Director: Kevin Macdonald
Synopsis: An in-depth look at the life and music of Whitney Houston.

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Whitney Houston was the greatest singer of all time. She still holds the record for most consecutive number one hits by any artist in history. She is among the top 10 bestselling artists ever, and I’m sure anyone on the planet could name and/or sing at least one Whitney song. This documentary, by Academy Award winning director Kevin Macdonald, chronicles Whitney’s life by way of home movies, TV appearances, concerts, and interviews with her family and friends. Her brothers are the chattiest of the interviewees, followed by a few family friends, Mary Jones and Aunt Bae, Whitney’s former music director Rickey Minor and the notorious Bobby Brown makes an appearance near the end. It is a good variety of people that cover different opinions, viewpoints and parts of Whitney’s life.

I consider myself a pop culture scholar and dabble in 80’s music trivia, and I was surprised at how much I didn’t know about Whitney prior to seeing this film. For example, Whitney came from a fairly famous musical family. Her mother, Cissy Houston, had a successful career singing backup for Aretha Franklin, Elvis Presley as well as a solo career. Two of her cousins were also well known singers, Dionne and Dee Dee Warwick. Despite the wealth of musical talent in the family, Whitney wasn’t pushed toward a singing career. She was groomed for one. When she was deemed ready, her mother tricked her into taking over a gig by pretending to be sick. From there her career took off. I like the films method to fast forward in time; Whitney song playing to a montage of images of Whitney and her life, sandwiched between newsreels and current events to let you know what was going on in the world at the time. The first one is set to an acapella version of “I Wanna Dance With Somebody”. If you are not ugly crying before this point, I guarantee it will make even the most hard-hearted person feel something.

The film spends a significant amount of time on Whitney’s upbringing and family, zooms through her career, briefly mentions her personal life, and then focuses on her addiction and inevitable fall from grace. My biggest complaint about the movie is that it felt rushed or over edited in spots, like the director had exactly two hours and had to make it fit. It’s obvious Kevin Macdonald had collected plenty of material, hours of interviews, but still struggled to tie it all together into a fulfilling story. It was also hard to watch at times – the interviews get understandably emotional, especially when discussing Whitney and Bobbi Kristina’s deaths. I won’t lie I got weepy a few times, and I’ll admit it… I’m not ashamed of it. Not a negative critique, just a warning to be prepared, bring emotional support chocolate and/or tissues.

I have nothing but love for this film, and I highly recommend it to any of the following: Whitney Houston fans, documentary fans, and anyone interested in pop culture and the life of popstars. I saw the film in the best environment possible – a small theater, packed full of passionate, vocal Whitney fans. One women started bawling loudly during the previously mentioned “I Wanna Dance With Somebody” montage and she continued off and on until the credits started rolling, and then she completely lost it. Not entirely her fault, they set the credits to “I Will Always Love You”. It was a miracle she was the only one hysterically crying.  A couple next to me yelled at the screen any time Bobby Brown tried to say “there was no drug problem, drugs didn’t kill Whitney”. Bobby Brown was booed and hissed and called a murderer. Videos of young Whitney singing in church were praised and got “Get it girl, sing, Hallelujah”. It’s definitely worth it to see the film in a theater if it’s playing near you.

Overall Grade: B+

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Director: Rawson Marshall Thurber
Writers: Rawson Marshall Thurber
Stars: Dwayne Johnson, Neve Campbell, Chin Han, Roland Møller, Pablo Schreiber

Synopsis: A father goes to great lengths to save his family from a burning skyscraper.

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World’s tallest structure is aflame, is aflame, is aflame, but Dwayne Johnson’s here. While not (yet) a super-figure, the actor has displayed enough heroics — at least twice since 2015 — that currently active cape-wearers, mask-donners and relic-holders can start planning getaways without feeling guilty. Not long ago Johnson halted three colossi’s pancaking of Chicago using only friendship (overcome the other lumps in the footage and you’ll see), so extinguishing a towering inferno should be a sigh-and-done affair.

Unless there’s a change to his fitness, something that may neutralize the star’s commonly Instagram-ed beastliness. In Skyscraper, director/writer Rawson Marshall Thurber constructs his lead, Will Sawyer (Johnson), as an amputee after a botched hostage rescue. An image-breaking move that’s rather refreshing after witnessing Luke Hobbs’ abilities (Furious 7’s “Unplaster Flex”) and hearing only veiled praises tailored for Jumanji’s Smolder Bravestone or Rampage’s Davis Okoye. For once, Johnson’s inhabiting of a paragon of a role has little trace of spectacle, that beneath it all lies a person we can confide in and relate to. When away from the action, every sight of Will is an echo of Gridiron Gang’s Sean Porter, to this date the purest proof that Johnson can carry a film without the sciences of popcorn entertainment trailing his footsteps.

Ten years after that incident, Will replaces his FBI agent creds to that of a security consultant, says “I do” to the hospital personnel who saved him, army surgeon Sarah (Neve Campbell, always brimming with quiet strength) and has two reasons to bring the bacon home, daughter Georgia (McKenna Roberts) and son Henry (Noah Cottrell). At the moment, the Sawyers’ are residing in Hong Kong, on the 96th floor of a hi-tech high-rise called The Pearl whose owner, the composed billionaire Zhao (Chin Han, a somewhat-warmer version of his Dark Knight twin), has hired Will to assess its safety. Zhao is expecting results soon — the upper half of the 220-storey wonder is still closed — and seeing how he has “spared no expense” (hex phrase!) to erect the thing the rush is understandable.

Much like June’s Upgrade, Skyscraper moves with the belief that it will perish if not in seventh gear. Don’t beat yourself up if the film’s meatier elements go by unnoticed, including d.o.p. Robert Elswit’s definitely tentpole photography, James D. Bissell’s most-seductive architectural eye (the spherical and panoramical observation deck is rather jaw-dropping), Johnson’s effective drama fuse and even why the edifice is set on fire. Something about a clunky-looking USB, traceable money and forcing the good-hearted consultant to take the fall? It’s all secondary to, and seems to be constructed with less dedication than, Will’s arduous journey to reenter The Pearl to save his family. Hyper-avidity aside — consequences being some needless reaction shots, cramped set-pieces and jumbled showcases of CQC — Thurber impresses as the lead’s personalized “hurdle maker,” coming up with all sorts of challenges set inside and — gulp — outside The Pearl.  Can you feel your temples crackling, or your tibia prickling, yet? And like construction tarps, the film uses those stemming-from-vertigo sensations to prevent the building’s roughness appear in full view.

But there’s one crack that goes uncovered, namely the shamelessly paper-thin villainy, with one individual — Xia (Hannah Quinlivan) — leaping straight out of Stereotype Weekly; the Umbrella haircut is a mark of edginess and technical specialist is her role in the group. As for the main baddie, international terrorist Kores Botha (Roland Møller), it’s a missed opportunity that Thurber finds nothing to add to him, not even a cosmetic layer when spiritually the film links with Die Hard. Still, in what might be regarded as wondrous compensation, the non-Will Sawyers are all tough and sharp-witted cookies; Harry and Georgia never lose their cool amidst the fire (the brother wisely directs his sister to higher ground!) and Sarah will put employers of the talk-local-so-the-foreigner-doesn’t-know trick to shame. A detail both minor and, on top of the momentum and bursts of creativity (that’s one handy leg!), crucial to the film’s ultimately winsome trait, despite making a first impression full of lethal parabolae and “I’d like you to meet John McClane.”

Remember to buckle the hell up when you go through The Pearl’s doors.

Overall Grade: B-

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Podcast review coming soon!

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Director: Lynne Ramsay
Writers: Lynne Ramsay (screenplay by), Jonathan Ames (based on the book by)
Stars: Joaquin Phoenix, Judith Roberts, Ekaterina Samsonov

Synopsis: A traumatized veteran, unafraid of violence, tracks down missing girls for a living. When a job spins out of control, Joe’s nightmares overtake him as a conspiracy is uncovered leading to what may be his death trip or his awakening.

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In figure skating, there are several elements that go into evaluating an athlete’s performance. The first is the degree of difficulty of the moves attempted. This is known as the technical score. The second is the how well the skater executed the attempted moves. This is the grade of execution. The third, and most difficult to quantify, is the program component score. This score is determined by much more subjective aspects. It is very hard to explain exactly what you see when you watch a truly great skater perform or the qualities that a routine from a lesser skater lack, but you know it when you see it. You feel the transcendent artistry and soulfulness of a gold medal performance, even if the fellow olympians have a similar technical toolbox. Lynne Ramsay is to film what an olympian is to figure skating. She is an elite filmmaker with the technical craftsmanship of a master, even with only 4 feature films on her résumé. Her shots are bold and her imagery is beautiful, but her most recent film, You Were Never Really Here felt like there was something missing. It is a movie without a pulse, guiding you through a striking visual, audial, and sensory world, only to leave you feeling slightly cold and mostly unmoved.

You Were Never Really Here is the story of Joe (Joaquin Phoenix), a gun for hire who is tasked with rescuing the daughter of a U.S. Senator who has been kidnapped. With the thrust of the story established early in 90-minute film, the remainder is spent following Joe around as he either a) discovers people he knows who have died because of his latest contract or b) commit violence on the people who want the girl, whose name is Nina (played by Ekaterina Samsonov).  That’s pretty much the whole film. This is not a bad thing, on its own. There have been plenty of films that have utilized very contained, stripped-down stories to make profound, elevated works of art. The problem is that Ramsay’s attempts at giving the story that extra punch-up come from the parts of the film that aren’t Joe stomping around and pummeling his potential enemies with a ball-peen hammer, and those moments are, more often than not, too brief to establish anything to grasp onto.

We see small snippets of Joe’s past in the military and his upbringing in an abusive household, but there is a non-specificity to his trauma because of the brevity of these moments that makes it difficult to connect with Joe on an emotional level. In a movie that flies by in an hour-and-a-half, there was plenty of time to give the audience a better idea of what drives Joe. The images we see in his past and the parallels in is modern state are striking, but they don’t make a character full enough to have an opinion on. The film tries to let the audience craft a puzzle to discover Joe, but there are too many pieces missing.

What Joe lacks in characterization on the page, however, is leveled out by the performance of Joaquin Phoenix. Phoenix has always been a purveyor of broken, socially-stilted men looking for their place in the world and that is again the case in You Were Never Really Here. In a movie where emotion is almost always sullied, Phoenix provides moments of rage and sadness that stand out from the film around him. Joe doesn’t seem to have a particular affinity for his work, but it pays the bills for himself and his mother, who he both loves and is annoyed by (in that order). The strongest scenes in the film are driven by their relationship, full of sadness and dependence through a life of shared abuse. The other scenes in the film don’t possess the same poignancy as these, even as Phoenix’s performance is unwaveringly enrapturing (the guy makes crushing a green jellybean compelling, for God’s sake).

Fortunately for Ramsay, there is enough of a singularity to the vision of You Were Never Really Here to overcome most of the structural and thematic shortcomings of the film. Despite the film having few plot beats, it rushes by at breakneck speed. Ramsay’s eye for shot composition is remarkable and the combination of her eye and her use of violence makes this the most visually compelling film of the year so far. It is unlike almost any revenge film you will see with its patience, quietness, and frequent use of long takes. This patience only ramps up the viscerally of the action sequences, lingering on strike after strike with the aforementioned ball-peen hammer. You feel Joe and Nina’s struggle for survival because you experience the violence in a completely engrossing way.

When the film isn’t silent, we are treated to the work of Jonny Greenwood, perhaps the best film composer currently working. His work continues to dazzle here, ramping up the tension every time his music plays over a scene. This score combines the string-driven scores we are used to from his collaborations with Paul Thomas Anderson with the electric guitar and electronic elements that he often uses in his work away from film. It is not an omni-present score, but that only makes it more effective when it does pop up. A score like this one is able to make the most mundane actions make your palms sweat from the tension. Greenwood continues to be a hugely valuable asset for all the films he works on.

As the film moves towards its ending, the story becomes one of very pulpy government corruption. The bombastic plot twists don’t mesh well with the crippling tension of the rest of the film, sending confusing signals about what it is all supposed to mean. It’s possible that a version of this film that leans into the pulp of the script, and a little less on the arthouse poetry, that achieves its goals more successfully than this one. As it stands, the two approaches clash. The film ends bombastically (and very memorably) but there is no urge to reflect on what you just saw. It is a character study that is too vague with its characterization and a political commentary that goes too big.

You Were Never Really Here is a movie that can, and should, be appreciated for so many reasons. The artistry on the screen is indelible. Lynn Ramsay has proven that she is one of the most talented, original, and challenging filmmakers we have. She makes choices that are completely her own and executes them perfectly. Her degree of difficulty is very high. Her technical execution is almost flawless. But in the end, I couldn’t help but think, So what?

Overall Grade: B-

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Hear our (slightly different) podcast review on Episode 270:

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Director: Peyton Reed
Writers: Chris McKenna, Erik Sommers, Paul Rudd, Andrew Barrer and Gabriel Ferrari
Stars: Paul Rudd, Evangeline Lilly, Michael Douglas, Michelle Pfeiffer, Hannah John-Kamen, Laurence Fishburne

Synopsis: As Scott Lang balances being both a superhero and a father, Hope van Dyne and Dr. Hank Pym present an urgent new mission that finds the Ant-Man fighting alongside the Wasp to uncover secrets from their past.

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Ready for an incendiary take? The debut of Scott Lang, plus his alter-ego Ant-Man (Paul Rudd), is pretty tight. Production-wise, the film is Disney’s Solo before the actual thing, but what was released is still a delight thanks to gumptious main players, hyper-creative size shifts and, most importantly, decision to keep the soul Wright-ful. Still, our hero is of the “lower tier” type in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, what with box-office gains not quite Coachella-scale during its run and related memes showing no imminent case of over-usage. Maybe someone could use a teammate? It did make Mark Ruffalo’s likely-will-never-have-a-solo-film Hulk a more involved figure in the series (Ragnarok) and let internet have a more concrete cause to fawn over Chris Evans’ Cap than “leadership” (seeing Bucky Barnes).

And that’s precisely what is given to Ant-Man in this episode: a super-partner called Wasp, real name Hope van Dyne (Evangeline Lilly). Not the smoothest of duos — don’t forget she wasn’t her father’s, or Hank Pym (Michael Douglas, slightly looser)’s, first choice to don the suit — but a beneficial one. Wasp is the first item on the “wanna do something right” list (according to an exchange), the provider of the film’s backbone and the answer to why part two surpasses the first — if only by half an ant.

Acting on the theory that things entered the timeless, multiform Quantum Realm can be retrieved, Hope and Hank devise a plan to rescue mother/wife Janet van Dyne (Michelle Pfeiffer, ever-impassioned, even under five minutes), previously selflessly went subatomic to disarm a missile. Regrettably, the father-daughter duo will have to go at it, toiling away at a can-be-rolling suitcase laboratory, without Scott; the man’s antics in Civil War have forced S.H.I.E.L.D. to turn him into a house arrestee. No worries, though — there’s now more time to bond with daughter Cassie (Abby Ryder Fortson, a ray of sunshine) in the cardboard maze or impress S.H.I.E.L.D. agent Jimmy Woo (Randall Park, tenderly insecure) with learnt-online magic tricks. Scott may have gone through the adulting process more than most, but he never severs the link with his inner big kid, a persona Rudd continues to nourish with maximal charm and trademark sardonic zest. So much easiness is inhabiting the character that, say, randomly ringing him up to grab a po’boy with you and he’ll be down. Grinning is a certainty when he’s around, and that’s a comfort — blessing, even — after all that ashy denouement in April’s Infinity War (stay for the first post-credit scene aka perfect explainer why Ant-Man pulled a no-show there).

But Scott’s betterment here can be traced back to the lady who bettered him. Now with exponentially better hair and more occasions to take charge, names and the wheel (the late-game Hot Wheels vs. full scale car chase around San Francisco’s hilly roads is riotous), Hope really flies. She can now exude frankness and veiled compassion, traits that Lilly, like Rudd in and since the first film, winningly displays besides the kicks. It also helps that Ant-Man and the Wasp’s five writers, among them is the lead actor, have crafted a story more personalized, more character-bound rather than the minimal-maximal feature. Hope and the familial issue she believes is resolvable invite the film’s baddie, Ghost (Hannah John-Kamen, equal parts intense and sympathetic), to chase the good peeps across the walls, the effect of an ailment that Janet can cure, per two exposition-heavy-yet-buttery clarifications from Hank’s former friend Bill Foster (Laurence Fishburne).

Speaking of, Ant-Man and the Wasp has a habit of following up goodness with something less so and back. It’s like stinging you, handing out the ointment and repeat. Whereas John-Kamen develops her villainess using an actress’ toolbox — Ghost has a sliver of an arc! — Fishburne’s Foster apparently also does the same job with that of the writers’, which can get intrusive. Hope’s mission also has her meeting gangster Sonny Burch (Walton Goggins, again practitioner of the unsavory), whose function doesn’t go beyond giving the heroes a reason to alter their atoms’ size and, as a result, easily excisable. On the aesthetics side, the film is a notch below its predecessor; the antsier editing often has Dante Spinotti’s lensing switching between distinctive and pedestrian during set pieces and substitutes the emotion the frame yearns for with fun. That’s OK, but that’s not what’s needed.

That said, when alignment occurs, Ant-Man’s secret weapon Luis (Michael Peña) — now the boss of, ahem, X-CON Security Consultants — will again strike the funny bone at full force. At one point, the man has the enemy’s maybe-maybe not truth serum in the system, and there he goes imbuing his fast-talking skill onto many people, even the previously spared Scott and Hope. Other than a moment of genuine hilarity, one can take it as a sign of the series growing in confidence;  from here onward it will molt without the weight of its borrowed-soul beginnings.

Let’s settle on the visual front, though. Look at the first film again. Once that happens and a great narrative is in play, Ant-Man’s third rollout will be anything but ant-i-swell.  (A million pardons!)

Overall Grade: B

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Hear our podcast review on Episode 281, coming soon!

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Director: Morgan Neville
Stars: Joanne Rogers, Betty Aberlin, McColm Cephas Jr.

Synopsis: An exploration of the life, lessons, and legacy of iconic children’s television host, Fred Rogers.

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I am not going to say that Won’t You Be My Neighbor? is “the movie we need right now”. This isn’t the only time that we could benefit from watching 90 minutes of selflessness, sincerity, caring, and love in a theater. This movie, and Fred Rogers, are worthy of adulation in any era. I do not have a tremendous fondness for Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood, having only seen it a handful of times, but there has always been an aura surrounding Fred Rogers (or, at least, the idea of Fred Rogers). In Won’t You Be My Neighbor?, director Morgan Neville deconstructs the icon “Mister Rogers” to show the man behind the myth. Turns out, Fred is more like his on-screen persona than you would readily believe. The film won’t have the staying power of many other films you will see this year, but sometimes an experience like the one Won’t You Be My Neighbor? provides is more than enough. Oh, and there is a high likelihood you will cry.

For the uninitiated, Fred Rogers was a beloved American television personality. He was mild-mannered to an extent that you rarely see on television. His unrelentingly calm demeanor and forbearance even strike some viewers as “awkward” or “creepy” (a fact that is explored in one of the documentary’s most interesting stretches). In a world where educational television has been inundated with bright colors, loud personalities, and general sensory overload, the muted, patient, calm Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood doesn’t really have a place. That fact is, perhaps, the most interesting thesis of Won’t You Be My Neighbor: postmodern sensibilities, the need for immediate satisfaction, and a general cultural cynicism have made sincerity a pop culture commodity devoid of value, even in children’s programming. It’s easy to consider this some sort of political statement in our current situation, but I believe it extends much further than that. It is a commentary on our culture, not our government (granted, it is a very short leap to get to the political interpretation).

Beyond the principles of Rogers’ programming, we also see that he was very keen on speaking to children about important, often tragic, world events. What was so remarkable about Rogers in these instances was that he never spoke down to the children. Even when tackling issues such as the Vietnam War, the assassination of Robert Kennedy, or the Cold War, Rogers gave the children the benefit of the doubt, believing that they could comprehend and interpret these concepts on a level much higher than the one most adults would give them credit for. The reason for this, the movie shows us, may be because Fred Rogers, the man, was not nearly as assured as his on-screen persona. We don’t spend a lot of time exploring Rogers’ childhood, but we do see that he has been concerned with with his own fallibility for his entire life. There seems to have been a piece of his childhood anxiety in his creative work.

This quest to never stray from his moral path led him to a seminary when he was a young man and he became an ordained minister. However, he believed his true calling was on television. Rogers found the content on TV to be mostly abhorrent (even in the 50’s and 60’s). He was always interested in childhood education and decided to create children’s programming at a public television station in Pittsburgh. Rogers was the lifeblood of the entire program. He wrote the show, hosted the show, and voiced the many puppet characters he created for the more whimsical, abstract segments of the show.

One puppet on the program, Daniel Striped Tiger, is the closest thing to a Fred Rogers surrogate on the show. Daniel was a shy, timid creature that wanted desperately to understand the world around him. The bad things that people were capable of baffled him and he was very interested in morality and friendship. You see a special side of Rogers when he controls Daniel. Through Daniel, Fred is able to verbalize all of the things that he is afraid to say away from his TV studio. Mister Rogers had questions about the world just like everybody else and was always looking for his place in it. In his later years, he became more insecure than ever, as it seemed that children’s programming, and maybe the world as a whole, had passed him by. There is one scene where he attempts to address a TV audience following the events of September 11th and, for the first time in the entire documentary, he is speechless. In that moment, he questioned whether his attempts to teach had made even a minute impact.

=Don’t let this description put you off, though. Won’t You Be My Neighbor? is, first and foremost, a celebration of Fred Rogers and his achievements. He made an incredible impact on many, Manny people’s lives. We see the man’s advocacy for civil rights, education, and child psychology. We see him embrace a crew on his show that looks much more like a biker gang than a Mister Rogers fan club (he even cracks a joke about one crew member sending him a photo of his bare butt). Fred Rogers lived up to the lessons of his show. He truly loved us the way we were. He truly wished the best for us. Forget the political climate, the world could always use more of that sentiment.

By the end of the film, many people’s popcorn will have been doused by tears and you will float to your car knowing that this there is unconditional love in this world. There is no lesson to be learned here, just a display of the best of humanity. The film has not completely stuck with me, but when I was in the theater, there is no doubt that it was a beautiful day in the neighborhood.

Overall Grade: B+

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Hear our podcast review on Extra Film:

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Director: Paul Schrader
Writers: Paul Schrader
Stars: Amanda Seyfried, Ethan Hawke, Cedric the Entertainer

Synopsis: A priest of a small congregation in upstate New York grapples with mounting despair brought on by tragedy, worldly concerns and a tormented past.

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This is the question that is being asked throughout the entirety of the newest film from legendary writer Paul Schrader, a question that makes this one of the most interesting, thought provoking films of the year. How would God feel if he found out what we did with his creation? And more importantly, how would he feel about us, as a population, doing next to nothing in order of fixing the damage that we have afflicted on this world?

First Reformed follows Reverend Ernst Toller (Ethan Hawke), a man that recently turn back to the church after his marriage fell apart due to his son enlisting in the military and dying overseas in Iraq. He is the Reverend at the First Reformed Church in the small town of Snowbridge, New York, a job was given to him by Reverend Jeffers (Cedric Kyles) at Abundant Life Church, a mega church within the same town, but more on that later. After service one morning, Toller meets Mary (Amanda Seyfried), a pregnant woman who asks Toller to speak to her husband Michael (Philip Ettinger), whom seems troubled by the reality of the upcoming child. But Michael is not scared of becoming a father, he is an environmentalist and is scared to bring a child into a world that is dying due to global warming.

While this is going on, Toller is also dealing with the 250th anniversary of the church he resides over. He is dealing with the pressures from Abundant Life and Edward Balq (Michael Gaston), a business man that owns an industrial company within the town, to make sure everything goes over well with this ceremony. Balq feeds Abundant Life who feeds First Reformed, something that doesn’t go over well with Toller. And as the film plays out, both stories collide upon Toller, who we see throughout the film as someone struggling with his health, as well as his faith in the world around him.

While the films story on the surface about a man struggling within his life and beliefs is fascinating enough as it is, Schrader’s film is not singly focused on that. This film is a subtle yet bombastic battle cry to not just one man or one woman, but to all human beings on this planet. Schrader argues that when the world is gone, religious beliefs and disagreements we have about climate change won’t matter because there won’t be a world to live in. Schrader is not bashing religion in this film, on the contrary, he wants their leaders and followers to stop resisting and join the party, believe the science so solutions can be made. Schrader screenplay is a multiple layered sermon and with that, Hawke is the perfect vessel to preach Schrader’s gospel.

Hawke, whose work over the last couple years in films like Boyhood, Born to Be Blue and Before Midnight, has given new life to his career and made him one of the best actors working today. If all those roles have been appetizers leading to a main course, then this is one hell of a main course. Hawke’s performance is one of the most realistic portrayals of someone with a crisis of faith that I have ever seen put to film. Just like Robert De Niro’s cab driver in Taxi River, Hawke takes a usually innocent profession, a priest, and gives him a sense of terror and unpredictability that will define the rest of his already glowing career. All the supporting character, Seyfried, Kyles, Ettinger, Gaston and Victoria Hill play their parts beautifully but they are here to either heal or hurt or help Hawke’s Toller make his final decisions. Those decisions lead to what could be the most divisive ending for the rest of the year, and one that I have been thinking about since the moment I left the theater.

But back to Schrader, whose direction is as simple as you can find it, yet is the right move for the film. A close box frame on the screen signals that this director wants you to feel uncomfortable about what you are hearing and seeing on the screen. You aren’t going anywhere in his hands, keeping your eyes close to the screen, right where he wants them, making you focus on every word and action being said by Hawke and company. Like I said before, it a battle cry, an awakening if it were, and you need to hear what Schrader has to say. Our world is falling apart, in its first original form, and regardless of what you think about the subject of climate change, Schrader is set on making you feel something by the time the screen goes black.

It’s not often an artist is given the tools he or she needs these days to make the kind of film that challenges us in the best sorts of ways. What Paul Schrader has done is very similar to what George Miller did with Mad Max Fury Road, in that it doesn’t matter how old you are, or how long you have been out of the game, you can still innovate and take us into the next phase of true cinema.

Overall Grade: A+

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Hear our podcast review on Extra Film:

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Director: Stefano Sollima
Writer: Taylor Sheridan
Stars: Josh Brolin, Benicio del Toro, Isabela Moner, Catherine Keener, Matthew Modine, Elijah Rodriguez

Synopsis: The drug war on the U.S.-Mexico border has escalated as the cartels have begun trafficking terrorists across the U.S. border. To fight the war, federal agent Matt Graver re-teams with the mercurial Alejandro.

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“No rules this time,” said the poster and later repeated by the open-toed CIA operative Matt Graver (Josh Brolin). Since that isn’t the last time it’s referenced, the rejection of principles can be classified as a motif. One of many, of course; showcases of the desert and Mexico as hell’s downtown also come often.

Thing is, the previous mission, the one in 2015, wasn’t exactly a thumper, so “again” sounds like a goof. Or is this rulebook-shredding thing has a meta touch to it, how it invalidates the “three-parter” vision of Taylor Sheridan-written’s “frontier trilogy”? Regardless, when it comes to mining more shine from Matt and also-returning hitman Alejandro (Benicio del Toro), it’s best to consider the viewers who may feel blindsided. And when the main task is to legitimize the new op, or somehow make the heart link up with the left-field workings, Sicario 2, or Soldado, or — inhale — Sicario: Day of the Soldado, responds with static.

As with Sicario, bombs detonated on U.S. soil kickstart the battle of the ongoing drug war, but this time they are wrapped around people rather than locked beneath a shed. The explosives can either be a part of the border crossers or the group who entered a grocery store. The need to dramatically overreact again arises, and so the DoD — actually has a face this time, that of Secretary of Defense James Riley (Matthew Modine) — designates Matt, and afterward he to Alejandro, to get things done. What was planned is this: kidnap Isabel Reyes (Isabela Moner, electrifying), the cosseted daughter of a cartel leader, under the guise of a rival gang so the factions tear themselves, and their businesses, apart.

Since Matt and Alejandro debuted as deliberately inscrutable badasses, having them as protagonists, or actually men on a mission, in Soldado invites awkwardness. When the mission goes wrong, as it has to, Alejandro and Matt are forced to play a game of chicken with Isabel at the center; the aesthetically wolfish sicario sees her as a victim while the person who hires him is forced to treat her as a loose end. There’s no denying that Brolin, Del Toro and especially Moner bring only premium spark to the frame, but their respective character’s reconstruction of a moral compass is toothless next to Kate Macer’s loss of it. Call her a refresher, tour guide or audience surrogate, Kate is the reason we enlist; her annoyances at the system, rebellions and, mainly, defeat mirror that of us. No such bridge exists in Soldado, and if you’re thinking Isabel is one there’s a chance you were distracted when the principal’s office scene, or her intro, plays out.

The damaging coldness also resides in Sheridan’s at-first-unrelated narrative about Miguel (Elijah Rodriguez, acute), an aspiring and taciturn trafficker. This is Soldado’s “Nogales” story with the subtext drained, giving more time of day for garish brutality rather than spiritual toll. At least director Stefano Sollima excels in this aspect, and despite a different set of eyes he showed willingness to readjust them so the film belongs in the Sicario universe — callbacks to Denis Villeneuve’s steady, near-serene style are often heard, which aid a couple of the set pieces. A move most gracious, yet not the one needed.

Much like Sheridan’s writing here, and hopefully it’ll be the only anomaly, Sollima’s coverage of Soldado scrubs many areas and always removes the psychology. There was no attempt to dive a bit deeper into the unfoldings, to see which corner they inhabit within the grander, and topical, fabric. All the elements can’t thicken themselves as a result, and among them one is (the terroristic threat) a case of gross misapplication and another (pressure from superiors) is talent-wasting stuff. Sorry Catherine Keener, yet not so to the milquetoast POTUS whom your character Cynthia disapproved of. Whereas Sicario assumes the swagger of a thinking actioner, all Soldado does is staying active to a ruinous degree. The larger it grows and the longer it paces, the more it loses its grim-but-reverential tang in the first place.

At least Dariusz Wolski’s photography and Hildur Guðnadóttir’s score, along with Del Toro’s perpetually hypnotic bearing, preserve the original’s imprint (Guðnadóttir is a frequent collaborator of the late Jóhann Jóhannsson) so not all is lost. Still, they serve as a reminder that the hitman’s pre-soldiering days are of better standard.

Overall Grade: C-

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Listen to our podcast review on Episode 280!

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