Movie/TV Reviews

Susan Granger’s review of “Mr. Malcolm’s List” (Bleecker Street)

 

Perhaps spurred by Lin-Manuel Miranda’s multiracial/multicultural hit “Hamilton,” inclusive, colorblind casting has become more and more popular, as evidenced by Netflix’s hit costume drama “Bridgerton” and the upcoming adaptation of Jane Austen’s “Persuasion.”

Now, there’s “Mr. Malcolm’s List,” a frothy, Regency-era romantic comedy, directed by Emma Holly Jones and written by Suzanne Allain, based on her 2020 novel by the same name.

Set in 1818 England, the upper-class, marriage-market plot revolves around the season’s most eligible bachelor, wealthy Jeffrey Malcolm (British/Nigerian actor Sope Dirisu), who is seen yawning through a boring ‘first date’ at the opera with Julia Thislewaite (Zawe Ashton), a former debutante entering her fifth social season as a single woman.

Because unsophisticated Julia is unable to sustain an intelligent conversation, there will be no second date – an indisputable fact that Julia finds humiliating, particularly when a mocking caricature of her is distributed throughout London, captioned “Next!”

From her cousin, bumbling Lord Cassidy (Oliver Jackson-Cohen), Julia discovers that notoriously fastidious Mr. Malcolm has a checklist of 10 qualities that any future ‘Mrs. Malcolm’ must possess.

Obsessively spiteful, scheming Julia summons her childhood chum, Selina Dalton (Freida Pinto), a candidly guileless clergyman’s daughter from the countryside, to London to serve as a set-up for revenge. While the outcome of this duplicity is predictable, the various courtships are charming, even endearing.

According to the press notes, Emma Holly Jones was eager to depict witty women who refused to conform to the ideas and boundaries that society placed upon them: “I wanted to reflect our society today so young brown and Black girls around the world would have their own Jane Austen-like film.”

On the Granger Gauge of 1 to 10, “Mr. Malcolm’s List” is a swooning, subversively sumptuous 7, playing in theaters.

Susan Granger’s review of “Lightyear” (Disney/Pixar)

 

It’s rare that Disney/Pixar movies incite controversy but “Lightyear,” a “Toy Story” origin story, certainly has. The great kerfuffle revolves around a brief, same-gender kiss that was removed and then reinstated when Pixar employees said Disney was censoring “overtly gay affection” as Disney CEO Bob Chapek reacted to Florida’s “Don’t Say Gay” legislation.

Following the movie’s unexpectedly weak opening, U.S. Representative Jim Jordan (R-Ohio) tweeted, “Buzz Lightyear went woke. Disney went broke.” But there’s no factual evidence proving that LGBTQ+ political pushback actually hurt “Lightyear” at the box-office.

A bigger problem seems to be confusion as to exactly how this animated movie relates to the iconic “Toy Story” franchise and, specifically, the Buzz Lightyear character, voiced by Tim Allen.

In this astronaut adventure, Buzz, the square-jawed, stoic Space Ranger, voiced by Chris Evans, is based on the mass-marketed, hard-plastic action toy doll that young Andy favored, displacing his old-fashioned pull-string cowboy doll Woody.

Buzz is a daredevil pilot with a disdain for authority. During a remote mission, his large Enterprise-like spaceship is marooned on faraway planet ‘T’Kani Prime. As Buzz makes test flights, utilizing advanced technology, there’s a time gap, each trip catapulting him four years into the future.

Since Buzz has become a “man out of time,” members of his crew are aging, having kids and, eventually, dying – while he’s still trying to achieve ‘hyperspeed’ to get them safely home.

Buzz’s closest colleague is Commander Aisha Hawthorne (Uzo Aduba), who winds up marrying a woman. It’s their brief display of affection at their 40^th anniversary party that aroused all the controversy.

Providing comedic moments, there’s Buzz’s scene-stealing robot-animal sidekick Sox (Peter Sohn), as eventually Buzz teams up with Aisha’s granddaughter, Izzy (Keke Palmer), and two other Star Command trainees: ex-convict Darby (Dale Soules) and goofy ‘Mo’ Morrison ((Taika Waititi).

Working from Jason Headley’s script, director Angus MacLane emphasizes that it’s OK to make mistakes as long as you learn from them.

FYI: Buzz’s spaceship’s GPS navigator (IVAN) is voiced by Mary McDonald-Lewis, who voices OnStar’s navigational system.

On the Granger Gauge of 1 to 10, “Lightyear” is a spin-off 6 – in theaters now but should transition to Disney+ streaming soon.

Susan Granger’s review of “Elvis” (Warner Bros.):

 

Australian filmmaker Baz Luhrmann established his reputation for gaudy extravaganzas like “Moulin Rouge!” and “The Great Gatsby.” Now he’s tackled the life of Elvis Presley, the gyrating “King of Rock ‘n’ Roll,” who changed the world of music, along with contemporary pop-culture.

Don’t for a minute think this is a bio-pic. It isn’t. Luhrmann discarded historical accuracy in favor of a grotesque carnival of fictionalized glitz and glamour, tracing how Black singers B.B. King (Kelvin Harrison Jr.),  Little Richard (Alton Mason), Sister Rosetta Tharpe (Yola Quartey), Arthur “Big Boy” Crudup (Gary Clark Jr.), Willie Mae “Big Mama” Thornton (Shonka Dukureh) and Mahalia Jackson (Cle Morgan) inspired Elvis.

The deliriously melodramatic story is told by promoter Col. Tom Parker (Tom Hanks), who first spotted Elvis (Austin Butler) in 1954 at the Louisiana Hayride, where the naïve, nervous singer with locomotive hips electrified the audience.

Initially enlisted by the exploitive Colonel to join country crooner Hank Snow (David Wenham) and his son, Jimmie Rodgers Snow (Kodi Smit-McPhee), Elvis soon became the headliner.

When he was criticized for his gyrations, Elvis’ adored mother Gladys (Helen Thomson) assured him: “The way you sing is God-given, so there can’t be nothin’ wrong with it.”

Biographical inaccuracies abound. Elvis didn’t sing “Trouble” at that 4^th of July show in Memphis; it was written for his movie “King Creole” (1958). And revisionist Luhrmann evades the fact that Priscilla Beaulieu (Olivia DeJonge) was only 14 when Elvis met her in Germany in 1959.

As for scheming Col. Parker, he was neither a colonel nor named Tom Parker; Andreas Cornelis van Kuijk came to the US from the Netherlands without documentation when he was 20, adopting a Southern accent and claiming to be from Huntington, West Virginia.

Baz Luhrmann and co-writers Sam Bromell, Craig Pearce & Jeremy Doner concocted the exhausting, episodic screenplay, while the live performance sequences are superbly captured by cinematographer Mandy Walker with production design/costumes by Lurhman’s wife/collaborator Catherine Martin.

Daring Austin Butler delivers an amazing Elvis impersonation, while Tom Hanks – camouflaged under mounds of latex – epitomizes the creepy con-man who specialized in ‘snow jobs.’ Costing an estimated $85 million, the 159-minute film was approved by the Presley family/estate.

 On the Granger Gauge of 1 to 10, “Elvis” is a spectacular yet strangely sad 7, now playing in theaters.

 

Susan Granger’s review of “Grace and Frankie: Season 7” (Netflix)

 

If you’re just discovering Netflix’s fresh, funny “Grace and Frankie,” you’re in for a treat. Launched in 2015, it has garnered numerous Emmy and Screen Actors Guild nominations. Concluding its seventh season, it’s the longest-running Netflix series in history with a total of 94 episodes.

The series begins with Grace (Jane Fonda) and Frankie (Lily Tomlin) waiting for their law partner husbands to join them at a fancy restaurant. When Robert (Martin Sheen) and Sol (Sam Waterson) arrive, they announce that they’ve fallen in love and are leaving their respective wives for each other.

To say that Grace and Frankie are stunned is an understatement. While they still share ownership of an ocean-front Malibu beach house and enough alimony to live comfortably, these two frenemies suddenly become single seniors, embarking on an often frustrating journey of self-discovery and transformation.

Busy, uptight Grace is a total perfectionist, having launched a successful business called Say Grace, which she gives to her two grown daughters. Always status-conscious, Grace continually fights against the aging process, mourning the loss of her youth, often drowning her sorrows in vodka.

Free-spirited, empathetic Frankie is a quirky, sassy painter with more than a passing interest in shamanism and recreational drugs.

The first season focused on how they planned to rebuild their lives. Then the show delved into issues facing marginalized women of a certain age – with brutal, hilarious honesty.

Cleverly created by Marta Kauffman and Howard J. Morris, “Grace and Frankie” makes both me and my husband laugh-out-loud. Love and sex are frequent topics for these entrepreneurial octogenarians who design vibrators. While much has changed over the years, Frankie still swears by her homemade concoction of Yam & Honey Lube.

As the final season concludes, superstitious Frankie is so convinced that she’s going to die that she throws herself a funeral, primarily to hear the laudatory eulogies. The sitcom concludes tenderly with a clever Dolly Parton cameo.

Perhaps the days of older actresses being relegated to saccharine-sweet, doting grandmothers or helpless mugging victims has finally come to an end.

On the Granger Gauge of 1 to 10, “Grace and Frankie” is an endearing 8, streaming on Netflix.

Susan Granger’s review of “The Card Counter” (Focus Features)

 

When filmmaker Paul Schrader’s “The Card Counter” opens with graphic shots of the torture chambers at Abu Ghraib prison, it immediately telegraphs that this drama will be more about brutality than blackjack.

Haunted by memories of what he’s done, ascetic William Tillich (Oscar Isaac) is a disgraced former military ‘interrogator’ who  uses the surname ‘Tell’ and roams the country living under the radar as part of the low-stakes casino circuit, never wanting to draw attention to himself as a big winner. Blackjack is his game of choice, but he also plays roulette and poker.

“I never imagined myself as someone suited to incarceration,” he notes, explaining how he adjusted to a long stint in Leavenworth. “It was in prison that I learned to count cards. You win, you walk away. You lose, you walk away.”

Refusing to stay at glitzy casino hotels, Tell checks into seedy motels – one night only – paying in cash. After entering his room, he begins a bizarre ritual of removing pictures from the wall and encasing each lamp and piece of furniture in white drop cloths, carefully tied with twine. Why? Perhaps not to leave fingerprints. Who knows?

While taking a dinner break between Juggling cards and chips, he’s approached by La Linda (Tiffany Haddish), who runs a stable of gamblers, bankrolled by an anonymous backer.  She wants him to join her group to play a bigger game with high-stakes competitors.

Then he meets Cirk Baufort (Tye Sheridan), the college dropout son of a deceased, dishonorably discharged comrade. Tell ostensibly tries to discourage the sullen kid from a devious revenge plot against a mutual enemy, sadistic Major John Gordo (Willem Dafoe), by helping him to turn his life around.

They’re both solitary, disaffected loners, never revealing their torment or intentions. For them, is redemption even possible?

That question is never answered by director/screenwriter Paul Schrader (“First Reformed”), although his dirge runs an agonizing 1 hour, 50 minutes.

On the Granger Gauge of 1 to 10, “The Card Counter” is a desolate, depraved, depressing 4.  Available on Prime Video, HBO, Apple TV & Vudu. Deal me out!

Susan Granger’s review of “Zero Contact” (Lionsgate/Grindstone/Enderby Entertainment)

 

As an avid Anthony Hopkins fan, I’ll see any of his movies BUT here’s an oddity: “Zero Contact.”

Reportedly produced remotely in 17 different countries during the 2020 global pandemic, it’s intended to be a high-tech, sci-fi thriller.

Making his directing debut, producer Rick Dugdale focuses on widower Finley Hart (Hopkins) a mysterious billionaire who is, allegedly, dead from kidney failure. That doesn’t stop the tech entrepreneur from masterminding what passes for a plot by Cam Cannon (“Deadlock”).

From the netherworld, Finley is intent on reinstating something he left unfinished called the “Quantinuum Initiative,” involving teleportation before a global disaster occurs – which requires the use of a “machine that runs on dark matter reactor.”

That precipitates a boring Hart Enterprises video conference call, involving Finley’s estranged son Sam (Chris Brochu), German lawyer Veronica (Veronica Ferres), Japanese innovation expert Riku (TJ Kayama), Board Chairman Hakan (Martin Stenmark) and a computer hacker (Aleks Gaunovic).

Each of Finley’s minions is supposed to input a secret code to activate the Quantinuum Initiative.  But since they  don’t understand what’s happening (nor do we), they’re somewhat reluctant. Rather predictably, there’s an uninvited, unwanted intruder who is up to no good. All of this Zoom-recorded derring-do is punctuated by a barrage of technobabble, signifying nothing.

Most disturbing of all, when the callers are placed ‘on-hold,’ we’re forced to repeatedly listen to “The Pina Colada Song”…that is, when the electronic score by Anders Niska and Klas Wahl isn’t providing distraction.

Anthony Hopkins always oozes charisma, inviting viewers into his Southern California home, where he delivers mind-melding monologues. He ruminates about art and science, in addition to playing one of his own musical compositions on the piano. But that’s not enough to save this cinematic waste of time.

Originally released as “the world’s first star-powered feature film NFT,” it’s unknown whether anyone ever purchased it.  

On the Granger Gauge of 1 to 10, “Zero Contact” musters a barely coherent, tedious 2, available to rent or buy on Amazon Prime, Vudu and Apple ^TV.

Susan Granger’s review of “Gaslit” (Starz)

 

A half-century after the nation was riveted by the Watergate scandal, the Congressional committee hearings about the Jan. 6^th attack on the Capitol are eerily reminiscent of that era, as depicted in the eight-chapter Starz’ original miniseries “Gaslit.”

Delivering Emmy-worthy performances, Julia Roberts stars as flamboyant Martha Mitchell with Sean Penn as her husband, Attorney General John Mitchell, in this political thriller.

Back in the 1970s, wealthy Arkansas socialite Martha became a media star for her outspoken accusations that POTUS Richard Nixon and his cohorts were responsible for the break-in at Democratic National Committee headquarters. A pill-popping alcoholic, nicknamed “The Mouth of the South,” Martha became Watergate’s Cassandra – for which she eventually paid the price.

While gregarious Martha seemed to know all about the conspiracy and cover-up, at first no one would listen to her. Even as she gave interviews and did the talk-show rounds, she faced doubt and derision.

Other primary players are ambitious White House Counsel John Dean (Dan Stevens) and his levelheaded wife Maureen (Betty Gilpin), along with earnest Watergate security guard Frank Willis (Patrick R. Walker) and sadistic, delusional Nixon loyalist G. Gordon Liddy (Shea Wigham).

Adapted by showrunner Robbie Pickering (“Mr. Robot”) from the Slate podcast “Slow Burn: Watergate” and empathetically directed by Matt Ross (“Big Love”), it captures Washington D.C.’s culture of complicity and cultural bitterness as it relates several personal stories, relentlessly cutting from one to another.

“I really didn’t want to make a show that was a Wikipedia rundown of Watergate,” states Pickering in the press notes. “I’m more interested in how complicity destroys people.”

Astutely aided by hair/make-up, Julia Roberts poignantly captures Martha’s complicated, impetuous nature, including her quippy charm. Wearing heavy prosthetics and a bald cap, Sean Penn is almost unrecognizable as hefty, jowly John Mitchell, torn between loyalties to President Nixon and to his beloved wife.

True to Martha’s real 1976 funeral, an anonymous supporter sent a huge, white chrysanthemum floral arrangement that spelled out: “Martha Was Right.”

On the Granger Gauge of 1 to 10, “Gaslit” is an addictive, intriguing 8, streaming on Starz and accessible via Hulu.

Susan Granger’s review of “Jurassic World: Dominion” (Universal Pictures)

 

It’s been almost 30 years since audiences were first awed by the sight of animatronic dinosaurs stampeding across the silver screen.  Now “Jurassic World: Dominion,” the sixth installment, marks the return of the human characters who propelled previous sequels.

There’s paleontologist Ellie Sattler (Laura Dern), reunited with former partner Alan Grant (Sam Neill) and wisecracking philosophical chaos theorist Ian Malcolm (Jeff Goldblum). Add raptor wrangler Owen Grady (Chris Pratt) and former theme park operations manager Claire Dearing (Bryce Dallas Howard), foster parents of teenage Maisie Lockwood (Isabella Sermon), an orphaned clone with a unique genetic code.

In the four years since the Isla Nublar park blew up in “Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom,” dinosaurs have roamed free, terrorizing cities and causing chaos. On the Western plains, animal behaviorist Grady herds herbivores, activist Claire advocates for dinosaur-rights and Maisie befriends the baby of a Velociraptor named Blue.

Meanwhile in a heavily guarded sanctuary in Italy, BioSyn’s sinister CEO Lewis Dodgson (Campbell Scott) with his aide, Ramsay Cole (Mamoudou Athie), is secretly developing huge, mutant locusts that will cause widespread famine, an ecological disaster that allows him to control the world’s food supply. Corporate greed has become the villain, pushing cloned prehistoric beasts into the periphery.

An intriguing subplot involving Dr. Henry Wu (B.D. Wong) using Maisie’s DNA is briefly introduced and then discarded. Likewise, cynical cargo pilot Kayla Watts (DeWanda Wise) does a reluctant Han-Solo-ish hero bit then vanishes.

Director Colin Trevorrow wrote the nostalgic script with Emily Carmichael – and what’s been lost is the joyously dazzling wonder introduced in Michael Crichton’s 1990 novel and visually infused in Steven Spielberg’s spectacular original 1993 film.

 Problem is: as a result of frenzied storylines, numerous gargantuan species and too many bumbling characters, there’s no emotional connection. And when two savage CGI apex predators finally grapple, it’s over a puny deer carcass. Perhaps this cautionary tale heralds the extinction of the once-beloved Jurassic franchise.

On the Granger Gauge of 1 to 10, “Jurassic World: Dominion” is a sentimental, yet overstuffed, superficial 6, playing in theaters.

Susan Granger’s review of “Crimes of the Future” (Neon)

 

Do you remember how controversial Canadian filmmaker David Cronenberg fetishized and eroticized automobile collisions in “Crash” (1998)?  One year later, Cronenberg wrote the original script for “Crimes of the Future,” just released in theaters. Perhaps it was supposed to be a companion piece.

This time, Cronenberg introduces avant-garde performance artists sometime in the dystopian future when humans have lost the ability to feel physical pain. Perhaps because people eat and metabolize plastic, the human body has evolved, unpredictably growing invasive, nonfunctional organs. It’s called Accelerated Evolution Syndrome.

Working together, Saul Tenser (Viggo Mortensen) and his partner/lover Caprice (Lea Seydoux) have developed a popular gimmick that involves her surgically excising an excess organ from his black-hooded body lying in a high-tech bed called a Sark module as the rapt audience snaps photographs.

They’re spotted by representatives of the shadowy, sinister National Organ Registry: Wippet (Don McKellar) and Timlin (Kristin Stewart), who burbles: “Surgery is the new sex.”

Then there are sycophantic technicians Berst (Tanaya Beatty) and Router (Nadia Litz), working for the company responsible for the remote-control equipment that Saul & Caprice use.

Meanwhile, Brecken (Sozos Sotiris), an eight-year old boy (whom we’ve seen munching plastic in the prologue) is smothered by his mother.  His father (Scott Speedman) begs Saul and Caprice to use the child’s body in their act and reveal the truth about his death via an on-stage autopsy.

As nosy Detective Cope (Welket Bungue) lurks nearby, this subplot reveals an environmental warning that becomes increasingly relevant.

If gruesome, disgusting imagery appeals to you, warped Cronenberg offers a bizarrely graphic buffet of body horror, including stomachs sliced & diced and eyes/mouths being sewn shut.

After making “EXistenZ,” “A History of Violence,” “Eastern Promises,” “A Dangerous Method,” among others, this is David Cronenberg’s first feature in eight years.  Yet back in 1970, he made another experimental film, also called “Crimes of the Future,” in which patients at a skin clinic used a dangerous cosmetic.

On the Granger Gauge of 1 to 10, “Crimes of the Future” is an extreme, stomach-churning 3, definitely not for the squeamish.

Susan Granger’s review of “Umma” (Sony Pictures releasing/Stage 6 Films)

 

The title “Umma” (Korean for “Mama”) is quite apt for this wannabe horror/thriller, starring Sandra Oh as Amanda, a first-generation Korean-American who was brutalized by her frustrated mother who punished any disobedience by giving Amanda electric shocks.

Now-grown Amanda and her teenage daughter Chris (Fivel Stewart) live on an isolated farm, raising bees and making honey. Amanda insists on living off-the-grid because she says she becomes ill if she’s around electricity. Motor vehicles, TV and cellphones are not allowed anywhere near their home.

Their peaceful, rural existence is shattered when Amanda’s elderly uncle (Tom Yi) unexpectedly arrives from Korea, addressing Amanda as Soo-Hyun – her Korean birth name – and delivering a suitcase that contains her recently deceased mother’s ashes, along with her most prized possessions.

Long estranged from her Korean family, Amanda tries to hide the suitcase’s contents in the storm cellar, but after confused Chris observes how strangely her mother is behaving, she demands answers to a myriad of questions.

“We started as one, and we’ll end as one,” Umma’s vengeful spirit ominously warns delusional Amanda as she slowly takes possession of her mind.

Meanwhile, friendless, homeschooled Chris meets River (Odeya Rush), the visiting niece of Danny (Dermot Mulroney), the genial store owner who sells their honey online. Chris reveals that she’s applying to West Mesa University – which will mean separating from manipulative, domineering Amanda.

There are several references to the popular Korean legend ‘gumiho’ throughout the movie. In Korean folklore, a ‘gumiho’ or ‘kumiho’ is a malignant spirit; in this case, Amanda’s angry mother is resentful because of her wasted potential as a skilled dressmaker.

First-time narrative feature writer/director Iris K. Shin dwells on the lingering effects of childhood abuse caused by the anxieties of assimilation. Too bad these provocative themes are not more fully explored since the characters are underdeveloped; instead, Shin relies on creepy, haunted-house psychological terror and silly, predictable jump scares.

On the Granger Gauge of 1 to 10, “Umma” is a ghostly 4, available on demand from RedBox, Apple TV, Prime Video, and Vudu.