Buzz Blog

The Fall Guy ***
It seems only fitting that the summer movie season should kick off with a feature that’s consistently effervescent and entertaining, and rarely pushes at being anything more. This loose adaptation of the 1980s Lee Majors-starring TV series casts Ryan Gosling as Colt Seavers, a veteran stuntman who experiences an on-set accident that breaks his back and ends his relationship with aspiring director Jody (Emily Blunt); 18 months later, attempts a comeback on a sci-fi epic that marks Jody’s feature directing debut, and requires Colt to hunt down the movie’s missing star (Aaron Taylor-Johnson). Director David Leitch (Deadpool 2)—himself a veteran stuntman—and screenwriter Drew Pearce have fun with the chaos of a movie set, and fill the movie with plenty of practical action effects that are engaging without ever being truly memorable. More than that, it’s a showcase for the kind of movie-star charm and charisma that feels like an endangered species, as Gosling and Blunt revel in their on-screen chemistry and the way Jody’s movie serves as a barely-disguised metaphor for Colt and Jody’s relationship. It’s a bit surprising that this is so much more effective as a romantic comedy than it is as an action movie, and that the breezy tone leaves no room for concern that the guy who has experienced a broken back is repeatedly being thrown against walls, floors, windows, etc. The story’s weightlessness still works, even if clashes at times with the real-world dangers of making movies. Available May 3 in theaters. (PG-13)

The Idea of You **1/2
Is it a sufficient condition for a romantic dramedy like this to just showcase attractive people being hot with one another? That’s the intriguing question posed by this adaptation of Robinne Lee’s novel, about a 40-year-old Los Angeles-based gallery owner and recently-divorced single mom named Solène (Anne Hathaway) whose meet-cute with 24-year-old boy-band member Hayes (Nicholas Galitzine) turns into a whirlwind romance. Director Michael Showalter (who co-adapted the screenplay with Jennifer Westfeldt) provides plenty of entertaining flirtatious banter as our protagonists get acquainted and the chemistry is undeniably present when things eventually get physical. But the ensuing plot dynamics go in exactly the expected directions—including the tabloid attention on the pop star’s “cougar” girlfriend—while leaving both of the main characters feeling frustratingly thin. Is there no reason to wonder, for example, whether there’s at least a little component of revenge towards her ex-husband (Reid Scott) leaving her for a younger woman? The performances are solid for as much as they are asked to do, and maybe this is all just a wonderful wish-fulfillment fantasy for any woman who once dreamed of hooking up with the guy whose poster was on her bedroom wall. Except the whole point here seems to be that this relationship is supposed to be more than that. Available May 2 via Prime Video. (R)

It’s Only Life After All ***
Whether it was a necessity of COVID or a more deliberate artistic decision, director Alexandria Bombach’s choice to interview the members of folk-rock duo Indigo Girls—Amy Ray and Emily Saliers—mostly separately results in something more intriguing than if they had been side-by-side throughout. The documentary tracks their 40-year musical (but never romantic, they clarify) partnership from meeting as Georgia high-school classmates, through their rise to semi-celebrity, as well as the possible impact on their career trajectory of being both openly gay and openly activist in their political beliefs. Bombach benefits from Ray being a compulsive documenter herself, with decades worth of cassette tapes and amateur video chronicling their entire career. But the best material comes in the present-day interviews, as Ray and Saliers reflect on their individual journeys and insecurities: their respective thoughts about harsh reviews from their early years; Ray expressing her doubts about measuring up to Saliers as a songwriter; Saliers opening up about her years of alcoholism. The two-hour run time starts to feel a bit long, and Bombach does occasionally short-change us on what seems like key details, like the time frame for Saliers’ path towards sobriety. It’s still an enlightening piece of biographical journalism overall, thanks to the choice to focus not just on the professional life of Indigo Girls, but the personal world of each individual Indigo Girl. Available May 3 at Broadway Centre Cinemas. (NR)

Jeanne Du Barry **
Many biographical films struggle to make the leap from “this person existed” to “yes, but why should I care”—and this is one of them. Mononymous multi-hyphenate Maïwenn co-wrote, directed and stars as Jeanne Vaubernier, a 17th-century Frenchwoman of low birth who becomes a successful courtesan, first catching the eye of nobleman Jean Du Barry (Melvil Poupaud) and eventually becoming the favored mistress of King Louis XV (Johnny Depp). Maïwenn mounts a lavish production, focusing mostly on tension between Jeanne and the king’s haughty daughters—and, eventually, the threat to Jeanne’s status created by the arrival of future queen Marie Antoinette (Pauline Pollman). But while Maïwen’s performance effectively captures the brash personality that would scandalize courtiers, there’s not much sense for what we’re supposed to glean from her rise and fall, or how much sympathy we’re supposed to have for her simply by virtue of being a thumb in the eye of the aristocracy. And the same applies to Depp’s portrayal of the King, who is sometimes interesting in his ability to make his unhappiness clear without uttering a word, yet generally seems more amused by Jeanne than genuinely affectionate towards her. The result is an odd sort of love story that expects the culture clash to be inherently worth our attention, even if the characters are thinly drawn. Available May 2 at Megaplex Jordan Commons. (NR)

The Old Oak ***
For more than 50 years, Ken Loach has chronicled the British working class in ways not always subtle, but always earnest—and his self-proclaimed final feature isn’t about to change things. In a village in the North England county of Durham, the arrival of a group of Syrian refugees causes the potential for disruption. That’s particularly true for TJ (Dave Turner), proprietor of the local pub The Old Oak, who befriends one of the new arrivals, a young woman named Yara (Ebla Mari). Loach’s naturalistic style and frequent use of non-professional actors helps temper his tendency to gild the lily, as when TJ relates a story to Yara and Loach can’t resist the more sentimental choice to show what he’s telling. And when he and longtime screenwriting collaborator Paul Laverty are offering a narrative about the tendency of underclasses to scapegoat immigrants as the source of their ills, you can bet that someone will offer a literal speech to that effect. Still, there’s a pleasure in watching members of this community slowly find common ground with one another, and Loach has always found a way to make people batting around ideas compelling to watch—even if, in this case, it’s downtrodden locals rationalizing their xenophobia. There’s a thematic thread here about whether hope is a demonstration of strength or foolhardiness, and even when Loach pushes his buttons too firmly, it’s hard not to get emotional about the idea that we really can do better, and be better. Available May 3 at Broadway Centre Cinemas. (NR)

The People’s Joker **1/2
To the extent that it’s possible, I think I understand what Vera Drew was going for in her brash, copyright-threatening feature; I just wish it had been less ragged about accomplishing it. Drew co-wrote, directed, edited and stars as Joker the Harlequin, a would-be stand-up comedian in a dystopian Gotham City where comedy is a cartel controlled by the government, and where her gender transition threatens the social order. It’s clear there’s plenty of autobiographical material in this tale of a trans woman wrestling with her unhappy childhood and an unhealthy first romantic relationship, and the rawness with which Drew approaches that material—particularly the tensions with his mother (Lynn Downey)—makes it undeniably affecting. That narrative, however, is wrapped up in something that borrows from every possible media incarnation of Batman and his rogues’ gallery, employing lo-fi visuals, animation, talking action figures and more as ways to suggest how traditional pop-culture hero stories have to be co-opted by queer people to apply to their own lives. And it’s just not as effective at genre satire as it is at sincere reflection, especially when Drew also takes broad shots at Lorne Michaels (voiced by Maria Bamford) and the dominant paradigms of the comedy business. The result is sometimes funny, often heartfelt and just a bit too busy for its own good. Available May 5 – 7 at Broadway Centre Cinemas. (NR)

Stress Positions **
I fear that for the next several years, filmmakers will be turning to the COVID lockdown era to imbue narratives with added significance, without actually having anything particularly interesting to say about it. Writer/director Theda Hammel—working from a story by Hammel and Faheem Ali—carves a slice of life out a cohort of mostly queer folk dealing with summer 2020 in New York City: Terry (John Early), a terrified-of-COVID gay man living in the property of his soon-to-be-ex-husband; Bahlul (Qaher Harhash), Terry’s professional model nephew, housebound by a broken leg; Karla (Hammel), a trans masseuse; and Vanessa (Amy Zimmer), Karla’s author girlfriend. Their conversations roam and ramble around issues of identity, though that’s even more pronounced in the voice-over narration provided by Bahlul about his mixed-race upbringing. In theory, this should be one of those tales about “families of choice,” except that all of these people seem barely able to tolerate one another, and are barely tolerable for viewers to spend time with. It’s all wrapped up in a cavalcade of signifiers for the pandemic—mountains of hoarded toilet paper; banging pots and pans for first responders; a constant stream of food deliveries—and maybe, if you look at it out of the corner of your eye, you could see Hammel wrestling this into a parallel for another virus that upended gay life. If so, it’s just another one of the too-many-things she’s trying to cram into one 95-minute package. Available May 3 at Broadway Centre Cinemas. (NR)

Turtles All the Way Down ***
The young-adult novels of John Green (The Fault in Our Stars, Paper Towns) and their accompanying film adaptations have occasionally been divisive, but for my money, filmmakers have generally understood how to capture both the author’s understanding of the big emotions of adolescence, and his refusal to engage in simplistic happy endings. This one follows high-schooler Aza Holmes (Isabela Merced), whose lifelong battle with obsessive-compulsive disorder complicates her re-connection with Davis (Felix Mallard), the boy she met years earlier at a grief recovery camp. There’s also a strong story involving Aza’s relationship with her BFF Daisy, an angle which is elevated by Green’s grasp of volatile friendships and by single-named actor Cree’s dynamic, charismatic performance as Daisy; it’s the kind of work that makes you want to watch for her name going forward. Mostly, director Hannah Marks and the screenwriting team are interested in getting us inside Aza’s head as she struggles with her anxiety “spirals,” accomplished both visually and through a creative sound design. The film still has to deal with the subplot involving Davis’s fugitive billionaire father, which always felt like an overly-convoluted way to connect Aza and Davis. Still, this is a story that treats mental illness with the seriousness and complexity it deserves, allowing the relationships to develop while never pretending that youthful romance can overcome every kind of obstacle. Available May 2 via Max. (PG-13)