Echo Valley, on Apple TV+

Kate Garretson should have stuck with horses. All the animals at her stables seem nice and calm, but her daughter Claire is a real piece of work. Her father Richard has had enough, but her mother keeps giving her money and shielding her from the consequences of her mistakes. Unfortunately, that indulgence has deadly consequences in Michael Pearce’s Echo Valley, which premieres today on Apple TV+.

Garretson has neglected the stables since the untimely death of the wife she left arrogant old blue-blooded Richard for. He has given up on Claire, but he still gives his ex “loans” for barn repairs. We are supposed to dislike him, but he is remarkably generous to his ex-wife, especially given the circumstances—and totally right with respects to Claire’s ungrateful, anti-social behavior.

Yet, again the prodigal daughter returns home, but this time her creepy dealer Jackie Lawson follows her. Garretson is sufficiently country to ward him off the first time. The next time Claire comes home, Lawson soon follows again, but this time he has the upper-hand. Thus begins the cat-and-mouse game, which constitutes the guts of the film.

It is easy to lose patience with this film and its major characters. They are whiny, make horrible decisions, and their potential identity box checking clearly was prioritized over wit or uniqueness. However, Brad Ingelsby’s screenplay shows sudden third act signs of life, when the momentum between the two antagonists starts to shift back and forth.

Admittedly, Julianne Moore puts on a master class projecting Garretson’s still raw bereavement (bordering on depression) and her mama bear protective drive. After the first stilted scene with her ex-husband (another thankless appearance for Kyle MacLachlan), every second she is on screen rings true.

Sharper

Nobody ever made much money from a bookstore, especially one with a literary bent. It is therefore a little confusing when a film about con artists and grifters initially spends so much time with Tom, a mild-mannered bookstore owner. However, we eventually learn he has a complicated backstory. So does everyone else in Benjamin Caron’s Sharper, which opens in theaters tomorrow, before hitting Apple TV+ a week later.

Tom was leading a quiet life until Sandra came into his store, looking for a suitable copy of Zora Neale Hurston. As their relationship progresses, they seem perfect together—maybe a little too perfect. Eventually, we will flashback to Max, a grifter (or sharper) preparing for a big score. He often works with his somewhat older lover Madeline, but in the scam we see unfolding, he pretends to be her son. That definitely gives the film a similar vibe to Stephen Frears’ The Grifters, but that certainly isn’t a bad thing.

It is hard to reveal much more than that without getting spoilery. As fans of films in the tradition of The Sting would hope and expect, there are a lot of cons within cons going on. Frankly, it is pretty easy to guess the final third act twist, but it provides the payback viewers will be hoping for, so it is still fun to see how it is accomplished.

Julianne Moore is terrific as Madeline. She is some kind of femme fatale. According to press reports, Sharper also represents the first time in fifteen years she has held a firearm on-screen, so lets all welcome her back to the entertainment industry. Opposite her, Sebastian Stan does some of his best work yet as the spectacularly snake-like Max. Justice Smith provides a grounded counterpoint as the naive and impractical Tom, while the great John Lithgow is as compulsively watchable as ever, playing billionaire Richard Hobbes (obviously, he must be one of the marks, since he is a billionaire).

Stephen King’s Lisey’s Story

Stephen King often cites his 2006 novel as one of his favorites, but in some ways, it is also one of his most precious. It is filled with Carroll-esque terms like "Boo’ya Moon,” the fantasy world his characters slip in and out of and the “Bool” treasure hunts the late novelist Scott Landon used to devise. There is even a sailing ship filled with children who never grow-up in Boo’ya Moon. The tone is still dark and foreboding when Lisey Landon discovers a final “Bool” her husband left behind for her in the eight-episode Lisey’s Story, adapted by the author and entirely directed by Pablo Larrain, which premieres today on Apple TV.

Lisey Landon is still struggling to come to terms with her husband’s death. She saved his life once, by taking a shovel to the stalker who shot him. Frankly, he probably should have died then, but he husband always said “Landons are fast healers.” Maybe that should be “her husband always says,” because Lisey Landon is starting to confuse the present with a rush of memories. It is even harder for viewers to distinguish the time periods.

Landon’s reveries are precipitated by a series of crises. Her emotionally fragile sister Amanda Debusher has apparently broken from reality and lapsed into a near-catatonic state. Rather fortuitously, her late husband anticipated this and pre-arranged for her admission to a long-term care facility. Meanwhile, another psycho-fan starts harassing her, demanding she release her husband’s unpublished papers.

Some of the best King adaptations have been limited TV series, such as Mick Garris’s original The Stand, Tobe Hooper’s Salem’s Lot, and Richard Price’s adaptation of The Outsider, so there were a lot of high hopes for Lisey Story. Unfortunately, the auteurist Larrain is not well-suited to dark fantastical material and King once again proves to be his own worst editor. There is no question Lisey’s Story should have been half its current length—maybe even a quarter.

However, if you want to watch a spectral Clive Owen skulk and brood in a hoodie than King’s adaptation will be your catnip, Time and again, he and Larrain bring us back to Boo’ya Moon or flashback to another horrific episode from his trying childhood, in scenes that should have been combined and compressed.

As a result of all the flashing-back and strolls through New Agey forests, Larrain lets most of the tension and suspense generated by the stalker plotline dissipate. It also causes a lot of confusion, especially since Julianne Moore’s title character apparently never aged a day in all her years with Landon. That seems rather unlikely, especially considering what he and Debusher put her through.

Ironically, some of the best work in Lisey’s Story comes from Jennifer Jason Leigh as the no-nonsense third sister, Darla. She always kicks up the energy level, even though her character often feels like an afterthought. In contrast, poor Joan Allen mostly stares off into space as Debusher. Moore is well-cast and certainly has her moments as the title character. Viewers will lose patience with her need to re-learn every revelation several times over, but that is really a function of questionable editing.

What Maisie Knew: Henry James Modernized & Sweetened

This must have been a hard pitch.  One would suspect Henry James’ novel of narcissistic, self absorbed parents of privilege would hit close to home for many decision-makers working in the movie business (studio or indie, it hardly matters anymore).  Yet somehow, the poor little rich girl will indeed wrestle with her parental issues in Scott McGehee & David Siegel’s What Maisie Knew (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Beale and Susanna are Maisie’s parents, if we can really use that word.  He is a dodgy art dealer and she is an over-the-hill rock star angling for a comeback.  Both are more interested in their careers than their daughter.  When they think of Maisie, it is mostly as a potential club to bludgeon each other with during their divorce proceedings.

Since he is able to present a more stable front, Beale wins considerable custody rights.  However, this is not all bad.  He is also taking her nanny Margo as his trophy wife.  She actually cares about Maisie, willingly giving her the time and attention she cannot get from her parents.  Meanwhile, Susanna marries the working class Lincoln, apparently to have a live-in sitter for Maisie. Like Margo, he quickly develops a paternal affection for his step-daughter that the ragingly insecure Susanna perversely resents. Hmm, does anybody see the potential building blocks of a more functional family unit in here somewhere?

Poor Mrs. Wix.  Maisie’s frumpy second nanny really gets the shaft from screenwriters Nancy Doyne and Carroll Cartwright’s adaptation.  While the James novel rebukes the shallow indulgence he considered endemic in society, McGehee and Siegel’s WMK seems to suggest blonds make better parents.  The proceedings are also marked by a heightened class consciousness, with the nanny and bartender showing superior character than Maisie’s privileged biological parents.

Regardless of what James might think of his novel modernized and transported to New York, McGehee and Siegel have an unbeatable trump card in their young lead.  As Maisie, Onata Aprile is completely unaffected and wholly engaging.  She covers a wide emotional spectrum, carrying the audience every step of the way. 

Likewise, Joanna Vanderham is charismatic and surprisingly vulnerable as Margo, while Alexander Skarsgård’s understated nice guy Lincoln is likable enough.  Julianne Moore labors valiantly to humanize the self-centered and psychologically erratic Susanna, but Steve Coogan is largely stuck playing a caricatured straw-man as the arrogant Beale.

Maisie’s cast and co-director definitely stack the deck, but at least they do it thoroughly and compellingly.  Viewers will absolutely care about the bright and precociously self-aware Maisie, which is the acid test for any film focused on a young protagonist. The upscale New York locations also add a dash of élan.  Anchored by several well turned performances, What Maisie Knew is surprisingly satisfying.  Recommended kind of affectionately for fans of literary melodrama, it opens this Friday (5/3) in New York at the Angelika Film Center.

6 Souls: O Ye of Little Faith

There is nothing like eternity to teach atheist materialists a thing or two.  A malevolent supernatural entity is out to demonstrate the soul’s existence to those who unfortunately lack faith in Måns Mårlind & Björn Stein’s 6 Souls (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Dr. Cara Jessup has no patience with bogus multiple-personality diagnoses.  She is perfectly willing to testify against such claptrap as an expert witness for criminal prosecutors.  It takes a lot out of her though, because she is a practicing Christian.  Her faith was recently tested by the random murder of her husband, yet it remains strong.  The same is not necessarily true for her father, Dr. Harding, and her young daughter.

Also a psychiatrist, the old man is more apt to buy into trendy theories.  As a challenge to his orthodox daughter, he presents her a particularly volatile but convincing split personality case.  Excepting the challenge, Jessup discovers the man’s presumably adopted personas correspond to tragic deaths not far from his hill country roots.  In each case, the deceased’s faith had been undermined by misfortune before their actual deaths.  It all might involve a snake-handling Hillbilly sect and its spiritual leader, the “Granny.”  Of course, while Dr. Jessup follows her clues all the soul-sick people in her life start dying like flies.

If Julianne Moore had created such a sympathetic portrait of a woman of faith when playing Sarah Palin, Game Change would have been the toast of CPAC.  Frankly, 6 Souls is more than a bit muddled in its presentation of religious belief, but Moore clearly conveys her Christianity as a source of strength for Jessup.  It is smart, earnest work.  And then there’s everyone else.

To be fair, veteran character actor Jeffrey DeMunn (the Stephen King prison movie specialist, appearing in Green Mile and Shawshank) is quite engaging as Dr. Harding.  Alas, Jonathan Rhys Meyers is far from a suitably sinister presence as Harding’s patient[s].  Indeed, there is no getting around it—he is just plain dull.

6 Souls opens with a grabby sequence that nicely establishes both Dr. Jessup’s character and an atmosphere of foreboding.  Unfortunately, it is not really connected to the rest of the narrative.  Mårlind & Stein try to maintain the moody vibe, but they keep the proceedings so murky it seems like they might have shot with layer of caked-on mud covering their lens.  There is a worthy lead performance and the kernel of a promising idea in 6 Souls, but the execution is too dark (in a literal sense) and erratic.  Best reserved for genre die-hards who like their supernatural horror with some Appalachian seasoning, 6 Souls opens this Friday (4/5) in New York at the Village East.