Director: Clint Eastwood
Writers: Sam Dolnick (inspired by the New York Times Magazine Article “The Sinaloa Cartel’s 90-Year Old Drug Mule” by), Nick Schenk
Stars: Clint Eastwood, Bradley Cooper, Taissa Farmiga

Synopsis: A 90-year-old horticulturist and Korean War veteran is caught transporting $3 million worth of cocaine through Michigan for a Mexican drug cartel.

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Although beautifully shot and gracefully acted, Clint Eastwood’s latest film, The Mule, falters with story and character.  The Mule is the story of an aging veteran, Earl Stone (Clint Eastwood) who, through chance and desperation, becomes a successful drug smuggler.  He is stubborn as a mule and embraces that stubbornness wholeheartedly. Earl ventures deeper into the world of the drug cartel, while his family seeks his attention and affection.  As the story progresses, two DEA agents (Bradley Cooper and Michael Peña) provide filler and often their appearance seems distracting and obtrusive. Through Eastwood’s minimalist style, the plot is laid forth and neither surprises, thrills, nor entertains.  In the long run, the only cargo The Mule transports is one-dimensionality and unearned redemption.

Earl Stone is a successful horticulturist.  His flowers have won him awards and his life revolves around his work.  He is a curmudgeon, a narcissist, and a racist. After his business crumbles, Earl becomes enamored by a new career path: drug mule.   Earl maintains little to no redeemable qualities and the film seems to have no issue hanging the whole story on a character who is almost impossible with which to sympathize.  Earl grasps to the perceived betterment of the past. No technology, no filter, and a time when young people weren’t on their damned phones all the time! These small moments creep up in the film often.  Whether to scold millennials or to shine a light on simpler times, Eastwood’s message comes off as uninspired and lost.

Moments of racism and misogyny are utilized in The Mule for levity.  If the film presented some sort of purpose for them, these moments could work to better understand Earl as a character, but instead, they lack nuance and come off as a message from Eastwood himself, rather than part of the overarching film world he is trying to construct.  This creates a one-dimensional world that seems more unreal than real due to its lack of plasticity and undefined message. Earl’s family consists of his ex-wife (Dianne Wiest), his daughter (Alison Eastwood), and his granddaughter (Taissa Farmiga). Each woman inexplicably remains attached to Earl.  Even though he has disappointed and angered them over the years due to his penchant for personal and occupational accolades, somehow, they still crave his attention. The film takes terrible pains to try to make a reunion happen. However, Earl is only out for himself and rarely does anything for others that do not have a personal benefit to himself.

When Earl finally does slow down and give his family the attention that the film believes they deserve, it is completely out of place.  Unfortunately, Earl has irredeemable qualities and does not warrant any positive affections from his family or anyone else in the film. The story gets lost in a model of redemption that never emphasizes why the character deserves atonement.  Earl does not resort to smuggling drugs to help others; he does it to receive praise from others: funding part of his granddaughter’s wedding so that he can be seen as a hero, preserving the VFW hall so he can bask in glory at a party thrown for him, etc.  If the film is attempting to show Earl as some sort of philanthropist who gives for the betterment of others, it does not come through. His good deeds are always shown in praise of him, not the deed. In this way, Earl does not merit redemption. His narcissism is irreconcilable and the confusion in the story and character development is palpable.  A once deft and nuanced storyteller, Eastwood is now a man who follows a formula, a formula that never introduces or resolves anything properly. However, the film is beautifully filmed, and Eastwood’s eye for minimalist imagery is still as taut as ever. In a film that mostly takes place in the cab of a truck and in rundown hotels, The Mule is surprisingly photogenic.  Unfortunately, the beauty of the film is not enough to save it from the lack of dimensionality.

Overall Grade: C+

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Director: John McPhail
Writers: Alan McDonald and Ryan McHenry
Stars: Ella Hunt, Malcolm Cumming, Sarah Swire and Paul Kaye

Synopsis: A zombie apocalypse threatens the sleepy town of Little Haven – at Christmas – forcing Anna and her friends to fight, slash and sing their way to survival.

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If someone told me they wanted to make a musical about zombies I probably would have laughed and sarcastically told them “good luck with that…” Luckily the creative geniuses behind Anna and the Apocalypse didn’t consult me before making their movie. I first heard about this film from my local theater’s film festival, Lost Weekend. It was one of the best received films out of the 27 or so they showed over that weekend. I unfortunately didn’t get to see it then, but it was recently released close-ish (two hours away) to me, so I jumped on the chance to see it. It’s showing in just over 100 theaters around the US now (more in the UK), so if it’s in a theater near you, please go see it. Though it only recently has its theatrical release, Anna and the Apocalypse has been around since 2017 where it debuted at the Fantastic Fest film festival in Austin.

Anna and the Apocalypse tells the story of a small town in Scotland that is plagued with a zombie outbreak at Christmas. It stars Ella Hunt as high school student Anna, the main protagonist, and Malcolm Cumming as her best friend John. Most of the cast is unfamiliar to me, save for the malevolent soon-to-be headmaster Savage, played by Paul Kaye. I spent the entire movie thinking “I know him from somewhere…” and it wasn’t until the end that I placed him as Thoros of Myr from Game of Thrones. He ended up being one of my favorite characters. His song “Nothing’s Gonna Stop Me Now” gave me Neil Patrick Harris/Count Olaf vibes. Sarah Swire who plays the outcast/journalist Steph also has an amazing voice, I really enjoyed her character too. Ben Wiggins, who plays Nick the good-looking-popular-athlete-jerk stereotype also surprised me in his song “Soldier at War”. I was determined not to like him, but his velvety voice and flawless falsetto won me over.

I honestly couldn’t think of anything negative to say about this film. There are things that, if done, could have made this movie bad, but they didn’t go that route. If they had gone a different way with the ending or changed the fate of the some of the characters, it probably would have been too cliché or too much ‘Christmas high school musical’ not enough ‘zombie apocalypse’. But this movie has the best combination of all of those elements. The zombies were done well, the songs were catchy, good balance of comedic relief, and the singers were great. I was shocked at how well everything meshed together. The only comment I have is this may not be Christmassy enough (for some critics) to be declared an official “Christmas Movie”. It fits more into the Die Hard category, where it’s a film that happens to take place during Christmas. (Which is perfectly fine by me and I’d consider it a Christmas movie.)

Honestly, if “Zombie Christmas Musical” doesn’t intrigue you, then Anna and the Apocalypse probably isn’t the movie for you. If you are interested, this movie is a good mix of fun and scary, and definitely has all the makings of a cult classic. I’ve been jamming out to the soundtrack for a week and hoping it’s either released on Blu-ray or to a theater closer to me soon.

Overall Grade: A

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Director: Joshua Overbay
Writer: Andie Morgenlander, Joshua Overbay
Stars: Erik Odom, Andie Morgenlander, Dustin Whitehead

Synopsis: Two artists collide at the lowest point in their lives and they form a deep emotional bond that alters them both in unanticipated ways.

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Joshua Overbay stunned us in 2014 with As It Is In Heaven, one of the better movies about spirituality we’ve seen in recent years. Well Overbay is back with a new film, Luke & Jo, a stark departure from the rural nature of Kentucky to a suburban drama about two lost individuals who bond over their similar dilemmas. But like As It Is In Heaven, Luke & Jo is handled with grace and diligently explores what drives the emotional displacement in both Luke and Jo.

Luke (Erik Odom) is a married man and an aspiring screenwriter who travels to Hollywood where he’s hoping to meet producers who would be willing to look at his latest script. Jo (Andie Morgenlander) is a struggling musician who can’t seem to get her life in order. The two of them randomly come across each other at a local bar and strike up a friendship after learning about how comparable their lives are. The relationship gets even more complicated as Luke, whose marriage is on the fringe, begins to flirt with thoughts that test his morals.

The biggest strength of Juke & Jo lies within Overbay and Morgenlander’s script, which wonderfully balances both arcs of Luke and Jo, while dabbling into themes of temptation, depression, isolation, ambition and one’s inability to cope. The conflict in both characters evoke a pathos that many people will be able to connect to as they begin find hope in each other. However, what makes the script even more transcendent is how Overbay and Morgenlander upend that hope with the harsh realities of life. Back in 2014, the ending to As It Is In Heaven was by far one of the best endings of that year, and once again Overbay delivers on something magical. Instead of lingering in sentimentality or being spiritual cloy, he ambiguously offers a dichotomy that leaves us wondering what happens next for Luke and Jo.

This is amplified by great direction and cinematography as well. Much like the dialogue, a lot of imagery in Luke & Jo was improvised to make the naturalistic components to the film even more palpable and evocative. And boy, did they succeed. In one scene, as Luke and Jo are walking through the town and talking, the camera tracks with them glistening in the city lights and it gorgeously captures their bond in the moment. This is a motif we see constantly throughout the film. The camera isn’t overly active or calling attention to itself, but rather being another natural participant alongside our main protagonists.

Erik Odom gives a solid performance as Luke. There are perhaps a few instances where he’s unable to deliver on his Luke’s most extreme emotions, but when focused on the internal ramblings of the character, Odom is more than servicable. Andie Morgenlander is excellent as Jo. She’s constantly on the fringe, but never to the point of being detached from reality. She is wanting more out of life but not sure how to attain it, and Morgenlander taps into that struggle with a robust poignancy that comes through with intense vigor. The chemistry of Morgenlander and Odom is very good, giving credence to that final scene and its ambiguity.

Luke & Jo is a small film that continues to show promise for Joshua Overbay. Yeah, you could nitpick a few things here and there that are a result of being on a micro-budget, but if you push those aside there is some real depth on display here. In a pivotal scene where Luke has a meeting with a producer, Overbay orchestrates symbolism and narrative storytelling in some rather remarkable ways. I can’t imagine what he’d be able to do with a real budget. If he’s able to get his hands on some real money, watch out.

Overall Grade: A-

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Luke and Jo Official Trailer from Solis Films on Vimeo.

Director: Andy Serkis
Writer: Callie Kloves (screenplay by), Rudyard Kipling (based on the stories of)
Stars: Christian Bale, Cate Blanchett, Benedict Cumberbatch

Synopsis: A human child raised by wolves must face off against a menacing tiger named Shere Khan, as well as his own origins.

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Things get complicated when one is stuck between two worlds. Much like the title character of Mowgli: Legend of the Jungle, the film itself seems to be trapped between two worlds: the world of men and the jungle. With the film, on one side it’s the source material, Rudyard Kipling’s 1894 collection of stories known as The Jungle Book, and on the other side is the duality of Disney’s animated film (1967) and a live action version (2016). Also allowing this film to be caught between two worlds is the fact that while Mowgli has all the names attached that would make it a blockbuster theater release, it instead drops on Netflix with only slight fanfare. So, somewhere between the darker source material and a lively sing-a-long as well as a Hollywood spectacle debuting on the small screen, Mowgli: Legend of the Jungle sits in no-man’s land, and no-man’s land is not a great place to be.

The story is familiar enough. Mowgli, an orphaned boy, grows up among wolves and other jungle creatures to one day battle the threats of a deadly tiger who killed his parents and the existential dangers of an encroaching man village. There is true power in this story, a story of identity, belonging, and change. However, the story gets muddled and lost among deep plot holes and unanswered questions. The familiarity of this story is a weight this film cannot handle. In trying to be different, it fails at almost every turn. Mowgli tries to be darker more realistic than the Disney version, but why? The ‘why do we need this’ question hangs over the whole film. Is it needed to work as a tentpole for future Mowgli films?  Is it needed to present and new side to the story (which it does not)? Is it needed because all that singing gets in the way? Seemingly, there are no answers to these riddles. This film has no point; if it did, it probably would have been a theatrical release.

So, what could be the point? Perhaps it’s the use of motion capture technology for which director Andy Serkis is best known. So, if you have big-name actors like Cate Blanchett, Benedict Cumberbatch, and Christian Bale, then what better way to showcase their talent then letting them act their performance instead of merely lending a voice.  The problem with this is it creates an image that is exceedingly creepy. A panther’s face with the characteristics of Christian Bale seems like an excellent idea on paper. However, in execution it is disturbing at best. Sometimes it feels as though the floating, talking heads are unattached to bodies, making the images seem disconnected and eerie. Nothing about these images conveys the heart and soul needed to disseminate this story. Instead, the viewer is left distracted by the anthropomorphic depictions and unable to invest oneself into the film completely. If I had paid money to see this on the big screen, I would have been deeply disappointed. However, on Netflix, alongside much more quality entertainment, Mowgli: Legend of the Jungle just seems like another juxtaposition of moving images to watch when all other options are exhausted.

Overall Grade: C-

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Director: Hirokazu Koreeda
Writers: Hirokazu Koreeda
Stars: Lily Franky, Sakura Andô, Mayu Matsuoka, Kirin Kiki, Jyo Kairi

Synopsis: A family of small-time crooks take in a child they find outside in the cold.

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“Giving birth automatically makes you a mother?” – Sakura Andô as Nobuyo Shibata

Nobuyo’s challenging question forces us to reconsider our predetermined definition of family, and serves as the thematic through-line for Hirokazu Koreeda’s latest drama, the Palme d’or winning Shoplifters.  Following a poverty-stricken Tokyo family, who must resort to shoplifting just to gain the most minimal form of nourishment, they take in (or, steal?) a scarred 5-year-old girl left in the cold in front of her own home.  That plot synopsis might make Shoplifters sound more like a “movie”, but for those familiar with Hirokazu Koreeda’s best work (After Life, Nobody Knows, Still Walking, and Like Father, Like Son), the film nevertheless still continues his tradition at subtly deconstructing our perceptions of what defines a family, possibly in his best and most open-minded ways yet.  If anyone commits the biggest theft here, it’s arguably Koreeda himself, as Shoplifters has a way of sneaking up on you like a thief in a supermarket.

Despite its grander premise, Shoplifters is very much a Hirokazu Koreeda film, favoring stillness over melodrama.  There’s a natural tranquility to Koreeda’s films, making his work feel like casual experiences, forcing those to dwell in what’s devastatingly familiar.  In Shoplifters, thievery and poverty come off like second-nature for this family, as if none of this is new for any of them; there’s a longevity in their hardships, a tragic history which we never see for ourselves, heightening the film’s saddening interior by keeping things momentary and within a specific fragment of time.  We are introduced to this family during a playfully choreographed act of shoplifting by father-figure Osamu (Lily Franky) and his little boy Shota (Jyo Kairi), followed by a comically written dinner with the rest of the household, including mother-figure Nobuyo (Sakura Andô, who gives one of the year’s best supporting actress performances), oldest child Aki (Mayu Matsuoka), and their pension-providing grandmother Hatsue (Kirin Kiki), who has her own separate familial past that makes for an interesting dichotomy with the rest of this household.  There’s no exposition, but each of these actors give their respective characters their own distinctions that Koreeda wants us to observe; he loves making his audience feel like flies on a wall, and for those willing to give in to its calmness, you’ll probably love it too.

From there, very little conflict occurs at the macro level, even after taking in young Yuri (Miyu Sasaki) from the cold.  This family’s introduction is deliberately right in the middle of their hardships without any setup, with the rest of the film spent observing this household gradually behave more like a family with each passing day.  Many examples of this are sprinkled through the film like a series of vignettes; Shota and Yuri go on their own exciting adventures through Tokyo together (even questionably teaching her how to shoplift with them), Aki morally struggles over her source of income, and Osamu and Nobuyo gradually redefine their roles as “parents”.  In the process, Shota slowly transitions from selfish child to big brother, Osamu and Nobuyo become more intimate with one another (a great moment of such intimacy is first met with confusion, as if this is an act of sexual awakening for each of them), and Aki wrestles with the choice she has made to live with this particular family despite another life she may have.

And that’s the key word in all of this; choice.  I will not dare reveal the specifics, but Shoplifters crystalizes with a revelation that recontextualizes the film’s definition of family, whether a family by choice is perhaps more of a family than those by blood.  But Koreeda relishes in the questions instead of the answers; were these familial bonds on display in fact genuine, does a loving relationship surpass growing up in a stable environment, and was it right to bring a young girl like Yuri into a family of thieves?  We trust the love and affection these people share with one another, but we also feel fooled in their familial believability, and the point is to sense that tug of war.  A pivotal scene burning Yuri’s old clothes serves as this moral turning point, not just for all these characters, but in Yuri’s informal adoption into this family; we are moved by their acceptance in one another, while simultaneously questioning if we should be moved by it at all.  And this is the mark of a great film, when you find yourself questioning notions that the film may not even be directly asking you, but Koreeda gives you permission to look for them.

As we circle back to Nobuyo’s aforementioned question, does giving birth in fact automatically make you a mother? To put it more generally, as a family by choice over lineage, does that make these bonds any less familial? Koreeda seems to think not, but he’s not trying to forcibly convince you of that.  In one scene, grandma Hatsue agrees that you usually can’t choose your own parents, to which Nobuyo answers by saying, “Maybe the bond is stronger when you choose them yourself.”  It may sound like Nobuyo has just answered her own questioned, but the key word there is “maybe”, and that uncertainty matters. 

Not since Satyajit Ray introduced us to the world of Apu in Pather Panchali back in 1955 have we seen such cultural specificity on economic hardship and family, with an emotional calmness that feels heavily inspired by the Ghibli roots of Isao Takahata.  I’m not going to generically say that the film stole (ahem, shoplifted) my heart, but it gave me something in return – an additional outlook on familial relations.  The best movies teach you something you may not have already considered, and Shoplifters might do just that for many people, especially families. Embrace it. 

Overall Grade: A

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Hear our podcast review on Episode 302:

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Director: Otto Bathurst
Writer: Ben Chandler and David James Kelly
Stars: Taron Egerton, Jamie Foxx, Ben Mendelsohn

Synopsis: A war-hardened crusader Robin of Loxley and his Moorish commander mount a revolt against the corrupt Sheriff of Nottingham.

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There have been dozens of Robin Hood movies over the years, the first being a silent, black and white film in 1908. Some of the more notable films are Errol Flynn’s The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938), Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (1991) with Kevin Costner, Disney’s animated Robin Hood (1973), and Robin Hood: Men in Tights (1993) starring Cary Elwes. This latest version isn’t the best addition to the long list of Robin Hood films, but it’s probably not the worst either.

The plot of this Robin Hood doesn’t differ too much from most of its predecessors, other than to ditch the traditional role of Little John (Jamie Foxx) and morph him into Morgan Freeman’s character from Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. Not sure why they did that, but he wasn’t the only “Merry Man” to get a backstory makeover. In general, it’s a predictable Robin Hood plot that should have been an easy, action packed, decently casted success, but it was ruined by its multitude of anachronisms, lack of character building, and wonky plot.

There have been a handful of period piece movies that have successfully included historically inaccurate elements. My favorite example is A Knight’s Tale (2001). It embraces its campy/fun vibe, includes modern music, and things that just would not have happened in medieval England, but somehow it works. Robin Hood, which clearly states it takes place during the Third Crusade (1189-1192), has so much historical weirdness that it is unforgivable. It can’t decide if it wants to be a real historical action movie or accept its fate as a bargain bin, popcorn flick. Some examples of historical inaccuracies that ruined the movie; things constructed with steel beams and rivets (an Industrial Revolution invention), medieval grenade launching crossbows, Call of Duty style Middle East warfare, a gambling party including roulette which wasn’t invented until 1655, an attempt at a motivational metaphor around the word “firedamp” which originated in 1662, etc. The costumes were also inaccurate but I’m usually okay with that when they are done tastefully. The hoodie style jacket Robin wears was a stretch but it kind of worked. I feel like this film would have been better off it they had tried a slightly modern take instead of setting it in the 12th century.

The anachronisms weren’t the only things wrong with this film. While some of the cast was decent, Marian (Eve Hewson) and Will Scarlet (Jamie Dornan) were flat and unlikable. I still haven’t decided if I liked Jamie Foxx in this yet. He wasn’t bad, he had a good mix of comedic relief and action moments, but I feel like they tried way to hard to make him Morgan Freeman. I also had an issue with some of the action sequences- one at the end where they blatantly ripped off one of my favorite heist movies, and the crusade street fighting that was pulled right from a first person shooter game or Black Hawk Down (2001).

This movie wasn’t entirely bad, I did like Taron Egerton as Robin Hood, even if he looked a little young. Ben Mendelsohn did his best with the script he was given to portray the evil Sheriff of Nottingham. I kept waiting for his character to get better, luckily he does get to show off his bad-guy skills towards the end of the film. Friar Tuck (Tim Minchin) was also a nice addition to the cast. I’m not sure what else I’ve seen him in, but he was probably the best character in the movie.

Another positive would be some of the action scenes. There were some slow-motion, fighting bits that could have easily been overdone but I think they were interesting and well edited. They also had a few fights that were up close and personal that gave me a Game of Thrones season six vibe.

Robin Hood is simply not a good movie. It would have probably been better off direct to Netflix or Amazon Prime. It has its moments where it is entertaining, but overall it’s a Guy Ritchie film wannabe, with a messy plot, that fails on many levels, and is only saved by Taron Egerton’s good looks and a snarky Friar Tuck.

Overall Grade: D+

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