Authors Posts by Jeffrey Sanzel

Jeffrey Sanzel

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Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

With the success of Bridgerton, Regency has currently eclipsed Victoriana as the go-to for period drama. While Jane Austen’s seminal work, Pride and Prejudice, has never been far from television and cinema, Dickens has more often been the primary source for historical adaptation.

In 2009, Suzanne Allain self-published Mr. Malcolm’s List and adapted it for the screen. After a 2015 podcast reading, Emma Holly Jones acquired the rights along with producer Laura Rister. A short film titled Mr. Malcolm’s List: Overture, directed by Jones, was released online in 2019. Subsequently, the novel was published by Berkley Books in 2020. 

The year is 1818, a time of tea and quills, empire waists, and oversized top hats. Mr. Jeremiah Malcolm (Sope Dirisu), the wealthy second son of an earl, seeks a bride. With “twenty thousand a year,” looks, and charm, he is the season’s catch. Courting and then moving on, none of the prospective ladies match the criteria on the titular list. These items include an amiable disposition and a knowledge of politics, a sense of charity, and a host of other desirable traits.

The lovely but vaguely shallow Julia Thistlewaite (Zawe Ashton) fails to engage him during their time at the opera. Shortly after, a humiliating newspaper caricature featuring Julia’s rejection circulates throughout London. Bent on revenge, the spurned Julia—now out for a crushing four seasons—sends for her friend Selina Dalton (Freida Pinto). Julia grooms Selina as the perfect trap for Malcolm by having her embody all of the things on the list. Daughter of a poor Sussex vicar, Selina—surprise, surprise—is the perfect match for the man. 

While the plot is simplistic, it fits logically into the Regency world. With drawing rooms and drinking clubs, Mr. Malcolm’s List comfortably evokes the environment, if not the works of Jane Austen. The priority of marriage and money swirls around the principals, cloaking them in the power of society and the prevailing poison of gossip. Here, “what people say is what matters,” and often, they are “judged and found wanting.”

The elements for a delightful romp into the intrigue of romance gather at the outset as Julia launches into action.

So why doesn’t it work? The answer is simple: They are all too nice. Everyone is not just charming but, for the most part, kind. Even Julia, at her most vindictive, manages to be likable. The narrator states that Malcolm is a nice person. He is no Mr. Darcy, with his haughtiness and self-absorption. He has the reputation of a “trifler”—but his actions seem to belie this. Selina has no side to her; absent is the delightful edge that Elizabeth Bennet possesses, which gives her character dimension. 

Also, there is a dearth of characters that are “more than.” One looks for the mercenary Mrs. Bennet, the oily Mr. Collins, or the roguish Wickham. Here, only two minor characters—an older gentleman pursuing Selina and Selina’s twice-wed cousin, the flittering Mrs. Covington (a welcome scenery-chewing Ashley Park)—approach anything resembling the appealingly grotesque. The overall blandness of nice people makes for what amounts to a tedious two hours.

Pinto is smart, strong, and always watchable. She never allows Selina to become petulant, even when most frustrated. Dirisu embodies Malcolm with a wryness that peeks throughout. His good looks, rich voice, and ability to make even the smallest shift count create a likable (if too likable) protagonist. Oliver Jackson-Cohen manages to elevate the sidekick caught between opposing factions, mining the humor; sadly, he mostly disappears halfway through the film. Given the character’s inconsistency, Ashton finds some arc in Julia. Divian Ladwa’s servant John is funny but short-changed, as are all the “below stairs” characters.

There are weighty discussions about life and love but little wit. Sparks require friction, and the film lacks discord. Even the gossip appears fangless, and the hurdles seem low. Allain’s screenplay is so by the numbers; there is never doubt, not just about the outcome but what will happen moment to moment. Jones’ direction captures time and place but lacks tone. A vague sitcom quality hovers around the edges, including Selina’s clumsy training montage. The costumes and settings are detailed, lush, and a visual feast. But these are not enough to sustain interest.

Comparisons can easily be made to Bridgerton, especially in the show’s second season, a less-than-subtle take on Pride and Prejudice. Both are style over substance. But where Bridgerton manages to find some surprising choices, the facile and often banal Mr. Malcolm’s List offers no such revelations. 

In the end, one would hope for more Thackeray’s Vanity Fair and less Hallmark Movie of the Week. Nice is nice. But it isn’t fun. 

Rated PG, the film is now playing in local theaters.

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

Australian auteur Baz Luhrmann has left his kinetic imprint on a range of cinematic works. Known for his bold visual style and thumping soundtracks, William Shakespeare’s Romeo + Juliet (1996), Moulin Rouge! (2001), and The Great Gatsby (2013) are among his most prominent projects. With Elvis, he has turned his sights on one of the most iconic performers of the twentieth century. Working from a screenplay co-written with Sam Bromell, Craig Pearce, and Jeremy Doner, Luhrmann presents an almost hagiographic portrait, smoothing out many of the rougher edges.

Elvis begins with Luhrmann’s usual frenetic assault. Slow-motion, quick cuts, aggressive music, and even a dissolve into a comic book set the tone for an original, if over-the-top, approach. However, within thirty minutes, the film settles into a traditional biography with only occasionally departing from a straight narrative. It becomes surprisingly pedestrian, given Luhrmann’s signature style. Predictable montages with cities superimposed on a map indicating travel seem a throwback to films of a previous century. Perhaps this is to put the action in its time, but it leans more towards creaky than homage.

The film tells the story from the perspective of Elvis’s agent, Colonel Tom Parker (Tom Hanks). He serves as narrator and villain, tracing the singer from his poverty-ridden childhood through Parker’s elevation of the singer and Elvis’s meteoric rise. Much is made of Elvis’s fascination with African-American music of Memphis’s Beale Street. The huckster Parker becomes guide and gatekeeper to the naive young man, with something Faustian about the story: Parker as a corpulent Mephistopheles making dreams come true.

The film covers little new ground. In two and a half hours of playing time, Elvis reveals bits and pieces but never creates a full portrait of any of its characters. Luhrmann pulls his punches, making Elvis an almost benevolent figure, eschewing many darker elements. The drugs and sex are touched upon but then relegated to the background. While Parker states that Elvis was “the taste of forbidden fruit,” these are seen only in sanitized glimpses.

The greatest star of many generations was the victim of bad choices and insidious management. There are harrowing moments—particularly when his father decides to get him on stage when he should be in a hospital. But these moments are too few and far between. Instead, the movie focuses on performances and the push-pull relationship between the manager and the managed. Nods are made to Elvis’s devastation over the assassinations of Martin Luther King, Jr., and Robert Kennedy and his desire to make bigger statements. But they are skimmed over. 

His career is played in fast-forward, his army service and movies receiving only perfunctory glances, segueing to television, and finally to Vegas. The Steve Allen debacle, with Elvis in tails singing to a hound dog, makes for a decisive moment, and the entire residency at the International Hotel receives more than a cursory treatment. 

Tom Hanks gets points for giving the least “Tom Hanks” performance of his career. His almost freakish Parker is an obese fat suit and distorting prosthetics, calling to mind Jiminy Glick or Danny DeVito as the Penguin. The shadowy “Colonel” was a fraud and a charlatan, not southern but Dutch. For some strange reason, Hanks opted for an untraceable European accent (and sounding nothing like any of the available clips of the real Parker). One expects lines like “He’s the greatest carnival attraction I’d ever seen; he was my destiny” to be followed by a maniacal laugh. He creeps around the film’s periphery, wandering in his purgatory casino.

In theory, the reason for biographical films is to explore historical figures, acknowledge their accomplishments, explore them in the context of their times, or gain insight into what made them unusual, exceptional, and memorable. However, more often, the films become a celebration of the actors’ work: Daniel Day-Lewis in Lincoln; Jennifer Hudson in Respect; Joaquin Phoenix and Reese Witherspoon in Walk the Line; Rami Malek in Bohemian Rhapsody, etc. Somewhere along the way, the portrayal subsumes the persona.

Austin Butler delivers as Elvis. He captures the King in every look, shift, and shrug. He embodies the roiling doubts and the desire for more. Whether struggling with career choices or trying to care for his dysfunctional parents, he infuses each moment with integrity and star power. His vocals are excellent, and he has found the required nuances. (Butler sings all the earlier songs and then is blended with actual Elvis recordings for the later years.)

By the film’s end, little has been revealed about the man or the myth. There are events and interactions and a bit of trivia but not much depth. Unlike Dexter Fletcher’s Rocketman, the gloriously messy look at Elton John, Elvis chooses not to reflect its subject in style or approach. There is nothing “Elvis” about Elvis. Instead, Baz Luhrmann offers a by-the-numbers biopic with a mesmerizing central performance. It is something, but perhaps not enough.

Rated PG-13, the film is now playing in local theaters.

One of the most anticipated movies this summer is 'Where the Crawdads Sing.'

By Jeffrey Sanzel

A year ago, studios wondered whether there would be a “return to normal.” The summer of 2021 straddled a mix of theatre attendance and residual streaming. Delays in various releases continued through the fall and into the winter and spring. This summer, the options seem to reflect the pre-pandemic era. 

Elvis

Elvis is one of the most anticipated films. Directed by Baz Luhrman (from a screenplay by Luhrman and others), the biopic focuses on Presley (Austin Butler), from his early career to his iconic rise. Much of the story chronicles his complex relationship with Colonel Tom Parker (Tom Hanks). Lurhman is noted for his non-traditional approaches (as evidenced in his Moulin Rouge, Romeo + Juliet, and The Great Gatsby), so his take will most likely reflect his unique style. Rated PG-13 · Release date June 24

Minions: The Rise of Gru

Minions: The Rise of Gru offers a sequel to a spinoff. Minions (2015) followed Despicable Me (2010) and Despicable Me 2 (2013). The second film is in the wake of Despicable Me 3 (2017). For the franchise fans, the story picks up after the events in Minions, with twelve-year-old Gru (voiced by Steve Carrell) striving to join the supervillains known as the Vicious 6. Rated PG · Release date July 1

Thor: Love and Thunder

For those craving the most traditional summer fare, there is Thor: Love and Thunder (July 8), the sequel to Thor: Ragnarok (2017) and the 29th film in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Thor enlists the help of Valkyrie, Korg and ex-girlfriend Jane Foster to fight Gorr the God Butcher, who intends to make the gods extinct. Taika Waititi directs Chris Hemsworth in the title role. The film also stars Tessa Thompson, Natalie Portman and Christian Bale. Rated PG-13 · Release date July  8

Where the Crawdads Sing

Delia Owens’ bestseller 2018 Where the Crawdads Sing reaches the big screen with Daisy Edgar-Jones as Kya, a self-raised girl from the marshlands of North Carolina who becomes the prime suspect in a murky murder case. One of the most popular novels in the last ten years, this tale of secrets hidden and revealed is one of the more serious offerings. Not Yet Rated  · Release date July 15

The Gray Man

For those looking for action thrillers, The Gray Man offers the CIA’s most skilled mercenary (Ryan Gosling), uncovering dark, incriminating secrets about the organization. Chris Evans plays a psychopathic former colleague assigned to hunt him down. Produced and directed by Anthony Russo and Joe Russo, The Gray Man hopes to be the first of a franchise based on Mark Greaney’s Gray Man novels. Rated PG-13 · Release date July 15 

Nope

One of the more intriguing releases is Nope (July 22). Residents of an isolated town in California, including ranch owners James and Jill Haywood (Daniel Kaluuya and Keke Palmer), witness a mysterious and abnormal event. This science-fiction horror film is written, directed, and produced by Jordan Peele, whose brilliant and distinctive style always informs his work, including the highly effective Get Out and UsRated R · Release date July 22

Marcel the Shell with Shoes On

Equally as interesting is Marcel the Shell with Shoes On, a live-action/stop motion-animated mockumentary that trails the titular character (voiced by Jenny Slate) who embarks on a journey to locate his family. Rated PG · Release date July 24

The Black Phone

No summer is complete without the usual dose of horror. The Black Phone (June 24) reunites Ethan Hawke with Scott Derrickson, his director from Sinister (2012). Here, a kidnapped boy trapped in a basement realizes he can communicate with this captor’s previous victims. Rated R · Release date July 24

Bullet Train

Bullet Train is a hybrid action comedy/thriller based on the Japanese novel Maria Beetle. Brad Pitt heads an ensemble cast as trained killer Ladybug (Pitt), who wants to give up the life but is pulled back in by his handler (Sandra Bullock). On a train from Tokyo to Kyoto, competing assassins discover they are after the same briefcase. (There has been some backlash on the film’s casting, with two of the novel’s main characters becoming non-Asian.) Rated R · Release date July 29

DC League of Super-Pets

The family-friendly DC League of Super-Pets is an animated adventure with Superman’s dog, Krypto (voiced by Dwayne Johnson), organizing shelter pets who have special powers to free the Justice League, which mastermind Lex Luthor has captured. Rated PG · Release date July 29

Bodies Bodies Bodies

The satirical slasher Bodies Bodies Bodies (August 5) sees a group of friends gathering for a house party to play a murder mystery game, only to discover an actual murder has taken place, and they must now play the game for real. Rated R · Release date August 5

Samaritan

In Samaritan, a young boy (Javon Walton) realizes that a famed superhero, who was thought to have gone missing, may still be around. The film also stars Sylvester Stallone. Rated  PG-13 · Release date August 26

3000 Years of Longing

There is a surprising dearth of fantasy, with Three Thousand Years of Longing being one of the few. Adapting and directing A.S. Byatt’s short story The Djinn in the Nightingale’s Eye, George Miller returns after a seven-year hiatus. The epic romantic fantasy chronicles a woman (Tilda Swinton) who encounters a djinn (Idris Elba) who offers her three wishes in exchange for his freedom. Rated R · Release date August 31

Clearly, this summer hosts a variety of choices for all filmgoers. 

*This article originally appeared in TBR News Media’s Summer Times supplement.

A scene from 'Lightyear'. Image courtesy of Disney/Pixar

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

“To infinity and beyond” takes on a different context in Pixar’s excellent Lightyear. Instead of a pithy catchphrase, the words become a heartfelt exchange between Buzz Lightyear and his friend and commanding officer, Alisha Hawthorne. This adjustment encompasses the tonal shift from Buzz’s cinematic origin in the world of Toy Story.

Here, Lightyear is the favorite film of Toy Story’s young Andy Davis, who received a Buzz Lightyear toy in 1995 when the movie was released. Lightyear is a meta-spinoff of the Toy Story series but its own entity. Buzz Lightyear is not the action figure but the source character himself. He is less the stiff, oblivious punchline and more a mildly but easily exasperated military careerist. The Star Command Galactic Ranger and Alisha explore the planet Tikana Prime, which is overrun with attacking vines and insectoid creatures. In trying to evacuate, Buzz damages the vessel, leaving the crew marooned as they conduct repairs. 

What follows is a classic science-fiction story dealing with the variegations and complications of time travel. Each time Buzz attempts to go into hyperspace, a time dilation of the four-minute journey passes as four years on Tikana Prime. Buzz fixates on liberating the stranded team. Meanwhile, the crew continues to live and flourish, developing a community that does not include the alienated (and often alienating) Buzz. 

A scene from ‘Lightyear’. Image courtesy of Disney/Pixar

The societal growth is shown most vividly in Alisha, who marries and raises a son with her wife and eventually passes on her love of being a ranger to her granddaughter, Izzy. While Buzz obsesses on the world left behind, Alisha thrives in the world that is present. (This beautifully integrated LGBT element caused it to become the first children’s animated film to be given an NC16 rating in Singapore, equivalent to an R rating in the US.)

The film is not without laughs, but they are often of a subtler variety. Alisha chides Buzz for his constant self-narration, reminding him that no one ever listens to his logs. Buzz receives a robotic service animal, a feline named Sox, whose running commentary and support function as an emotional connection for the lonesome Buzz. Underneath the “I’m Buzz Lightyear—I’m always sure” is a lost and slightly damaged ranger. 

After sixty-two years of failures, Alisha’s replacement, the insensitively bureaucratic Commander Burnside, shuts down Buzz’s attempts. By now, robots have invaded the planet under the control of the mysterious Emperor Zurg (the only other character from the Toy Story canon). A laser shield has been the sole protection from the machines overrunning the vulnerable community. Bruised but undaunted, Buzz goes rogue to complete the mission. He encounters ragtag members of the colony’s defense force who eventually become his team.

There is nothing strikingly new in Lightyear. In its beautiful, rough cinematic animation, it conjures the Lucas universe. Sly references permeate the canny, straightforward screenplay by Jason Headley and Angus MacLane. The stock characters are written with wit, but more importantly, humanity. The revelation of the antagonist provides a powerful “ah-hah” moment, giving Buzz a personal epiphany. 

Chris Evans provides the voice for Buzz Lightyear in the new Toy Story spinoff.
Image courtesy of Disyey/Pixar

Chris Evans embodies Buzz with the right balance of bombast and guilt, never sacrificing the pain for a laugh. Uzo Aduba’s Alisha is the perfect foil: smart, clever, and fully aware. The trio of under-trained recruits form Buzz’s eventual entourage. Keke Palmer captures Izzy’s mix of eagerness and fear. Taika Waititi’s Mo Morrison possesses the right touch of wide-eyed naïveté. Dale Soules, channeling her Orange Is the New Black persona, ideally assays the elderly paroled convict with a penchant for blowing things up. As Sox, Peter Sohn is simultaneously warm and deadpan—with several references to R2-D2. (There is an amusing bit with Sox providing sleep sounds.)

MacLane has directed Lightyear with a sure hand and a clear vision. He has led his voice actors and animation teams to create a story that echoes the importance of belief in others with striking and often thrilling visuals. Told through a man out of time (landing in a world where the sandwich is rethought), Lightyear finds its head and heart in ideas of life and home. More Star Wars than Toy Story, the film plays on an adult level but offers much for young audiences to enjoy. It is most on the nose (i.e., children’s movie) in the lessons of teamwork. But the ideas are smoothly introduced in action (no catchy theme songs like “You’ve Got a Friend in Me”). Like with Encanto, the layers only enhance the watching experience.

With Lightyear, Pixar has found a fresh, enjoyable, and original concept. The creators adeptly transformed a character from one universe to another. Handling the shift with style, Lightyear celebrates wonder, adventure, and, ultimately, integrity. Rated PG, the film is now playing in local theaters.

A scene from 'Jurassic World: Dominion.' Photo courtesy of Universal Pictures

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

The Jurassic Park franchise launched in 1993. Based on the 1990 novel by Michael Crichton, Steven Spielberg directed the film from a screenplay by Crichton and David Koepp. Featuring Sam Neill, Laura Dern, Jeff Goldblum, B.D. Wong, Samuel L. Jackson, and Richard Attenborough, the special-effects packed film became the highest-grossing film released worldwide until that time, besting Spielberg’s E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial (1982). Jurassic Park perfectly combined taut structure, grounded humor, and effective effects.

Spielberg and Koepp returned for The Lost World: Jurassic Park (1997), along with cast members Goldblum and Attenborough, joined by Julianne Moore and Vince Vaughn. The film received mixed reviews but a positive audience response, breaking multiple box office records. Jurassic Park III (2001) was the first without Spielberg as director. And while it brought back Dern and Neill, the film received a predominantly mixed-to-negative response. 

A scene from ‘Jurassic World: Dominion.’ Photo courtesy of Universal Pictures

Jurassic World: Dominion, directed by  Colin Treverrow, reunites cast members from the entire network: Dern, Neill, Goldblum, Wong, Chris Pratt, Bryce Dallas Howard, Omar Sy, Isabella Sermon, Justice Smith, and Daniella Pineda. Rounding out the starry cast are DeWanda Wise, Mamoudou Athie, Campbell Scott, Scott Haze, and Dichen Lachman. 

The initial premise is fascinating. A news report explains that following the destruction of the Central American island Isla Nublar, dinosaurs now live among us, always hungry and often violent. The new normal raises ethical questions of accountability and coexistence. These de-extinct animals result from man’s manipulation of science and, therefore, society’s responsibility. Quick cuts of dinosaurs attacking juxtapose with compelling images of these wandering creatures living out of time and place. One powerful clip shows a dinosaur eating garbage next to a train track. Beauty, danger, nobility, and abandonment are all on display. 

However, after this brief prologue, the film denigrates into a mess of science fiction and thriller clichés that are hopeless retreads of the first three films. The convoluted machinations include the corrupt Biosyn (sin?) Corporation, Sir Benjamin Lockwood’s cloned granddaughter, biogenetically engineered locusts the size of Dachshunds destroying the food chain, altering DNA and splicing of genomes, black market breeders, and a few other threads not so much woven into the narrative fabric as clumsily stapled. 

A scene from ‘Jurassic World: Dominion.’ Photo courtesy of Universal Pictures

However, with all the plot, there is something ploddingly by the numbers, with one predictable action sequence after another, repetitions of previous Jurassic outings, or pale copies of Indiana Jones. Dominion recalls Godzilla vs. Rodan more than the earlier focused and well-crafted incarnations of the Jurassic universe. Strangely, Dominion nods more to the work of animator Ray Harryhausen and the Sinbad series than to Crichton’s world.

And while strong actors populate the cast, they cannot elevate the stiff dialogue of Emily Carmichael and Colin Trevorrow’s witless screenplay. It is nearly impossible to play multiple notes in a one-dimensional character. Stock outlines substitute for human beings, with everyone talking in breathy, important voices. Fortunately for them, they are mostly directed to look up when they hear dinosaur footsteps. There is lots of running (the people) and chomping (the dinosaurs) and disinterest (the audience).

Dern and Neill give vague performances and are uncomfortable in the cringe-worthy romance awkwardly forced onto their characters. Goldblum’s quirky mannerisms make his Apartments.com commercials appear subtle. Scott plays the corporate villain like Tom Hanks channeling a neurotically twitchy Steve Jobs. Platt and Howard show up. Wise and Athie almost—but not quite—manage to rise above the swamp. As the clone, Maisie, Sermon finds a few more shades than the rest of the company, bringing honesty to the struggle with personal revelations. But these glimpses hardly save the film.

The special effects seem tired, with a ragtag combination of CGI (the locust swarm is particularly unimpressive) and animatronics (basic Disney World). As a result, Dominion feels less blockbuster and more thrill ride without the thrill. Michael Giacchino’s generic score does most of the heavy lifting, with dark chords and lush strings substituting for emotion, style, and actually earned tension. 

The final moments of the film return to the movie’s initial potential. But at the end of a bloated two and a half hours, it is far too late. Let’s hope, as with the real dinosaurs, Jurassic World: Dominion marks the extinction of the franchise.

Rated PG-13, the film is now playing in local theaters.

Tom Cruise as test pilot Captain Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell in a scene from the film. Photo courtesy of Paramount Pictures

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

In 1986, 24-year-old, pre-couch-jumping Tom Cruise was featured in a string of high-profile films: The Outsiders (1983), Risky Business (1983), All the Right Moves (1983), and Legend (1985). Poised for a breakthrough, his performance as rebellious Naval Aviator Pete “Maverick” Mitchell in Top Gun secured his stardom. The highest-grossing film of the year, it made over 350 million dollars worldwide. 

Many critics found little to love outside of the aerial dynamics, but it became a pop culture hit, winning the Academy Award for Best Song, “Take My Breath Away” (music by Giorgio Moroder; lyrics by Tom Whitlock). Inspired by Ehud Yonay’s article “Top Guns,” the film’s screenplay (by Jim Cash and Jack Epps, Jr.) combined endless flight jargon with dialogue lifted from the lesser After School specials. 

Peppered with clichés like “he’s a wild card” and “it’s not your flying, it’s your attitude,” the film lacked depth, subtlety, and even basic tension. The insufferably smarmy Maverick is not so much a character but the smirk of one. Outside of one “steamy” scene between Cruise and co-star Kelly McGillis, the homoerotic movie is populated by men in towels talking about the need to shower. Both misogynistic and juvenile, Top Gun made Risky Business seem emotionally sophisticated. 

As early as 2010, a Top Sequel was in development. Finally, after years of delays, Top Gun: Maverick arrives 36 years after the original’s release. Instead of a clumsy sequel, the creators have forged a smart, entertaining, well-made film that is visually stunning. If the screenplay (by Ehren Kruger, Eric Warren Singer, and Christopher McQuarrie) is not exactly Citizen Kane, the storytelling is defined. The characters are simply drawn but true to the situation. There is an honesty and a general earnestness that harkens back to the better war movies of the 1940s. Joseph Kosinski has directed his actors to play the characters straight down the middle. There are not a lot of surprises, but the can-do spirit works.

Cruise’s Maverick is a much-decorated pilot but still a captain. For every commendation he has received, overstepping has prevented him from receiving a promotion. While his skills are never in doubt, his problematic behavior towards authority has not so much stalled his career but buried it. At the end of the first film, Maverick requested a position as a Top Gun trainer. He reveals that he only lasted two months.

The older Maverick is low-key but still rebellious, rankling his superiors. Rear Admiral Chester “Hammer” Cain (Ed Harris) tells him, “The future is coming. And you’re not in it.” 

Maverick’s formal rival, “Iceman” (Val Kilmer), now commander of the U.S. Pacific Fleet, has called Maverick back to Top Gun. (Except for Cruise, Kilmer is the only holdover from the first film. He has a single scene where he mostly communicates by typing as the admiral has throat cancer.) The mission is to take out a rogue state’s uranium enrichment plant before it opens. Surface-to-air missiles and skilled fighter pilots protect the canyon. The only way to bomb the plant is to literally fly under the radar in a demanding, dangerous mission.

Vice Admiral Beau “Cyclone” Simpson (John Hamm) and Rear Admiral Solomon “Warlock” Bates (Charles Parnell) have gathered an elite group of fighter pilots for Maverick to train.

The plot is simple, with the sole complication that one of the pilots, Lt. Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, is the son of Maverick’s former radar intercept officer and best friend, Nick “Goose” Bradshaw (Anthony Edwards in Top Gun). While cleared of the responsibility for his pal’s death, Maverick still carries guilt, and he reveals that at the request of Goose’s widow (now dead—Meg Ryan in the earlier film), he has done everything to prevent Rooster from flying. Eventually, Maverick and Rooster come to terms with their joined histories.

A minor romantic subplot involves Maverick and a bar owner, Penny Benjamin (Jennifer Connelly), but it generates little heat or interest.

The film’s two driving forces are Cruise and the mission. Both Cruise and Maverick have aged well, and the general lack of arrogance makes for a watchable experience. As the writing is focused, the technical details are clear. The actors lean into the physical demands and challenges of the flying and the mantra that “It’s not the plane. It’s the pilot.” The cavalier comment in Top Gun—“A need for speed”—here actually makes sense. Everything builds up to a spectacular final act, with the operation beautifully orchestrated with the right amount of suspense and a couple of twists that help keep it interesting. The faceless, but ominous enemy, is smartly handled.

Top Gun: Maverick’s major song, Lady Gaga’s “Hold My Hand,” plays over the credits. It is an appropriate metaphor for the film. A bit schmaltzy but also effective, honest, and wholly satisfying.

Rated PG-13, the film is now playing in local theaters.

From left, Harry Hadden-Paton, Laura Carmichael, Tuppence Middleton and Allen Leech in a scene from the film. Photo courtesy of Focus Features

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

In 2015, the landmark television series Downton Abbey ended its six-season run. Four years later, Downton Abbey arrived on the big screen (reviewed in this paper in September 2019). Set in 1927, the story focused on a visit from King George V and Queen Mary. While the film lacked the weight and depth of the series, it was a satisfactory outing for Crawley fans, featuring almost the entire roster of principals. 

After several delays in release, Downton Abbey 2, rechristened Downton Abbey: A New Era, arrives. Picking up one year later, the film opens with the wedding of former chauffeur Tom Branson (Allen Leech) to Lucy (Tuppence Middleton), the illegitimate child of Lady Bagshaw (Imelda Staunton). The scene serves as a reverse curtain call of the entire cast—both upstairs and down. 

A New Era weaves two unrelated plots. In one, the Dowager Countess (Maggie Smith) has inherited a villa in the south of France, left to her by a possible former paramour, the late Marquis de Montmirail. While the Dowager is too ill to travel, members of the household journey to meet the man’s irate widow (Nathalie Baye) and welcoming son (Jonathan Zaccaï). Here, questions arise regarding the Earl of Grantham’s (Hugh Bonneville) birth.

Meanwhile, in need of a cash influx, the family leases Downton to a film company. Lady Mary takes charge of the endeavor, dealing with the director (Hugh Dancy), who, in traditional Downton fashion, falls in love with her. The undertaking is made more difficult by its beautiful but crass leading lady (Laura Haddock), coupled with the reality that silent films are dying.

The plots serve to put the characters in action but do little more. However, they offer a reminder that the Downton universe revolves around property—acquisition, ownership, and maintenance. Beginning with Episode One, Downton Abbey was driven by the issue of entailment and succession. With this shadow no longer present, the tension is gone. Even the roof repairs seem less dire and more a whacky (and almost desperate) way to introduce a screwball element. There is something tamped down in the emergency.

The simplistic arcs are predictable and provide opportunities for glorious scenery and occasionally sitcom exchanges. There are many jokes at the expense of the film industry and the French, but the barbs are benign. The film is liberally sprinkled with minor subplots involving a peppering of romance and domestic frustrations, but these function to give the less active characters a bit of screen time. 

Ultimately, the problem at the core of both films is that the characters have matured. They no longer have the life-and-death conflicts that shook their worlds and forced them to look outward and inward. The entire clan has become not just better people but their best selves. The often dangerous and destructive relationship that fueled the conflict between Lady Mary and her sister, Lady Edith (Laura Carmichael), no longer exists. If they are not best friends, they are as close as possible. 

Even the usually destructive Barrow (Robert James-Collier) has become a more benevolent soul. Happiness is not bad, but it is not the furnace that heats a story. The roadblocks and hurdles are minor; the experience is almost tacit. The culmination of emotional growth is not necessarily the best dramatic force.

Because of this, the first two-thirds of the film are composed of brief scenes (sometimes as short as two or three lines), jumping from place to place and from one set of characters to another, allowing for barely a breath. The frantic, frenetic, and often whimsical quality has a Muppets Take Downton Abbey feel.

Strangely though, these are minor cavils. Watching A New Era—which is an improvement on the first—reminds us of the journey taken. The actors are uniformly true to the characters who have aged and seem appropriately worse for wear. The delicacy and honesty of the performances echo a world created over many years. The final act allows the characters to breathe. Even in the most contrived situations, the company is incapable of a wrong or false note.

In one of the most beautiful scenes, Isobel (Penelope Wilton) and the Dowager (Smith) reflect on their history, reminding us how these longtime adversaries developed a deep bond. This is the film—and Downton—at its best.

Many loose threads are tied up, providing closure. But the ending also honors the circle of life, composed of births and weddings, illnesses and deaths. 

It would be a safe bet that there will be a Downton Abbey 3, probably dealing with the problematic situation in Lady Mary’s marriage to racing fanatic Henry Talbot (absent from the film as actor Matthew Goode had production conflicts). In addition, societal changes, financial challenges, and global conflict will likely offer myriad opportunities. And while nothing will take us back to the height of Downton Abbey, we will gladly join the Crawleys as they move forward.

Rated PG, the film is now playing in local theaters.

Jim Broadbent and Neal Barry in a scene from the film. Photo courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

In 1961, London’s National Gallery acquired Francisco de Goya’s early nineteenth century The Portrait of the Duke of Wellington. Valued at £140,000, the work was stolen on August 21, just nineteen days later. Falling into the “this is too far-fetched to be true,” the culprit was revealed as sixty-one-year-old Kempton Bunton, a taxi driver from Newcastle Upon Tyne (located in the northeast of England). Brought to life in The Duke, the film marks the final work of director Roger Michell (Notting Hill), who passed away in September 2021.

According to Bunton’s grandson, Chris, the screenplay takes very few liberties with the actual story and reflects his grandfather’s character—though the real Kempton was not as warm as his screen counterpart. Jim Broadbent fully inhabits Kempton Bunton, whose campaign against pensioners having to pay for a television license leads him to theft.

Two approaches could have been taken to tell this fascinating story. The first would have been a dark and serious exploration of the common man railing against the system (think auteur Mike Lee’s grittiness crossed with screenwriter Jack Rosenthal’s realism).

Jim Broadbent and Helen Mirren in a scene from the film. Photo courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics

Or in contrast, the creators could have selected a more whimsical approach in the vein of the Ealing Studio comedies (those that featured character men such as Alec Guinness and Peter Sellers). Writers Richard Bean and Clive Coleman have opted for the latter, with the result being an engaging mix of old-fashioned caper with a sensitive and touching underpinning.

The film opens with Kempton on trial, then flashes back to his earlier tribulations, including a short stint in jail for using a T.V. without the necessary license. An eccentric of the first order, he writes and submits plays that are never produced. In addition, he chatters so much to his cab clients that he loses his job and eventually loses a later position in a bakery for calling out the boss for abusing a Pakistani worker. 

His wife, Dorothy (flawlessly played by Helen Mirren), cleans house and babysits for a local councilor and his wife (Anna Maxwell Martin, finding depth and nobility in a small role). Dorothy finds her husband’s never-ending antics and quixotic crusades overwhelming and perpetually frustrating. A shadow separates the couple: the death of their eighteen-year-old daughter in a bicycle accident a dozen years earlier. Kempton battles for the greater good of humanity but is often oblivious to his wife’s pain.

Jim Broadbent in a scene from the film. Photo courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics

Their adult children include a supportive, good son, Jackie (a likable Fionn Whitehead), who dreams of being a shipbuilder, and the prodigal, Kenny (a surprisingly likable quasi-hoodlum played by Jack Bandeira). Kenny, along with his recently separated girlfriend, Pammy (Charlotte Spencer, wonderfully amoral and ambivalent), is hiding out with his parents. Pammy’s discovery of the painting stashed behind a false backing in a wardrobe drives the latter part of the story.

The film is brisk and often funny, with shades of Blake Edwards at his best and most focused. Split screens, Mike Eley’s spot-on cinematography, and a jazzy score by George Fenton complete the 1960s feel. 

Broadbent is in his element, whether trying to get petition signatures, struggling with his writing, going against a racist, or being delightfully honest when questioned in the dock. He easily nuances the performance without losing the broader comic strokes. His scenes with the always brilliant Mirren reveal a troubled but enduring marriage of two unlike but equal souls. 

Matthew Goode (Downton Abbey’s Henry Talbot, Lady Mary’s second husband) charms as Kempton’s barrister, Jeremy Hutchinson, in turn bemused and delighted by his client.

While courtroom scenes can be predictable, Broadbent’s quirky, raw honesty creates a riveting and satisfying climax. Through the wit and clever banter, the message of “I am you, and you are me” resonates. The trial’s outcome, the family struggle, and a surprising revelation make a satisfying resolution to The Duke, an entertaining and touching film. 

Rated R, the film is now playing in local theaters.

Nicolas Cage and Pedro Pascal in a scene from the film. Photo courtesy of Lionsgate Films

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

The informal definition of “meta” (according to Merriam-Webster.com) is “showing or suggesting an explicit awareness of itself or oneself as a member of its category: cleverly self-referential.” No term better describes Nicolas Cage’s The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent. And while it is directed by Tom Gormican, from a screenplay by Gormican and Kevin Etten, Cage is the sole reason. 

Nicolas Cage plays Nicolas Cage—or, at least, a version of Cage. Here, he is a larger-than-life star with a larger-than-life ego. It is hard to say whether this reflects or distorts the actual Cage. However, Cage, one of the busiest and most enigmatic actors, offers a delightful “meta” performance.

Nicolas Cage in a scene from the film. Photo courtesy of Lionsgate Films

The Cage on display in The Unbearable Weight is an ego-centric star just on the cusp of decline. Frantically pursuing a role, he auditions in front of a restaurant as the director attempts to get into his car. There is more than a whiff of desperation as Cage does everything but beg for the part in the upcoming film.

Driven by fiscal problems (he is in arrears to the tune of $600,000 for the apartment he rents), he agrees to attend the birthday party of billionaire playboy Javi Gutierrez (Pedro Pascal), being held on Javi’s compound in Mallorca, Spain. 

While there, CIA agents Vivian (Tiffany Haddish) and Martin (Ike Barinholtz) approach Cage. They inform him that Javi is an arms dealer who has kidnapped a politician’s daughter to drive him out of an upcoming election. The agents enlist the reluctant Cage to aid with the recovery mission.

The plot veers to Hollywood blockbuster. While initially elements nod towards something heightened and outrageous, in the end it is a buddy comedy between Cage and Pascal. There is an attempt to satirize (at least spoof) the genre, but mostly it lands in safe territory. There are funny moments (the wall scene spoiled by every trailer; a viewing of Paddington 2), but many situations seem forced (an acid-tripping scene; the sedative bit).

The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent is at its best when delving into Cage’s psyche and simultaneously mammoth and fragile ego. Several times he is confronted by his younger self. Regrettably, there are only three of these moments, and we are left wondering if there were not more that ended up cut because they were (once again) too “meta.” 

Nicolas Cage and Pedro Pascal in a scene from the film. Photo courtesy of Lionsgate Films

Cage’s ability to put himself in the crosshairs of his own pretension make for the strongest fodder. He often speaks of his acting process—“nouveau shamanic”—and his desire to make a “character-driven adult film.” He struggles with the difference between actor and movie star, perpetually obsessing over his choices. He is not so much oblivious to his daughter, Addy (Lily Sheen), as his energy is misplaced, mistaking his own likes for sharing. His fractious but not unloving relationship with his estranged wife, Olivia (Sharon Horgan), highlights his inability to look beyond his career. He is where doubt and narcissism implode.

Both Sheen and Horgan give fine, understated performances, but they are minor characters on this broader stage. Neil Patrick Harris appears briefly as Cage’s agent, a character that barely has one dimension. The same is true of Alessandra Mastronardi as Gabriela, Javi’s faithful assistant. Paco León, as Javi’s cousin Lucas, is a by-the-numbers hoodlum. Haddish and Barinholtz hit the right notes but have very little to play.

Pascal makes the perfect fanboy who possesses an encyclopedic knowledge of the minutiae of Cage’s career, complete with a trophy room (also spoiled by the trailers). While Javi is eager for Cage to star in the screenplay he has written, the burgeoning bromance drives the character. The plot creaks in fits and starts, and an unfortunate plot twist softens the entire nature of the relationship. But Pascal and Cage have real chemistry and make the more conventional stretches watchable.

The film is an uneasy mix of comedy, abduction thriller, and meta-exploration. If the creators had leaned more into the last (think Being John Malkovich), the result would have been both engaging and surprising. But, in the end, The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent delivers an entertaining parody that does not quite live it up to its greater potential. One suspects that they had a bigger concept and lost their way. Or perhaps, they got spooked thinking that just like the discussion of film within the film, something more esoteric would not play to a general audience. Or, even a greater heresy, sell. 

Rated R, the film is now playing in local theaters.

Alexander Skarsgard and Anya Taylor-Joy star in a scene from the movie "The Northman." Photo courtesy of Focus Features

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

Writer-director Robert Eggers made his feature debut with the slow-burn horror film The Witch (starring Anya Taylor-Joy). He followed this up with the slow-burn horror fantasy The Lighthouse. While audiences had mixed reactions, he received critical acclaim for both. His newest work, The Northman, is his most accessible and certainly most commercial. 

The story begins in 985 AD. Young Prince Amleth’s (Oscar Novak) father, King Aurvandill War-Raven (Ethan Hawke), returns from battle and is murdered by his half-brother, the bastard Fjölnir (Claes Bang). Fjölnir takes the throne and abducts Aurvandill’s queen, Gudrún (Nicole Kidman). 

If the plot sounds vaguely familiar, there is no surprise as it draws from the same source as Hamlet. Shakespeare derived his play from the legend of Amleth, preserved by the 13th-century chronicler Saxo Grammaticus in Gesta Danorum and retold in the 16th century by François de Belleforest.

And while the two works share DNA, tonally and stylistically, they are opposing forces. The Northman is a film of great violence and fewer words. Eggers relies on strong and effective visuals rather than dialogue to tell his story. The screenplay (written in collaboration with the Icelandic poet, novelist, and lyricist Sjón) presents a universe of blood and blood oaths, visions and vengeance. Amleth repeats, “I will avenge you, Father. I will save you, Mother. I will kill you, Fjölnir.” This litany becomes the watch cry of the adult Amleth (Alexander Skarsgård), whose sole purpose is to right this wrong. 

After witnessing his father’s murder,  Amleth flees. Vikings find the boy and raise him as a berserker. Years later, following a brutal Viking attack in the land of Rus, a seeress (Björk) tells the now grown Amleth he will soon have his revenge. Amleth learns that soon after the betrayal, Fjölnir was ousted. Amleth has himself branded a slave and sent to his uncle’s pastoral exile. 

While being transported, he connects with Olga (Anya Taylor-Joy), a Slavic sorceress also captured in Rus. They form an alliance that becomes a bond. Eventually, she tells him, “You have the strength to break their bones; I have the cunning to break their minds.” On the Icelandic farm, Amleth discovers that his mother became Fjölnir’s wife and bore him a son, Gunnar (Elliot Rose).

The Northman is steeped in death—by arrow, axe, spear, knife, and sword. The savagery extends to slaughter, rape, and slavery. Eggers never shies from the perpetual devastation, embracing the primal existence. His hero is not the indecisive Hamlet but a warrior with a monomaniacal purpose.

Cinematically, the film is compelling and moves along, but always at the same brisk pace, both the film’s strength and weakness. The Northman never becomes “more than.” The characters never surprise because their actions alone define them, no less but no more. As they must live moment to moment, they are not individuals of nuance or subtlety, reflecting this unyielding world.

The cast uniformly delivers, but there are few complicated arcs because there is no subtext. The exception to this is Kidman’s queen, whose revelations shock Amleth. Kidman gives an unbridled and ferocious performance. 

Skarsgård manages to find different if limited shades, but Amleth’s almost unwavering focus does not provide a great number of opportunities. He states later in the story, “Hate is all I have ever known. I wish I could be free of it.” Taylor-Joy (best known for her outstanding performance in The Queen’s Gambit) mines the limited role for as much variety as possible. 

There are a few odd elements in an otherwise consistent realm. The accents seem to be rooted in some “once-upon-an-oldie-timey.” The CGI ravens that rescue Amleth seem out of step with Eggers’ hyper-reality. And in a world of dirt and mud, Olga manages to keep her nearly white dress and blonde tresses immaculate. While this could be symbolic, it is jarring.

Eggers’s attention to detail is the driving force that climaxes with a sword fight on the side of a volcano. Whether he is showing an attack, a close-up of a brooding Skarsgård calculating his next step, or drug-induced prophecies, Eggers offers a raw and brutal world in this predictable but powerful film. 

Rated R, The Northman is now playing in local theaters.