The Ballad of Buster Scruggs – 7.9

There’s only one Coen Brothers – well, actually, there are two of them, but their vision is singular and unique. They are also masters of the craft of filmmaking; you feel they can do whatever they want, and you luxuriate in the experience. For the Coens, violence is an art, genres are meant to be played with, and laughter and terror are constant and uneasy bedfellows. If No Country for Old Men was a Dostoevsky novel, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs is a collection of Chekhov short stories, with allusions to Shakespeare, Chagall, Twain, Tarantino, Huston, and hundreds of Westerns before Indians became Native-Americans. Uniting the disparate stories was precise dialogue, erudite and literary, taken from a volume that looked like my Dodd, Mead Classics. My favorite was “The Gal Who Got Rattled,” for its sheer beauty, the complexity of its story and the acting of Zoe Kazan, although “The Ballad of Buster Scruggs” set the table perfectly, was laugh-out-loud funny and merited its eponimity. Least favorite: “Meal Ticket.” Definitely on the plus side of the Coen Bros. ledger.

A Private War – 3

The dramatized story of a foreign correspondent who is neurotic, alcoholic, charmless and a chain-smoker, who injects herself into stories and cares more about the people whose “stories” she tells than the people in her life. And to what end? For her own fame? For the glory of her newspaper? Surely not to alleviate suffering in the world and end wars, because her stories have the impact of a mosquito bite on the political leaders and military-industrial complex that are responsible for the killing. However noble her intentions, it’s hard to sympathize as she continually exposes to danger the people she works with and disobeys the people she works for. I thought I was a Rosamund Pike fan, but this role turned me off – even with a totally gratuitous nude scene. This was more an advertisement for cigarettes than journalism. If not for my responsibilities as a blog reviewer I would have left about when she lit up for the 16th time.

Colette – 6.7

Like a Monet garden scene, Colette is a lovely period piece, more art than fire. The always beautiful Keira Knightley (how does she look so young!) embodies the turn-of-the-century writer/performer as she explores life and emerges from her husband’s shadow and control. To me, Dominic West’s role – and its contrast with Jonathan Pryce’s in The Wife – was the point of interest. I thought he was a somewhat sympathetic character (Siri didn’t); he certainly could have been painted worse, more Munch than Monet.

Free Solo – 8.5

I’ve awarded the non-Oscar for Best Director of a Documentary to Jimmy Chin for this engaging, gripping drama cum tutorial about Alex Honnold’s obsession to climb El Capitan in Yellowstone without a safety net – e.g., free solo. First, there’s the charming main character, wonderfully ingenuous and open for someone in his position: the best in the world, who calmly and openly faces death for the sake of experiencing perfection. His girlfriend, fortuitously, is easy on the eyes, as well. Second, the director inserts himself and his camera crew discreetly into the film, not to share the glory but to give the viewers a sense of how the amazing photography of Hannold’s ascent is accomplished. They also serve as on-screen stand-ins for us, especially when Mikey Schaefer turns his back, afraid to watch. Third is the dramatic story: how Alex prepared for years for his climb and then pulled it off, in less than four amazing hours. My face was wet with tears, and I felt I’d been through the proverbial wringer by the time we said goodbye to a world we had just discovered.

Fahrenheit 11/9 – 7

Michael Moore has packed four movies, four movies, four movies-in-one, at least! There’s Hillary’s defeat; Flint’s water crisis; the Parkland school shooting; and Trump’s neo-Fascism, at least two of which pick up on earlier Moore films. There’s a ray of hope in the person of four emerging radical candidates for Congress and the West Virginia teachers’ strike, balanced by a discussion with a Yale history professor cautioning that our democracy is not a given. As a coherent movie, this doesn’t score very high, but as a collection of clips that make you alternately sad and outraged, it does the job.

The Sisters Brothers – 5

What a strange movie! The rambling plot could best be described as, A Day in the Life of Two Cold-blooded Gunslingers, c. 1851, Who Happened to be Brothers, Although You Wouldn’t Have Guessed It. The main narrative, the pursuit of an alchemist named Herman, petered out two-thirds of the way; then the climactic High Noon showdown evaporated completely when the target died prematurely of natural causes. What we were left with were some beautiful scenes of the (Spanish) West, some unresolved subplots involving horses and girlfriends, and an unconvincing relationship between the Sisters brothers: hard-as-nail Joaquin Phoenix and soft-as-butter John C. Reilly, neither terribly smart but both apparently impervious to gunfire. When there are three people in the theater, including two of us, at the 8 pm show, you wonder how and why a film like this gets made.

Bad Reputation – 7.5

Who knew that Joan Jett was still rocking? Somehow, despite all the sturm und drang of a typical rock biography – rejection, no respect, getting ripped off, amazing highs of fleeting fame, falling-out with bandmates, etc., etc. – she resisted and survived, not only setting an example but mentoring other female rockers. After the sold-out preview at the Riviera, we were treated to a 2018 sound check with Joan and the Blackhearts pounding out Fresh Start, Cherry Bomb and Bad Reputation like it was 1980. Joan herself was an engaging interviewee, and the other talking heads were generally additive, not duplicative, including Michael J. Fox on Joan’s acting career and (gorgeous) Kristen Stewart on the movie Joan produced about the Runaways. And of course the music, while not quite the Ramones, was worth hearing again.

Lizzie – 7

A beautiful period piece, with visuals of ladies in ruffles straight out of William Merritt Chase, plus a nod to de La Tour and some Sargent. When Bridget is seen on a train to Montana at the end, you realize that there hasn’t been any color or fresh air or distance in any shot that has come before. The film is helped by the fame of its plot: we want to know exactly why and how Lizzie Borden took an axe, etc. And it doesn’t hurt that we are watching Chloe Sevigny and the wondrous Kristen Stewart (who looks about 17) the whole time. While sufficiently engaging, the film doesn’t raise any goosebumps or grab your heart. The characters are without ambiguity – especially the men – and we know what’s coming. And when the job was neatly done…

The Wife – 7

This was shaping up as an excellent study of a marriage, with Glenn Close accommodating herself to the shadow cast by her Nobel Prize-winning husband, but then it took a horribly wrong and totally unnecessary turn that was both totally unbelievable and made us rethink, and doubt, the wonderful characterization that Close had offered before. It didn’t help that the Jonathan Pryce character was presented without redeeming qualities and that the son was introduced mainly for Pryce to be mean to. I don’t see Close winning the rumored Oscar for this, but I will say the movie lends itself to discussion.

Searching – 7.5

The whole film is told by looking at computer, iPhone, TV and other screens, which provides a subsidiary comment on how “we” communicate and even live our lives in this modern age. The story itself is a missing “Gone Girl” mystery, with an intricate puzzle plot that makes sense, except for the speed of the denouement. The central father-daughter relationship could pair with Eighth Grade in a study of difficult adolescence. But what most struck me was the unremarked multi-ethnicity of the cast (as well as the people who made the film): a Korean-American family was presented, without comment, as normal subjects for a missing-girl mystery.