Archive for category: Reviews

The punch line, of course, is that Dick Johnson isn’t dead in this loving documentary by his daughter Kirsten. She uses his growing dementia as an excuse to grapple with his inevitable end, in ways it might occur (but probably won’t), how it will affect people and where he will go (which he clearly won’t). How much you like the film depends on how much you like Dick Johnson, or perhaps how much you want to think about death, but I couldn’t help but feel that the sweet old man was being exploited.

A thoroughly unpleasant two hours of snark, cynicism, cigarettes and a drunken boor, with nary a witty line to be heard nor a noble man in sight. Mank’s wife and secretary, who also look alike, are the only people who exude any decency. The story is a “who-cares?,” and it goes back-and-forth with flashbacks to mask its vapidity (granted, the act of writing a screenplay is not inherently dramatic). The movie relies too much on reflected luster from Citizen Kane and Hollywood names from the ’30s, coupled with black-and-white cinematography that mimics its subject. For a good self-referential movie about Hollywood, see Quentin Tarantino’s Once Upon A Time…  David Fincher’s Mank is DOA.

Perfectly competent account of the ACLU’s fight against abhorrent Trump policies, with a focus on the men and women leading the charge–very similar to Liz Garbus’s series last year about the New York Times reporters. More than a nuanced movie, it came across as a solicitation for the ACLU, certainly a worthwhile cause.

Pure catnip: an Aaron Sorkin drama with pithy dialogue, clearly drawn characters, a hopefully moral universe and a healthy dose of politics, past and present. Being in my personal revisit-Vietnam moment helped. Having just watched Platoon, the Ken Burns 10-part documentary, Da 5 Bloods and having read Oliver Stone’s and Randy Hobler’s memoirs, this moment of history didn’t seem so distant. The all-star cast was just that: all-star. Sacha Baron Cohen and Jeremy Strong were brilliant, and great fun, as Abbie Hoffman and Jerry Rubin. The one weak link was Eddie Redmayne, an Englishman miscast as Tom Hayden. Conversely, the most brilliant performance was by another Brit: Mark Rylance’s performance as William Kunstler. The echoes with 2020–street protests and a repressive government–made the story all the more compelling.

A thoroughly enjoyable musical biography of Gordon Lightfoot, with a Canadian viewpoint and tone. The title song alone was achievement enough for a lifetime, but Lightfoot’s career extended through two eras – the folk rock of the ’60s and singer-songwriter era of the ’70s – both fertile periods with wonderful memories to revive. Practically every recognizable Canadian folk or rock singer opined or appeared (plus, inexplicably, Alec Baldwin), which balanced the autobiographical comments of Gord himself, looking much older than 80. I liked his music when it appeared; I guess I didn’t realize, however, just how good it was.