Director: Tomas Alfredson
Writers: Peter Straughan (screenplay by), Hossein Amini (screenplay by)
Stars: Michael Fassbender, Rebecca Ferguson, Charlotte Gainsbourg

Synopsis: Detective Harry Hole investigates the disappearance of a woman whose pink scarf is found wrapped around an ominous-looking snowman.

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At one point during the hunt for a serial killer who builds sinister Olafs after dicing his captives – all of them women – junior investigator Katrine Bratt (a dynamite, but wasted, Rebecca Ferguson) gives team leader Harry Hole (Michael Fassbender, also wasted) a shot of vodka. “Maybe this will help you get your balls back,” she said, not restraining her dismay at Hole’s inability to see – in her opinion – the obvious culprit. With a few “oooh’s” and a hushed “damn, she cold” in the audience, one would say no one registered the film’s right-there-and-then pointed statement on alcohol dependence.

Not just Hole – correct pronunciation is hoh-leh, but the film goes with Merriam-Webster’s first definition – is a walking liquor cabinet with droopy eyes and temper problem in The Snowman. Also fitting the description is another detective from a town away, Rafto (Val Kilmer), who is on a case with similar MO but took place nine years ago. And Rafto must have married to his poison way longer than Harry: His voice is dubbed by someone else, his skin is wax-like, and he despises birthday parties. Oh, alcohol, always rolling bundles of joy into pastures barren of it…

Actually, it seems like key players behind the camera are also hammered. No one would have thought a first-rate crew consisting executive producer Martin Scorsese, his trusty editor Thelma Schoonmaker, director Tomas Alfredson, and writers Peter Straughan, Hossein Amini and Søren Sveistrup would be so eager to shove The Snowman into the furnace, but that’s what happened. The latter trio bears the most fault considering a mystery lives or dies by its storyline. The source material is a best-seller, and yet Straughan, Amini and Sveistrup spend more time emulating another – the also-Scandinavia-set The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo – with subplots about an industrial magnate (J.K. Simmons, also wasted) co-running a prostitution ring with a doctor (David Dencik, also wasted) and Harry’s many attempts to reconnect with estranged wife Rakel (Charlotte Gainsbourg, also wasted) that are ultimately meaningless. And what is the purpose of one of the victims’ twin sister (both played by Chloe Sevigny, also wasted) again? Isn’t she or her twin, per the trailers, supposed to be chased by the killer and then caught in a trap? For the latter, one has to ask Alfredson, who recently admitted that 10 to 15 percent of the screenplay wasn’t filmed and that the editorial department became responsible for filling the gaps. Not sure if Schoonmaker drinks, but Alfredson is sure forcing her to reach for the bottle.

D.O.P. Dion Beebe seems to be the only one sober in The Snowman. Having the ability to see clearly does pay off, since for all its missteps the film remains a visual feast. Every frame effortlessly highlights the scenery’s soul-deadening coldness and helplessness, but the trait comes through clearest in the grim opener featuring an abused mother committing suicide while her son watches on. Additionally, Beebe also depicts unnerving voyeurism in a dreamily seductive way, imbuing much presence into the atmosphere that made Alfredson’s two previous efforts, Let the Right One In and Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy, superb examples of mood creation.

Assuming in vino veritas is a legitimate concept, liquor is the best place to find out how Alfredson went from helming one modern horror classic and one delectable John Le Carré’s adaptation to this point. Hurts a lot, just by thinking about it, let alone doing so with a drink nearby. While The Snowman seems to have a few words about broken families, its more obvious lesson is don’t make a movie while alcohol is in the system.

Overall Grade: F

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Director: Sean Baker
Writers: Sean Baker, Chris Bergoch
Stars: Willem Dafoe, Brooklynn Prince, Bria Vinaite

Synopsis: Set over one summer, the film follows precocious 6-year-old Moonee as she courts mischief and adventure with her ragtag playmates and bonds with her rebellious but caring mother, all while living in the shadows of Disney World.

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Hopefully somewhere within this fictional “kingdom” that’s being projected into The Florida Project, there’s more Sean Baker has yet to unveil. Maybe it’s just the Cannes and TIFF hype, but there’s something that feels a bit unfulfilling about what the audience is receiving. That goes without including the affectionate performance given by Willem Dafoe and the awe-inspiring one from newcomer Brooklynn Prince. Also not including the exemplary cases of character study and the overarching themes of adolescence and innocence or in this particular situation, lack thereof.

Baker’s previous project Tangerine, was a small indie hit at the 2015 Sundance Film Festival and made a whole lot of noise for filming the entirety of the movie on an iPhone 5s. While there’s no denying that aspect is impressive, there is a never ending void of emptiness in relation to its substance. And while The Florida Project is effortlessly miles better than Tangerine, they sadly both suffer from the same fault. They’re just too lazy. Tangerine’s central focal point is the utilization of the grime and filth of the streets of California. It depicts it in a way that is not only sluggish but distasteful to the viewers eye and opinion. This is the exact way with The Florida Project, but only now it’s detailing the manifestation of a poverty-stricken environment in to childhood and adulthood, using it as some sort of obnoxious gimmick.

In respite to what was said about the craftsmanship he has for scenery and his abusing of it, there’s credit to be given to the man for the innate ability he possesses to represent the development of usually, multiple protagonists. There’s always such a high level of tameness set within the universe of his films, especially here. Every character is somewhat relaxed and mellow, almost like there’s nothing ever held at stake. That’s why the film feels so authentic. That honest, grounded tone that’s being produced throughout the movie gives off that sense of realism that Sean Baker specializes in. The way he pens such a modernization of these children in society today, goes to extensive lengths in the film. Between the unpredictable curse words being spouted and the delinquency of just playing with friends on a hot summer day. It’s the small variety of subtleties like this that need to be in more active screenplays of films today.

Willem Dafoe certainly holds the pants of the movie up. He splits screen time with the family and himself but when given proper scenes for his pure talent to glimmer, they’re no doubt some of the better scenes of the film. The introduction to Brooklynn Prince and Bria Vinaite hopefully gives them a longer time to extend their acting career given they both had such a strong affinity on screen as this mother and daughter that’ll likely put them on the map for future roles.

We can all agree childhood is an odd state to be in. It’s always going to be one big mysterious wonder as a kid and for good reason. You’re constantly asking questions and even when you’re not, you’re probably thinking about asking them. Your body starts undergoing through significant changes. You start acquiring attractions to people etc., but the bottom line is, things are going to happen for better or for worse. The finale of this movie does a wonderful job of exploring that. In the heat of the moment when things come to a conclusion, you get that level of disappointment I had stated before. You feel as though you missed something or there might still be more left to uncover. But after you have more time to contemplate and actually think about it, you realize that Baker absolutely took the right route. There’s never going to be a moment when you decide you’re no longer a child. It’s something that’ll gradually wear off over time. We’re shown here what can happen if that is to ever occur when a young girl is placed in a situation like that. No matter how mature or ahead of curve you think you are, you’re not. And here for Baker, it’s something deeply moving that almost brought tears to my eyes because of the heart-wrenching lesson she learned as the film ended.

I won’t say The Florida Project is a complete disappointment because it isn’t. If anything, it did everything right because of how it left me wanting more. It doesn’t successfully manage to break away from its overwhelming location but with the superb performances, class writing and frivolous moments of what it means to be young, it’s evidently a unique occasion I was glad to experience.

Overall Grade: B

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Hear our podcast review on Extra Film, coming soon.

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Director: Noah Baumbach
Writers: Noah Baumbach
Stars: Adam Sandler, Ben Stiller, Dustin Hoffman, Elizabeth Marvel, Emma Thompson

Synopsis: The adult children of Harold Meyerowitz reunite in New York in preparation for their father’s career retrospective.

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The premise for Noah Baumbach’s latest outing are as straightforward as they come. Despite a crucial plot element being set forth in motion as we reach the finale of the second act, what you see is basically what you get. Although it doesn’t set any distinct precedents of wanting to exceed the classification of those films that are just one big keepsake of families reconnecting, it’s with the impeccable casting and performances that engages with the ideally adept script is where it differs to their advantage.

The Meyerowitz Stories is a hellish delight. It perfectly encapsulates the imperfections of a somewhat dysfunctional family but also just all families in general. Even though it’s following the entire Meyerowitz family attempting to grow closer, each individual family member each seem to have a problem attached to themselves in the film. Not only is it ample to see each investing character from multiple perspectives, but it’s surprisingly very beneficial to the movie later on. I suppose you can call it the climax but when it’s being narrowed down to the remaining revelations, the different stories and flaws presented with each character clash along with their emotions, which transpires in to something really bittersweet.

A movie so genuinely rich in dialogue like this has such a substantial amount of nuances ridden in the script. Especially because Noah Baumbach has the proficiency of knowing how to do it. For example, there’s a recurring theme of characters being cut off in mid-sentence when transitioning to a new scene. It starts with Sandler but slowly spreads to Stiller, Hoffman and the rest of the supporting cast. Although used for some comedic effect, it’s a subtle little ode to the ignorance and lack of patience that are part of our characters traits. Yeah, it could just be nothing, but I like to think it has more to do with the connection of our protagonists. It’s such a sharp-witted script but it’s definitely well candid to give you a good laugh from time to time—which’ll transfer in to the next topic perfectly.

The entire ensemble cast is easily one of the most impressive to be in a film this year. Adam Sandler and Ben Stiller both inflict such a certain degree of tenderness to their characters that is explored much farther down the line of the movie and when it is, it’s so incredibly moving. Sandler’s character is oddly reminiscent to his character in Punch-Drunk Love in terms of personality, but he ultimately brings his own style to the table. Even with Dustin Hoffman pushing 80 years of age, he has never been better. He treads in to such a deep path of Harold Meyerowitz that it truly shows the range he has as an actor. Even though he’s already proved that with his earlier work, it seems as though the people surrounding him are giving a performance outside of their ranges as well. The best part however is how truly interesting each character is. They’re all so idiosyncratic to the point where I couldn’t take my eyes off of the screen because everything that came out of their mouth was pure cinema.

The Meyerowitz Stories is such a delicate film. I say that because there’s just a minimal area that’s responsible for error. It’s possible some might find annoyance in the unconventional narrative but it’s something so minor, it’s hard to see it affecting your viewing of the film. The movie is just incapable of carrying any problems because of how much love and consideration this was put in to by Baumbach. Even with that said and with the overall lack of flaws, it’s objectively just not perfect. I just can’t bring myself to give it a perfect grade. However, it’s undoubtedly one of the best films of this year as of right now.

This isn’t the best way to sum it up and I really dislike using this phrase but, these are one of those movies that’ll sneak up on you. If you’re not expecting much or you have low expectations, that’s alright, but there’s a lot more to it than what’s on the bare surface. When it’s finally over, you feel as though you were part of this family and you were able to listen to them converse to each other all day. I really didn’t want it to end. Although it’s not perfect, it doesn’t need to be.

Overall Grade: A

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Hear our podcast review on Episode 244, coming soon.

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Director: Denis Villeneuve
Writers: Hampton Fancher, Michael Green, Hampton Fancher (story by), Philip K. Dick (based on characters from the novel “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?”)
Stars: Harrison Ford, Ryan Gosling, Ana de Armas, Jared Leto, Robin Wright

Synopsis: A young blade runner’s discovery of a long-buried secret leads him to track down former blade runner Rick Deckard, who’s been missing for thirty years.

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Take a moment to consider this: If the 1982 film was a cloud, it would awe any nephologist in existence. Not enough people were there to appreciate it upon debut, but it kept on successfully demanding for a second, third, fourth and fifth look. Then there’s its shadows, which are visible in subsequent genre entries (live-acted and animated), music, fashion, and understanding of future concepts. A cloud that, for 35 years, not only refuses to dissipate, but instead grows in the collective conscience of filmdom – isn’t that a meteorological miracle or what?

“Eh, not really” sure isn’t what this writer think at the close of his tour of 2049 California. Houston that afternoon was identical to that in Theater 9: drenched, in both rainwater and the tungsten shade that d.o.p. Roger Deakins let permeate in most daylight scenes. Has Blade Runner’s influence reached a point where it could affect the weather? The unnerving-yet-fascinating thought was nullified when other moviegoers pulled out iPhones and Galaxies rather than tapping their palms, who arrived in everything but sliders from Peugeot.

Anyhow, even without that little reality-blurring act, Blade Runner 2049 still assembles enough magic to frame itself as the year’s most transcendent experience. In every way, this is the unicorn 2017’s box office has been seeking.

“Retiring” older-model androids is the job of K (Ryan Gosling), a blade runner working for the LAPD and under close supervision of Lieutenant Joshi (Robin Wright). He looks young-ish, but is experienced in dealing with occupational hazards – as long as none of them resembles a date that may undo K’s identity and upturn the order that replicant-maker Niander Wallace (Jared Leto) has long cherished. Despite two narrative branches herculean in significance and ramifications, writers Hampton Fancher and Michael Green have woven them with an elegiac thread, referencing the past in brief-but-potent notes while concurrently sowing intriguing futures. The looking-ahead mentality makes watching the (Final Cut of the) first film optional instead of compulsory, but do consider it nonetheless. Time it with a rainy day. Double-bill, even, if possible.

Sorry for the vagueness, but us Texans have a few bullet points to abide to. Whatever floats Warner Bros.’ boat, perhaps, yet the marketing department is revealing “forbidden” elements themselves. Also, similar to its predecessor, the juiciest part in 2049’s story lies in its themes and not proceedings.

In the same vein as another Ridley Scott-involved sci-fi released in May, Alien: Covenant, there are a few world-building shorts worth taking a look at, contained narratives that are mentioned in passing in the big film. Humans or otherwise – time is running out for both kinds in 2049, and the survival of one may require the complete submission of another. As with all of his previous smaller-in-scope and more-grounded films, director Denis Villenueve taps into the narrative’s psychological tides, those whose ebbs and flows kindle the existential quandaries Philip K. Dick raised right from the title of Blade Runner’s source material. With this approach, at certain times Villenueve lets the images speak for themselves, no need for other filmic elements to play intermediary.

No need for doubt, too, when meeting the faces Villenueve has picked to populate 2049. Comparing to Deckard (Harrison Ford, returning here), Gosling moves through the film with as much coolness and, noticeably, more of the doubt resulting from his actions. Quite funnily, the story shuts down K’s human-or-replicant argument in the first act as opposed to allowing it to roam for decades. This is actually wise, since Blade Runner’s focal is a matter of “many” rather “one,” affecting both those with flesh-and-blood and those with circuits-and-clockwork. Grand conversation topic, indeed, but K’s delicate and loving companion, Joi (Ana de Armas), always expresses it with concision and endearment.

Regarding the villainous side, while Leto graces with a soothing turn as a blind and erudite visionary, making more of an impression is Sylvia Hoeks who plays Wallace’s dutiful assistant Luv. Don’t be fooled by the disarming name: There is a scene where she is seen executing an airstrike while getting her nails done. At times when tears are racing down her chin, Hoeks doesn’t just preserve Luv’s menace but, perplexingly, manages to amplify it. What the Dutch actress has done will breezily vault her to the upper echelons of many “best performances of 2017” lists.

Audiovisual, however, is on another level of greatness. Deakins’ work ought to get him that overdue Oscar; there is only beauty and clarity no matter if the scene is cluttered with details or just the raging, pitch-black ocean. It should be noted that some of the most breathtaking details are all in-camera, done via a projector in a foggy room or lights through rippling water. Also varied in style yet consistent in quality is Hans Zimmer and Benjamin Wallfisch’s score, which switches between riffing Vangelis to elegantly materialize the specter of memory and, presumably, employing a Ducati to teleport viewers to a riotous metropolis inundated with ads, secrets, and Syd Mead/Metal Hurlant-inspired structures.

In short, this is the kind of photography and score that can make flowers sprout from rubble. Instead of using these aspects to mask flaws, like a fair share of films from this year, 2049 makes them the second cherry-on-top sundae above the one made by the cast and rest of the crew.

Never “seen a miracle,” a replicant gruffly said to K, passing out the first breadcrumb to a sensational truth. Little does K know, but what’s for him is also for the viewers, and – look away if needed – here is what lies at the end for us: A perfect sequel and, arguably, film in recent memory.

Overall Grade: A+

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Hear our podcast review on Episode 242, coming soon.

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