Dark Matter, on Apple TV+

Somewhere in the multiverse, there must be an alternate Chicago that is a safe, peaceful city, with high-performing schools and a thriving economy. Obviously, that is not the Chicago of our universe. It is not Jason Dessen’s Chicago either, but he is definitely trying to find it again, to reunite with his wife and son—the ones he knows. Dessen’s unwilling odyssey through the multiverse unfolds in creator Blake Crouch’s 9-episode Dark Matter, adapted from his original novel, which premieres today on Apple TV+.

Instead of becoming Richard Feynman, Dessen married Daniela Vargas and had his moody teenaged son, Charlie. It was worth it, but sometimes he wonders what might have been. The other Jason Dessen does not have to wonder. He became a hot shot physicist who built the “box” that serves as a portal between parallel universes, but he envies our Dessen’s happy family life. Consequently, he kidnaps the Dessen viewers identify with, marooning him in his own universe, so he can replace “our” Dessen with his family.

Despite his new wealth, Dessen desperately wants to return to his family, once he figures out why his life is suddenly so radically different. Amanda Lucas, the alternate Dessen’s lover and co-worker agrees to help him escape their industrialist boss, but navigating the box is a tricky endeavor. The first few doors they open nearly lead to disastrous consequences.

The box is a very cool riff on Schrodinger that sort of symbolically puts those who enter into super-position, with the help of psychotropic drugs. It is complicated to explain, but it represents some nifty speculative science fiction. Unfortunately, the characters are not nearly as interesting. In fact, they are mostly a rather annoying assembly of dull, joyless neurotics. That definitely includes Dessen—all of them.

That human factor definitely matters. It is ironic that we need to make that point regarding Dark Matter, since that is ostensibly the whole point of the series. The notable exception would be Jennifer Connelly’s various performances as the multi-Vargas Dessens. She has the most opportunities to play variations on her character, which she fully capitalizes on. Each multi-verse Daniela is recognizably similar, yet distinctive in her own ways.

Gringo: South of the Border Farce, with a Body Count

Apparently, smoking marijuana takes too much effort for Millennials. If only they could just pop a pill and be done with it. As it just so happens, Harold Soyinka’s dodgy pharma company has developed exactly such a product in its ultra-sketch lab south of the border. A lot of tough customers would like to get their hands on a sample. As a result, this will be a very bad time to fake an abduction, but Soyinka always had bad timing. However, the drastic turn of events just might have a liberating effect on the trod-upon worker drone in Nash Edgerton’s Gringo (trailer here), which opens today in New York.

Soyinka starts out as an early Walter Mitty, putting up with his exploitative boss, Richard Rusk, because he condescendingly pretends they are friends. Yet, Rusk has secretly seduced Soyinka’s grasping wife Bonnie, who is on the verge of leaving her sad sack husband. That does not sit well with Elaine Markinson, Rusk’s corporate co-president and possessive lover. Having gotten wind of an impending merger, Soyinka tries to fake his own abduction, but it will be more convenient for Rusk if his supposed pal is killed down there. That is really bad O. Henry-esque news for Soyinka, especially when he is kidnapped for real.

It is just one darned thing after another for Soyinka. Things will look up when he is ostensibly rescued by Rusk’s merc-turned-social worker brother Mitch, but he is still in more danger than he realizes. At least he rather enjoys crossing paths with Sunny, an American tourist who might be even more naïve than he is. However, her drug mule boyfriend Miles is up to his snide neck in a scheme to smuggle out some of Rusk’s pot pills.

Gringo is about a millimeter deep, but screenwriters Anthony Tambakis & Matthew Stone pack each second with a plot reversal or a violent bit of slapstick humor. Edgerton cranks the pace up to warp speed and the spritely upbeat soundtrack takes the rough edge off a lot of the cartel violence. At times, it comes perilously close to becoming a Ben Stiller parody of Sicario, but poor Soyinka’s peril is always quite real and pressing.

Indeed, Gringo showcases David Oyelowo as we have never seen him before—as a cringy doormat. Sometimes, he is just hard to take. On the other hand, it is jolly good fun to watch Charlize Theron vamp it up as the emasculating Markinson. Joel Edgerton also oozes slime as Rusk. Frankly, Sharlto Copley is almost too charismatic for the ethically ambiguous Mitch Rusk, albeit in a weird way, but Amanda Seyfried is appealingly sweet and earnest. In contrast, Harry Treadaway’s Miles is perhaps the most abrasive character in a film overflowing with duplicitous sociopaths.

Much has been made of Paris Jackson’s film debut in Gringo, but keep in mind she has maybe two minutes of screen time in what amounts to a cameo. Nevertheless, she shows some promising screen presence and on-the-beat comedic delivery. Viewers will laugh during the film and leave feeling satisfied with the pay-offs, but a year from now, probably the only thing most folks will remember would be Theron cranking up the femme fatale dials to eleven—but that is something. Recommended as a screwball diversion, Gringo opens today (3/9) in New York, at multiple theaters, including the AMC Empire.

Bright: Will Smith Comes to Netflix

Welcome to a post-racial alternate universe, but human nature still really isn’t so different. In this modern-day fantasy world, all mankind stands unified in their contempt for orcs and their jealousy for elves. Class distinctions are more stratified than ever, but even though we are mere mortals, we stand firmly in the middle, because the orcs threw their lot in with the Dark Lord way back when. They will never shake that scarlet letter, not even when one of their own joins the thin blue line. Daryl Ward does not like orcs any better than the next fellow, but he is stuck riding with Nick Jakoby, mismatched buddy-cop style in David Ayer’s Bright (trailer here), which premieres today on Netflix.

Ward was not exactly thrilled to partner with an orc in the first place, but he is even less so after getting shot by an orc thug, whom he suspects Jakoby deliberately let slip away. There is not a lot of trust there, even though Jakoby is desperately trying to make nice. Unfortunately, a clique of crooked cops wants Ward to set up his partner. Orc or no orc, that kind of dirty business does not sit well with Ward, but they leave little choice. However, the stakes really start to rise when Ward and Jakoby respond to a call involving magic.

According to screenwriter Max Landis’s system of magic, only “Brights” can wield magic wands. Of course, over 99% of such magic users are elves, but occasionally there is a human Bright. Sorry orcs, next time don’t side with the Dark Lord. As it happens, this might be the next time. Lialeh, the leader of the evil elf clan known as the Infirni aspires to raise the infernal overlord, but her wand was stolen by her remorseful protégé, Tikka. Now there is a mad scramble amongst all LA’s unsavory elements to recover the wand, which really doesn’t make sense, because if any non-Bright touches it, they will basically get atomized. You’d think they’d at least bring some oven mitts from home.

Bright is not the dumpster fire many critics are making it out to be, but it is safe to say internal logic is not its strong suit. On the other hand, Landis creates a compelling mythology, which he establishes without lines and lines of clunky expositional dialogue. Yet, on your third hand, there is no denying Bright gets clumsy and didactic driving home its admittedly well-meaning message of tolerance. We just so get it, after having our noses rubbed in it, six or seven times.

Regardless of all that, Joel Edgerton does some of his best work to date, despite the layers of orc prosthetics, as the painfully earnest Jakoby. It is a shockingly soulful performance, capturing the all the lonely alienation of an orc rejected by his own kind and despised by the rest of the world. In contrast, Will Smith never pushes himself the least little bit as Ward. He seems to think he can get by flashing his grin and cracking wise—and we really start to resent him for it, because he is more or less correct.

As Lialeh the villainess, Noomi Rapace looks like she gets indigestion from chewing scenery. It is too bad Vietnamese superstar Veronica Ngo does not get more dramatic heavy-lifting to do as her hench-elf Tien, considering she only appeared in Last Jedi for about thirty seconds as Paige Tico, but she still totally stole the picture as far as many fans as concerned. At least Edgar Ramírez looks like he is having fun as Kandomere, the Elfish federal Magic Squad agent.

The effects are pretty ho-hum, but Edgerton is terrific as Jakoby and Will Smith is Will Smith as Ward. The world-building is also impressive, but it would be even more effective if the film could go ten minutes without a teachable moment. Given the obvious parallels with Alien Nation it is also almost unforgivably awkward that the orc makeup looks so much like that of the “Newcomers.” It is more fun than you’ve likely heard, but it is not $90 million worth of fun. Recommended for fantasy fans who like their films loud and heavy-handed, Bright is now streaming on Netflix.

It Comes at Night: Armageddon Can be a Downer

Do sudden catastrophes bring out the best or the worst in people? If you actually read actual boots-on-the-ground eyewitness reports, you invariably hear much more about folks rising to the occasion and neighbors helping neighbors. However, national media reports, typically filed from New York, trafficking rumors heard at the press club, are more likely to tell tales of looting and the like. That pessimistic view of humanity in times of crisis is particularly pronounced in Hollywood disaster movies. It is fair to ask whether those films are conditioning us to be worse people than we would otherwise be. Such is also the case in this undefined bio-outbreak survivalist drama. It will be every family for themselves in Trey Edward Shults’ It Comes at Night (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

The origins and vectors of the highly contagious doomsday virus are never really explained, but it seems to produce zombie like effects. Paul is the sort of person who comes hardwired to survive. When his father-in-law shows rabid signs of infection, Paul does what need to be done. He will do anything to protect his wife Sarah and their son Travis. However, when a desperate father invades their fortified cabin in search of water for his wife and young son, Paul is persuaded by Sarah to join forces with them. They have a water supply and a reinforced shelter. Will and Kim have livestock. It is a win-win for bother families. Yet, Paul still cautions Travis to only trust their nuclear family.

The two families get along swimmingly for about ten minutes, before suspicion starts to set in again, particularly on Paul’s part. Frankly, their falling out is as predictable as the phases of the moon. Indeed, that is the whole problem with ICAN. Bad things start to happen, simply because it is the time when those sorts of plot points typically surface in movies.

It is really a shame, because Shults does a masterful job setting the mood and establishing the mise en scene. In all honesty, ICAN is often remarkably intense, especially during the murky, flashlight-lit night-time scenes. There are times when the audience has no idea what is going on—and it is terrifying. Unfortunately, the fear and paranoia that fragments their alliance feels like it unfolds in agonizingly slow motion. In fact, it is so easy to see it coming, somebody ought to be able to stop it.

Still, Paul is the sort of tightly wound brooder Joel Edgerton was born to play. Frankly, it is an unfair dramatic mismatch when he hulks over twerpy Christopher Abbott as the supposedly wiry-tough Will. On the plus side, Kelvin Harrison Jr. shows real star potential as Travis, but rather frustratingly Carmen Ejogo and Riley Keogh are largely dramatically subservient to Edgerton and Abbott, as Sarah and Kim, respectively. At least Mikey is rock-solid dependable as Travis’s loyal dog Stanley (but sensitive viewers should not get too attached).

Shults and cinematography Drew Daniels masterfully control what we see and how we see it, prompting our subconscious to ominously fill in the shadows outside our field of vision. It is a pity the narrative is not as inspired. Shults also advances a conception of human nature that is more pessimistic than Hobbes, but it is almost knee-jerkingly consistent with prevailing media preconceptions. Let us all hope we have no occasion to test how fair and true to life that portrayal of humanity really is. Recommended solely for genre fans for its skillfully stage-managed home invasion scenes and the potent vibe of slowly mounting dread, It Comes at Night opens this Friday (6/9) in New York, at the AMC Empire and the Cinépolis Chelsea.

Black Mass: Depp as Bulger

The one man James “Whitey” Bulger truly regrets not killing is radio host Howie Carr. Of course, it was not for a lack of trying. Yet, there is no mention of Carr in Hollywood’s first take on the Bulger case. In many ways, it is a kitchen sink movie, but its inclusions and exclusions are each significant. However, there is no denying the gangster’s fierceness in Scott Cooper’s Black Mass (trailer here), which opens today nationwide.

Bulger hated to be called Whitey, preferring to be called Jimmy by friends and low life associates. Whitey was the leader of the Winter Hill Gang, his brother William was the Democrat president of the Massachusetts State Senate, and John Connolly was the hotshot FBI agent returning to the South Boston neighborhood of his youth. Whitey had once interceded when a group of bullies were battering Connolly and he had idolized the unstable Bulger ever since. It seems that he still does.

According to Mark Mallouk and Jez Butterworth’s adaptation of Dick Lahr & Gerard O’Neill’s book, Connolly hatched the idea of an FBI alliance with Bulger out of misplaced hero-worship. Whether that is psychologically accurate or not, the upshot remains the same. Connolly used FBI resources to protect Bulger and facilitate his brutal expansion in exchange for information on the Italian mafia. Just how much information Bulger provided is the subject of great contention, but Black Mass portrays his reluctant scoop as the turning point in the mafia investigation.

Essentially, Black Mass jogs through the sad criminal epic, hitting the major bases and giving viewers of grab bag smattering of perspectives on Whitey. There is the Southie folk hero who helps old Mrs. Cody with her groceries. There is the psychopathic Whitey, who would take you out and shoot you for saying the wrong thing. There is also a smidge of the co-conspiring Brothers Bulger, whom Carr castigated for robbing people blind—one using the force of the Winter Hill Gang, the other using the force of the government.

The problem is Cooper and company clearly bought into Whitey’s self-invented mythology to some extent, in order to portray him as a Cagney-esque figure. Yet, Whitey is the man who forced Stephen Rakes to sign over his liquor store, simply because he was stronger and he wanted it. That’s not Robin Hood. That’s the Sheriff of Nottingham. Whitey terrified South Boston in that manner, but it is completely absent from the film.

On the plus side, the Johnny Depp we have been missing for years finally decided to show up. He captures Whitey’s erratic intensity, venomous rage, and wiry power. Although small in stature, he is a physically intimidating presence. One look at him says bad news. That was how Whitey kept the town under his heel for so long.

Joel Edgerton is suitably awestruck and ultimately quite pitiable as the Connolly. However, while FBI special agent Robert Fitzpatrick was the hero of Joe Berlinger’s documentary WHITEY: the United States of America v. James J. Bulger, he is relegated to the background of Mass and played by the inconsequential Adam Scott, who looks far too young to be the agent that busted James Earl Ray (disclosure: my house published Fitzpatrick’s book, but we have never met).

Similarly, Benedict Cumberbatch is obviously proud of his Boston accent, but he does not radiate adequate villainy as William Bulger. Still, Jesse Plemons and Rory Cochrane are totally credible as Whitey’s trusted inner circle, but their most substantial scenes come in the first twenty minutes during the interrogation framing device.

Depp should be in contention for his work as Whitey, because it really is that good. Unfortunately, it comes in a rather shallow and inconsistent film. Far from being the final word on Bulger, Black Mass is a disappointment that only serves as an effective star vehicle for Depp when it opens today (9/18) at the AMC Empire in New York.

Felony: Tom Wilkinson Covers for Joel Edgerton

Even in laidback Australia, cops are still cops. It’s not like they’re issued a Fosters along with their gun and badge. A drunken driving incident could cost a good copper like Det. Mal Toohey everything, but the subsequent cover-up will have even greater implications in Matthew Saville’s Felony (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Toohey’s long planned drugs raid was a spectacular success. The only wrinkle was the slug he took in the vest. Hailed as a hero, he spent the night celebrating with his colleagues. Unfortunately, he clips a cyclist on the way home. As decent person, Toohey immediately calls it in, but plays the role of witness rather than an involved party. As it happens, veteran detective Carl Summer and his goody-two-shoes new partner Jim Melic are on patrol nearby. After a quick private caucus with Toohey, Summer molds his story into something that will fit the scene.

Obviously, this is not an incident Summer wants to revisit, but Melic cannot let it go, in part due to his attraction to the comatose boy’s Indian mother. While Summer ought to be able to bluff and bully him into line, Toohey starts complicating matters with his inconvenient guilt-tripping.

Written by co-star Joel Edgerton (the future Uncle Owen in the next batch of Stars Wars prequels), Felony is a cop story long on angst and short on firearms discharge. It is a good vehicle for Edgerton’s brooding chops, but Tom Wilkinson really steals the show as Summer, the darkly complex veteran. He is truly one of the best in the business. Wisely, as Toohey and Melic, Edgerton and Jai Courtney go the quiet, understated route, rather than try to compete with the wonderfully acerbic persona Wilkinson creates. In contrast, the women in Felony do not have much to do, but at least Melissa George gets one good scene as Toohey’s concerned wife.

Saville skillfully contrasts the nocturnal noir vibe of the detectives’ world with the disorienting sunshine of regular life. Felony’s themes and conflicts are not exactly undiscovered territory, but they provide plenty of grist for the talented co-stars to dig into.  It is a solid cop morality play that gets a further boost from Wilkinson’s crafty presence. Recommended for fans of the cast and supporters of Australian cinema, Felony opens this Friday (10/17) in New York at the Cinema Village.

Sundance ’12: Wish You Were Here

Southeast Asia really is not the wisest place to go on a drug and booze-fueled bender, particularly if you are parents and even more so if you are pregnant. Nonetheless, the Flannerys decides you only live once in Kieran Darcy-Smith’s cautionary tale, Wish You Were Here (trailer here), which screens as part of the 2012 Sundance Film Festival.

Dave and Alice Flannery have two kids, with a third on the way. Despite her advancing pregnancy they cannot say no when her sister Steph McKinney’s new boyfriend offers to treat them all to a vacation in Cambodia. A sketchy import-exporter, the fast-talking Jeremy King claims he can deduct it all. Evidently, Australia must have quite an indulgent tax code. At first, the quartet has a blast, as the audience can plainly see from the long opening montage. However, only three of them came back. Somewhere along the way, they lost King.

Actually, quite a bit went down in Cambodia that threatens to break their family ties. Since they all assume King’s disappearance involved his stash of XTC, they have trouble deciding just what they should tell the Australian authorities. Needless to say, there are probably lingering dangers from that fateful night they should also worry about.

At times, the Flannerys can just be hair-pullingly dumb. An iota of communication would have spared them so much grief. Still, the slow reveal of King’s fate is rather effective (though the resolution of the mystery is somewhat underwhelming). The Cambodian locales are also quite cinematically exotic and seedy. Yet throughout Wish, it is impossible to shake the notion the Flannerys got off easy. Haven’t they seen Midnight Express? Drug use in a less than transparent country is usually a distinctly bad idea.

Poised to succeed Russell Crowe as Hollywood’s favorite square-jawed Australian, Joel Edgerton definitely has the right intense screen presence and everyman quality for Dave Flannery. Granted, it is a stressful set of circumstances, but Felicity Price’s Alice Flannery often comes across as somewhat overwrought and irrational. In contrast, even though he draws the short straw, Anthony Starr is rather memorably dynamic as the ill-fated King.

Wish is a serviceable thriller-slash-family drama, but it holds no real surprises in store for viewers. It probably will not do much for Cambodian tourism either, even though the beaches look inviting. Not a special priority, Wish screens tonight (1/21) in Odgen and this coming Wednesday (1/25) and Friday (1/27) in Park City, as this year’s Sundance swings into high gear.