MINI-REVIEWS: BARB & STAR, THE WORLD TO COME, FRENCH EXIT & LAND

The following are quick, capsule reviews of Lionsgate's Barb & Star Go to Vsita Del Mar which is now available to rent on all streaming platforms, The World to Come from Bleecker Street which is now playing in theaters and will be available On Demand on March 2nd, Sony Classics' French Exit which is now playing in New York and Los Angeles and will expand nationwide on April 2nd, as well as Robin Wright's Land from Focus Features which is now playing in theaters.  

HONEY BOY Review

"The only thing my father gave me of any value was pain...and you want to take that away?" 

As someone who is less than a year younger than Shia LaBeouf and grew up watching Even Stevens there was no doubt that Alma Har’el’s Honey Boy was going to be something of an emotional endeavor; a deeply moving experience that would both be reminiscent of while also completely unraveling this element of my early teen years that created nothing but fond memories. This is obviously an extremely personal piece and it's tough sometimes to criticize as much, but thankfully there's little need for that here as LaBeouf relays exposure therapy sessions that helped him work through the trauma caused by his relationship with his father during a specific point in time in a way that pieces together both how he grew into the person he's become as well as exploring how he's moved past it. It's cathartic, sure, but for viewers who can remember how naturally funny and flat-out talented LaBeouf came across in that Disney channel show, Honey Boy also serves as this honest, unguarded piece of insight into the pain behind that comedy.

The film goes back and forth between LaBeouf's time as a child actor (referred to as Otis in the film), when he was living in a motel with his father who would come to set and run lines with him, and the post-arrest version of LaBeouf (Lucas Hedges) as he attempts to immerse himself in this treatment that has him repeating these stories that scarred him until they don't hurt anymore. As played by Noah Jupe, twelve year-old Otis adores his father and seeks his affection unabashedly yet his father, James (LaBeouf), has no real idea what it means to be a good dad or role model; instead James simply dismisses any display of emotion with a distant, "wipe your face, Otis. Don't cry in front of me." It's devastating, but so is most of what we see depicted in the film. Jupe's younger Otis is dealing with this father figure who wants to be good to him, wants to be there for him, but isn't good for his development in any sense of the word (his dad nonchalantly offering him cigarettes and booze at the age of twelve) and it seems Otis understands this, but doesn't know another way to navigate what he's experiencing other than to go along with it. There are key lines that stand out as pure truth that one can tell stuck with LaBeouf from his childhood as well, things such as his father resorting to bragging about the sound of his own piss hitting the toilet. Moments when there aren't really words to describe the amount of tragedy being experienced and within many of these scenarios LaBeouf paints one simply has to let the heartbreak wash over them while knowing this little boy has comes out the other side and is doing better. Alex Somers' fantastic score also helps considerably in allowing said tragedy to flow over and around the viewer rather than overwhelm them.

BOY ERASED Review

As someone who constantly wrestles with their faith if not necessarily the belief in a higher power, one of the lessons I've personally come to learn in life thus far is that, despite many a country songs telling you to "stand for something or you'll fall for anything," the truth of the matter is that to so deeply steep yourself in one set of beliefs is to ultimately guarantee that you'll eventually (in all likelihood) become a hypocrite. Human beings naturally evolve, we continuously experience new things, and gain greater perspectives on any number of situations all of which inform an ever-developing outlook on the world and the people that populate it. To be so stubborn as to try and categorize these present experiences and interpretations of life through the prism of a single piece of literature written over two thousand years ago only seems counter-intuitive to the abilities and intelligence God has blessed us with, not to mention a rather stressful way to frame ones existence; having to make sure what is inherently felt as right or wrong is supported by doctrine whose composers couldn't have imagined the world or society as it presently stands. There is so much clout given to these rules that outline what our behavior should be that people seem to often lose sight of that inherent voice-your conscious, God himself, whatever you want to label it-that really lets you know when something is right and when something is wrong regardless of what anyone or anything else's stance on the subject might be. That is not to say the Bible isn't helpful, of course it can be and is to millions upon billions of people across the globe, and this is not to imply there aren't certain absolutes of decency that can or should be swayed, but what is being suggested is that to commit so strongly to a single set of ideals is to also make one fear change. To fear change is to stop growing. And to stop growing is to willfully succumb to a limited or narrow view of the world. It is this conflict that Russell Crowe's Marshall Eamons, a Southern Baptist preacher living in Arkansas, faces in director Joel Edgerton's second feature, Boy Erased, when his teenage son is forcibly outed as gay.

THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI Review

In the first scene of writer/director Martin McDonagh's (In Bruges, Seven Psychopaths) new film, Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri, Mildred Pierce (Frances McDormand) drives past three billboards that are falling apart on an old road outside the titular small town she lives in that no one has used since the freeway opened. Hell, the last time a company even utilized the billboards for actual advertising was Huggies in the mid-eighties. Due to the contemplative look on Mildred's face we know the inciting incident is set to occur at any moment, but more important is the fact we take in the appearance of Mildred. Her hair is down, her clothes rather casual, and while Mildred never seems like she was ever the kid of woman to get too made-up, she looks to be in a certain place in her life that, while not peaceful, is one where she's come to terms with the reality of her situation. You see, Mildred's daughter was murdered a year or so prior to the beginning of the film and the investigation by her local police department seems to have waned over time-Mildred stating she hadn't heard a peep from them in at least seven months-prompting her to take matters into her own hands, but not in the manner of a revenge fantasy a la The Punisher or a recent Quentin Tarantino flick, but more in the vein of calling out those responsible for seeking her daughter's killer and rapist and holding them accountable for failing at their civil responsibilities. If you've seen the trailers you know Mildred does this by renting the three aforementioned billboards to send a very clear message to the Ebbing police department, calling out Police Chief George Willoughby (Woody Harrelson) in particular. Once Mildred goes through with this though, her look changes and, in turn, so must her mentality. No more does Mildred ever look as casual as she does in that first scene. No more does it feel as if Mildred might ever be at peace with what has occurred in her life. Rather, from the end of this scene on through to the end of the movie Mildred pulls her hair up into a tight ponytail, the back of her neck now shaved as if to say she has no frills about what she's doing. Never again do we see her in public with her hair down or her wearing anything resembling khaki or flannel, but rather Mildred only wears her industrial work uniform and bandana. This outward exterior that takes no crap from no one is key to her surviving the ramifications that come from her actions and the complexities she didn't expect as a result of those actions. Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri takes on this exterior as well, but don't be fooled as this is one of the most brutal, funny, dark, sad, and best movies of the year.

LADY BIRD Review

There is a line in Lady Bird that goes, “different things can be sad. It’s not all war!” Which not only served to make me feel more validated in times of my own sadness despite knowing there are countless others who have much more to complain about than myself, but this line of dialogue also kind of reassured me that all kinds of films could be great-not just the serious dramas that carry a weight of self-importance. Maybe Lady Bird does this somewhat intentionally as it knows its target audience will be the twenty to thirty-somethings that grew up in the early aughts as depicted in the film, largely compiled of the more artistic and individualistic states of mind that flock to such indie fare, who will inevitably contemplate if a coming-of-age comedy, such as Lady Bird, can be as great a film as anything else they've seen this year despite not necessarily being about something as earth-shatteringly important as other movies undoubtedly will be. Maybe writer and first-time director Greta Gerwig (Frances Ha, Mistress America) understood who her audience would be and wanted to reassure them of the safe intellectual zone where it would be okay to praise her debut to levels of near perfection it ultimately wouldn't be able to match triggering the inevitable backlash that she would blindly blow past due to her effortless charm. Maybe Gerwig recognized all of this in the midst of writing the film and decided to consciously insert this line of reassurance reminding all of us that it's okay to love her movie as much as you admire whatever Steven Spielberg or Paul Thomas Anderson are putting out this awards season, or maybe she was simply re-living a feeling from her youth when someone made her feel small about something she felt was really big. Either way, the fact of the matter is that Lady Bird, while admittedly specific to a certain demographic of the population (I'm all for diversity, but that doesn't mean we have to denounce films where there isn't as much we think there could be), is not just a straightforward coming-of-age movie, but one that is more about the navigation of that period in life that does the seemingly impossible task of collecting all these moments and disparate elements that no doubt each felt like defining moments in Gerwig's own adolescence and brings them together in a film that allows each to permeate throughout the entirety of the movie while at the same time shaping a thorough, comprehensive picture of our titular character.

MANCHESTER BY THE SEA Review

Manchester by the Sea is a simple film made from a rather simple story. Meaning that the narrative is straight-forward and wholly based in the everyday lives the majority of us tend to lead. While these factors certainly make it more relatable than say, something along the lines of Allied, which is technically based in reality, but from which we are so far removed at this point it almost feels not of this world. All of this is to say that in our current plane of existence, Manchester by the Sea feels personal. It is a movie that creates an authentic environment from the world in which it exists. It feels lived-in and to that point we are not necessarily welcomed as much into this halfhearted existence that comes to be the subject of the film as we are wedged into the ongoing crap show that literally and figuratively seems to make up Lee Chandler's (Casey Affleck) life. I find it best to go into most films without much of an idea as to what exactly one might be getting themselves into and while it may be difficult to do that in terms of major blockbusters when living in a world that offers teasers for teaser trailers it is with movies such as Manchester by the Sea where this practice can be exercised to its full effect. And so, I went in more or less blind to what Manchester by the Sea carried in terms of narrative and with only the buzz it garnered out of its Sundance premiere earlier this year to signify that it was one worth watching. No matter if one knows the basic premise or not though, one thing is for certain: one cannot know the whole of the story the film is telling and it is in how director Kenneth Lonergan (Margaret) sets up the present scenario for our characters to operate in and then how he slowly peels back the layers of each of their pasts helping us to understand not only why and how these people have become who they are, but also giving us a glimpse of how far they can go and what the future might hold for them that makes the experience so simultaneously simple yet equally involving. It's a powerful piece of human drama to say the least with bare bones emotions bleeding through on the face of Affleck and every other actor in any significant portion of the movie. Lonergan, as a writer, is clearly interested in digging into the psyches of those who have dealt in tragedy and analyzing the different ways in which we as human beings deal with such surreal, life-altering events. With Manchester by the Sea the writer/director tackles permanent heartbreak to grandly moving results.

KILL THE MESSENGER Review

Kill the Messenger is a true tragedy. A discussion, a meditation on the human life and the countless directions it could go according to the mind that is guiding it. It is a story that takes on the model of what its main character goes through reinforcing the difficulty with which he experiences in trying to follow the guiding light he caught a glimpse of as a child. Despite what else might go on in his life Gary Webb (Jeremy Renner) is an idealistic journalist who believes in the power of his profession. He is a man held to the virtues of his responsibilities to the American public and, as he should, takes that responsibility seriously. He is as ambitious as he needs to be in wanting to crack the one big story that might break his career wide open and send him from the bowels of the San Jose Mercury News to the big leagues of the The Los Angeles Times or Washington Post though these ambitions never feel as important as his need to produce quality. What the film tells of more than it does necessarily follow the plot of the story Webb is investigating is the role of man in our society when he plays with the powers that be. What is wrong with our government if we are not allowed to question them without repercussion? In this case the repercussion is that of Webb becoming the story, his credibility called into question, rather than what he'd actually investigated and reported on being the story or point of focus. It is as much a commentary on the integrity of investigative journalism and how it has devolved into what we have today (the 24-hour news cycle on roids) as it is an interesting take on the state of our country which promises and promotes freedom, but will devour you if you take those liberties to a certain extent. Kill the Messenger is an engaging film, one reminiscent of those 1970's Robert Redford films (namely All the President's Men) taking the paranoid political thriller and transcending even that genre classification because of the real life weight the story holds. It is a film that I was thoroughly engrossed in from the way in which it developed Renner's character, giving us more of who this man was than simply a hungry reporter, without allowing the film to become bogged down in details. It is as thoroughly engrossing as it is heartbreaking and as it comes to its conclusion it reveals itself to be truly that.

THE ZERO THEOREM Review

It is difficult to deduce an opinion from something which you feel you didn't really experience in the way it was intended to be. I watched Terry Gilliam's latest fantastical daydream on my laptop after renting it from Amazon, but the impact wasn't nearly as thrilling given the themes and ideas it seems the director intended to touch on. As with many a Gilliam film, the visuals are key here and the environment is overpowering to the transparent dialogue that changes up speaking patterns and use of words to seem different or original, but evoke little meaning in their change. Throughout the entire film our lead character, Qohen Leth (Christoph Waltz), refers to himself in plurals and though this is meant to suggest some type of existential meaning where he is all and all are him, we aren't ever really given clear reasoning as to why this guy is such an oddball besides the fact he lives in a similarly crazy-seeming world. It is this kind of mentality, this type of "off the beaten path" style for the sake of being different that is more irritating than innovative and if anything it seems Gilliam is splashing together little bits of his filmography to create something as outlandish as ever, but the issue is that none of it sticks. I enjoy a good conversation about the point of life, where we come from, faith, God, science, family, humanity and all of that stuff (good stuff that serious conversation and insight can produce) but screenwriter Pat Rushin, in his feature debut, has given Gilliam nothing particularly insightful or revelatory to work with other than asking the question of why one might want to prove that everything is for nothing? What would be the point Qohen asks? There is no thoughtful response though, there is no epiphany that comes forth to his apparently genius mind, but rather we are left with an age old John Lennon sentiment that doesn't so much invigorate us about our psychological state of being, but more comforts our human condition in flowery ways because the film is written with such flowery language.