Wildwood

Welcome back, Laika.

The studio’s first film in nearly a decade, Wildwood, has actually been in development ever since 2011, when the original novel by Colin Meloy of The Decembrists was published. That’s right, it’s been on the pipeline during most of Laika’s existence. And it was generally worth it.

Prue McKeel (Peyton Elizabeth-Lee), much like Laika itself, lives her days in Portland, Oregon. Her parents (Jake Johnson & Maya Erskine) give her two rules before they head off for the day - don’t take her baby brother, Mac (Arthur Knight, director Travis’s son), outside, and don’t go into the ominously named Impassable Wilderness. When Prue ignores the first rule, a murder of crows whisks away Mac. She and her classmate, Curtis Mehlberg (Jacob Tremblay), ignore the second to go after them.

The Wilderness, also called Wildwood, is populated by humans and talking animals alike. There’s war brewing between the forces of its exiled dowager governess, Alexandra (Carey Mulligan), and everyone else, which includes a community of bandits led by Brendan (Mahershala Ali), an Avian Principality led by Prince Owl Rex (Richard E. Grant), and a tribe of mystics led by Iphigenia (Tantoo Cardinal). Alexandra wants to use Mac for a ritual to awaken Wildwood’s extremely destructive Ivy. It’s up to Prue and Curtis to organize the disparate forces into a united front. That’s the gist of it.

If you’re already thinking “that sounds like a lot,” you’re right. Besides the aforementioned factions, there’s also the current governor, Lars (Marc Evan Jackson), and his scheming deputy, Roger (Jemaine Clement). Lars imprisons Prue for reasons, and it takes quite a while before he pops back in. Meanwhile, there’s a postmaster (Len Cariou) who seems to be a muggle, but there’s not much worldbuilding with him. Naturally, some of the rank-and-file characters don’t get much development before they’re offed. In short, even with its epic length of 132-minutes (the longest ever afforded to a stop-motion movie), it’s sometimes hard to keep up with everyone in these wildwoods.

On a related note, there’s also the Avian Principality’s General (Angela Bassett), an elegant golden eagle who is probably the best designed puppet here. Unfortunately, she’s unceremoniously killed off about halfway in. She was a cool character, but it’s disappointing that she wasn’t more so.

A few more substantial characters include Septima (Awkwafina), Curtis’s rat sidekick; Maksim (Tom Waits), Alexandra’s coyote general; and Dmitri (Charlie Day), the runt of Maksim’s corps. Septima and Dmitri have pretty good character arcs, while Maksim is a decently gruff co-antagonist. While the cast is obviously packed with celebrity voices, I barely recognized any of them until the credits. That even includes Awkwafina, which is surprising considering her extensive animation credits.

Between the two protagonists, I found Curtis’s arc the more compelling one. It’s remarkable how Curtis, the goofy sidekick, proves himself a bigger hero than either he or the audience could’ve given himself credit for. During his subplot, he wins over the bandits and is torn up when he’s forced to kill Maksim to save Prue. That’s not saying that Prue is boring, far from it. She does discover a dark secret concerning her and Mac’s origins, and she doesn’t take it well. That moment is expertly acted, both in puppet and vocal forms.

Alexandra is motivated by the loss of her son, both as a human and a soul-powered automaton, and her status. Her grief, which borders around suicidal and omnicidal, makes her one scary villain even at her most cordial. She doesn’t revel in her villainy, but she doesn’t see any path beyond it. A few viewers might get confused with her campaign, but I think it’s pretty clear cut.

Do you know what’s also pretty clear cut? The puppets themselves. I already discussed the General, but everyone here is a well-sculpted character. During its extensive crowd scenes, I started to forget that everyone present was a puppet. Their very fluid animations had me thinking some of them were CGI or even live actors! I don’t know why.

Granted, the murder of crows was CGI, but even their numbers were scanned from real puppets. As usual, the digital additions to its practical sets are well-integrated. It helps having cinematography veteran Caleb Deschanel photographing them. His crowning achievement here is its big final battle on par with The Lord of the Rings. You just need to see it for yourself.

Let’s not forget the music, shall we? Dario Marianelli’s elegant score is always prepared to fit each scene, while Meloy provides his creation with a neat end credits song. They’re all worth a listen.

Keep in mind that Wildwood is not only longer than an average stop-motion film, but also more violent. It certainly earns its PG-13 rating and then some. But it’s also an artistic marvel and rather interesting dual hero’s journey. It’s worth checking out at least once, even if you have to wait for home media (where most of Laika’s output has met its biggest audiences). I’ve said enough.

Sense and Sensibility

 Jane Austen movies are a serious business; they come over and over every decade, in forms obvious and discreet, and there’s no getting rid of them.

In Plain English, Jethro!

It’s time for another film of Sense and Sensibility, Jane Austen’s official debut as a novelist. Ang Lee’s 1995 film, whose star Emma Thompson also wrote its Oscar-winning screenplay, remains a gold standard of Austen films. Let’s see what director Georgia Oakley and screenwriter Diana Reid bring to the tale.

So, what would that be?

Here goes, Vance ...

Shortly after their dad’s death, the Dashwood sisters - Elinor (Daisy Edgar-Jones), Marianne (Esme Creed-Miles) and Margaret (Bodhi Rae Breathnach) - and their mother (Caitríona Balfe), lose their financial security to their elder half-brother John (Tom Brooke) and his scheming wife, Fanny (Stacy Martin). Since it’s not-so-jolly-old England, they have no means to protest their reversal of fortune. But they do have Mrs. Jennings (Fiona Shaw), who invites them over to stay over at Devonshire. They take the invite and head off.

At Devonshire, Marianne falls for both the brooding Col. Brandon (Herbert Nordrum) and the roguish Willoughby (Frank Dillane). Elinor, meanwhile, has feelings for Fanny’s nicer brother, Edward Ferrars (George Mackay), which they can’t publicly reciprocate for various reasons. As usual, they’ll have to sift through all the romantic entanglements before they can reach a happy ever after.

And what can they expect before then?

They can expect a delightful cast, headlined rather well by Elinor and Marianne’s sisterhood. They’re joyous to watch together, especially since they never tire of each other. Apart, you’ll definitely feel for them when they face their romantic entanglements. It’s especially endearing when Elinor helps care for Marianne when the latter falls ill. And yes, the happy ending is a nice reward.

As for Margaret, she gets involved in a cute running gag at the start, but she’s barely relevant to the plot, just as she was in the novel.

The only thing I had issue with Edward is his complicated entanglement with one Lucy Steele. There’s also the prolonged misunderstanding at the finale, but what romantic comedy doesn’t have one these days? Otherwise, Edward's a good guy, and him finally proposing to Elinor will have you smiling. When Willoughby’s nice guy act eventually crumbles, he still suffers tangible shame over his misdeeds. It’s hard to top, for many, what Alan Rickman did as Col. Brandon in 1995, but this version dragging out Willoughby for a duel is quite a surprise. It helps that Nordrum’s saturnine performance fits the character, especially when he outlines his tragic backstory to Marianne.

Amongst the supporting cast, none shine brighter than Mrs. Jennings, who can chat up a storm seemingly for hours. You’ll never grow tired of her, especially whenever she chimes in with worldly advice. Her pug, with whom she’s never without, is quite enjoyable too. Her son-in-law, Mr. Middleton (Turlough Convery), is also quite the character. Meanwhile, John is just a dolt, while Fanny is an unlikable dolt, both by design.

Speaking of designs, they’re certainly not lacking in sense. It opens with Marianne running through the countryside, filmed magnificently by Arnaud Potier and accentuated by Roger Goula’s sensible score. As it goes on, we’re treated to a succession of frames that could adorn an art museum. They’re also inhabited by the exquisite works of production designer Francesca Di Mottola and costume designer Grace Snell. And finally, let’s give a point to editor Izabella Curry, for that tense duel scene. 

Wrap it up, Jethro!

I can only pronounce this Sense and Sensibility to be a respectable movie. It's not overwhelmingly romantic, but it still possesses an amiable demeanor, exquisite visuals and a delightfully quirky supporting cast. As with Emma., it's sure to take a few viewings to understand its romantic entanglements. In this viewing, I was intrigued with the narrative similarities to its literary sibling, Pride and Prejudice. Then again, it's probably because it's the most thorough Austen book I've read.

What kind of thoughts will you have? Find out for yourself if you watch it now. 

Whalefall

 About five minutes, maybe less, into Whalefall, the projector suddenly dimmed then went to black as the sound still played. It quickly got fixed and reset, so all was right in the end. Unlike what happens to Jay Gardiner (Austin Abrams) here.

Jay is looking for his dad, Mitt (Josh Brolin), or what’s left of him. A year earlier, Mitt allowed the sea to take him rather than cancer. Their relationship was rough, but Jay figures this is the best way to get closure. Jay takes an hour of air and years of Mitt’s scuba diving lessons for his mission.

During the dive, Jay witnesses a sperm whale pursuing a squid. The petty cephalopod grabs Jay just it goes down the whale’s throat. Now, Jay has to get out of the belly of the beast before either his oxygen or luck runs out. That’s the gist of it.

Daniel Kraus, with director Brian Duffield, adapted his own novel for the screenplay. During which, Jay’s setbacks are accompanied by flashbacks to life with father. For some, they are too frequent, too dull and too many. For me, they’re pretty interesting in how they gradually plant the seeds of Jay’s salvation. Chances are that you’ll remember even the tiniest details by the time they come back for the climax. After the aforementioned fiasco, they were welcome proof that the projector still worked.

As with Resident Evil, Abrams’ performance makes the implausible scenario believable. Due to the whale’s toxic atmosphere, Jay is often forced to convey his physical and emotional pain through his respirator; he suffers a lot. He is so believable that, when he frantically cries out for his new “friend” and light-source, a Jelly Fish, to stay awake, it’s as moving as it is silly. That comes when he nearly escapes, with he even crying out to a tour boat that can’t hear him. It just makes his eventual escape and rescue all the more moving.

Jay’s complicated relationship with Mitt is well-acted, even if somewhat typical. What I found fascinating about Brolin’s performance was that, even at Mitt’s worse, there’s some tangible emotional pain. To his credit, Mitt shows off some of the goodness everyone keeps saying he has. Some of his best moments come when Jay imagines the whale speaking in his voice (yes, really). Still, it’s kind of weird that he wanted Jay to be his own man, but his taskmaster attitude contradicts it. But I digress.

John Ortiz, as Mitt’s buddy Hewey, is the only other prominent human cast member. The silent prologue, where Hewey breaks down during Mitt’s suicide, tells you everything about their relationship. We also get Elisabeth Shue as Mitt’s wife, Zara, and Jane Levy & Emily Rudd as daughters Eva & Nan, but they’re mostly sidelined by the plot. Now, who do we have behind the camera?

By far, the biggest technical star is production designer Ramsey Avery, who visualized the whale’s innards with very realistic sets. While the forestomach, where Jay spends most of his plight, is alluringly bio-luminescent, the gastric acid heavy fundic stomach is the stuff of nightmares (thankfully, we don’t tour the pyloric stomach). You’d think that what we see of the whale’s mouth is CGI, but nope, it’s another set! Cinematographer Aaron Morton really sells us on Jay’s claustrophobic plight, as well as the beauty of the ocean around him. The actual CGI, meanwhile, is excellent, as is the brutal makeup work.

It’s also an excellent movie to listen to. Its nautical soundscape, both within and without the whale, is spectacular. When Jay’s ears pop due to water pressure, the sound effects are perfectly sickening. Joseph Trapanese’s stirring score is a lot easier on the ears, even when things get dire. Its soundscape means nothing if they aren’t paired with its visuals. A black screen for 106 minutes is only half a movie. Unless it’s designed that way like Derek Jarmen’s Blue, but this is different.

Instead, you really should be thinking about 127 Hours. Over a decade ago, Danny Boyle made a compelling movie about a man pinned to a boulder. This year, Whalefall is a compelling movie about a man stuck in a whale. You can ignore the implausibility of it all thanks to its strong central performance and technical work. See it soon; hopefully, your screening will go smoother than mine.

Street Fighter

 Say what you want about Street Fighter, specifically the 1994 film with Jean-Claude Van Damme and Raul Julia, but I still find it corny fun. I enjoyed it as a kid and still enjoy it even now. Street Fighter: The Legend of Chun-Li, on the other hand, was no fun at all.

So, what did I think about its third round in live-action? 

In its animated prologue set in 1987, Ryu (Andrew Koji) wins the self-explanatory World Warrior Tournament with the help of Dark Hadou, which is basically the Dark Side of the Martial Arts Force. Unfortunately, his sensei Gouken’s (Don Lee) literally demonic brother Akuma (Roman Reigns) comes looking for Ryu, but settles on fratricide. Ryu and his sworn brother, Ken (Noah Centineo) immediately part ways for different pursuits. Ryu takes up a ramen shop, while Ken becomes a celebrity fighter; neither of them are very good.

In 1993, Ryu and Ken are scouted by Chun-Li (Callina Liang) for the latest World Warrior Tournament. It’s actually a trap by her employer, M. Bison (David Dastmalchian), to extract Ryu’s power for himself. Ryu only joins when Ken does, specifically to keep Akuma off of Ken’s back. They have allies with a few of the fighters, plus Chun-Li, who’s really an Interpol spy with a score to settle with Bison.

Everybody got that? 

That’s pretty much it.

It’s a lot to take in for a simplistic plot. It also speeds through character motivations, dramatic points and even concepts in its two-hours. So, Bison wants Ryu’s power to fuel a new weapon, but we never see it (maybe it’s the super-laser in Alpha 3). Bison also killed Chun-Li’s dad, which is revealed relatively late. All the talk about “Dark Hadou” and the like mostly makes sense if you know the lore. The film just ends before these narrative punches properly land. 

For a film about a fighting tournament, it sidelines a lot of the tournament and its contestants. Characters like macho military man Guile (Cody Rhodes) and wrestler Zangief (Olivier Richters) only show off during a bar fight, while kickboxer Joe (Alexander Volkanovski) is just there. The tournament, save for Ken’s fights, just happens off-screen. Granted, the tournament was just an excuse plot in the games, but there was room for development here.

Is there anything good about it? Yes, and surprisingly enough, it’s Dan Hibiki (Andrew Schultz), Ken’s manager and other sworn brother. While seemingly a joke and a moocher, it quickly becomes clear that he really has Ken’s best interests in mind. He’s even willing to fight Akuma at the end, which gives him an A for effort. Meanwhile, we have Blanka (Jason Momoa), a green jungleman whose subplot is nearly perfect. Eric Andre, whose frequent collaborator Kitao Sakurai is the director, gets some good zingers in as the bombastic and petty announcer, Don Sauvage. And finally, we have Dhalsim (Vidyut Jammwal), Guile’s brother-in-stretchy-arms who’s the most fun character to watch in battle.

What about the more substantial characters? Ryu & Ken’s relationship is fine, even if it takes a while to understand their intricacies. Individually, their individual quests are pretty compelling. Ken earns his mettle when he finally throws his signature fireball, the flaming Hadouken, while Ryu earns his during a surprising revelation. Liang’s Chun-Li is a great straight-woman amidst the silliness; really, the only thing wrong is with the abrupt ending.

And now, for the villains. Dastmalchian’s subdued line-deliveries are rather interesting. It’s hard to top what Julia brought to Bison in the last months of his life, but Dastmalchian gives it a good effort. His minions, such as Cammy (Mel Jarnson), Juli (Rayna Vallandingham), Vega (Orville Peck) and Balrog (50 Cent), mostly standout during their fight scenes. Akuma, meanwhile, is mostly just a generic doomsday villain who, at least, knows how to make an entrance.

Street Fighter is very committed to replicating its source material. Its characters outlandish designs, special moves and even intricacies like throw-animations are present and accounted for. Even the intense techno score by Leo Birenberg & Zach Robinson incorporates the cast's classic themes rather well. The elaborate production design by Kevin Kavanaugh and stylish cinematography by Ken Seng are perfect for the craziness. The animated flashbacks by Titmouse have been compared to the 1994 anime film, Street Fighter II: The Animated Movie, but they look more like an Udon comic in motion. Either way, they're pretty neat.

Street Fighter is also too invested in its eventual sequel, hence the abrupt ending. Despite its unfocused abundance, it has enough bright spots for me to hope it gets it. Above all else, it was never boring. If you just want simple arcade action made real, then I think you'll get your quarters worth, and then some.

I've said enough.

The Social Reckoning

Man, The Social Network’s still the best movie about the internet! Who cares about The King’s Speech, am I right?

I can’t wait for The Social Network 2!

Fear not, Buck, for we now have its “spiritual companion,” The Social Reckoning. Aaron Sorkin writes, and this time, directs this continuation of Mark Zuckerberg’s (Jeremy Strong, tagging-in for Jessie Eisenberg) ultimate success story. This time, we’ll see how it’s everyone’s problem.

Huh?

In 2019, the computer illiterate Jeff Horwitz (Jeremy Allen White) becomes The Wall Street Journal’s newest tech reporter. Meanwhile, Frances Haugen (Mikey Madison) joins Facebook’s Civic Integrity Team, and is already at a crossroads. She discovers that Facebook’s algorithm is pushing users down rabbit holes full of extremism and misery. Her former friend, Kayleigh (Portia Doubleday) is case-in-point.

Jeff is assigned to cover Facebook’s activities and ends up meeting Frances. Despite her inside info - at great risk to her NDA - he needs concrete evidence before it goes to print. That happens during that pandemic, and thus, Horwitz starts publishing The Facebook Files.

Meanwhile, in 2021, Zuckerberg prepares to testify before Congress over Facebook’s influence. He prides himself a “free-speech absolutist,” until something forces him into an impossible choice. I’ll give you a hint: I started this film just as it happened.

Sorkin’s screenplay mostly takes a “just the facts” style of reporting. We’re told how Facebook’s algorithm contributed to extremism and cyber-bullying. But we rarely see it in action for ourselves. For example, Frances tells Jeff that Kayleigh used to be progressive, but there’s no before to her after. When we first see her, she intentionally loses the plot when two non-white officers, Deputies Diaz & Otumbo (Sierra Capri & Michael Braugher), try to help her during car trouble. She ends the movie having learned absolutely nothing, as does Facebook. While Frances is suspected by her supervisors, they barely pose any tangible threats. It’s much more tense when certain world events loom on the horizon.

Let’s get into the technicals now. The work by returning cinematographer Jeff Cronenweth and new composer Alexandre Desplat (tagging in for Reznor & Ross) is fine, but it’s not special either. Its most visually interesting aspect is the Facebook control room where Zuckerberg makes that choice. You can thank production designer Jon Hutman for that, along with his recreations of Facebook’s offices. Alan Baumgarten, taking over editing duties from Baxter & Wall, switches back-and-forth between Zuckerberg and Jeff/Frances’s storylines with a handy sliding timeline graphic. His best work comes when he builds up to a certain something…

Physically, Strong’s resemblance to Zuckerberg still has me double-take. Personality-wise, he’s nothing like the fascinating egomaniac in The Social Network. He’s mostly stiff and stoic when he talks business, free speech and the business in free speech. He gets his best moments when the fictionalized Charlie Garrigan (Bill Burr) gets under his skin. Their antagonistic history prints a picture I would have loved to see ages ago; I spent the movie wondering if he was someone I missed in The Social Network.

Did you think I was being mean when I called Jeff “computer illiterate?” In his first scene, he admits being unable to work his car’s GPS, much to his editors’ (Betty Gilpin’s Kris & Gbenga Akinnagbe’s Andy) exasperation. When he meets Frances, he admits being a “tech reporter…ish.” White does a good job making him a likable dork, who’s also a surprisingly tenacious reporter. He and Frances are enjoyable together, whether on the case or discussing movies. Alone, Frances coming out of her shell is engaging, as is her confrontation with Morgan (Anna Lambe), who turns out to be a fellow whistleblower. 

Anyone else? There’s also Raya (Wunmi Mosaku), Facebook's crisis manager, who spends the movie coaching Zuckerberg's testimony. Billy Magnussen is Teddy Marks, Facebook's media relations executive and the closest, but not quite, to a heavy. Kris is enjoyably quirky, and she gets her best scene when she exercises her editorial authority. Its most enjoyable supporting characters are Zach & Evelyn (Aidan Laprete & Kelly Pereira), Jeff’s computer-savvy interns. In many ways, their contributions cannot be understated.

Don't expect an instant classic with The Social Reckoning, and you'll be fine. There's plenty of engagement with White and Madison's performances, but not enough to like and reshare en masse. At most, I can comment that it's a "respectable enough movie." See it if you want; it's fine if you like it better than I did. I've got a packed weekend to get to...

...And send...

Boorman and the Devil

Boorman and the Devil premiered last year at the Venice International Film Festival last year, then debuted theatrically just this August and on home media in September. I was going to watch it on Amazon, but then I found it for free on Xfinity via TCM. That was lucky.

When The Exorcist debuted in 1973, its unprecedented success got everyone excited for a sequel. Everybody, that is, except for the folks who made the first one. The Bills - director Friedkin and author Blatty - weren’t up for it, and neither was Ellen Burstyn (Chris McNeil). Linda Blair (Regan) wasn’t excited, though she came aboard with stipulations. Now for the director …

John Boorman, who refused and detested the first film, was interested in William Goodhart’s intellectual screenplay (based on the writings of Pierre Teilhard). Boorman and his Creative Associate, Rospo Pallenberg were especially interested in making the first film’s “riposte.” Eventually, a whole bunch of stuff happened, and when the final product, Exorcist II: The Heretic, was finally released in June of 1977, everyone practically hated it. David Kittredge tells us all about it here.

What kind of anecdotes can you expect? Well, you can learn about how hard it was to work with Richard Burton (Father Lamont), whether at table reads or on set. Blair’s own problems aren’t alluded to here, other than her own tardiness. One crew member tells us how he helped maintain the hundreds of locusts used on-screen. You’ll also learn about Pallenberg’s contributions, like gender-swapping Dr. Gene Tuskin for Louise Fletcher (who is prominently posthumously featured), and reworking the ending when Boorman contracted valley fever. You’ll even learn about blind bidding, a process that The Heretic’s failure helped outlaw. These stories are illustrated with some neat graphics, some of which resemble storyboards.

It even elaborates on a famous anecdote. In 2013, Friedkin told an audience at the Chicago Film Critics Festival of how an angry audience chased a few Warner guys out of The Heretic’s first test screening ten minutes in. Chris Landers, who attended the screening as a boy, tells us that it was his slightly older friend, Dave, who pointed out the guys. It’s not only a fascinating revelation, but it makes it all the funnier (I’m sure no one was hurt). It’s also interesting, since going by the film, the scene where they lost it was sixteen minutes in. Anyway, incidents like that forced Boorman to rush out a re-cut, which didn’t help much.

What else can we learn about it? It mostly stuck to the Warner Bros backlot when its international shoot proved unfeasible. It’s fascinating to see how cinematographer William A. Fraker, who was Oscar-nominated that year for Looking for Mr. Goodbar and shortlisted for this one, matched the stage lighting with whatever they got on location. It’s equally interesting to see how the filmmakers pulled off their in-camera effects, including its mirror flashbacks. You’ll be impressed, and shaken, with how they filmed Regan nearly sleepwalking off a building - Warner’s New York offices! Boorman advises future filmmakers to “find a better job,” but I think they can learn a lot from The Heretic.

Ultimately, it functions as a good retrospective on Boorman’s career. Whether it’s his directorial debut - the Dave Clark Five vehicle Catch Us If You Can - or the bonkers Zardoz and yes, The Heretic, all of his films look visually stunning - some more than others. His reminiscences about his second film, Point Blank, are vitally educational for movie color design. You’ll see clips of them all throughout this documentary’s 112-minutes. The Heretic’s failure demoralized him and nearly obliterated his career, and he still has mixed feelings about it. Still, it’s heartening to know that he regained his standing with his next film, Excalibur, and mostly never lost it.

At the end, its talking heads can’t come to a consensus about The Heretic. An admirable effort for some, a dud for others, and a masterpiece for more. Boorman and the Devil invites you to come to your own conclusion. As for mine, I think it does a good job portraying The Heretic as fascinating a failure as David Lynch’s Dune. I’d rather watch The Heretic’s unintentional comedy than Believer ever again. You may disagree, but Boorman provides some vital context for The Heretic's shortcomings. Watch it and learn, that's what I think.

Digger

 Mr. Burns, a Post-Electric Play uses The Simpsons episode Cape Feare to show us how stories evolve over time, particularly in a post-apocalyptic world. Boots Riley (I Love Boosters) recently announced that he’s bringing it to the screen. Meanwhile, you can catch its closest thematic cousin, Alejandro G. Innaritu’s Digger, in theatres now.

Or, not. I've seen the numbers ...

Digger Rockwell (Tom Cruise) is the biggest oil man around. A methane leak at his Greenland field eventually causes a huge iceberg to break off. Unless somebody does something, the iceberg will slam into Norway and flood Europe with the resulting tidal waves. Digger, the ailing President Compson (John Goodman) and their advisors get to work futzing around. They consider some solutions, like blowing it up or praying on it melting, but they don’t work.

What I just described were scenes from Fossil Fools, a stage play that dramatizes Digger and co.’s incompetence. As the show rehearses its 25th anniversary performance, Curtis Markson, who’s playing Digger, has a lot on his mind. He argues with Hannah (Sophie Wilde), the director, over their interpretation of Digger. His daughter, Hope (Flora Higgins), has seemingly disappeared into a commonplace super hurricane. And did I mention the state of the world? The show must go on, somehow.

(And now you know why I brought up Mr. Burns.)

There’s no denying that Cruise goes all out as Digger Rockwell. He’s got a silly accent, some bouts of over-acting with bombastic speeches, and a dynamic makeup job supervised by Kazu Hiro. Thank goodness Fossil Fools gives his performance context; otherwise, it’s just there. I didn’t hate him, as others have, but I wasn’t laughing like crazy. The only time I kind of pitied him was when he spreads the ashes of his cat, Maggie, across the sea. Curtis Markson, on the other hand, is a much more compelling character with everything he’s facing. His story, at least, ends with something resembling hope (ha ha).

Did I find anything funny? The first thing I found funny was Dr. Nirav Ganesh (Riz Ahmed), Diggers’ top scientist, being drunk. Granted, he’s drowning his sorrows over the impending doomsday, but Ahmed’s clearly having fun here. Ganesh, as an aside, is the one who advocated hoping for the ice to melt, but he’s also one of the few truly likable characters in Fossil Fools. Goodman’s President Compson is a bombastic idiot, but even he gets points for shutting up his obnoxious Reverend (Stephen Wight). It also leads to the optimistic revelation that the famed “nuclear football” is a series of codes that some people have to, but might not want to, read.

Who else do we have in the cast? There’s Kenny (Jesse Plemmons), Digger’s nephew and the producer of Fossil Fools, who’s interesting in his moral ambiguities. His mother, Emma (Sandra Huller), is just there in Fossil Fools to yell at Digger. His assistant, Lina (Emma D’Arcy), gets even less to do. Danny Kirrane, whose Clarkson tries to warn Digger about the ice, makes the most of his limited screentime. Gen. Fitzgerald (Robert John Burke), Compson’s Military Chief of Staff, is practically Dr. Strangelove’s Buck Turgidson, but not as amusing. Compson’s Vice President Eddie (Michael Stuhlbarg) is just fine, I guess.

I’m a lot more positive on its technical style, though. Emmanuel Lubezki’s desaturated cinematography is just as appealing as the usual Wes Anderson film. He also provides some interesting oners, including the final shot, as well as some magnificent skies. Richard Johnson & Dennis Gassner’s gigantic production design, for both real and play worlds, is simply splendorous. A few choice locales include Digger’s mansion, the European parliament, and the actual theater itself. Amongst the in-universe visual effects, the most interesting is the mammoth rear projection system. The animatronic Maggie, ambient sounds and score by Cosmo Sheldrake, are all unsettling by design. They do their job too good at times.

Yes, I spoiled Digger’s big metafictional twist, but it shows up relatively early on. As I said before, it gives a lot of context to its 129-minutes of craziness. Some may see it as a self-important satire of satires, but there’s a good point about the power of escapism in there, too. As bleak as it is, it’s a bit more optimistic and tolerable than Don’t Look Up. You'll have a lot to think about if you check out this odd movie. As for me, I still have several more reviews to go this month. I've said enough about this one.

Primetime

Next week, the highly anticipated documentary You Can See Everything will make its theatrical debut. In the meantime, you can catch its co-director, Lance Oppenheim’s, narrative film debut Primetime. Here’s the scoop:

Chris Hansen (Robert Pattinson) is the host of Dateline NBC’s most popular segment, To Catch a Predator. Hansen, with the help of Xavier Von Erck (Matthew Maher) and his organization, Perverted-Justice, lures would-be offenders for an interview and their eventual arrest. They employ actors, such as Del Harvey (Phoebe Bridgers) and newcomer Dan Plum (Skyler Gisondo), to help lure them in.

The segment is so popular that Jeff Zucker (himself) moves it to primetime. Hansen decides to maximize his audience with a high-profile “white whale.” He and his team zero in on Murphy, Texas, where it seems they’ve found an offender of influence. The local police give them their support for what should be a watershed television moment…

…Luke Dittrich’s Equire article, which Ajon Singh adapted for the screenplay, gives us the result: Tonight on Dateline This Man Will Die.

Needless to say, this is a tough sit, which isn’t helped by cinematographer David Bolen’s work. He magnifies Hansen’s steel-eyed screen persona and erratic off-screen behavior with his analog-styled visuals and extreme close-ups. Hansen towers over many an offender, but is broken when one of them, a rabbi (Bob Ari), refuses to take it sitting. He starts cracking earlier when the National Enquirer snoops around his private life. Pattinson’s bits of overacting might have you wonder whether to laugh or squirm. But you’ll feel it when he quietly breaks down in the finale.

Casting directors Francine Maisler & Molly Rose, who both worked on Sinners, have assembled some shocking talent. Chances are that you won’t recognize Tony Revolori as the first offender; or Jonathan Lipnicki as the first offender Dan helps bust; or Anna Faris as Hansen’s wife Mary Joan. Creed Bratton, who played the same-named character on The Office, is creepy in his cameo as fan Jim Christian. Bill Heck’s short screen-time as Stone Phillips leaves a huge impression. And then, there’s the biggest casting surprise: Alex Winter, as the “white whale,” assistant district attorney Bill Conradt. This is the kind of ensemble the Casting Oscar was made to recognize, even by proxy.

While Hansen is at the film’s center, it equally revolves around “Decoy” Dan. He takes up the show to try to get his SAG card and gets more than he bargained for the second he walks on the set. His first segment is advertised with a comedic voice-over that’s just appalling in context (let’s just say you’ll want Hansen to show up immediately). Gisondo has a few great scenes; the first has him take up a moping Hansen’s job for one sting, while the other has him try to talk down Conradt.

Amongst the cast, we also have Merrit Wever as Hansen’s producer, Andie Bender, who almost considers leaving him for What Would You Do? She’s just as ambitious as Hansen but is more level-headed about it. Bokeem Woodbine, as Police Chief Cortland Gunn, provides another case of overacting when he discovers Conradt’s identity. And finally, there’s Eric Rahill, whose Troy provides some welcome comic relief.

What else can we talk about? You’ll almost feel bad for the offenders, from how they cower in Chris’s presence to the excessive police presence used on them (the offender that Dan interviews gets tased, despite being in crutches). Conradt is easily the most sympathetic of them, since he recognizes his moral shortcomings. Less sympathetic is a masked man who haunts Hansen’s nightmares; do you really want me to tell you the context? On the technical side, we have some exquisite work by editor Daniel Garber and composer Ari Balouzin. I’ve said enough.

This isn't a film for everyone. If you do decide to take a seat for Primetime, you'll be in for an unnerving yet captivating experience. If not, then perhaps I can interest you in a more appealing movie or two later this month. And believe me, this month is going to be packed. Onwards to the next review, I guess.