Ready Or Not

I first saw the trailer for Ready Or Not several months ago, in the summer.  I winced, then leaned toward my wife and whispered: "What the hell?"

We laughed at the stupidity of a comedy-horror flick themed on hide-and-seek. Then we dug into our popcorn and started watching the Marvel flick we were there to see. I didn't think about the movie again. Until I had a couple post-Christmas hours to kill with little to do.

The $5.99 I spent to rent it from Amazon Prime was a bargain! Ready Or Not was perhaps the most fun I've had watching a movie this year.

Yes, it was predictable. But it was "Yes!" to all the things more important: It was funny, horrific, well produced, and well acted.

Sometimes you can judge a book by its cover. But I sure as hell misjudged Ready Or Not by its trailer.

Judy

Two heel-clicks for a movie that teeters on the melodramatic. 

Three heel-clicks for an Oscar-worthy performance by Renee Zellweger.

Queen & Slim

Road movies aren't supposed to be like this.

Road movies are supposed to be full of hijinks, like Planes, Trains, & Automobiles or action-based drama like Thelma & Louise. It's even OK to have a blend of the two genres, like Midnight Run.

But Queen and Slim is something different. First time film director Melina Matsoukas infuses mystery and romance into this road flick.

We first meet the two main characters during a first date, but we really don't get to know them. Their names aren't revealed until near the end of the movie, and the nicknames "Queen" and "Slim" are never spoken. The audience must get to know the two just as they are forced to get to know each other -- a little bit at a time, and in and around dramatic events. The result is a slow-burn romance that isn't based in sex or want or desire; instead, the romance is built over time on true respect and affection.

I've been suspicious of Daniel Kaluuya's rising star since 2017's Get Out, thinking he may be a one-and-done wonder. But he is remarkable in the role of Slim, forever staying in the moment while still trying to stay one step ahead of the law. Jodie Turner-Smith is good as Queen. Her character is emotionally distant and difficult to feel close to (which is important to the plot), and that made it a little hard to have empathy for her for a long period of time.

Like Slim, though, the audience will eventually break though her hard shell.

Queen & Slim is a romance story built around the traps and pitfalls of a road movie. The acting alone makes this movie worth your time.

Richard Jewell

Clint Eastwood is a teller of stories. 

Whether he's starring in a film or directing -- or doing both -- Eastwood most often tells stories by stripping them to their bare essence. There's not a lot of filler in an Eastwood film; every moment seems important regardless of how much -- or how little-- is going on in a scene. And Richard Jewell follows suit. 

But this simple story has a rather complex undertone. 

Eastwood uses the compelling story of the Atlanta security guard who saved lives at the 1996 Centennial Olympic Park bombing to throw punches at two of the country's storied institutions: the Federal Bureau of Investigation and print journalism. These are timely arguments, considering the FBI and news organizations play significant roles in the current political divide we in the US find ourselves. 

Can we trust our rights and civil liberties to these institutions? Should we?

Richard Jewell placed his trust in them, and that misplaced trust cost him dearly. 

The cast of Richard Jewell is outstanding. Sam Rockwell looks more comfortable than ever as a lead star, and Paul Walter Houser channel Richard Jewell -- down to his perpetually-blushed cheeks.  The film's best role, however, may be the role of Jewell's mother. We meet Bobi Jewell as a naïve woman who loves her son but doesn't pay much attention to the world outside her own. The movie ends with her eyes opened to how lies and politics can devastate the life of an innocent. 

Look for Kathy Bates, who plays Bobi Jewell, to pick up a gold statue for her supporting role. 

Marriage Story

Noah Baumbach's Marriage Story is being hailed by critics as one of the best films of the year. And I agree, it is. The story is complex and layered, the actors are at the top of their games, and the dialogue dense and riveting.

Where I part with critics is that the flick is often described as a story about divorce. About a relationship lost. Rather, I think Marriage Story is about two people who finally find their authentic selves after years of being lost.

Lost in their selfishness. Lost in the day-to-day struggle of trying to make everything work but not being able to give full attention to everything they need to make work. They've lost their individual identities and their appreciation for what each person gives to the other.

There's no more telling line than mid-way through, where Adam Driver's Charlie is confronted by Scarlett Johansson's Nicole about a possible extramarital affair. Charlie responds that if the allegation is true, Nichole "shouldn't be upset I fucked her, you should be upset I had a laugh with her."

For some time the couple has simply existed in the same space, their marriage maintained by the love for their young son and by memories of who they used to be.

Baumbach's script provides important context and then allows the actors room to let their characters grow. We learn about Charlie and Nicole first through the eyes of the spouse; then, we get to sit alone with each for a while and get to know them. Both are human -- they are sometimes likable, sometimes not so much. Both have moments where they come off as the white hat to the audience, then moments where they are clearly the villain.

Like I said: human.

The performances of Driver and Johansson are the heart of Marriage Story. Watching them, I was reminded of friends I've had who separated and, suddenly, I found myself uncertain about with whom I could remain friends. I felt this way while watching Marriage Story.

I really want to stay friends with both.

A Beautiful Day In The Neighborhood

While The Film Geek family trekked toward the Cinemark theater to see A Beautiful Day In The Neighborhood our discussion centered on the theme song of the old show. 

TFG: You know, the Mandela Effect changed the . . .

Mrs. Film Geek: The what effect?

TFG:  The Mandela Effect. We remember things one way, but they really are another way. I think it has to do with false memories. Or parallel universes. Or a rip in our time space continuum. But anyway, the lyrics to Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood -- sing it with me: "It's a beautiful day   -- 

Kids In The Back: . . . in the neighborhood!

TFG: Nope. It's "in this neighborhood." "This." It was never "the." This. But we all remember it as "the."

Mrs. Film Geek: False memories. 

TFG: Parallel universes!

We bought our tickets, sat down and readied ourselves to find out once and for all what havoc this Mandela Effect had on our beloved Mr. Rogers. 

Tom Hanks entered the first scene and sang in a perfect Mr. Rogers voice " . . . in this neighborhood," and I started to weep. Suddenly, I didn't give a damn about the Mandela Effect. I was focused solely on this beloved character from my childhood. 

Tom Hanks was Fred Rogers. And I was 7 years old again. 

The magic of Fred Rogers is that his show was never about him. The show was about the audience, and Mr. Rogers was just the conduit that connected the audience to the message. Fred Rogers was never a celebrity no matter how famous he became. He had equal status with the viewer; in fact, he often stood in the periphery after he introduced you to King Friday or one of the other many characters. 

Fred Rogers didn't seek out the spotlight. He shined that spotlight on you. 

And that's the beauty of the 2019 film. Tom Hanks' Mr. Rogers is not the central character of A Beautiful Day In The Neighborhood. That role belongs to Matthew Ryes, who plays reporter Lloyd Vogel. Mr. Rogers is simply the MacGuffin that helps Lloyd recognize, then ultimately heal, his fractured life. 

A Beautiful Day In The Neighborhood reminds us that it takes courage and conviction to be selfless. And because it's hard to be selfless, so many people today are not. Fred Rogers teaches us that if we stay focused we can choose to be selfless. We can choose to connect with others. We can choose how we respond to conflict and crisis. 

We can choose to make our neighborhood a better place. 

The Irishman

Pardon me for just a moment while I gush:

Martin Scorsese's The Irishman is a masterpiece in storytelling. A powerful, poetic case study in humanity, loyalty, and loss . . .

. . . and I would have hated it had I seen it at any other time in my life.

Scorsese's name is synonymous with films about organized crime. (Although I'd argue Raging Bull is his best movie, and The Last Temptation of Christ is near the top of his career-best list.) While he's directed more non-gangster than gangster flicks, you can't think of his movies without thinking of the mob. Especially Goodfellas and Casino.

I'm unsure where The Irishman ranks in quality compared to these films. But, I know that without them this film could not have been made.

I saw Goodfellas in my mid-20s, and I relished every minute of it. Fast paced and fueled with testosterone, the story about men taking chances and trying to build a life (albeit a life of crime) made sense to me at that age. Casino was released as I entered my 30s, and I connected to it in part because it mirrored aspects of my life at that time. The chances I took at that age were more mature and more calculated than those of my 20s, but I was ambitious and focused on protecting the life I was building.

If I'd seen The Irishman at 25 or 30 years of age I might have been bored out of my mind. But the movie really hit home for me, perhaps due to my age. I understand Frank Sheeran's reflection on what a lifetime of deceit and crime cost him. I get the soul-searching that occurs later in life, when one wonders if decades-old decisions were correct. I know from experience that youthful ambition leads to poor decisions, and that regret about those decisions comes with maturity and age.

The Irishman is old-man Scorsese sending a message to his younger self, to the Scorsese who directed  Goodfellas and Casino, that there's much more to life than immediate gratification and money.

I get the message, too.