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Tag: Sofia Boutella

  • Argylle, Matthew Vaughn’s “Layer Cake” of a Movie Still Not Ultimately as Layered as The Lost City

    Argylle, Matthew Vaughn’s “Layer Cake” of a Movie Still Not Ultimately as Layered as The Lost City


    Upon watching the first thirty-five seconds of the trailer for Argylle, it doesn’t take fans of 2022’s The Lost City very long to immediately spot a certain glaring correlation between the latter and the former. Right down to Argylle’s, spy novel author, Elly Conway (Bryce Dallas Howard, not to be confused with Jessica Chastain, who once starred in a Matthew Vaughn-written movie called The Debt), being extremely introverted and “married to her work.” While The Lost City’s Loretta Sage (Sandra Bullock) might not have a cat she’s devoted to the way Elly is (another extremely gimmicky element of the movie), she embodies, for all intents and purposes, the same “lonely cat lady” trope. Where Loretta has a pushy manager, Beth Hatten (Da’Vine Joy Randolph), hounding her to finish the book so she can start her tour of it, Elly has her pushy mother, Ruth Conway (Catherine O’Hara), to make her write a different ending to the final installment in the Argylle series. 

    After reading the finale to the book, Ruth insists that Elly owes her readers more than that. Just like Dash McMahon a.k.a. Alan (Channing Tatum), the cover model for Loretta’s books, insists that she owes it to her readers to keep the Lovemore series—steeped in the erotic romance-adventure genre—going, even though she announces her plans to end it. Like Elly, she’s run out of things to say…and she also just thinks the books are generally schlocky, and not representative in the least of her true intelligence. The same ultimately goes for Elly, after Argylle’s screenwriter, Jason Fuchs, throws in an amnesia plotline that will eventually reveal Elly is an untapped reserve of far more intelligence than she lets on. An “alter ego” that will inevitably lead to her wearing an atrocious sequined gold dress that she doesn’t quite rock with the same panache as Loretta with her fuchsia sequined jumpsuit (on loan, of course). 

    Loretta’s own intelligence, too, has been suppressed in favor of using her archaeology degree to make the main character in her series seem more “believable.” Even though there is nothing believable about an archaeologist named Dr. Lovemore. An archaeologist named Dr. Sage, on the other hand, slightly more so. Alas, Loretta no longer pursues her archaeological ambitions “legitimately.” And that’s been making her feel like enough of a sham lately to call it quits on the erotic novel front. Stuck on the last chapter, just as Elly is with her own final installment in the Argylle series, Loretta decides to slap together an ending, much to Alan’s dismay. Not just because it puts him out of a job, but because he has a long-time crush on Loretta and losing proximity/access to her, however rare, is a bitter pill to swallow. Loretta, of course, couldn’t be more oblivious to his affections…in the same mousy, bookish manner that Elly is oblivious to the fondness Aidan Wilde (Sam Rockwell) has for her when he initially approaches her on a train under the guise of being a “regular Joe.” 

    Turns out, he’s there to save her from the bevy of fellow spies on the train (a concept that itself reeks of the banal Brad Pitt movie, Bullet Train) out to kidnap her for, what else, her savvy spy mind. As displayed with unexpected perspicacity and foresight in the books she’s written. Foresight that is so accurate, as a matter of fact, that the top/most dangerous spy organization in the world, the Division, truly believes she’s the only one who can find what (or rather, who) they’re looking for. In the same fashion, Abigail Fairfax (Daniel Radcliffe), the man who kidnaps Loretta in The Lost City, does so because, as he reminds her, “Your fictional archaeologist was making real translations of a dead language. Something no one else has been able to do.” He then reminds her that she was once a young college student doing her dissertation on the lost language that will lead Abigail to the Crown of Fire, a valuable yet priceless treasure that has thus far only been the stuff of lore. Until Loretta gave Abigail hope that she could crack the code to finding it. 

    Aidan, too, hopes that Elly can use her unique writer’s brain to tap into some arcane spy knowledge that will lead them to the British hacker who holds the Masterkey (better known as a USB drive) with all the damning evidence against the Division and its corrupt members. And, naturally, because Vaughn expects us to believe that Elly is just that shrewd (along with a lot of other things we’re supposed to “just believe”), she effortlessly figures out how to find him as she and Aidan embark on an increasingly dangerous, unexpected and all-over-the-map (literally and figuratively) journey. Which, yes, is precisely what happens in The Lost City. Except the hijinks that ensue once Loretta is kidnapped (also forced to take a plane she doesn’t want to get on, as is the case with Elly) are at least far more humorous and endearing to watch unfold (not to mention much less filled with so much expository dialogue).

    Maybe this is because one knows that The Lost City isn’t trying to be everything to everyone. Doesn’t seek to extend beyond the confines of its rom-com adventure genre. One that mimics the spirit of 80s classics like Romancing the Stone and the various Indiana Jones movies of that decade. This being what The Lost City does as well, and yet with just a dash more credibility and a tone that is far less “look how clever we, the writer and director, are.” Goddamn, they’re acting like they’re capable of the kind of artful meta plotline that was present in Scream. Unfortunately, that’s not the scenario.

    In any event, even The Lost City couldn’t fully melt the hearts of critics like Manohla Dargis, who wrote at the time of the film’s release: “The Lost City remains a copy of a copy.” One supposes that makes Argylle a copy of a copy of a copy. And not a very well-executed one at that. Not half as well-made as The Lost City anyway, a film that has apparently stoked a rash of imitators in the genre, including the J. Lo atrocity that was Shotgun Wedding. 

    Perhaps the sudden increased interest in spy and/or action-adventure rom-coms is a sign of the times, what with a reboot of Mr. and Mrs. Smith in TV series format also occurring this year. Whatever that sign is, it doesn’t exactly bode well for the “new Cold War”…or the hooey content of movies like Argylle.



    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Rebel Moon — Part One Is A Soulless Regurgitation Of Better Movies

    Rebel Moon — Part One Is A Soulless Regurgitation Of Better Movies

    From his critically maligned but fan-favorite Sucker Punch to his infamous internet darling “Snyder Cut” of 2017’s Justice League, Zack Snyder is no stranger to drumming up discourse whenever one of his films nears release. His latest effort for Netflix, Rebel Moon — Part One: A Child of Fire, has already sparked discussions of an R-rated, three-hour director’s cut to give his fans an alternate taste before Rebel Moon — Part Two hits the streaming platform early next year. But while Snyder may do his best to invent a dark, gripping universe to engross viewers, Rebel Moon is a limp, soulless regurgitation of tropes stolen from much more formidable films.

    The Week In Games: High On Witchcraft

    Written, directed, produced, and shot by Snyder, Rebel Moon follows Kora (Sofia Boutella), a battle-hardened soldier with a tragic past. Though she’s attempting to live a low-profile life on a peaceful farming colony, Kora is forced to once again take up the mantle of warrior when the Motherworld sends a military contingent led by the brutal Admiral Noble (Ed Skrein) to occupy her new home. With the help of a humble farmer (Michiel Huisman) Kora sets off on a galaxy-spanning adventure to recruit a ragtag group of fighters to defend her homeland.

    Attempting to establish an original, engrossing science-fiction world is no small task, even for the most adept of writers, and it’s painfully clear that Snyder took heavy aesthetic and stylistic notes from genre classics like Star Wars and Dune, without understanding the story and emotional beats that made those aforementioned franchises so beloved. Certainly, there’s all manner of science-fiction spectacle in Rebel Moon to gawk at: the characters are all dressed in tattered greyscale robes, wielding retrofuturist weapons and talking about the “Motherworld” and the “Imperium.”

    But while every element of production design, costuming, and worldbuilding is certainly specific, none of them are inspired or purposeful. Instead, Rebel Moon’s stylistic sensibilities feel like Snyder simply tossed all the sci-fi greats into a blender and called it a day. Extensive attention is paid to plotting out lore and history, but Snyder forgets to flesh out the characters that populate his meticulously detailed universe.

    Aside from Kora, whose tragic backstory and brutal upbringing are delivered entirely through clunky monologues of exposition that bleed into extensive flashback sequences, the rest of Rebel Moon’s sizable ensemble cast are eacg allotted five minutes of dialogue, if that. Kora and her crew flit to a new planet, are treated to a dazzling display of their new ally’s combat prowess, given the CliffsNotes version of their tragic backstory (is there any other kind?), and then that character simply falls in among the ranks, never to be examined or explored with any real intentionality again.

    As for Kora herself, Boutella brings the customary strength and stoicism expected of a YA dystopian protagonist with none of the heart or passion. Constantly glowering out from underneath her dark crop of hair, Kora is a painfully uninteresting hero whose stoicism is certainly understandable given her history, but whose personality could not make for a more tepid protagonist. Though she’s plenty ferocious in combat, Kora is detached and distant when not embroiled in a fight, giving the entire film a remote, inaccessible emotional core. At two hours and 15 minutes, Rebel Moon is a laborious moviegoing experience—why should the audience care about the film’s events when the protagonist herself barely seems to?

    Rebel Moon – Part One: A Child of Fire | Official Trailer | Netflix

    Rebel Moon’s lack of interest in exploring its own characters is made all the more frustrating by the cruel, visceral nature of its villains—while we don’t get much personality from Kora, Gunnar, and the other wannabe heroes, we are treated to several extended sequences that revel in the cruelty and violence of the Imperium. The vaguely fascist ruling faction is clearly an underbaked stand-in for Star Wars’ Empire, but Snyder mistakes onscreen brutality for effective writing. The film’s first act subjects viewers to an extended sequence of Imperium soldiers attempting to rape a villager, a scene that serves no other purpose than making explicitly clear to the audience that the authoritarian military occupiers are, in fact, bad guys.

    The world Snyder has created is a cold, brutal one, utterly lacking in any kind of charm, whimsy, or excitement. The closest Rebel Moon ever comes to eliciting any kind of emotional response is during the action-packed, slo-mo heavy combat sequences. Stories like Star Wars and Dune soar by using far-fetched worlds and fantastical settings to interrogate relatable, deeply human ideas. Rebel Moon, on the other hand, trades in the aesthetic trappings of those classics without making the effort to engage on any emotional or philosophical level.

    Though Rebel Moon ends on a relative cliffhanger with the promise of a sequel on the horizon, it’s difficult to imagine why one would want to subject themselves to another two hours in this soulless slog of a universe. Certainly, Snyder is a master of his particular brand of highly stylized action sequences, but the sheer lack of emotional stakes and memorable characters renders Rebel Moon toothless.

    Rebel Moon — Part One: A Child Of Fire begins streaming on Netflix December 21.

    This review originally appeared on The A.V. Club.

    Lauren Coates

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  • ‘Rebel Moon Part One: A Child of Fire’ Review: Zack Snyder’s Wannabe ‘Star Wars’ Franchise Kickoff Is an Interplanetary Bore

    ‘Rebel Moon Part One: A Child of Fire’ Review: Zack Snyder’s Wannabe ‘Star Wars’ Franchise Kickoff Is an Interplanetary Bore

    In 2021’s zombie heist thriller Army of the Dead, that sneaky Zack Snyder tricked us into believing he had rediscovered his sense of humor, a keen understanding of the fact that trashy fun and gory action mayhem need not be mutually exclusive. But just seconds into the leaden sci-fi saga Rebel Moon Part One: A Child of Fire, it’s clear the director is back to indulging his worst tendency for self-serious bombast. That opening features the sonorous voice of Anthony Hopkins droning away over a gloomy spacescape: “On the Motherworld, blah, blah, blah…” It’s a glop of garbled narrative foundation that makes the opening text crawl on the original Star Wars look like a haiku.

    The epochal George Lucas creation that spawned a billion Disney spinoffs appears to be very much on Snyder’s mind in this major undertaking for Netflix, with a reported budget for the two-parter of $165 million. The project has been kicking around in the director’s head for decades, which might explain how so much Star Wars mythology got tangled up in it, not to mention Dune, Avatar and even a dollop of Game of Thrones.

    Rebel Moon Part One: A Child of Fire

    The Bottom Line

    Not kidding, it’s just part one.

    Release date: Friday, Dec. 22
    Cast: Sofia Boutella, Djimon Hounsou, Ed Skrein, Michiel Huisman, Doona Bae, Ray Fisher, Charlie Hunnam, Anthony Hopkins, Staz Nair, Cleopatra Coleman
    Director: Zack Snyder
    Screenwriters: Zack Snyder, Kurt Johnstad, Shay Hatten

    Rated PG-13,
    2 hours 13 minutes

    This is a derivative crazy-quilt endeavor loaded with enough plot to plug up a black hole but only the most feebly drawn characters to do the work. Its theme of resistance against oppression is too basic to carry much weight.

    In case you forgot this is the guy who redefined gay soft-core porn with the big, dumb slab of Ancient Greek battle pulp, 300, almost everyone here has killer abs. One notable exception is the disgusting jowly blob who hits on Michiel Huisman’s hot farmer Gunnar in a spaceport dive bar full of mercenaries, thugs and freaks, which might invite charges of homophobia if anyone were silly enough to take Rebel Moon seriously.

    Then there’s the head-clobbering obviousness of a fascist militia enforcing the merciless rule of the Motherworld, controlled since the slaughter of the king by the power-hungry Regent Balisarius (Fra Fee). His emissary is the vicious — wait for it — Admiral Noble (Ed Skrein), a sinewy sadist sporting Bolshevik-style outerwear over Nazi-chic black and white, who favors bashing his victims’ skulls in with a staff made from the bone of some ancient creature.

    Snyder never met a superhero team roundup he didn’t love, and although he’s put aside capes and spandex for rugged galactic garb, the screenplay he co-wrote with Kurt Johnstad and Shay Hatten plays like the result of someone feeding Seven Samurai and Star Wars into AI scriptwriting software.

    The warrior in charge of recruiting insurgents to go up against Noble’s army is Kora (Sofia Boutella), a brooding stranger taken in by a peaceful farming community after crash-landing on the remote moon Veldt. Village chief Sindri (Corey Stoll in an unfortunate beaded beard) has barely finished urging everyone to honor the harvest gods with rabid lovemaking, or “thrusting of hips” as he lustily calls it, when Noble’s hulking warships appear in the sky.

    The Motherworld contingent descends to discuss the supply of grain for their underfed armies, their negotiations turning nasty as Noble horrifies the assembled farmers with an act of violence and clarifies his demands: “It’s simple. I want everything.”

    He leaves behind a goon squad to take charge of the crops, and while Kora is preparing to flee, she hears the screams of sweet young villager Sam (Charlotte Maggi) being manhandled. “I’ll turn her from a farm girl to a whore!” declares an especially skeevy brute. In one of the worst bits of rape dialogue in recent memory, the senior officer snatches Sam away from that a-hole underling, bellowing, “I’ll split this sapling myself, and then you can have her. Then you can all have her, mwahahahah!” It’s in moments like this that Snyder confuses menacing with gross.

    Luckily, Kora is handy enough with axe, guns, fists and feet to spare Sam, before convincing the farmers that they’re going to have to learn the art of war. She takes off with Gunnar, who has contacts in the resistance, looking to enlist skilled fighters to train the villagers. En route, she fills in the details of her past for him: “I’m only telling you this so you know who I am.” No, sorry, girl, you’re only telling him this because the audience requires that giant exposition dump to make sense of this nonsense.

    Their first connection is with shady pilot Han Solo, who agrees to transport them on the Millennium Falcon. Oops, sorry, I mean bounty hunter Kai (Charlie Hunnam), who whisks them off on his freighter. Hopping from one planetary outpost to another, Kora and Gunnar win over formidable warriors to help their cause. Among them is an ‘80s calendar model, or something, Tarak (Staz Nair); a lethal swordswoman with fire blades for arms, Nemesis (Doona Bae); a fallen general, Titus (Djimon Hounsou); and an insurgent leader, Darrian Bloodaxe (Ray Fisher), who heads a rebel army fighting the Motherworld with his sister Devra (Cleopatra Coleman).

    Along the way, Snyder weaves in plenty of outré sci-fi weirdness, which might seem original if you’re new to the genre. There’s a yucky talking bug right out of Naked Lunch; a spiderwoman (Jena Malone) who’s like a vengeful upgrade on Greek mythology’s Arachne, as seen in the ‘90s Hercules series; and a griffin-like winged beast called a Bennu, which creature whisperer Tarak gets to break in, recalling similar scenes with the Hippogriff in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban or the leonopteryx in Avatar. Some jolts of creepiness seem to have been tossed in as random arcana without explanation, notably the leech-like tentacles Noble plugs into his torso for kicks at bath time.

    Will the fanboys go for all this elaborate world-building, inevitably leading to a deadly faceoff on the insurgents’ way home to Veldt? Hard to say. I for one won’t be sorry never to see poor old King Levitica again; he’s a peace-loving monkish ruler with flowing robes and a head like a frozen turkey raised too close to a nuclear reactor. Do aliens really have to look this stupid?

    Action scenes are serviceable enough but rarely exciting, pumped up with Snyder’s usual tool kit of speed-ramping and slo-mo. But there’s a grimy aesthetic to the movie that becomes ugly and tiresome (the director took on the DP role himself), and the episodic plotting seldom builds enough steam to stop you thinking about other things, like if there’s no reference to these characters ever having lived on Earth, why does Kai have a thick Irish brogue? And beyond global representation, what’s with the whole hodgepodge of accents anyway — British, Australian, South African, etc.?

    Boutella, who reportedly did the majority of her own stunts, acquits herself capably, acing the fight choreography and looking cool in a hooded cloak. Hunnam also gets to show some spark and Bae certainly looks commanding in her all-black kumdo suit. But there’s not much scope for the actors to do anything of interest beyond scowl, fight or look anxious.

    At least Hopkins got out of it with only voice duties as Jimmy, an android soldier whose fighting days ended with the death of the king. His once regal armor is reduced to a battered tin-can shell and his military programming has given way to contemplative human feelings. When young Sam recognizes the robot’s kindness early on and crowns him with flowers, it sparks Jimmy’s final rejection of Motherworld doctrine.

    The droid’s rogue appearance at the end of the film — having gone full animal-cult with a set of antlers, seriously — hints at a more active role in Part Two: The Scargiver, due in April. For anyone not already too scarred to check back in, that is.

    David Rooney

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