Sally Wainwright's projects are strong—whoever casts Wainwright's shows deserves an Emmy/BAFTA. Louisa Harland is a revelation, and the supporting ensemble is wonderful. Sadly, I'm not much of a fantasy/occult cinema fan, and the savage fight scenes are brutal for a Disney production. I'm enjoying the series on its strengths, but what the show really makes me pine for is the continuation of Gentleman Jack (2019), which HBO abruptly canceled after 2 Seasons. It feels like some of the spirit of GJ is poured into NELL, and Harland is, in a fashion, Anne Lister (Suranne Jones). Just not quite the full monty.
Once (2007) was a strong, unforced little masterpiece. Since then, each Carney music-based "savior" film, Begin Again (2013) and now Flora and Son (2023), is like a Xerox copy—degrading with each iteration.
I haven't watched Defending Jacob, and I'm not sure I'll add it to my queue. I'm here to drop the coincidences between this title and Before and After (1996). Both "killer" sons are post-pubescent boys named Jacob, with both middle-class families situated in small town, Mass. Even the trailer for Defending Jacob centers on the title line of the 1996 film, "There's only before and after."
I just finished binging three of the four film adaptions from Herman Koch's 2009 novel, The Dinner (Dutch: Het diner): Het Diner (2013, Netherlands), I nostri ragazzi (2014, Italy) and The Dinner (2017, USA). So I'm a little fried on "bad-seed-killer-spawn prompts middle-class mommies and daddies to do terrible things in the name of their 'special innocents.' " There isn't enough Michelle Dockery content, and I'm so tempted to watch her in something contemporary, but this series is probably not that special.
This an exquisite film. I’ve been looking forward to seeing it since ‘Naatu Naatu’ was performed at the Acadamy Awards and was awarded the Best Original Song in March. The film reminded me of Hair (1979). The absurdist—in the sense of Theatre of the Absurd—song and dance and balletic action sequences break down and break through the politically absurd circumstances by fusing empowerment with sheer exuberance. However, RRR is also far darker and more brutal than anticipated. I’m generally not an action enthusiast—RRR undoubtedly regards itself in the action flicks genre.
Language and dubbing need a mention. Netflix has this awful policy of dubbing almost, if not all, their foreign films. While many European films on Netflix can be switched to their original language, RRR is available only in dubbed Hindi (plus English and a few other Western languages). Watching a dubbed movie is like reading the Sparknotes to a masterpiece—you may get the gist of the thing, but it conveys nothing of the spirit and soul. If a movie has such a thing as umami, then dubbing strips the flavor right out. The good news—and I highly recommend this—is that RRR is available in its original Telugu (with English subtitles) for streaming on Zee5, an Indian streaming subscription service featuring South Asian language films. You must purchase a subscription, but I found a code that offered $1.99 for the first month, after which I can end my subscription. Zee5 is a well-developed and sophisticated app for all major phones, smart TVs, and devices. https://www.zee5.com/global/ I was able to load it onto my Android-enabled television without fuss.
Despite overcoming personal hesitation (brutality) and obstacles (dubbed language), this film is worth the effort and acclaim.
Halfway through season 7, and it's some bullshit. I can't add much more than what's been commented on—"catfishing" the audience via Axe's so-called return is on point.
Mike Prince (Corey Stoll) is an absolute bore. What was mildly titillating in season 1, with Chuck (Paul Giamatti) & Wendy (Maggie Siff) getting their freak-on, has turned sour with almost every single central character indulging in the worst sexual deviance (chocolate shit?). Chuck's dad was always creepy but is now creepy while whiney and angry—another bore. I need to finish the series because I'm an absolutist, but this is a disappointing way to end a show that started with so much verve. Paul Giamatti, who is generally so enjoyable, as Chuck is almost unwatchable. Aside from the characters becoming farcical cartoons, the writing and plots, in general, are mealy and thin. It feels like the show never really recovered from the Covid break. I'm sorta glad it's finally ending.
I'm surprised comments here are giving this a thumbs up. It's all pretty dumb, IMO. I often try to offer specific plot analysis, but no hook here makes sense. I was interested in the "accomplished corporate negotiator" angle, but the series is more like the 1997 Air Force One (film)—all brute force. The fact that no agenda is given for the hijacking seems intentional, but this just makes everything that follows even muddier and less compelling (at least through episode 4). The folks on the ground are laughable. Each "character" is more cynical than the next. Then, to finally piece together as many clues that a "troubled plane" is in a genuine crisis and not immediately engage the British PM is ludicrous. The way the clues come in is the most interesting aspect, and Alice is the most engaging character. But her part is merely a few crumbs, and the "well, it's above my paygrade" contempt for her Romanian counterpart, again, just blows up any credibility the story might have contained. Finally, I find the relationships and "trauma bonding" onboard the flight tedious, as are the highjackers. As Pennsylvania Flight 93 from 9/11 exhibited in real life, harrowing yet profound heroism can be cobbled together as a team from people who were, hitherto, strangers to one another. This series mimics the most gruesome aspects of such an ordeal without any of the wit, heart, and bravery from such a trial by fire. I've got three more episodes to power through, but I'm not impressed.
I agree with the comments that Rotten Tomatoes is way off on the poor rating. But The Crowded Room is much more interesting in the second half when Tom Holland develops beyond portraying a scared little rabbit. Dissociative Identity Disorder (Multiple Personality) may have been novel in the 1970s. However, today's audience is more sophisticated, and hiding his diagnosis in the first five episodes comes across as gimmicky, bordering on sophomoric. I'm only into episode six, but Danny jumps off the screen as Tom Holland is allowed to bring a complex personality out of hiding. Other tropes keep the pacing sluggish. Nevertheless, it's a well-done drama that rises above the generic muck in a "crowded" streaming universe.
Dickinson has good bones and could have become something interesting. The contemporary overlay brings the content to life—nevertheless, the show isn't confident enough in its premise and resorts to weird hackneyed tropes. In season one, Dickinson sets the palette of a Louisa May Alcott novel, even setting up a fictionalized meeting wherein Alcott becomes inspired to write Little Women based on the Dickinson family :rolling_eyes:. Of course, since the Dickinsons have been reduced to the Alcotts, Louisa May must be transformed into something else–like a George Sand (Amantine Aurore Dupin) styled character. Sue is just a muddle, which is tragic. Season two turns into a bodice ripper, which is ridiculous.
Hated season 1. Love season 2. Shame they pulled the plug ☹
Weird to me that no mention of Edgar Allan Poe is attached to this project.
This got absolutely rave reviews from most critics plus many A-list directors—to me, it's a pretentious hash of #metoo and #cancelculture. Although my favorite line (Tár to Eliot Kaplan) is, "Well, now I can buy my own plane tickets. And you can bother someone else to try and teach you to crawl to the podium." Dayum, girl! If the remainder of the dialogue had been as crackling and not 90% prevarication, it might have made for a more interesting topic.
Helen Mirren is watchable as ever.. a feat in this pure camp remake, wherein even perennially elegant Anne Bancroft is reduced to the ridiculous. A bright spot is Roger Allam, who I just finished binging 9 seasons of, in Endeavor (2013). He is camped up here as well, but in a way that fits the role and isn't sloshing around in it. Whereas his Detective Inspector Thursday is dour, grumpy, and slightly corrupt, in Roman Spring, Allam (as Christopher) is witty and wryly jolly—a startling deviation.
@nftygirl, The fault of this production is not in the antique nature of Henry Fielding's 1749 novel, The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling. Indeed, hailed as one of the great comic novels of English literature and author Henry Fielding’s masterpiece, the style provides massive space for contemporary updating and social commentary. At least certainly, "loose women" and "smirking gentlemen" is a diluted, hackneyed device not at all present in the original material of Tom Jones:
As we determined, when we first sat down to write this history, to flatter no man, but to guide our pen throughout by the directions of truth, we are obliged to bring our heroe on the stage in a much more disadvantageous manner than we could wish; and to declare honestly, even at his first appearance, that it was the universal opinion of all Mr. Allworthy's family that he was certainly born to be hanged.
So many modern cross-overs in our currently inflamed and vexed Anglo-American societies could have been weaved into a contemporary retelling of the religious/Jacobite Uprising setting—all that is lost. But my biggest gripe with the production is how the filmmakers, instead, stuff the story into a kind of Austen-Dickens morality mashup. Jane Austen's and Charles Dickens's novels—along with their adaption progeny—have their charms. I'm a fan! (especially Austen) of the many film and television adaptions. However, Henry Fielding is very far afield of this type of country mouse/city mouse, living room, class melodrama.
We can see the grafting on to Dickens (primarily) with the derivative line, "To begin at the beginning is to begin…," an obvious ode to David Copperfield, "To begin my life with the beginning of my life…" in which Sophia of Tom Jones becomes the first person, narrator, to David of Copperfield. In Fielding's Tom Jones, the narrator is an entirely other being—more its own character—with its own relationship to the reader. This is at least one device in which the author introduces far-flung insights and opens discussion, wholly apart from the main plot.
Secondly, the overlay of Austen/Dickens removes entirely the canvas of comedy. A treatment, such as The Favorite (2018), Yorgos Lanthimos, or The Great (2020), Tony McNamara, would have been far more interesting, entertaining, and faithful to the novel.
The show has good bones, but the brutal slayings are becoming tiresome.
Wow. This show is a ride. I'm surprised I like it as much as I do. The supporting cast is amazing and strong to a one, led by the eminently watchable Billy Cruddup—he saves the show, really. Muscular support cast aside, the show is lumpy and uneven, with ludicrous, over-the-top histrionics by the two female leads that serve no real purpose. As much as Cruddup and co. buoy the production, Jennifer Aniston is nearly unwatchable. As co-lead (and co-host), Reese Witherspoon is more dull than hysterical, but her breakdowns are equally annoying, though less frequent. The supporting ensemble is too numerous to cite individually, but the show's strength lies therein. Each team member brings their own unique gravitas and wisdom without resorting to blase caricatured cliches. I have problems with the too-condensed "me too" narratives and perhaps an over-emphasis on the all-sides glimpse. But overall, I do end up caring for the team. Too bad, though, Alex Levy hadn't been taken out in the Italy car crash.
I’m not sure I want to watch this, but I wish Julian Sands appeared in the trailer.. I’m so sad about his disappearance in January 2023. May the angels look over you, Julian.
OMG—The Guardian quoting the film, “‘Say a knot strangles you, or you fall off a cliff on to the rocks. However you go, even if it’s a ghastly thing, at least you die fast,’ Seneca says. He briefly fakes his own death, falling into the lap of Rufus’s (Julian Sands) beautiful wife to do so, before rising again to tell his guests: ‘Kids, drink up, it’s later than you think.’”
John Malkvich quoting a different play, “Death, we finally meet up with it by chance on the hazardous path from one light to another and we say to ourselves, so that’s all it is?” :cry:
My initial response to this film is a kind of 'meh.' I agree with many critics that while an underwhelming project, I applaud (not merely) its sincerity but also its commitment to a specific unraveling—narratively and cinematically.
Yet by the final act, I was astonished by my emotional investment. First, Ben Vereen elevates the entire character and texture of the film—his character doesn't show up until halfway through. It's extraordinary how fit and deep Mr. Vereen continues to be as an actor closing in on a five-decades-long body of work (6 decades as of this writing). Second, my heart always does a little swan dive whenever Michael K. Williams appears (usually by surprise) on screen since his sudden death in 2021 (I'm screening Time Out of Mind for the first time in 2023). Kyra Sedwick is simply perfect, per usual.
But really, the chef's kiss that prompted my review is Dixon (Ben Varen) breaking out in a rendition of "Hine Ma Tov," almost as a throw-away cameo, in the last third of the picture. It's a hilarious, unexpected, and absolutely fitting moment for these characters. For the uninitiated, "Hine Ma Tov" is a Jewish hymn with Hebrew lyrics from Psalm 133, traditionally sung on Shabbat—but practically an Isarali anthem. I would love to know the back story of how it came to be performed by Ben Vareen in this film.
The film comes together by the end, but Richard Gere is both its greatest strength and biggest flaw. I usually adore Gere's ever-present intelligence on screen, but it breaks the realism here (for me). I'm constantly reminded of Gere's fine acting and never quite lose myself in his story.
"My films are fairly bereft of women and now I'm imagining what it's like to be one." ~ Andrew Dominik
Precisely. Terrible film.
Overall the series is heavy-handed compared to the 2010 UK version, but this week's episode 10, "Eseme's Story," is an especially grotesque version of current events in America.
It would be hilarious if Michael Mann cast Lady Gaga as Laura Ferrari.
This film is exhausting—the silly, "fun" parts are more wearing than the tragic elements.
My Policeman has all the drama and social punch of a 1970s NBC after-school special stuck in a Britsh-mannered morality play. So many exciting films plumb the frisson and mystery of an ill-fated triad. Two come to mind immediately—if you want to see Linus Roache shine in a parallel plot, see Wings of A Dove (1997). But a more striking companion piece to this film would be the real-life story of Bloomsbury Group members Dora Carrington and Lytton Strachey in Carrington (1995), which is just a wild and tragic but deeply loving story of unconventional lives.
No one mentions Jack Lalanne??! LOL. You must all be young babies.. I haven't seen the film yet; waiting for it to become available on a free streaming platform. But I grew up with Jack Lalanne on television in his fit little blue bodysuit. It was hilarious to us kids back then—when there were like five channels in the olden days! ha!
Is Lalanne featured? I wonder? Or just background period stage dressing?
About ¾ the way through Season 1, Catastrophe is getting repetitive and a bit dull: hear devastating true-to-life news—make cheery joke—rinse—giggle—repeat.
I "discovered" Rob Delaney recently on Stephen Colbert. I was blown away by Delaney's humor, charm and sympathetic heart break regarding his lost son (with accompanying book.) I looked up his work and thought this would be great and perhaps it'll p/up in later seasons. So far, though, chemistry between he and Sharon Horgan seem lacking—despite enormous amount of sex they engage in (at least in season 1). Horgan can be interesting, but her "put on" giggle after every gee-shucks joke by Delaney becomes grating.
After the initial meet and smash—wherein two middle aged, middling workers (she a school teacher, he an ad man)—the formula devolves down to she, Morris (Sharon Horgan), hoisting viciously cynical takes of-the-moment, while he, Norris (Rob Delaney), responds cloyingly with an, "I'm too SWEET for my shirt/Too SWEET for my shirt/So SWEET it hurts" jokey reply. [yawn]. This set up started the pilot on a strong note, I felt. But goes nowhere after that, really. Plus all the very horrible (in their heads) friends and family—mere fodder for the joke machine—make the pair even more isolating and distant to the viewer.
Of the "Getting-Kicked-in-the Ass by Life" genre of comedy dramas, Catastrophe falls maybe in the lower third. Far superior is Breeders (Martin Freeman/Daisy Haggard - 2020); Back to Life (Daisy Haggard - 2019); I May Destroy You (Michaela Coel - 2020). Russian Doll (Natasha Lyonne - 2019) is a notch or two better. However I'd rate Catastrophe better than the horribly worse Mr. Coreman (Joseph Gordon-Levitt - 2021).
I'll finish the series.. I'm a completest :grimacing: and update if Catastrophe gets substantially better. Otherwise, Meh.
Adding this film to my queue mostly on the strength of it being a "true story" and also from a couple of reviews on this page.
However, I'm adding a comment for the reason of Jim Gaffigan looking amazing in this film (preview)! All throughout Covid years Jim's weak comedy whining away at being cooped up with his HUGE (read Catholic) family and long suffering wife—who got terribly sick with a brain tumor but is ok—I've never heard him mention or promote this film. Gaffigan seems to do a good job at playing the villain and I'm looking forward to a deeper sense of the performer.
I'm gonna pass on werewolves—too bad cuz otherwise looks like a really interesting film.
looks interesting but i'm not into thriller gore. wish Soderbergh would have continued The Knick instead.
Season 5 is far and away the most intriguing of long-running The Crown series. With chronic ensemble turnovers—covering each step-up to the next generation in Elizabeth II's extended monarchy—this season's thespian batch comes closest to absorbing its subjects' spirit, physique, and soul. As Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, Jonathan Pryce is jarring—for about 5 seconds—before settling in as the troupe's strongest anchor (perfectly positioned by Pryce's God-given talent.)
Edinburgh's place in history, forever etched at the rear of his wife, makes the enigmatic Prince hard to fix on by cultural representations. Classically, he's been portrayed as a slightly frustrated, slightly sublimated, slightly emasculated would-be playboy. Earlier seasons of The Crown followed this model and cast Prince Philip as such—which is ok. His character blended nicely into the ostentatious decor. Pryce, however, shatters this stifled image with a portrayal that, at turns, is tender, stinging, terse, acerbic, and sharp-witted. Indeed, Pryce carries within him such a deep well of personal and royal moral code and effecting intelligence that he often threatens to upstage Imelda Staunton in her role as The Queen. Staunton holds her own but is often at risk of being swallowed up in her "steadfastness." The popcorn moments belong to her partner.
Of the next generation, Elizabeth Debicki's Diana is nothing short of breathtaking. The Late People's Princess is captured to astonishing effect, and one simply soaks in Diana's beautiful and 'alive' memory. For each awkward wig & mannequin-esque aping of an ethereal icon (i.e. Kristen Stewart / Spencer (2021); Naomi Watts / Diana (2013); Nicole Kidman / Grace of Monaco (2014); plus endless Marilyn's), Debicki shows what's possible in Tinseltown.
On the other hand, Dominic West's Prince Charles is the weakest link. In an otherwise muscular cast, locating West's POV for his Charles is milquetoast. Neither physicality nor spirit amount to much—even the dowdy cum "evil" Camilla Parker-Bowles in Olivia Williams' hands is gobsmackingly lively.
This season, brilliant casting with respective acting chops won the lion's share of plaudits. But the writing is strong with striking and (mostly) appropriate peeks at the inner lives and conflicts within "The System." At times, the season deteriorates to the maudlin, as with an overly-long sampling of "ordinary folks' " divorce stories or "regrets" for certain lovers. But for the most part unique corners are excavated for entertainment and for history.
My tiniest criticism is in the season ending at the most awkward of moments: over an impromptu and modest bite after the ballet, Dodi's dad invites the newly divorced and glum Princess on vacation. Diana demurs but promises to "think about it." Of course, the world knows what is to come. Meanwhile, Queen Elizabeth's cherished Royal Yacht is decommissioned—anticipating much upheaval and the coming transitions about to crash over The Crown—YET TO BE SCRIPTED!! wut??
It was a letdown to end so precipitously. Talk about a cliffhanger! I mean, early in the season, Dodi (Khalid Abdalla) and Diana have the barest drive-by introduction. And that's it. On the other hand, Season 5 did a handsome and generous dive into Dodi's father, Mohamed Al-Fayed (finely acted by Salim Dau), and his motivations, leading to multiple entanglements with The Royals. For instance, we learn Dodi and his Dad have won Oscars for being on the producing team for Chariots of Fire (1981)—WOW!—and other amusing social climbing intrigues for father and son in London and Paris society. If this is the trade-off, it's ground well spent. Nonetheless, Season 6 can't come soon enough!
I don't know that this is normally my cup of tea, but going in my queue on the strength of Christina Applegate. I came here for the breaking news that Applegate was just diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis—after a long health break, she pushed through the last half of of Season 3; her last. This is devastating news. I grew up on Married with Children—hated it—loved it—hated it—loved it—loved to hate it—hated myself for loving it—just finally loved it. Christina is an amazing comic. :(
I'm 4 episodes in and had higher hopes for this series. The trailer conveyed the mood and aesthetic of Paul Schrader's iconic classic American Gigolo (1980), and I was excited to catch up with Julian Kaye. The series carries slim glimpses of this promise—most notably in the use of the Blondie original soundtrack "Call Me" (Theme) driving up the California coast (of course), but also in a brilliant turn by torch singer (Braden Davis) in the last 10 minutes of episode 1.
After that, the show just seems to fall apart. Richard Gere's Julian is sweet and flirty, with glimpses of a gritty, darker turn to come, particularly in his relationship with Michelle Stratton (Lauren Hutton). In Schrader's Gigolo, their meetup and hookup were dubiously romantic and subversive. In the current series, the pair's meetup is laughably instant magnetism. The original also painted a bold, sexy instant allure—but included the coy dance of figuring out -or- mis-figuring out who the other was or could be. It was brilliantly awkward, vulnerable, and ultimately seductive (to the audience as well!). Of course, the series has a lot of ground to cover with the new and future unfolding plot, however, watering down their meet to a plot meme misses the raison d'être of Julian's tragedy.
I'm not a fan of multi-timelines, moving back and forth between worlds that seem in vogue by directors these days, but particularly here, the hours and hours of tedious childhood sob backstory could be devoted to the bewitching entanglement with the lively, sophisticated, and bone fide Michelle. Not that Gretchen Mol is anywhere close to lively or bewitching; ugh, what they do to her Michelle is just appalling. But, of course, Jon Bernthal's Julian is equally dull. This is where I got hooked by the trailer. I really thought Bernthal could fill Richard Gere's fancy shoes. It's possible he might have.. but his new character contains none of the tensions so delicately rendered in 1980 Gigolo.
Let's do a couple more characters. Do they really have Wayne Brady (of the daytime game show—Let's Make a Deal—fame) cast as the dark and foul Leon (magnificently acted by Bill Duke)? LOL!!!! Ok, not precisely 'Leon.' Wayne Brady (WAYNE BRADY!) plays a different character, 'Lorenzo.' But it's clear they are parallels. I'm only at ep 4, but surely 'Lorenzo' will betray Julian just as Leon had.
Leon (1980):
Julian: Why me? Why did you pick me?
Leon: Because you were frameable, Julian…Nobody cared about you. I never liked you much myself. Now get out!
How can you beat dialogue like that? While Leon was evil, he was a fully realized evil, with layers and layers of grim gamesmanship and original ugly wit. Of course, Wayne Brady's Lorenzo is a watery rom-com version of a dark, perhaps sinister, but loveable brother type. Isabelle is new and intriguing. Lizzie Brocheré plays an amazing seduction scene, but yet to be seen if the showrunners will take her anywhere. Rosie O'Donnell does a fine job of 1980's Detective Sunday standin. 1980 Detective Sunday (Hector Elizondo) is hilarious and his own kind of despicable putz. 2022 Detective 'Joan' Sunday merely "wants to do the right thing" but simplistically runs afoul of random plot obstacles.
I'll finish out the series. But the tragedy of Julian remains in the realm of Schrader/Gere.
