SAS: Red Notice

There has already been a “Die Hard on a train,” so that must make this “Under Siege II in the Chunnel,” naturally with a British accent. Fortunately, when a rogue mercenary outfit takes a Paris-bound train hostage, a highly-skilled SAS commando also happens to be on-board. Tom Buckingham is determined to bring them down and protect his [hopefully future] fiancée in Magnus Martens’ SAS: Red Notice, adapted from Andy McNab’s novel, which releases this Tuesday on-demand.

Tom Buckingham is a blue blood more in the tradition of Elizabeth than Harry. Despite his vast estates, he believes in doing his duty for queen and country as a member of Special Air Service (SAS) counter-terrorism force. When his country calls, he hauls, even if that means leaving behind the not-always-so-understanding Dr. Sophie Hart. They are very different people, but he still intends to propose in Paris, after completing his mostly successful mission against the so-called “Black Swans.”

William Lewis’ Swans were caught on cell-phone video torching a Georgian Republic village to make way for a Britgaz pipeline. Of course, the British PM and his deep-state military advisor George Clements hired them for the job, but they publicly disavow all knowledge. The SAS executed a Red Notice on the Swans, but they did not secure Lewis’s daughter and presumptive successor Grace, or her thuggish brother (and pseudo-rival) Olly. No mere loose ends, the Lewis siblings take over the Chunnel train as part of a complicated plot to embarrass the PM and avenge their father, but they didn’t anticipate interference from a “player” like Buckingham.

So, in less than six months, Ruby Rose has gone from playing the Die Hard-style hero in The Doorman to playing the Die Hard villain in Red Notice. She chews the scenery serviceably as Grace Lewis, but she still can’t match the great Tom Wilkinson’s slyness as Papa Black Swan.

Sundance ’18: The Happy Prince

Most author’s biographies are boozy stories, but to be fair to Oscar Wilde, he had more than his share of sorrows to drown. He also had the defense mechanism of his caustic humor, but it started to fail him during his final years of disgrace. After his release from a British prison, Wilde lived like a refugee in France and Italy, but the “Bosie Affair” continued to reverberate. First-time helmer Rupert Everett directs himself returning to the role he previously played on-stage (Hare’s The Judas Kiss) in his literary biopic, The Happy Prince, which screens during this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

Due to his disastrous libel action against the Marquess of Queensberry, Wilde was imprisoned and humiliated, but he was still profoundly attached to his nemesis’s son, Lord Alfred “Bosie” Douglas. Broken by the scandal, Wilde now survives on a small allowance provided by his long-suffering wife Constance and the charity of a small group of friends, including novelist Reggie Turner and his besotted literary executor Robbie Ross. However, Wilde pushes away Ross and risks permanently severing ties with Constance when Douglas joins him in exile.

Everett has garnered raves for his performance as Wilde and raspberries for filmmaking prowess, but frankly Happy Prince is perfectly presentable. Despite the exquisitely cinematic locations (seriously, we should all be tarred with scandal if it allows us to stay in such picturesque digs), Everett’s film is meant to be a memory play in the tradition of literary theater. It meanders, because that is what the genre does.

Regardless, Everett is downright spooky channeling Wilde’s acerbic wit and soul-weary moroseness. To his credit, he does not sanitize the literary icon, fully expressing all the bitterness and depression sapping his strength. Yet, there is something quite poignant about the rapport he develops with Colin Morgan, as the entitled Douglas. Problematic in several ways, Morgan is both a callow and sentimental figure, which is a tricky role to play, but Morgan pulls it off nicely. Executive producer Colin Firth basically roller-skates in and out as Turner, the concerned bystander, but Tom Wilkinson adds some much-needed energy and flair, as Father Dunne. He literally appears in deathbed scene, but he still invigorates the film.

Fans of literary dramas will be pleased by the film’s classy package. Cinematographer John Conroy gives it a gauzy, painterly look, while Gabriel Yared’s score isn’t particularly memorable after the fact, but it always unobtrusively supports the drama on screen. Expectations might be a factor into how Happy Prince is received. It is not a definitive statement on homophobia or a brilliant directorial debut, but it is a very nice British period piece. Regular viewers of Merchant-Ivory films and PBS’s Masterpiece will find it satisfying, while they wait for the next big mini from Julian Fellowes. Respectfully recommended, The Happy Prince screens again today (1/28) in Salt Lake, as part of the 2018 Sundance Film Festival.

Sundance ’18: The Catcher was a Spy

According to Michael Frayn’s play Copenhagen, Werner Heisenberg’s commitment to Germany’s atomic bomb program was an ambiguous uncertainty that bedeviled the great Danish physicist Niels Bohr years after the war ended. An American OSS agent had to make that determination based on a few hours observation and a brief conversation. He was not a physicist, he was a professional baseball player. Nicholas Dawidoff’s bestselling chronicle of Morris “Moe” Berg’s WWII service is now dramatized in Ben Lewin’s The Catcher was a Spy, which screens during this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

Berg was a member of the Boston Red Sox, but please do not hold that against him. He was a dependable but not spectacular journeyman player, who held roster spots on several teams. He spoke several languages, including German and Italian, and regularly read foreign policy journals. As a result, he had the foresight to film Tokyo harbor during a 1934 exhibition tour, well before Pearl Harbor. Once the war started, Berg’s talents and his 16mm film attracted the attention of “Wild Bill” Donovan and the OSS, the CIA’s predecessor agency.

Eager for field work, Berg gets his chance when Donovan orders him to prevent the retreating Germans from abducting or killing Italian scientist Edoardo Amaldi, with the help of Dutch physicist Samuel Goudsmit and Major Robert Furman, the Manhattan Project’s intelligence chief (who would later oversee construction of the Pentagon). However, their Italian mission will lead to a trickier assignment in Zurich. Berg is to meet with Heisenberg, assess the status of the German Atomic program, determine whether Heisenberg is trying to advance or hinder its progress, and if the former proves true, kill him.

Without question, Berg is one of the great, under-heralded figures of World War II history. Arguably, he is the sort of renaissance man you just do not find anymore. He was also a “confirmed bachelor,” which led to plenty of speculation that Robert Rodat’s screenplay continues to stoke. Be that as it may, the film also nicely captures the intriguing milieu of the Donovan-era OSS.

Paul Rudd is does some of his best work bringing out the personal contradictions of the deeply patriotic and borderline-savant-like Berg. He also develops some ambiguously potent chemistry with Sienna Miller in the otherwise under-written role of Berg’s lover, Estella Huni. Catcher is also packed with colorful and convincing supporting turns, including Paul Giamatti as the humanistic Goudsmit, Mark Strong as the evasive Heisenberg, and the great Tom Wilkinson as Paul Scherrer, the Swiss anti-Nazi physicist, who brokered the meeting between Berg and Heisenberg.

It is just tremendously refreshing to see a film that celebrates American intelligence operatives as heroes. It also thinks quite highly of scientists and soldiers. It is a fascinating true story and a well-crafted period production. Very highly recommended for fans of historical intrigue (like Bridge of Spies), The Catcher was a Spy screens again this morning (1/25) and Saturday (1/27) in Park City and Sunday (1/28) in Salt Lake, as part of the 2018 Sundance Film Festival.

This Beautiful Fantastic: What Makes Your Garden Grow?

Plants are a lot like animals. Their only purpose is to be eaten. They’re just not as tasty. Yet, for some reason, grouchy old Alfie Stephenson enjoys looking at them in his backyard garden. He is so fauna-crazed, he rats out his oddball next door neighbor to their landlord for the poor state of her untended back plot. She has a black-death thumb, but the crusty old curmudgeon will eventually help her tame her unruly garden in Simon Aboud’s This Beautiful Fantastic (trailer here), which opens today in New York.

Growing up in an orphanage most likely caused Bella Brown’s poor social skills. The OCD and germaphobia developed on their own. In Brown’s case, they are so pronounced, the make everyday living a challenge. Of course, the last thing she wants to do is spend time out in dirty, smelly nature. Unfortunately, she will have to knuckle-down or be evicted. At least, she has some help. Stephenson’s former cook Vernon will feed her well and he will use his dishes to extort some gardening advice from the old grouch.

Of course, Stephpenson will eventually change his opinion of the awkward Ms. Brown. She in turn will take a liking to a similarly eccentric patron at the library, where her employment hangs by a thread. Billy the inventor also provides a seed of inspiration for the children’s book she always meant to write.

In some outlets, TBF has been billed as a fantasy, because Brown spins a yarn about a steampunky Da Vinci-esque mechanical bird, but that rather overstates matters. Nevertheless, it is quite remarkable how well Aboud (Paul McCartney’s son-in-law) minimizes the quirkiness in favor of dry British wit. Naturally, the crafty Tom Wilkinson is his key ally in this respect. As Stephenson, he perfectly lands each and every acerbic line and maintains his dignity during the scenes of melodramatic rapprochement.

Frankly, as Ms. Brown, Jessica Brown Findlay (the Downton Abbey sister who dies in childbirth) is much more closely akin to Ally Sheedy in Breakfast Club than Audrey Tautou in Amélie. On the other hand, Andrew Scott piles on plenty of ah shucks charm as Vernon, channeling the likable Irish everyman of films like The Bachelor Weekend rather than his villainous Jim Moriarty persona.

Yes, it is predictable, but TBF manages to be plucky without ant saccharine sweetness. Again, Wilkinson’s contributions towards this end cannot be overstated. His arch voiceovers are some of the best you will hear in a film all year. Recommended for anyone who wants some polite British comedy with their tea and biscuits, This Beautiful Fantastic opens today (3/10) in New York, at the Village East.

Denial: The Lipstadt-Irving Libel Trial

Thanks to New York State’s wise libel tourism laws, reviewers of this film can refer to “historian” David Irving as a holocaust denier secure in the knowledge New York courts will not honor any foreign libel judgments against them deemed inconsistent with our own First Amendment rights. One would think the ugly spectacle of Irving suing American historian Deborah Lipstadt, forcing her to prove the Holocaust happened would have created a groundswell for libel law reform, but alas, it did not. The high stakes court case gets the big screen treatment in Mick Jackson’s Denial (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Irving was once a semi-credible historian, who garnered some favorable blurbs before crossing over to the dark side. By the time Lipstadt’s book Denying the Holocaust was published, he was a fringe figure, but he still had a knack for garnering media attention. In a potentially devastating act of libel tourism, Irving sued Lipstadt’s British publisher, Penguin UK, in British courts.

In an American court, Irving would have to prove Lipstadt’s words were both defamatory and the product of demonstrable malice, but in Britain Lipstadt would have to prove they were justifiable. As a result, Penguin’s legal team, notably including barrister Richard Rampton QC and solicitor Anthony Julius (in/famous for representing Princess Diana), had the responsibility of proving the Holocaust really happened and Irving knowingly and deliberately twisted the historical evidence to the contrary.

Mindful of the David-and-Goliath symbolism, Irving opted to represent himself in court. Again, due to the perversities of the British system, this also gave him some advantages over as Lipstadt as one of the opposing counsel. Still, the old “fool for a client” adage hasn’t remained in this long circulation for no reason.

Denial is at its best when it really digs into the blow-by-blow details of the trial. Rather logically, all of the litigious Irving’s dialogue in these scenes is adapted verbatim from the transcript. Watching the crafty Rampton lure the over-confident Irving into various logical-historical traps is gripping stuff. Unfortunately, Lipstadt’s overwrought outrage almost becomes insufferable. She is an accomplished academic, but Rachel Weiss plays her like a shticky Queens caricature incapable of controlling her emotions or her mouth.

When Weiss shuts up, Tom Wilkinson carries the day, portraying Rampton with all his customary panache and gravitas—and then some. He exudes the intelligence and charisma of a barrister you would want to be represented by. Similarly, as the Holocaust denier, Timothy Spall is aptly wily and sinister, in a tweedy British sort of way. Frustratingly, the terrific Irish character actor Andrew Scott (Jim Moriarty in the Cumberbatch Sherlock) does not have much to do as Julius except trying to rein in Lipstadt.

When it is smart, Denial is an intense and insightful film. When it is emotional, it gets a bit dumb, which goes to show the principles for success are not that much different on film than they are in the courtroom. Fortunately, old pros like Wilkinson and Spall keep things crackling. Recommended overall, Denial opens this Friday (9/30) at the Angelika Film Center downtown and the AMC Lincoln Square uptown.

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.

Burke & Hare: the Return of John Landis

William Burke and William Hare would definitely be considered working class, but they probably never put in an honest day’s labor in their lives. They do grasp some basic economics though. Edinburgh’s celebrated anatomy colleges have a large unmet demand for fresh cadavers. Even these two idiots understand how to increase the supply in John Landis’s Burke & Hare (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York at the IFC Center.

For those who have been wondering where Landis (the director of such iconic comedies as Animal House, The Blues Brothers, and An American Werewolf in London) has been for the last decade or so, he was back in the UK (amongst other places, presumably), where B&H was shot on location in Edinburgh and at the storied Ealing Studios. Indeed, B&H has a charming period look, evoking the spirit of early Hammer horror films and Roger Corman Poe adaptations (which Landis can probably quote chapter-and-verse).

The two Williams are not evil per se, but they are definitely low lives. Largely they sponge off Hare’s wife Lucky, who rents rooms to elderly pensioners. When one tenant passes away before settling for the month, she makes the lads dispose of the body. However, when they discover the ambitious Dr. Robert Knox will be five pounds a pop for fresh bodies, it opens up a whole new business venture for them. Of course, it also attracts some unwelcome attention.

Though there is plenty of gross-out humor and a not inconsiderable body count, B&H might be too gentle for many midnight screening patrons. Rather, the film has a nostalgic feel, nicely established with Angus the Hangman’s introductory tour of the city. The Hammer vibe is further reinforced by an appearance from the great Sir Christopher Lee as Old Joseph, one of the gruesome twosome’s early victims.

Andy Serkis obviously gets it, reveling in Hare’s roguish degeneracy. However, Simon Pegg’s put-upon shtick as Burke gets a little tiresome, particularly with the subplot involving the manipulations of a gold-digging actress he is smitten with. After all, according to the old nursery rhyme: “Burke’s the butcher, Hare’s the thief,” not the knebbish soft touch.

However, as Knox, “the boy who buys the beef,” Tom Wilkinson chews the scenery with relish, channeling Peter Cushing and Vincent Price as a sophisticated man of science led astray by his enthusiasm and arrogance. He even gets off a mother joke at his rival’s expense worthy of Tracy Morgan. Indeed, B&H has a great supporting cast, including Tim Curry as the clammy Dr. Alexander Monro and Downton Abbey’s Hugh Bonneville, as Lord Harrington, the Solicitor General.

With an epilogue that could almost, but not quite, be considered educational, B&H is strangely endearing for a film about grave-robbing cutthroats. Yet, Landis manages to keep the tone light and breezy, while paying homage to the more innocent costumed horror films of old. It is entertaining enough to lead movie lovers to hope it is the beginning a full-fledged return to narrative features for Landis (who has been a talking head in scores of recent documentaries, including American Grindhouse and Machete Maidens Unleashed). Amusing and atmospheric, B&H is definitely recommended for genre fans when it opens this Friday (9/9) at the IFC Center in New York.

Brits Behaving Badly: 44 Inch Chest

An aging football hooligan with a broken heart is not a pretty sight. At least Colin Diamond has friends willing to help make things right by kidnapping his wife’s lover. In between the beatings they inflict on the poor other man, they cuss up a blue streak and generally get on each others’ nerves in Malcolm Venville’s 44 Inch Chest (trailer here), a dark little morality play opening tomorrow in New York.

Aside from his money, middle-aged Diamond is not much of a catch, but he evidently loved his wife Liz with genuine ardor. When she announces her intention to leave, he completely breaks down mentally and emotionally. Fortunately, his mates have just the cure: the offending “Loverboy” tied up and ready to be killed at his leisure.

It is not exactly clear what Diamond’s friends ordinarily do for a living, except for Meredith, who seems to be something of a professional gambler with a Noel Coward demeanor. Naturally, he gets under the skin of Old Man Peanut, a homophobic, misogynistic misanthrope. Despite his smarmy exterior, Mal also seems to have an ocean of contempt bottled up inside him. Even Archie, the faithful mother’s boy, has no reservations regarding the premeditated execution of London’s unluckiest French waiter.

No one would ever want to spend any length of time with this ferocious Fab Four, but as on-screen heavies played by four of the best British character actors working in film today, they are jolly good expletive-laden fun. Ian McShane (a.k.a. Lovejoy) delivers Meredith’s cutting dialogue with panache, investing the film with an electric magnetism and sinister charm. As Peanut, John Hurt is compulsively watchable. Gaunt and twitchy, he looks like a feral cat and projects and similar sense of ill contained menace. Though their characters are not quite as sharply drawn, Stephen Dillane and Tom Wilkerson are unsettlingly effective conveying the not-so latent sociopathic impulses of Mal and Archie, respectively. The weakest link of Inch might actually be Ray Winstone, who does not leave nearly as strong an impression as the psychologically challenged Diamond.

Had Inch simply focused on its contemptible but entertaining supporting cast, letting them start at the beginning, strutting and cursing their way through to the end, it would have been a very satisfying picture. Unfortunately, the script by Louis Mellis and David Scinto (the writing team responsible for Sexy Beast) craters under its own narrative pretensions, leaving audiences to wonder ultimately what was the point of all that.

Though too clever for its own good, the intense supporting performances from the Gang of Four certainly give Inch a distinctive flair that is never dull. Still, viewers should be specifically warned, the film’s profane language makes Mamet’s dialogue sound like a Hallmark Channel original production. It opens tomorrow (1/29) at the Village East.