ReportWire

Tag: Hong Chau

  • Hugh Jackman’s Talking Sheep Track Down His Murderer in ‘The Sheep Detectives’ Trailer

    [ad_1]

    Hugh Jackman plays a shepherd whose livestock are ready to take a bite out of crime in the trailer for The Sheep Detectives.

    Amazon MGM Studios releases director  Kyle Balda’s mystery film in theaters May 8, 2026. Emma Thompson, Nicholas Braun, Nicholas Galitzine, Molly Gordon and Hong Chau round out the cast. The performers voicing the flock of sheep are Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Bryan Cranston, Chris O’Dowd, Regina Hall, Patrick Stewart, Bella Ramsey, Brett Goldstein and Rhys Darby.

    The Sheep Detectives centers on George (Jackman), who reads detective novels to his sheep as he puts them to sleep. When a shocking crime rattles the farm, the sheep must work together to lead the investigation.

    “We found George on the grass, and he’s not moving,” one of the sheep says in the trailer. “Our shepherd was murdered.”

    Another woolly friends adds, “The policeman is completely hopeless. We need to help him.”

    Balda (Minions: The Rise of Gru) makes his live-action directorial debut from a script by Craig Mazin that is based on author Leonie Swann’s 2005 novel, Three Bags Full. Lindsay Doran, Tim Bevan and Eric Fellner serve as producers.

    Footage from the movie debuted earlier this year at CinemaCon, with Jackman and Thompson teasing the project in a video segment. “The movie is a bit of a whodunit, which is always fun,” Jackman said in one behind-the-scenes clip. “The movie has such heart.”

    Jackman can be soon be seen opposite Kate Hudson in Craig Brewer’s Song Sung Blue, hitting theaters on Christmas from Focus Features. He also stars as the titular hero in Michael Sarnoski’s forthcoming A24 film The Death of Robin Hood.

    [ad_2]

    Ryan Gajewski

    Source link

  • What to stream: Adam Sandler, John Legend, ‘Only Murders in the Building’ and Star Wars Outlaws

    What to stream: Adam Sandler, John Legend, ‘Only Murders in the Building’ and Star Wars Outlaws

    [ad_1]

    “The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power” returning for its second season and Adam Sandler’s first comedy special since 2018 are some of the new television, films, music and games headed to a device near you.

    Also among the streaming offerings worth your time as selected by The Associated Press’ entertainment journalists: John Legend offers his first-ever children’s album, season four of “Only Murders in the Building” shifts to Los Angeles and DJ and dance producer Zedd is back with an album after nearly a decade.

    NEW MOVIES TO STREAM

    “The Fall Guy” is finally coming to Peacock, where it will be streaming starting Friday, Aug. 30, alongside an “extended cut” version. It might not have reached the blockbuster heights the studio dreamed about during its theatrical run, but it’s pure delight: A comedy, action, romance that soars thanks to the charisma of its stars. Based on the 1980s Lee Majors television series (he gets a cameo), the film features Ryan Gosling as a stunt man, Emily Blunt as his director and dream girl, Aaron Taylor-Johnson as an egotistical movie star and “Ted Lasso’s” Hannah Waddingham as a Diet Coke slurping producer.

    — Ishana Night Shyamalan’s thriller, “The Watchers,” in which Dakota Fanning plays an artist stranded in western Ireland where mysterious creatures lurk and stalk in the night, begins streaming on MAX on Friday, Aug. 30.

    — Emma Stone gives a performance (and interpretive dance) worth watching in “ Kinds of Kindness,” her latest collaboration with Yorgos Lanthimos fresh on the heels of her Oscar-winning turn in “Poor Things.” The film, streaming on Hulu on Friday, Aug. 30, is a triptych with a big ensemble cast including Willem Dafoe, Jesse Plemons (who won a prize for his performance at Cannes), Hong Chau, Margaret Qualley, Mamoudou Athie and Joe Alwyn. Jocelyn Noveck, in her Associated Press review, described it as “a meditation on our free will and the ways we willingly forfeit it to others — in the workplace, at home, and in religion.” Noveck wrote that the “Stone-Lanthimos pairing… is continuing to nurture an aspect of Stone’s talents that increasingly sets her apart: Her fearlessness and the obvious joy she derives from it.”

    — Somehow the Yorgos Lanthimos film is not the most eccentric new streaming offering this week. That title goes to “ Sasquatch Sunset,” Nathan and David Zellner’s experimental film about a family of sasquatches just living their lives. Starring an essentially unrecognizable Jesse Eisenberg and Riley Keough (in addition to Nathan Zellner), this Sundance curiosity begins streaming on Paramount+ on Monday. In his review for the AP, Mark Kennedy wrote that it is “a bewildering 90-minute, narrator-less and wordless experiment that’s as audacious as it is infuriating. It’s not clear if everyone was high making it or we should be while watching it.”

    AP Film Writer Lindsey Bahr

    NEW MUSIC TO STREAM

    — DJ and dance producer Zedd is back with an album after nearly a decade, “Telos.” The first single is the appropriately titled “Out of Time” featuring Bea Miller, a dreamy tune with atmospheric strings that builds into a dancefloor banger. Zedd has revealed that he started writing “Out Of Time” way back in 2015 but was never able to finish it. That changed with Bea — “her voice added an emotional depth that completed the song. ‘Out Of Time’ really encapsulates the DNA of the Telos album, which is why I chose it to be the song that introduces this new era,” he says.

    — If you’re into a slower change of pace, check out John Legend, who releases his first children’s album, “My Favorite Dream,” on Friday, Aug. 30. It’s produced by the chamber pop polymath Sufjan Stevens and centers on universal themes like love, safety, family and dreams across nine original tracks, two covers, a solo piano track and three bonus covers of Fisher-Price songs.

    — Get ready for a blast of K-pop — on your television. Apple TV+ has the six part documentary “K-Pop Idols,” a behind-the-scenes look at the highly competitive reality of K-pop stardom, starting Friday, Aug. 30. It features Jessi, CRAVITY and BLACKSWAN as they learn choreography and pull everything together to seize the stage. Producers say the series “follows the superstars through trials and triumphs, breaking down cultural and musical barriers in K-pop with passion, creativity and determination as they chase their dreams.”

    RZA takes a sharp turn as a classical composer with the album “A Ballet Through Mud.” The composition made its debut in the form of a ballet last year, performed by the Colorado Symphony Orchestra. Composed and scored by the Wu-Tang Clan star, the piece mirrors his journey from growing up in the projects in New York City to famous artist, “weaving in tales of love, loss, exploration, Buddhist monks, and a journey ‘through mud.‘” RZA says he began the project early in the pandemic after rediscovering notebooks full of lyrics he had written as a teenager. “The inspiration for ‘A Ballet Through Mud’ comes from my earliest creative output as a teenager, but its themes are universal — love, exploration, and adventure,” he says.

    AP Entertainment Writer Mark Kennedy

    NEW SHOWS TO STREAM

    — Adam Sandler has the feels in his new Netflix special “Adam Sandler: Love You” featuring his standup and trademark comedy songs. It’s directed by Josh Safdie who — with his brother Benny — co-directed Sandler in the 2019 movie “Uncut Gems.” “Love You” is Sandler’s first comedy special since 2018. It premieres Tuesday on Netflix.

    — Charles, Oliver and Mabel (Steve Martin, Martin Short and Selena Gomez) head to Los Angeles in season four of “Only Murders in the Building,” because their podcast is being turned into a film. Their Hollywood life is interrupted when another murder occurs, meaning the trio has a new case to cover. Eugene Levy, Zach Galifianakis and Eva Longoria join the cast. “Only Murders in the Building” premieres Tuesday on Hulu.

    — A new animated series in the “Terminator” universe comes to Netflix on Thursday. It follows new characters voiced by “House of the Dragon” actor Sonoya Mizuno, Timothy Olyphant, André Holland Rosario Dawson and Ann Dowd.

    — Season two of “The House of the Dragon” has aired in its entirety on HBO and if your fantasy itch still needs to be scratched, “The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power” returns for its second season Thursday on Prime Video. The story is set in the Second Age of Middle-earth, prior to the events of J.R.R. Tolkien’s “The Hobbit” and “The Lord of the Rings.”

    Alicia Rancilio

    NEW VIDEO GAMES TO PLAY

    — Luke Skywalker may get the headlines, but the true MVPs of the Star Wars franchise are rascals like Han Solo and Lando Calrissian. Ubisoft’s Star Wars Outlaws introduces a new scoundrel: Kay Vess, a young thief who’s trying to work her way up the galaxy’s crime syndicates and make the big score. She isn’t a Jedi or a Sith, but she knows how to fire a blaster and fly a spaceship. Outlaws comes from Massive Entertainment, the developers of Tom Clancy’s The Division, and it aims to spread Ubisoft’s brand of open-world adventure across multiple planets. It launches Friday, Aug. 30, on PlayStation 5, Xbox X/S and PC.

    — Many gamers who grew up with the Super Nintendo Entertainment System remember 1993’s Secret of Mana as their introduction to a particular type of high-fantasy role-playing. It’s been 15 years since we’ve gotten a new chapter in the marquee Mana series, but Square Enix is finally delivering Visions of Mana. A youngster named Val is chosen to accompany his friend Hinna on a pilgrimage to the life-sustaining Mana Tree, and they’ll need to use magic and swordplay to fight all the monsters along the way. The lush, anime-style graphics are bound to stir memories in old-school RPG fans, starting Thursday, Aug. 29, on PlayStation 5/4, Xbox X/S and PC.

    Lou Kesten

    [ad_2]

    Source link

  • What to stream this week: Matt Damon on a heist, ‘Dance Moms’ jazz it up and J Balvin parties

    What to stream this week: Matt Damon on a heist, ‘Dance Moms’ jazz it up and J Balvin parties

    [ad_1]

    Netflix’s “The Umbrella Academy” premieres its final season and a Boston heist movie starring Matt Damon and Casey Affleck are some of the new television, films, music and games headed to a device near you.

    Also among the streaming offerings worth your time as selected by The Associated Press’ entertainment journalists: a new “Dance Moms” series, a “Yo Gabba Gabba” reboot for younger audiences and J Balvin promises an album that hits like a house party.

    NEW MOVIES TO STREAM

    — A poorly planned heist goes terribly wrong in “The Instigators” (Friday, Aug. 9, on Apple TV+), a loosely amiable Boston-set caper starring Matt Damon and Casey Affleck. The movie, directed by Doug Liman (“Go,” “The Bourne Identity”), returns Damon and Affleck to familiar hometown terrain. They play a despondent pair who try to steal money from a corrupt mayor (Ron Perlman) but end up on the run, with a therapist (Hong Chau) in tow. In my review, I called it “a rudderless but winningly shaggy action comedy.”

    Jeff Nichols (“Mud,” “Take Shelter,” “Loving”) extends his survey of classically American dramas with “The Bikeriders,” a chronicle of a Chicago motorcycle club in the 1960s. In the film (Friday, Aug. 9, on Peacock), Austin Butler and Tom Hardy star as riders with an antiauthoritarian streak who help found the Vandals, but watch as their club grows beyond their control. In a male-populated film, though, Jodie Comer, as the heavily accented narrator, is closer to the main character. In my review, I called it “a vivid dramatization of the birth of an American subculture.”

    — This month, the Criterion Channel is running two overlapping series: one of movies directed by Paul Thomas Anderson, one of films starring Philip Seymour Hoffman. Hoffman was a mainstay in Anderson’s films from the start (he steals “Hard Eight” with one scene) and a central presence in films like “Magnolia,” “Punch-Drunk Love” and “The Master.” The Hoffman series includes plenty other highlights, too; look especially for the exquisitely tender 2010 drama “Jack Goes Boating.” The Anderson series also includes an exclusive streaming of the director’s radiant 2021 coming-of-age tale “Licorice Pizza,” which poignantly starred Hoffman’s son, Cooper.

    AP Film Writer Jake Coyle

    NEW MUSIC TO STREAM

    Ryuichi Sakamoto’s “Opus” — the posthumous album and documentary of the same name — was captured while the Japanese film composer was dying of cancer. Across 20 songs, Sakamoto performs a collection of his biggest songs on piano, like the memorable themes for Bernardo Bertolucci’s “The Last Emperor” and “The Sheltering Sky.” The album also includes the first ever recorded version of “Tong Poo,” from his early days with techno-pop trio Yellow Magic Orchestra.

    — On Friday, Aug. 9, Colombian reggaetónero J Balvin will release a new full-length project, “Rayo.” Across 15 tracks, he’s promised an album that hits like a house party — just in time for the hottest summer month of the year. “Rayo” is stacked with good time collaborations — reggaetón superstar Fied, regional Mexican musician Carín León, Bad Gyal, Zion, Dei V, Ryan Castro, Blessd and Luar La L among them. The previously released singles, “Gaga” with SAIKO, “Polvo de tu Vida” with Chencho Corleono, and “En Alta” with Quevedo, Omar Courtz and YOVNGCHIMI, embody that spirit. At his party, everyone is invited.

    — Also on Friday, Aug. 9, “Not Not Jazz,” a documentary following the avant-garde, acid jazz-fusion band Medeski, Martin & Wood, becomes available to stream via video on demand. The film follows the improvisational trio as they endeavor to record a new album at the Allaire Studio in Woodstock, New York. It is a peek behind the curtain of their processes, and a celebration of music that is far too often underserved.

    AP Music Writer Maria Sherman

    NEW SHOWS TO STREAM

    — The dramatic world of “Dance Moms” returns with a new coach, dancers and, of course, invested moms. In “Dance Moms: A New Era,” mothers hover as eight girls are trained by instructor Glo Hampton, a.k.a. Miss Glo, to compete nationally. The original “Dance Moms” ran for eight seasons and featured breakout stars Jojo Siwa and Maddie Ziegler. It also introduced the world to coach Abby Lee Miller, who was often criticized for being too harsh on her students. Miller was sentenced to a year in prison in 2017 for bankruptcy fraud. “Dance Moms: A New Era” debuts Wednesday, Aug. 7.

    — Netflix’s “The Umbrella Academy” premieres its final season on Thursday, Aug. 8. The show follows a family of adopted superheroes — who were stripped of their powers in season three — who must work together to stop the apocalypse. Megan Mullally, Nick Offerman and David Cross are new faces in season four alongside regulars that include David Castañeda, Tom Hopper and Elliot Page.

    — The musical cartoon for preschoolers called “Yo Gabba Gabba!” is also getting a reboot called “Yo Gabba GabbaLand!” on Apple TV+. The 10-episode series premieres Friday, Aug. 9. It’s hosted by Kamryn Smith as Kammy Kam and brings back other characters from the original.

    — Michael Imperioli, who played Tony Soprano’s protégé Christopher on “The Sopranos,” can’t shake the mob. He’s the executive producer and narrator of a three-part docuseries on five Italian American families who were selected by Charles “Lucky” Luciano in 1931 to rule the organized crime world. “American Godfathers: The Five Families” debuts Sunday, Aug. 11 on The History Channel. It will also stream on The History Channel app, history.com and major TV video on demand platforms.

    — A four-part docuseries adapts historian Donald Bogle’s 2019 book called “Hollywood Black” for MGM+. Executive produced by Forest Whitaker, the series examines the history of cinema through the Black perspective. Creatives including Ryan Coogler, Ava DuVernay, Issa Rae, LaKeith Stanfield, Gabrielle Union, Lena Waithe are interviewed. “Hollywood Black” premieres Sunday, Aug. 11.

    Alicia Rancilio

    NEW VIDEO GAMES TO PLAY

    — People who love collecting cute monsters and making them fight have long been drawn to Pokémon. This year’s Palworld upped the ante by adding guns to the mix. But what if you just want to cuddle? That’s where 11 Bit Studios’ Creatures of Ava comes in. You’re an explorer on a planet bustling with wildlife — but the creatures are being threatened by an infection called “the withering.” It’s your mission to tame the beasts with your magic flute and help them heal. It’s a cozier take on the old “gotta catch ’em all” formula, and it comes to Xbox X/S and PC on Wednesday.

    Lou Kesten

    [ad_2]

    Source link

  • Kinds of Kindness Is More Than Kind of Fucked Up (In All the Best Possible Ways)

    Kinds of Kindness Is More Than Kind of Fucked Up (In All the Best Possible Ways)

    [ad_1]

    For those who only just got acquainted with Yorgos Lanthimos because of his star turn at the Academy Awards this year for Poor Things, it would come as no surprise that viewers hoping for “more of the same” might be disappointed by his quick follow-up, Kinds of Kindness. While, sure, both movies are in keeping with Lanthimos’ penchant for “quirky” (a reductive term if ever there was one in terms of describing anything that is “weird”—also usually a reductive term) narratives starring Emma Stone, Kinds of Kindness is distinctly begat of the auteur’s mind. This being in contrast to Poor Things, which was an adaptation of someone else’s work—specifically, Alasdair Gray’s 1992 novel of the same name. Presented even more overtly as “a Frankenstein story” in Lanthimos’ hands (though, as some pointed out, it was more like the plot of Frankenhooker, released in 1990), audiences were more easily charmed by this kind of “quirk,” paired with Stone’s rendering of Bella Baxter. Put it this way: Poor Things is the most “Tim Burton” Lanthimos has ever allowed himself to get.

    In truth, Lanthimos’ “return to himself” with Kinds of Kindness seems in part designed to remind people not to get too used to the linear, “easy-to-pinpoint message” of Poor Things. So it is that the film commences with the first story in the “triptych,” where we’re introduced to the unifying thread of each story: R.M.F. (indeed, that was one of the original titles of the movie, apart from the more abstract And). A man who is never given a clear backstory, yet whose shirt and initials will serve as a consistent talisman. In fact, it is R.M.F. (Yorgos Stefanakos) who we first see enter the scene via car while blasting the Eurythmics’ signature 1983 track, “Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)” (a song that will also serve as another consistent thread in each story). So begins “Vignette #1,” if you will, titled “The Death of R.M.F.” When R.M.F. knocks on the door of the lavish house he’s arrived at, Vivian (Margaret Qualley) answers the door in a silk robe that’s cut as short as it can be without her ass showing (and, in truth, if Qualley had an ass, it would definitely peek out of a robe like that). She takes one look at the shirt he’s wearing, with his initials monogrammed on the breast pocket and tells her husband, Raymond (Willem Dafoe), over the phone exactly what R.M.F. is wearing, including the assurance that his shirt doesn’t look wrinkled. Even so, she still sends a picture of the shirt to prove it (an initial glimpse into Raymond’s fastidious nature).

    R.M.F., we’ll soon find, is the man that Raymond’s emotional whipping boy, Robert (Jesse Plemons), has been tasked with crashing his car into. And why? Simply because Raymond wants him to. Indeed, this particular segment comes across as an allegory for the average employer-employee relationship, with the employer demanding to have total and unbridled control over the person they “own.” For the past ten years, Robert has been only too willing to do whatever Raymond has asked of him—from marrying Sarah (Hong Chau), the woman Raymond “picked out” at the Cheval Bar (where they’re regulars) to lacing her coffee with mifepristone because Raymond doesn’t want Robert to have children (that could be very distracting from work, after all). Thus, the toxicity masquerading as “love” (mainly for all the material things that Raymond provides him with in exchange for Robert’s total lack of autonomy) shines through at its most unignorable when Raymond makes this request. The request for Robert to crash into R.M.F. Of course, Robert has no idea who R.M.F. is, he’s merely told that the man is willing to die (if the crash should happen to be too impactful) for this bizarre exercise in fealty.

    One might say that the entire running motif of Kinds of Kindness is, in fact, fealty. And the lengths that people are willing to go in order to prove it to a toxic “alpha” in the situation. This much is also true in the next “vignette,” “R.M.F. Is Flying” (perhaps an allusion to his limbo state after finally being run over multiple times by Robert in response to Raymond cutting him off cold turkey from his “love”). In this setup, Plemons is now Daniel, a police officer reeling over the recent disappearance of his wife, Liz (Stone), who is some kind of marine biologist lost at sea. Her miraculous return with her fellow researcher, Jonathan (Ja’Quan Monroe-Henderson), is met with joy and relief by their friends, Neil (Mamoudou Athie) and Martha (Qualley), and Liz’s father, George (Dafoe). However, it is less comforting to Daniel when he starts to suspect that the woman who has returned is not his wife at all. Mainly because it’s “little details” about her that aren’t tracking with the “original” Liz. For a start, this Liz is perfectly okay to eat chocolate, a sweet she hated before, and, secondly, because her feet are suddenly slightly too big for all her shoes. When Daniel tells his theory to Sharon (Chau), Jonathan’s wife, she can only stare back at him in disbelief.

    Despite no one believing him, Daniel’s conviction that his wife isn’t really his wife only intensifies, causing him to have an “episode” on the job that leads to his suspension from the force. Still convinced that Liz is someone else, he proceeds to test how devoted she is to him, demanding that she cook her own thumb for him to prove her love (side note: he’s been on a hunger strike against anything she makes for him). When she actually does, he not only says her thumb is disgusting and he would never eat it, but he also then ups the ante by requesting that she cook her own liver for him (talk about a Hannibal Lecter-esque sweet fantasy, or “sweet dream,” to be more Eurythmics-centric). At the end of this petite histoire, the real Liz does show up once Fake Liz ends up killing herself with a self-extraction of the liver to prove her love. What’s the additional message here? Perhaps that “real” love isn’t always that selfless. Otherwise it can get pretty tainted pretty fast.

    And, speaking of “tainted,” that’s what the final “vignette,” “R.M.F. Eats A Sandwich,” is all about. Namely with regard to (sex) cult leaders Omi (Dafoe) and Aka (Chau) insisting on their subjects’ “purity” if they are to be accepted into the, er, fold for fucking. Whenever Omi or Aka hears that one of their “subjects” has broken the bonds of “loyalty” to the cult (which is somewhat ironic considering they’re all fucking multiple people…but hey, so long as it’s within the cult, it’s fine), they have their ways of testing for compromised “purity” (a.k.a. STDs).

    Emily (Stone), a recent convert to the “cause,” seems overly eager to prove herself and her, again, fealty, to Omi and Aka by seeking out a healer that can supposedly reanimate the dead. Which is why the story begins with measuring and weighing the latest “potential” healer, Anna (Hunter Schafer), like she’s a piece of meat. Joining Emily in that task is Andrew (Plemons), a fellow cult member that’s been “assigned” to Emily, as it were, by Omi and Aka. When they try to get Anna to deliver on the final (and most important) test—reviving the dead—she fails…much to Emily’s (in particular) dismay.

    After the disappointment, Andrew and Emily get into her vibrant purple Dodge Challenger and continue on their way, talking to Aka over the phone about whether or not they have enough water for the journey. This rather precise question sets up one of the cruxes of the storyline, which is that, in order to be “pure,” the cult members must only drink water that has been “crafted” out of Omi and Aka’s tears. Ergo, they’re given thermoses filled with this “special” kind of water (a kind of kindness, duh) whenever they hit the road on one of their quests to find the healer. Of course, they’re not flying totally blind. There are certain known criteria about the healer they’re looking for: she’s a woman, she’s a twin, she’s a twin whose other twin died and she has a specific age, height and weight.

    As for Emily’s “former” life before becoming a cultist, she was a mother and a wife to Joseph, portrayed by Joe Alwyn, who takes the chance on playing a role where he “has to” rape in a climate that already has him in “villain mode” thanks to his breakup with Taylor Swift (who, yes, will probably uncomfortably watch this movie and scene since Emma Stone is in her “squad,” as is Jack Antonoff’s wife, Margaret Qualley). Occasionally pulled back to that “old life” of hers out of a sense of, let’s say, wifely and maternal duty, Joseph ends up getting her cast out of the cult when he date rapes her, and Omi, Aka and Andrew immediately find out when they catch her coming out of the house the following morning.

    In the wake of her “affront” to their “cause” (like all cult leaders, that cause is ultimately self-aggrandizement), they drag her to their outdoor “steam room.” A “hot box” is more like it—and one that looks like something out of Midsommar. Cranking the heat up as high as possible to “purify” her, when she is taken out of the box and placed on a perch for Aka to lick sweat off her stomach and see if she’s still “contaminated,” the result is not in Emily’s favor. Shunned from the cult, Emily determines to prove her commitment by finding the healer, once and for all. A quest that, predictably, results in catastrophic circumstances.

    As Kind of Kindness concludes with a mid-credits scene where we finally do see R.M.F. eating that sandwich, the viewer is left to reconcile the idea that maybe blind loyalty is more pathetic than it is noble (see: Republicans and Trump). Something that shouldn’t have to be spelled out for people at this juncture, but, sadly, still needs to be. As a matter of fact, many will likely not get that message because Kinds of Kindness doesn’t spell it out enough for the average feeble mind. And, maybe, in his own meta way, Lanthimos is actually testing the loyalty of his “true” devotees with this film.

    [ad_2]

    Genna Rivieccio

    Source link

  • Asteroid City: Wes Anderson’s “Sci-Fi” Movie Is About A Collective and Resigned Sense of Doom More Than It Is 50s Americana

    Asteroid City: Wes Anderson’s “Sci-Fi” Movie Is About A Collective and Resigned Sense of Doom More Than It Is 50s Americana

    [ad_1]

    A palpable shift has occurred in Wes Anderson’s style and tone since the release of 2021’s The French Dispatch. One doesn’t want to use a cliché like “mature” to describe what’s been happening since that perceptible tonal pivot in his filmography, so perhaps the better way to “define” what’s happening to Anderson and his storytelling is that it’s gotten, as Cher Horowitz would note, “Way existential.” Not to say there wasn’t that element to some degree in previous films, but now, it’s amplified—ratcheted up to a maximum that was never there before. Some might proffer it’s because Anderson has transitioned to a new era of his life, therefore possesses a greater concern with mortality; others could posit that our world and society has become so fragile in the years since 2020, that even privileged white men have been rattled by it enough to let it color their work. Whatever the case, the increased focus on mortality and “the meaning of life” in Anderson’s oeuvre is no surprise considering one of his greatest directorial influences is Woody Allen. Yes, he might be cancelled, but that doesn’t change the effect he’s had on Anderson.

    Of course, Anderson has managed to take the puerility of Allen’s lead characters and render them “quirky,” “oddball” and “postmodern” instead. What’s more, Anderson has the “marketing sense” not to make his characters come across as “too Jewy,” lest it “scandalize” the often white bread audiences he tends to attract. Some might argue that Asteroid City is his whitest offering yet—which is really saying something. And yes, like Allen, Anderson has begun to favor the “screenwriting technique” of setting his movies in the past, so as not to have to deal with the “vexing” and “unpleasant” complications of trying to address post-woke culture in his casting and narrative decisions. Defenders of Anderson would bite back by remarking that the director creates alternate worlds in general, and should be left to do his own thing without being subjected to the “moral” and “ethical” issues presented by “modern filmmaking requirements.” For the most part, that’s remained the case, even as occasional hemming-and-hawing about his “movies so white” shtick crops up when he releases a new film. But to those who will follow Anderson anywhere, the trip to Asteroid City does prove to be worth it. If for no other reason than to show us the evolution of an auteur when he’s left alone, permitted to be creative without letting the outside voices and noise fuck with his head.

    In many regards, the “town” (or rather, desert patch with a population of eighty-seven) is a representation of the same bubble Anderson exists in whenever he writes and directs something. To the point of writing, Anderson returns to the meta exploration of what it means to create on the page (as he did for The French Dispatch), anchored by the playwright Conrad Earp (Edward Norton). Although he’s not one of the more heavily featured characters, without him, none of the characters we’re seeing perform a televised production of Asteroid City would exist. If that sounds too meta already, it probably is. With the host (Bryan Cranston) of an anthology TV series serving as our guide, the movie commences in black and white as he stares into the camera and proceeds to do his best impersonation of Rod Serling at the beginning of The Twilight Zone. Indeed, it’s clear Anderson wants to allude to these types of TV anthology series that were so popular in the post-war Golden Age of Television. And even on the radio, as Orson Welles showcased in 1938, with his adaptation of The War of the Worlds. A broadcast that caused many listeners to panic about an alien invasion, unaware that it wasn’t real. In fact, Cranston as the host is sure to forewarn his viewers, “Asteroid City does not exist. It is an imaginary drama created expressly for this broadcast.” That warning comes with good reason, for people in the 50s were easily susceptible to being bamboozled by whatever was presented to them on the then-new medium of TV. Because, “If it’s on TV, it must be true.” And the last thing anyone wanted to believe—then as much as now—is that there could be life on other planets. Sure, it sounds “neato” in theory, but, in reality, Earthlings are major narcissists who want to remain the lone “stars” of the interplanetary show.

    Set in September of 1955, Asteroid City centers its narrative on a Junior Stargazer convention, where five students will be honored for their excellence in astronomy and astronomy-related innovations. Among those five are Woodrow (Jake Ryan), Shelly (Sophia Lillis), Ricky (Ethan Josh Lee), Dinah (Grace Edwards) and Clifford (Aristou Meehan). It’s Woodrow who arrives to town first, courtesy of his war photographer father, Augie Steenbeck (Jason Schwartzman). Although they’ve arrived to their destination, Augie still has to take the broken-down car to the mechanic (Matt Dillon). After much fanfare and tinkering, The Mechanic concludes that the car is kaput. Augie decides to phone his father-in-law, Stanley Zak (Tom Hanks), to come pick up Woodrow and Augie’s three daughters, Andromeda (Ella Faris), Pandora (Gracie Faris) and Cassiopeia (Willan Faris). Stanley doesn’t immediately agree, instead opting to remind Augie that he was never good enough for his daughter (played briefly, in a way, by Margot Robbie) and that he ought to tell his children that their mother died. Three weeks ago, to be exact. But withholding this information is just one of many ways in which Augie parades his emotional stuntedness. Something that ultimately enchants Hollywood actress Midge Campbell (Scarlett Johansson), who also happens to be the mother of another Junior Stargazer, Dinah.

    All the while, the vibrant, almost fake-looking set seems there solely to reiterate that all vibrancy is belied by something darker beneath it. That was never truer than in postwar America. And talking of vibrant cinematography and explosions, if Barbie’s color palette had a baby with Oppenheimer’s explosive content, you’d get Asteroid City (which, again, features Margot “Barbie” Robbie herself). With regard to explosions, it bears noting that the intro to the movie includes a train plugging along, bound for Asteroid City carrying all manner of bounty: avocados, pecans and, oh yes, a ten-megaton nuclear warhead with the disclaimer: “Caution: DO NOT DETONATE without Presidential Approval.” So much about that wide array of “transported goods” speaks to the very dichotomy of American culture. Priding itself on being a land of plenty while also doing everything in its power to self-destruct all that natural wealth. What’s more, the presence of hazardous material on trains is only too relevant considering the recent tragedy that befell East Palestine, Ohio. And yet, these are the sorts of environmentally-damaging behaviors that were set in motion in the postwar economic boom of America. Complete with the “miracle” of Teflon.

    Accordingly, it’s no coincidence that as the “progress” associated with modern life accelerated at a rate not seen since the first Industrial Revolution, some were concerned about the potential fallout of such “development.” After all, with technological advancement could arise as many inconveniences as conveniences (see also: AI). For those who came of age after the so-called war to end all wars, a natural skepticism vis-à-vis “advancement” was also to be expected. Perhaps the fear of modern existence, with all the implications of war and invasion being “leveled up” due to “better” technology (i.e., the atomic bomb), planted the seed of suddenly seeing flying saucers all the time starting in the 40s and 50s. A phenomenon that many government officials were keen to write off as being somehow related to atomic testing (this being why the Atomic Age is so wrapped up in the alien sightings craze of the 50s). The sudden collective sightings might also have been a manifestation of the inherent fear of what all this “progress” could do. Especially when it came to increasing the potential for interplanetary contact. For it was also in the 50s that the great “space race” began—spurred by nothing more than the competitive, dick-swinging nature of the Cold War between the U.S. and USSR. That was all it took to propel a “they’re among us” and “hiding in plain sight” mentality, one that was frequently preyed upon by the U.S. government via the Red Scare. Such intense fear- and paranoia-mongering does fuck with the mind, you know. Enough to make it see things that may or may not really be there (literally and figuratively). The term “alien,” therefore, meaning “foreigner” or “other” as much as extraterrestrial as the 50s wore on.

    So it was that Americans did what they always do best with fear: monetize it! To be sure, Asteroid City itself only exists to commodify the terror of an asteroid hitting Earth and leaving such a great impact thousands of years ago. Then, when news of an alien infiltrating the Junior Stargazer convention leaks, a fun fair materializes to sell merch (“Alien Gifts Sold Here”) related to commemorating the “event.” As such, the train that goes to Asteroid City suddenly becomes the “Alien Special” and there’s now “Alien Parking,” as well as signs declaring, “Asteroid City U.F.O.” and “Spacecraft Sighting.” With this American zeal for exploitation in mind, plus the alien element, there’s even a certain Nope vibe at play throughout Asteroid City as well. And a dash of Don’t Worry Darling, to boot. Mainly because of the unexplained sonic booms that go on in the background while the housewives are trying to kiki.

    Anderson extracts the paranoia element that might have been present in films of the day (like Flying Saucers Attack!) and instead relates the discovery of an alien life form to the added feeling of being insignificant as a human in this universe. To highlight that point, J.J. Kellogg (Liev Schreiber), father to Junior Stargazer Clifford, demands of his son’s escalating antics related to performing unasked dares, “Why do you always have to dare something?” He replies meekly, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I’m afraid otherwise nobody’ll notice my existence in the universe.” To be sure, the reason most people behave obnoxiously is to get the kind of attention that will convince themselves they matter. They mean something in this grand abyss.

    Even Midge, a movie star, feels mostly unseen. So when Augie takes her picture in such an intimate way, she can’t help but feel allured by him. Seen by him. That, in the end, is what everyone wants. In the spirit of alluding to 50s Americana, Midge herself seems to be a loose representation of Marilyn Monroe, also prone to pills and alcohol, and constantly referred to as a brilliant comedienne despite flying under the radar as such. Then there’s another six degrees of Marilyn separation when Willem Dafoe appears as Saltzburg Keitel, an overt homage to Elia Kazan and his Actors Studio—a version of which we see when Earp shows up to a class to try to get insight on how to convey a certain scene. And yes, the concern with whether or not the acting in the play is being done “right” keeps coming up, reaching a crest as a metaphor for what Asteroid City is all about: what is anyone’s place in the universe? Does any of it mean anything? So yeah, again with the Woody Allen influence.

    Toward the end of the play/movie, Jones Hall, the actor playing Augie, asks Schubert Green (Adrien Brody), the director, “Do I just keep doing it?” He could be asking about his performance as much as his very existence itself. Schubert assures, “Yes.” Jones continues, “Without knowing anything? Isn’t there supposed to be some kind of answer out there in the cosmic wilderness?” When Jones then admits, “I still don’t understand the play,” that phrase “the play” doubles just as easily for “life.” Schubert insists, “Doesn’t matter. Just keep telling the story.” In other words, just keep rolling the dice and living as though any of it means anything at all.

    And maybe nihilism, for some people, is part of compartmentalizing that meaninglessness. This much appears to be the case for Midge, who tells Augie stoically, “I think I know now what I realize we are… Two catastrophically wounded people who don’t express the depths of their pain because…we don’t want to. That’s our connection.” But a connection is a connection—and that’s all anyone on Earth is really looking—starving—for…no matter how many decades fly by and how many according “advancements” are made. It’s likely the convention-interrupting alien could sense and see that desperation among the humans during his brief landing.

    So it is that Augie tells Midge afterward, “I don’t like the way that guy looked at us, the alien.” Midge inquires, “How did he look?”  “Like we’re doomed.” Midge shrugs, “Maybe we are.” “Maybe” being a polite euphemism for “definitely.” But even though we are, maybe the art will make sense of it all in the end. Even if only to “just keep telling the story.” For posterity. For whoever—or whatever—might come across the ruins and relics in the future. Hopefully, they’ll learn from the mistakes that we ourselves didn’t.

    [ad_2]

    Genna Rivieccio

    Source link

  • A Uniquely American (The) “Whale” of a Tale

    A Uniquely American (The) “Whale” of a Tale

    [ad_1]

    The Whale wastes no time in cutting to the quick of human desperation and sadness. As most stage plays tend to do. And yes, the film is based on Samuel D. Hunter’s 2012 play of the same name. Hunter, who adapted the script for Darren Aronofsky’s directing pleasure, accordingly leaves the one-location setting intact. A static milieu that is rendered totally believable by Charlie’s (Brendan Fraser) reclusive nature. Not necessarily because it’s a “conscious choice,” so much as a practical one. After all, he’s too morbidly obese to get very far without extreme difficulty and over-exertion. So it is that, with the help of his best friend/enabler, Liz (Hong Chau), Charlie manages to work and live with relative “ease,” at least considering his situation. One that finds him in the John Popper-from-Blues Traveler position of being too obese to masturbate without the risk of a heart attack. Which is where we find him within the first few seconds of the movie, and how the appearance of a missionary named Thomas (Ty Simpkins) at his doorstep is actually welcomed as Charlie tussles with the throes of death.

    To calm and recenter him, Charlie insists that Thomas read from an essay he hands to him about Moby-Dick, one that we later find out was written by his estranged daughter, Ellie (Sadie Sink), and that he has become rather obsessed with for its “honesty.” Having written it in eighth grade (the audience is expected to suspend disbelief on such a book being assigned at that age), the sentence structure is simple and written in the first person, with Charlie most focused on the lines, “…and I felt saddest of all when I read the boring chapters that were only descriptions of whales, because I knew that the author was just trying to save us from his own sad story, just for a little while.” That author being Ishmael who “shar[es] a bed with a man named Queequeg,” as Ellie homoerotically phrases it. Indeed, there are a number of scholars who interpret the relationship between Ishmael and Queequeg as homoerotic, with one critic, Caleb Crain, noting that the cannibalism portrayed by Herman Melville is meant to be a metaphor for homosexuality. Charlie’s guilt-racked gay relationship and subsequent practice of “eating himself to death” fits in quite nicely with that analysis of Melville’s opus—the subject of which also ties in to the film not just title-wise, but “pursuit”-wise as well. With Captain Ahab easily representing the religious zealots embodied by Thomas and the “New Life Church” he works for seeing “The Whale” as pure evil (in this case, Charlie—because of his homosexuality). Just for existing, for being itself. As Charlie is, obese or not.

    “Working around” the physical limitations of his body, Charlie’s job as an English Composition professor teaching courses for an online university also allows him to conceal the monstrosity he has become. To address the word “monstrosity,” the backlash against The Whale for its portrayal of corpulent people was rebuffed by Aronofsky, who worked with the Obesity Action Coalition not just to help Fraser with the physicality of the role, but to better get into the headspace of the self-destruction and addiction behind overeating. Per Aronofsky, the Coalition “really [feels] this is going to open up people’s eyes. You gotta remember, people in this community, they get judged by doctors when they go to get medical help. They get judged everywhere they go on the planet, by most people. This film shows that, like everyone, we are all human and that we are all good and bad and flawed and hopeful and joyful and sorrowful, and there’s all different colors inside of us.”

    Aronofsky also added of the decision to cast a “thin person in a fat suit” (see also: Weird Al’s “Fat” video), “…actors have been using makeup since the beginning of acting—that’s one of their tools. And the lengths we went to portray the realism of the makeup has never been done before.” Those lengths furnished by makeup artist Adrien Morot, who was rightly nominated for an Oscar for her part in bringing the character of Charlie to (large) life. His “girth,” of course, serves as the pronounced metaphor regarding how self-flagellation comes in all forms—“shapes and sizes,” if one prefers a more overt pun. And Charlie’s has been to eat himself into oblivion as punishment. Not just because he feels partly responsible for the suicide of his long-time partner, Alan, but because he left his wife, Mary (Samantha Morton), and then eight-year-old daughter to be with him. At the time of their meeting—when Alan was a student of his at night school—Charlie was still “robust” in build, but obviously not morbidly obese. And whatever Alan saw in Charlie was less about looks and more about his personality. His essential “goodness.” For it’s true what they say about the person who loves you being able to see past certain physical “flaws” that others might deem “grotesque.” But Charlie is bound to live forever with the guilt of abandoning his daughter. Something he’s determined to make right as best as he can.

    This is spurred by the imminence of his demise, as the film commences on Monday to show us the short lifespan of a week Charlie has left after being told by Liz (who is, conveniently, also a nurse) that he has congestive heart failure. Rather than seeking medical treatment—which plays into not only a lack of health insurance, but the aforementioned fear of judgment by a medical professional—he decides to “get his ducks in a row,” as it were. And at the top of that list is getting to know Ellie and trying to help her. When she refuses to stay after being summoned over, he offers to pay her all the money he has—roughly $120,000 in his bank account (all of which he has saved up specifically to give to her). By this point, the “uniquely American” nature of the tale has been accented not only by the out-of-control overweightness that a person can allow to flourish in their dissatisfaction paired with endless access to processed foods, but by the fact that only in America would someone rather die than go to a hospital and incur the inevitable hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of debt as a consequence. This always occurring when one doesn’t pay the monthly baseline cost of health insurance (itself an extreme expense for those who can’t get it at least partially covered by their workplace). What’s more, only in America would someone be so concerned with expressing their love through money. And know full well that love can be “bought.” Or at least the feigning of love. Which Ellie does little to convey through her surly, enraged aura.

    An anger that has led her to alienate others from being her friend at school, as well as any teachers who might want to keep her from failing out of it. To that end, part of the deal to get Ellie to keep coming around while he still has time is that he’ll rewrite some of her essays for her. In exchange (as he’s convinced of her brilliance), Charlie asks Ellie to write whatever she wants in the notebook he provides for her while she comes over to his apartment. After the first “session,” he finds that all she has written is: “His apartment stinks/This notebook is retarded/I hate everyone.” But yes, it’s a haiku. So she isn’t the incompetent git that her teachers say she is.

    Taking into account the religious and faith-based overtones of the movie, the biblical narrative of Jonah and The Whale provides an additional symbolic context. For Jonah was saved from drowning by a “whale” (or big fish), which one can argue Charlie has done for Ellie by reminding her of her greatness. That she’s “perfect”—just as she is, as Mark Darcy would say. And as it’s the last meaningful thing he can do as a human being on this Earth, he’s made it his mission to not be foiled by her armor. Her dogged determination to be as mean and vicious as possible. For he knows, in the end, that people are “incapable of not caring” (save for, you know, people like Putin). That belief certainly holds true for Ellie.

    As for Liz, who learned long ago by trying to “save” her brother, Alan (hence her deep connection with Charlie), she does not believe a person can ultimately be “saved” by anyone but themselves (going inherently against everything Christians stand for). This being what keeps her from intervening in what Charlie truly wants: the long punishment on his body he’s given himself, followed by death. What Thomas believes Alan was striving for in order to make himself “clean” again for God, citing a scripture Alan had highlighted in his own bible about separating the spirit from the flesh—flesh, in all its meanings, being at the very center of The Whale. But so is strength. The ability for the mind to overpower the body in ways both harmful and beneficial. This being why it was so appropriate for Fraser to note of the part, “I learned quickly that it takes an incredibly strong person inside that body to be that person. That seemed fitting and poetic and practical to me, all at once.”

    A whale isn’t the only symbolic creature in the movie though. There’s also the unacknowledged bird that Charlie keeps luring back to his window by setting food out for it on a plate. By the third act, that plate is broken into shards and the bird seems nowhere to be found. Charlie’s own proverbial plate has been broken now, too, as there’s nothing left to figuratively eat. He’s swallowed life whole and it has spat him back into the abyss. In other words, this bird has flown.

    [ad_2]

    Genna Rivieccio

    Source link

  • The Rich Eat: The Menu

    The Rich Eat: The Menu

    [ad_1]

    At the crux of every basic class divide is food. It is the most essential unit of life, and yet, it took little time at all after the world became “civilized” for it to become the first source of division between the haves and the have-nots. Over the centuries, especially in America, it created the ironic phenomenon of poor people being, frankly, fat (“unhealthy,” if you prefer) and rich people being thin beacons of wellness. Because rich people can afford to sidestep the overprocessed foods that the broke can actually afford. Shoveling their faces with it every day to sustain themselves. What’s more, they would never dream of paying/wasting top dollar for minuscule portions at a fine dining restaurant, the cost of which is more than they make in a month.

    With this sense of a historically-rooted class war in food, former The Onion writers-turned-screenwriters Will Tracy and Seth Reiss bring us The Menu. And no, it’s not entirely “coincidental” that the fine dining restaurant they use, called Hawthorn, as their backdrop for brutal “satire” (read: unbridled honesty) is located on a remote island. For the idea that planted the seed of the screenplay arrived when Tracy himself took a boat to a restaurant on an island off Norway (it could have been many establishments, but Cornelius comes to mind, though that’s probably too “gauche”). With that herculean effort (by restaurant-going standards), Tracy started to have some paranoid feelings about being on an island with only a handful of other diners, prompting him to wonder if this was the kind of extreme emotion worth writing about with his go-to partner, Reiss. Indeed, it was. Not to mention perfectly-timed for a market that has eating the rich on its mind. But if one was hoping for another cannibal movie (on the heels of Bones and All), don’t get your hopes up. This is not a literal “eat the rich” film, so much as a mock-their-absurd-self-importance-which-extends-into-food film. Timely, to be sure, for if it has been the year of anything in cinema, it has been the year of eating.

    Whether that meant “keeping it down” or not. For there was the now-legendary vomiting scene after the passengers consume improperly-refrigerated shellfish in Triangle of Sadness (The Menu’s less-than-“distant” filmic cousin, complete with a captain that reminds one of our chef in The Menu). Then there was the cannibalistic notion of an “eater” in the aforementioned Bones and All. And, released the same day in U.S. theaters, The Menu. Maybe it’s because, somewhere in the subconscious of the average person, an awareness is dawning about food scarcity. Another food irony (in addition to the poor and destitute often being overweight) is that if this is the year of eating in cinema, it’s also “the year of unprecedented famine,” per the World Food Programme. An organization that also noted of alarming 2022 famine statistics, “The number of those facing acute food insecurity has soared—from 135 million to 345 million—since 2019.” At such a ballooning rate (thanks to climate change, war and a pandemic), the implications of what that could do to further cement class warfare imbue one with Children of Men-esque visions for the future. Visions that no doubt present a certain moral quandary to any chef that caters to an affluent clientele. Just as “celebrity chef” Julian Slowik (Ralph Fiennes, looking his most Liam Neeson-y yet) does.

    Part of that celebrity comes from the fact that he charges thousands of dollars for the “experience” of taking a boat to the island where his restaurant is perched (Norway-style, so to speak). And blowhards like Tyler Ledford (Nicholas Hoult) are only too happy to pay the price. Unfortunately for this “foodie fanboy,” Slowik discriminates against single diners—meaning you can’t just sit at a table alone. So it is that he brings along a replacement “date” named Margot Mills (Anya Taylor-Joy) when Tyler’s original plus-one backs out. This resulting in a flinching reaction from the restaurant’s stoic maître d’, Elsa (Hong Chau), and even more of a grimace from Julian himself.

    Margot’s presence has tampered with his last menu masterpiece. The one he wants to call “egoless” for the first time since he started his career (which commenced with slinging burgers for the plebes, a detail that Margot will use to her advantage by the end). But to do so would be another form of self-delusion, almost on par with the rich telling themselves they worked hard for the money (try claiming that to the actual working class performing their day-to-day job requirement horrors). Which is why Reiss commented that such a statement was about Julian “wanting to say to himself that tonight is completely egoless, but if we take a step back, how could this monumental night that you want to be your masterpiece, how could it not be ego-filled?”

    The only egos that must ultimately be put aside by the end of the night are that of the patrons, including, in addition to Tyler and Margot, food critic Lillian Bloom (Janet McTeer), her sycophantic editor, Ted (Paul Adelstein), Hawthorn regulars Richard and Anne Liebbrandt (Reed Birney and Judith Light), George Díaz (John Leguizamo), a washed-up Hollywood star, his assistant/girlfriend, Felicity (Aimee Carrero), and tech business trio Soren (Arturo Castro), Bryce (Rob Yang) and Dave (Mark St. Cyr). With each part of the movie divided into courses, the food that gets served (or doesn’t… namely, bread—because rich people don’t deserve to enjoy what the poor have no choice but to live on daily) becomes increasingly part of something like performance art. Complete with Julian’s sous-chef, Jeremy Louden (Adam Aalderks), killing himself in front of the patrons to bring them a dish called “The Mess.” What Julian deems, more specifically, as being emblematic of the mess we all make of our lives as we try so hard and so stupidly to please people we’ll never even know (that goes for plebes in addition to famous people) and who will never actually care about all the work we put in to please.

    By this moment in the film, it’s clear Fiennes is having the time of his life in the role, and it’s difficult to imagine anyone else playing it. Unlike Taylor-Joy, whose character was originally meant to be portrayed by the aesthetically and vocally similar Emma Stone. Talking of similarities, The Menu’s kinship with Triangle of Sadness is notable throughout (complete with the idea of filming the bulk in one location; in the latter’s case, that’s on a yacht). Both are an unshrinking attack on the rich, each premise toying with what can happen when that class’ money no longer has clout. In both cases, that transpires within the context of an island, where all “real-world” power can be stripped away. And oh, how Julian is happy to strip it. After all, chefs are the biggest power-hungry control freaks of anyone.

    As for the original director attached to the film, Alexander Payne, Mark Mylod might have been destined to do it instead by sheer virtue of having previously worked with Tracy on an episode of Succession (one that fittingly centered on a dinner party) called “Tern Haven.” Tracy confirmed that reteaming with Mylod assured further seamlessness on set, noting, “…it’s just great to have someone whose tastes I trust and [whose] working process [I knew].” That sense of trust between writer and director is undeniably part of what makes The Menu come across as such a confident serve.

    And what Julian aims to serve up by the end of the night (apart from tortillas etched with some highly specific and incriminating memories of each patron) is a clean, simple dose of karmic balance. With the rich even getting off more than just a little on being abused by the climax. For it’s almost as though they’ve been surrounded by obsequious “yes” people their entire lives and they just want to experience Truth for once.

    To this end, Margot herself is the antithesis of a sycophant for Julian, undermining him at every turn with her “that don’t impress me much” expressions and commentary about the meal. It is through this “tell” that Julian can surmise she is not “one of them.” She bears the mark of someone who serves, not someone who is served; therefore, she is but a spy among the rich’s kind as opposed to being of their kind. And so, by the end of the night, per Julian’s insistence, she must take her rightful place on the side of the “givers,” not the “takers.” Or the cooks and the eaters, as it were.

    [ad_2]

    Genna Rivieccio

    Source link

  • Brendan Fraser is back. But to him, ‘I was never far away’

    Brendan Fraser is back. But to him, ‘I was never far away’

    [ad_1]

    NEW YORK — In a darkened hotel room in New York’s Soho neighborhood, Brendan Fraser kindly greets a reporter with an open plastic bag in his hand. “Would you like a gummy bear?”

    Fraser, the 54-year-old actor, is in many ways an extremely familiar face to encounter. Here is the once ubiquitous ’90s presence and action star of “The Mummy” and “George of the Jungle,” whose warm, earnest disposition has made him beloved, still, many years later.

    But Fraser, little seen on the big screen for much of the last decade, is also not quite as you might remember him. His voice is softer. He’s more sensitive, almost intensely so. He seems to bear some bruises from an up-and-down life. If Fraser seems both as he was once was but also someone markedly different, that’s appropriate. In Darren Aronofsky’s “The Whale,” he gives a performance unlike any he’s given before. And it may well win him an Academy Award.

    Fraser’s performance been hailed as his comeback — a word, he says, that “doesn’t hurt my feelings.” But it’s not the one he’d choose.

    “If anything, this is a reintroduction more than a comeback,” Fraser says. “It’s an opportunity to reintroduce myself to an industry, who I do not believe forgot me as is being perpetrated. I’ve just never been that far away.”

    Fraser is very close at hand, indeed, in “The Whale.” In the adaptation of Samuel D. Hunter’s play, which A24 releases in theaters Friday, Fraser is in virtually every scene. He plays a reclusive, obese English teacher named Charlie whose overeating stems from past trauma. As health woes shrink the time he has left, the 600-pound Charlie struggles to reacquaint himself to his estranged daughter (Sadie Sink).

    Fraser’s performance, widely celebrated since the film’s Venice Film Festival premiere, has two Oscar-friendly traits going it for: A comeback narrative and a physical metamorphosis. For the role, Fraser wore a massive body suit and prosthetics crafted by makeup artist Adrian Morot that required hours in makeup each morning.

    But regardless of all the role’s transformation trappings, Fraser’s performance resides in his sad, soulful eyes and compassionate interactions with the characters that come in and out of his home. (Hong Chau plays a friend and nurse.) It adds up to Fraser’s most empathetic performance, one that has returned him to the spotlight after years making quickly forgotten films like “Hair Brained” (2013) and the straight-to-DVD “Breakout” (2013). On stages now from London to Toronto, standing ovations have trailed Fraser — a leading man reborn — wherever he goes.

    For Fraser, who spent much of his previous heyday in Hollywood swinging on vines and racing through pyramids, playing Charlie in “The Whale” has a cosmic symmetry. He could identify with him, Fraser says, “in ways that might surprise you.” When he was in his late 20s trying to be as fit as he could be for “George of the Jungle,” Fraser encountered his own body-image issues.

    “All I knew is that I never felt like it was enough. I questioned myself. I felt scrutinized, judged, objectified, often humiliated,” Fraser says. “It did play with my head. It did play with my confidence.”

    Some have questioned whether Fraser’s role in “The Whale” ought to have gone to someone who was authentically heavy. But Fraser, who collaborated with the Obesity Action Coalition in building the performance, says he intimately understands a different kind of appearance-based judgment.

    “The term was ‘himbo,’” he says. “I wasn’t sure if I appreciated it or not. I know that’s bimbo, which is a derogatory term, except it’s a dude. It just left me with a feeling of profound insecurity. What do I have to do to please you?”

    “It didn’t matter, really, because life took over. I did other things. I now arrive at a place where I see the flip side of the coin.”

    After seeing the play 10 years ago at Playwrights Horizon, Aronofsky, the director of “Pi,” “Requiem for a Dream” and “Black Swan,” spent years contemplating different actors who could play the protagonist of “The Whale” without any success. Then he had Fraser come in and read for the part.

    “It wasn’t like I went into this with a calculation: Oh, a forgotten American-Canadian treasure,” says Aronofsky. “He was the right guy for the right role at the right time. If anything, I was wondering would people think it was a silly choice or something. There wasn’t any cool factor that I could see.”

    Aronofsky instead depended on his gut and an old axiom: “Once a movie star, always a movie star.” Plus, Fraser was hungry. He wanted the part desperately and was ready to put in all the work, all the time in the make-up chair. Still, Aronofsky would later marvel, watching a clip reel of Fraser at an awards ceremony, at the juxtaposition of “The Whale” with movies like “Encino Man,” “Bedazzled” and “Airheads.”

    “He plays this kind of very present, truthful, innocent goofus kind of guy,” says Aronofsky. “Then you intercut it with ‘The Whale.’ It was kind of jaw-dropping to me that this was one human being. There’s a gap in between of a lot of years.”

    Fraser never stopped working, but his movie star days mostly dried up in the years after his 2008 films “The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor” and the 3D “Journey to the Center of the Earth.” Around that time, he and his wife, Afton Smith, with whom he has three sons, divorced.

    “I took some personal time. It was important,” says Fraser. “Mostly connecting with my life as a father. It gave me an appreciation for my capacity to love. What I learned informs the latter half of my professional life now.”

    “Now I know my purpose. Take everything I’ve learned. Own it. And, if possible, let if fuel the work that comes before me,” adds Fraser. “It’s a nice idea, but what work will come before me?”

    At a Beverly Hills, California, luncheon in 2003, Fraser was groped by Hollywood Foreign Press Association member Philip Berk, Fraser said in 2018. (Berk disputed Fraser’s account.) The experience, Fraser told GQ, made him feel like “something had been taken away from me” and “made me retreat.”

    Last month, Fraser announced he won’t attend the Golden Globes in January, whether he’s nominated or not. “My mother didn’t raise a hypocrite,” Fraser said. Still, the nature of awards campaigns will likely keep Fraser in the public eye through the Oscars in March. Is he at all trepidatious about being back in the spotlight?

    “I think it’s going to be for the rest of my career,” Fraser replies. “No. I have an obligation to do this. I feel duty bound to, as politely as a I can, to use that casual prejudice to describe this character, to remind them that there’s a better way of doing that. Obesity is the last domain of accepted, casual bigotry that we still abide.”

    During shooting on a sound stage in Newburgh, New York, Chau was often impressed by how Fraser worked steadily with a hundred pounds of cumbersome prosthetics on him and crew members buzzing around him before every take.

    “I just thought Brendan was such an angel and so gracious in the way he managed that and compartmentalized all that was going on around him,” says Chau. “I naturally felt like taking care of him on set. Making sure his water bottle was someplace close by. Holding his hand and making sure he got up off the couch OK.”

    Little about the film, or Fraser’s journey with it, was inevitable. His first meeting with Aronofsky was in February 2020. The pandemic nearly led to the production’s cancellation.

    “I gave it everything I had every day,” he says. “We lived under existential threat of COVID. An actor’s job is to approach everything like it’s the first time. I did but also as if it might be the last time.”

    Instead, Fraser’s performance opened an entire new chapter for him as an actor. He recently shot a supporting role in Martin Scorsese’s upcoming “Killers of the Flower Moon.” Pondering what comes next, though, will have to wait until another day. When the time for the interview is through, Fraser stands up and graciously pulls a bag out of his pocket.

    “Gummy bear for the road?” Fraser asks. “I recommend pineapple.”

    ———

    Follow AP Film Writer Jake Coyle on Twitter at: http://twitter.com/jakecoyleAP

    [ad_2]

    Source link