Buzz Blog

Better Man ***1/2
Count me all-in on the trend—after the “Pharrell-as-LEGO” documentary Piece by Piece and this oddball endeavor—of bypassing the Walk Hard musical biopic clichés through imaginative representation of the central figure. In this case, that figure is British pop icon Robbie Williams, whose life story—from lower-class kid to boy-band icon to troubled superstar—is chronicled by turning Williams into a digitally animated chimpanzee (voiced by Williams, and motion-capture performed by Jonno Davies). The character logic for the decision tracks through the portrayal of Williams as a self-loathing fame whore trying to work through a lot of daddy issues, even if you miss the passing use of the word “unevolved.” Plot-wise, it’s not radically different from a lot of portrayals of messed-up artists trying to keep their heads above water while bottoming out in substance abuse, but director Michael Gracey (The Greatest Showman) makes the most of the jukebox-musical format for a bold and lively presentation, most notably in the street-party marking the fame of Williams’ band Take That set to “Rock DJ,” and the montage of his relationship with fellow pop star Nicole Appleton (Raechelle Banno) set to “She’s the One.” The overall effect is both tremendously entertaining and a format that helps to humanize the notorious “bad boy”—which is kind of ironic, since the version we see of Williams isn’t actually human. Available Jan. 10 in theaters. (R)

Den of Thieves: Pantera **1/2
Meat-and-potatoes filmmaking has become pretty rare in theaters, but as was often the case in the original 2018 Den of Thieves, writer/director Christian Gudegast can’t always decide what kind of meat to serve with what kind of potatoes. In the wake of getting played by thief Donnie Wilson (O’Shea Jackson Jr.), L.A. Sherrif’s Department investigator “Big Nick” O’Brien (Gerard Butler) finally locates Donnie in France preparing for his next big score—and Big Nick starts to wonder if there’s more to be gained on the “robbers” side of “cops & robbers.” For a while, it starts to feel like this reunion is going to turn into a buddy comedy along the lines of Midnight Run, building a chemistry between Jackson and Butler that the first movie's premise didn’t really allow. But eventually it settles into heist thriller mechanics—and unfortunately, the central robbery is kind of a sluggish endeavor, and over-long besides. Then again, that applies to the movie as a whole, with Gudegast once again unable to resist piling on subplots that don’t really stick. Eventually we get at least one pretty nifty car-chase-and-shootout sequence on twisty mountain roads, but if Gudegast is determined to make this a franchise, he’d be well served to figure out where these movies really work, and how much fat he can cut away from his meat and potatoes. Available Jan. 10 in theaters. (R)

The Last Showgirl **
A premise like this one—about a 50-something Las Vegas showgirl named Shelly (Pamela Anderson) facing the prospect of ending her career when her long-running casino show is cancelled—seems tailor-made for celebrating a veteran actor. The operative word there, of course, is “actor,” which is not exactly Ms. Anderson’s forte. There’s certainly some potential for the character in Kate Gersten’s script, which finds Shelly looking at her gaudy T-and-A spectacle with rose-colored glasses in order to justify the choices she has made, including being an absentee mother to her daughter Hannah (Billie Lourd). Anderson, unfortunately, doesn’t really have the chops to find nuance in that self-delusion, to the extent that Shelly merely comes off as kinda dumb. It doesn’t help that there’s a potentially far more interesting story in that of Shelly’s friend, former colleague and aging gambling-addict cocktail waitress Annette, played with gusto by Jamie Lee Curtis. When Annette breaks into a dance performance set to “Total Eclipse of the Heart,” it’s the kind of expression of defiance in the face of “age-appropriate” expectations that we never get from Shelly’s story. Throw in a few other half-realized sub-plots in just over 80 minutes, including the surrogate family of Shelly’s fellow dancers and her relationship with the show’s director (Dave Bautista), and you end up with a thin attempt at character study that could stand a bit more studying. Available Jan. 10 in theaters. (R)