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Movie Review

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Nikola Tesla and Guglielmo Marconi are the subjects of Joseph Sikorski's newest documentary. Image courtesy of Apple TV

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

Award-winning filmmaker Joseph Sikorski’s works include Arbor Day (1990), The Return of the King? (1993), Tower of Babble (2001), and Tower to the People: Tesla’s Dream at Wardenclyffe Continues (2015). The subject of the last—Tower to the People—plays an integral part in his newest documentary, Invisible Threads: From Wireless to War. Co-written with Michael Calomino, Invisible Threads takes an intriguing look at the early days of wireless technology and the conflicts between inventors Nikola Tesla and Guglielmo Marconi. Central to the story is a mysterious radio station erected in West Sayville, New York, by the German-based company Telefunken in 1911.

At the outset, local residents had the impression the site was to be a chocolate factory. Changing its name to Atlantic Communications Company, Telefunken built its radio tower with little public knowledge. The Suffolk County News editor Francis Hoag investigated, revealing the organization’s actual purpose. From here, the film follows the rise of wireless communication and the conflicts between Tesla and Marconi. Eventually, World War I becomes central to the narrative.

Marconi focused on developing a method to send Morse code through long-distance wireless communication. In contrast, Tesla had broader aspirations: He wanted to send sound, pictures, power, and electrical lighting by the same means. Thus came the Marconi-Tesla wireless race. 

The Wardenclyffe Laboratory in Shoreham. Photo courtesy of Apple TV

Tesla’s interests lay in the process, and concerned himself less with the applications. Marconi became a brand, with early telegrams being dubbed “Marconigrams.” As wireless technology grew, its impact and uses expanded. In 1912, wireless messages sent from the sinking Titanic saved lives. This alone boosted the value of Marconi’s system. The friction between Marconi and Tesla led to accusations and eventual wrangling over patents and lawsuits that dragged on for years.

But the heart of the story is Telefunken, who shipped the component parts from Germany to Long Island, assembling the tower in near secrecy. The company quickly demonstrated the ability to send a message from Sayville to Germany—four thousand miles—without a relay station in between. Telefunken’s process refinement even surpassed Marconi, leading to the U.S. government expressing concern that a foreign power had this control.

An “instrument of peace, commerce, and goodwill” changed in 1914 with the outbreak of the European war. The fear that Telefunken exploited the station to aid the German war effort proved true. Even with government oversight and surveillance, Telefunken used the system to communicate with Berlin: Telefunken was a major cog in the spy network. 

Conspiracies, subterfuge, and disinformation were all part of the complicated situation that even involved the sinking of the R.M.S. Lusitania. The tale is rife with saboteurs, cryptography, and Secret Service involvement, swirling with disinformation, assassinations, and labor unrest. All led to America entering World War I and taking over Telefunken. 

The film touches on the growing anti-German propaganda inflaming the American populace, particularly directed towards immigrants. Sikorski states that the majority of German-Americans were pro-American in the rising anti-German atmosphere but were subject to a wide range of persecution.

One of the most fascinating chapters involves the “Nauen Buzz,” a puzzle centered around coded messages accidentally solved by amateur radio enthusiast Charles E. Apgar. Sikorski presents Apgar through actual audio interviews recorded in 1934.

Another intriguing section explores Telsa’s remote-controlled boats outfitted with weapons. After a demonstration, government representatives dismissed its value—losing the earliest example of drone warfare. 

Invisible Threads masterfully mixes interviews with historians, authors, scientists, and other experts (and even a descendant) with hundreds of photographs and newspaper clippings. Restored historical images and 3D models for new perspectives were created from existing 2D photos. In addition, Sikorski nimbly weaves archival footage and dramatic recreations. He eschews dialogue with the latter but presents them with voiceovers, ambient sounds, and compelling underscoring. Additionally, the film details architectural challenges and scientific innovations.

Sikorski wisely chose the rich, evocative tones of Tony Todd for the narration. Todd, best known as the titular villain in the Candyman series, conveys a perfect blend of interest, insight, and a hint of menace.

With Invisible Threads: From Wireless to War, Joseph Sikorski presents a detailed, intriguing chapter in the world of communication—“So much creativity, so much destruction.”— and Long Island’s place in that history.

The documentary is now streaming on Apple TV and a special 4K edition with exclusive extras is streaming on Vimeo On Demand.

Robert De Niro and Leonardo DiCaprio in a scene from the film. Photo courtesy of Apple TV+

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

David Grann’s true-crime Killers of the Flower Moon: The Osage Murders and the Birth of the FBI brilliantly chronicles the Reign of Terror that cut a blood-stained swath through the Osage tribe in Oklahoma in the early 1920s. Two dozen murders were directly attributed to the four-year period, but further inquiry revealed a larger conspiracy that spanned at least two decades and hundreds of homicides. The book was one of the best or most notable books of 2017 by The New York Times, Wall Street Journal, Washington Post, Time, NPR, and many others.

Members of the Osage Nation earned royalties from oil sales through their federally mandated “head rights.” As the oil market grew, many amassed wealth, leading to widespread swindles and violence on the unsuspecting Native Americans. In addition, the Burke Act (1906) imposed an unscrupulous situation of guardianships, depriving many of the Osage control over their money making them wards of predatory opportunists. 

Lily Gladstone and Leonardo DiCaprio in a scene from the film. Photo courtesy of Apple TV+

The book’s narrative is one of poisonings, shootings, and even the bombing of a house. The history is fraught with coverups by local authorities, high-profile citizens, police, doctors, and even undertakers. Coercion, blackmail, and negotiations with criminals are all part of the byzantine tapestry. The country found little sympathy for the victims, instead focused with a morbid glee on the lurid details: “Osage Indian Killing Conspiracy Thrills,” heralded the Reno Evening Gazette. 

With over forty films (including multiple documentaries), Martin Scorsese’s extraordinary roster includes Mean Streets, Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore, Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, Goodfellas, The Age of Innocence, Casino, The Departed, The Wolf of Wall Street, and, his last film, 2019’s The Irishman. The Award-winning director has co-written the screenplay for Killers of the Flower Moon with Eric Roth (Forrest Gump, Munich, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, and A Star Is Born). The result is a compelling epic. 

The story alternates between wider brutality and intimate moments among a trio of first-rate actors, surrounded by a varied, if not fully developed, supporting cast. Clocking in at nearly three and a half hours, Killers of the Flower Moon is a powerful, important film, but surprisingly misses some of the broader and significant elements of the story.

The film opens with a ritual burying of a peace pipe in a meditative and communal ceremony. Set to a pulsing soundtrack, the action shifts to an almost orgasmic oil gush, segueing into a portrait of the Osage, who became the world’s richest people per capita.

The scene changes to Fairfax, Oklahoma. While it is the 1920s, the town seems more a portrait of Wild West chaos, contrasting the wealthy Native Americans with an earthy population of white speculators and oil workers. 

Ernest Burkhart (Leonardo DiCaprio) returns from Europe, where he served as an infantry cook in World War I, and his uncle, William King Hale (Robert De Niro), takes him in. Hale, the self-titled King of the Osage Hills, is a friend and supporter of the Osage, speaking the language and moving with ease in their community. The façade is quickly dispelled as Ernest is drawn into Hale’s machinations of deception and vicious, destructive manipulations. With his sly, paternal benevolence, he advises Ernest not to make small but big trouble—for there lies the big payoff.

While driving a cab, Ernest meets and courts Osage Mollie Kyle (Lily Gladstone). Much of the film is shown through her eyes and heard in her brief voiceovers, simply and devastatingly enumerating the many uninvestigated tribal murders. After their marriage, Hale continues to involve Ernest in a range of illegal and immoral activities, resulting in the death of Mollie’s sisters. 

Scorsese and Roth have narrowed the scope, focusing mainly on Ernest, Mollie, and Hale, allowing for extraordinary performances. DiCaprio has never been better as the conflicted but easily swayed Ernest, who becomes one of the “squaw men,” the lay-about husbands living off their wives’ money. DiCaprio shows Ernest’s struggle, creating a character of active and passive complicity but still revealing lingering shreds of humanity. 

Lily Gladstone is a revelation of nuance and subtle dimension, finding joy, pain, humor, and strength. Her ability to project extraordinary shades of emotion in complete stillness is matched by her anguish in the film’s most gut-wrenching scenes of loss. Late in the film, her declaration that “this blanket is a target on our backs” reflects a woman robbed of peace of mind, living in a world crumbling from within and without.

De Niro balances the “great white father” with the darkness of a conscienceless villain whose lack of moral compass tips towards the amoral. De Niro (and the film) might have been better served by a gradual revelation of Hale’s true colors, something in which the book succeeds.

As for the rest of the players, there are no weak links, but they have only one or two notes to play. The rogues are rough, whiskey-soaked outlaws. The citizens of Fairfax carry a certain generic “oldy-timey” vibe. The members of the Bureau of Investigation (the forerunner to the FBI) are a tight-lipped crew, directed by Agent Tom White, an effective Jesse Plemons. While a good portion of Grann’s book deals with the investigation under J. Edgar Hoover, the film truncates the inquiry. The trial itself is abbreviated, with John Lithgow, as Prosecutor Leaward, and Brendan Fraser, as W.S. Hamilton, Hale’s attorney, basically serving their functions.

Throughout, the wrongs committed against the Osage are rightly and unflinchingly highlighted. Whether being overcharged for funeral arrangements, targets of arson and insurance fraud, or treated with disdain, suspicion, and envy by the “buzzards circling [the Osage] community,” the Osage nobility is fully present. Never caricatured, their ascendency from victim to the pursuit of justice in the face of systematic murder creates the core of the film’s final stretch. 

Scorsese’s penultimate scene is fascinating, allowing a seeming gimmick to work on another level (as it is fact-based). His cameo is fun, if a bit jarring. Killers of the Flower Moon’s final image, a contemporary nod, is beautiful—the ideal resolution to a film that casts light on a bloody, scarred chapter of American history.

Rated R, the film is now playing in local theaters and will later play on Apple TV+.

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Megan Suri in a scene from 'It Lives Inside.' Photo courtesy of NEON

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

Director Bishal Dutta has directed nineteen shorts. He has received worldwide acclaim, garnering half a dozen Best Director laurels at various international film festivals. Most recently, Life in Color was an official selection at The American Pavilion Emerging Filmmakers Showcase (2018 Cannes Film Festival). His work has included music videos and broadcast commercials. 

NEON (distributor of the Academy Award-winning Parasite), along with QC Entertainment and Brightlight Pictures, produced Dutta’s first feature, the horror film It Lives Inside. Indian-born Sam (Megan Suri) is a high school student whose goal is assimilation. Her mother, Poorna (Neeru Bajwa), clings to their cultural roots, while her father, Inesh (Vik Sahay), attempts to navigate the two worlds and make peace between mother and daughter.

Megan Suri and Gage Marsh in a scene from ‘It Lives Inside.’ Photo courtesy of NEON

At school, Sam’s childhood friend, Tamira (Mohana Krishnan), is something of an outcast. She comes late to class, wanders the halls, and lurks underneath the bleachers, muttering fiercely and tapping a glass container that never leaves her hands. (Until this point, the film’s subtitle could have been Monster in a Mason Jar.)

Concerned but hesitant to associate with Tamira, Sam confronts her former friend. Tamira attempts to explain the evil within. In the ensuing disagreement, Sam calls her “a psycho” and smashes the jar, releasing the trapped entity. Tamira disappears, and the spirit latches onto Sam.

The rest of the film follows Sam’s arc from the fear of losing her sanity to accepting the reality of the pishacha, a flesh-eating demon. The pishachi, part of Hindu and Buddhist mythologies, feed on dark feelings like anger and hatred. They attack by first isolating the target, then slowly eating the soul. 

In many ways, It Lives Inside is standard monster fare, no different than dozens (hundreds?) of high-school-girl-in-terror movies. (The high school mascot—a bit on-the-nose—is a werewolf.) However, Dutta, who penned the screenplay, presents a unique reflection of the immigrant experience through this unusual horror prism. 

The cultural elements are integral in the storytelling and ultimate resolution. The family celebrates Durga Puja, a holiday paying homage to the Hindu goddess Durga’s victory over the shape-shifting demon Mahishasura. The party offers a glimpse into the community, showing Poorna’s desire to honor her heritage and Sam’s desire to remain outside it. When Dutta shows these pieces, the film comes to life.

The most lingering moment involves the aftermath of a grisly death that Sam witnesses. The neighbors’ faces suggest suspicion, not compassion. Dutta comments boldly and effectively on “immigrant as other,” revealed in the brief visual commentary. This moment speaks more powerfully than a dozen speeches could convey. 

Suri is first-rate as Sam, balancing the character’s struggles, seeming descent into madness, and inner strength. She is the modern Scream Queen: resourceful, smart, and brave; willing to sacrifice everything but her humanity. She manages to make even the weakest dialogue believable. 

Bajwa and Sahay avoid caricatures and find a nice contrast as the parents, both trying to understand and support their child. Gage Marsh is very “boy band” as a quasi-date who meets an inevitable end. Betty Gabriel plays Sam’s teacher, Joyce Dixon, one of those fantasy mentors who never seem to leave school and are always available. We know she is cool because she wears a Berkley sweatshirt (coincidentally, where Dutta teaches film). Gabriel makes the stock character completely real. 

Strangely, the film seems underpopulated. Students barely register; party guests are mere ciphers. 

Sadly, as a horror film, it falls short. The absence of tension is not replaced by any genuine atmosphere or style. The tired tropes—whispering voices, red lights, a journal with dire warnings and disturbing sketches, dreams within dreams—play strictly as clichés, making the short running time seem to plod towards its inevitable and strangely tacit conclusion. Often, it feels like a lesser episode of the 1970s television series Kolchak: the Night Stalker. 

Of the monster itself, it remains invisible for most of the film. Occasionally, Dutta allows a glimpse—mostly a shape in the dark with eyes charged by a pair of old AAA batteries, accompanied by a growl that claims the eeriness of an annoyed Dachshund. The final encounter reveals a refugee from the creature-feature rubber suit brigade. The matinee monster looks slightly less than a Party City Alien or perhaps something ordered out of the back of a comic book. Spikey and mildly reptilian, it elicits no response outside of a mirthless and disappointed chuckle from the anesthetized audience.

If only Dutta had leaned further into the social core, he would have created something memorable. Instead, It Lives Inside remains a rather flabby thriller with a fascinating—but unrealized—potential.

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

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From left, Kelly Reilly, Tina Fey, Kenneth Branagh, Michelle Yeoh, and Jamie Dornan star in 'A Haunting In Venice' Photo courtesy of 20th Century Studios/Disney

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

With over two billion books in print, Agatha Christie remains history’s second best-selling author (just behind Shakespeare). Her works span sixty-six detective novels and fourteen short story collections. Having opened in 1952, The Mousetrap is the world’s longest-running play, with over twenty-nine thousand performances. Christie’s best-known creations are the private detective Hercule Poirot and the amateur sleuth Miss Marple.

Poirot—the meticulous Belgian of the “little gray cells”— is featured in thirty-three novels and fifty-one short stories, with over a dozen films following his exploits. 

Notable actors such as Albert Finney (nominated for an Academy Award for Murder on the Orient Express), Peter Ustinov, Alfred Molina, John Malkovich, and Tony Randall donned the waxed mustache. David Suchet has been the most successful and beloved with Agatha Christie’s Poirot series, which presented seventy episodes from 1989 to 2013. Suchet’s large-than-life Poirot remarkably manages to remain wholly dimensional. 

Kenneth Branagh and Tina Fey in a scene from ‘A Haunting In Venice’. Photo courtesy of 20th Century Studios/Disney

In 2017, Kenneth Branagh directed and starred in Murder on the Orient Express, a labored adaptation that paled in comparison to the 1974 film and the 2010 television version. Branagh followed it up with the even less adept Death on the Nile (2022). 

His newest entry, A Haunting in Venice, claims its source as Hallowe’en Party (1969). The crisp novel deals with a girl who claims to have witnessed a murder and, shortly after, is drowned in a bobbing-for-apples tub. The similarities between the source and the film are slim. Apart from one character, a few names, a tub of apples, and a Halloween setting, A Haunting in Venice is an unrelated tale.

Hercule Poirot (Branagh) lives in an unsettled Venetian retirement with a bodyguard, ex-policeman Vitale Portfoglio (Riccardo Scamarcio). Mystery writer Ariadne Oliver (Tina Fey), Poirot’s acquaintance with whom he shares a professional history and a slightly antagonistic bent, coerces Poirot into attending a séance at a nearby palazzo, which follows a children’s Halloween party. Skeptic Poirot agrees to accompany her, intending to reveal the medium as a fraud. 

The palazzo’s owner, Rowena Drake (Kelly Reilly), wants to contact her daughter, Alicia (Rowan Robinson), who had committed suicide by throwing herself into the canal a year earlier. The guests include the family doctor, Leslie Ferrier (Jamie Dornan), his son, Leopold (Jude Hill), and the housemaid, Olga Seminoff (Camille Cottin). The medium, Joyce Reynolds (Michelle Yeoh), speaks in the daughter’s voice, proclaiming she was murdered. Poirot quickly exposes Reynolds as a fake. But is she? While Poirot reveals her confederates—Romani siblings Desdemona and Nicholas Holland (Emma Laird and Ali Khan)—doubt looms.

The ensuing plot hinges on the revelation of Alicia’s killer and the question of the palazzo’s haunting by the ghosts of children locked in to die during the plague years. 

A Haunting in Venice is an old dark house thriller with the requisite rainstorm, a falling chandelier, strange shadows, whispering voices, and assorted things that go bump in the night. The real stars are the technical elements. Visually, the film is exquisite: Haris Zambarloukos’s whirring and winding cinematography complements John Kelly’s elegant and evocative production design.

The performances are solid enough, all playing in the same world—but certainly not Christie’s universe. In a complete departure from the author’s self-satirizing writer (cleverly played by Zoë Wanamaker in the series), Fey’s Oliver is a wise-cracking 1940s soubrette and Poirot’s active adversary. Yeoh brings a winking gravitas to the medium, and Reilly ably manages a mother’s grief. Laird and Kahn make for a mercurial pair.

The center of any Poirot mystery is, of course, Poirot. Branagh’s twenty-first-century reinterpretation of the role results in a unique, often troubled, human character. Oddly, the choice becomes problematic, offering a Poirot with a lack of “Poirot-ness.” Missing is the twinkling genius, one step ahead. Instead, this Poirot runs alongside the pack until the final moments. However, Branagh embraces Christie’s vision in the resolution, where he exercises his insights and logic in unraveling the solution. Here, Branagh finds a few moments to shine, offering a glimpse of his potential. 

A Haunting in Venice is a distinct improvement over Murder on the Orient Express and Death on the Nile. But whether Haunting is a Christie-inspired film or just a movie cashing in on the author’s fame, the answer must veer towards the latter. Viewers seeking a traditional Poirot murder mystery with the classic intrepid detective will most likely be frustrated and disappointed. Those more flexible (or less invested in the canon) will find a quick-paced and visually satisfying thriller.

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

‘The Color Purple’ heads to theaters on Christmas Day. Photo courtesy of Warner Bros. Pictures

By Tim Haggerty and Jeffrey Sanzel

Filmgoers can look forward to an exciting  field of offerings for the fall and holiday season. A wide range of releases promises a host of titles in a strong cross-section of genres including horror, musicals, historical dramas, and family movies. Here are some of the most anticipated movies for the rest of 2023, listed in order of release date. Ready, set, … action!

A Haunting in Venice

Kenneth Branagh’s follow-up to Death on the Nile is A Haunting in Venice, his third outing as celebrated sleuth Hercule Poirot. The Agatha Christie-inspired story focuses on murder during a séance and promises thrills offered up by a star-studded. Along with director-actor Branagh are Tina Fey, Jamie Dornan, Kelly Reilly and Michelle Yeoh, among others.

Rated PG-13· Release date September 15

Saw X

While not for the faint of heart (or stomach), Saw X marks the tenth in the Jigsaw saga. The film is set between the events of Saw and Saw II and follows a desperate man traveling to Mexico for a medical procedure, which is revealed to be a scam. Tobin Bell once again takes on the role of John Kramer/Jigsaw.

Rated TBA· Release date September 29

The Exorcist: Believer

David Gordon Green appropriately follows the end of his recent Halloween trilogy with The Exorcist: Believer. Originally, the producers were going to reboot the series, but instead have opted for a direct sequel to the landmark 1973 original. Ellen Burstyn reprises her starring role. 

Rated R· Release date October 13

Killers of the Flower Moon

It has been four years since Academy Award-winner Martin Scorsese’s much-lauded The Irishman. Now, the great director presents Killers of the Flower Moon. Based on David Grann’s bestseller of the same name, the film centers on a series of Oklahoma murders in the Osage Nation during the 1920s, committed after oil was discovered on tribal land. The film, which stars Leonardo DiCaprio, Robert De Niro, Lily Gladstone, John Lithgow, Jesse Plemons, Tantoo Cardinal and Brendan Fraser, promises to be one of the fall’s best and most exciting films.

Rated R· Release date October 20

Priscilla

Sofia Coppola tells the Elvis story through meeting, courtship, and marriage in Priscilla. Based on Priscilla Presley’s memoir Elvis and Me, Coppola creates the private life of the superstar in what will hopefully be her signature brilliance, blending high art with raw emotion. Cailee Spaeny and Jacob Elordi star as Priscilla and Elvis.

Rated R· Release date October 27

Five Nights at Freddy’s

Taking its cue from the video game, Five Nights at Freddy’s follows a security guard (Josh Hutcherson) on night-time patrol at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza, an abandoned family entertainment center, where animatronic mascots kill anyone there after midnight. 

Rated PG-13 Release Date October 27

Pain Hustlers

David Yates features Emily Blunt, Chris Evans, Andy Garcia, and Catherine O’Hara in Pain Hustlers, a true-events crime drama centered on a criminal conspiracy at a pharmaceutical start-up.

Rated R· Release date October 27

The Marvels

The Marvel Universe expands with The Marvels, a Captain Marvel sequel starring Nia DaCosta, along with Brie Larson as Carol Danvers, and Iman Vallanis’ Kamala Khan (Ms. Marvel of the Disney+ series). 

Rated PG-13· Release date November 10

The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes

The multi-million-dollar Hunger Games franchise returns with a prequel based on Suzanne Collins’ novel The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes. Series vet Francis Lawrence directs the story that follows young Coriolanus Snow (played by Donald Sutherland in the previous four films) and his involvement with the Hunger Games.

Rated PG-13· Release date November 17

Next Goal Wins

Based on the 2015 documentary, Next Goal Wins tells the story of Dutch American soccer coach Thomas Rongen (Michael Fassbender), hired to help turn around the American Samoa national team, considered one of the worst in the world. (The trailers suggest a warm Ted Lasso vibe.)

Rated PG-13· Release date November 17

Napoleon

Napoleon joins director Ridley Scott with Joaquin Phoenix as the French general-turned-emperor. While the film will include a number of Napoleon’s most famous battles, its primary focus is on his tempestuous love story with his first wife, Joséphine (Vanessa Kirby).

Rated R· Release date November 22

Maestro

Perhaps one of the most anticipated fall films is Bradley Cooper’s biopic Maestro. Director Cooper has co-written (along with Josh Singer) the screenplay in which he stars as the extraordinary and complicated musician Leonard Bernstein. The film also stars Carey Mulligan, Maya Hawke and Jeremy Strong.

Rated R· Release date November 22

Wish

Disney’s Wish chronicles the origin story of the Wishing Star, with Ariana DeBose,  Chris Pine and Alan Tudyk starring in Frozen writers Jennifer Lee and Chris Buck’s screenplay. When darkness falls upon the Kingdom of Wishes, a young girl wishes upon a star to save her home, only to have the star physically come to her aid and becomes her sidekick. If the advance buzz is any indication, the animated film could become another Disney classic.

Rated TBA· Release date November 2

Poor Things

Emma Stone plays Bella Baxter, a young suicide brought back to life by a scientist (Willem Dafoe) in the unusual and surreal Poor Things, based on the 1992 Alasdair Gray novel. 

Rated R· Release Date December 8.

Wonka

Timothée Chalamet takes on the title role in Wonka, an origin story of the eccentric candy maker. Paddington director Paul King has assembled an all-star cast with Olivia Colman, Sally Hawkins, Keegan Michael-Key, and Rowan Atkinson. The film promises to be a visual feast and a fascinating take on Roald Dahls’ legendary character.

Rated PG· Release date December 15

The Color Purple

Stephen Spielberg filmed Alice Walker’s indelible novel The Color Purple in his Oscar-nominated 1985 film. Now Blitz Bazawule brings the Broadway musical to the big screen, with  Danielle Brooks, Halle Bailey, Fantasia Barrino, Taraji P. Henson, and Louis Gossett Jr., showcasing the Tony-nominated score by Brenda Russell, Allee Willis, and Stephen Bray.

Rated PG-13· Release date December 25

This article originally appeared in TBR News Media’s Harvest Times supplement on Sept. 14.

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Xolo Maridueña in a scene from 'Blue Beetle.' Photo courtesy of Warner Bros. Pictures/DC Comics

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

For every superhero blockbuster, an equal number are box office disasters. For each Avengers: Endgame or Iron Man 3, there is Shazam! Fury of the Gods and The Flash. Many superheroes have risen and fallen, only to rise again in a parade of reboots and colored tights.

The Blue Beetle first appeared in Fox Comics’ Mystery Men Comics #1 (1939). The titular hero, Dan Garet, took Vitamin 2X, which gave him “super-energy.” When Fox went out of business, Charlton Comics bought the character, reprinting some of the stories before launching its version in 1955. In 1964, Charlton re-envisioned the character: Dan Garrett acquired an extra “r” and “t” along with a new origin story centered around a mystical power-giving Egyptian scarab. In 1966, inventor Ted Kord became a gadget-centric Blue Beetle following Garrett’s death. Next, the character’s mythology was reinvented with both Blue Beetles—Garrett and Kord—in Americomics (published by AC Comics). 

Xolo Maridueña in a scene from ‘Blue Beetle.’ Photo courtesy of Warner Bros. Pictures/DC Comics

DC Comics bought Charlton’s superhero collection in 1983, changing Ted Kord to a billionaire industrialist. This Ted Kord appeared in various titles, including Justice League, Justice League America, and Birds of Prey, the identity continuing through 2005. DC presented a new Blue Beetle in 2006: teenager Jaime Reyes, whose powers came from the scarab, a piece of alien technology. While the initial series was cancelled due to poor sales, a revival came in 2011, disconnecting Reyes from previous Beetles. In 2016 Garrett and Kord were restored as previous Blue Beetles. Jamie Reyes was the focus of a limited series, Blue Beetle: Graduation Day, offered from 2022 to 2023. 

Enter DC studio’s Blue Beetle. After a prologue establishing Kord Industries locating the scarab in a frozen tundra, the action quickly shifts to bright-eyed pre-law college graduate Jamie Reyes returning home to the fictional Texan town of Palmera City. As he rides down the airport escalator, he adjusts his mortarboard. Turning to the gentleman beside him, he asks, “How do I look?” The man dryly responds, “Like you’re six figures in debt.” The smart quip establishes the tone and world that Jamie faces. 

Jamie is greeted by his family—mother, father, grandmother, sister, and eccentric uncle. During a celebratory meal, Jamie learns that his auto mechanic father lost his job due to a heart attack. They are now in danger of losing the family home, three months in arrears. His sister, Milagro, gets them a job working in the mansion of Kord Industries CEO Victoria Kord (whom Milagro describes with begrudging respect as “Cruella Kardashian”). They lose their positions when Jamie steps into a fight between Victoria and her niece, Jenny. In gratitude, Jenny offers Jamie employment and tells him to come to Kord Tower. 

The next day, Jenny discovers that Victoria uses the scarab for her OMAC (One Man Army Corps) project. Jenny steals the scarab in a fast-food hamburger container, but the laboratory director discovers its theft, and the building is put on lockdown. In danger of being caught, Jenny passes the box to Jamie, who takes it home, warning him not to open it or touch its contents.

Upon returning, the family pressures him to see what is in the box. In full view of his family, Jamie touches the scarab, which attaches itself to him. He is immediately surrounded by an exoskeleton/armored suit, complete with a guidance voice and myriad abilities, including flight and a host of defensive and offensive capacities. (Jenny later tells Jamie that the scarab is an ancient sentient weapon that has chosen him as host.) 

The plot is traditional: a struggle between the emerging hero and the dastardly villain. Jamie learns to harness the powers as Victoria sets out to reclaim the scarab. Victoria is a classic nemesis cut in the Bond villain mode. Susan Sarandon chews the scenery, practically singing the watchcry, “Sacrifices must be made for the greater good.” Her main conflict is with her brother’s daughter, Jenny (Bruna Marquezine), an underdeveloped and bland character. Victoria has a traditional henchman, Ignacio Carapax (Raoul Max Trujillo, expressive with only a few lines), with an important backstory. 

A scene from ‘Blue Beetle.’ Photo courtesy of Warner Bros. Pictures/DC Comics

There are references to Jenny’s father, Ted Kord, as well as Ted’s professor, archaeologist Dan Garrett, bringing the Blue Beetle’s entire history into superficial play. The effects are pure videogame, with an excessive amount of blue electricity. The action often resembles Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots. 

On the surface, little new or exciting is on offer. However, director Ángel Manuel Soto and writer Gareth Dunnet-Alcocer manage one important coup: the extraordinary bond of the Reyes family. 

Unlike many genre movies, Blue Beetle uses family not as a vehicle but as the core force. If the theme of familial bond is heavy-handed, the first-rate cast engages us on a genuinely human level. Xolo Maridueña shines as Jamie, easily holding center for the film’s stretched two hours. Damián Alcázar makes the father, Alberto, wise and touching, a patriarch of great understated strength. He is matched beautifully by Elpidia Carrillo as Rocio, Jamie’s mother. Adriana Barraza, as Nana, the matriarch, avoids cliché and has a fun eleventh-hour reveal. Belissa Escobedo brings humor and caring to Milagro, Jamie’s sister. George Lopez takes Uncle Rudy to the limit and beyond, both hilarious and touching. Each stands out individually, but as a whole, they are an exceptional unit. 

While there have been Latino superheroes, Blue Beetle puts representation at its center. An important moment comes late in the film involving the laboratory director (played with conflicted integrity by Harvey Guillén). The exchange leads to a bold choice, highlighting racial issues that weave through the film. 

In the end, Blue Beetle is uneven and occasionally uninspired, but a superior cast and a celebration of family let the film soar. Rated PG-13, Blue Beetle is now playing in local theaters. 

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The main cast of 'Haunted Mansion.' Photo courtesy of Disney

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

There’s an old joke (incorrectly credited to W.C. Fields):

“… And I spent a week in Philadelphia.”

“When?”

“Day before yesterday.”

Which brings us to Haunted Mansion.

The Haunted Mansion is one of Disney’s most famous and beloved dark rides. The Disneyland premiere (1969) was followed two years later by the Disney World/Magic Kingdom location. 

Before its current resurrection, Disney produced the (mostly) critically drubbed Eddie Murphy vehicle The Haunted Mansion (2003). However, the film grossed over $100 million worldwide. Muppets Haunted Mansion (2021) appeared on Disney+. The Muppets’ first Halloween special ran a brisk fifty minutes and was warmly received. 

Unlike the park ride, which lasts an entertaining eight minutes, the current film’s interminable two hours offers little but some strong performances trapped like the spirits in the Haunted Mansion. Katie Dippold (Parks and Recreation, The Heat, and the 2016 Ghostbusters) cobbled a mess of sitcom, slapstick, and reflection on grief. Justin Simien (director of the brilliant Dear White People) fails to elevate the movie, which arrives as dead as the house’s occupants. (When Disney first announced a reboot, Guillermo del Toro was attached to the project but exited in 2013. One wonders what the gifted del Toro would have done with this mainstream project.)

Haunted Mansion is set in New Orleans, “the Most Haunted City in America.” In a short prologue, astrophysicist Ben Matthias (a truly grounded and likable LaKeith Stanfield) meets Alyssa (brief but likable Charity Jordan), a ghost tour guide. While he questions her belief in the supernatural, he falls in love with and marries her. After she dies in a car accident, he gives up his scientific work and takes over her ghost tour. 

The ghosts of Gracey Manor. Photo courtesy of Disney

Fast forward to New York doctor Gabbie (strong but underserved Rosario Dawson) and her nine-year-old son, Travis (a sensitive and mature Chase W. Dillon), moving into Gracey Manor to turn it into a bed and breakfast. As they enter the house, they realize they are not alone.

A goofy priest, Father Kent (Owen Wilson doing a nice job as Owen Wilson), recruits Ben to photograph the ghosts with the camera he had developed to shoot dark matter. The skeptical Ben agrees to the proffered ten thousand dollars. When he leaves the mansion, he realizes the ghost of a mariner has followed him. And this is the crux of the story: anyone who enters the house takes the spirits with them. “Ghosts are like bedbugs: they latch on.” A charming image.

Psychic Harriet (always enjoyable Tiffany Haddish) and college historian Professor Bruce Davis (Danny DeVito, both benign and manic) join the quartet. The “dream team,” as Kent labels them, discovers the house’s history and that the inhabitants want their help to be free (though this gets a bit muddled in the end … and the middle … and part of the beginning).

They learn from the crystal ball-trapped Madame Leota (Jamie Lee Curtis—remember her?—she just won an Academy Award) that William Gracey bought the mansion and engaged Leota to contact his dead wife. However, an evil entity tricked Gracey into taking his own life. The malignant force is Alistair Crumb, also known as the Hatbox Ghost (voiced for some reason by Jared Leto). There is talk of the 999 spirits and the need for a willing victim to make one thousand allowing Crump to escape the mansion. (Something like that.) The “climax” is the two worlds—the spectral and the real—colliding.

The movie suggests ghost movies of earlier eras: Bob Hope’s 1932 comedy The Ghost Breakers and William Castle’s creepy 13 Ghosts (1960) come to mind. But Haunted Mansion manages to be simultaneously fluff and leaden. (This calls to mind the old brain teaser: Which is heavier—a ton of feathers or a ton of cement? Answer: One hundred and nineteen minutes of Haunted Mansion.)

The effects replicate the Disney attraction. The low-tech feel serves the commercial advertisement but just makes the movie look cheap. The requisite cobwebs drape the dwelling, and the well-known Haunted Mansion denizens appear (the Bride, the Hitchhikers, etc.). Occasionally, the film nods towards introspection: Harriet speaks of “ghost winks”—messages of hope and comfort from people who have passed on. This heartening concept wandered in from another film.

But too often, the film relies on forced, clumsy humor. Punchlines include a joke about a Yankee Candle and an uncancelled Amazon subscription, a pen and pad purchased at CVS, and sage bought at Costco. Characters snore, and chairs fly down steps, dumping the occupants in mud. Hilarity reigns.

The cast does its best, with Stanfield and Dillon as standouts. A sprinkling of cameos—Marilu Henner as a tourist, Winona Ryder (uncredited, but very funny) as a tour guide, and Daniel Levy as her husband—are fun but do little more than distract for a moment.

Ultimately, Haunted Mansion is a ride not worth taking. Rated PG-13, the film is now playing in local theaters.

 

Molly Gordon and Ben Platt in a scene from 'Theater Camp' Photo courtesy of Searchlight Pictures/20th Century Studios

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

While recruiting campers for her AdirondACTS camp, director Joan Rubinsky (Amy Sedaris) is sent into a seizure-induced coma by the strobe light in a middle school production of Bye Bye Birdie. Her slacker son, Troy (Jimmy Tatro), takes over the struggling enterprise, ineptly mismanaging its staff of well-meaning but mildly narcissistic misfits. In addition, he must deal with the camp’s failing finances and imminent foreclosure. 

The simple and familiar premise—camp on the verge of closing—sets up a highly enjoyable niche outing, following in the footsteps of the slightly more satirical Camp (2003) and the equally intense Stage Door Manor documentary Stagedoor (2006). 

Based on a short film of the same name, Molly Gordon, along with co-director Nick Lieberman, Ben Platt, and Noah Galvin, has fashioned the heartfelt mockumentary Theater Camp, which delivers consistent laughs but never lacks heart. 

The film follows the four-week theatrical process, from auditions to opening. While mounting productions of Damn Yankees, Cats, and Crucible, Jr. (a hilarious joke to those familiar with the Jr. concept), the focus is on the annual original musical, written by the drama director, Amos Klobuchar (Platt), and the music director, Rebecca-Diane (Gordon). The project, Joy, Still (a bio-musical of the camp founder), takes up most of the film’s rehearsal and performance focus and manages to be simultaneously ridiculous and sincere. 

Perhaps the mix of these tonal elements—ridiculous and sincere—best describes Theater Camp. While hurling barbs at theatre training and its many pretensions, it never loses its love for its subject. This truth is best reflected in the campers who shine in their own ways, displaying raw talent, fearlessness, and pure desire to perform. They represent a true demographic cross-section, bonded in the joy of all things theatrical. 

The staff are an over-the-top crew but somehow make the caricatures believable. Platt and Gordon infuse the codependent pair with the dysfunction common to longtime theatrical collaborators who cannot communicate. Caroline Aaron plays the managing director with a mix of tough love and the awe of the non-artistic. Without losing the humanity, Nathan Lee Graham camps up the choreographer, Clive DeWitt, as does Owen Thiele as the costumer, Gigi Charbonier. 

Ayo Edebiri makes the fraud, Janet, a charming grifter; her teaching of a mask class is one of the satirical highlights. Tatro’s lost Troy is likable, and his gradual awareness of the beauty of what his mother has created is genuine and touching. But it is Noah Galvin, as the jack-of-all-trades stage manager, Glenn, who provides the film’s biggest surprise. Galvin’s transformation at the climax is a revelation and a marvel. 

Thematically, Theater Camp centers on being “one of us.” The staff and campers are cut from the same mold. They are the ones who are never picked first or second (or third or fourth) for teams. They are social outcasts in the outside world. But at AdirondACTS, they are not just accepted but celebrated. 

Towards the end, the camp hosts a mixer with the neighboring camp, the privileged Lakeside. The Lakeside campers view the boisterous, outgoing theatre kids with not just disdain but the view that they are “other.” The film’s creators smartly refrain from giving the Lakeside campers commentary; the contempt is clear but unspoken. For all its problems—and they are myriad—AdirondACTS provides an outlet and a haven for these budding artists. 

In the wake of artistic blockbusters (Barbie, Oppenheimer), Theater Camp is a lightweight diversion and an enjoyable slice of summer fun.

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

Cillian Murphy as J. Robert Oppenheimer in a scene from the film. Photo courtesy of Universal Pictures

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

J. Robert Oppenheimer (1904-1967) is considered a founding father of the American school of theoretical physics. His work included the exploration of astrophysics, nuclear physics, spectroscopy, and quantum field theory. In the 1930s, he wrote papers suggesting the existence of what are now labeled black holes.

At the dawn of World War II, Oppenheimer was instrumental in developing the atomic bomb (often referred to as its “father”). In June 1942, he was appointed scientific director of the Manhattan Project and supervised the construction of the Los Alamos laboratories.

Following the War, Oppenheimer assumed the chairmanship of the General Advisory Committee to the Atomic Energy Commission (AEC). In this role, he voiced opposition to the development of the hydrogen bomb. In 1953, at the height of the Cold War and Red Scare, Oppenheimer was accused of communist sympathies, and the AEC canceled his security clearance.

Matt Damon and Cillian Murphy in a scene from ‘Oppenheimer’. Image courtesy of Universal Pictures

In the year’s best film so far, director Christopher Nolan’s epic Oppenheimer traces the controversial figure’s rise, fall, and redemption. Nolan’s screenplay, closely adapted from Kai Bird and Martin J. Sherwin’s 2005 Pulitzer Prize-winning biography American Prometheus: The Triumph and Tragedy of J. Robert Oppenheimer, runs on three timelines: the buildup of the Manhattan Project, leading to the dropping of the atomic bomb on Hiroshima and Nagasaki; the AEC’s rigged hearing that stripped Oppenheimer of both prestige and access; and Lewis Strauss’s senate confirmation hearing for Secretary of Commerce.

Many films tackle issues of scientists and scientific discovery: The Imitation Game (2014), A Beautiful Mind (2001), Hidden Figures (2016), and The Theory of Everything (2014) are examples of some of the stronger genre offerings. However, these films often stress the personal elements or water down the science. In the case of Oppenheimer, the epic but breathtakingly paced three hours manages to keep science in the forefront without losing interpersonal relationships.

The film begins with twenty-two-year-old Oppenheimer struggling with anxiety at Cambridge’s Cavendish Laboratory. After an aborted attempt to poison his professor, Oppenheimer meets Niels Bohr, who suggests he complete his education in Germany. Upon graduation, Oppenheimer begins teaching at the University of California, Berkley, and the California Institute of Technology. The film balances his day-to-day life, including his left-leaning politics, with an attempt to show his genius through strong, abstract imagery. 

Much of Oppenheimer plays in lectures and classrooms, as well as offices and laboratories. Nolan keeps the action moving and the stakes perpetually high. The rise of Hitler deeply affects the scientific community, many of whose members were Jewish. In 1942, General Leslie Groves recruits Oppenheimer to lead the Manhattan Project. Oppenheimer gathers an extraordinary team to secretly develop the atomic bomb in Los Alamos, New Mexico. Throughout, the scientists debate the issues of the long-term and far-reaching effects of their actions. In addition, the constant specter of espionage hovers over the project. 

The film builds to the first of several milestones with the Trinity, the test of the atomic bomb on July 16, 1945. Simultaneously, it highlights the perpetually shifting collaborations, suspicions, setbacks, and infighting throughout the three years of development. 

Marking his sixth collaboration with Nolan, Cillian Murphy delivers a flawless performance as the gifted, complex Oppenheimer. He brings a range of shades, from the self-important to the self-doubting. Following the dropping of the atom bomb, his simple, devastated, “And now I am the condemned. Destroyer of worlds,” is of Hamlet proportions. He manifests the struggle between the intense scientist and the man drawn to the power given to him as leader of the Manhattan Project. A womanizer who loves his wife, a father who shows little interest in his family, and a man later plagued by his choices, Murphy delivers a truly Oscar-worthy performance. 

Equal to Murphy is Robert Downey, Jr., as the seemingly mild, almost benign, but ultimately vindictive Lewis Strauss, who offered Oppenheimer the directorship of Princeton’s Institute for Advanced Study. Downey, Jr. gives one of his finest, most dimensional performances as Strauss’s real and imagined slights drive him to take down the scientist. As with Murphy, Downey, Jr., will most likely receive an Academy Award nomination (if not a win). 

Emily Blunt makes alcoholic and volatile wife, Katherine, a frustrating and noble figure. Matt Damon’s General Groves is the company man who sees the bigger picture. Florence Pugh’s independent communist Jean Tatlock brings both sensual and tragic qualities to Oppenheimer’s sometimes lover. David Krumholtz is powerfully understated as Isidor Rabi, a voice of wisdom and conscience, as is Tom Conti as the knowing Albert Einstein. 

In the Senate confirmation hearing, Rami Malek’s David Hill smartly projects shades of Joseph Welch taking down Joseph McCarthy. Kenneth Branagh makes a strong cameo as Niels Bohr, and Gary Oldman, one of the greatest actors of his generation, is indelible as President Truman. Josh Hartnett, Casey Affleck, Jason Clarke, Matthew Modine, and Tony Goldwyn are among the dozens of supporting performers who comprise this exceptional ensemble. 

Hoyte van Hoytema’s astonishing cinematography enhances and highlights the shift in time and place, perfectly complementing the work of production designer Ruth De Jong. Every element is in perfect synchronicity, from costumes to soundtrack. But Nolan, as Oppenheimer’s creator, manifested this exceptional undertaking. He skillfully blended science, politics, and morality into a cinematic gem that will be honored now and remembered as a work as complicated and brilliant as its subject. 

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

Margot Robbie and Ryan Gosling in a scene from 'Barbie' Photo courtesy of Warner Bros. Entertainment

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

What can you say about someone who has had over two hundred careers—fashion editor, science teacher, paramedic, paratrooper, Canadian Mountie, aircraft engineer—but was quoted as saying, “Math is tough?” While she beat Neil Armstrong to the moon, she encouraged her followers to “Get your sparkle on—show the world where you belong.” 

Featured from toy shelves to The Nutcracker (to The Magic of Pegasus 3-D), Barbie—full name Barbara Millicent Roberts—first appeared in March 1959. The eleven-inch plastic figure was the brainchild of Ruth Handler (Mattel, Inc. co-founder, with husband, Elliot). Inspired by the German Bild Lilli doll, the first Barbie sold for $3. Today, Barbie is a multi-billion-dollar industry.

Barbie’s world includes her on-again-off-again boyfriend Ken, best friend Midge, and sister Skipper. The first celebrity Barbie was Twiggy (1967). Barbie first ran for president in 1992 and has been on the campaign trail at least seven times since. She will continue to evolve and be reinvented. But as busy as she is, Barbie has now made time for a feature film. 

Director Greta Gerwig (Lady Bird, Little Women) reteams with Frances Ha screenwriter Noah Baumbach (The Squid and the Whale, Marriage Story, Margot at the Wedding) to direct “big screen” Barbie. They have written a fascinating societal exploration, presented through the prism of the alternate world, Barbie Land. Barbie is no theme park ride or action toy translated to a mass market money grab. The film is a serious meditation on gender roles and expectations. It takes on multiple overlapping themes—perhaps too many to answer—and resonates long after its brisk two-hour running time.

Margot Robbie in a scene from ‘Barbie’. Photo courtesy of Warner Bros. Entertainment

Barbie deals with a tear in the separation of Barbie Land and the real world, a rip connected to Barbie’s doubts about her perfect existence. She leaves the female/Barbie-dominated universe to learn that women have not achieved the positions of strength they have in her native existence. Initially, the comedic conflict sparks from the clash of the two planes. Still, the bigger issue arises from Ken’s awareness of the disproportionate power allotted to men outside Barbie Land. (In Barbie Land, the Kens are relegated to a peripheral existence, not holding the key positions taken by the Barbies.) Ken’s epiphany causes Barbie Land to devolve into a world of toxic masculinity dominated by the Kens. The host of mindless bros’ tenuous grasp turns the idyllic utopia into an almost hellish frat-scape, Kendom Land. The fact that Ken somehow connects patriarchy to horses speaks volumes.

The resolution strangely errs on the side of hijinks, with the Barbies righting their world through a subterfuge that plays on Kens’ easily flattered egos. The commentary is strong but subsumes the message of self-awareness and empowerment. They fool the doltish Kens rather than directly engage them. However, in the end, the Kens gain a modicum of self-awareness. 

Barbie manages to be comedy, spoof, satire, and message movie, sometimes in turn, other times simultaneously. From its 2001: A Space Odyssey opening to its exquisitely conceived Barbie Land that is both vibrantly two- and three-dimensional, Barbie is a delight, with visual jokes, hilarious asides, and social commentary.

Margot Robbie’s in all ways flawless Barbie proves the actor’s exceptional skills and depth. She manifests a true living doll but allows for both growth and arc, never missing a beat or a laugh. Ryan Gosling makes the ideal foil, as the mostly clueless Ken, coming to a misplaced awareness. The supporting Barbies are effective on different levels, as are the coterie of Kens. 

America Ferrera’s real-world Gloria has the most memorable moment in the film—a speech about the double standard women face daily. Her passion and laser focus give weight without weighing down the significance. Ariana Greenblatt, as her daughter, Sasha, neatly represents today’s generation of detached teens searching for connection. Michael Cera’s sad sack Allan is subtly hysterical.

Rhea Pearlman offers the luminous, not-so-spectral spirit of Barbie creator Ruth Handler. In her two scenes, she manages to be heartbreakingly human and otherworldly wise. She speaks as the head and heart of possibility, which was her inspiration in creating the doll. She is somehow Dumbledore to Barbie’s Harry. 

The film’s major misfire is the comedic Mattel corporate board, headed by Will Ferrell, doing Will Ferrell at his most Will Ferrell. The painfully predictable slapstick seems forced in an otherwise sharp and meditative story.

*Reviewing is the definition of subjective. I left unsure of exactly how I felt about what I had witnessed. I also knew that I was not its true demographic. 

Curious, I engaged with people exiting the film and reached out to others over the next few days. These ranged from adult mothers and daughters with complementary opinions to viewers in their twenties and thirties. Three slightly dazed mothers with a half dozen girls under age eight contemplated how much their young charges had—or had not—understood. 

While a few attendees were mildly disappointed, the consensus was that Barbie was an effective and affecting film. Older viewers seem most linked by the nostalgia, reflecting bittersweetly on childhood hours. However, recurring comments tended towards empowerment, identity, and reflection of girlhood/womanhood. The film seriously considered the day-to-day struggles of being female and cultural over-sexualization. But Barbie also symbolizes the ability to change, hearkening to her creation as representing myriad possibilities. Many were deeply moved by the montage of women throughout the twentieth and twenty-first centuries; almost all cited Gloria’s monologue as a high point. The most common refrain was, “I felt seen.”

Ultimately, Barbie transcends. As a work and work of art, it accomplished something extraordinary, something “more than.” It has let its audience “feel seen.” And that alone makes Barbie exceptional. 

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