REVIEW: “A Hidden Life” (2019)

December 16, 2019 by Keith Garlington

It’s probably safe to say that Terrence Malick is an acquired taste. Many sing the praises of his eloquent visuals and deeply meditative style of filmmaking. Yet I know others who find his films to be boring, overly long, and essentially plotless. While the boring part is up for debate, it’s kinda hard for even the most ardent Malick apologists to argue against the other two points.

At the same time those are some of the Malickian trademarks I love most. With the exception of his last two feature films, I tend to enjoy Malick’s lengthy, extensive meditations. Sure, there are times when you would like to see him surrender more control to his editor. But when he’s hitting his marks I find his work to be breathtaking. And even though plot is hardly his focus, he has such command of his own unique visual language that it’s easy for me to get lost in the artistry.

His latest film “A Hidden Life” is certainly lengthy, clocking in at a hefty three hours. But it does see Malick going a slightly different route by following a more structured narrative. The film is still filled with his signature contemplative voice-overs and captivating gazes across divine landscapes. But it also sees him focused on telling a more traditional story, one of righteousness versus evil, which is served by all of the distinct flourishes we have come to expect.

“A Hidden Life” tells the true story of Franz Jägerstätter, a conscientious objector who refused to fight for Nazi Germany or pledge his loyalty to Hitler. Inspiration was taken from a collection of Jägerstätter’s letters to his wife from prison compiled and edited by theologian Erna Putz. In the process of telling this profoundly moving story of quiet resistance, Malick delivers his most deeply spiritual exploration since “The Tree of Life”. And through this cinematic journey he begs us, not just to see, but to feel the love, fear, pain and longing through this central couple.

Franz is played by August Diehl whose tender minimalism gives us clear insight into his character’s soul. Everything is well when we first meet Franz. He lives with his wife Fani (Valerie Pachner) and their three daughters in the small village of Radegund cozily nestled in an Alpine valley in northern Austria. It’s a hard-working life but one filled with beauty, love, and contentment. Malick’s opening act is exquisite, full of warmth and images which remind us that no other filmmaker’s camera is as in tune with the majesty of nature as his. But the imagery is not without purpose. It’s meant to help convey the idea of serenity and happiness. “We lived above the clouds,” Fani recalls.

One afternoon their halcyon existence changes when Fani hears the distant hum of plane engines over their valley. War has come and brought with it fear and uncertainty. Franz willingly accepts the call for a brief stint of military training, but he quickly begins questioning what he sees as an unjust war. “What has happened to our country?” he asks Fani in one of the many letters Malick will incorporate into his film for the rest of the way.

Franz returns to the valley carrying the weight of his convictions. How could he fight in a war built around unspeakable evil yet call himself a servant of Christ? What should he do if draft papers come his way? How will standing up for his beliefs effect those whom he loves? The joy that once filled his heart gives way to worry, uncertainty, and inner-conflict. Many of the villagers turns against him and his family branding them traitors. Franz seeks counsel from the church but is told by the bishop (compromised by his own fear) “You have a duty to the fatherland. The church tells you so.”

As a literal and metaphorical storm brews in the distance it becomes clear that bad news is on the way. Franz is called to active duty and ordered to report to the Wehrmacht garrison in Enns. But after refusing to take the Hitler oath he is immediately thrown into prison. Fani, back home tending to the farm and taking care of their daughters, is notified of Franz’s arrest and through a series of letters the two begin dealing with their circumstances. It’s here that Malick captures an even deeper expression of their faith and love for one another.

Malick’s sweeping impressionistic gaze does more than just capture stunning scenery. It’s true he and cinematographer Jörg Widmer swoon over snow-capped mountains, cascading waterfalls, and lush green valleys. But here it’s more than simple musings on nature. Early on the scenes help convey love, peace, and happiness. But later with Franz in prison and Fani laboring in the fields, the scenery (though still exquisite) looms in the background like a haunting memory. Again, unlike some of his recent films, Malick uses his intensely visual approach (along with James Newton Howard’s elegant and gentle score) to feed the narrative and bring life and depth to his characters.

“A Hidden Life” is a Terrence Malick movie through and through. Stirring and meditative, intimate and challenging. But here he is guided by one man’s inspirational journey. Malick gives us a three-dimensional portrait of a rare type of hero, told through a true story of faith, family, and the unquenchable human spirit in the face of tremendous persecution. Malick’s storytelling methodology may still be an issue for those with little patience. But I was spellbound from the very start and found this to be one of the most soul-stirring movie experiences of the year.

VERDICT – 5 STARS

REVIEW: “Bombshell”

December 13, 2019 by Keith Garlington

The story of the women from Fox News who stood up to and took down powerful CEO Roger Ailes is one worthy to be told. These women not only exposed Ailes’ abusive conduct towards them, but they also put a spotlight on workplace sexual harassment particularly in the world of television media. And if there is one thing we’ve learned since it’s that this industry-wide problem needed to be uncovered.

“Bombshell” (one of the most overused words in America’s current political landscape) sets out to tell the story of three woman (two real and one fictional) and their roles in bringing down Ailes. They are prime-time anchor Megyn Kelly (Charlize Theron), morning show host Gretchen Carlson (Nicole Kidman), and young producer/aspiring anchor Kayla Pospisil (Margot Robbie).

Ever since seeing the first full trailer I’ve had a lingering question: Was this going to be an empowering expose on sexual harassment or a Fox News hit-piece? “Bombshell” ends up somewhere in the middle which is frustrating. Too much time is wasted on frivolous pop-shots with no bite whatsoever. Take the seemingly endless parade of impersonations. Sean Hannity, Bill O’Reilly, Geraldo Rivera, Neil Cavuto, the list goes on and on. It results in these constant cartoonish diversions from what should be the real focus of the story.

This gets to my biggest beef: the movie is too interested in superfluous things to really dig below its rather familiar surface. It seems content to simply touch on the things we already know instead of pulling back the curtain to reveal something new and insightful. It’s a shame because the inspirational story of women rising up against a corporate media powerhouse like Ailes deserves more than a few strokes from a broad brush.

Despite being the catalyst for the case against Ailes, we get to a point where Kidman’s Gretchen Carlson is more or less tossed to the back burner. Instead the film mostly focuses on Megyn Kelly as she wrestles with stepping out and giving some big-named support to Carlson’s claims. It’s uncanny how much Theron looks the part but her voice-work is a little more inconsistent. Sometimes you think it’s actually Kelly speaking while other times Theron sounds like she’s doing an impression with a head cold.

A lot of time is also spent with Margot Robbie’s Kayla, a fictional/composite character who could best be described as a naive, sexually confused, Christian conservative (how’s that for covering all of your bases) who has long dreamed of working at Fox News. She becomes buddies with Kate McKinnon’s Jess, another fictional addition who has a deep, dark secret: she’s a closet Hillary Clinton supporter. Okay, so she actually has a bigger secret but it feels completely tacked-on and it’s used in the shallowest of ways.

Of course everyone answers to Roger Ailes who basically pulls all the strings and has a direct line to every control room in the building. He’s played by an entertaining John Lithgow who is full of bile and bluster. But for the most part he’s a fairly one-note character with teases of complexity but not much more. It’s another side effect of the movie’s compulsion to put its focus elsewhere instead of digging into its key characters.

The scattershot script is from Charles Randolph who co-wrote “The Big Short”. Here he and director Jay Roach recycle a lot of the visual pomp and style from that film and others like it: snappy narration, breaking the fourth wall, and so on. It’s an approach that simply doesn’t feel fresh anymore and it makes it even tougher to take the film seriously. Sometimes a movie is better off without all of the extra flash. Especially with a subject like this that deserves the extra attention.

Instead we get 15 to 20 minutes on Donald Trump and his Twitter squabble with Kelly during the 2016 presidential primaries. We get a one-dimensional, undercooked fictional character who is given considerably more time than the woman who actually jump-started the whole thing. And of course there is the steady procession of performers appearing as Fox personalities whether they have anything meaningful to offer the story or not.

So we end up with a frustrating movie that certainly sees itself as empowering while at the same time giving the real women who fought this fight the surface-level treatment. Would a female writer/director team have served this story better? Possibly. Maybe they would have spent more time digging into the real story and more importantly exploring the women who made the story so important and worth telling.

VERDICT – 2 STARS

REVIEW: “Little Women” (2019)

December 12, 2019 by Keith Garlington

Louisa May Alcott’s original two-volume classic “Little Women” has been adapted multiple times for stage and television as a drama, a musical, and even an animated series. When it comes to the big screen the story of the four March sisters has been adapted a total of eight times over the last 100 years starting with a 1917 silent version all the way to Greta Gerwig’s 2019 refresh.

Gerwig writes and directs this coming-of-age family drama that has all the energy, personality and period appeal you would expect from Alcott’s story. She fills her movie with an absolutely stellar cast while also working with some fabulous talent behind the camera. French cinematographer Yorick Le Saux, production designer Jess Gonchor, the brilliant composer Alexandre Desplat, and Oscar-winning costume designer Jacqueline Durran all work with Gerwig to create a vibrant, lived-in 1860’s New England.

As lovers of the story know, the film follows the March sisters growing up outside of Concord, Massachusetts. Jo (Saoirse Ronan) is the principle character, a fiery free-spirit known for her stubbornness. Meg (Emma Watson) is the oldest and most level-headed sister. Amy (Florence Pugh) is an immensely talented painter, brutally honest and bratty but with a pinch of humor. Beth (Eliza Scanlen) is gentle, unassuming and a remarkably good piano player.

The relationships between the sisters are spirited, playful, sometimes competitive but always loving. Gerwig nicely taps into each girl’s unique individuality, highlighting their strengths and flaws. Most importantly none of the girls ever get lost in the shuffle or feel shortchanged. Gerwig’s affection for Alcott’s novel and more importantly these characters is clearly seen in ever frame. And while Jo may be the film’s lead, Gerwig treats all the sisters as equals.

It helps to have such sparkling chemistry between actresses. Ronan (so good in Gerwig’s previous film “Lady Bird”) leads the way, capturing every ounce of Jo’s blazing independence and creative ambition. She’s a veritable whirlwind of attitude, determination, and feminine grit. Watson gets her best role in years and Scanlen exudes earnestness with every tender glance. But it’s Pugh who could be the standout. Her management of Amy’s many layers is superb and she clearly understands her character who goes from vindictive snoot to a sure-footed pragmatist who understands what it means to be a woman in 1860’s America. Pugh is nothing short of brilliant.

And I have to mention the supporting cast who fill out Gerwig’s world yet never feel like filler. Most obvious is Timothée Chalamet who plays Laurie, the wealthy boy next door who becomes a fixture among the March girls. He’s charming but impulsive and often flies by the seat of his pants. Laura Dern is fabulous as the girl’s saintly mother Marmee and Meryl Streep pops up as their sickly looking curmudgeon of an aunt. And a muttonchopped Tracy Letts is a hoot playing a patronizing publisher who epitomizes the era’s archaic societal rules for women. At one point he tells Jo to make her stories “short and spicy. And if the main character is a girl make sure she’s married by the end.”

Throughout “Little Women” we see numerous touches that highlights the modern day relevance of the story. Alcott’s book always had a forward-thinking bend and you can tell it left an impression on Gerwig. The biggest divergence from the book is in the non-linear storytelling. Gerwig’s script bounces between two timelines set seven years apart. One of my lone complaints is that picking up on the time jumps can be a challenge at least until you get in sync with it. But it does allow Gerwig to do some really interesting things with the narrative such as shifting emphasis and shedding new lights on certain characters.

As a “Little Women” novice I can’t speak to how Greta Gerwig’s version measures up to other adaptations. I can’t pick out every difference from Alcott’s classic. But I do know this is a truly great movie filled with an effervescent female spirit that celebrates the joy of family and the unbreakable bond of sisterhood. Gerwig directs with such vision and confidence and her script takes an all-time classic story and makes it feel fresh and new. The film also features a magnificent ensemble cast. Put it all together and you have one of the true delights of 2019.

VERDICT – 4.5 STARS

First Glance: “Wonder Woman 1984”

December 11, 2019 by Keith Garlington

Oh how my house has been buzzing since the new trailer for “Wonder Woman 1984” trailer dropped over the weekend. Director Patty Jenkins and star Gal Gadot gave a much needed feminine jolt to the superhero genre with 2017’s fantastic “Wonder Woman”. I absolutely loved the movie, but my wife and daughter REALLY loved it.

With its catchy “WW84” moniker and Gadot once again leading the charge, this stylish and energetic first look has me really excited. It’s set (obviously) in 1984 which puts Diana right in the middle of the Cold War. But the trailer doesn’t focus on that. Instead it’s funky and playful in a way I wasn’t expecting. I don’t quite know what to make of it but I know I like it. And it has definitely left me wanting to see more.

“Wonder Woman 1984” hits theaters June 5, 2020. Check out the trailer below and let me know if you will be seeing it or taking a pass.

Bergman 101: “The Silence” (1963)

December 11, 2019 by Keith Garlington

The second film in Ingmar Bergman’s inadvertent Trilogy of Faith is to me the most disconnected of the three. I’ve read far smarter film critics than me share their idea on how “The Silence” ties together with the earlier “Through a Glass Darkly” and “Winter Light”. Still I’ve yet to make a satisfying connection and find that this particular Bergman picture stands more firmly on its own.

“The Silence” opens with two seemingly miserable women traveling on a train with a young boy. We learn the three are on their way “home” but are forced to stop for the evening in an unidentified city (at least never identified with certainty) because of one of the women’s unidentified illness. Moreover the unidentified city seems to be involved in or preparing for an unidentified war. That’s a lot of stuff left unidentified but frankly none of those specifics are especially important for what Bergman is up to. They would help thicken a more plot-driven story but this movie isn’t much for plot.

After checking into a fancy hotel suite the sickly Ester (Ingrid Thulin) immediately climbs into bed while Anna (Gunnel Lindblom) prowls around the apartment in various states of undress. It’s an uncomfortable first glimpse of Anna’s unbridled carnality as she seems to relish the perplexed yet inquisitive gaze of her young son Johan (Jörgen Lindström). Without question Johan is the real victim of the story, caught in the crossfire of two warring sisters. You could cut the tension between the women with a knife and to them the child is collateral damage.

Both Ester and Anna are worldly women without the slightest bit of spiritual conflict and both seem to be on different yet equally self-destructive paths. Ester attempts to drown her unspecific and possibly terminal pain with cigarettes and alcohol. LOTS of cigarettes and alcohol. And her biggest concerns are dying away from home and jealously judging her sister’s every lascivious act. At least she seems to care for her nephew, but her twisted obsession with Anna’s bad behavior often takes precedent.

Anna would rather be out on the town catching the lustful eye of potentially new boy-toys than spend time at the hotel with her son. She blithely flirts with a local waiter followed by a sexual encounter which she relays to Ester with a perverse satisfaction. In fact it seems that Anna is driven by hurting her sister as much as (if not more than) personal pleasure.

The genesis of this bitter and toxic animosity between siblings is another of the film’s unresolved mysteries. So we are left in a similar position as Johan – perplexed, often alone, and in a constant state of observation. Bergman spends a lot of time with Johan particularly as he roams the largely empty halls of the hotel. Johan isn’t a perfect picture of innocence. At one point he pees in the hallway with no shame whatsoever. Later he swipe’s some cherished family photos from the hotel’s elderly porter and then stuffs them under the carpet. Simply put, it’s hard to figure out what Bergman is trying to say through Johan.

And speaking of the porter, he’s played by Swedish actor Håkan Jahnberg, a veteran of both stage and screen. He’s one of the film’s few glimpses of light. Whenever Ester buzzes he’s there in snap, bringing more booze, collecting soiled sheets, even helping her into bed during one of her spells. Funny thing is we never understand a word he says (there is not a single subtitle when he speaks). Yet his gentle smile and thoughtful mannerisms speaks volumes.

And that’s really all there is to “The Silence”. It plays out like a series of snapshots, linked together by the thinnest of plot threads. No doubt there is plenty of subtext and symbolism that Bergman wants us to wrestle with, much like the previous two films of the trilogy. But unlike those movies, finding any discernible ‘meat to chew on’ here is a chore. The performances are strong as is the cinematography by Bergman favorite Sven Nykvist. But not only is it hard to connect this film to the previous two, it’s just as difficult to connect it to any meaningful point. I can certainly speculate about what it means to me, but where “Through a Glass Darkly” and “Winter Light” made me feel something, “The Silence” left me cold.

VERDICT – 2.5 STARS

REVIEW: “The Irishman” (2019)

December 10, 2019 by Keith Garlington

No filmmaker has explored the complex worlds of mob bosses, wise guys, and the streetwise better than Martin Scorsese. Over his 50-plus year career he has frequently returned to these crime stories many of which have a strong moral point to make about the consequences that come with such a life. It’s too early to say whether his latest gangland epic “The Irishman” is his best, but the fact that it must be considered speaks volumes.

Taking from the vein of “Goodfellas” and “Casino”, Scorsese unwraps “The Irishman” through the narration of its central character. Our first glimpse of Frank Sheeran (Robert De Niro) sees him alone in a Pennsylvania nursing home. He begins telling his story which screenwriter Steven Zaillian adapts from the biography “I Heard You Paint Houses” by Charles Brandt. It spans three decades of mob jobs, labor corruption, and of course underworld violence.

Frank begins his story in the 1950’s as a World War II vet driving a truck for a meat distributor. He crosses paths with Russell Bufalino (Joe Pesci), the boss of a Pennsylvania crime family. Russell takes a liking to Frank and their chance meeting leads to a handful of odd jobs around town. Soon Frank is entrusted with bigger responsibilities which earns him even more respect among the local wise guys.

Russell introduces Frank to Jimmy Hoffa (Al Pacino) who runs the Teamsters labor union out of Detroit. Turns out Jimmy is feeling heat from the federal government because of his ties with organized crime (among other things). Jimmy’s also dealing with an ambitious Anthony “Tony Pro” Provenzano (Stephen Graham) who is working his way up the Teamsters rank. Jimmy becomes a mentor to Frank and makes him his #1 guy.

But as Hoffa’s relationship with the mob sours, Frank, who has close bonds with both, finds himself caught in the middle. While all of this is building up and playing out, a literal Who’s Who from the era’s real-life Mafia scene are represented in some fashion: Anthony “Fat Tony” Salerno, “Crazy” Joe Gallo, and even Albert Anastasia among others. As someone who has done a fair amount of reading on the history of La Cosa Nostra it’s impressive to see how Scorsese and Zaillian weave so many in and out of their story.

Equally impressive is watching big moments in American history unfold in the background – Bay of Pigs, JFK’s assassination and so on. It’s one of several things that gives this film its sense of time and place. And it’s one of many ways the film feels yanked right out of a time capsule. With a striking authenticity Scorsese paints a vivid portrait of America while highlighting the mob’s extensive influence.

There’s been a lot of talk about Scorsese bypassing the hiring of younger actors to help cover his sprawling timeline. Instead he uses some age-altering digital trickery that allows De Niro, Pesci, and Pacino to play their characters from their thirties to the seventies. Sometimes you can’t help but notice it, but not because it looks bad. It’s more of a subconscious thing. We know these actors are in their seventies so when we see them suddenly thirty years younger we can’t help but notice. Still it’s pretty incredible to see.

“The Irishman” features so many classic Scorsese trademarks. It features abrasive, complex, and well-developed characters. There is its heavy focus on crime, violence and corruption. We get Scorsese’s pitch-perfect use of period music. And there is always someone wrestling with guilt, penance, and consequences. In fact, we are steadily reminded of the consequences. Countless times Scorsese freezes the frame on a character with text stating the date and details of their murder. It’s as if Scorsese is drilling home the point that the lifestyle may appear glamorous, but it all too often ends in brutal, violent death.

So you could say “The Irishman” is above all things a tragedy. Underneath its veneer of wise guy tradition and violence lies the story of a man facing the music for his embrace of mob life and neglect of his family. It’s a masterwork of storytelling and moves at such a crisp pace despite being three and a half hours long. Moreover it truly feels like a movie only Martin Scorsese could have made.