The Brutalist

We now go to the biggest film of this Oscar season, bar none.

Nearly everything about The Brutalist, Brady Corbet's third feature, is gigantic. It's a movie about grand architecture - made especially obvious if you see it in IMAX (which I did) - set over several decades and it comes with an astronomical runtime of 215 minutes (15 of which are an intermission). The only thing small about it is its budget of just under $10 million. So, let's break ground on this review, shall we?

In the film's overture, we see László Tóth (Adrien Brody), a Hungarian-Jewish refugee, make his way through a tight crowd to get his first glimpse of the Statue of Liberty. This momentous occasion is visualized by Lol Crawley's claustrophobic cinematography and accentuated with Daniel Blumberg's mammoth score, which reaches its crescendo once we finally see Her. The looming Lady Liberty is displayed on the film's posters, and it's especially memorably once we see Her in context.

A renowned architect in Europe, László gets a job at his cousin, Attila's (Alessandro Nivola) furniture store in Philadelphia. One day, a rich guy named Harry Lee Van Buren (Joe Alwyn) hires them to renovate his father's personal library. But that goes haywire when Harrison Sr. (Guy Pearce) shows up and throughs them out in a rage, which leads to Harry Jr. stiffing them for the bill and Atilla throwing out László. Eventually, Harrison warms up to the library after it brings him good press, and he commissions László to build a new community center named for his late mother.

Over the next few years, László lives on the Van Buren estate as he supervises the construction. A few architectural busybodies get in his way, while a devastating train accident nearly literally derails the whole thing. He's soon joined by his wife, Erzsébet (Felicity Jones), whom we hear in voiceover during Act One, and their niece, Zsófia (Raffey Cassidy). His life seems to turn around, but his American Dream starts to crumble when he realizes how rotten his patron is.

Sure, Harrison seems legitimately charming when he apologizes to László for his earlier outburst. He shows nothing but respect for László's architectural skills, even if it's only because of the good press. He seems quite selfless when he gets his lawyer, Michael Hoffman (Peter Polycapou), to hasten Erzsebet and Zsofia's emigration. During act two, his friendliness devolves into condescending compassion until a single act turns him downright monstrous. By the end, he proves himself a bit cowardly too. All in all, it's an impressive villain performance by Pearce, and his Oscar nomination is as deserved as everyone else here who got one, too.

You won't forget the star of the show. Even as the minutes pile up, Brody's compelling performance as László will help keep your eyes on the screen. When we first see him, the claustrophobia is so tight that we don't know where he is; for all we know, he could be fleeing bombs. But once he, and we, see Lady Liberty, the joy is palpable. He has great chemistry with Atilla and his wife, Audrey (Emma Laird), and you'll be devastated when the good times end. His most egotistical moments, such as his fight with an aforementioned busybody, Jim Simpson (Michael Epp), are quite understandable. You'll feel for him as his American Dream turns sour, and wonder, despite the last words, if the destination or journey was worth it.

Now for a few other characters. Jones is pretty good as Erzsébet, but she's downright excellent when she publicly confronts Harrison for his abuse of László. Harry, meanwhile, proves himself as ultimately detestable as his old man; his sister Maggie (Stacy Martin), meanwhile, proves herself the nicest person in her family by far. Isaach de Bankolé is quite likable as Gordon, whom László befriends on a breadline and subsequently hires on his crew. Among Van Buren's crew, the most memorable is Jonathan Hyde as the builder Leslie Woodrow.

This is the first film in over sixty-years to use the VistaVision process for its cinematography. After the claustrophobic opening, the film uses that process to show us the depths of Judy Becker's magnificent production design. Every locale, from a diner to the inside of the community center, is beyond appealing. A few establishing shots are unbelievably pristine and are especially great in IMAX. Crowley's long takes, such as Erzsébet's confrontation with Harrison, are exquisite. When László insults Simpson, you can feel Simpson's rage rise for a good while before he throws down. Kudos to editor Dávid Jancsó for letting Epp's acting speak for itself. 

The Brutalist's gigantic scale on such a low budget befits the architectural style that gives it its name. Yes, it's a hard film to sit through, both with its often-dark turns and its length, but that intermission is a great help. Still, it was rarely boring, and that was mostly due to its central performance and its grand architecture. I'd still advise that you see it as early as you can, even if it's not in IMAX, for it is such a commitment. But I think it's a commitment worth taking at least once.

That's it for now.

Wallace & Gromit: Vengeance Most Fowl

How about we start this year's sprint to the Oscars with something fun?

Who better than Wallace and Gromit, the signature duo of Aardman Animations? All but two of their previous cinematic adventures have won Oscars, so it was no surprise their second feature film, Vengeance Most Fowl, would pop up in the Best Animated Feature lineup. Here's what to expect when you play it on Netflix.

This is actually a sequel to their first Oscar-winning short, The Wrong Trousers, which ended with cheese-loving inventor Wallace (Ben Whitehead) and his dog Gromit (eternally silent) nabbing the evil penguin mastermind Feathers McGraw (also eternally silent). Now serving a life sentence at the zoo, Feathers bides his time plotting to reclaim the Blue Diamond, the MacGuffin from the previous short. After that, he'll get his vengeance most fowl.

Meanwhile, Wallace invents Norbot (Reece Shearsmith), a robot garden gnome who's too good at his job. They start a gardening business together, while Gromit feels left out by Wallace's tech-dependence (he even has a gizmo for head pats!). Gromit accidentally allows Feathers to hack into Norbot and create an army of evil Norbots to wreck Wallace's good name. With Wallace's inventing future at stake, it's up to Gromit to shutdown Feathers' latest scheme. That's mostly it.

It doesn't take much to get acquainted, or reacquainted, with the series' gentle silliness, which is personified by Wallace and Gromit's morning routine. It's delightfully funny as Gromit works Wallace's overly complicated inventions to help him do the simplest tasks. It's less funny when Wallace unveils the "pat-o-matic," the aforementioned head patting gizmo, which does little for Gromit's interpersonal needs. However, you'll never forget that Wallace, despite his ignorance, still cares for Gromit. That much is affirmed in the climax, an action set-piece with speeding (for lack of a better word) narrowboats. The resolution also gives us a nice reversal of Wallace's tech-dependence.

Also in the cast are Chief Inspector Mackintosh (Peter Kay), who returns from the feature Curse of the Were-Rabbit, and his new PC, Mukherjee (Lauren Patel). Mackintosh is too presumptuous of Wallace's guilt, but his buffoonish personality makes it hard to hate him. Mukherjee is slightly better in that she actually gives Wallace the benefit of the doubt; not even her doubting him for a bit is enough to dislike her. Even the aptly named reporter Onya Doorstep (Diane Morgan) is quite funny, as is anchor Anton Deck (Muzz Khan).

The Norbots are delightfully silly even if they're supposed to be annoying. I think it has to do with their chipper personality, even as they overly cultivate many a garden. Their charging routine, which involves them moaning an interminable time just to reach one-percent charge, is hilarious. Gromit's attempt to relocate Norbot Prime during his routine ends up kickstarting the plot. The Norbots also have an overly chirpy song that makes for a surprising earworm. Conversely, the deadeyes of the evil Norbots are appropriately disturbing. You'll just have to see how Wallace and Gromit literally reboot them, or how they save the day in the climax.

Gromit and Feathers may be bereft of dialogue, but that's compensated by Aardman's trademark plasticine animation. Feathers' blank face is unnerving, especially when he briefly parodies Max Cady from Cape Fear, but even he has bits of silliness. He's quite flummoxed by Wallace's cyber-security measures, at first. But he figures it out with an obvious clue. It's quite goofy, rather than idiotic, how nobody sees through Feathers' paper-thin disguises (like his trademark chicken disguise). Gromit is a lot more vocal, as he speaks with just the raise of an eyebrow. We laugh as he plays the straight man, and we feel for him when he bemoans Wallace's tech-dependence. He proves an awesome dog when he leads the final battle against Feathers and the evil Norbots. 

 This is the first main instalment in which Whitehead voices Wallace, who was voiced by Peter Sallis until his retirement in 2010, and I must say his voice is almost indistinguishable. All the better, as Wallace still feels as delightfully chipper as ever. Julian Notts' signature march is enough to ease you into the proceeding 79-minutes. Its grand, yet gentle tune will get you feeling good even if you haven't seen a Wallace and Gromit entry in years. The same goes for Nott and co-composer Lorne Balfe's overall score, even when it gets intense. Its numerous gags and puns are delightful; Feathers' stint behind bars is called "doing bird," Gromit partakes in a Virgina Woof novel, and the Norbots do a Flintstones maneuver with Wallace's van. You'll just have to see the film for more. 

What else can I say about it? Vengeance Most Fowl would make for a grand day out at the movies. At home, it makes for a fun time on Netflix, and it's not even a close shave. Once again, Aardman have proven themselves able to entertain kids and adults alike with their plasticine characters. It'll make for a great home matinee well-beyond this year's Oscars; seek out their previous shorts while you're at it. As for me, I'm going to look for a few more contenders.

Wolf Man

The Oscar nominations are only a day away, but I'm not sure about Maria's chances this year. 

Sure, just because Angelina Jolie missed a few critical nominations, that doesn't mean her chances are over. Just ask Kristen Stewart, whose nomination for Spencer was much miraculous given some similar circumstances. That lack of attention doesn't bode well for the shortlisted makeup team, though.

Fortunately, Arjen Tuiten, who aged Jolie in Maria, has a better chance at recognition next year. That chance is Wolf Man, Leigh Whannell's take on the famous Universal Monster. Sure, the critical reception has been mixed, but Rick Baker won his seventh Oscar for Best Makeup for 2010's The Wolfman, which had an even worse reception. You won't forget the depths of Blake Lovell's (Christopher Abbott) transformation here even if you forget most of the story.

Anyway, as a young boy (Zac Chandler) in 1995 Oregon, Blake was raised by his survivalist dad, Grady (Sam Jaeger). After a traumatic hunting trip, we jump to this year to find Blake living in San Francisco with his journalist wife, Charlotte (Julia Garner), and their daughter Ginger (Matilda Firth). His home life is good, though he still tries to mind his pent-up anger. One day, Grady, who went missing years ago, is declared dead, and Blake has to settle his estate. He takes the family up to his old Oregon home to do just that.

On the way there, the Lovells get into a weird truck crash with a local werewolf. The monster chases them to Brady's old cabin, where the family decides to hold up for the night. While the werewolf tries to break in, Blake, who was scratched in the initial attack, slowly transforms into another werewolf. It's up to Blake to defend his family from the monster at the door before he becomes the monster within. I think that's mostly it.

As far as exposition goes, Whannell and co-writer/wife Corbett Tuck only devote some opening text, where we learn of a local disease called "Face of the Wolf," to explain the origins of this Wolf Man. It's rarely brought back up in the story, which leaves us to surmise the mechanics. For one thing, there's no full moon involved, so Blake transforms throughout the night. Cinematographer Stefan Duscio and the sound team frequently bring us into his perspective as his senses change, which makes for neat technical storytelling. The stages of Blake's physical transformation are well-visualized by Tuiten and his team. It's pretty saddening, though, as the transformation is framed as a terminal disease, much like in David Cronenberg's The Fly, and the end results are as pitiable as they are scary.

Early on, Blake scolds Ginger for walking on street cones, and later tenses up when Charlotte refuses to take a phone call to another room. That's mostly it for anger issues until he gets werewolved. Still, Abbott does a pretty good job playing Blake as a guy struggling to contain his demons. That gets more apparent when he starts going Wolf Man. Blake and Ginger, that incident aside, have an endearing relationship, which further amplifies the tragedy of his terminal transformation. Charlotte, meanwhile, gradually gets more compelling when she is forced to fend off Wolf Man Blake. 

Let's talk a bit about the supporting cast. Grady, from what we see of him, means well, but is overly harsh. On the one hand, he's only his scariest when he scolds Blake for running off during their hunting trip. On the other hand, he could have been more upfront about the viral hominid roaming the woods. Ben Prenderghast is quite scary as the other Wolf Man, though his secret is probably too easy to guess. Benedict Hardie is quite likable as Derek, an old acquaintance of Blake's whom the Lovells pick up on their journey. He would have been a great Mr. Exposition if the film hadn't made him the Red Shirt, instead. 

Why did I say the truck crash was weird? Well, the Lovells are driving along when they see the other Wolf Man. They swerve, and suddenly, they're on the treetops. It's not exactly great editing or effects, there. We get our best looks at the other Wolf Man when he and Blake duke it out. It's too quickly edited, but we still comprehend what the monster is, being as a sickly variation of the design codified by Jack Pierce over 80 years ago. I wasn't exactly impressed when I first saw the design months ago, but I must say it looks pretty good with the right lighting.

Meanwhile, Duscio's location shooting in the New Zealand countryside, which stands in for Oregon, is breathtaking. A pivotal shot has Blake and Grady overlook the valley and is later revisited by Ginger & Charlotte. The majesty of those moments is accentuated by Benjamin Wallfisch's intense score. Its opening shot, in which a yellowjacket is besieged by ants, is as disturbing as the monster madness that follows. The Lovells' long night is dark, in more ways than one, and the aforementioned sound team maintains the dread as it reminds us of the other Wolf Man. It's not exactly fun, but it's still effectively scary.

I think that last sentence sums up this Wolf Man. Anybody who wants a movie with a few good scares and sustained dread will get their money's worth. Anybody who just wants a fun monster movie needs to look elsewhere. I know that Whannell's The Invisible Man isn't that too fun either, but there is relief in seeing Cecilia fight back and kill her abusive invisible stalker. A few decent family moments give us quite a bit of relief from the oncoming horror. Without them, the whole film would be unbearable. Now that I've seen it, I'm tempted to watch The Fly for comparison. See it soon and you might get the same urge ... or not.

Better Man

I admit that I was skeptical about Better Man before it ever came out. It mostly had to do with its central premise: it's a jukebox musical biopic of Robbie Williams where he's played by a CGI chimpanzee. Its gimmick made sense, however, once I realized why it took that approach. Let me try to explain.

Jonno Davies dons a mo-cap suit to portray and voice Robbie the Chimp. Meanwhile, Williams himself narrates the film, while he and Adam Tucker sing his songs (I can't tell them apart). According to Robbie the Narrator, he always saw himself as "less evolved" than everyone else, which explains this gimmick. That's enough to get you going. And it's hardly the reason why its Visual Effects Team is guaranteed an Oscar slot in less than a week!

Anyway, we're formally introduced to Robbie as a lad (Asmara Feik doing mo-cap, Carter J. Murphy doing vocals) in 1982 Stoke-on-Trent. He's not popular with his peers, but his "nan" Betty (Allison Steadman) and mom Janet (Kate Mulvaney) think he's special. His dad, Peter (Steve Pemberton), leaves the family to try to become the next Sinatra, which damages Robbie's self-esteem. Years later, Robbie becomes a superstar when he earns a spot on the pop group Take That. 

A few years later, Robbie is addicted to fame and drugs, which gets him kicked out of the band. He soon falls for Nicole Appleton (Raechelle Banno) of fellow pop group All Saints, but his ego gets in the way. His addictions also exasperate his crippled self-esteem, which manifests with some creepy hallucinations. How creepy? He sees himself - multiple versions of himself - in the audience, taunting him. He soon commits to becoming a better man after a particularly disturbing concert.

Director Michael Gracey, in his first film since The Greatest Showman, co-wrote the film with Simon Gleeson and Oliver Cole. It doesn't take much to get used to its oft-kilter gimmick because Robbie the Chimp feels that real. Early on, young Robbie recovers from a blunder during a school production of The Pirates of Penzance with gusto, only to get brought back down when he realizes Peter isn't there. It's just a preview of the emotional highs and lows you'll experience over 135 minutes. Later on, Robbie the Narrator sums up his feelings towards his former manager, Nigel Martin-Smith (Damon Herriman), in a hilarious bait-and-switch. The best acted - and best written - moment comes when Betty inadvertently reveals her being diagnosed with dementia.

What else does the film have besides an impressively rendered ape? An exciting soundtrack, of course! The biggest highlight is easily Rock DJ, in which Robbie and his Take That bandmates dance around Regent Street in a long take complete with multiple costume changes! The choreography, cinematography, arrangement, and editing for that sequence is nothing less than outstanding. If you need one reason for its Oscar nomination, then this is it right here. It could have gotten another Oscar nomination for its original end credit song, Forbidden Road, which makes for a nice listen. Unfortunately, it's been disqualified because The Academy thought it sounded too similar to I Got a Name. I can see their point, for a bit.

It's not afraid to show the downsides of Robbie being a "cheeky monkey." When Robbie and Nicole fall in love, it's during an endearing sequence set to a duet, She's The One. But when Robbie's ego runs wild, she understandably breaks up with him. He also pushes away several potential collaborators, particularly Take That bandmate Gary Barlow (Jake Simmance) and Oasis frontman Liam Gallagher (Leo Harvey-Elledge). As a superstar, his bad boy kayfabe is entertaining; as a person, it's insufferable. He even realizes as much with his depression, which culminates in him fighting his demons at Knebworth. It's quite nice to see him eventually reconcile with his acquaintances, even if it was hard to keep track of a few of them.

And what about his family? To start with, Betty and Janet are both delightful. You can especially sympathize with Janet when Robbie's crowding fans become too much for her. Betty, meanwhile, makes for a warm presence even after she eventually dies. Even Robbie watching TV at her grave is quite endearing. Steve, meanwhile, supports Robbie the superstar to the point that he forgets Robbie, his son. He does it when Robbie is a boy, and when Robbie is a man, this contributes to Robbie's unnerving breakdown at Knebworth. Robbie calling out Steve for his neglect is well-done, while their ultimate reconciliation is kind of nice. 

Robbie Williams apparently doesn't have much of a fanbase in America, which is partially why Better Man is sinking at the box-office. Don't let the unusual gimmick further deter you. Just step right in and you'll be entertained by its great soundtrack and compelling life story. You'll be amazed as its bug becomes a feature and then forget there was even a gimmick in the first place. I guarantee you won't forget Rock DJ anytime soon. But it might not be long before it's forced to Rock (DJ!) out of theatres. So, see it soon.

That's it for now.

Blitz

This past weekend, Apple offered its account holders free access to Apple TV+. Since I still have the Apple account I created from my past Apple TV subscription, I knew I had to watch something. In fact, I already knew what it was.

That would be Blitz, Steve McQueen's World War II drama that premiered theatrically and on Apple TV+ a few months ago. I've heard it hyped for quite a bit, so let's finally see how it is.

In 1940, young George Hanway (Elliot Heffernan), who is biracial, lives happily in London with his mom, Rita (Saorise Ronan) and Granddad Gerald (Paul Weller). When The Blitz starts that September, George is among the thousands of kids evacuated to the English countryside. George refuses to acknowledge his mother when she says goodbye at the station, and we're left with his long and resentful blank stare as the scene fades away.

A short time later, George gets homesick, so he jumps off the train and gets going back to London. He meets a few interesting characters, including a sinister couple, Albert (Stephen Graham) and Beryl (Kathy Burke), who get George to help them steal from bombed-out buildings. Meanwhile, Rita does her patriotic duty as a munitionette and a shelter volunteer. All the while, the Nazi war machine continues to rain down on Great Britain. Will there be a happy ending?

This is basically a Dickensian story set during World War II, only without a massive length. George spends the movie meeting one new character - or a set of them - then moves on to the next. Before the aforementioned Fagin-esque crooks, George first meets a trio of young train-hopping brothers. They're all likable lads, who initially tease George with some light nursery rhyming. Indeed, it's a shocking swerve when the oldest brother is abruptly run over by a train. That's followed by him meeting Ife (Benjamin Clementine), a Nigerian MP who helps George accept his racial identity. He's a pretty good guy, but he's also too good to last to the end.

We don't see anyone get blown up, but we do feel the dread in the air. There's an extended party scene at a nightclub, all but stated to be the Cafe de Paris, just before everyone hears a bomb falling. In the next scene, Goerge is scavenging the bombed-out nightclub with Albert's gang. A few other scenes see sheltering Londoners listen to The Blitz, with each bomb threatening their Underground shelter. It's this sense of constant dread that got its sound designers a spot on the Oscar-shortlist, and perhaps a nomination. Its opening act, which shows the chaos during the first attack, would be a great scene to show the Sound Branch.

That same dread accentuates George's journey rather well. His jumping off the train is quite reckless, but we also understand why he did it. His first scavenging mission is at a jewelry shop that sounds like it might completely collapse any second. While I said we don't see anyone blown up, George flees as bombs explode around him during an attack and is later caught up in the Balham Tube Flood. Besides The Blitz, he also deals with the frighteningly loathsome and unstable Albert and his cronies. Heffernan's compelling performance keeps us invested in George's odyssey during the two-hour runtime. 

What about the adults? Well, Rita is just as compelling as her son, especially when she tells off some government bigwigs for letting George escape and does the same to her stingy boss. We only see George's dad, a Grenadian immigrant named Marcus (CJ Beckford) for one long flashback, before he's unfairly taken away from the movie. He still makes an impression as a likable guy. A few more sympathetic characters include Jess (Mica Ricketts), and oddly enough, Ruby (Heather Craney). Jess, who is basically Albert's talent scout, recruits George in the gang, and clearly hates doing so. Ruby, meanwhile, nurses George back to health after the Tube Flood and reports him to the authorities. I'd like to hope she was obliviously acting on the best of intentions.

What else can I say about it? I had little trouble with Ife & shelter supervisor Mickey Davies's (Leigh Gill) "we're all in this together" speeches, other than that they were a bit blunt. There are a few random scene transitions, including a field of flowers that lack context, while the balancing act between George and Rita's storylines is a bit off. I mean, it takes over an hour before we see Rita learn of George's escape. Rita's also an aspiring singer, but that barely goes anywhere, other than her getting to sing the admittedly nice and Oscar-shortlisted Winter Coat for the BBC. While McQueen wrote the song with Nicholas Britell & Taura Stinson, the also-shortlisted Hans Zimmer provides the intense score.

Blitz was clearly made with the best of intentions. Fortunately, these intentions give us a pretty good war drama. Its story of survival is compelling, while its scattershot and bluntest elements are barely a detriment. And yes, to answer the earlier question, there is a happy ending, but I won't spoil how it plays out. The only way for you to know is if you check it out on Apple TV+ yourself. As I said last year, I might get back to it if I'm feeling secure about my finances. All that said, I think I might check out the movie again if I get back on the service. I think it's worth some of the hype. 

Now, to the next review.

Maria

 For the third of his “accidental trilogy” of 20th-century women, Pablo Larrain presents us Maria, his biopic of the opera soprano Maria Callas. Let's open the curtains and see what we learn.

The film begins with her death on September 16, 1977. It then works through Maria’s (Angelina Jolie) last week as she reminisces about her life with Mr. Mandrax (Kodi Smit-Mcphee), a journalist and the personification of her favorite medication. Yes, really. 

By this point, a lifetime of substance abuse and a diagnosis of dermatomyotosis (which isn’t named in the film) have sidelined Maria. Mandrax follows Maria as she trains with conductor Jeffrey Tate (Stephen Ashfield) for a stage comeback. Mandrax doesn’t like her odds, though; he actually tells her his new documentary is called “La Callas: The Last Days.” Hopefully, she can sing again even if it’s the last thing she does.

Throughout the film, we see glimpses of Maria’s roles in such operas as Madame Butterfly and Anna Bolena. These performances showcase not just the scores of those operas, but the elaborate costumes and sets designed by Massimo Cantini Parrini and Guy Hendrix Dyas. The cinematographer, Edward Lachman, sells us on the magnificence of these performances, though I wasn’t keen on him shooting from the back row a few times. One such case is her first scene at Tate’s stage; I had a hard time figuring out where she was when she came in. I’ll highlight the sound portion later on.

Her most significant flashbacks involve her affair with Aristotle Onassis (Haluk Bilginer). Bilginer portrays Onassis as a charming scoundrel with emphasis on scoundrel. We get some nice scenes of them together, including a well-acted bit where she sees him on his death bed. In the present, her butler Ferrucio (Pierfrancesco Favino) and housekeeper Bruna (Alba Rohrwacher) enliven the film with their devotion not just to her, but to each other. Maria herself even points that out.

And now, “La Callas” herself. As played by Jolie, Maria doesn't need much to show off her strong personality. Early on, she politely, and sternly, declines Mandrax's inquiry on why she burned her costumes one time. He backs down, but she alludes to an answer anyway. She frequently denies her friends and doctor's (Vincent Macaigne) advice, but deep down, she might already know she needs help. She hallucinates, among other things, a crowd singing the Anvil Chorus from IL Trovatore at her. What is surely her dying dream has her breaking down while finally giving her comeback performance at her apartment. It takes quite a while for Jolie's performance to resonate, but I think it will. The only thing stopping her from an Oscar nomination is her huge competition.

The film has Jolie lip-synching to Callas's recordings, with occasionally herself singing, though it's sometimes hard to tell which is which. The recordings sound great, but there are some obvious discrepancies between sound and visuals that pop up. At one point, Maria and Onassis attend Marilyn Monroe's famous birthday serenade of JFK (once again, Caspar Phillipson), which also has her actress lip-synch to a recording. We hear the crowd cheer before we see them do it. Oops. Again, the shoot from the back row strategy doesn't do some of these performances any favors.

I saw the movie on January 2nd, and it took me until now to type up this review. On my first watch, Maria was so dour that the only thing that moved me was the sound of her poodles whimpering over her corpse. But underneath the dour ending, there's a compelling arc of Maria regaining her former self before it's too late. I wonder if I'm the only one who realizes it. If you just want a great opera highlight reel, you won't be disappointed when you Netflix and chill with this biopic. It doesn't need fancy sound systems to sound great, that's for sure.

 Next up, a review produced under interesting circumstances.