Buzz Blog

Fingernails **1/2
In 2020’s Apples, co-writer/director Christos Nikou offered a high-concept science-fiction premise—an epidemic of complete amnesia—with such a dry-humored approach that nearly all of the emotional potential of that premise was lost. And unfortunately, that seems to be a feature of his filmmaking, not a bug. In a vaguely near-future where a scientific test has been developed to determine whether or not a couple is in love, Anna (Jessie Buckley)—already in a “love positive” relationship with Ryan (Jeremy Allen White)—goes to work at an institute that preps people for these tests, and there becomes interested in her co-worker Amir (Riz Ahmed). Nikou and his co-writers do have some fun with the elaborate exercises designed for the couples, including adding a new meaning to “passing the sniff test,” and it’s clear that the story wants to wrestle with relationship dynamics that can be even more complicated when you actually are in love. But the script often turns that subtext into too-literal text, and eventually seems unclear as to whether it’s actually celebrating infatuation for its own sake. Mostly, despite Buckley’s best efforts at selling a lot of scenes predicated on longing looks, Fingernails feels more interested in its ideas abstractly and academically, rather than from a heartfelt perspective. Which, considering the nature of those ideas, winds up feeling pretty ironic. Available Nov. 3 via AppleTV+. (R)

The Marsh King’s Daughter **
Casting decisions can tell you a lot about the kind of movie people think they’re making—and it’s seems clear that the folks behind this adaptation of Karen Dionne’s 2018 novel thought they were making an action thriller, when they should have been making a psychological drama. It opens with 10-year-old Helena (The Florida Project’s Brooklynn Prince) living in an isolated cabin with her father Jacob (Ben Mendelsohn) and her mother (Caren Pistorius), only to discover that Jacob had abducted her mother before she was born; twenty years later, Helena (Daisy Ridley) is married with a daughter, and has to confront her buried past when Jacob escapes from prison. Director Neil Burger provides some nice touches that address young Helena’s shock at emerging into the modern world, and adult Helena’s attempts to hide her history from others. But structurally, the screenplay seems to prioritize the action beats, leaving little time for Helena and her husband (Garrett Hedlund) to confront the secrets in their relationship. And while Ridley does have a few nice scenes evoking Helena’s conflicted feelings over the parts of her childhood she remembers fondly, that internal battle is mostly left to a firm jaw and some gritty self-preservation. Mendelsohn too feels just a bit off, too focused on Jacob’s creepiness rather than the stuff that would have inspired Helena’s devotion. What’s left is something that’s sometimes effective viscerally, but too rarely effective emotionally. Available Nov. 3 in theaters. (R)

The Persian Version **
Sincere, deeply-felt and personal though this story may be, writer/director Maryam Keshavarz turns out something so over-written and fragmented that it just doesn’t come together as a movie. Leila (Layla Mohammadi), the Iranian-American daughter of immigrants, is estranged from her mother Shireen (Niousha Noor) less for her artistic aspirations as an aspiring filmmaker than for being queer. After a one-night stand with a man, Leila ends up pregnant, leading to an even more fervent desire to understand her own mother. Keshavarz launches the narrative clearly in the vein of a quirky comedy, full of direct address to the camera, bold on-screen titles for text messages and absurdist moments like Leila trying to avoid being seen by her ex by putting on a gorilla mask. But a large chunk of the third act is turned over to the experience of Shireen as a teenage wife (Kamand Shafieisabet) in 1960s Iran, with an accompanying shift in tone that’s considerably darker. And that’s following another, previous flashback to Shireen’s single-minded pursuit of becoming a realtor, and preceding an unresolved snippet of maybe-romantic-comedy involving Leila and her baby-daddy (Tom Byrne). As much as this is clearly an artistic attempt to forgive a mother for her conservative, judgmental ways, it’s just a mess as a narrative trying to cover too much ground. It feels like the kind of movie where the creator would justify it by saying “all of this happened,” to which the response might be, “but that doesn’t mean it all belongs in the same movie.” Available Nov. 3 in theaters. (R)

Priscilla ***
See feature review. Available Nov. 3 in theaters. (PG-13)

Quiz Lady ***
I love the idea that in a movie starring Awkwafina and Sandra Oh about two battling sisters, one grounded and the other flighty, we get the not-intuitive casting choice of Awkwafina as the former and Oh as the latter. Awkwafina’s Anne Yum is a deeply-introverted office drone obsessed since childhood with a Jeopardy-like trivia game show. When her mother flees the country leaving behind a huge gambling debt, sister Jenny (Oh) coaxes her into trying out for the show to win the necessary money. That’s a way-too-complicated premise (also involving a kidnapped dog and a viral video which seems to matter plot-wise for all of a few minutes) on which to balance this relationship, and the screenplay rushes through some of the stuff meant to build the relationship between Anne and Jenny, based on their dysfunctional upbringing. Fortunately, the two central performances are rock-solid—particularly Oh, playing the perpetual adolescent Jenny with gusto—and they get great support from Tony Hale (as a sporadically-authentic tourist inn Ben Franklin), Jason Schwartzman (as the game show’s smarmy returning champion) and Will Ferrell (as the show’s host, coming full-circle from his SNL version of Alex Trebek). Throw in a bunch of great throwaway bits, including a keen knowledge of Philadelphia sports fans, and you’ve got an engaging comedy built on stars willing to stretch themselves a little. Available Nov. 3 via Hulu. (R)

Radical **1/2
Among the hardest kinds of movies to evaluate are those that do exactly what they set out to do, and that thing is something that a hundred movies have set out to do previously, in exactly the same way. That’s the vibe for this fact-based drama set in Mexico circa 2012, where new teacher Sergio Juárez (Eugenio Derbez) arrives to teach sixth grade at José Urbina López primary school—one of the poorest-scoring schools in the country—with some crazy ideas about getting kids engaged with learning. Based on that concept alone, you might expect something that duplicates the formula of Dangerous Minds, Stand and Deliver, Lean on Me and so many more inspirational-teacher tales in which students left behind by the system get a shot at success. And you would be correct, with a structure that naturally involves entrenched colleagues who scoff at the rebel’s methods, parents who warn the teacher not to fill the kids’ heads with impossible dreams and so forth. Writer/director Christopher Zalla proves able to distract from the inevitabilities during his first act, where Derbez brings energy to the scenes of pulling his students into his lessons, and Daniel Haddad gives the role of the skeptical administrator a humane softness. But everything slips into a comfortable rut during the final hour, right up to the crowd-pleasing finale, as we bask in the irony of a story about breaking free from convention once again being so … conventional. Available Nov. 3 in theaters. (PG-13)

Rustin **1/2
Director George C. Wolfe’s 2020 film adaptation of August Wilson’s play Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom found a vitality that never felt stagebound; his biopic about civil-rights pioneer Bayard Rustin (Colman Domingo), unfortunately, feels more constrained by the traditions of its cinematic genre. The focus of the screenplay—by Julian Breece and Dustin Breece—narrows to Rustin’s role as primary organizer of the 1963 March on Washington, including his longtime friendship with Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. (Aml Ameen), and how his status as an openly gay man made him an easy target for those trying to discredit the civil-rights movement. Domingo’s performance is ferociously terrific, capturing the coiled anger of a man whose morality is constantly being questioned, even as he knows the pursuit of morally right action is the only thing he cares about, more than any potential romantic relationship. But even as the filmmakers stoke viewer outrage at the behavior not just of racist conservatives, but theoretical allies like Congressman Adam Clayton Powell (Jeffrey Wright), they can’t get past the sense that the narrative includes items on a list that require checking off: flashbacks to a formative experience of civil disobedience; an affair with a married, closeted minister (Johnny Ramey); concerns about the March’s all-male lineup of speakers. A great character counts for a lot, but it’s hard not to wish this one were part of something as dedicated to being a movie as being an encomium. Available Nov. 3 in theaters; Nov. 17 via Netflix. (PG-13)

Sly ***
Having the subject intimately involved in a biographical documentary can go one of two ways: unique insight, or compromised whitewashing. Director Thom Zimny’s profile of Sylvester Stallone leans more toward the former. Structurally, it’s fairly straightforward in its cradle-to-the-present day dynamics, framed by the idea of a transitional moment for Stallone has he prepares to move out of his California home. But unlike many such career retrospectives—understandably in this case focused on the significance of the Rocky franchise—this one finds a real central theme beyond a bunch of movie clips and archival photos. Stallone opens up about his contentious relationship with his abusive father Frank Sr., and recognizes how much of his career is built around the psychological fallout, from the need for public adoration as a replacement for parental affection, to his need to create movie heroes that offer hope of victory. Along the way, we do get some interesting anecdotes and insights about Stallone’s movies, including a great one about the original Rocky’s ice-rink date scene, sprinkled with a few interviews with folks like Stallone’s brother Frank Stallone Jr., Quentin Tarantino and film critic Wesley Morris. Mostly, though, it’s a chance for Stallone to reflect on 50 years of life in the spotlight, but more significantly, on the parts of his life that led him to seek out that spotlight in the first place. Available Nov. 3 via Netflix. (NR)

What Happens Later **1/2
Early in What Happens Later, Bill (David Duchovny) unplugs an electronic billboard for the generically-titled fake movie RomCom, which feels a bit like a thematic announcement by director/co-writer/co-star Meg Ryan: “This isn’t going to be the kind of movie with which you most associate me.” As it turns out, she wants to indulge in some of the trappings of romantic comedy without being concerned about the payoff. Her setup—adapted from a two-hander stage play by Steven Dietz—strands Bill in a small regional airport with Willa (Ryan) during a snowstorm, 25 years after they were in a serious romantic relationship, and with baggage still left to unpack. Ryan and Duchovny actually have a terrific chemistry, which goes a long way towards establishing the complicated history between them as they catch up on where their respective lives have gone askew. Tonally, much of that material feels melancholy and reflective, which makes it somewhat jarring every time Ryan engages in cutesy affectations: the protagonists’ improbably shared last name, whereby they call one another “W. Davis;” an omniscient airport announcement voice guiding them along; dancing through the empty terminal to The Lightning Seeds’ “Pure.” Ryan ends the movie with a dedication “For Nora” (presumably Nora Ephron), but Ephron’s romantic comedies committed to the genre, instead of taking a dramatic tale of regret and reconciliation and sprinkling it with fairy dust. Available Nov. 3 in theaters. (R)