Director: Rob Marshall

Writers: David Magee and John Musker

Stars: Halle Bailey, Jonah Hauer-King, Melissa McCarthy

Synopsis: A young mermaid makes a deal with a sea witch to trade her beautiful voice for human legs so she can discover the world above water and impress a prince.

While the ongoing debate surrounding Disney’s decision to adapt its older animated movies into live-action films continues, it is undeniable that these adaptations persist due to their financial success. The latest addition to this lineup, The Little Mermaid, not only aims to be profitable but also endeavors to capture the essence of the original animated classic while offering a fresh perspective. This recent rendition of the beloved Disney Renaissance tale manages to achieve this goal, although it is not without flaws. The film succeeds in bringing the enchanting story to the big screen, evoking a strong sense of nostalgia for Disney movies of the past. The Little Mermaid stands as one of the finest live-action adaptations released to date, if not the very best.

However, engaging with the film proves challenging from the start. While the breathtaking cinematography captures the mesmerizing and perilous nature of ocean waves, the story loses its momentum thereafter. The absence of an opening musical sequence, omitting both the sailor’s song and the introduction of the sisters, immediately raises concerns about the pacing, which persist throughout. It takes around 15 to 20 minutes before “Part of Your World” finally emerges as the film’s first musical sequence. This peculiar pacing sets the tone for the movie, struggling to strike a balance between providing an enjoyable and entertaining experience while grappling with scenes that feel necessary but uncomfortably protracted.

As one dives into the underwater realm, the captivating visual effects draw viewers into the story. While the film’s promotional campaign may have hinted at a more subdued color palette, the underwater world is surprisingly vibrant and colorful. However, there remains a pseudo-realistic quality that prevents complete immersion. In comparison to James Cameron’s Avatar: The Way of Water, which achieves near photorealism, The Little Mermaid retains a distinct animated quality. At times, it feels as though I am watching CGI recreations of the actors rather than the actors themselves, contributing to occasional clunkiness. The characters’ hair never quite appears natural, and their attempts to simulate swimming seem off, revealing that they are clearly not in water but rather creating the effect in a studio. Nevertheless, the design compensates for these shortcomings. The visually stunning mermaids’ fins appear realistically adapted, as if mermaids truly existed. The extension of scales onto their bodies creates an appearance akin to clothing, offering a unique and distinct look that sets them apart from the shell-bras of the 80s animated film.

A notable addition to the story is the introduction of mermaids possessing a unique and individual “Siren’s Song,” seamlessly integrating with the film’s narrative and aligning with the lore surrounding mermaids. Ariel’s (Halle Bailey) song serves a dual purpose, proving her voice to Ursula (Melissa McCarthy), the sea witch, while encompassing “Part of Your World” with similar melodies. This subtle addition adds significant context to why Ariel ultimately loses her voice. In addition to surrendering other aspects of her mermaid identity, Ariel must also relinquish her captivating Siren allure, including her voice. This added dimension grants her more autonomy, even in the absence of her voice. It is a much-desired inclusion that, coupled with other expanded character traits, grants Ariel greater depth, enhancing the captivation of her story.

Prince Eric (Jonah Hauer-King) also receives substantial additions that greatly enhance his character, transforming him from a somewhat bland yet visually appealing animated counterpart into a more well-rounded persona. While some of these traits effectively contribute to his emotional growth and his relationship with Ariel, others feel lacking and fail to provide meaningful progression for his character or the overall story. Instead, they seem clumsily inserted into the narrative to attempt a more three-dimensional portrayal. Unfortunately, this expansion comes at the cost of other characters such as Flounder and Scuttle, who are reduced to near accessories. Their inclusion becomes almost superfluous, reaching a point where their presence seems unnecessary from the outset.

Among the core characters, Halle Bailey as Ariel and Melissa McCarthy as Ursula truly stand out. Bailey flawlessly embodies the titular character, showcasing her remarkable voice and effortlessly capturing the naivete of the young mermaid who yearns to explore a world she does not perceive as the evil her father warns her about. McCarthy initially struggles to find her rhythm in the early scenes, but once she delves into “Poor Unfortunate Souls,” she completely embraces her performance, becoming the iconic sea witch in a truly captivating manner.

Undoubtedly, the songs are the standout moments of the film, elevating it into a truly enjoyable and entertaining experience. Alongside the heavily marketed “Part of Your World,” the film includes several songs from the original, along with a few additional songs for Ariel, Eric, and Scuttle. “Under the Sea” evokes vibrant visuals reminiscent of the animated musical numbers found in another Disney hit from 1994, “I Just Can’t Wait to Be King” from The Lion King. These songs pay homage to the grand musical style prevalent in Disney films of that era. Ariel’s new song seamlessly blends in with the rest of the soundtrack, fitting as if it were part of the original film. Eric’s song, while pleasing to the ears and visually appealing, feels slightly too modern in style, without necessarily adding a distinct positive or negative impact to the overall film. However, the same cannot be said for Scuttle’s song addition, a rap number clearly penned by Lin-Manuel Miranda, included primarily to showcase the rap skills of Awkwafina as Scuttle and Daveed Diggs as Sebastian. While both actors demonstrate impressive abilities, the song itself becomes grating and easily stands as the weakest aspect of the film, perhaps better off left on the editing floor.

Another minor point of discussion has been the decision to alter some lyrics in “Kiss the Girl.” Personally, I found the alteration to be so slight that I hardly noticed the difference. The change promotes a healthier environment by encouraging the two main characters to kiss, even though one of them cannot verbally express consent. However, it’s worth noting that the original version contains other problematic lyrics that remain unchanged in this adaptation, creating a sense of cognitive dissonance regarding the film’s intended message.

Despite the unevenness resulting from these additions and adaptations, watching The Little Mermaid was still an enjoyable experience. Halle Bailey undeniably shines in the leading role, and her future in the film industry is undoubtedly promising. The songs and story beats evoke a powerful sense of nostalgia, and although I may not actively seek to revisit the film in the near future, I can envision myself casually putting it on in the background for some lighthearted fun. The Little Mermaid successfully brings the beloved Disney classic to life, showcasing captivating visuals, enhanced character development, and memorable performances. While it may not be without its flaws, it stands as one of the finest live-action adaptations released to date, preserving the essence of the original while offering a fresh take on a timeless tale.

Grade: B

Director: Laura Terruso

Writers: Austen Earl and Sebastian Maniscalco

Stars: Robert DeNiro, Leslie Bibb, Kim Cattrall

Synopsis: When Sebastian tells his old-school Italian immigrant father Salvo that he is going to propose to his all-American girlfriend, Salvo insists on crashing a weekend with her tony parents.

Even if you are a serious cinephile who considers film an art form, you have to be a fan of genre movies. From the drenched digital effects of an action-adventure picture to the ominous murder-mystery thriller, movies are meant to entertain the masses. The same goes for the semi-autobiographical comedy that makes you laugh from your gut, despite its faults. That’s what you have with About My Father, coming from the mind of one of the hottest comedians in the world, Sebastian Maniscalco. This is a comedy in the vein of Meet the Parents and Wedding Crashers that plays into standard family dynamic tropes but happens to be very funny,

Directed by Laura Terruso, About My Father was written by Maniscalco and veteran CBS sitcom writer Austen Earl. The story follows Sebastian, a Hilton hotel manager who is dating Ellie, a delightful artist played by Leslie Bibb. Ellie has a down-to-earth personality and a sparkling smile that lights up the room. They are your classic “opposites attract” type of couple, with Ellie bringing a smile to Sebastian that he didn’t know he had. Quite literally, Ellie has to teach him how to practice and strengthen his facial muscles to smile more consistently.

The couple comes from extraordinarily different backgrounds. Ellie’s family can trace their roots back to the actual Mayflower. Her mother, Tigger (Kim Cattrall), and her father, Bill (David Rasche), are your typical blue-blood yuppies who lament that his father only gave him one hotel to start after he graduated from Harvard. Not to mention her brothers: Lucky (Anders Holms), a champagne socialist, and Doug (Brett Dier), a hippie trained in the art of Tibetan singing bowls, round out an eccentric group.

On the other hand, Sebastian comes from a blue-collar family led by his father, Salvo (Robert De Niro), a stylist who has been building women’s confidence and hair volume for decades. Knowing the value of a dollar, Salvo would always keep his son from ordering appetizers or desserts off the menu. When Christmas came, he would make homemade toys for Sebastian, such as a skateboard (and comments next year, he will make him “one of those Nintendos”). Sebastian needs his grandmother’s ring from Salvo, which he plans to give Ellie as he asks her to marry him. However, his father will only allow it once he meets Ellie’s family at their summer home on the Fourth of July.

The comedy is inspired by Maniscalco’s father, an immigrant from Sicily and an Army veteran who supported his family by being a hairstylist in a working-class neighborhood in Chicago. As a fan of Maniscalco for years, going way back to the days of the 2008 documentary comedy tour Vince Vaughn’s Wild West Comedy Show: 30 Days and 30 Nights – Hollywood to the Heartland, not much has changed since then. The finely groomed and cologne-doused Italian American comedian, with a penchant for class, style, and dry cleaning every piece of clothing down to his boxer shorts, has the same cartoonish delivery that makes for a welcomed juxtaposition on stage, as it does in this film.

About My Father excels when Maniscalco waxes poetically about his life and nostalgically looks back at his upbringing. You’ll also enjoy how the comedian openly disagrees with his father but recognizes the differences in lifestyles with these blue bloods that cannot be ignored. It’s no coincidence that those scenes, particularly when Sebastian and De Niro’s Salvo begin to make jokes at his future in-laws’ expense in private, work because they are straight from the theme of Maniscalco’s “Can you believe this?” stand-up act.

The cast has a nice chemistry together, including the humorous rapport between De Niro and Maniscalco. This is their second film together since The Irishman, where, if you remember, the latter received a bullet to the head from the legendary actor. De Niro has always been comedically gifted in culture clash comedies, but he never plays against type for a reason. While most characters outside the leads are cardboard cutouts from genre comedies, Cattrall stands out the most here as a fire-breathing conservative politician. While some scenes are typically outlandish (such as Sebastian losing his shorts on a Flyboard) and others may elicit eye-rolls (like Salvo using a family mascot for dinner), the scenes are still funny, albeit a bit too long and overplayed at times. The scenes where Sebastian is overtly rude to his father are purely manipulative to play into themes of the comedian coming to his own realization of what family means to him.

Still, you don’t go into About My Father expecting a reinvention of the genre with its lightning-quick running time. It’s a culture clash farce that works because of Maniscalco’s style of comedy and De Niro playing to his long-established comic strengths as a cynical curmudgeon set in his ways. This highly enjoyable movie has an infectious sense of humor and delivers a handful of belly laughs that will put a smile on your face, even as you come to terms with its imperfections.

Grade: B+

Director: Francisca Alegría

Writers: Francisca Alegría, Manuela Infante, and Fernanda Urrejola

Stars: Leonor Varela, Mía Maestro, Alfredo Castro, Marcial Tagle

Synopsis: It begins at a river in the south of Chile where fish are dying due to pollution from a nearby factory. Amid their floating bodies, long-deceased Magdalena bubbles up to the surface gasping for air, bringing with her old wounds and a wave of family secrets.

One woman emerges from a river and wanders around a Chilean town. She has a strange aura and everything around her starts malfunctioning, but she is too enamored with what she sees to register that she should not be there. When her elderly husband sees her from across the room – as the way she was when she died years ago – havoc ensues and the drama at the center of The Cow Who Sang a Song into the Future starts.

The film, the debut of Chilean filmmaker Francisca Alegría, is hard to define, mixing a family drama marked by unsaid secrets, resentments, and fears, with an environmental message, flavored by singing cows (giving honor to its inventive title) and passionate dances that convey things that cannot be said. While it is difficult to label the film, it is easy to admire its singularity and abstraction.

The Cow Who Sang a Song into the Future starts with the return of Magdalena (Mia Maestro) from the dead, resurfacing years after her passing from a contaminated lake that has killed hundreds of fish. Her appearance brings a crisis in her now dysfunctional family. After this surreal event, and more concerned about her father’s health than her mother’s return, Cecilia (Leonor Varela), a successful doctor, comes back home accompanied by her two children, including her trans daughter, with whom she has a complicated relationship.

The reunion in the family home means an encounter with past resentments and unknown truths that only become more unbearable as Magdalena goes back to her familiar environment, more with curiosity and innocence than any sense of duty to her family. She is too engrossed in her own rediscovery of life to pay too much attention to the emotional turmoil she is creating on those closer to her that continued living with anger years ago.

Alegría, putting together multiple themes inside her surreal story, is not too interested in offering explanations or clear answers to her storylines. Instead, the movie advances within an aura of mystery, unresolved feelings, and uncertainty. No one really knows what is going on, but they still carry on trying to make sense of the present, let go of the past and find peace for the future. In this regard, the film unmasks the complexity of family secrets, long-gone memories that time has made blurry, and conflicted feelings that judge harshly those who are absent and mercifully those who “stayed.” In this weird and ethereal fable, the Latin American reality of marital issues and family ambiguity are painfully exposed, allowing for an emotional climax that is illustrated with hard-earned understanding and new opportunities with the young generations. Nevertheless, to get here the journey is complex, illustrated aptly by a script that is patient and caring with its flawed characters. The story is filled with emotional baggage, but it is ethereal in its offering of conclusions.

The film is a mix of contrasts: it is about the environment and its protection, but it is also about family trauma and its intimacy. It focuses on one family, but it shows a survival issue as universal as possible. It is about the past, but it focuses on the future. Its approach on family and conflict is traditional, but the struggles it addresses – environmentalism, identity and trans liberation – define our modern society. It has too many things going on, but even with its surrealism, it conveys the massive burden that shapes the existence of any person in today’s world with their multiple identities, struggles and tribulations.

At the center of the story, both Mia Maestro and Leonor Varela give heart-breaking and contrasting performances. The first, ghostly and out worldly, conveys everything with her eyes, mouth, and body, never using her voice, but acting as a saving figure who arrives when it is crucial. The second, taciturn and cold, goes through a whole transformation presented humbly in Varela’s eyes and demeanor.

The Cow Who Sang a Song into the Future relies on abstraction and undefined ideas to convey its message. While a family drama lives at its heart, newcomer filmmaker Francisca Alegría is skilled enough to go beyond this intimacy and offer a message of environmentalism, acceptance, and curiosity for the wonders of this planet.

Grade: B

Director: Kelly Reichardt

Writers: Jonathan Raymond and Kelly Reichardt

Stars: Michelle Williams, Hong Chau, Andre 3000

Synopsis: A sculptor preparing to open a new show tries to work amidst the daily dramas of family and friends.

Watching a Kelly Reichardt film is a refreshing experience purely based on her minimalist style. While her last film, the “udderly” entertaining First Cow, focused on working-class characters, dreary skies, and a rusting setting, her latest film focuses on blue-collar academics and artists working to find their voice and make their mark on the world. Many will find her style a slow churn, but watching a Reichardt film is like leaving the city for the country on a quick holiday. In a world filled with bombastic movie franchises coming out this month, like Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 and Fast Ten, her film Showing Up’s relaxed pace is a big breath of fresh air that’s good for the soul.

Reichardt co-wrote the script, along with long-time collaborator Jonathan Raymond, and it is filled with neurotic characters but avoids clichés by stripping down the neurosis and internalizing anxiety and depression instead of having every character wear them on their sleeves. Those characters include Lizzy (Michelle Williams), a sculptor embarking on a career-defining exhibition of her work but can’t take a hot shower because her landlord Jo (Hong Chau), isn’t able to afford to fix the water heater. Her manic-depressive brother Sean (Joe Magaro) goes months without talking to his family. Her divorced parents (Maryann Plunkett and Judd Hirsch) bicker whenever they are in the same room together.

The performances are lovely and filled with Reichardt disciples. This is Michelle Williams’ fourth film with the director, after working on Meek’s Cutoff, Wendy and Lucy, and Certain Women. The great actress takes over a character’s persona so well that they hide in plain sight. That’s what Williams does here; she is so unrecognizable even though she’s on the screen before you because she fully and thoroughly inhabits a quietly suffering character. There are very few actors in the world who can immerse themselves that inhabit a role like Williams. I’d bet the average film fan wouldn’t be able to recognize her.

The same goes for Hong Chau, who has had quite a year with an Oscar nomination for The Whale and being cast in the uber-popular Netflix series, The Night Agent. No matter the material, There’s no role she doesn’t immerse herself in. Here, you notice her character’s relaxed and carefree demeanor, which serves as an antonym to Lizzy and gets under your skin. Mind you, not because of any intense dislike, but because she can live her life without regret, something that Lizzy cannot. The always terrific Magaro, the star of First Cow, is relegated to a glorified cameo but is compelling here as the family outcast. Magaro is an outstanding performer who stands out in any role, regardless of its size. The handful of scenes shows how short the distance can be between true creative genius and major mental health disorders.

You may be surprised that this film is labeled as a comedy because it lacks laughs, and the movie will be more challenging than most for audiences to digest. However, Showing Up is an understated drama about healing. Most artists have tortured souls for one reason or another, and you’ll find glimpses of that in the characters. A subplot of Lizzy and Jo tending to a pigeon’s health serves as a metaphor for what is happening around the main character. Reichardt aims to examine how solemn or eccentric artists self-soothe through their work and the world around them. By caring for someone or something else, Lizzy learns to treat herself with love and compassion in order to heal.

As we said, Showing Up is good for the soul.

Grade: B

Director: Guy Ritchie

Writers: Guy Ritchie, Ivan Atkinson, and Marn Davies

Stars: Jake Gyllenhaal, Dar Salim, Sean Sagar

Synopsis: During the war in Afghanistan, a local interpreter risks his own life to carry an injured sergeant across miles of grueling terrain.

The United States left over seven billion dollars in military equipment when they withdrew from Afghanistan, but the price of leaving seventy-eight thousand Afghan allies is incalculable. Most of these were interpreters and were promised visas for themselves and their families after completing their mission. Guy Ritchie’s The Covenant is given a proper big studio treatment but once again tells the story through the lens of a white savior character instead of the most interesting subject of the tale.

Guy Ritchie’s The Covenant tells the story of Master Sgt. John Kinley (Jake Gyllenhaal) who leads an elite unit looking for Afghan insurgents. Kinley is an officer who has to put their trust not only in their local interpreter’s translation but also in the knowledge of the communities in the surrounding areas. Their newest interpreter goes by the name of Ahmed (Dar Salim), who used to be a mechanic before the war. He proves his worth to Kinley by sniffing out an ambush early on. Ahmed has reason to so wary of spies from the Taliban – his son was murdered by the predominantly Pashtun, Islamic fundamentalist group.

After watching the film, you will realize the trailer gives away most of the movie, so there are no real surprises. Guy Ritchie co-wrote the film with Wrath of Man and Operation Fortune: Ruse de Guerre scribes Ivan Atkinson and Marn Davies. The second act primarily deals with what you already know — Ahmed carried Kinley safely through rough terrain littered with the Taliban. The film is not based on a true story but is inspired by the broad idea of the sacrifices the brave local interpreters made. 

Guy Ritchie’s film may be his most mainstream to date, and I’ll admit the first two acts are very suspenseful and even exciting. That includes the film’s first big gun battle, where Kinley and company stumble upon an insurgent base filled with ammunition and even an area to torture hostages while taping them. Another scene shows how reliant the U.S. Army is on these men, in which one of their translators intentionally misleads them. These set pieces are extraordinarily well-done, brutal, and eye-opening to the everyday dangers of patrolling during Operation Enduring Freedom.

You’ll enjoy the performances from Gyllenhaal and especially the gravitas Dar Salim brings to the role here. There’s a genuine visceral feeling when Salim’s Ahmed carries Gyllenhaal’s Kinley to safety. There is a tension-filled grip that holds the viewer’s attention and will hardly let go. However, the film stumbles in its third act when you get the white survivor’s guilt, which seems a bit pie-in-the-sky. Kinley goes in alone to bring back the man who saved his life, who has been waiting for approval while hiding from the Taliban, who have Ahmed on their most wanted list. The final scenes, which involve The Boys’ Antony Starr being paid to help with the rescue, bring one too many overwrought action scenes that feel repetitive rather than building any additional exhilarating action.

And that’s a significant issue with Guy Ritchie’s The Covenant. The final act would have made the film work so much better if it dealt with Ahmed’s struggle to survive rather than Kinley’s guilt and depression of leaving one man behind. Besides playing into the white savior trope, the film plays it too safe by being too conventional, which is commonplace in most action-adventure films. Sure, it’s inspired by current events where wounds are still exposed, but that rescue effort hinders Ritchie’s film from being great.

For a better film, please check out the far superior and the haunting nature of Matthew Heineman’s documentary Retrograde, a powerful film in scope and examines themes from a lens from the men who lived it.

Grade: C+