Those About to Die, on Peacock

Vespasian is considered one of the better emperors (especially compared to Nero), but his death was fast approaching in the year 79 A.D. It will take almost 400 years for Rome to fall, but you might assume the Roman Empire’s days are also limited from the riots and corruption plaguing Roman society. Fortunately for the elites, blood sport still keeps the mob distracted, at least to an extent, but that sure makes it rough to be a gladiator in creator Robert Rodat’s 10-part Those About to Die, which premieres today on Peacock.

Vespasian subjugated Judea, but his oldest son and presumptive heir, Titus Flavianus, has taken the Judean Queen as his consort. Rome has not exactly welcomed her with open arms, but the locals are often hostile to new arrivals from the far-flung corners of the Empire.

That is even more true for Cala and her children from North Africa. When the youngest daughter, Jula, is assaulted by a Centurion, her older sister, Aura fatally defends her honor. Immediately, she is consigned into slavery as her punishment. Their unfortunate older brother Kwame suffers the same fate when he objects.

Off to Rome they go, but Cala follows with Jula, determined to buy their freedom. Unfortunately, Aura is purchased by the wife of Marsus, a powerful and perverse senator, who covets the emperor’s laurels for himself. Ironically, Kwame opts for a life as a gladiator, because they have a higher life expectancy than slaves sent to the mines. Obviously, buying the freedom of either children will not be an option in their current stations, so Cala’s bides her time working in the gambling salon operated by Tenax, the focal anti-hero.

Tenax has a plan to challenge Rome’s social and economic order by starting a fifth chariot racing faction. He has the best driver, Scorpus a hedonistic but winning charioteer based on a historical figure. He also has four deceptively small but incredibly fast and strong horses, purchased from three Andalusian brothers, who intend to stay in Rome to build careers as horse-trainers (at least that was the secret intention of the elder two and they figure their baby bro will reluctantly stay, despite his discomfort with Roman ways).

However, Tenax needs a powerful silent partner to convince the Emperor to grant the Gold Faction’s charter. Titus’s psychotic younger brother Domitian Flavianus is perfectly placed to do just that. He resents his father designating Titus as his heir. The younger Flavianus also needs money quickly, to cover his mounting debts and the gold he embezzled from the treasury. Consequently, agrees to Tenax’s proposal, but he makes no secret of his contempt for the grubby commoner. Likewise, he clearly takes an instant dislike to Kwame when he observes the gladiator in training.

Rodat’s loose adaption of the book by Daniel P. Mannix (who also wrote the source novel for Disney’s The Fox and the Hound), definitely leans into the decadent and violent aspects of Flavian Rome. The scenes of gladiatorial combat are far more graphic than anything seen in Ridley Scott’s Gladiator, while the many sex scenes (of multiple persuasions) leave nothing to the imagination. At times, it almost feels like a starter kit for Caligula. However, it is anchored by a powerful story of a mother fighting for her children’s freedom.

That unironic pursuit of freedom makes Those About to Die superior to the Spartacus series, which can never be forgiven for turning the iconic battle-cry of solidarity, “I am Spartacus,” into a self-aggrandizing howl of personal affirmation. However, the new series still represents a decidedly mixed bag.

One of the best aspects of Rodat’s adaptation is the messy, overlapping, and sometimes contradictory nature of the alliances. Sometimes, by working against their sworn enemies, characters cause complications for transactional allies, which leads to further problems down the line.

One Life: Sir Anthony Hopkins as Sir Nicholas Winton

Sir Nicholas Winton has been called the British Schindler, but his heroic rescue work went almost completely unrecognized until 1988. Of course, hardly anyone knew who Oskar Schindler was before the 1993 film. To this day, few people have heard of Varian Fry and the noble Raoul Wallenberg died in a Soviet prison, most likely sometime in the late 1950s. The modest Winton never sought fame, so he is surprised when it belatedly finds him in James Hawes’s One Life, which opens Friday in theaters.

When the National Socialists invaded the Sudetenland, most of the UK government buried their heads in the sand, but a young stockbroker of Jewish German heritage sprang into action. Hinton arrived in Prague as a representative of the British Committee for Refugees from Czechoslovakia, who believed his expertise in finance and bureaucratic paperwork could come in handy. The local chair Doreen Warriner was focusing on the most at-risk political refugees, because she barely had the bandwidth to handle them.

However, Winton is so struck by the appalling conditions endured by the largely but not exclusively Jewish children in makeshift camps, he launches an ambitious campaign that becomes known as the Kindertransport. British immigration authorities are not quite as obstructionist as the notoriously antisemitic Breckinridge Long in the U.S. State Department, but they require a fifty-pound deposit to insure the children would not burden the state, in addition to visas and pre-arranged foster parents to care for them. Back in England, Winton starts plugging away, with the help of his committee colleagues and his mother Babi, who was hard to say no to.

It is pretty mind-blowing Winton and his colleagues conducted this major fundraising campaign and logistical challenge using type-writers and regular mail service. However, the anti-Jewish hatred they encountered is depressingly commonplace in 2024. What would Winton think about his Labour Party’s persistent scandals involving antisemitism?

Screenwriters Lucinda Coxon and Nick Drake go out of their way to point out Winton’s left-leaning politics. Yet, the film takes on a new sense of urgency post 10/7. (In a twist of fate, its UK debut came less than a week after Hamas's savage mass murders, abductions, and weaponized rapes.)

Whether or not you can push outside events out of your mind, Sir Anthony Hopkins is still a marvel as the late-1980s Winton. He portrays the righteous rescuer with deep sincerity and humility that is very moving. You might not pick Hopkins and Johnny Flynn out of a crowd and assume they were related, but he plays 1930s Winton with similarly keen earnestness. We quickly believe they are the same man, seen decades apart.

The Virtuoso, Co-Starring Academy Award Winner Sir Anthony Hopkins

There is really only one vocation that studio films consistently show respect for the professionalism and commitment of its practitioners. Of course, that would be the contract killer. Surely, there must be some hitmen out there who really don’t want to think about what they are doing. They’re just punching the clock like the rest of us. Maybe, but that certainly would not be the nameless protagonist-narrator of Nick Stagliano’s The Virtuoso, which releases Friday in select theaters and on-demand.

For someone as careful as “The Virtuoso,” he sure likes to talk about what he does. Granted, it is all probably interior monologue, but that makes his use of second and third-person even weirder. Maybe it comes with the territory. He is good at his job, but he is tired of messy, public spectacle mob hits. It is just clean, accidental corporate and government work for him from here on out. Unfortunately, his booking agent, “The Mentor,” pushes him to accept a rush gig without his usual prep time. As a result, an innocent family became collateral damage. The only thing for the Virtuoso do is get back on the horse, so he takes another weird assignment from the Mentor.

He does not know who the target will be. Only that the unknown subject will be at a diner in a small Lynchian Poconos village, at a certain time. It turns out a lot of shady characters are there for the Early Bird Special, including a crooked deputy and possibly another pro.

Seriously, there is more voiceover narration in The Virtuoso than a full season of I Led 3 Lives. It thinks it is being very clever, but the twist means our very cautious cast of characters are deliberately complicating their plans and objectives. When you get right down to it, the entire scheme is hard to buy into.

On the other hand, The Virtuoso has Sir Anthony Hopkins in his first film since winning his second Oscar for Best Actor, which apparently is now the biggest award the Academy has to offer. Admittedly, this is a grubby little noir thriller, but Hopkins has a terrific scene early on that proves he can bring his A-game to any film he happens to appear in.

Mereilles’ The Two Popes, on Netflix

Pope Benedict XVI listens to Thelonious Monk. Pope Francis listens to ABBA. That alone pretty well tips the scales in Benedict’s favor. They might have booth spoken for God, but they are still mortal men. Yet, despite their political-theological differences they find they faith still unites them in Fernando Meirelles’ The Two Popes, which premieres today on Netflix.

Jorge Mario Bergoglio, the future Pope Francis, had no desire to be pontiff, but he found himself the chief runner-up when Pope Benedict was elected by the Vatican conclave. Disillusioned by the new Pope’s theological conservatism, Cardinal Bergoglio returns to Argentina and considers resigning from the College of Cardinals.

Just when Bergoglio petitions Pope Benedict to allow his resignation, the Pope summons him to Rome. The Holy See has been rocked by the Vatican bank scandal and Benedict’s health is in decline, but not his mind. Both men are at a crossroads, but they will have to have their doctrinal debates before they can get to the really profound truths regarding the Church and themselves.

In many ways, The Two Popes is a surprisingly humanistic portrait of two men who both served in one of the most influential positions on Earth. Although it is glaringly obvious Meirelles and screenwriter Anthony McCarton are more sympathetic to the liberalism of Francis, they still treat Benedict with a good deal of respect. Arguably, the film humanizes both Popes to a great extent.

Regardless, what makes the film is the remarkable casting. Both Sir Anthony Hopkins and Jonathan Pryce are absolute dead-ringers for Benedict and Francis, respectively. Of course, they both also happen to be very fine actors, but Hopkins finds more humor in his portrayal of the German Pope—and thereby creates an even more complex and human portrait.

King Lear: Modern and Quicker, on Prime Video

The pseudo-historical Leir of Celtic Britain actually regained his throne with the help of the French and his youngest daughter Cordelia, but that was no fun for Shakespeare. Everything about his Lear had to be tragic. That makes it a heck of a role to play. When Sir Anthony Hopkins played “Sir,” the actor preparing to portray King Lear in The Dresser a few years ago, it probably gave a lot of people ideas that he makes good on now. Hopkins stars in Richard Eyre’s modernized and somewhat abridged King Lear (trailer here), which premieres on Prime Video this Friday.

It is a slightly dystopian Britain, but the narrative is still Lear. You know, one king with three daughters. He tries to divide his kingdom among the triumvirate, but the youngest daughter, who loves him best, refuses to play that game. A cold war quickly develops between the two ambitious sisters, egged on by Edmund, the illegitimate son of the Earl of Gloucester. Right, that Lear.

For the most part, the stylized setting is rather effective. Eyre’s Lear often shares a kinship with Ralph Fiennes’ Coriolanus, in the way they depict modern warfare and a militaristic milieu. Plus, many scenes were shot in and around the imposing Dover Castle, which is quite a dramatic backdrop. However, the sequences of the mad Lear scuffling through an open-air shopping district feel like an ill-advised Beckett production.

Regardless, Hopkins is definitely a Lear to be reckoned with, encompassing all the bluster and tragedy that have made the character so iconic. Frankly, it is the Lear we would hope for and expect from him, but he also happens to be fronting an incredibly deep ensemble. You know it is a big cast when a knighted actor and a former Doctor Who appear rather late in the credits (Sir John Standing, memorably dignified as Gloucester’s Butler, and Christopher Eccleston as Oswald, Goneril’s steward).

Emma Thompson, Emily Watson, and Florence Pugh from Lady Macbeth are also arguably quite a dream team as the three daughters. Thompson is wonderfully Machiavellian as Goneril (a name that has fortunately fallen out of favor), while Pugh is quite poignant as Cordelia, but Watson’s Regan suffers when compared to Thompson. Andrew Scott continues to be one of the best character actors in the business with his intense turn as Edgar, Gloucester’s legitimate heir. However, the most likely award nominees should be the two Jims: Downtown Abbey’s Jim Carter as Kent and Jim Broadbent as Gloucester, both of whom give terrific, deeply absorbing performances.

Eyre’s adaptation is really quite faithful, shotgunning every notable plot point into one hour and fifty-five minutes. He also keeps the language and the general tone of Shakespeare’s play, while cinematographer Ben Smithard (whose classy credits include Viceroy’s House and I, Anna) gives it all a sinister sheen. It might be unusually svelte for a Shakespeare production, but it is still a very well-put-together package. Highly recommended, King Lear starts streaming this Friday (9/28), on Amazon Prime.

Solace: Sir Anthony Hopkins Pursues a Serial Killer

Even though the Marvel Comics villain Destiny had precognitive powers, the X-Men still usually defeated her and the Brotherhood of [Evil] Mutants, although often under rather pyrrhic terms. Sometimes knowing the future just isn’t enough. Retired police doctor John Clancy has limited powers of prescience, yet he was still unable to prevent his daughter’s death from leukemia. He is still handy to have around during an investigation. Unfortunately, the serial killer he will investigate has the same powers, except they are even stronger in Afonso Poyart’s long-awaited Solace (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Special Agent Joe Merriweather is so frustrated in his hunt for an elusive serial killer, he tries to lure his former colleague Clancy back as a consultant. Frankly, it is sort of impressive Merriweather even picked up on the clues linking the cases. Naturally, Clancy is reluctant but something about the cases stimulates his Spidey sense. As to be expected, he initially clashes with Merriweather’s headshrinker partner, Agent Katherine Cowles, but she warms to him when she realizes he is the real deal. He also takes a liking to her, which makes his visions of her potential murder rather upsetting.

It turns out, all the victims had fatal diseases that were mostly undiagnosed, but on the verge of taking a horribly painful turn. Before long, Dr. Clancy realizes they are hunting someone much like himself, but more powerful, engaged in a spree of “mercy” killings. Things get really complicated when the adversaries start using their powers to get the drop on each other.

The good news is Solace is way better than you might have heard—truly legitimately so and not just as a function of low expectations. Reportedly, Solace was originally developed as a sequel to Se7en, but it is hard to see that lineage in the final film, aside from both having serial killer plots in common. Frankly, that is just as well. Solace is much more life-affirming film and often surprisingly clever. Arguably, it is miraculously cohesive considering how many screenwriters had a hand in its screenplay, including some pretty prestigious but uncredited scribes.

Of course, the commercial potential of a serial killer movie starring Sir Anthony Hopkins is self-evident. Although worlds removed from Hannibal Lecter (who nonetheless haunts the film like a ghost in the attic), Hopkins is terrific as the world-weary Clancy. He makes the woo-woo believable and gives a rousing third act defense of life should raise the hair on the back of everyone’s neck and ought to earn the film a robust following with pro-life, anti-euthanasia activists.

Once again, Jeffrey Dean Morgan proves he is one of the most under-rated actors working today, despite his high-profile work in Walking Dead, Watchmen, and dozens of other shows and films. As Merriweather, he gives the film a human grounding and develops a genuine sense of camaraderie with Hopkins. Colin Farrell takes his time showing up, but he makes the most of it when he does, creeping the scene up and chewing the scenery as the psychic killer, Charles Ambrose. He and Hopkins have some electric scenes together, sizing each other up and trying to out-brain each other. Australian rapper Abbie Cornish basically tries to get by on distant reserve as Cowles and she mostly gets away with it, because all eyes are really on Hopkins and Farrell.

Poyart really has a fitting sensibility for Solace, which is stylistically similar to his breakout Brazilian calling card 2 Rabbits, except this film features dizzying visions of possible futures, whereas his previous film was dominated by super-kinetic context-supplying rewinds. It all comes together, thanks in large measure to Sir Anthony. Recommended without reservation for fans of serial killer thrillers, Solace opens this Friday (12/16) in New York, at the Cinema Village (but screening times are limited).

Misconduct: The Whole Film is Out of Order

Two profoundly unpopular professions are about to be pitted against each other. It will be arrogant Big Pharma exec versus corner-cutting ambulance chaser. They should also throw in some biased journalists and crooked politicians. Do gold-diggers and assassins count? In any case, there will be scandal and litigation aplenty in Shintaro Shimosawa’s Misconduct (trailer here), which opens tomorrow in New York.

Arthur Denning is fabulous rich, but he has his hands full. In addition to managing the fallout from a disaster experimental drug trial, his trophy lover Emily Hynes has been kidnapped for ransom. Denning genuinely seems to be interested in getting her back, so he hires a pair of hostage recovery specialists. However, there is something funny about Hynes’ abduction, as we learn when the film rewinds a month or so.

Don’t you just love jumbled in media res openings? In this case, it is especially confused, because it sends decidedly mixed signals with respect to Denning’s character. Apparently, the real protagonist is Ben Cahill, a blow-dried mouthpiece, who has thrown himself into his work instead of properly dealing with his wife’s miscarriage. Cahill will file a class action suit against Denning based on information illegally obtained from his old flame, Emily Hynes. Yes, she is definitely up to something. We soon learn Hynes is planning to fake her own abduction. It is a convoluted scheme that somehow involves a mysterious Korean assassin-enforcer known as “The Account,” which has to be the saddest criminal nickname ever.

Misconduct is an absolute narrative mess, which is too bad, because there are a few workable bits and pieces in there. If Shimosawa had openly invited viewers to sympathize with Denning, much like Freddy Heineken in Kidnapping Mr. Heineken or Kingo Gondo in High and Low, the film might have gotten some place. Julia Stiles’ foul mouthed kidnapping specialist also has potential, but she disappears for most of the film. Instead, we largely have to watch the pseudo-triangle of Josh Duhamel, Alice Eve, and Malin Akerman, three actors who seem to work a lot, but nobody really understands why. At least Akerman helps her case with a wonderfully vampy femme fatale turn as Hynes.

Sir Anthony Hopkins shows flashes of the old brilliance as Denning, but there is only so much he can do with the underwritten, contradictory role. Sadly, Al Pacino continues his slow decline, going down shouting as Cahill’s sleazy senior partner, Charles Abams. International superstar Lee Byung-hun looks utterly bored in his scenes as The Accountant, for good reason. To his credit, Glen Powell brings more dignity than the film deserves as Cahill’s unheeded voice-of-reason office mate, Doug Fields, whereas Duhamel and Eve are so dull and plastic-looking, they sort of make a fitting couple as the Cahills.

Misconduct could have just been a cheesy B-movie. There is plenty of room in the world for another, especially since Akerman gives it some kick. However, screenwriters Simon Boyes & Adam Mason rip-off (and water-down) the twist ending that really launched the legal thriller craze in 1987, pre-Grisham. That’s just lame. Not recommended, Misconduct opens tomorrow (2/5) in New York, at the AMC Empire.

Kidnapping Mr. Heineken: Holland’s Most Notorious Abduction

Alfred Henry “Freddy” Heineken was sort of like the Netherlands’ Lindbergh Baby, except he was nobody’s victim. A desperate group of disenfranchised construction workers pulled off the truly daring abduction, but getting away clean turned out to be a trickier proposition. Nevertheless, their crime-of-the-century had considerable long term consequences that are duly revealed in Daniel Alfredson’s Kidnapping Mr. Heineken (trailer here), which opens this Friday.

Frankly, if Holland in the early 1980s had better respected property rights, Cor van Hout and his business partners might have never resorted to crime. They desperately needed a loan to keep their small construction enterprise afloat, but their only collateral was a building infested with legally protected squatters—not exactly a property the bank would be happy to assume should they default. Ironically, old man Heineken, a supporter of the Dutch People’s Party for Freedom and Democracy, probably would have empathized. Regardless, when Van Hout and his hot-tempered mate Willem Holleeder resolve to follow Willie Sutton’s advice and go where the money is, it necessarily means Mr. Heineken.

Showing considerable patience, Van Hout, Holleeder, and their accomplices spend two years in planning, rather than rushing into the operation. They want the authorities to assume Heineken was grabbed by a well-funded international terrorist organization or the mob. Initially, it all goes according to plan, but old man Heineken is cool customer. His chauffeur Ab Doderer is a different story. Heineken tries to reassure his panicking employee through the walls of their makeshift cells, but the working class immigrant is not holding up well.

You can expect to see a lot of negative reviews of Mr. Heineken from those hung up on class warfare rhetoric because of its largely positive portrayal of Freddy Heineken. He is consistently calm, collected, and caring with respects to poor Doderer. It is also rich to learn how he responded to his kidnapping as a capitalist once he was released (no thanks to his captors).

In large measure, Mr. Heineken is the sort of caper film where the whole point is to watch it go spectacularly wrong. Getting the ransom is the easy part, as it usually is. The getaway is way more difficult. However, in this case, the endgame is especially long and twisty.

Screenwriter William Brookfield incorporates a number of fascinating historical details into the narrative and the mostly British Commonwealth cast looks appropriately continental and suitably beaten down where applicable. Of course, Sir Anthony Hopkins is totally credible as Freddy Heineken, instantly establishing his intelligence and charisma. Jim Sturgess does his best work in years as the angsty Van Hout, while Sam Worthington is reliably tightly wound as Holleeder (but not nearly as awesome-nuts as he was in the under-rated Texas Killing Fields).

Alfredson, who helmed the second two Swedish Lisbeth Salander films, keeps the action moving along and the tension cranked up, despite the fatalistic direction it must take. Cinematographer Fredrik Bäckar also gives it a gritty look that nicely suits the times. It is quite a well-produced period-thriller that does justice to fascinating real life events. Recommended quite highly, Kidnapping Mr. Heineken launches on iTunes and opens in select theaters this Friday (3/6), including George R.R. Martin’s Jean Cocteau Cinema in Albuquerque.

In Contention: Hitchcock

Alfred Hitchcock, the master of suspense, largely self-financed his notorious 1960 classic, Psycho.  He picked the right film to literally bet his home on.  A spectacular success by any standard, the film that would introduce Norman Bates to the world looked like it might be his swan song during its rocky development and production stages.  Dramatizing the behind-the-scenes story of arguably his most iconic work, Sacha Gervasi’s sympathetic but bitingly witty Hitchcock (trailer here) is now in award contention for at least one and possibly two of its accomplished leads.

Hitchcock is not a story Hitch would have made.  Since we know Psycho was completed to his satisfaction and became a monster hit at the box office, there is not a lot of suspense to the tale.  However, the getting from point A to point B is quite fascinating.  As we meet Hitchcock and his patient wife Alma Reville, he is basking in the triumph of North by Northwest, which somewhat bores them both.  As a distraction, Reville starts doctoring a new spec script written by Strangers on a Train screenwriter Whitfield Cook, who is hoping she will convince Hitchcock to attach himself to it.  Of course, he has his mind set on very different property.

Based on Robert Bloch’s novel, which in turn was inspired by Wisconsin serial killer Ed Gein, Psycho is the sort of film no respectable studio director would think of touching.  That is exactly why Hitchcock is attracted to it.  As the closing titles remind viewers, Hitchcock never won an Academy Award (a fact that could either help or hinder the film’s own Oscar campaign).  Throughout Gervasi’s film, Hitchcock is clearly presented as a brilliant but ragingly insecure filmmaker.  Resenting his lack of recognition, Psycho is convincingly framed as an effort to make an exploitation horror movie that is vastly superior to the prestige pictures the studios released.  And so it was.

Yes, this Hitchcock is somewhat neurotic and there is no denying his eye for blondes.  Yet, John J. McLaughlin’s screen treatment is refreshingly forgiving of his foibles.  He was indeed a man of expensive tastes (taste being the most apt word), but the audience also sees Hitch and Alma puttering about the kitchen in slippers, like relatively down to earth people.

Both Sir Anthony Hopkins and Dame Helen Mirren are terrific as the first couple of suspense.  As the title auteur, Hopkins is Hitchy without getting kitschy or shticky.  Likewise, Mirren is the picture of mature sophistication as Reville.  Listening to them bantering like an old familiar couple is one of the film’s great pleasures. 

Yet, the supporting work of Toni Collette and Scarlett Johansson really fleshes out the film.  Collette’s smart, surprisingly attractive turn elevates what could easily have been the thankless role of the Hitchcock’s thankless assistant Peggy Robertson.  Beyond being a spooky dead-ringer for Janet Leigh, Johansson also has some wonderful scenes with both principles that really deepen their humanity.  While an Oscar campaign on her behalf might be pushing it, Hitchcock should definitely be on the bill for any future Johansson retrospective.

Gervasi commits a few missteps along the way, such as overplaying Hitchcock’s interior dialogues with the convicted and committed Ed Gein, perhaps hoping to throw genre diehards a bone.  Still, the film payoffs handsomely, especially for Hitchcock fans.  In fact, you could say it has a real Hollywood ending.  Deserving award consideration for the work of both Hopkins and Mirren, Hitchcock is recommended for the director’s admirers and those who enjoy films about the cinema.  It is now playing nationwide, including the AMC Empire in New York.

James Ivory’s The City of Your Final Destination

The world is not exactly clamoring for a biography of Uruguay’s literary one-hit wonder, Jules Gund. Yet, in the publish-or-perish world of academia, Omar Razaghi’s career depends on his prospective book, but the Gund literary estate has withheld its official authorization. Such a literary premise sounds tailor made for a Merchant-Ivory production. Indeed, The City of Your Final Destination (trailer here), is a characteristically classy literary adaptation from director James Ivory, which finally gets a belated theatrical release this Friday in New York.

Ivory’s first film since the death of his longtime producing partner Ismail Merchant, City has been the focus of post-production litigation. Yet the film itself, based on Peter Cameron’s novel, is marked by its gentle restraint and Old World elegance. Still, when Razaghi sets off to Uruguay to plead his case to late novelist’s executors, he finds the living arrangements at Ocho Rios, the decaying Gund family estate, are decidedly non-traditional.

As they had before his apparent suicide, Gund’s wife Carolyn and his much younger mistress Arden Langdon, live together in an uneasy truce. The third executor, Gund’s brother Adam, also lives on Ocho Rios with Pete, his Japanese lover and the de facto estate manager. Though initially opposed, Langdon quickly reconsiders her opposition to Razaghi’s biography when she meets the intense but awkward academic. While Adam Gund was always in favor, Carolyn is dead set against it for reasons both obvious and obscure.

While City could be uncharitably described as talky, its characters actually have intelligent things to say. History, literature, art, and music are all important to them. Though a firmer editorial hand would have been welcome, the film boasts some wickedly pointed lines, adroitly delivered by a truly international cast.

Unfortunately though, Omar Metwally is a bland screen-presence as Razaghi, sinking into the background in nearly every scene. By contrast, Sir Anthony Hopkins is the personification of wit and sophistication as Adam Gund and Laura Linney is perfectly cast as the sharp-tongued widow. Even the waifish Charlotte Gainsbourg outshines the dull protagonist as the childlike Langdon. However, everyone is briefly upstaged by Norma Aleandro, the onetime Oscar nominee for Gaby: A True Story. Once exiled to Uruguay herself, the Argentinean actress steals each scene she appears in as the wealthy Mrs. Van Euwen, an outrageously flirtatious friend of the family.

City’s lush Latin American settings are a feast for the eyes and the soundtrack aptly mixes classical and Latin themes to evoke the perfect melancholy languor. Still, there are the occasional discordant notes, particularly Adam Gund’s relationship with his lover Pete, whom it turns out he adopted at the tender age of fifteen in order to bring him into the country. That is just plain creepy (and evidently illegal in Uruguay).

Lovingly crafted, City seduces viewers with its mañana ambiance and memorable supporting turns. Though not as substantial as the great films produced by the celebrated Merchant-Ivory partnership, it has its discrete charms. Recommended for literate (and patient) audiences, City opens this Friday (4/16) in New York at the Paris Theater.