Finch, on Apple TV+

In the not too distant future, next Sunday A.D. There was a man named Finch Weinberg, not so different from you and me. To keep his sanity, he built some robot friends, but they never got to riff on any cheesy movies, even though Jeff, his newest invention, shares similar coloring with Crow T. Robot. Instead, they are preoccupied with survival—that of Finch and his dog Goodyear—in Miguel Sapochnik’s post-apocalyptic Finch, which premieres today on Apple TV+.

The world is pretty much over and only a few survivors like Weinberg remain holed up in their hiding places. In his soul-scarring experience, nobody works together anymore. Weinberg’s scientific background has served him well, allowing him to hole-up in a power plant he manages to keep in limited operation. Unfortunately, his health is deteriorating, so he created Jeff to help him care for Goodyear. His service drone Dewey just does not have sufficient functionality.

Not long after he is powered up, Jeff helps Weinberg detect an incoming mega-storm. They must flee the entire Midwest region, so Weinberg decides to head towards San Francisco, for sentimental reasons, even though he has never left St. Louis before. Thus begins a road trip across the desolate wasteland ravaged by the vague cosmic disaster that is never fully spelled out. For Jeff there will be growing pains, but even crusty Weinberg will learn late life lessons too.

Craig Luck & Ivor Powell’s screenplay definitely leans into sentimentality, but the ever-reliable Tom Hanks bails out the film’s more indulgent moments with his haunted and world-weary performance as Weinberg. The comparisons with Castaway are obvious, but we come to understand he retreated to his own island long before Armageddon came crashing down. It is a smartly calibrated performance and Hanks truly looks gaunt and grizzled—you almost have to wonder if he shot the film while he was recovering from Covid.

Greyhound: Tom Hanks Adapts C.S. Forester

The U.S. Merchant Marine suffered a higher fatality rate than any other American service branch during World War II. German U-boats were the primary reason. They were always deadly, but especially so when hunting American cargo and troop ships in the so-called “Black Pit,” the central Atlantic waters Allied air support could not reach. A veteran Naval officer with no prior combat experience must protect a large convoy during its perilous transatlantic passage in Aaron Schneider’s Greyhound, adapted from C.S. Forester’s The Good Shepherd by its star and screenwriter, Tom Hanks, which premieres today on Apple TV.

Although he is a career officer, Capt. Ernest Krause’s first command is the destroyer USS Keeling—call sign: “Greyhound.” The newly promoted captain is keenly aware several of his junior officers and able-bodied seamen are far-more battle-tested than he is. However, he takes strength from his Christian faith and his love for Evelyn, who would be his fiancée, if times were peaceful.

As soon as the convoy enters the Black Spot, a German U-boat is detected on sonar. Greyhound is sent on a detour to hunt it down, in what will be the first test of Krause’s leadership. Unfortunately, the detour will also deplete Greyhound’s depth charges and fuel. Racing to catch up with the convoy, the Keeling is forced to spearhead the rear-defense when a full “wolfpack” of U-boats suddenly attacks.

It is a shame Sony canceled Greyhound’s theatrical release in response to the CCP-virus and sold it to Apple, because it is a lean, tense war film that still deserves to be seen on a big screen. As a screenwriter, Hanks distills the narrative down to its elemental essence, jettisoning any dead weight melodrama, while retaining a nuts-and-bolts realism. Greyhound could almost serve as a training film for destroyer crews, if the stakes were not so dire.

Granted, we do not really get to know the personality quirks of the crew, but Capt. Krause is not on-board to make friends. He is there to keep them alive and protect the convoy. There is an obvious kinship between Capt. Krause and other celebrated Hanks characters, such as Captain Phillips and most conspicuously Capt. John Miller from Saving Private Ryan. Yet, Krause is particularly compelling, probably for precisely the reasons some snobby critics are rather lukewarm on the film. Hanks never gives himself any flashy Oscar-reel dialogue, but what he shows is the depth of Krause’s Christian belief—it is a faith that manifests itself in humility—something we rarely see in film or society during these hyper-cynical times.

Hanks is quietly powerful as Krause—it really might be some of his best work yet, even though it comes in a combat-driven film. Most of the rest of the ensemble are good soldiers playing good sailors. However, Stephen Graham is memorably salty and flinty as Krause’s first officer, Charlie Cole. Elizabeth Shue only appears briefly in an early flashback as Evelyn, but it is a rather poignant scene, in which she and Hanks express much, while speaking rather little.

Tribeca ’17: The Circle

It is an online service that offers one-stop shopping for all the creepier aspects of online life, such as invasive social media, massive personal data collection, and obscenely smug TED Talks. Imagine a time when your privacy is constantly compromised by a tech giant that uses its liberal hippy-dippy corporate ethos to justify a terrifying not-so hidden agenda. Yes, it is the world of today presented as if it is the near future in James Ponsoldt’s The Circle (trailer here), which opens today in theaters following its premiere at the 2017 Tribeca Film Festival.

Mae Holland is starting in whatever touchy-feely euphemism The Circle uses for customer service, but she has cause for optimism, because many in the Maoist-sounding “Gang of 40” started there as well. However, she will have to maintain her user feedback score and get better about integrating her social life into the company’s cult-like extracurricular lifestyle. Unfortunately, a post about her childhood friend Mercer inspires a rash of cyber-stalkings from coworkers labeling him a “deer-killer.”

Although somewhat unnerved by his woes, Holland has already drunk deeply from the Kool Aid at this point, especially when she becomes the poster child for the company’s “transparent” world view. Like a dystopian Big Brother contestant, Holland agrees to broadcast her life on The Circle around the clock, with only limited work-arounds for nature calls. This inevitably leads to fissures with her family and ultimately leads to tragedy.

It is all scary as heck, but none of what we see in the film seems speculative in a science fiction kind of way. The genie is already out of the bottle. Watching the privacy issues play out in The Circle is like revisiting the warnings of media manipulation in Sidney Lumet’s Network. We’re already there and beyond, but we can still appreciate the caustic wit of Paddy Chayefsky’s screenplay.

Ponsoldt and David Eggars’ adaptation of the latter’s novel lacks a similar edge, but it does offer insight into why we collectively so often knowingly and willingly facilitate the erosion of our own privacy, against our better judgement. Yet, Holland’s ultimate rebellion is not on behalf of privacy, but for its complete eradication on scrupulously equal terms. Arguably, what is most terrifying about The Circle is that it will not be seen as terrifying by millions of government-trusting, privacy and free speech-sacrificing millennials. This is especially true of the scheme Holland and charismatic company founder Eamon Bailey hatch to integrate elections into The Circle and make voting mandatory.

Casting Tom Hanks as Bailey, the Zennish overlord of The Circle, masterly subverts his Speilberg-and-apple pie image. Relative unknown Emma Watson is believably malleable as Holland, but she conspicuously struggles to carry the film as the on-screen-99%-of-the-time lead. On the other hand, John Boyega brings a nervy intelligence to the picture as morally-troubled Circle inventor Ty Laffite, but it is hard to understand why his character would collaborate with Holland’s ultimate plans. Still, Glenne Headley and the late, great Bill Paxton are quite touching as Holland’s confused mother and MS-stricken father. However, the breakthrough turn comes from scene-stealing Karen Gillan as Holland’s college friend Annie, a disillusioned and displaced Gang of 40 member.

There are moments in The Circle that will set your teeth on edge because they are so spot-on. The Circle “campus” is a hotbed of Orwellian doublespeak, embracing slogans like “privacy is theft” and “secrets are lies.” Unfortunately, it is not even clear whether The Circle shares our alarm. This is a provocative film that should not be summarily dismissed, but it suffers from a weak lead and a lack of clarity of purpose. Rather a hodgepodge of mismatched near-future dystopian tropes, The Circle opens today (4/28) in New York at the AMC Empire, following its premiere screenings at the Tribeca Film Festival.

Tribeca ’16: A Hologram for the King

Any country that prohibits the consumption of alcohol is a terrible place for a mid-life crisis. Most inconveniently, Alan Clay finds himself in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, just as his personal life and finances reach their nadir. He has one last chance to make a career-saving sale in Tom Tykwer’s A Hologram for the King (trailer here), which is now playing in New York after screening as part of this year’s Tribeca Film Festival.

How did the desperate-looking Clay get assigned the KSA account? He once cracked a joke that made one of the dozens of Saudi princes laugh. It is not much, but his company is looking to play any angle. They need the King to buy their holographic tele-conferencing software or face shareholder wrath. Unfortunately, Clay does not encounter the same sense of urgency when he finally arrives in Jeddah.

For the severely jet-lagged Clay, just getting to King Abdullah Economic City (KEAC) will be a challenge. Constantly over-sleeping the shuttle, Clay must repeatedly book Yousef as his private driver and the film’s comic relief. Once on-site, he quickly realizes his software pitch has been back-burnered. Nothing can happen without the King, who is constantly traveling abroad.

Clay’s team will also need better connectivity to make their pitch but they are being unceremoniously quartered in a stifling hot tent. The only staffer who will talk to him in the main building is Hanne, a Danish contractor who can at least hook him up with some contraband booze. To make matters worse, the suspicious growth on his back seems to get worse. However, his luck might finally change when he is examined by Dr. Zahra Hakem, one of the few women doctors in the KSA.

Seriously, it is hard to believe Dr. Hakem would ever treat a male westerner in a country where women are not allowed to drive (as the film duly depicts), but it allows a rather appealing romance to develop between the doctor and her patient. In fact, Tykwer’s adaptation of the Dave Eggers source novel readily acknowledges the severe theocratic regulations and the frequent public executions as a fact of Saudi life. However, it seems to reserve its outrage, since there are apparently work-arounds available for western expats. That is all well and fine for booze, but being LGBT in the KSA is still a dangerous proposition.

In fact, we get a sense of this intolerance when Clay starts his unlikely courtship of Dr. Hakem. Evidently, they can only steal a kiss while snorkeling along the sea floor. In terms of economic and geo-political concerns, the film clearly argues China is a far more sinister threat to the West, which is admittedly tough to argue with.

Tom Hanks does his Tom Hanks thing as Clay, but in this case his everyman is a bit more depressed and self-indicting. The halting romantic chemistry he develops with the charismatic Sarita Choudhury is quite engaging and quite convincingly played from a rational emotional perspective. (Again, it is hard to believe things could ever get so far in the opened-minded KSA, but why let reality stand in the way of a nice movie subplot?) On the other hand, Sidse Babett Knudsen (also seen in the first-rate Courted) is criminally under-employed as Hanne.

Arguably, Hologram invests greater symbolic significance in a cyst than any film since Richard E. Grant went nuts in How to Get Ahead in Advertising. Don’t worry, this one doesn’t talk. Strangely, Tykwer manages to humanize our friends the Saudis to a remarkable extent, even though the film will absolutely discourage viewers from visiting. Not essential by any means, A Hologram for the King is modestly recommended for those looking for a rom-com with mature adults, which are few and far between. It is now open in New York at the Lincoln Plaza, following its screenings during the 2016 Tribeca Film Festival.

NYFF ’15: Bridge of Spies

In 1986, Soviet Refusenik Natan Sharansky gained his freedom through the final Cold War exchange conducted on Berlin’s Glienicke Bridge. Brooklyn attorney James B. Donovan found himself negotiating the first. At trial, he had represented convicted Soviet spy Col. Vilyam Fisher, a.k.a. Rudolf Abel, a British born KGB agent, who had narrowly escaped Stalin’s purges during his time with the NKVD. Presumably, the Russians will want him back, just as America wants Francis Gary Powers safely returned. To negotiate the deal in his unofficial capacity, Donovan navigates the murky political waters of Berlin during the final days of the construction of the Wall in Steven Spielberg’s Bridge of Spies (trailer here), which screens as a Main Slate selection of the 53rd New York Film Festival.

Donovan the kind of stickler lawyer you do not want to be haggling with. Since he was also a junior member of the Nuremberg prosecution team, the Brooklyn Bar helpfully nominates him as Abel’s attorney. Although not thrilled, Donovan does his duty more diligently than anyone anticipates. Nevertheless, Abel is convicted, but conveniently not sentenced to death.

Sometime after U-2 pilot Powers’ capture and show trial, Donovan receives a strange overture from East Germany. With the CIA’s blessing but no official portfolio, Donovan tries to negotiate an Abel-for-Powers deal, but it is complicated by the arrest of American economics student Frederic Pryor on transparently bogus espionage charges. Suddenly the dodgy Wolfgang Vogel representing the GDR wants to swap Pryor for Abel, while the Berlin KGB station chief is willing to deal Powers for Abel.

While there is a bit of le Carré equivalency baked into screenwriters Matt Charman and Joel & Ethan Cohen’s depiction of the respective intelligence agencies, there is no denying the oppressive bleakness of East Berlin. Production designer Adam Stockhausen’s team vividly recreates the rubble strewn streets, bombed out blocks, and ominously imposing Berlin Wall. To his credit, Spielberg also shows exactly what happened to those who tried to scale it.

Of course, Donovan is exactly the sort of exceptional everyman that has become Hanks’ specialty. While he brings an instant credibility and a certain comfort level to the character, he never delivers any surprises—only sniffles as Donovan endures an awful cold. On the other hand, Mark Rylance is weirdly mesmerizing as the off-center Abel, precisely because of his restraint. It is like his face is a Rorschach test, which you cannot stop staring at.

For traditional villainy, Sebastian Koch chews plenty of scenery as Vogel, but he gets somewhat shortchanged on screen time. However, nobody is as embarrassingly unnecessary as Amy Ryan, playing an underwritten Mary Donovan, whose sole function in the film is to hassle her husband to bring back Harrods marmalade from his supposed fishing trip to Scotland.

Thanks to Stockhausen and cinematographer Janusz Kaminski, Bridge looks terrific, but it is relentlessly over-scored by Thomas Newman. Instead of evoking a noir atmosphere, he indulges in symphonic sentimentality. Granted, it is a Spielberg movie, but it sounds too much like a Spielberg movie. Just imagine what could have been if someone like the great Tomasz Stanko (a Krzysztof Komeda protégé) had composed its themes instead. Regardless, there is plenty of striking work on view, including that of Mr. Dreamworks himself, who still has eerily keen instincts for maximizing the emotional impacts of his shots. Recommended for reasonably enthusiastically for fans of Spielberg and espionage movies, Bridge of Spies screens again tonight (10/5) at Alice Tully Hall as part of the 2015 NYFF, in advance of its October 16^th theatrical release.

NYFF ’13: Captain Phillips

In 2009, when the MV Maersk Alabama was hijacked by Somali pirates, it was carrying 5,000 tons of African relief supplies.  No matter how desperate the poverty of its outlaw assailants might have been, waylaying the ship would not make the world a better place. This detail is acknowledged (but hardly belabored) in Paul Greengrass’s serviceable Captain Phillips (trailer here), which opened the 51^st New York Film Festival last night.

The facts of the Maersk Alabama case are well known and Greengrass sticks to them relatively faithfully.  Although an experienced merchant officer, Captain Richard Phillips is a little uneasy about his Oman to Mombassa cargo haul, for good reasons.  Their route will take them past the Somali coast, soon after the release of a heightened piracy advisory.

Of course, the ship is attacked by pirates—twice.  The first time, Phillips’ well drilled crew foils their assault through evasive maneuvers and improvised trickery.  Unfortunately, they cannot shake Abduwali Abdukhadir Muse and his three criminal accomplices the next day. However, the crew fights back admirably, preventing the pirates from assuming operational control of the vessel.  Yet, in a frustrating twist of fate, Captain Phillips is taken hostage aboard the Maersk Alabama’s lifeboat.

As a tick-tock hijacking thriller, CP is not bad at all, but it suffers when compared to Tobias Lindholm’s recently released A Hijacking, which is superior film in every respect.  Frankly, Greengrass’s film can be divided into two halves, the first be considerably stronger than the second.  CP is indeed quite riveting when following Phillips and his hidden crew as they sneak about and devise ways to communicate with each other.

Oddly though, the film slackens somewhat once the action moves to the lifeboat.  The tension ought to increase in such a considerably more confined space, but Greengrass cranks up the deterministic angst to such an extent, it starts to undercut the suspense.  Captain Phillips almost serves as a Greek chorus, warning Muse it will all end in tears.

Still, Muse’s already much quoted and scoffed at rejoinder “maybe in America” (as in maybe you western capitalists have other options besides piracy) poorly serves the rest of the film.  It is not nearly as didactic as that soundbite suggests, making its inclusion in trailers an utterly baffling marketing decision.  Greengrass bends over backwards to portray Muse and his cohorts as the pawns of shadowy masterminds, who have abandoned them to their fate.  Somehow though, he never spells out their possible connection to al-Qaeda linked al Shabaab and he certainly isn’t about to get into the whole Islam thing.

Despite an inconsistent New England accent, Tom Hanks finds the appropriate balance of world weariness and Yankee gravitas for the title character.  He goes all out down the stretch in hopes of another little gold statue with interesting if imperfect results.  Barkhad Abdi also deftly walks his tightrope, expressing Muse’s erratically violent nature as well as his metaphorical (and literal) hunger pains. 

Yet, the real stars of CP is the imposing Maersk Alabama (or rather the nearly identical Maersk Alexander, which serves as its stand-in) and the U.S. Navy.  The ships (including the USS Truxtun doubling for the USS Bainbridge) look awe-inspiring and the Navy Seals are cool, calm, and deadly professional.  Even though the Navy employs forms of deception, not once will reasonable viewers question the actions they take.

Greengrass shows a tremendous facility for shooting in and around the hulking ships and making the complicated chain of events perfectly clear and easy to follow.  As a technical feat, the movie is hugely impressive.  Yet, it lacks the insight and soul-draining intensity of its Danish counterpart.  Reasonably taut and tight, Captain Phillips is still a good sight better than Green Zone would lead you to suspect.  Recommended on balance, Captain Phillips opens wide October 11^th, after kicking off this year’s NYFF.