Buzz Blog

Babylon ***
See feature review. Available Dec. 23 in theaters. (R)

I Wanna Dance With Somebody **
What more is there to say about the tedious sameness of American musical biopics that wasn’t mocked by Walk Hard 15 years ago yet continues to turn nearly all of them into endurance tests? This one tracks the life of Whitney Houston (Naomi Ackie) from 1983 New Jersey as a soloist for the church choir run by her mother, singer Cissy Houston (Tamara Tunie), through her rise to pop-music stardom, and into the darker days of her drug abuse and tumultuous marriage to Bobby Brown (Ashton Sanders). While this is an “authorized” story, it does delve into lesser-known, possibly-controversial topics like Whitney’s romance with best friend Robyn Crawford (Nafessa Williams), and the financial mismanagement by her father (Clarke Peters). But mostly this is a gruelingly by-the-numbers tale, including such greatest-hits scenes as “Music Industry Person Hears Our Protagonist and Immediately Recognizes Genius,” “Protagonist Hears Their Own Song on the Radio for the First Time,” and “Montage of Darker Days.” In the case of the latter, it’s a truly airbrushed portrait of the tortured artist; we see Whitney about to use drugs, or just having used drugs, but not once actually using drugs. Most annoyingly, there’s simply no attempt by screenwriter Anthony McCarten (Bohemian Rhapsody) to make Whitney into an actual character with a personality, as it does a better job of humanizing Arista records boss Clive Davis (Stanley Tucci). Ackie has almost nothing to work except re-creating iconic performances—and if all we want is the icon, we can always just listen to the music.  Available Dec. 23 in theaters. (PG-13)

Joyride **1/2
One fears the worst when one realizes that the protagonist of a movie called Joyride is a woman named Joy who is doing some riding—so it’s something of a relief this Ireland-set comedy-drama is considerably less insufferable than such a choice would suggest. It opens with 13-year-old Mully (Charlie Reid) carjacking a taxi while fleeing from his widowed dad James (Lochlann O’Mearáin) with cash James was about to steal from a cancer fundraiser to pay off gambling debts. And in that taxi, unexpectedly, is the aforementioned Joy (Olivia Colman), a solicitor looking to offload the baby she unexpectedly found herself with as a 40-something single woman with no desire to be a parent. The character dynamics in question aren’t exactly hard to figure out—a motherless boy on a road trip with a reluctant mother—and the script by Ailbhe Keogan keeps throwing in aggressively whimsical stuff like a bird that keeps appearing as a kind of guardian angel, or the recurring image of a giant fiberglass baby’s head. It only works at all because Olivia Colman is … well, Olivia Colman, bringing her talents to bear on a character on someone whose own mother issues have damaged her deeply. The interplay between Colman and Reid provides just enough charm, and it’s almost worth all the little annoyances sprinkled throughout when one scene allows Colman to let a certain realization come alive on her face. Available Dec. 23 in theaters. (R)

The Pale Blue Eye **1/2
Storytellers certainly don’t need to justify all of their choices to any given audience member, but writer/director Scott Cooper’s adaptation of Louis Bayard’s novel make me wonder why the source material involved this particular conglomeration of elements. Set at West Point during the winter of 1830, it follows an alcoholic ex-constable named Augustus Landor (Christian Bale) who’s called in to investigate the death of a cadet from an apparent suicide that it soon becomes clear was more likely a murder. As more complications in the case arrive—including the corpse’s heart being stolen—Landor looks for assistance, and finds it in another cadet currently enrolled in the academy: 21-year-old aspiring poet Edgar Allan Poe (Harry Melling). There are worse places to begin a story than discovering that bit of trivia about Poe and wondering how the morbidly melancholy writer would have fared in a military environment, and Melling does have plenty of fun with Poe’s florid speech, his courtship with a sickly young woman (Lucy Boynton) and delight in his own abilities as an amateur sleuth. It’s just a bit baffling seeing this character inserted into such a convoluted murder plot, which folds in occult ceremonies and whatever trauma is haunting Bale’s Landor. Cooper’s a stylish director, but whatever thematic notions he might believe connects all of The Pale Blue Eye’s pieces are lost in sluggish pacing and a realization that it might be more satisfying to watch a far simpler interpretation of The Young Edgar Allan Poe Chronicles. Available Dec. 23 in theaters; Jan. 6 via Netflix. (R)

Puss in Boots: The Last Wish ***
I know, I know: Who asked for a revival of a spin-off from Shrek, more than a decade after his last solo outing? But as it turns out, it’s quite a pleasant surprise in its combination of lively action and thoughtful reflection. Our dashing hero Puss in Boots (Antonio Banderas) finds himself at a crossroads when he realizes he’s on the last of his nine lives, and undertakes a quest for legendary fallen wishing star, competing with other would-be wishers like Goldilocks (Florence Pugh) and the greedy Jack Horner (John Mulaney). Salma Hayek’s Kitty Softpaws returns to team up with Puss, along with a needy dog (Harvey Guillén), creating the kind of makeshift family that makes for fun character interactions, de-emphasizing the kind of winking self-referential humor that so often made the Shrek films irritating. The fight sequences choreographed by directors Joel Crawford and Januel Mercado are also creatively wild, including one that takes great advantage of objects suddenly floating in mid-air. Mostly, it’s a surprisingly well-crafted contemplation of mortality, and what happens to our ability to experience our lives while we’re either worrying about their brevity, or hoping that there’s always something better ahead. It’s ultimately a bit over-plotted—the Goldilocks and the three bears sub-plot, while amusing, starts to feel like something that could sustain its own movie—but The Last Wish makes a solid case for Puss in Boots warranting this curtain call. Available Dec. 21 in theaters. (PG)

Roald Dahl’s Matilda the Musical ***
Full disclosure: It took a while for me to get past my arms-folded assumption that this interpretation couldn’t possibly make me forget Danny DeVito’s delightful 1995 adaptation of Roald Dahl’s book. Indeed, much more of Dahl’s acidic sensibility permeates this film version of the stage musical, about precocious young Matilda Wormwood (Alisha Weir) and her adventures at a school where she encounters both the caring teacher Miss Honey (Lashana Lynch) and cruel headmistress Agatha Trunchbull (Emma Thompson). As a musical, it’s not particularly terrific, with a couple of memorable tunes like “When I Grow Up” in composer Tim Minchin’s score but several that just kind of fill the necessary space. But it’s also quite entertaining, with director Matthew Warchus providing a live-performance energy while still taking advantage of some things that only a film version could do in the same way, like a fantasy sequence for Miss Trunchbull. The principal actors are all terrific, with Thompson’s Trunchbull somehow matching Pam Ferris’ iconic version from Matilda ’95 for grotesque villainy, Lynch conveying a lovely warmth, and young Weir giving Matilda a more convincing spark of youthful anger than the infinitely adorable Mara Wilson was able to manage. While it’s less sweet and fanciful than DeVito’s interpretation, this Matilda absolutely captures Dahl’s sensibility of getting inside a child’s sense of terror and confusion about the seemingly capricious adult world. I may not have left humming, but I left impressed, and with arms unfolded. Available Dec. 23 via Netflix. (PG)

The Whale **
I can only describe the feeling that came over me once it became clear early on that the title of The Whale would be used as a double-meaning—for both its obese central character Charlie (Brendan Fraser) and a recurring reference to Moby-Dick—as “oh nooooooo.” That’s the kind of ill-advised writerly flourish that comes to characterize screenwriter Samuel D. Hunter’s adaptation of his stage play, focusing on a week in the life of Charlie as his health deteriorates, and he becomes determined to reconnect with his estranged, troubled 17-year-old daughter, Ellie (Sadie Sink). Director Darren Aronofsky mostly eases back on the kind of bold visual style that has typically characterized his movies, allowing the focus to remain on Charlie’s isolated life in his apartment (emphasized by the use of tight academy ratio). Unfortunately, that approach only emphasizes the text’s theatrical roots, full of dramatic declaratory monologues and surprise revelations, which not even the perfectly solid performances—including Hong Chau as Charlie’s sometimes caretaker and Samantha Morton as his embittered ex-wife—can bring fully to life. It’s mostly frustrating to watch Charlie turned into a figure of almost otherworldly kindness and optimism, reducing the impact of Fraser’s performance since he starts to feel like a plus-sized variation on the “magical Negro” trope. Add some jumbled messaging about the ripple effects of religious homophobia, and you’ve got an earnest but overwrought tale that would have been better off picking one whale and sticking to it. Available Dec. 21 in theaters. (R)

Wildcat ***1/2
In some ways, this winner of the Utah Film Critics Association’s Best Documentary award for 2022 is exactly the kind of heart-warming “wounded human bonds with an animal” tale that the basic premise would suggest; in some ways, it’s considerably more complicated, and well-crafted. Filmmakers Trevor Frost and Melissa Lesh follow the story of Harry Turner, a British Army veteran whose struggles with depression and PTSD forced him out of the service and eventually led him to the Peruvian Amazon. There, after beginning a relationship with conservation researcher Samantha Zwicker, Harry connects with an orphaned ocelot kitten, and attempts to guide it towards eventual release back into the wild. That story takes some unexpected turns that makes Wildcat a bit of an emotional roller-coaster, with the ultimate fates of both animals and humans remaining uncertain. Mostly, however, it’s a thoughtful and clear-eyed look at the complexities of someone dealing with mental health challenges and suicidal ideation, one that’s respectful enough to give Samantha’s story equal time in showing the fine line between support and co-dependence, and the moments when taking care of oneself means recognizing the issues involved in trying to take care of someone else. It’s challenging stuff, certainly trigger-warning-worthy for those who deal with their own struggles, but surprisingly affecting not just at exploring this unique relationship between a man and a wild animal, but in refusing to oversimplify what such a relationship can and cannot cure. Available Dec. 21 in theaters; Dec. 30 via Amazon Prime Video. (R)