CLOSE
Tags Posts tagged with "Jeffrey Sanzel"

Jeffrey Sanzel

by -
0 2186
Dev Patel stars as David Copperfield in latest adaptation. Photo courtesy of Searchlight Pictures
A joyous new vision of a Dickens classic

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

“Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show.” — the opening lines of Charles Dickens’ The Personal History of David Copperfield

After Shakespeare (and perhaps J.K. Rowling), Charles Dickens is the most famous writer in the English language. His major works include Oliver Twist, Great Expectations, A Tale of Two Cities, Bleak House, and A Christmas Carol, with hundreds of stage, screen, and television adaptations.

Charles Dickens began crafting his autobiography in the late 1840s. But he found the writing too painful and burned what he had written. He then fictionalized many of his personal experiences for what became David Copperfield. It is Dickens’ premiere work told in the first person (and note that David Copperfield’s initials are Charles Dickens’ backward, suggesting a reflection of the author himself).

From left, Tilda Swinton, Dev Patel, Hugh Laurie and Rosalind Eleazar in a scene from the film.
Photo courtesy of Searchlight Pictures

The Personal History of David Copperfield was published in monthly installments, serialized from 1849 to 1850, and then brought out in book form. Dickens’ longest work, Copperfield is rich in plot and contains close to one hundred characters. It is an incredible journey, full of adventure, but it is also about mastering one’s fate, growing from passive child to self-aware adult. Young David is acted upon; adult David is a figure who has taken control of his own life.

The cinematic history includes three silent and over a half dozen others. The most notable is the two-part BBC television version (1999) featuring an extraordinary cast, with Danielle Radcliffe as young David, Bob Hoskins as Mr. Micawber, and Maggie Smith as Aunt Betsey. 

The newest incarnation is a unique and slightly madcap adaptation. Directed by Armando Iannucci, from a screenplay by Iannucci and Simon Blackwell, it condenses the epic novel into a brisk, laugh-out-loud, and always heartfelt two hours. The choices are often wild and surprising, but no moment, no matter how peculiar, departs from the vision’s integrity.

The film opens with David Copperfield (a mesmerizing Dev Patel, reinventing the role) reading his book to a packed theatre. But is it David or Charles Dickens? Ultimately, it is both. He states the first two lines and then literally steps into the story, being present at his own birth. 

Baby David’s arrival coincides with the appearance of his late father’s aunt, Betsey Trotwood (impeccably played by Tilda Swinton, swanning through the story like a cross between a tornado and neurotic albatross). She declares herself the child’s godmother, leaving when presented with a boy and not the girl she was demanding. It is a comic rollercoaster of a scene, tumultuous and culminating with Betsey exiting in high dudgeon. And so begins David’s life. 

Young David (Jairaj Varsani, a child performer of exceptional skill) has an idyllic childhood. He is loved by a doting mother (the delicate and sweet Morfydd Clark) and his even more attentive nursemaid Peggotty (genuine warmth and personal proverbs as played by Daisy May Cooper). The peace is shattered by his mother’s remarriage to Edward Murdstone (terrifying in Darren Boyd’s cold-eyed villainy). Murdstone’s abuse of David begins the cycle of flux that he will face for the rest of his life. He gains, then loses, then recovers, only to lose again.

Eschewing the boarding school section, David is banished to the blacking factory, sentenced to work in miserable conditions. This pivotal juncture is taken directly from the darkest chapter of Dickens’ childhood, one he kept secret his entire life. David boards with penurious Micawber (Peter Capaldi, artfully blending the kind and the con) and his ever-growing family. It seems that every time David meets up with the Micawber family, they have added a baby to the ever-expanding brood. 

Dev Patel and Morfydd Clark. Photo courtesy of Searchlight Pictures

Micawber and his wife (bubbling and bug-eyed Bronagh Gallagher) are hunted and haunted by creditors, much like Dickens’s own father: Both the Micawbers and Dickens’ parents wound up in debtors’ prison. The Micawbers are Dickens’ gentle depiction of his parents, for whom he bore a life-long grudge due to his exile to the blacking factory. Later, Capaldi is pathetically outrageous as Micawber attempts — and fails — to teach a Latin lesson.

Unlike in the novel, the factory sequence shows David’s transition from boy to man. When Murdstone informs him of his mother’s death, David’s reaction is violent, more reminiscent of Nicholas Nickleby beating the schoolmaster than the always put-upon and long-suffering David Copperfield. Iannucci’s vision is self-actualized and capable of independence. 

David walks from London to Dover, seeking sanctuary with his Aunt Betsey. Even under duress, he aids Betsey’s lodger, the eccentric Mr. Dick (heart-breaking and hilarious Hugh Laurie, a man with the delusion that the decapitated King Charles I’s thoughts have been placed in his head). 

In the bosom of his remaining family, David thrives (for a while). There is romance and adventure, complications and resolutions. The film handles them with quick turns, ranging from near-slapstick to deep introspection. The narrative is rich in whimsy but doesn’t avoid the darkness. The characters retain the vivid character traits endowed by Dickens but are enriched with inner lives. 

David’s creativity is highlighted, even as a young child. He spins yarns and draws sketches, heralding the great writer. Like Dickens, he jots down unusual phrases and collects the people in his life, developing them in the mirror.

There is a meta-cinematic quality about the film, often breaking (and literally tearing) the fourth wall to allow the characters to observe or even flow into other scenes. The film’s colors are lush and rich, leaning towards childhood fantasy, but can quickly shift to somber shades. As a child, the seaside town of Yarmouth was a place of storybook magic; when David returns, it is a place of shadows.

In addition to the previously mentioned cast members, note should be made of Rosalind Eleazar, who makes the intolerably insipid Agnes Wickfield a strong, likable foil for the maturing David. Clark, who plays young David’s mother, Clara, doubles beautifully as David’s love interest Dora Spenlow — endearing, exhausting, and empty-headed. Uriah Heep, usually much oilier and damp in his “umble” sycophancy, is more dangerous in Ben Whishaw’s performance. Paul Whitehouse’s Mr. Peggotty is appropriately paternal; Benedict Wong brings tannic notes to the dissipated Mr. Wickfield. 

Whether it is colorblind or color-conscious, casting director Sarah Crowe has perfectly gathered an enormous, multi-racial company, flawless from Dev Patel’s dimensional, delightful David to Scampi, who plays Dora’s dog Jip.

While Iannucci takes liberties with much of the novel, most notably in the latter half’s rushed solution, this Copperfield celebrates the original by transcending it. The film culminates with a catharsis rooted in hope. Perhaps purists would lean towards the more complete and faithful 1999 version, but in the spirit and the sense of joy, the new David Copperfield is wholly satisfying.

Rated PG, the film is now streaming on Amazon Prime Video.

by -
0 1304
Margaret Qualley stars in Joanna Rakoff's memoir

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

Joanna Rakoff’s 2014 memoir My Salinger Year joins The Devil Wears Prada and The Nanny Diaries as veiled paeans to victimhood. In 1996, young Joanna, having just acquired a bachelor’s degree in English, goes to work for a prestigious literary agency. She learns to stand up for herself and moves on, with lessons learned and head held high. 

Sigourney Weaver and Qualley in a scene from the film.

The boss (called the Boss in the book and Margaret in the film) is not a demon on the level of Prada’s Amanda Priestly. Rather, she is an eccentric holdover from an earlier era, maintaining a kingdom locked in the 1950s. Think of her as the Boss from Heck. All employees must use typewriters, with a single computer introduced to track copyright violations. The agency dwells in the world of martini lunches and name-dropping its most prestigious — and mostly dead — clients: Dylan Thomas, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Agatha Christine, and, of course, J.D. Salinger. Salinger is the jewel in the agency’s crown. The organization is responsible for all his literary business and for dealing with the thousands of fan letters that have steadily arrived for decades.

The book emphasizes Joanna’s fears, with the earlier part of the work written in a tightly wound, almost neurotic prose, coming out and fits and starts. As she matures, so does the relating of her story.

Turning a book about the love of books, writing, and writers into a film is challenging. To show the passion for the written word in a cinematic setting has myriad pitfalls. The tone is either lost or shifted. What is often simple and honest is forced to take on a more melodramatic tone. 

The film My Salinger Year balances its faith to the source and the need for a more cinematic-friendly narrative. Joanna’s personal life is simplified, focusing on her decision not to return to Berkley to join her long-term boyfriend and to remain in New York. She quickly becomes involved with Don, a wannabe novelist who works part-time in a socialist bookstore. A few years older and a complete narcissist, Don goes from supportive to condescending to emotionally destructive. 

Assistants in the literary world believe that they will be reading brilliant manuscripts and use the contacts and opportunity to fulfill their ambitions. In Joanna’s case, she has had two poems published in The Paris Review and has her heart and sights set on The New Yorker. 

Much to her chagrin, Joanna is relegated to secretary, transcribing Margaret’s letters from Dictaphone tapes. Joanna is also assigned the form letter — dating from 1963 — that is the only approved answer to any mail sent to Salinger. The letter states that Salinger does not correspond. Eventually, Joanna takes it on herself to respond personally, with varying degrees of success and disaster. In the film, a disgruntled high school girl arrives in person to castigate Joanna. In the book, it is all done via post.

Margaret Qualley stars in Joanna Rakoff’s memoir

The main action focuses on Salinger wanting to publish one of his old magazine stories, “Hapsworth,” in a stand-alone volume, printed by a small press in Virginia. Salinger expects his exact specifications to be adhered to, with no surrounding publicity for the tome’s release. The book and the film take two completely divergent paths to this event.

Joanna connects with Salinger during his occasional phone calls, and he encourages her to write every day. And Joanna, who had never read any of Salinger’s works — “What I imagined Salinger to be: insufferably cute, aggressively quirky, precious” — reads and understands their power and value.

Margaret Qualley’s Joanna is fully-realized, finding the humor and the strength in creating a dimensional character. She is never maudlin or self-indulgent and appears to be taking in everything around her. Qualley makes Joanna’s watching watchable. Her falling for Don (appropriately pretentious and self-involved as played by Douglas Booth) is wholly believable. Her actions speak to someone seeking adventure. Her gradual awareness of his cruelty is painful and truthful. 

Sigourney Weaver plays Margaret with the grandeur of someone living in a different era. A cigarette constantly in hand, she can be both deliberately and casually cruel. After a terrible loss, she leans into the brittleness of the boss’s crumbling foundation. Weaver also makes Margaret utterly unpredictable, lending both tension and relief in turn.

Colm Feore has a small but pivotal role as Margaret’s partner, slightly built up from a character only mentioned in the book. His spritely and delicate presence provides contrast to Weaver’s often harsh callousness. 

Almost Dickensian denizens populate the office. Brían F. O’Byrne’s Hugh deals with the contracts but is also the kindest and most interested in Joanna. Yanic Truesdale, as Max, brings the right energy to the partner who wants the agency to move forward. Leni Parker embodies the office manager, Pam, who is completely devoted to the antique ways and the old guard. Théodore Pellerin, as Boy from Winston-Salem, has the right blend of edge and sadness as Joanna’s imaginary confidant. Tim Post, only glimpsed, provides kindness in the voice of J.D. Salinger.

Writer-director Philip Falardeau has mostly succeeded in creating a film that honors the book’s spirit but finds interesting ways to present some of the more introspective moments. Wisely, he allows Joanna to express her thoughts in voiceover or directly to the camera. Also, instead of Joanna reading the letters, he shows the fans in their environments, having them communicate directly with Joanna. The further she goes into the letters, the more present they become. It is a device that has been seen elsewhere but is used effectively and to good purpose.

Where the film is weakest is in a tendency to veer towards the saccharine. It often tries too hard to make a point about the humanity of a character, rather than letting the actions speak for themselves. There is a grating fantasy dance sequence that only confuses. An infuriating bit of business with a fan letter contradicts all the established norms — and flies in everything the book professes. These liberties are annoying but do not eradicate the film’s overall integrity.

My Salinger Year is an engaging if uneven portrait of the ability to transform. Occasionally, its predictability undermines its own spark. But, in the end, it celebrates the love of the written word, brought to life with a strong cast and a creative eye. Rated R, the film is now streaming on demand.

Photos courtesy of IFC Films

by -
0 736
1 of 7
Airmen in the 332nd Fighter Group
A member of the Women’s Auxiliary Ferrying Squadron exiting a fighter plane
Women Army Corps members exiting a training shack in gas masks
A propaganda poster
A propaganda poster
Bund picture
Bethpage-made fighter planes in the air

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

In his new book, World War II Long Island: The Homefront in Nassau and Suffolk (The History Press), author Christopher Verga presents a detailed but succinct look at the titular era. He has written a powerful and informative tome that represents the community in all its strengths and flaws. Wisely, he brings a keen twenty-first-century eye to address social inequality issues, giving the book a deep resonance. He demands that the reader reflects on what has and has not changed in the past eighty years.

Author Christopher Verga

The book opens with pre-World War II Long Island. Unlike many works that create a picture of idyllic and often pastoral life, he shows the attitude towards the outside world: 

“Similar to other small agricultural areas of the time, both counties had an isolationist mentality toward New York City, immigration, and foreign affairs …” He explains this as reflexive to the losses in World War I as well as the Spanish Flu pandemic. 

In this time, Long Island faced a recession and a labor glut. There was also an influx of Italian, Jewish, Eastern European immigrants, and myriad African-Americans fleeing the south, all looking for jobs. This increase in the non-native population created unrest and the rise of the Ku Klux Klan’s membership and power. Add to this the stock market crash of 1929 and the hurricane of 1938 (which did major property damage and destruction to the oyster beds). The result was a depressed and divided Long Island.

While the prologue offers a bleak introduction, the book proceeds to show the major transitions that allowed Long Island to flourish during World War II and beyond.

One of the uniting forces was the enemy from without. The potential for economic growth via wartime manufacturing enhanced the outlook. “Within a few short years, aircraft manufacturers had an exclusive customer with a blank check: the government.” Of course, the boon came with many problems, including poor background checks and security clearances. He shows the frightening ease of military infiltration by German and German-American spies: two major German spy rings infiltrated the system. 

He also gives one of the clearest explanations of the rise of the German-American Bund. Verga has unearthed exceptional photos of Camp Siegfried, with its Nazi banners and crowds of Nazi sympathizers, dressed in their para-military uniforms. Again, contemporary events live in the shadow of this organization’s white supremacist mentality and the KKK.

Much of the book covers the shift that came with the bombing of Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. The attack spurred civilian involvement along with unification behind the war effort. He documents the early failures and gradual shift to competency in air raid drills across the Island. This example also emphasizes the growing cooperation between the military and non-military populations. 

The war provided many small-town young men with an opportunity to embark on what they saw as an adventure. Leaving their lives of fishing, farming, and small-scale shops, they volunteered for service. And while there was the chance for new opportunities, most were fulfilling what they saw as their patriotic duty. The author has multiple accounts of families where all of the sons went off to war, and many did not return.

Amazingly, Verga covers an impressive quantity of material in this slim volume. There are anecdotes of famous generals along with first-hand accounts of soldiers who came from Long Island. He deals with anti-Italian biases before and throughout the war and writes of training in high schools and beyond. He includes the draft board scandals. He focuses not just on the manufacturing success but also the factories’ dangers to the workforce. The various military bases are explained in their use during the war and after. In his dissection of rationing and war bonds, he doesn’t just emphasize the nationalistic view but also discusses people circumventing the rules and the illegal gas stamp rings.

A unique section focuses on the contrast of German POWs’ humane treatment in the States instead of American POWs’ brutal, destructive treatment in Germany. He also shares the local backlash with the German’s use as the labor force on farms and other businesses.

The author shows women in the workforce and the rise of the WAC (Women’s Army Corp) and its offshoots. He explains the stigma and false accusations surrounding women in service, an important point rarely taken up in the war’s history. He also chronicles women losing their place at the end of the war. 

Racial injustice receives the boldest accusations. From the segregated military units to the refusal to sell housing to Black veterans, Verga gives numerous examples of Long Island’s divide. Again, his use of history mirrors many current challenges.

In each chapter, Verga provides the larger national picture juxtaposed with events and facts specific to Long Island. His research is meticulous, with a complete command of dates and specific and enlightening statistics. There is a wealth of photos and documents that enhance the text. But he never loses sight of the humanity of the story he is relating. He consistently paints a portrait of men and women in action: a time of fear but of great patriotism. 

Verga presents a balanced picture of a complicated era. He suggests that negative actions were the exception, and most of Long Island reflected the overall country doing its civic duty.

Christopher Verga’s World War II Long Island is a rich, textured, and honest account. The book reports on a complex time with great depth, sensitivity, and originality. It makes for a rewarding read for both students of history and any inquiring mind.

Author Christopher Verga is an instructor of Long Island history and on the foundations of American history at Suffolk Community College, as well as a contributor to the online local news sites Greater Babylon, Greater Bay Shore and Greater Patchogue. His published works include Images of America: Civil Rights Movement on Long Island, Images of America: Bay Shore and Saving Fire Island from Robert Moses. Verga has his educational doctorate from St John’s University. His dissertation work included Long Island Native Americans and the impact of tribal recognition within their cultural identity. 

World War II Long Island is available at Book Revue in Huntington (www.bookrevue.com), at Barnes and Noble bookstores and on Amazon.

by -
0 701

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

Eddie Murphy is one of America’s most successful performers. He began his career in stand-up comedy, and he followed this with a memorable stint on Saturday Night Live. His film work has included some of the most iconic comedic movies of the 80s: 48 Hrs., Trading Places, Beverly Hills Cop, and Coming to America.

Coming to America (1988) starred Murphy as Akeem Joffer, the Crown Prince of the African nation of Zamunda. On his twenty-first birthday, he decides that instead of a prearranged marriage, he will go to America to find a wife. With a coin flip, he chooses New York and selects Queens as the logical place to seek her out. He falls in love with Lisa Macdowell (Shari Headley), the oldest daughter of a fast-food restaurant owner (John Amos). 

In addition to his wide-eyed and well-intentioned if slightly oblivious royal, Murphy and co-star Arsenio Hall each played another three supporting roles. The film was funny, raunchy, and a huge hit. While critical response was mixed, it was a financial success. Coming to America was Paramount’s highest-earning film and the third-highest-grossing film in United States box office. Its worldwide total is estimated as high as $350 million. (It is Eddie Murphy’s eighth highest-grossing film.)

Thirty years is a longtime to wait for a sequel: Coming 2 America. It is directed by Craig Brewer, with a screenplay by Kenya Barris, Barry W. Blaustein, and David Sheffield, from a story by Blaustein, Sheffield, and Justin Kanew, based on characters created by Eddie Murphy. Many cooks created a fairly thin broth.

The King (James Earl Jones) is dying, and Akeem will succeed him. By the country’s law, the succession may only pass onto a male heir. Revealed is that while accidentally high, Akeem had a one-night stand with Mary Junson (Leslie Jones) before meeting Lisa (Headley) and fathered a son, Lavelle (Jermaine Fowler). Akeem and Semmi (Hall) return to New York and bring Lavelle and Mary back to Zamunda. Akeem plans to train Lavelle as the crown prince. Shortly after, Lavelle sends for Mary’s brother, his Uncle Reem (Tracy Morgan). 

Meanwhile, Zamunda faces a threat from its militaristic neighbor Nextdoria, ruled by dictator General Izzi (Wesley Snipes). Izzi is the older brother of Imani (Vanessa Bell Calloway), who Akeem jilted in the first film. Upon discovery that Akeem has a successor, the General wants Lavelle to marry his daughter Bopoto (Teyana Taylor). All of this frustrates Akeem’s capable eldest daughter, Princess Meeka (KiKi Layne), who aspires to run the kingdom. While being trained as a prince, Lavelle falls in love with his no-nonsense royal groomer Mirembe (Nomzamo Mbatha).

Coming 2 America is a mirror image of the first film — another fish-out-of-water comedy but in reverse. Instead of a prince lost in the modern American chaos, it is an urban American transplant struggling in Africa’s royal wilds. Most humor dwells in low-hanging fruit, trading on vulgar jokes, rehashing some of the funnier bits from the first film, and the occasional meta-jab (for example, a shot at sequels). 

Leslie Jones is saddled with the most obvious lines: When told that what she thinks are black mashed potatoes is caviar, she turns to Lavelle and says, “You have a cousin named Caviar.” The return to the barbershop with Murphy and Hall reprising their roles is a portrait of political incorrectness. This would be fine if used to make a statement of some kind; instead, it is a way to shoehorn the old jokes. Hall’s predatory minister, Reverend Brown, falls into the same category: a retread with no reward. The film even stoops to a circumcision joke.

Worse, the threat of war with Nextoria is hardly benign but a bizarre attempt is made to play it for laughs. But the guns, the soldiers, and the violence are very real.

The movie has a few strong moments. One of the best scenes involves a job interview. Lavelle comes into direct conflict with white privilege, embodied by Mr. Duke (Colin Jost). The scene is genuinely funny—Lavelle uses his “white voice” to attempt to secure a position for which he is qualified but under-educated. The encounter reflects Lavelle’s day-to-day challenges. It helps that Fowler has an easy charm and is genuinely likable. His strut is a thin mask for a good young man who wants to grow into a better adult. He never severs his connection to his Queens roots but is open to what Zamunda has to offer. Fowler owns his hero’s journey.

Eddie Murphy is no longer the innocent but self-actualized prince. However, it hasn’t been replaced with any true self-awareness until far too late in the story. His prince was a master of his fate; his king plays more as a sitcom husband who seems constantly perplexed by everything around him. Is this a function of three decades away from the role? Or from indecision in the writing? Either way, while central to the film, his energy is intermittent, and his presence is almost secondary.

The same problem could be said of Headley’s Lisa, who was so wonderfully strong. Here, she seems lost, neither queen nor commoner. The writers use the simplistic device of getting her drunk so that she may speak her inner voice. 

Hall gives the same reliable performance and has not appeared to have aged at all He, like Fowler, has an inherent likability. He has less to do with seemingly lower stakes, but he makes the most of his screen time.

Both Jones and Morgan have the same material they’ve been given elsewhere but usually better crafted. As they have cornered the particular brand of humor, their laughs come easily but their sources are uninspired. In contrast, Layne and Mbatha play it straight and come out with dignity if no laughs.

Perhaps best of all is Wesley Snipes’ psychotic General. Entering in increasingly outrageous military garb, he seems to be having a grand time chewing the scenery and taking Izzi to the extreme. It is a departure from his usual portrayals, and he makes him both hilarious and dangerous.

John Amos and Louie Anderson return in their roles from the first film, but it feels like they’re trotted out more for the nostalgia than for what they can add to the story. There is a wide range of cameos, including Morgan Freeman, En Vogue, Salt-N-Pepa, and Gladys Knight. Murphy’s daughter, Bella, plays the middle princess.

Visually, the film is striking. Ruth E. Carter’s extraordinary costumes match Jefferson Sage’s rich production design. Fatima Robinson’s choreography is joyously athletic. 

The film tries to make some feminist statements, but it gets wobbly when entering this territory. Throughout, it vaguely hints around it but doesn’t fully address the idea until the end when it also introduces the idea of finding one’s destiny. The writers want to cover all their bases and give short shrift to the value of both concepts.

Sadly, Coming 2 America is a sequel that so many wanted, and so few will find satisfying.

Rated PG-13, the movie is currently streaming on Amazon Prime Video

Photos courtesy of Amazon Studios

 

by -
0 1192
Henry Golding in a scene from 'Monsoon'. Photo courtesy of Dat Vu

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

Writer-director Hong Khaou made his feature film debut with the critically acclaimed drama Lilting. It is the story of a mother’s grief after her son’s untimely passing, along with her attempts to communicate with her son’s lover, even though they don’t speak the same language. His beautiful sophomore outing, Monsoon, focuses on a different kind of loss and addresses the barrier not just of language but also of culture.

The film opens with a bird’s eye view of traffic, with cars and motorbikes flowing in and around each other, paying no heed to lights or lines. This world is a strangely organized chaos into which Kit (Crazy Rich Asian’s Henry Golding) steps. 

Parker Sawyers and Henry Golding in a scene from the film.

Kit has traveled to Vietnam, having left at the age of six. His family had escaped and sought refuge in England after the Vietnam War, and now he has returned to scatter his parents’ ashes. The plot is simple, but his burden runs deep: Thirty years later, he realizes that he no longer feels a part of his home country. He is incapable of speaking his native language and does not recognize so much of the changing landscape.

Along the way, he reconnects with a childhood friend, Lee (David Tran), whose happiness to see him is muted by wariness. Lee reveals that Kit’s mother had lent Lee’s family money to set up a small business. Lee is afraid that Kit will ask for a repayment of what Lee perceived as a loan. While trying to find his bearings, Kit’s one-night internet hookup with an American entrepreneur, Lewis (Parker Sawyers), turns into a romance. 

Kit decides that he doesn’t want to bury his parents’ ashes in the Saigon family home because it seems on the verge of being torn down. So, he ventures to Hanoi, his parents’ birthplace. He takes the thirty-eight-hour train trip to see if it would be a more appropriate resting place. On the train, he briefly encounters a traveling Frenchman, Stephane (Edouard Leo), who mistakes him for a native. Once again, Kit feels that he is a man out-of-place. (Whether or not they hook up is left open-ended.) 

The film consistently shows and does not tell with moments of tempered joy. Lee brings Kit to the location of the pond where they used to play. Long gone, now it is the site of a half-finished building, with stacks of bricks and scaffolding. And yet, there is a faint glint of happiness in Kit’s eyes as he remembers the bridge that spanned the pond. It is a small moment and shows a modicum of hope.

A scene from the film.

He strikes up a friendship with Linh (Molly Harris), a curator/guide who gives Hanoi’s art tours. She brings him to her family home, where he partakes in the scenting of lotus tea, her family’s business for generations. It is a scene of great charm and simplicity and one that gives Kit another opportunity of belonging.

Monsoon is an intimate movie. It is about inward reflection and searches for identity. Much of the film watches Kit try to take in the new Vietnam to understand his roots. Across from his upscale hotel are barely livable shacks. Great wealth lives side-by-side with crushing poverty. Kit stands in the center of this whirling metropolis — in the eye of the storm. He feels the pulsing of the city in all its relentless intensity. The story is more episodic than linear, a series of experiences where Kit tries to bring past and present together. 

For much of the film, the dialogue is minimal; the narrative relies upon Kit’s reactions. It is a quiet film but not told in silence. There is the constant cityscape of noise and traffic that underscores almost every moment.

Monsoon only touches on the Vietnam War, but it is always looming. Lee speaks of it and its devastating aftermath but does so in hushed and tacit tones. Lewis shares his father’s eighteen months in the War and twenty confirmed kills. Years later, he committed suicide. Whether these two things are related is never made clear.

Sawyers makes Lewis likable and slightly enigmatic. His ability to convey his understanding of Kit enriches their relationship. Tran is a bit stiff as Lee, but this could be intentional; he never seems at ease, making his interactions with Kit appropriately uncomfortable. Harris is delightfully outgoing, and her engaging brightness gives energy to her brief scenes.

But the film is entirely Kit’s, and Golding is remarkable. He looks; he walks; he touches; he stops; he explores. Golding makes each moment count. His Kit is complicated, often incredibly warm, and almost absent at the same time. He conveys Kit’s sense of being more tourist than someone returning home, with his refrain, “I hardly recognize this country anymore.” 

Monsoon is not so much a movie of plot or even character. It is more a study of what it is to have lost your roots and the desire to find them again. It is a film of observation and alienation. But it is also a story in which there is a deep and satisfying sense of awakening. While there is no full closure and much is left unanswered, there is a sense that Kit has taken his first steps towards understanding his journey. And, with Monsoon, it is a journey worth taking.

Not rated, Monsoon is currently streaming on demand.

by -
0 861

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

Maureen Spanos’s engrossing debut novel Rainey Days is equal parts suspense and family drama. Spanos has skillfully intertwined the two genres to create an honest and exciting narrative. The action takes place on the eastern end of Long Island, and there are rich details about the suburban and rural areas that create a vivid backdrop. 

At the book’s center is Lorraine Mancini, a young woman just beginning to recover from caring for her terminally ill mother. At the outset, Lorraine is a melding of hope and resignation. As she begins to settle into some sense of normalcy, her half-brother Troy is released from prison and invades her life. 

Troy’s presence has always been a negative force, and incarceration has made him both bitter and dangerous. Now, he has concocted a murder and kidnapping scheme based on a chance encounter at a service station. Once set in motion, he recruits Mac, a former prison mate, to facilitate the latter part of the crime. Troy forces Lorraine into taking part:  he charges her with looking after the kidnapped boy, Teddy, taken from his grandparents, Miriam and George.

What ensues is a brisk and original thriller as negotiations are made, and partners in crime double-cross. In the center is Lorraine’s commitment to protecting Teddy. Lorraine and Teddy quickly bond, and it is her growing love for the boy that keeps him safe. She goes from unwilling captor to brave keeper, finding strength she never knew she had.

Spanos is a strong developer of character. Lorraine begins as someone more acted upon than acting. She seems almost sidelined in her own story, waiting for life to begin. Forced into an untenable situation, she finds resources and a sense of self. Through adversity, she becomes a whole person. 

Troy is volatile and unpredictable, cruel and violent, with a terrible past carefully revealed. Only capable of looking as far as the next scam, he is ruthlessly incapable of seeing beyond his own needs, a mercurial man-child resenting anything and everyone. And yet, Spanos draws him so that while he is reprehensible, he is also human. If Troy is bad, Mac is the embodiment of unflinching evil, an immoral sociopath. He is a fascinating monster whose malevolence infuses the story with further tension.

Miriam and George, Teddy’s grandparents and now guardians, are a study in contrast. Miriam is the mother and caretaker of all in her radius. Even in deep pain from her son’s death, she struggles to maintain control of the world for Teddy’s sake; George remains self-absorbed. 

While Miriam attempts to clean-up after the mourners have left, George is demanding the television remote to watch his program. This intriguing exchange tells us so much about them and their marriage. It is one of many subtle and insightful glimpses throughout the novel.

Among the many characters, there is also a nosy neighbor and a big-hearted waitress. Both could easily fall into caricature, but Spanos wisely avoids these pitfalls by giving them honesty and dimension. Even with these secondary characters, she imbues them with detail and motivation.

Best of all, Spanos allows the characters to grow from both their experiences and interactions. Often thrillers are populated by one-emotion characters; the ending is about the resolution of the crime. Rainey Days goes beyond this, allowing the book’s inhabitants to mature and transform. The book’s final section delves into family history, engulfing all involved, an additional and intriguing layer to an already satisfying adventure.

As a debut novel, Rainey Days is first-rate. Even better, it is a harbinger of strong works to come.

———————————-

Author Maureen Spanos is a long-time resident of Port Jefferson, having located here while studying at Stony Brook University in 1969. She retired from Comsewogue School District where she taught elementary school from 1971 to 2004. She holds Masters Degrees in Education from Southampton College and in Arts Administration from Goucher College. The family maintains a second home on an island in Greece which has provided the background for a second novel that is currently in the works for later this year. 

Rainey Days is available on Amazon in both paper and ebook formats.

by -
0 827
Kyle Allen and Kathryn Newton in a scene from the film. Photo courtesy of Amazon Studios

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

The premise of a time loop has long been a staple of science fiction novels and movies. The most notable example is the 1993 fantasy Groundhog Day, in which a narcissistic television reporter (Bill Murray) is trapped in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, where he repeats February 2. Rightfully, it has become a classic comedy, relying on Murray’s performance of edge-to-awakening and a first-rate script by director Harold Ramis, collaborating with Danny Rubin. 

Based on the Japanese novel All You Need Is Kill, the less memorable Edge of Tomorrow (2014; marketed appropriately as Live Die Repeat: Edge of Tomorrow on home media) utilized a similar structure. Here, Tom Cruise is a military officer learning how to defeat alien invaders. 

Both Groundhog Day and Edge of Tomorrow are referenced in The Map of Tiny Perfect Things, a light comedy-drama, with Lev Grossman’s screenplay, based on his well-crafted short story. 

The film follows high school senior Mark (Kyle Allen) already well into his live-repeat of a summer day in Lexington, Massachusetts. His day follows the same sequence of waking up just after his mother pulls away from the house and continues with his interaction with his sister (Cleo Fraser) and slightly lost father (Josh Hamilton). 

The breakfast scene shows Mark anticipating everything from the popping of the toaster to speaking simultaneously with his sister as she snidely calls him a loser to his knowing all of the answers to his father’s crossword puzzle. Mark then wanders the town, slightly shifting a range of moments in the world but not growing much from his experiences. His isolation has the feel of the last man on earth. No matter what he tries, every day resets at midnight, as if he is snatched by “some cosmic nanny.”

Mark’s universe shifts with the introduction of Margaret (Kathryn Newton), whom he encounters at the local pool. Quickly, she admits to being locked in the same pattern. What ensues is his pursuit of this mystery figure and their burgeoning friendship. Beginning with Margaret sharing with him an eagle swooping over a lake and capturing a fish, they embark on a quest to search out “tiny perfect” moments. The map they create of these events becomes pivotal in the resolution. 

Once they commit to the undertaking, there is a montage — a perfectly executed ride by a skate rat; angel wings on a truck lining up perfectly with a man sitting on a bench; an older woman’s victory dance after a perfect hand of cards; a girl creating an enormous soap bubble; a traffic stop to allow a turtle to cross the road; a cloud in the shape of a question mark. While this is happening, Margaret takes the odd phone call and rushes off without an explanation. 

They have a date “on the moon,” which culminates with a bicycle ride through the school hallways. (The score indicates much of the film’s emotion, either smart or a cheat, depending on which way you look at it.) The closer they become, the more she pulls away. This conflict is the heart of the story, which resolves near the end. 

Tension rises between them as he falls for her. In turn, he wants their odd existence to mean something. She is inexplicably hesitant and pulls away. With this, he accepts that his problem is a lack of awareness of the struggle of the people around him; his downward spiral into loneliness sets him on a new and more positive course.

The film finds standard but entertaining ways to harness the gimmick. They give away money to random strangers. They stuff themselves with ice cream and junk food. A wonderful sequence is the near misses involving a beach ball and a girl at the pool. Another running joke shows Mark stopping a man (cameo by author Grossman) from being the victim of bird droppings. 

A major change from the short story’s first-person narrative is the introduction of Mark’s sidekick, the video game playing Henry (Jermaine Harris). As there is no voiceover, this gives Mark a chance to public his thoughts. While a facile solution, it works because of Harris’s command of Henry’s understated patter and dubious puzzlement over Mark’s strange musings. Henry being locked on the same level of the alien-themed video game adds another layer (and a nod towards Edge of Tomorrow and the overall thematic metaphor) to the story. 

For the most part, the film is a two-hander, relying on the charm of its leads. Allen has a bland, all-American charm that works for Mark. His realizations are believable, and his shift from passive to active drives the last third of the film. Newton manages not to overplay Margaret’s quirkiness. She is off-beat but grounded, with a playful veneer masking the pain underneath. She makes a line like “I’ll call you tomorrow … today … tomorrow,” both humorous and melancholy. They have good chemistry, which makes them sharing this existential problem convincing and saves the growing romance from becoming saccharine. 

The Map of Tiny Perfect Things is a sweet if predictable diversion. The idea of fixing what we can and accepting what we cannot is certainly not an original concept. Nor is the idea that growth comes from facing challenges. But in its telling, the film is a pleasant if obvious look at how we move forward. 

Rated PG-13, The Map of Tiny Perfect Things is now streaming on Amazon Prime.

by -
0 12601
Gabriel Afolayan in the role of Kossi the Bear in a scene from the film. Photo from FilmOne

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

Released in 2019 and now available on Amazon Prime, Coming from Insanity is the true story of Kossi the Bear, the notorious currency counterfeiter. 

The film was much anticipated and is considered a major addition to the Nollywood film world. (The controversial term “Nollywood” was coined in the early 2000s, traced to several possible New York Times’ origins. While there are several meanings, it most specifically refers to the film-making activity in Lagos, Nigeria.)

In 1995, Kossi, age twelve, was trafficked from Togo to Lagos, a common fate for thousands of children. The majority of these victims became servants, with approximately one percent involved in criminal activity. Sold into domestic slavery by his parents, Kossi serves as a house boy for the Martins, whose treatment ranges from disinterestedly kind to emotionally brutal. The film quickly jumps fifteen years to his ejection from the house. The family gives him severance and a plane ticket back to Togo, where he knows no one and has no connections.

Instead of returning to his birthplace, he embarks on a career as a counterfeiter. His obsession with making money leads him to the actual concept of “making money.” He masters the ability to create almost undetectably realistic American one hundred dollar bills. He sets up shop in a well-appointed apartment with three ragtag assistants and begins to produce huge quantities of the faux cash. At the same time, they begin living the high life, with drinking and clubs and partying of all sorts. Eventually, they run afoul of both Nigeria’s Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) and a dangerous and violent band of illegal moneychangers.  

After the extended exposition, the simple plot kicks into high gear. The characters are fairly broad sketches, with the most depth reserved for Gabriel Afolayan’s Kossi, whose focus and genius contrast with immaturity and an almost painful innocence. Watching him try to find the right paper for printing the false bills is one of the stronger stretches in the film’s earlier parts. “Practice makes good,” he states. “Obsession makes perfect.” And yet, his limited life experience leads him into cavalier and, ultimately, deadly choices. His passion for Sonia, whom he calls Mama Bear, is more high school crush than an adult connection.

Most of the actors have been given one tonal quality, but they make the most of this. Udoka Oyeka’s Detective Toye is described as being brilliant but having a personal life on-the-rocks. The latter is only revealed through him occasionally drinking from a hip flask; it is more indicating than inherent. But he has an ease and clarity that reads strongly in his drive to bring down the counterfeiters. 

Adeolu Adefarasin is gentle and wise as an older house boy who comes along and is often the voice of logic and wisdom. Entering later in the film, Bolanle Ninalowo brings depth to the bouncer-turned-bodyguard Rocky. Sharon Ooja, as Sonia, the object of Kossi’s affection, manages to balance the mercenary with the kind. Odunlade Adekola has a brief but memorable scene as a loquaciously aggressive cab driver. As a whole, the cast does its best, but the film leans towards plot rather than character-centric.

Writer-editor Akinyemi Sebastian Akinropo makes his directorial debut with this feel which feels like a sketch for a more complicated and deeper exploration of the topic in some ways. 

While it has the feeling of a low-budget film and multiple plot holes must be overlooked, Akinropo has created an intriguing and entertaining crime thriller; he tells the story with sympathy and humor and a true sense of humanity. The gritty reality juxtaposed with some surprising and almost eccentric touches raise the film above the average. 

Coming from Insanity is a fascinating story told unevenly but with honesty and just enough originality to keep the viewer engaged. The film is rated PG-13.

by -
0 563
Above, the remnants of an Anglo-Saxon ship burial from the 6th century are unearthed in a scene from the film.

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

Perhaps it is odd to explain a film as methodically heartfelt, but that best describes The Dig. Based on the 2007 novel by John Preston and the true story of the 1939 excavation of Sutton Hoo (outside of Woodbridge, in Suffolk, England), the film explores the personalities involved with the undertaking and the quest for the truth. It also addresses both the purist of and the validity of credit.

With a lifelong interest in archeology, widow Edith Pretty (Carey Mulligan) hires local Basil Brown (Ralph Fiennes) to excavate the burial mounds on her estate. Brown, self-taught and self-effacing, first rejects the position because of the amount of money offered — the same small fee that the Ipswich Museum had paid him. It is less about small sums and more about the value that he sees in the work. She immediately relents, raising the salary by 12% to two pounds a week.

Carey Mulligan in a scene from The Dig.

What follows is a painstaking project that leads to an extraordinary discovery. Given Brown’s lack of formal education — he left school at twelve — his initial claims that the mounds are Anglo-Saxon and not Viking are easily dismissed. His uncovering proof of his supposition results in outside interest, first from the Ipswich Museum and then the British Museum. Throughout, Brown is praised for his work and then pushed aside. 

His true champion is Pretty, dealing with a heart-related illness and caring for her son, Robert (Archie Barnes). The young boy is fascinated by the dig but caught up in the skies above. He is obsessed with both the Royal Air Force (RAF) fighter pilots training nearby and a world of fantasy in the stars. 

Like the work they have undertaken, the film is focused but with a rich and rewarding purpose. Brown digs with shovel and pick and spade; he covers the area in tarps when it rains. He jots in his notebook. Pretty reads of archaeology in her library. Robert plays. It is a film of landscapes, sunrises and sunsets, and slow and purposeful work done with great care as the British nation prepares for war.

Soldiers gather on the roads as the planes become more frequent. The looming war drives an immediacy to finish, but the process and progress cannot be rushed. It is all measured, but it is grounded in the breathing of the world. 

One of the most interesting moments comes when a small shift in the soil buries Brown. His two helpers and the manor staff, along with Pretty, claw in the mud and dirt to get him out. It is a perfect synthesis of tension and cooperation as they resurrect him from a burial site.

A scene from ‘The Dig’

Once it is clear that the unearthed treasures are significant, the battle is over control of the site. Pretty is reluctant to turn it over and brings in her cousin, the untrained Rory Lomax (Johnny Flynn). Lomax’s introduction provides a sliver of romance to the story, as he becomes involved with Peggy Piggott (Lily James), the wife of archaeologist Stuart Piggott (Ben Chaplin). The Piggotts, both respected in their field, are caught in a repressed and possibly sexless marriage. It is a diversion from the main plot that only finds its strength when Lomax is called-up for service

The journey relies on a strong cast and Mike Eley’s lush cinematography. Stefan Gregory’s beautifully melancholy score elegantly punctuates the highs and lows. It soars appropriately but, for the most part, remains as a subtle heartbeat in the background of the action.

Mulligan is luminous is Mrs. Pretty. Both gentle and tightly wound, she bears her pain with great dignity, all for love for her son. Another actor would most likely fall into a maudlin caricature; Mulligan is real, sad, but not without humor. It is a delicate, thoughtful performance, an extraordinary contrast with her bolder, edgier, and dynamically impressive work in the recent Promising Young Woman. 

Fiennes is equally gentle, his simplicity masking a more enigmatic individual. At fifty-eight, there is no trace of his breakout performance as Amon Göth, the Nazi monster of Schindler’s List. His Brown is all softness, bringing deep honesty to a man frayed around the edges but whose center is strong. Mulligan and Fiennes don’t so much spark as join as a single flame. 

Johnny Flynn and Lily James in a scene from the film.

Lily James turns in a small, subtle performance. Unlike her vivacious Lady Rose of Downton Abbey or her energetic Cinderella, this is a delicate, introspective performance. She wears her pain and hope hidden behind large spectacles. 

Monica Dolan is strong as Brown’s supportive and shrewd wife. At first, she comes across as vague and disconnected, but she has a true understanding of who her husband is and, even more importantly, his potential. Flynn’s Lomax is likable but a bit of a cipher. As the British Museum’s Charles Phillips, Ken Stott skirts the blustery; he brings a touch of humanity and wonderment to the final breakthroughs. 

The Dig is not Howard Carter and the discovery of King Tut’s tomb. (And those looking for Brendan Fraser in The Mummy should seek elsewhere.) It is not grand discoveries that make headlines. Director Simon Stone and screenwriter Moira Buffini have worked seamlessly to tell an intimate story that shows how a small discovery can make a big difference, both to the individuals and the world. In the end, The Dig’s moral is not about who finds the answers but that the answers are found.   

Rated PG-13, The Dig is currently streaming on Netflix.

All photos courtesy of Netflix

 

by -
0 1469
Carey Mulligan in a scene from the film. Photo from Focus Features

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

Writer-director-producer Emerald Fennel makes her feature film debut with the bold and disturbing Promising Young Woman, currently streaming on Amazon. This hybrid of a revenge thriller, psychological drama, and black comedy is one of the most relentless and riveting films of the past year.

Cassandra Thomas (Carey Mulligan) is a friendless thirty-year-old who hates her job and, seemingly, everything in her life. She lives with her parents (Jennifer Coolidge and Clancy Brown) in a home that seems never to have moved on from her adolescence.  Having dropped out of medical school seven years earlier, Cassandra has become the most reluctant and abrasive of baristas. She is absent in her own life to the point that she forgets her thirtieth birthday, revealed in a strangely hilarious and disturbing scene with her parents. Their gift is a suitcase, a less than subtle signal that they want Cassandra to move on or, at least, out.

Unbeknownst to her parents, Cassandra goes to clubs and bars, pretending to be drunk and allowing herself to be taken home by random men. As they are trying to taking advantage of her, she soberly confronts them with their behavior. She keeps track of them in a notebook hidden under her childhood bed.

Cassandra’s life derailed after the rape of her friend Nina by a fellow medical school student, Al Monroe (Chris Lowell). Nina and Cassandra had been friends from childhood, both the “promising young woman” of the title. Nina was both top of her class and a “party girl.” Her claims against Monroe were dismissed both by the other students, including friend Madison (Alison Brie), and the college itself. The case never came to trial due to the machinations of a vicious lawyer. While it is never specifically stated, Nina committed suicide shortly after the incident.

Things shift when a former classmate, Ryan (Bo Burnham), happens into the coffee shop. Now a pediatric doctor, Ryan recognizes Cassandra from school and asks her out. Ryan remains connected to the soon-to-be married Al. Cassandra is awakened to the possibility of real revenge and begins to set things in motion.

At the same time, she realizes that she is developing feelings for Ryan. After a chance encounter and a complication, what ensues is a rom-com with all common elements, including a montage set to a Paris Hilton song, and an uncomfortable meet-the-parents dinner. It is a clever diversion that skillfully boomerangs with the surfacing of a video of the rape. This change in course drives the remainder of the film.

Promising Young Woman is an intentionally messy film. Everything is skewed, from its saturated bright blues and cotton candy pinks to the soundtrack that provides startling commentary. The use of The King & I ballad “Something Wonderful” is hideously memorable. The constant off-centeredness makes for a tense, enthralling ride. The action is wound so tightly that the unraveling is all the more engaging, vacillating between deadly earnest and poisonously funny.

The film’s ensemble is first-rate. While most have only a single scene, there is a focus, detail, and reality in every performance. Coolidge and Brown hit just the right/wrong notes as the exasperated parents, a comic mix of disparity and depth. Gradually, they reveal that they are not as oblivious to their daughter’s struggle. Alison Brie’s Madison becomes the catalyst of a good deal of the later action. Brittle and self-absorbed, she is handily maneuvered during a drunken lunch, one of the ugliest and best-crafted scenes. 

As beau Ryan, Bo Burnham has that aw-shucks quality that masks hidden regrets and responsibilities. His genuine quality makes certain revelations all the more acute. Connie Britton is the dean who refused to validate Nina’s accusations; when the table is turned, Britton’s fears are palpable. Laverne Cox finds her usual easy charm as Cassandra’s boss. Molly Shannon has only the briefest appearance. As Nina’s mother, she tells Cassandra, “Move on, please … for all of us,” as she closes the door. (It is interesting to note that both Coolidge and Shannon are known for their broad comic portrayals; Fennel has drawn out beautifully understated performances.)

Alfred Molina plays Jordan Green, the perpetrator’s lawyer whose guilt over this case and many others like it has driven him to the edge. “On sabbatical” after a psychotic break, he is looking for redemption or at the very least forgiveness. It is an excruciating scene, both unique and resonant. 

But the heartbeat of the film is Mulligan. In her gifted hands, Cassandra is a spectrum of anger, hurt, and wry humor. It is a performance of unusual and awe-inspiring dimension. She finds the damage and the pride, never neglecting the smallest moments or details. She brings out the arch manipulator but does not neglect Cassandra’s underlying desire for some peace. Mulligan’s Cassandra is not so much a puzzle to be assembled but a shattered mirror:  even in its unlikely reconstruction, it is forever scarred and distorted.

Fennel skillfully keeps the violence off-camera until the last possible moment, never resorting to graphic imagery. Instead, the brutality lies in our imaginations. Fennel’s restraint heightens the moment when the visual savagery is unleashed.

Throughout the film, there are the horrifying refrains of “I did nothing wrong” and “boys will be boys” and “we were both drunk.” Fennel eviscerates the blame-the-victim culture. Promising Young Woman is a #MeToo treatise that never references the movement. Instead, it brilliantly tells its story with the darkest of humor and the cut of the sharpest scalpel.

Promising Young Woman is rated R for strong violence, language and drug use.

Prev1...232425...43Next Page 24 of 43
TBR News Media is your local news and entertainment website.
We provide you with the latest breaking news and information for your community.
Contact us: [email protected]

Most Viewed

©