The Outrun (2024): Saoirse Soars

I’ve been a fan and admirer of actress Saoirse Ronan since her starring role in Brooklyn (2015) – filmed when she was just twenty - and she’s been excellent in every leading role that I’ve seen her in since, including Lady Bird (2017) and Little Women (2019) and good in some supporting roles as well, like Ammonite (2020) and the silly Agatha Christie send-up  See How They Run (2022). She was also good as the teen protagonist back in 2011’s Hanna, and in a small but crucial role in Atonement (2007) as well. 

But in her new film, The Outrun, Ronan gives the most dynamic and perhaps best performance of her career – as a young woman named Rona trying to overcome an untethered alcoholic past and find a new life in sobriety. In virtually every scene of the movie, she is astonishing - spellbinding and thoroughly convincing. Through her character’s highest highs and lowest lows, her performance is one hundred percent committed, consistently vivid, luminous and - dare I say it- brilliant. Not that you can see this as a “Performance”.  As in all her best work, Ronan the actress is nowhere to be seen. We just see Rona. 

[Before I proceed, apologies to Ms Ronan for the title of this review. Although it looks cleverly alliterative, that is only because Saoirse looks like it would rhyme with “soars”; but it doesn’t. As we fans know, her name is pronounced sershuh, rhyming with inertia. I just couldn’t help myself.] 

The Outrun is a lightly fictionalized adaptation of the bestselling memoir by Amy Liptrot, who is credited as a co-writer of the screenplay along with the German director of the film Nora Fingscheidt. In other words – a largely true story. It’s set primarily in the remote, sparsely populated Orkney Islands of far Northern Scotland, as well as in London. The narrative is about and from the perspective of Rona. She’s a young Orcadian woman who has recently returned to Orkney after spending a decade in London, where she had gone for a university education and a bigger life than home offered.  Along the way, while she did get her degree (in biology), she was seduced by the party and drinking scene. She also fell in love with Daynin (Paapa Essiedu) a lovely man who loved her back. In the end, though, the downward spiral of alcohol addiction destroyed everything – her ambition, her employability, her relationship, her self-esteem. Eventually, after a violent intoxication-related assault, Rona got into rehab, then opted to leave the whole scene, and return home to start over.   

Films about recovery are not uncommon, of course, but those where the protagonist’s struggle against alcoholism or other addiction is the core of the story, rather than part of a family dysfunction tale or appended onto a police procedural or some other plot, are far fewer. Those where the central character is a young woman like Rona are rare.  And really good ones are rarer still. This is one of those.

[Spoiler alert: the following discussion reveals plot details. These facts will likely melt away before you see the film or will dissolve from your consciousness as soon as the movie gains your attention. But if you prefer to see The Outrun with a largely blank slate, you may wish to skip the next four or five paragraphs.]

It's a tricky business to build a movie character that, in the end, feels like a fully fleshed out, complex human being. In the director’s notes about The Outrun, Fingscheidt explains that with that goal in mind she structured the movie to tell Rona’s story in three interwoven layers. The first is the present, the here-and-now or what she calls the “Orkney-layer”. This is where we initially meet Rona. She’s living in town with her deeply religious mother Annie - Saskia Reeves  [Slow Horses (2022 –  2024)] while helping her bipolar father Andrew - Stephen Dillane [Kaos (2024); The Hours (2002)] - raise sheep on their small family farm nearby, where he lives in an old caravan. The rural Orkney landscape is peaceful and its coastline is spectacular. [Trivia note: several scenes were shot on the actual farm where Liptrot was raised.] But compared to London, the town is dull, there’s no nightlife, and Rona has no friends. Orkney is her Elba. Its emptiness only amplifies her loneliness and lack of direction. Rona thinks maybe she’ll head back to London in another few weeks or months – but to what?   

The second layer is the “London-layer” (seen as flashbacks) which, for a good chunk of the movie, shares nearly equal time with the “present” Orkney-layer.   Rona’s past experiences invade her thoughts frequently: brightly colored memories – from brief flashes to longer, dreamlike reminiscences of the good times: friends, parties, laughs, dancing, falling in love, tender moments with Daynin.  But over time, her recollections turn darker (think blue tinted near-monotone, as in a bad dream) to her heavy drinking and the spiraling descent to the bottom that followed.  

Fingscheidt also refers to a third interwoven aspect, which she calls the “Nerd-layer”.  It is a reflection of Rona’s interiority and innate curiosity, such as her interest in natural biology; in the myriad soulful seals she encounters all along the Orkney coast, and in Orcadian mythology.  In an early voiceover, for example, Rona tells of one local legend that, we later may realize, bears on her own story: the belief that people who have drowned turn into seal-like creatures called Selkies who come ashore during high tides, shedding their seal skins and cavorting joyfully, naked in the moonlight as beautiful people until dawn, then returning to the sea - so long as no humans see them.  If seen, however, they will remain stuck in human form, but always discontented. 

Rona’s nerd self is key to her connection with her bright but damaged dad; and explains her decision to seek a field job with the RSPB (Royal Society for the Protection of Birds) partway through the film. As Fingscheidt intended, it’s a distinguishing piece of Rona that helps us see her as a full person, rather than a “type”. 

Ultimately The Outrun, is about healing a broken life. For all the talk about it-takes-a-village, this ultimately must come from the self. It’s never easy.  As one character who has made the journey explains to Rona: over time, it gets less hard, but it’s always hard. While, of necessity, Rona’s path has been largely solitary, she eventually makes the radical choice to move to an even more isolated place, a small cabin on the Northernmost of the islands, Papay, where she can be truly alone, away from parental judgements and societal pressures or expectations, and self-dependent. 

Cinematically, her struggle is represented visually, audibly and symbolically by the ever-shifting environment in which she is living: the quiet solitude of the island’s treeless, grassy fields or a clear night’s wondrous snowfall, the ever-watchful bay seals on a calm day, the giant ocean waves loudly crashing against steep cliffs and rocky coastline on other days,  the timeworn, wind-carved sea stacks that rise hundred of feet above the surging waters, and the awesomely mighty gales, strong enough to cause the ground to tremble and boom beneath your feet.  This place - captured gorgeously and powerfully by award-winning cinematographer Yunus Roy Imer along with a fabulous sound department – is a major character in the movie and in Rona’s struggle to rediscover herself and, just as important, to appreciate the possibilities a sober life may bring.

Rona is not an archetype.  She’s much more than that – she’s a person that contains multitudes – which may be a cliché but is nonetheless true. We see her this way this, and by the end of The Outrun, Rona herself catches a glimpse of this truth and of the unfolding possibilities ahead.  This an upbeat, hopeful ending - one that has been earned.

It has also been earned by the film production. The lovely supporting performances and sure-footed direction have contributed. And it helps to remember that the character of Rona and her story are based on the very real life experiences of the book’s author / screenplay’s co-author – i.e. this is not make-believe.  Still, in the end, what I am left with is the recognition that this terrific portrait, which feels so credible and so true, owes a great deal to the remarkable Saoirse Ronan. I highly recommend The Outrun.

1 hour 58 minutes

Grade: A

Now playing only in theaters nationwide [opened Friday 10/4/2024], including in the SF Bay Area at  Landmark Opera Plaza and Metreon;  AMC Mercado in Santa Clara and most other AMCs Check HERE to find a theater near you 

Evil Does Not Exist (2023): Enigma in Paradise

by Len Weiler

Evil Does Not Exist is the latest feature film by Japanese director Ryusuke Hamaguchi, his 15th. His previous picture, Drive My Car (2021) was a world-wide phenomenon - the one which put him on the short list of truly notable international auteurs. If you can tolerate a leisurely pace and uncomplicated plot, I recommend it.

Drive My Car was/is a low-key, three-hour long, voluptuously slow*, novelistic**, visually gorgeous, character driven movie centering on a grieving theatrical director and the unexpected bond he forms with the young woman assigned as his driver; a film that explores themes of – among many other things – grief, solitude, and emotional renewal. It was a surprisingly big hit with audiences and critics alike [with a 78% favorable audience rating, and an incredible 97% rating from critics on RottenTomato.com]. In addition to numerous nominations and awards on the film festival circuit, the movie won the Oscar in 2022 for best international feature film and also nominated for best picture of the year, best director, and best screenplay.                                                                [*Diego Semerene, Slant  **Justin Chang, LA Times]

Evil Does Not Exist is a much shorter film at just 104 minutes, yet still with Hamaguchi’s trademark slow pacing and focus on character, rather than action. His style here is in service of a quite different story and broader, more impersonal themes. Perhaps most notably, the movie has a different feel to it – more ominous and unsettling, even as it exalts the natural world. Unlike Drive My Car, which exist in a generally cosmopolitan milieu, Evil Does Not Exist is set largely in a rural community on the edge of a pristine forest. The forest, along with its streams and meadows, its flora and fauna, gets loads of screen time. It is the true star of the movie. Like Drive My Car, the new film has received strongly favorable critical reviews and several awards, including the Grand Jury Prize at the Venice Film Festival, and the award for Best Film at the London Film Festival.  

The human story pits the residents of the little village - a few thousand folks who depend on the natural world and try to live symbiotically with it – against those who see the arboreal landscape as nothing more than a commodity to be exploited for profit. This might suggest at first that the movie will be another of those pictures featuring eco-heroes vs eco-villains. That’s not what Hamaguchi primarily has in mind. 

The film opens with trees – an over four-minute tracking shot of the forest canopy, silhouetted against a cloud grey sky, as seen from the snow-covered ground far below, accompanied by a moody, atmospheric, somewhat ominous instrumental score by composer Eiko Ishibashi (who also composed the music for Drive My Car). Then the music suddenly cuts out, the camera shifts to ground level and we see a young girl, Hana, gazing upward, much like the camera had been, at the top of the trees looming above her. Eventually, she turns and walks along alone toward her home. 

Her dad is Takumi (Hitoshi Omika) a loner handyman-everyman living just inside the woods with Hana, his ten-year-old daughter. Takumi, the first adult character we meet in Evil Does Not Exist, makes his living in a variety of ways: scooping up clear spring water for an esteemed local udon shop, advising neighbors with his forest lore and deep practical knowledge, cutting and selling firewood. 

We hear the harsh, jarring noise of Takumi’s chainsaw through the trees before we actually see him, cutting logs into fireplace lengths. He is practiced and meticulous about this work. After awhile, he walks down to a special place along the nearby creek to gather the crystal clear water for the udon chef, fastidiously ladling it, cup by cup into large jugs. We watch Takumi performing these tasks for several minutes before we see another human being – an employee from the restaurant, who arrives to help with the water gathering. We’re over ten minutes into the film already, and theirs are the first spoken words. Surprisingly, while I was glad to move on at that point, I hadn’t gotten bored at all watching Takumi at work.  

Not long after, Evil Does Not Exist livens up with a tour de force scene introducing us to the town’s residents, humanizing them and recruiting our support for their concerns. It’s a town meeting to discuss a Tokyo company’s plans to build a glamping site on a nearby tract of forest land. Attending the meeting are two city-slicker reps for the developers - a young man, Takahashi, and a young woman, Mayuzumi – with a company powerpoint advertising what a boon the touristic camping site will be to the local economy. The two PR folks likely were expecting a bunch of provincial yokels, but the villagers, Takumi among them - while not antagonistic – turn out to be serious-minded people who raise thoughtful, critical questions. Like, for example, whether the planned location and inadequate capacity of the development’s sole septic tank will endanger the town’s water supply. Or its effect on the forest itself and its wildlife. Takahashi and Mayazumi don’t know anything about such technical details or much at all beyond their given pitch. Nor do they have any negotiating authority. At the end of the meeting, though, they promise to bring the community’s concerns to their bosses.

The bosses are not flexible about their plans in any meaningful way.  Even so, Takahashi and Mayazumi return to the town a short while later, hoping to engage Takumi as a consultant. Along the way – and this is one of the outstanding aspects of Hamaguchi’s filmmaking – we are given a chance to get to know these two a little better, only to discover that they are not one-dimensional corporate lackeys and, in fact, not particularly bad people at all. While certainly naïve, they are well intentioned young people just trying to do a job. The job - as they (and we) come to realize – sets them up as pawns in someone else’s sketchy business scheme. The fact that they were duped does not, however diminish their humanity. As the town meeting did for the local residents, the time we spend with Takahashi and Mayazumi serves to humanize them both in our eyes.

Evil Does Not Exist has a quiet power that grows over its 105 minutes. Throughout Hamaguchi encourages our empathy not just for the human characters in his film, but for the natural world in which the story is set.  David Rooney in The Hollywood Reporter called it “a penetrating study of character and milieu.” Peter Bradshaw in The Guardian described it as “a realist film teetering on the edge of the uncanny.” One of the things that’s uncanny is the sense of personality attributed to nature itself. Another is the quiet suspense that feels tethered to nearly every scene. At some point, you may begin to wonder, as I did, where is this all going?

Everything in Evil Does Not Exist comes down to the surprisingly powerful, enigmatic last few minutes of the film.  Part of its power is the shock of its unexpectedness. It may piss you off or it may beguile you. Or both. Either way, it will be a conversation starter. 

1 hour 46 minutes         In Japanese with English subtitles

Grade: B+

Available to rent [ppv] on Amazon, AppleTV, Fandango at Home and other services

Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice Beetlejuice

 by Len Weiler

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, the sequel to the original Beetlejuice (1988), opened two weeks ago [Friday 9/6/24] and has been the top grossing film in the US every day since.  While moviegoers are eating it up, the critical consensus for the new picture is – well, there’s not much consensus:  On Rotten Tomatoes its critical score is a decent 77%, while the MetaCritic score is a pretty tepid 62.  David Rooney in The Hollywood Reporter enthuses: “The zippy pacing, buoyant energy, and steady stream of laugh out loud moments hint at the joy Burton appears to have found in revisiting this world, and for anyone who loved the first movie, it's contagious.”  Meanwhile, Richard Lawson complains in Vanity Fair that: “[w]ith its limp humor, canned sentiment, and over-egged efforts to gross us out, Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is a waste of a good cast and a defacement of a classic film’s legacy.”

This is a comparison review of both movies.

The original Beetlejuice was the tenth biggest grossing movie of 1988. Made on a budget of about $12 million, it took in $75 million in ticket sales. It also became the mothership for a whole industry of Beetlejuice entertainments: an animated TV series (1989-1991), three video games (early 1990s) and Beetlejuice: The Musical, which opened on Broadway in April 2019  and ran for 11 months before the covid shutdown, then reemerged in 2022 to run for another 9 months.  The critical consensus on the original film was also mixed, but generally more positive than that for the new sequel - Rotten Tomatoes consensus rating: 83%; MetaCritic score: 71.

I recently saw Beetlejuice Beetlejuice at the local cineplex. I wasn’t exactly wowed. The new iteration isn’t terrible, but it isn’t terrific either. It seemed far less remarkable than my remembered impressions from back in the day when I saw the original. But that was over thirty years ago.  So I wondered - would Beetlejuice still seem superior to its sequel if I saw it now?  The simplest way to answer that question was to refresh my recollection by watching the 1988 original the very next day. (And yes, it is stream-able.)

Sometimes, watching a movie I liked a lot as a teen or young adult is disappointing. It is either distressingly dated or, even worse, far less clever, touching, or interesting than what I remembered – a reflection of my youthful naivety or inexperience, perhaps. But other times, thankfully, the experience is just the opposite. This was the case with the 1988 Beetlejuice, which holds up very well indeed despite the passage of decades.  That movie remains remarkably fresh, engaging and just plain fun. Despite tremendous advances in animation and special effects technology over the succeeding years, Beetlejuice comes across as newer, livelier, more whimsical and way funnier than the 2024 sequel.  

Why?  The simple truth is that Beetlejuice was groundbreaking; Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is a retread. It’s trying harder to be faithful to its predecessor than to come up with anything new or reflective of the current era. While it’s true that some sequels are better than the original movies, that is neither the norm nor the case here. This stands to reason, when you think about it. Most sequels  are made within just a few years of the original; it's unusual for a sequel to come three and a half decades after the first picture; rarer still for the later film to be helmed by the same director as the first. And age makes a difference:  Tim Burton was 29 when he made Beetlejuice; now he’s 66.  In the late 80s, he was a whirlwind of energy and ideas and in his most fruitful creative period. Over a nine year period he made and released six of his best, most successful pictures:  Pee Wee’s Big Adventure (1985), Beetlejuice (1988), Batman (1989) - the Michael Keaton, Jack Nicholson version, Edward Scissorhands (1990), Batman Returns (1992), and Ed Wood (1994). Can you name one film Burton has made in the last fifteen years that’s the equal of any of those in spirit, inventiveness or critical success?

Or, let’s compare the roster of actors and performances. Beetlejuice starred a young Alec Baldwin (29) and Geena Davis (31) as a deceased young couple who, as ghosts, are trying to preserve their dream house. Both Baldwin and Davis were up-and-comers at the time. For Baldwin it was his first starring role in a feature film; for Davis it was her second, after The Fly (1986) opposite Jeff Goldblum the year before. Thelma and Louise (1991), which made her famous, was still three years off. They are the protagonists of Beetlejuice – youthful, beautiful, eager, and very much alive on screen (even as ghosts). Neither they nor their characters play any part in Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. 

In the 1988 movie, the ghosts of the recently deceased protagonists hope to scare off a crass couple who want to purchase and remodel their house. They unwittingly engage a ghost/demon who bills himself as an exorcist but is really a chaos agent. This is “Beetlejuice” - brilliantly and manically played by 35-year-old Michael Keaton. The buyers are the Deetzes: scheming, egomaniacal Delia [33-year-old Catherine Ohara (Home Alone, Schitt’s Creek)] and the rather non-descript Charles (Jeffrey Jones). Delia’s goth teenage daughter Lydia [Winona Ryder (then just 14)] is her opposite, and also the only living person who sees the ghosts and sympathizes with them. 

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice was made and is set thirty-six years after the first movie. Although Beetlejuice is supposed to be ageless, he is again played by Keaton, who is still pretty good but whose age (now 71) is nevertheless showing.  Reminded me a bit of watching Robert DeNiro playing Frank Sheeran in The Irishman (2019), as a digitally de-aged 40-year-old chasing another guy and gingerly traversing an expanse of seaside rocks like the 75-year-old the actor really was.  Catherine Ohara (now 67) is back as Delia, similarly aged and in a much-diminished role; and her daughter Lydia (Ryder, now 50) has become the protagonist mom, albeit with the same goth hairdo she sported as a teen, now totally incongruous. As the modern Lydia, Ryder came across to me as stiff and confused – trying unsuccessfully to be two things at once – an adult version of goth teenage Lydia and a caring 50-year-old. mom herself. Lydia’s daughter Astrid [up and coming actress Jenna Ortega (21)] is, like her mother before her, an imperiled teen here. She is also the only significant character in Beetlejuice Beetlejuice - other than Beetlejuice himself (sort-of) – with any spark.       

Beetlejuice had an actual story arc, a crazily grotesque, outlandish yet playful one.  Beetlejuice Beetlejuice has a series of events strung together into a convoluted, tenuous “plot” that never coheres into what could fairly be called a story. It tries over-hard to be offbeat, but we notice the trying, so the product comes across as artificial and overly derivative.  

There is one bright spot to Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, though:  

Speaking very generally, both films have a similar structure. And they both conclude with an elaborate, kitchy, Busby Berkeley-like treatment of a big song from a previous era. In Beetlejuice, it’s the fun, toe-tapping, 1961calypso hit Jump in the Line (Shake, Senora) by Harry Belafonte. Less lively, but way funnier is the extravagantly goofy send up in Beetlejuice Beetlejuice of the Jimmy Webb head scratcher MacArthur Park - the 1968 hit version sung by Richard Harris. This production number is a hoot - almost worth the price of admission. Even in 1968, the song was an anomaly, with its orchestral interludes and melodramatic delivery of the ludicrous lyrics - a ridiculously pompous joke of a song – even though it turned into a top 40 hit. 

    MacArthur's Park is melting in the dark 

    All the sweet, green icing flowing down

    Someone left the cake out in the rain

    I don't think that I can take it

    'Cause it took so long to bake it

    And I'll never have that recipe again

    Oh no!

Why is the rather mediocre Beetlejuice Beetlejuice such a hit?  I don’t know. But I’ll posit a few reasons anyway. Young moviegoers are one to two generations removed from the original Beetlejuice, and many may not have even seen it, so for them it is new.  Plus the younger crowd generally loves spectacle and special effects, and there’s a bunch of that stuff in Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. Also, there’s a dearth of big screen competition recently: the only truly competitive film recently has been Deadpool & Wolverine, released nearly two months before Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, so its box office has begun to fade (although it was still the third highest grossing film last week). Moreover, like I said earlier, this sequel is not terrible. And, obviously, there’s no accounting for taste, right?  

BeetleJuice (1988):

1 hour 32 minutes

Grade: A-

Available to stream free with a subscription to MAX [ or a Disney, Hulu MAX bundle]; available to  rent [pay per view] on many platforms, including Amazon and Apple TV.

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice (2024):

1 hour 45 minutes

Grade: B- 

 Currently widely available in theaters. 

32 Sounds (2023): Curious. Wondrous. Lovely.

by Len Weiler

“Experience a film like you’ve never heard before.”  So goes the tagline for the somewhat under-the-radar movie 32 Sounds. And it’s not a bad introduction to what, in my experience, is a film unlike any other.  For one thing, as the title suggests it is an exploration of sound – specifically its profound effect in and on our lives; and, as the tagline promises, the movie is quite an experience. 32 Sounds immerses you in its topic like no other movie.

First publicly screened at the 2022 Sundance Film Festival, this documentary has since shown at numerous festivals, large and small. But it has never had a commercial theatrical run, as far as I can tell. In fact, given the limitations of speaker systems in most theaters, the film has been specifically designed for home viewing.  And, good news, it is stream-able on several platforms (see below). The best way to take in 32 Sounds, the director Sam Green tells us, is wearing headphones - which also means, for most of us, being alone.  

Part of the reason to isolate is so you can fully concentrate on and appreciate what you are hearing without  distractions. Another reason for the headphones in some instances is to emphasize how sound changes depending on our spatial relationship to the source, which is difficult to mimic on most speaker systems, but can work pretty well with headphones. Indeed, in some places in the film, the screen is blanked – to further focus your attention on the audio content and to best demonstrate the spatial aspect of noise. It's a wonder how – even with our eyes closed - we can not only discern which direction a sound is coming from but its proximity to us as well! 

Our ability to hear has practical advantages, to be sure. Top among them are aural communications like speech; as well as awareness of danger, whether from the growl of a predator, the rumble of oncoming vehicles, or from human enemies: the whoosh of an arrow, the explosions of gunfire, the clank of armor or the footsteps of an approaching army. But sound also enriches our lives in innumerable ways. Rhythm, music, a soothing voice, distant street sounds, snippets of a distant conversation, a crackling fireplace, and the sounds of nature: rain, leaves rustling in a breeze, a bubbling stream, birdsong, and on and on.    

We all know this, obviously, but 32 Sounds provides an opportunity to reflect on something absolutely marvelous that we typically take for granted much of the time. Not just the sounds themselves but our ears’ near miraculous ability to so perfectly translate the noises in the air into electrical signals that our brains just as miraculously can instantly translate and discern as train whistles, footsteps, cat purrs, a particular song or what have you.

Sam Green is an award-winning documentarian [The Weather Underground (2002), A Thousand Thoughts(2018)]. After a silly yet ingratiating opening scene with Green and his composer buddy JD Samson rehearsing an intro to the movie, we are presented with sound number one. Fittingly, it is the first sound a human embryo hears and that all of us heard in the womb. Green's soft voice invitingly narrates. Some sections of 32 Sounds, including that first sound, are sweetly evocative. Another early segment is evocative in a different, and even more poignant way; it’s the very last surviving moho bracatus – a now extinct Hawaiian bird species – recorded  futilely singing his mating call.  Another chapter includes a discussion of “ghost voices”, the voices of loved ones that are no longer with us - mom, dad, a favorite grandparent, an old friend – which we can still sort-of conjure up and almost, but not quite hear in our heads. There is a viscerally stimulating section devoted to the “80 cycle”: the deep throbbing bass sounds in music, that at full volume rattles windows, shakes the floor, and drives us to get up and dance our hearts out. I especially enjoyed a couple of segments featuring demonstrations, by Foley artist Joanna Fang, of the art of creating the sounds which are added to films post-production to enhance dramatic effects: punches, falling trees, gunshots, screeching tires, footsteps, you name it.   

All of this done with a light cinematic touch that has been described as poetic. I found 32 Sounds fascinating on many levels and always engaging.  I loved how personal it felt – largely thanks to the headphones but also the way Green seemed to be speaking directly to me one-on-one. Because the film does not have a single overarching narrative, it’s easy to watch it over two or three sessions, without reducing its impact or value. 

At its conclusion, 32 Sounds tells us that it was “inspired by Thirty Two Short Films About Glenn Gould (1993) by François Girard, which was in turn inspired by The Goldberg Variations by Johann Sebastian Bach (1741).” I’m not altogether sure why that’s of particular importance to us, but I do note that those works are also easily severable so that they, too, can be taken in over several sittings. Very convenient. Antecedents aside,  32 Sounds is an unusual, worthwhile, quite extraordinary experience. I don’t often do this, but to give you a little flavor, here’s a link to the movie’s trailer: 32 Sounds trailer

This is an interesting, life affirming film, and I encourage you to check it out.

1 hour 35 minutes

Grade: B+

Available free with a subscription to The Criterion Channel; or to rent on Amazon, AppleTV and other pay-per-view platforms 

The 2024 Half Oscars™: Lots of Good Stuff

By Larry Lee

The Fourth of July has come and gone, meaning it is time for my annual Half Oscars™ awards.  While I know so many of you, dear readers, refrain from seeing movies in theaters and instead prefer to stream movies at home (no judgment here), I assure you that all of the movies herein considered and appearing on the list below, I saw in the theaters.  Perhaps one day I will by necessity include streaming-only movies; seeing them at home is, after all, better than not seeing them at all.   But for now, I am including only those movies I actually saw in theaters, old school fashion.  Were the rule otherwise, it would be but a short step to including TV series.  Nothing wrong with that, but this list is about movies, not TV shows.  [In fact, all of the films in my top 10 are now available for at-home viewing and, for your convenience, I note at least one streaming platform (although there may be others as well) after the title of each picture on the list.]

Rather randomly, I have declined to include movies originally released last year (2023) that were submitted in the International Film category for consideration in this year’s Oscars, although only released into U.S. theaters or for streaming in 2024.  These include the very worthy Io Capatani (from Italy), The Taste of Things (from France, starring Juliette Binoche), Shayda (from Australia).  I strongly recommend all three movies.  All can be rented on Amazon Prime. [Note: highlighted titles provide a link to film reviews previously posted on NotesOnFilms.]

The first six months of 2024 produced many interesting and engaging movies, suggesting the movie industry is thriving.  Despite all the gloom and doom in the mainstream press about the movie business, and even aside from Pixar’s Inside Out 2 ($1.5 billion as of this writing), to find a movie that entertains, uplifts, or opens a door to our understanding of ourselves or the world is not at all hard.  Although they didn’t make my top ten, movies such as Challengers (about professional tennis, starring Zendaya), Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes (the latest installment in the long-running series), Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga (ditto, starring Anya Taylor-Joy and Chris Helmsworth) and The Dead Don’t Hurt (a western starring Viggo Mortensen and Vicky Krieps) were all quite entertaining in an old-fashioned sort of way.  Similarly, I enjoyed being transported to another time in Young Woman and the Sea (New York, around 1920), Firebrand (Tudor England), The Bikeriders (Chicago, 1960), and The Boys in the Boat (1936 Berlin Olympics).  And I enjoyed having my brain challenged by such odd and offbeat movies like Problemista, I Saw the TV Glow, Tuesday (with Julia Louis-Dreyfus), and—yes—even the very odd Sasquatch Sunset.  You will definitely see some things you have never seen on film if you watch these movies.  

But on to the Top Ten:

10.  Driving Madeleine  (Amazon Prime rental)  (released in Belgium in 2022, but released in the USA in 2024)  This one flew under the radar but was a thoroughly enjoyable look back on a life well-lived.  The film introduces us to Madeleine, played by famous French actress Line Renaud, on the cusp of an important transition point in her life:  she must move from the home she has occupied for decades and move to an assisted living facility.  As her taxi driver, played by Danny Boon, drives her across Paris, the memories come flooding back and the flashbacks tell the story of her complicated life.  A special kind of relationship grows between cabbie and rider, as each gains an appreciation of the other.  Emotionally satisfying, and the most unexpected use of a blowtorch ever seen in a movie. 

9.  Bob Marley:  One Love  (Paramount+, Amazon Prime rental)  Music biopics are notoriously difficult to get right, no doubt because, for those artists who were famous sometime in the last 75 years or so, many of us have our own memories of them, remember what they looked like and how they sounded.  (I’ve always thought this was the secret sauce of 1984’s Amadeus; after all, we don’t know what Mozart was really like.)  The upcoming movie about Bob Dylan, A Complete Unknown, starring Timothée Chalamet in the lead role, looks promising from its trailer but will surely test the patience of Baby Boomers (and Chalamet haters).  Similarly, the recent Amy Winehouse biopic (Back to Black) was just so-so.  In some ways, it is better if the lead doesn’t look too much like the real person, like when Paul Dano and Edward Norton both played Brian Wilson of the Beach Boys in 2014’s Love and Mercy.  Admittedly Jamie Foxx as Ray Charles (Ray, 2004), Joaquin Phoenix as Johnny Cash (Walk the Line, 2005) and Val Kilmer as Jim Morrison (The Doors, 1991) were fabulous.  So too Kingsley Ben-Adir as Bob Marley is terrific in Bob Marley: One Love, communicating the talent, commitment, and charisma of the reggae superstar.  The film elides some of the more unsavory aspects of Marley’s life, such as his serial philandering, but admirably communicates his personal charm and the excitement of his live performances.  The film also fairly portrays the time with fashion, hairstyles, and Jamaican patois all ringing true.  A nice look back.

8.  Golden Years (currently streaming on Amazon Prime)  This Swiss movie, made in 2022 but released in the U.S. in 2024, is another worthy film that has flown far, far under the radar.  Although likely designed for oldsters, this is no 80 For Brady-type farce (though it is quite funny), and there is potential interest here for all ages.  The movie asks whether we are willing to set aside Western society’s expectation and preference for traditional intimate relationships in order to live a happy life?  Funny, unpredictable, and full of detours, this entertaining movie begins as a comedy based on the foibles of old people, but then takes some twists and turns leading the viewer to ask some deeper questions.  Such as:  When you feel closer to the end of the race rather than the beginning, what fundamental changes to your life are you willing to make in order that your final years will be happy and fulfilling.  Gentle and funny.  In German. 

7.  Hit Man (Netflix)  This movie was the beneficiary of a good degree of pre-release publicity, based on its lead, the new next-big-thing Glen Powell (Top Gun: Maverick, Anyone But You, the just-released Twisters) and the movie’s director, Richard Linklater (Boyhood, the Before Sunrise trilogy, School of Rock).  As it turns out, the publicity was not empty hype: the movie is a blast:  quirky, funny, fresh, snappy, with appealing leads (Powell and newcomer Adria Arjona).  Powell plays Gary Johnson, a college philosophy professor recruited by police to play a hitman in order to gather evidence in murder-for-hire cases.  It is a funny enough premise, as we see the variety of lowlife losers he encounters who are willing to pony up to have their partners whacked.  But pay attention when he gets back to his real job, as his philosophical lectures about the true nature of self and whether actions or intentions define a person dovetail perfectly into the plot of the movie.  Powell makes a slow but steady conversion from nerd to hottie, and Arjona’s Madison Figueroa is a twist on the traditional femme fatale.  Is she guilty of killing her husband, or just a babe in the woods?  The movie keeps us just a little off balance, to the point where I doubt you will be able to predict how Linklater resolves the intricate puzzle of a movie plot.  

6.  Dune: Part Two (Max, Amazon Prime rental)  It may be hard to recall the details of this epic movie, both because it was released so much earlier this year (March 1, 2024), but also because it was so full of detail.  But this sequel to (really just the second part of ) 2021’s Dune, Part One completes the epic Dune saga, at least for now.  (The author, Frank Herbert, wrote five sequels to his original novel, and his son wrote two final novels based on his father’s notes, as well as some prequel novels.)  Timothée Chalamet plays the surviving scion of the historic House of Atreides, and continues his long journey from double-crossed heir-apparent to revenge-inspired resistance fighter to corrupted and false religious messiah.  Chalamet is terrific as he navigates the various (and seemingly never-ending) perils that stand in his way.  If science fiction is not your bag, then perhaps give this a miss, but as the movie is based on the most famous and decorated novel of this major literary genre, consider giving it a chance.  Against the odds, director Denis Villeneuve has brought this epic story to the screen, and does it with intelligence, nuance, and verve.  Quite an accomplishment.  Moreover, the various themes in the story—fighting over scarce resources, elites who are not to be trusted, a lucrative extractive industry, manipulating the masses by appealing to their religious beliefs and sense of grievance—are not so far from the problems we have today.  Indeed, one might argue they are spot on.  And this is the only movie this year with giant sand worms.

5.  Wicked Little Letters (Amazon Prime rental)  If you are not yet a Jessie Buckley fan (Wild Rose, Judy, I’m Thinking of Ending Things, The Lost Daughter, Men, Women Talking), well, now is the time to join the bandwagon.  Here she reunites with her The Lost Daughter co-star, Oscar winner Olivia Coleman (2018’s The Favourite), to produce the type of polished gem of a historical movie that the British seem to churn out with regularity.  Prim, religious, and mousy Edith Swan (Coleman) has been receiving anonymous letters full of, well, filthy and wicked language.  (What was considered filthy in those olden days is rather funny to our ears today.)  Evidence seems to point to her noisy, uninhibited neighbor, Rose Gooding (Buckley), who clearly is no stranger to such vulgar language, judging by her interactions around town.  She also seems to have a beef with Swan.  But is that enough evidence to send Rose to prison?  Where is the due process?  Although you might be able to suss out the mystery, getting there is more than half the fun.  And watching Buckley and Coleman inhabit their characters is quite satisfying.  

4.  The Old Oak (Amazon Prime rental)  Nothing artificial here, just a timely story told in a realistic manner, by veteran director Ken Loach (I, Daniel Blake; Sorry We Missed You), who announced this would be his final film.  (He’s 88 years old.)  As in his other films, Loach is acutely sensitive to the problems of the abused and abandoned working class in England.  Here, as in many other films, a coal mine (or colliery) was vitally important to a local village and when it closed down, the entire area became financially and even culturally impoverished.  The town is just getting by, people are moving away if they can, and the one solace for the locals is The Old Oak, the neighborhood pub.  Hard feelings are produced, however, when the British government decides to move some Syrian refugees into town.  Sure, there’s racism, xenophobia, and widespread class issues, but Loach handles it all with sensitivity and a huge dose of realism.  As Rodney King said, seemingly so long ago (it was 1992), “can’t we all get along?”    

3.  One Life  (Amazon Prime rental)  This one starts small and then hits like a sledgehammer.  Based on a true story, the movie tells the story of a seemingly ordinary yet utterly remarkable man, whose achievements during WWII, while he was still a young man and just starting out in his career as a stockbroker, were lost to the mists of time for many years.  Until, suddenly, they weren’t.  And then, like a tsunami, the truth comes rushing in and the emotions overflow.  By the end, your eyes will fill, your upper lip may quiver, and you may be left wondering what you have accomplished in your own life.  No spoilers here, but this one is well worth your time.  

2. Origin  (stream on Hulu, Amazon Prime rental)  Director Ava DuVernay was justly celebrated for her 2014 breakout movie Selma, a moving depiction of Dr. King’s efforts in 1965 to organize the march from Selma to Montgomery, Alabama.  Her career arc has meandered a bit since then, with the admirable but somewhat unfocused 13th in 2016, and the disappointing A Wrinkle in Time (2018) for Disney.  But she comes all the way back (for me, at least) with Origin, a thoughtful, creative adaptation of Isabel Wilkerson’s best-selling 2020 book, Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents.  Although it sometimes feels like a documentary (and that’s part of the point here), DuVernay expertly weaves together the ideas from the book with Wilkerson’s own life, producing a hybrid piece of filmmaking that feels part narrative, part documentary.  Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor, who appeared in the recent musical version of The Color Purple and was nominated for Best Supporting Actress in 2021’s King Richard (playing Venus and Serena Williams’ mother), is wonderful as author Wilkerson.  The movie was released in January, suggesting the studio (Neon) had little faith in it.  The January release also made it easy for viewers to overlook it.  Whether you agree with Wilkerson’s premise or not (e.g., that racism in American is better understood in the context of caste—social stratification—that occurs all over the world and throughout human history), the movie will likely lead you to examine your own views on the subject, as well as admire Wilkerson’s (and DuVernay’s) willingness to set aside their own preconceptions and search for a greater truth in the world.  

1.  Civil War (Amazon Prime rental)  How should we react if a president doesn’t leave office, suppresses civil dissent, co-opts the Department of Justice, the judiciary, and the U.S. Military?  How would you react?  In this amazing (and, hopefully, not prescient) movie, director Alex Garland (Men, Annihilation, Ex Machina) gives us an idea of what our world would look like in those circumstances.  Many of the critical background facts of the story are revealed only obliquely or even not at all, so we don’t really know why California and Texas seceded from the United States and joined together to form an army called The Western Forces to fight the rest of the country.  But it is enough to learn that it happened.  The story instead focuses on Lee (Kirsten Dunst), a war photographer, and Joel (Wagner Moura), a journalist, as they attempt to make their way from New York City to Washington D.C. to interview and photograph the President (Nick Offerman), who we learn is in his third term.  But the Interstate 95 corridor has been decimated by war, requiring them to detour into Pennsylvania and West Virginia, where they get an up close and personal look at how the civil war has affected people in the country.  But as we all found out in other times of disaster and unrest, the beast that lives inside many of us can easily escape if we are not diligent in maintaining respect for all people and do the hard work to ensure peace and prosperity in our country.  Witness Hurricane Katrina.  The Watts Riots.  Kent State.  Central High School in Little Rock.  And more recently, Charlottesville.  And January 6th at the Capitol.  This movie is sometimes hard to watch, contains violence of a very real sort (i.e., not cartoon or superhero violence), but is important and fascinating.  And it is destined to become a classic.  Recommended.

Also worth a look:

Aside from these top ten movies, and assuming you are not in the mood for talking apes or George Miller’s post-apocalyptic maniacal craziness, these three small movies are worthy of your time.  They were mostly released in June 2024, were just recently in theaters, and some are expensive to stream as of this writing, but look for the rental price to drop in a few weeks,   

Ghostlight  (Amazon rental).  Tired of Shakespeare?  I know, I know!  I mean, how many more times in our life will we have to deal with the output of The Bard of Avon?  Well, maybe just one more time, for this touching movie shows how acting (and Shakespeare) can have an amazingly therapeutic, even life-changing effect on even the most well-defended psyche.  And sometimes, we just need some help getting past the trauma we have experienced in our life.  So maybe, just maybe, Romeo and Juliet can help with that.   

Touch  (AppleTV)  I don’t know what the title means here, but how many Icelandic-Japanese love stories have you seen?  The movie asks this question:  If you truly and deeply loved someone 50 years ago, and then they suddenly disappeared from your life with no explanation, is it too late to try and find her?  Can you ever get closure? 

Daddio  (Amazon, AppleTV) This one, unlike the previous two, has recognizable stars.  Two, exactly, because Sean Penn (as the cab driver) and Dakota Johnson (as the rider) are the only two in the movie.  We have not seen Penn in awhile, so readers may be forgiven if they have forgotten that he is one of our country’s most decorated actors, having won Oscars for Milk (2008) and Mystic River(2003).  He was also nominated for I Am Sam (2001), Sweet and Lowdown (2000), and Dead Man Walking (1996).  He hasn’t been in anything commensurate with this impressive resumé since Milk, so perhaps he should find a new agent.  In Daddio, we have peak Sean Penn, with his impressive acting chops on full display.  Dakota Johnson, by contrast, has worked diligently to rise about her Fifty Shades career start, with creditable recent performances in smaller profile movies, such as Bad Times at the El Royale (2018), The Peanut Butter Falcon (2019), and The Lost Daughter (2012), all of which I recommend.  She surprises in Daddio, persuasively conveying the brittle bravado of a person who has carved out a life for herself after suffering a difficult upbringing.  But she still has some life lessons to learn.  Is a random cab driver a good teacher?

Thelma (2024): Plucky Lady

              by Len Weiler

A decade or so ago, I began to describe a relatively new genre of films – namely, movies specifically designed to get baby-boomers to lean forward and (hopefully) take notice - as “boomer-porn”. I didn’t yet use this term back in 2012 when I reviewed a prime example of this genre, The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, but my opening remarks describe the flavor of the concept pretty well:

         “If you are an inveterate fan of Masterpiece Theater and other high end BBC programming shown on PBS, congratulations! You've become a target audience, and … Marigold Hotel is aimed right at you. It's got a great cast of [older] A-list stars, an A-list director, and an exotic locale. Indeed, [it] is a pleasant bit of fluffy entertainment …”. 

As in that quote, the term boomer-porn can be used somewhat pejoratively, to denote an okay picture with low aspirations. Such as Downton Abbey (2019), Downton Abbey: A New Era (2022), and the forthcoming Downton Abbey 3 (2024), all capitalizing on the long running BBC series. Going farther back, examples include Driving Miss Daisy (1989) and Something’s Gotta Give (2003). But why not describe better-than-okay films aimed at the same demographic with the boomer-porn label? Titles like Quartet or Amour, both from 2012; Philomena (2013); Two of Us [orig. Deux] (2019) or last year’s The Miracle Club come to mind – not necessarily great movies but aiming a little higher and, in fact, a notch or two better than the previous examples.

The film I’m discussing today, Thelma, has just been released in theaters and for pay-per-view on select streaming platforms [see below].. It stars 94-year-old June Squibb, who is best known for her memorable role as no-nonsense Kate Grant in Nebraska (2013), for which she was nominated for an Oscar.  She is the titular character of Thelma, which amazingly is her first role starring in a motion picture. She is the most obvious factor elevating this movie above the “just okay” level.  But not the only one.  

The story in a nutshell: Thelma is a 93-year-old lady determined to continue living independently. Despite her age and a few difficulties navigating an increasingly digital environment, she is plucky and pretty damn sharp. While she is philosophical about it, it’s mighty frustrating that so many of her friends and contemporaries have passed on. A bit lonely, too. Her daughter and son-in-law (Parker Posey and Clark Gregg) worry about Thelma; they would like her to move into assisted living, but she’s not having it. Their adult son, Daniel (Fred Hechinger), hasn’t found his calling in life – or a real job – but he keeps a protective eye on his grandma, drives her around on errands, and is eager to help her out whenever needed. 

One day, Thelma gets defrauded out of $10K by a guy on the phone pretending to be Daniel. The police can’t help, so she decides to take matters into her own hands to get her money back.  Knowing her family would object, she enlists her old friend Ben - who IS in an assisted living program – to help (a lovely Richard Roundtree [Shaft (1971), in his final role], because Ben is the proud owner of a brand new, bright red, electric elder-scooter. And so the adventure begins. Along the way, of course, Thelma and Ben have to deal with a number of unexpected difficulties – which are mostly played for laughs. 

Thelma is the first feature written and directed by Josh Margolin. based on an actual incident where his own grandma, also named Thelma (who’s still going at age 103, by the way) got conned out of money in a similar fashion. The story, presented in a light, easygoing manner, is not complicated, and Margolin moves it along at a nice clip.  Even so, there are some interesting twists and a few wryly amusing peeks at the idiosyncratic dynamics within Thelma’s worried family - all of which helps round out the tale and keep things interesting. Margolin has clearly spent a fair amount of time with elderly folks and teasingly, yet fondly, includes a few gags about forgetfulness, cluelessness, and such.  It’s all in warm-hearted fun. 

All of the supporting characters – while mere sketches - are well acted.  This includes Harvey, a malevolent but far from scary character played by Malcolm McDowell, 50+ years beyond his performance as Alex in A Clockwork Orange (1971). See what I mean, boomers?

So, yes – boomer-porn.  Thelma is not a classic, but nonetheless is a well-played, well-made, sweet motion picture and quite an enjoyable way to spend an evening. Especially if you’re in the mood for a smile.

1 hour 38 minutes Rated PG-13 [some strong language]

Grade: B+

Currently in select theaters – to find a theater near you, click HERE; also available to rent (or purchase) on AppleTV, Fandango At Home, Amazon Prime Video, Verizon FIOS and other platforms. 

Bad Shabbos (2024): Even God Must Be Laughing!

by Len Weiler

Comically screwed-up family get-togethers have been around forever. Films like You Can’t Take It With You (1938), Father of the Bride (1950), Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner (1967), La Cage Aux Folles (1978), Meet the Parents (2000), Death At a Funeral (2007) and How About Adolf [orig. Der Vorname] (2018) tend to make the viewer cringe and laugh in more-or-less equal measure. Or, for an extreme recent example (on TV), there’s the Barzatto family Christmas fiasco which Carmy vividly recalls in the “Fishes” episode of The Bear (season 2). 

Still, you’d be hard-pressed to come up with a funnier family gathering scenario than the one in the new movie Bad Shabbos. The movie is a complete, unabashed hoot!

As the title suggests, Bad Shabbos. involves a contemporary Jewish family gathering for a special Friday evening Shabbat dinner at an Upper West Side Manhattan home. The extended family (all adults, more or less) starts with Ellen [Kyra Sedgwick] and Richard [David Paymer] - eccentric in a clichéd yet still amusing New York Jewish way. Joining them are their three grown children: the eldest son, David (Jon Bass), along with his shiksa fiancée Meg [Meghan Leathers]; daughter Abby [Milana Vayntraub] and her scumbag boyfriend Ben [Ashley Zuckerman], whom all - including Abby herself – wish would just disappear; and the youngest, 17-year-old disappointment Adam, an awkward loner still living with his parents, while dreaming of joining the IDF.

Meg has been trying very hard to ingratiate herself into David’s family, and particularly with her resistant future mother-in-law, going so far as to take Judaism lessons in order to convert. Shabbat evenings with David’s family are always fraught, but this one is especially so. Not just for Meg; everyone, especially Ellen, is nervous.  Why is this night different from all the other nights? Because tonight, Meg’s very white-bread, straight-laced Christian parents, John [John Bedford Lloyd] and Beth [Catherine Curtin] – who’ve flown in from Wisconsin just for the occasion – are coming to meet David’s family for the very first time. Everything must be perfect. 

You know the adage about the best laid plans? This is pretty much a screwball comedy, but even by the wacky parameters of that genre, the term “awry” doesn’t really cover what happens next. Shortly before John and Beth’s anticipated arrival, there’s an accidental (and messy) homicide on the premises, thanks to Adam. For most folks in this situation, the next steps would be clear – call the police, call off the dinner, etc.   But, of course, cogent thinking is not the name of the game in a comedy. Rather, in order to protect Adam, it’s decided to just cover things up and proceed with the evening as if nothing has happened. But in addition to cleaning up the mess (which, thankfully, we are not shown), they have to surreptitiously dispose of the body – not so easy in a NY apartment building. Violating the common understanding of surreptitious, they quickly enlist the help of the building’s savvy and genial doorman, Jordan [Method Man (of Wu Tang Clan fame) in a terrific performance] – to no avail.  

You can imagine how all this is gonna go – a rash of increasingly foolish decisions with ever more hilarious complications, like a rib-tickling boulder rolling down hill.  By the time John and Beth do arrive, the mayhem is so far underway, there’s no way that it’s going to go well. The trainwreck is every bit as crazy-funny as what went before.

To the filmmakers’ credit, the side-splitting hilarity of Bad Shabbos never lets up all the way through to the cute, unexpected epilogue. What’s fascinating to me is that said filmmakers:  writer-director Daniel Robbins, co-writer Zack Weiner and producer Adam Mitchell – all young guys with relatively little prior movie-making experience – have been able to put together such a riotous gem of a comedy.  The script, the pacing, the facial takes and double takes, and the acting in general - all are exquisite. 

This is a picture to watch in a theater if you get the chance, or at least with a group of other people. When I saw it – with a Tribeca audience that included scores of people associated in one way or another with the film – the laughter started about five or ten minutes in and continued pretty much nonstop all the way through. But this was no fluke. Bad Shabbos won the 2024 Audience Award as best fiction film of the festival.

As this is written, to the best of my knowledge, Bad Shabbos has not yet been picked up by a major distribution company. But it will be.  Currently, it is being featured at the upcoming San Francisco Jewish Film Festival (see below). If you are in the SF Bay Area, and like to laugh, go see it. You don’t need to be Jewish. Otherwise keep an eye out for it at other upcoming such festivals. I’ll try to update this post if/when Bad Shabbos goes into general distribution. 

1 hour 24 minutes

Grade: A

Screening at the SF Jewish Film Festival on July 20, 2024 in SF and on August 2 in Oakland.  Tickets available here.  Not yet in general distribution.