Grosse Pointe Garden Society, on NBC

Apparently, in this tony Detroit suburb, the high school reunions are funnier than the garden parties. Many viewers previously only knew the small, well-to-do community as the setting of Grosse Pointe Blank, but plenty of Fords have lived there—as in the Fords. They can afford swanky gardens, but someone has to get their hands dirty. Usually, that just involves soil, but there will also be bloodstains in co-creator-showrunners Jenna Bans & Bill Krebs’ who-was-it-done-to, Grosse Point Garden Society, which premieres this Sunday on NBC.

Prepare yourself for a constant stream of flashbacks and flashforwards. Four members of the garden club share a guilty secret. For whatever reason, they buried a body in one of their flowerbeds. They all have their share of enemies who had it in for them, so it could be any number of people.

Obviously, Alice is the nice one. That is why Brett carries a torch for her, even though she is married to Doug. Nevertheless, someone shot her beloved dog at point blank range. She suspects the wealthy parents of the student whom she gave a “D” for plagiarism.

Not surprisingly, Brett and Doug do not get on so well, but he really despises his ex-wife’s wealthy new husband, who is definitely wants to replace him as his son’s father. Unfortunately, Brett finds it hard to compete with him on his salary from the nursery.

Catherine has fidelity issues. First, she was unfaithful to her husband, but her lover, also her boss, was unfaithful to her, with an awful lot of women. One of those secret lovers was Birdie, but it probably meant even less to her than it did to him.

The new Grosse Pointe resident has made a name for herself as a scandalous author and influencer, but her hard-partying ways immediately get her in trouble. That is why she comes to the garden society—to complete her community service. She would also like to do right by Ford, the son she never met after giving him up for adoption. However, he is surprisingly surly and his adoptive father Joel is the town’s top cop. Weirdly, she and Joel get along far better than his wife would prefer.

So, who is the body the four club-members planted? That is the show’s central who-killed-J.R. question. Based on the first four episodes provided for review, it looks like Bans and Krebs regularly end each episode in a way that points to one suspect as the victim, only to walk it back at the start of the next installment. In this case, the coyness instills a feeling of being played in viewers.

This one-step-forward-one-step-back strategy also robs the early episodes of momentum. The movement is all lateral and the constant time-shifts require more attention than a lot of viewers are willing to give prime-time dinner-hour television.

However, AnnaSophia Robb, Aja Naomi King, and Melissa Fumero all play off each other quite nicely, as the nice one, the passive one looking to assertive herself, and the boozy Ab-Fab one, respectively. The way they learn to draw on each other’ strengths is shaping up to be the best aspect of the show.

The Wind & the Reckoning: A Hawaiian Western

Did make sense for the post-monarchy Hawaiian government to quarantine indigenous leprosy patients at the colony on Molokai, despite the disease’s low level of transmission? Before you answer, review your positions on Covid mandates and lockdowns. In light of the last three years, it is illuminating to revisit the Leper War of 1893. Ko’olau, the Hawaiian cowboy previously immortalized by Jack London, fights for his family and his way of life in David L. Cunningham’s The Wind & the Reckoning, which opens this Friday in New York.

Both Ko’olau and his son Kaleimanu have contracted the disease, but not his wife Pi’ilani. Unfortunately, she would not be permitted to accompany her husband and son to the colony, where all marriages are declared void on arrival. It is clear Sheriff Stoltz and his lowlife deputies consider this a side-benefit to the quarantine policy when they arrive for Ko’olau and Kaleimanu, because Pi’ilani is quite pretty. However, neither Ko’olau or his Yankee “Uncle” Eben Sinclair will submit, but their violent resistance makes the father, mother, and son fugitives.

A party of soldiers follow Ko’olau into Kalalau Valley, along with Marshal Edward G. Hitchcock, a holdover from the days of the Kingdom, who has little enthusiasm or stomach for the man hunt. According to the historical record, they were also accompanied by a Board of Health rep, but that character was dropped for the film (perhaps out of fears of potential Fauci-esque echoes).

Regardless, Wind & Reckoning is inescapably timely. Throughout the film, viewers should ask themselves is this all about health or control—and which outbreak are we talking about? Sadly, health crises are often used as an excuse to curtail civil liberties. Cunningham and screenwriter John Fusco clearly argue that was the case in Kalalau.

It is also a solidly executed revisionist western. Jason Scott Lee (from Dragon: The Bruce Lee Story and Rapa Nui) is a credible strong, silently steely rifleman. Likewise, Lindsay Marie Anuhea Watson is fiercely protective and keenly sensitive as Pi’ilani. Arguably, Johnathon Schaech’s portrayal of Marshal Hitchcock makes him the film’s most complex and conflicted character. The late Patrick Gilbert also contributes a lot of heart and poignancy as the profoundly decent Sinclair. Plus, action star Ron Yuan adds his big presence to the film as Lee, the soldiers’ literal howitzer bearer.

Blade of the 47 Ronin

It is pretty clear from this film, Samurai are far more skilled than ninjas. However, ninjas attack with superior numbers, like in the dozens or hundreds. Those ninjas hordes obey the commands of a witch who has targeted the descendants of the loyal samurai-turned-ronin, who avenged their lord back in the Edo era. It is about as loose as sequels get, but the hack-and-slash martial arts certainly entertains throughout Ron Yuan’s Blade of the 47 Ronin, which releases today on DVD and Netflix.

Supposedly, this is a sequel to the disastrous Keanu Reeves version of The 47 Ronin, but feel free to pretend it is a sequel to the Kon Ichikawa or Kenji Mizoguchi adaptations, because the connection between films is tenuous, at best. In the present day, samurai clans operate in secret, based in Budapest, supposedly because it is a key juncture between East and West, but it also happens to be affordable to shoot there. The descendants of the 47 Ronin guard the magically divided half of a mythic sword that holds a fateful prophecy. The witches hold the other half, but Yurei, the most powerful warlock has gone rogue.

He thought he had killed all the Ronin’s descendants, but there was a secret progeny out there somewhere. Unfortunately, the punky, resentful Luna does not inspire much confidence. She has come to Budapest to sell her late, estranged father’s sword, which is obviously priceless. Luna is a pain, but virtuous Lord Shinshiro protects her anyway. That duty primarily falls to his Bugeisha (samurai warrior woman) Onami, who enlists help from her old confidant, Reo, a ronin, who was forced out of Shinshiro’s service due to a past disgrace.

Scholars of Japanese history and literature will probably be scandalized by the way Blade trades on the names of the 47 Ronin, which is fair enough. However, if you accept the film as its own stand-alone entity, it is pretty fun, admittedly in a meathead kind of way. Ron Yuan (the actor, not appearing in-front of the camera this time around) clearly understands how to frame a fight scene and he is not intimidated by a little blood splatter. The swordplay is often brutal, but it looks great.

Yuan also has the benefit of two major action stars, who still clearly have their stuff. Mark Dacascos is cool and commanding as Lord Shinshiro, while Dustin Nguyen is all kinds of steely playing Lord Nikko. Stylistically, his clan is very different from Shinshiro’s but they are allied in honor. They both have plenty of highly cinematic fight scenes, but Teresa Ting and Michael Moh (Bruce Lee in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood) have even more. Their athleticism is impressive and they some appealing comrade-in-arms rapport going on.

Fantasia ’20: The Paper Tigers

It is the one rock-solid law of kung fu movies: no matter where you are in life, you must avenge your sifu. The trio of boyhood friends who became Master Cheung’s three true disciples really ought to know that, but they have been estranged from each other and kung fu for a number of years. Nevertheless, they will come together and do what honor requires in director-screenwriter Bao Tran’s The Paper Tigers, which premiered at the 2020 Fantasia International Film Festival.

In the gloriously analog 1980’s prologue, Danny (a.k.a. “Eight Hands”) was the toughest teen martial artist on the scene. His sworn brothers Hing and Jim were not too far behind him. Unfortunately, these days, they are slightly less youthful than they once were. For various reasons, each drifted away from Master Cheung and kung fu. Only Jim remained somewhat involved in the martial arts world, becoming a Brazilian jiu-jitsu-MMA trainer. Hing has certainly lost a step due to a workman’s comp accident, but Danny has probably slipped the most mentally. He was once a master at psyching out his opponents, but the divorced, workaholic father no longer has confidence in his kung fu.

Granted, that is a pretty familiar set-up, but some smart buddy chemistry and co-star Ken Quitugua’s action-direction makes it feel fresh. As the three disciples, Alain Uy, Ron Yuan, and Mykel Shannon Jenkins bicker, banter, and bust chops like old friends with long memories. There is definitely humor throughout Paper Tigers, but the action is played scrupulously straight and it compares favorably with any of its mirthless martial arts movie cousins.

Yet, what really makes the film special is Danny’s relationship with his son Ed (nicely developed by Uy and young Joziah Lagonoy). You can tell Tran seriously studied martial arts at one time, from the way he has the father character discussing with his son how and when to fight and when to walk away. After all, those with real training always try their best to avoid fighting in real life, even though they strive to be ready for it at all times.

Birth of the Dragon: Bruce Lee’s Legendary Fight with Wong Jack Man

Dateline: San Francisco, 1964. Bruce Lee is the most prominent martial artist on the West Coast, poised for motion picture superstardom. Just ask him, he’ll be happy to tell you. Wong Jack Man was a traditional Shaolin practitioner who came to America to do penance. He would find redemption by helping the cocky Lee reconnect with the spiritual dimension of Kung Fu. At least that is how their mythic behind-closed-doors martial arts match is framed in George Nolfi’s Birth of the Dragon (trailer here), which is now playing in New York.

The fight between Lee and Wong remains a real life martial arts Rashomon. Who won depends on who you ask. Lee partisans have a greater platform to make their case, but if you dive deep enough into San Francisco’s Chinatown, you will find old-timers who claim Wong really won.

According to Birth, Wong was not in San Francisco to serve as a Kung Fu cop, but to lower himself after disgracefully maiming an honorable opponent in an exhibition match. Some claim Wong was outraged to find Lee teaching dorky white guys. Initially, he does indeed have his reservations, yet he spends a heck of a lot of time trying to pass on some wisdom to Steve McKee, Lee’s former hotheaded Hoosier student. In fact, McKee will serve as a catalyst for the controversial match, when Wong finally agrees to fight Lee partly to secure the freedom of the student’s not-so-secret girlfriend Xiulan Quan from Chinatown human trafficker Auntie Blossom. However, he also hopes a dose of humility will do wonders for Lee’s karma.

Reportedly, Birth has been dramatically re-edited from the cut that screened at last year’s TIFF. At the time, the Lee family made their lack of amusement very clear. Yes, Nolfi and screenwriters Stephen J. Rivele and Christopher Wilkinson (adapting an article originally published in Official Karate, perhaps representing a motion picture first) portray Lee as being boastful and ambitious. However, nobody comes up through the mean streets to become an international movie icon if they’re a shrinking violet. Nevertheless, the film is obviously aligned with Team Wong (giving it a distinctly different perspective), but they eventually try bring the two masters into harmony, setting them against the villains of Chinatown. That might not satisfy Lee or Wong loyalists, but it is exactly what the rest of us want to see.

No matter which sifu you identify with, you have to admit Philip Ng Wan-lung is a spooky dead-ringer for Lee. If there was a curse, it might turn on him now. Plus, he is deeply steeped in Wing Chun, so the fight scenes he choreographed in collaboration with Cory Yuen (credited as “fight designer”) look spectacular, but there is also a grittiness to them that is in keeping with Lee’s classic films.

Yet, Yu Xia (somewhat ironically) takes ownership of the film as the self-effacing Shaolin master. He makes Wong’s complicated mixture guilt and enlightenment look pretty darn charismatic. He also forges some appealing mentor-student chemistry with Billy Magnussen’s McKee, whose likable screen presence will frustrate those who would resent his screen time. Of course, it is always fun to see Ron Yuan do his thing as Auntie Blossom’s chief enforcer.

All things considered, Birth has a nice feel for the period. Like any good martial artist, it reminds us the spiritual is more important than the physical, but when it comes time to throw down, it is all business. It is a little scruffy, but that is part of its charm. Recommended with surprising affection for neutrally-aligned martial arts fans, Birth of the Dragon is now playing in New York, at the AMC Empire.

CAAMFest ’17: Cardinal X

Angie Wang was the Walter White of her 1980s Bay Area campus. When her financial aid suddenly stopped, she combined her chemistry know how and club kid social contacts to become a major manufacturer and distributor of MDMA. The good times will be fun while they last, but there will come a reckoning in Angie Wang’s Cardinal X (clip here), which screens during the 2017 CAAMFest in San Francisco and Oakland.

Wang grew up in Newark, so you can’t judge her too harshly. She had it especially difficult, thanks to her severe father and the erratic mother who bailed on them. Yet, through hard work and academic achievement, Wang earns admittance to a prestigious Northern California university that is absolutely, positively not Stanford. She is also awarded some financial aid, but it will not be enough.

Through her privileged party girl roommate Jeanine Rockwell, Wang gains entrée to all the campus frat parties, where she learns of the voracious demand for MDMA (ecstasy). When her grant money falls through, Wang rather enterprisingly sets herself up in the ecstasy business (which wasn’t even illegal at the time). However, the lure of easy money and the hard partying that go with it takes Wang to some dark places. Even Tommy, her chem lab buddy and the angel perched in her shoulder cannot prevent her hard fall from grace, but unlike the Breaking Bad protag, Wang might have a shot at redemption.

We can only hope Wang the director did not live the life of Wang the character, chapter and verse, but she is clearly drawing on sufficient personal experience to give Cardinal X the ring of authenticity completely lacking in thematically similar films, such as the laughable White Powder. You can tell some serious street cred went into the film. However, Annie Q’s performance as Wang never allows cynicism to set in. Thanks to her, we can always see the vulnerability Wang tries to hide beneath her tough-talking façade.

Cardinal X also showcases a side of action movie regular Ron Yuan that we do not often get to see. Honestly, he is just terrific as Wang’s father Michael, a hardworking cook, who is incapable of expressing his emotions (his big climatic scene is extraordinarily well written and well played). Francesca Eastwood brings greater depth and dimension to Wang’s hot mess roommate than you would ever find in an average college melodrama, while Scott Keiji Takeda is winningly geeky as poor old Tommy. Arguably, the subplot involving the distressed inner city school girl Wang counsels as part of the Big Brothers/Big Sisters program is way too on-the-nose, but Aalyrah Caldwell’s work as young Bree is still remarkably assured.

Despite the somewhat lurid subject matter, Wang’s gritty execution and the quality of her cast make it a serious indie drama rather than a guilty camp pleasure. When it is over, viewers will feel like they have been through a lot with Wang, which is impressive. To her further credit, she also totally nails the Eighties vibe. Recommended as both nostalgic and cautionary viewing, Cardinal X screens again this coming Saturday (3/18), as part of CAAMFest.

Pulp in the City: The Girl from the Naked Eye

In Neil Jordan’s Mona Lisa, a petty criminal forms an ambiguous bond with the upscale sex-worker he is hired to drive.  It is a good movie, so try to forget it, temporarily.  While their relationship is superficially similar, this tale of a working woman and her driver is all about pulp and revenge.  Yes, the title character will unfortunately only be appearing in flashbacks throughout David Ren’s The Girl from the Naked Eye, which opens this Friday in New York.

A self-described hash-up, Jake is taking the death of his high class "working-girl" associate Sandy rather hard.  Deep in debt to the mob, he took a job with the Naked Eye, a strip club whose sleazy proprietor Simon makes his real money running the top performers to private clients.  Jake used to be Sandy’s driver, but requested a new assignment right before her murder.  His feelings for her will become clear from his series of ruminative flashbacks. 

In the present day, Jake only has one concern: making the killer pay.  Obviously, he wants to know who saw her last, but Simon will not willingly give up her client list.  A savage beat-down later, Jake is on the trail, but he will have to contend with Simon’s thugs and his crooked cop partner, who is in serious damage control mode.

This must strip club week for the indie movie release beat, with Eye hitting theaters along with Mathieu Demy’s more heralded Americano.  Ironically, Eye’s lack of pretense earns it a limited nod over its self-serious French competitor.  Though far from classic, at least it feels no need to apologize for some lurid material and a little violence.

Indeed, action director-co-star Ron Yuan makes several key contributions, including an inventively staged decidedly un-Raid-like fight sequence, in which Jake and four security guards all become increasingly battered and exhausted as it stretches on.  He also gives the film a jolt of energy as Simon, delivering a surprising number of laughs and developing real anti-chemistry with Brandy Grace, who makes quite an impression as Angela, his caustic lover and top earner.

Eye also features two entertaining more-or-less cameos, including Sasha Grey, appearing fully clothed as a bystander in Simon’s hotel for sex-workers.  Dominique Swain has a bit more substantial role as Alissa, a not yet disillusioned lady of the evening, who gives the dense Jake a few helpful tips, via Nancy Drew.  Both give brief lifts to the film’s moody seediness.  Every bit helps, especially since leads Jason Yee and Samantha Street are bit bland in their dramatic scenes together as Jake and Sandy.  Still, the former is quite convincing in his action scenes.

Trying too hard to be noir, Eye is weighed down by narration that would be over the top even for a parody (which it might possibly be).  Nevertheless, the colorful supporting cast deserves props for embracing the grindhouse vibe.  Clearly a B-movie best saved for late night cable viewing, The Girl from the Naked Eye nonetheless opens this Friday (6/15) in New York at the AMC Empire.