Michael Mann’s spectacular snapshot biography “Ferrari” has been one of the biggest surprises of the 2023 movie year. With its December 25th theatrical release fast approaching, NEON has released five new character posters highlighting several members from the film’s terrific ensemble. Included are stars Adam Driver and Penélope Cruz, along with Shailene Woodley, Patrick Dempsey, and Gabriel Leone. Check them out below and let me know what you think.
Read my full review of “Ferrari” HERE.
For me Yorgos Lanthimos is something like a taste I have yet to acquire. His latest, “Poor Things” won’t do much to change that. If anything it only reinforces my feelings towards a filmmaker with extraordinary talent, but whose cinematic self-obsessions often wring the meaning out of the movies he makes. Never before has that been more true than with “Poor Things”, yet another self-satisfying exercise where indulgence and excess masquerades as daring and subversive.
Working from a head-scratching screenplay by Tony McNamara, Lanthimos wastes no time plunging us deep into his bizarre world. It’s one that visually lets him stretch his creative self as far as he ever has. The early scenes are stunning, shot in crisply detailed black-and-white and full of wacky off-kilter imagery. Some of it is incredibly creative; some of it is downright funny (a bulldog with a goose’s head???). The production design is exquisite, shifting from Victorian elegance with a dash of steampunk to the more glaring artifice of elaborate studio stage creations. DP Robbie Ryan and production designers Shona Heath and James Price are the film’s biggest assets.
But as is too often the case, Lanthimos tends to get carried away. In “Poor Things” some of his visual flourishes have particular purposes specifically it terms of perspective. Others are done repeatedly for no discernible reason whatsoever. Lanthimos’ penchant for immoderation extends to his near gluttonous delight in pushing the envelope. Here we see an almost childlike preoccupation with body horror and gratuitous sex, most of which comes across as more attention-hungry and narcissistic.
Set in a time that mixes the past with the otherworldly, “Poor Things” spins a Frankensteinesque yarn. In London, a scar-faced mad scientist named Dr. Godwin Baxter (the always refreshing Willem Dafoe) secretly retrieves the dead body of a pregnant woman who committed suicide. In a rather macabre experiment (I’ll spare you the details), Godwin reanimates the corpse and names her Bella (Emma Stone). Bella’s toddler mind and adult body have yet to synchronize, but her intelligence is increasing at a rapid rate which leads to several of the film’s funnier absurdities.
In need of help Godwin hires one of his medical students, the meek and demure Max McCandles (Ramy Youssef) as his assistant. Max’s job is to observe and meticulously document Bella’s progress. It requires following her around with pencil and notepad, collecting data such as nutritional intake and growth of vocabulary. Max, a starstruck fan of Godwin, doesn’t fully understand Bella. He’s first told she has a brain injury but quickly learns the morbid truth.
With little explanation why, Max soon becomes infatuated with Bella, eventually making a pact with Godwin to marry her. There’s so much that could have been said here about the insidious nature of controlling men, both father figures and suitors. But Lanthimos is fine with alluding to it. Instead he’s much more interested in introducing Bella to sex. And its sex that immediately becomes a focal point for Lanthimos. It fuels much of his storytelling. And it both shapes and defines the film’s warped idea of freedom, agency, and empowerment.
This is best seen with the sudden appearance of a lawyer named Duncan Wedderburn (Mark Ruffalo). He’s a sniveling lecherous cad who pops up and then two scenes later is whisking Bella away on a debauchery-filled trip around the world. It’s here that the story’s intents are both clarified and undermined. What’s meant to be a coming-of-age tale of liberation and self-discovery is more of a shallow impression of womanhood marked by the director’s obsession with his own batty and bawdy style. So much so that it prompted a woman who watched with me to deem it “insulting“.
Though being touted as bold and courageous, Stone’s scenes of pure brilliance (and there are several) are diminished by Lanthimos who too often turns her into sexual fodder for his camera. There are countless scenes where she’s made into little more than a spectacle for the male gaze – scenes where she’s put into one graphic sexual situation after another, all in the misleading name of freedom and discovery. Lanthimos gets so caught up in leering at Stone that he sabotages the messages he’s trying to promote.
There are so many potent issues that “Poor Things” could have confronted. There’s so much that could have been said about misogyny, patriarchy, societal expectations, and the female experience. Instead it shallowly skims over such things, investing more into its director’s unbridled lust for shock and showmanship. Somewhere within this intemperate backfire are the pieces for a really good movie – one that doesn’t see female empowerment and liberation through such a narrow lens.
For a while it’s easy to get caught up in the visual artistry, the extravagant staging, and the smattering of good laughs. In many ways the film is a technical marvel, and some of the gags are laugh-out-loud hilarious. But once you see what’s underneath the silly and shiny veneer, the frustrating reality of what this could have been sets in. “Poor Things” hits select theaters December 8th.
Among the more exciting announcements regarding the 2023 movie year was that Michael Mann was returning to the director’s chair after over eight years away. The 80-year-old filmmaker, producer, and author has been behind some of my favorite movies including “Thief”, “The Last of the Mohicans”, “Heat”, “The Insider”, and “Collateral”. Now he’s back with a new film that’s significantly different from any of those highly-acclaimed gems.
As its name makes obvious, “Ferrari” is a biographical drama about Enzo Ferrari, the founder of the luxury sports car manufacturer that bears his name. The film is based on a 1991 biography by journalist Brock Yates. Mann and the late screenwriter Troy Kennedy Martin wisely narrow their focus to a certain turbulent time in Enzo’s life – one marked by unbridled ambition, dark secrets, and tragedy. It’s more of a snapshot bio than a cradle-to-grave account which ends up serving this particular story perfectly.
The film is set during an eventful three months in 1957. Ten years earlier, racer turned automaker Enzo Ferrari (played by a terrific Adam Driver) and his wife Laura (an equally great Penélope Cruz) launched their car business in post-World War II Italy. But sales of his high-end sports cars are down and the business it is under the threat of bankruptcy. Enzo needs to sell more cars, but to do so requires the help of outside investors.
But just as much of the story (if not more) revolves around Enzo and Laura’s crumbling relationship. We see that their once loving marriage has soured, even turning volatile following the devastating death of their son Dino only one year earlier. Both are still mourning. But they’ve drifted too far apart to be of any comfort to each other. Instead their loss only fuels the growing animosity between them.
To make matters worse, Enzo has a side dish, Lina (played by Shailene Woodley whose on-again, off-again accent is both puzzling and kinda funny). Enzo keeps his mistress comfortably tucked away in a country chateau with their young son and eventual Ferrari heir, Piero. Laura knows of her husband’s dalliances and has even come to accept them (though with growing animus). But Enzo has kept his second family hidden, that is until Laura gets a whiff of his secret life. Does she use the revelation as leverage or does she poor out her vengeance and crush him?
Enzo is a person of contradiction and complexity which Mann impressively uncoils through his business life as much as his personal life. Though things are secretly imploding at home, the public sees Enzo as a national treasure – “a jewel in the crowd of Italy”. He’s a celebrity magnate who makes world-renowned cars that many admire but few can afford. Yet it’s not notoriety or esteem that drives him. It’s racing, and that’s what he determines to use to save his namesake company.
Enzo puts together a crack team of drivers that includes Spaniard Alfonso de Portago (Gabriel Leone), Englishman Peter Collins (Jack O’Connell), and fellow Italian Piero Taruffi (Patrick Dempsey in a wily bit of casting). He enters them into the prestigious Mille Miglia, a treacherous 992-mile open-road endurance race across Italy. Win the Mille Miglia and he’s sure to gain the attention of potential investors.
That builds to the film’s exhilarating final act where Mann’s technical knowhow shines. The racing of the Mille Miglia is as beautiful as it is thrilling with Mann and DP Erik Messerschmidt masterfully incorporating weaving cameras, intense closeups, and gorgeous wide shots to capture a palpable sense of speed and danger. It’s a spectacular display of craftsmanship that will have you holding your breath in anticipation one minute and gasping in horror the next.
To no surprise Adam Driver gives a rich and charismatic turn that sheds a revealing light on a man of many layers. With his combed-back silver hair, finely tailored suits, and stylish black sunglasses, Driver brings gravitas to the part. But it’s the way he conveys what’s lingering just under the surface that makes the performance so compelling. And Penélope Cruz matches him scene for scene. Her Laura is a torrent of emotions, understandably hurt and rightly angry. But she’s also smart and savvy – characteristics that are often hidden under her pain but that eventually burst through in a big way.
Those familiar with the 1957 Mille Miglia race will have a good idea of where the movie goes. But beyond that Mann and Martin surprise us with a unexpectedly heartfelt finish that puts a bittersweet cap on what is largely a heady, well-written drama. Mann has been trying to make this film for over two decades and you can feel his passion. You can also see the creative freedom that allowed him to take an unconventional and at times bold look at such a complicated and fascinating figure.
In the world of action cinema few have left a mark like John Woo. For 55 years the revered filmmaker has put together quite the résumé from his Hong Kong classics such as “The Killer” and “Hard Boiled” to his stateside hits like “Hard Target”, “Broken Arrow”, “Face/Off”, and “Mission: Impossible II”. Woo’s distinct style has been emulated by the likes of Quentin Tarantino, Robert Rodriguez, and Michael Bay. And his influence can be seen in everything from “The Matrix” to the John Wick films.
After a lengthy hiatus, the legendary 77-year-old auteur is back with “Silent Night”. It’s Woo’s first American feature film in twenty years but fans shouldn’t worry. His signature aesthetic is once again on bold display in this blistering action thriller shrewdly built around a mostly dialogue-free script. That’s quite a challenge, but screenwriter Robert Archer Lynn has crafted a smart and sturdy framework. From there, Woo handles the rest, delivering on everything you would expect from a film with his name stamped on it.
The movie is led by a perfectly cast Joel Kinnaman who can effortlessly emit intensity like few others. He plays Brian Godlock and Woo wastes no time revealing the tragedy that will drive his damaged protagonist throughout the story. Within the opening few minutes Brian and his wife Saya (an excellent Catalina Sandino Moreno) have their happy lives suddenly and irreparably shattered.
On Christmas Eve while playing with their young son Taylor in their front yard, a stray bullet from a gunfight between two warring street gangs hits Taylor and kills him. An enraged Brian chases the thugs down only to be shot in the throat and left for dead by their vicious leader (Harold Torres). Brian survives and eventually recovers physically, but he can no longer speak. On top of that, once home from the hospital he’s forced to face the painful reality that his beloved son is gone.
First Brian goes into mourning, cutting himself off from his wife while attempting to drown his sorrow in booze. But when that doesn’t work his sadness turns into rage, sending him on a bullet-riddled and blood-drenched quest for revenge. Brian decides to hunt down and kill the gangbangers responsible for his boy’s death. He gives himself nearly a year to plan, prepare and train, marking Christmas Eve as the day he will avenge the killing of his son.
As with so many of his past films, Woo puts a lot of effort into setting up the big action. Pacing has always been key to his approach and here Woo steadily ratchets up our anticipation, building towards the story’s inevitable ultra-violent crescendo. From there it’s vintage Woo as our silent protagonist unleashes his pain through a number of fierce and kinetic set pieces. They include wild car chases, brutal fight scenes, and incredibly choreographed shootouts that are almost operatic in their design.
As you watch these spectacular scenes play out, Woo’s trademark style can be seen everywhere. From techniques such as his frequent use of slow-motion and shooting single scenes from multiple angles, to staples such as duel-wielding handguns, Mexican standoffs, and his symbolic use of birds. Once it kicks into gear the action is non-stop. It’s brutality is matched by its artistry. Yet it’s undergirded by a surprising amount of heart and humanity.
While’s Woo’s craftsmanship is clearly a draw, Kinnaman proves to be an essential ingredient. His ability to channel pain and vulnerability adds pathos while his physicality combined with a palpable fury energizes the action. And amazingly it’s all conveyed with no dialogue whatsoever. Moreno is great in her small but meaningful role, and an underused Scott “Kid Cudi” Mescudi is solid (with what little he’s given) as a local police detective. But Kinnaman is the force who bring’s Woo’s vision to life.
“Silent Night” advertises itself as an alternative holiday movie of sorts with its witty title and killer trailer that utilized all kinds of Christmas motifs. But deep down it’s a visceral no-nonsense revenge thriller with a clever twist made by a filmmaker who once helped revolutionize a genre. “Silent Night” may not have the kind of landscape altering impact of Woo’s more celebrated films, but it’s a firm (and thoroughly entertaining) reminder of why he is rightly lauded as a legend of action cinema.
The ever magnetic Mads Mikkelsen delivers yet another awards worthy turn in “The Promised Land”, a Danish historical drama based on Ida Jessen’s book “The Captain and Ann Barbara”. Directed and co-written by Nikolaj Arcel, “The Promised Land” is the kind of sweeping period epic that doesn’t come around much these days. There’s a classical form to its storytelling yet its sturdy framework allows Arcel to push a few boundaries.
Arcel and his co-writer Anders Thomas Jensen set their story in 18th century Denmark where a proud war veteran, Captain Ludvig Kahlen (Mikkelsen) has returned home after 25 years of military service which included fighting in the Silesian Wars. Ludvig is a patriotic yet ambitious man whose love for country is only outdone by his desire to be recognized by it. Though left to live in a crowded poorhouse for vets, his desire is to gain the attention of the king and be granted status among the society’s elite. And he has a plan to do it.
In order to get things rolling Ludvig will need to do some persuading. He presents his plan to the king’s royal cabinet and seeks their permission to establish a colony in the treacherous heath of Jutland. It’s a vast and forbidding part of the country noted for the brutal elements, barren soil, and violent outlaws who terrorize those who dare venture into it.
Though considered untamable, Ludvig is convinced he can earn the favor of his king by building the first heath settlement. He even agrees to finance it with his meager captain’s pension. All he wants in return is “a noble title, along with an estate manor and servants.” The rulers agree (for their own self-serving reasons) and soon Ludvig is setting out to stake his claim.
After finding a patch of land, Ludvig goes looking for workers to help him get up and running. But finding laborers willing to risk the heath is no easy task. Among the few he gathers is a young couple, Johannes (Morten Hee Andersen) and his wife Ann Barbara (Amanda Collin) who we learn have been on the run from a cruel land baron. They’ve remained hidden thanks to a good-hearted young priest named Anton (Gustav Lindh) and now head out into the wild with Ludvig.
The ragtag group’s presence in the heath catches the attention of Frederik De Schinkel (Simon Bennebjerg), a rich and merciless nobleman who has declared the land his own. De Schinkel first tries intimidation and later coercion. But the steadfast Ludvig stands his ground. “It’s the king’s land. I work for the king.” This sets in motion the film’s fierce central conflict that quickly intensifies from posturing to all-out brutality.
From the very outset Arcel captures time and setting with impressive period detail. But it’s once we’re thrust into the heath that the film’s visuals are magnified. The harshness of the land is exquisitely realized through DP Rasmus Videbæk’s camera. But he also captures beauty in the stark rugged landscapes. Even more, Arcel and Videbæk often use the camera to paint striking visual contrasts between Ludvig’s arduous life on the heath and De Schinkel’s lavish excesses. Much like Ludvig’s lofty dreams of privilege juxtaposed with his much different reality.
Among the most compelling aspects of the story is Ludvig’s early delusions of grandeur. Despite the meagerness of his accommodations, Ludvig is stern and demanding, as if he’s living a life of nobility in his mind. He insists that his food be served a certain way and cooked to his strict specifications. He even names his new homestead King’s House, obviously named out of his loyalty to his king but perhaps also a reflection of his own blind ambition.
But reality can be a sobering thing. For Ludvig it comes at the hands of the very elites he has longed to be a part of. There’s also the addition of an abandoned child named Anmai Mus (Melina Hagberg) who adds some unexpected emotional layers to the story. Through it all Mikkelsen maintains a captivating presence. No one does steely and stoic like the 58-year-old Dane. And few can say as much through an ice cold, granite-hard stare. Arcel knows what he has in his star and uses him as an anchor for what is one of the year’s best films.
I admit, it brings my heart joy that at 85 years old the great Ridley Scott is still making movies. And not just run-of-the-mill movies, but big, sweeping, and ambitious movies. He’s the filmmaker behind such memorable favorites as “Alien”, “Blade Runner”, “Gladiator”, “Black Hawk Down”, and “The Martian”. And that’s only a sample size from what is a stellar 46-year filmography.
“Napoleon” sees the prominent director working comfortably inside his wheelhouse. It’s a massive historical epic that tells the story of the eponymous French emperor through Scott’s uniquely cinematic lens. He hits on handpicked high and low points in Napoleon’s life as a brilliant military strategist, an overly zealous ruler, and an insecure husband to Empress Josephine. It’s a crazy mixture of psychological study and made-for-the-big-screen spectacle. Best of all it sees Scott tossing the conventional biopic formula to the wind. The results are a little messy. But so was Napoleon.
Scott’s approach to telling Napoleon’s story is a lot like reading CliffsNotes. It gives you a general idea but it’s far from the full picture. It’s an approach that works in several ways, but that also gives rise to what becomes the movie’s biggest problem. Scott and screenwriter David Scarpa rapidly hop from one historical point to the next, bypassing important information needed to make the scenes feel connected. So we end up with a movie of loosely tethered vignettes.
This becomes more of a problem as the film progresses. I found myself routinely questioning how we got from there to here, what brought this situation on, where did that person go, etc. Major events such as Napoleon’s rise to emperor, his exile to Elba, and Josephine’s final days are mere blips and get no buildup and very little explanation. Meanwhile the many supporting characters have a hard time registering because so little is shared about them. In most cases we have no idea who they are outside of having their name stamped on the screen when they first appear.
In what may be a hurdle for some, “Napoleon” is marked by some wild shifts in tone. But Scott knows what he’s doing. He strategically uses them as a means to both elevate and mock his notorious subject. It results of some scenes of unbridled intensity while others are laced with jolts of unexpected humor. It gives the movie a quirkiness that (in its own peculiar way) works very well.
And then you have the spectacular battle sequences – Ridley Scott’s bread and butter. To no surprise they are fierce, violent, and immaculately presented. Surprisingly we don’t get many of them. There’s the Siege of Toulon, the Battle of Austerlitz, and of course Waterloo. None of them get much of a buildup, but once Scott is on the battlefield he’s clearly in his comfort zone. What follows is extraordinary.
As for Napoleon himself, Joaquin Phoenix (mumbling aside) is a solid fit for showing off the strengths, weaknesses, and all-out eccentricities of the infamously complex ruler. Though several years older than Napoleon for the bulk of the movie, Phoenix proves to be the right guy for Scott’s portrayal which has no interest in empathy or glorification. Vanessa Kirby is equally good as the equally contradictory and ultimately tragic Josephine. So much so that we’re left wishing she had more screen time.
The lavish set designs, exquisite costuming, and the overall grand scale, added to the inherently fascinating story of Napoleon Bonaparte, makes Ridley Scott’s latest an automatically intriguing endeavor. But the movie demands (at the very least) a working knowledge of the brutish but passionate sovereign and his toxic yet intimate relationship with Josephine. Without it chances are high that “Napoleon” will leave you more confused rather enlightened. “Napoleon” is in theaters now.
Keith & the Movies 