Tony Maccio as they extol the virtues and expose the failings (with love!) of nostalgic movies.