The Six Triple Eight: It delivers!

The Six Triple Eight (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, for dramatic intensity, profanity, racial slurs and brief war violence

Available via: Netflix

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 12.29.24 

Director Tyler Perry’s compelling, fact-based drama is a painful reminder that heroic deeds can get overlooked, when history is compiled by biased reporters.

 

New enlistees, from left, Dolores (Sarah Jeffery), Lena (Ebony Obsidian), Elaine (Pepi
Sonuga) and Johnnie Mae (Shanice Shantay) nervously wonder what awaits them.

In early 1945, during the waning days of World War II, the 6888th Central Postal Directory Battalion — known by its members as the Six Triple Eight — became the sole Women’s Army Corps of color to serve overseas during the war.

This was prompted by a bit of political pressure from Eleanor Roosevelt and her close friend, barrier-shattering Black educator Mary McLeod Bethune, who tirelessly crusaded for Black women to be allowed a more prominent role in the U.S. military.

 

Back in July 1942, after having graduating from Ohio’s Wilberforce College — with a triple major in physics, math and Latin, and a minor in history — and then teaching junior high school for four years, Charity Edna Adams enlisted in the Women’s Army Corps. By late 1944, she had risen to the rank of Major, becoming the war’s highest-ranking Black female officer.

 

She was selected to lead the Six Triple Eight’s 855 women on its overseas assignment: an “impossible” task that some of her blatantly racist white superior officers clearly hoped would prove too much for the battalion.

 

But that’s getting ahead of things.

 

Perry and co-scripter Kevin Hymel shine a welcome light on this riveting — and often astonishing — saga, which came to modern attention just a decade ago. (Absent some accidental research, it might have been forgotten entirely.)

 

Perry’s film is anchored by Kerry Washington’s powerful performance as Major Adams. She’s joined by a solid supporting cast: most notably Ebony Obsidian, as Lena Derriecott King (also an actual WAC).

 

The story begins stateside with Lena, who has fallen for the white, wealthy and Jewish Abram David (Gregg Sulkin) ... much to her mother’s disapproval and concern. Abram is unfazed; he’s madly in love with Lena, and doesn’t care what the rest of the world thinks. But he soon ships out to join the overseas war effort, after which she hears nothing.

 

No mail from him.

 

Mufasa, The Lion King: Roars with energy

Mufasa: The Lion King (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG, and rather generously, despite considerable violence, peril and dramatic intensity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 12.22.24 

This film’s look is nothing short of spectacular; the blend of animation, photo-real CGI and cinematographer James Laxton’s live-action contribution is amazing. All the animals, as well, look and move with impressive authenticity.

 

You’ll wonder, repeatedly, where actual African vistas surrender to CGI make-believe.

Ideally, though; you shouldn’t spend much time wondering, thanks to Jeff Nathanson’s riveting screenplay. He includes everything: family bonding, friendship, love, betrayal and often brutal Shakespearean drama. Indeed, this film’s PG rating seems generous, given the level of violence and nature’s harshness.

 

The often varied African landscape can be unforgiving.

 

Mufasa opens as Simba and his mate, Nala (Donald Glover and Beyoncé, returning to their roles from 2019’s The Lion King), temporarily leave their young daughter, Kiara (Blue Ivy Carter), in the care of the wise mandrill shaman, Rafiki (John Kani). The cub is frightened by a ferocious thunderstorm, so Rafiki calms her with the saga of her grandfather, Mufasa, who rose from humble origins to become the beloved king of the savannah.

 

This story frequently is interrupted by the antics of wisecracking meerkat Timon (Billy Eichner) and gassy warthog Pumba (Seth Rogen), who attempt to interject their trademark slapstick ... along with repeated attempts to sing “Hakuna Matata.”

 

(Children will find their antics hilarious. In point of fact, they quickly become distracting, even annoying.)

 

The core tale thus unfolds via a lengthy flashback. It opens under grim conditions, as young Mufasa and his parents, Masego (Keith David) and Afia (Anika Noni Rose), join other desperate animals in a search for water during a lengthy drought. Masego celebrates his son’s speed and adventurous spirit; Afia regales him with stories of Milele (“forever”), a cherished savannah “beyond the last cloud in the sky.”

 

A sudden monsoon rainstorm initially seems like salvation, but the resulting flash flood separates Mufasa from his parents; the helpless cub is washed many, many miles downstream.

 

Exhausted when the current finally recedes, barely able to keep his head above water, Mufasa escapes becoming an alligator’s dinner thanks to the timely intervention of Taka (Theo Somolu), a kind-hearted cub from a nearby pride. Alas, this generous act violates the pride’s rule that forbids outsiders, strictly enforced by Taka’s father, Obasi (Lennie James). His more forgiving mate, Eshe (Thandiwe Newton), perceives Mufasa as a lion capable of enhanced senses. Mufasa is allowed to remain.

That Christmas: No coal in this stocking!

That Christmas (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG, for mild rude humor

Available via: Netflix

By Derrick Bang

Christmas movies have become an explosive growth industry, usually with lamentable results; most have the cookie-cutter plot of a Harlequin romance novel, and the lingering impact of a snowflake on a slushy afternoon.

 

The extremely anxious Sam, foreground right, worried that she'll blow her lines in this
rather unusual school Christmas play, fails to notice that Danny — helplessly trapped
in a chickpea costume — worships the ground on which she walks.

I’ve not seen a truly memorable new Christmas movie since 2011’s Arthur Christmas ... until now.

Trust our British cousins to strike gold again.

 

Director Simon Otto’s animated charmer is adapted from three best-selling children’s books by author Richard Curtis and illustrator Rebecca Cobb: That Christmas, The Empty Stocking and Snow Day. Curtis also is well known as the writer and/or director of Four Weddings and a Funeral, Love Actually and Pirate Radio, among others.

 

He collaborated on this film adaptation with co-scripter Peter Souter, and the result is totally delightful ... and slyly subversive. Curtis also brought along several of his actor buddies, to voice these characters: icing on the cake.

 

As is typical of Curtis' stories, numerous character arcs intertwine and revolve around loneliness, dashed expectations, unrequited love and rebels with a cause.

 

The setting is the picturesque seaside village of Wellington-on-Sea, which — as related by Santa Claus (Brian Cox), looking back on past events — recently endured what is remembered as that Christmas, when a huge blizzard challenged the close-knit families and their children.

 

(Curtis based this community on a portion of East England’s Suffolk, where he lives.)

 

But all initially is boisterous and fun, a few days before that ill-fated holiday, thanks to energetic and progressively minded young Bernadette (India Brown), director of the annual school Christmas play. She’s determined to abandon stodgy Biblical tradition and shake things up with some gender equality and earth-friendly touches, in an original script called Three Wise Women.

 

Her cast includes identical twin girls Charlie (Sienna Sayer) and Sam (Zazie Hayhurst); the former is a bold, mischievous prankster who never cleans her half of their shared bedroom, the latter a forever worried over-thinker who is the “good girl” yin to her twin’s “bad” yang. 

 

Introverted newcomer Danny Williams (Jack Wisniewski) lives with his recently divorced single mother (Jodie Whittaker); he’s frequently left alone, because she accepts double work shifts in order to make ends meet. They “communicate” via her endless stream of Post-it notes (a cute touch, with a great third-act payoff).

 

Danny also is deeply in love with Sam, but can’t work up the courage to even talk to her.

 

“I’m shy, and she’s anxious,” he laments, early on. “It’s hopeless.”

Wicked, Part One: Too much of a good thing

Wicked: Part One (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG, and rather generously, for scary action and dramatic intensity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

At the risk of being the Grinch at the party — and earning the wrath of the 2003 Broadway musical’s devoted Wickedites (Ozians?) — this film is much too long.

 

Shiz University students Elphaba (Cynthia Erivo, left) and Galinda (Ariana Grande)
loathe each other on first sight ... so, naturally, they're forced to room together.

I say this despite its best moments, when this film (literally) soars with exhilarating magic, most notably during choreographer Christopher Scott’s exhilarating production numbers, none better than “Dancing Through Life,” set in a multi-level school library with huge, rotating stacks of shelves. Director John M. Chu is (ahem) a wiz at ensemble pieces and splashy, opulent crowd sequences, as notably demonstrated in 2018’s Crazy Rich Asians and 2021’s In the Heights.

But this ponderous, 160-minute fantasy’s quieter, expository moments frequently sag beneath the weight of too many slow takes, a grim and insufficiently established subtext, and pauses so pregnant they could deliver.

 

Which do not, for a moment, overshadow the deeply moving, incredibly powerful and all-around superb performances by stars Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande, both spectacular in song, dance, comedy and expressive moves and dramatic chops, as (initially) rival spell-casting students Elphaba and Galinda, at the fantastical land of Oz’s Shiz University.

 

I’d love to say that the über-talented Erivo and Grande compensate for this bloated film’s shortcomings, and — in fairness — they come very close. But no; nothing can fully camouflage the sagging weight of dramatic scenes than linger far beyond their sell-by date.

 

But that’s getting ahead of things. 

 

Chu’s film is based on the Winnie Holzman/Stephen Schwartz play (book/music and lyrics), which in turn is adapted from Gregory Maguire’s cheeky revisionist 1995 novel, Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West. Holzman collaborated on this film’s screenplay, alongside Dana Fox, and viewed it — as she has been quoted — as being an opportunity to showcase all the scenes that were cut from the stage production.

 

(Note to all concerned: Sometimes stuff is trimmed for good reason.)

 

This film opens with a prologue that hearkens back to the end of 1939’s The Wizard of Oz, as Dorothy and her companions depart along the yellow brick road, having vanquished the Wicked Witch of the West. When Glinda arrives in Munchkinland to confirm the news, one resident asks about her prior relationship with the deceased: “Is it true you once were friends?”

 

That takes her aback, and prompts the memories that become the story proper.

 

(The two spellings of Galinda’s name is a plot point.)

 

Years back, Munchinland Governor Thropp (Andy Nyman) is horrified when their first baby girl, Elphaba, proves to be ... green. (There’s a reason for this, also a key plot point.) Second daughter Nessarose, born a few years later, looksacceptable but will require a wheelchair her entire life.

 

Gladiator II: Let the games resume!

Gladiator II (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated R, for strong, bloody violence

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

Although the lengthy gap between this film and director Ridley Scott’s predecessor seems an eyebrow lift, scripters David Scarpa and Peter Craig cleverly work that passage of time into their plot.

 

Although Lucius (Paul Mescal) isn't expected to survive his first bout in the Coliseum,
he proves unexpectedly resourceful ... much to the delight of the crowd, which has
long thirsted for a new champion.

Fifteen years have passed since Russell Crowe’s Maximus Decimus Meridius hoped, with his dying breath, that Rome would return to the honorably glory that it had enjoyed under the rule of Emperor Marcus Aurelius. 

Alas, things didn’t turn out that way; Rome has come under the rule of sadistic twin emperors Geta (Joseph Quinn) and Caracalla (Fred Hechinger). They’re reckless, with no sense of history, and believe in chaos, violence and conquest for its own sake. Their Roman Empire exists solely to expand its borders, pillaging every culture in its path, and forcing survivors to fight for their lives in the Colosseum.

 

Their realm’s citizens are in a very, very bad way. Rome has failed its people; Geta and Caracalla couldn’t care less. They’re vain, decadent, hedonistic and quite mad; Geta is a diabolical schemer, while Caracalla — never without his beloved pet monkey, Dundus — is completely unhinged.

 

Quinn and Hechinger plunge into these roles with unrestrained enthusiasm, making the twin emperors flat-out scary, unpredictable and detestable.

 

The story begins as their favorite warrior, Gen. Marcus Acacius (Pedro Pascal), leads the Roman navy across the sea to conquer the coastal realm of Numidia, where Lucius (Paul Mescal) farms with his beloved wife, Arishat (Yuval Gonen). 

 

(Viewers with good memories will recognize the name Lucius.)

 

He and Arishat join the forces protecting their walled city, in a jaw-dropping action sequence orchestrated by Scott, production designer Arthur Max, special effects supervisor Neil Corbould, visual effects supervisor Mark Bakowski, and supervising sound editors Matthew Collinge and Danny Sheehan.

 

The melee lasts almost 20 minutes, with a barrage of battle galleons, swords, bows, knives, catapults, trebuchets, flaming projectiles and what seems like thousands of warriors. It’s awesome.

 

Alas, things doesn’t go well for Lucius. He and the other male Numidian survivors are carted to a rigorous — and deadly — gladiator training camp run by the formidable Viggo (Lior Raz, who has a marvelous scowl). 

 

A Real Pain: A thoughtful, touching drama

A Real Pain (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated R, for drug use and relentless profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 11.17.24

This seems to be the season for notable entries by actors turned directors.

 

Just a few weeks ago, Anna Kendrick made an impressive directorial debut with the suspenseful Woman of the Hour, in which she also starred.

 

Tour guide James (Will Sharpe, foreground) and the rest of their small group fail to
notice when Benji (Kieran Culkin, in red shorts) impulsively embarrasses his
cousin David (Jesse Eisenberg) with a bear hug.

Jesse Eisenberg, still remembered for his Oscar-nominated performance in 2010’s The Social Network, has done her one better; he wrote, directed and co-stars in this intensely emotional relationship drama. It earned Eisenberg the Walda Salt Screenwriting Award at this year’s Sundance Film Festival, and no surprise; this painfully raw study of estrangement often is difficult to endure, because it feels so intimately real.

Equal credit, as well, for the lead performances by Eisenberg and Kieran Culkin.

 

New York-based David (Eisenberg) and his estranged cousin Benji (Culkin) reunite at an airport, en route to Warsaw for a Polish Holocaust history group tour. The trip has been made possible by money left by their recently deceased grandmother, and is prompted by their mutual desire to visit the home in which she lived, for many years.

 

Jewish history and the Holocaust are a grim backdrop to a character dynamic already heavy with unspoken angst.

 

The two men couldn’t be less alike. The workaholic David is sweet and smart, but shy, emotionally repressed and impaired by OCD tics partly dampened by prescription meds. He further holds himself together via lists, itineraries and meticulous planning.

 

This isn’t far from Eisenberg’s frequent acting wheelhouse; his flustered, overly apologetic nebbishes have long been a signature. But he’s extremely adept at it, and David’s deer-in-the-headlights reactions to his cousin’s antics are credibly painful.

 

The bipolar, relentlessly profane Benji navigates wild mood swings with marginal success. At his best, he’s cheery and personable: the life of the party. But in the blink of an eye, he turns rude, antagonistic and needlessly candid, insisting that everybody subscribe to his bent philosophy of the moment.

 

He self-medicates with marijuana and alcohol, which doesn’t help; he often doesn’t remember his previous day’s boorish behavior.

 

Culkin is all over the map; Benji’s manic intensity often lands like a punch in the gut, and his irresponsibility is infuriating. It’s hard to imagine spending even five minutes with this guy; Culkin’s performance leaps from the screen, as if daring us to remain in our seats.

Freedom: A captivating romp

Freedom (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Not rated, but akin to R for violence, nudity, sensuality and profanity

Available via: Amazon Prime

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 11.10.24

Director Mélanie Laurent’s new film is a cheeky, rollicking crime saga based on actual events that seem impossible to believe.

 

Bruno Sulak (Lucas Bravo) and lover Annie (Léa Luce Busato) make a formidable
team, but they soon realize that their luck can't hold out forever.

From the summer of 1978 through the early 1980s, France was captivated by the audacious exploits of “gentleman thief” Bruno Sulak, a former paratrooper with the Foreign Legion, who began his criminal career with a series of daytime supermarket robberies.

He was young and cordial, politely asking each check-out clerk to empty her till, while his partner similarly prompted the manager to empty the safe in the upstairs office. Both Sulak and his colleague brandished guns to show they were serious, but never fired them, or roughed up the citizenry; Sulak made a point of non-violence.

 

Coupled with a “shake up the establishment” air of defiance, Sulak quickly developed a reputation as a “Robin Hood of crime,” and was dubbed a real-life Arsène Lupin.

 

A civil understanding apparently existed between the French gendarmes and such low-level criminals, from the late 1960s to the early ’80s; grudging respect existed on both sides, as long as unspoken boundaries remained in place. This attitude was fueled, in part, by disenchantment with the government, and — during those latter years — public pushback against the pro-capitalist policies of newly elected President François Mitterrand.

 

Indeed, Sulak’s initial robberies were cheered by citizens concerned that the explosive growth of supermarkets would drive beloved family shops out of business.

 

Although Laurent and co-scripter Christophe Deslandes acknowledge being inspired by French author Philippe Jaenada’s 2013 book, Sulak, they’ve taken occasional liberties. Bruno’s “outlaw love” Thalie has been reshaped into Annie Bragnier (Léa Luce Busato, in a stylish big-screen debut), who takes a more active role as getaway driver.

 

But the overall arc of Bruno’s crime career is accurate, and the sensuous interludes with Annie enhance what quickly becomes an energetically frothy romp. There’s also a strong echo of 2002’s Catch Me If You Can, due to Sulak’s cat-and-mouse antics with dogged police inspector George Moréas (Yvan Attal).

Music by John Williams: Rhapsodic

Music by John Williams (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG for brief violent film clips

Available via: Disney+

By Derrick Bang

Full bias disclosure:

 

I’ve been a soundtrack nerd since junior high school, when I fell in love with John Barry’s jazz-oriented scores to the early James Bond films.

 

Since meeting in 1972, John Williams, left, and Steven Spielberg have collaborated on
29 feature films ... so far.

And let’s just say that didn’t sit well with my late 1960s, rock-oriented peers, when they caught me listening to soundtrack albums in our local public library. The scornful snickers always made me wince ... but did nothing to diminish my passion.

No surprise, then, that this new documentary was greeted with considerable anticipation.

 

It definitely delivers.

 

My soundtrack library expanded to include John Williams in the wake of 1975’s Jaws. Two years later, his score for Star Wars was a game-changer; it revived enthusiasm for classically hued orchestral soundtracks at a time when many films relied on “jukebox scores” of then-current pop tunes (a transitional detail covered in this documentary).

 

I mean, let’s get serious; who wasn’t blown away by that dynamic opening anthem, as the text crawl slid into the depths of space?

 

That film debuted May 25, 1977, but — unlike these days, when ancillary merchandise is coordinated for simultaneous release — the soundtrack didn’t show up for weeks. I haunted record stores almost daily, to the point that one shop owner simply shook his head when I peered inside the door.

 

But when it finally, finally, finally arrived — oh, my stars and garters — it was a double-album gatefold. Darn near unprecedented, for an orchestral film score. Like, wow.

 

Okay, enough of all that.

 

Director Laurent Bouzereau’s detailed profile of Williams covers an impressive degree of territory in 105 minutes, given that a multi-part miniseries would be necessary to do full justice to the composer’s career. The 92-year-old Williams was an enthusiastic participant, and his anecdotes, close encounters and sage observations are deftly blended with vintage photographs and home movies (both his own and, later, some shot by Steven Spielberg).

 

Bouzereau also employs the talking heads that have become obligatory in such films, but unlike far too many lesser documentaries, these aren’t obscure academics or fawning pop stars of the moment. The list here is meaty and meaningful: filmmakers Spielberg, Ron Howard, George Lucas, J.J. Abrams, Chris Columbus and James Mangold; fellow soundtrack composers Alan Silvestri, Thomas Newman and David Newman; and celebrated musicians Itzhak Perlman, Yo-Yo Ma, Gustavo Dudamel, Branford Marsalis and Anne-Sophie Mutter.

Woman of the Hour: Riveting and chilling

Woman of the Hour (2023) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Not rated, but akin to R for violence, dramatic intensity, leering sexuality and profanity

Available via: Netflix

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 10.27.24

Screenwriter Ian McDonald’s savvy script for this true crime thriller made the 2017 Top 10 Hollywood “Black List” of as-yet unproduced motion picture screenplays. I’m amazed it took this long to get turned into a film, and impressed by the skill with which Anna Kendrick did so: definitely one of the best, most assured directorial debuts in recent memory.

 

Dating Game host Ed Burke (Tony Hale) and contestant Sheryl Bradshaw (Anna Kendrick)
have no idea that one of her three potential suitors is a serial killer.

The hook that powers this story is a shocking eyebrow lift: On September 13, 1978, on a seemingly average episode of the titillating daytime TV series The Dating Game, nobody had any idea that one of the three male contestants, who fielded bachelorette Cheryl Bradshaw’s deliberately silly (and scripted) questions, was a serial killer and convicted sex offender who already had served a stretch in prison.

It was a simpler time. No background checks were conducted; contestants — of both sexes — were chosen solely on the basis of appearance and personality. (The mind doth boggle ... and a 5-minute clip from that episode is viewable via YouTube.)

 

Kendrick and McDonald structure their film cleverly, opening with a 1977 prologue that takes place in the wide open spaces of Wyoming. A sweetly bashful young woman named Sarah (Kelley Jakle) has allowed herself to be driven to this remote spot, in order to be photographed by Rodney Alcala (Daniel Zovatto).

 

He frames her, lovingly, for several shots ... and everything feels wrong. His smile and words of encouragement are too smarmy; his posture is coiled, like a snake waiting to strike. Poor Sarah is oblivious.

 

The inevitable is awful, and although Kendrick and cinematographer Zach Kuperstein don’t dwell on it exploitatively, the sequence continues long enough to reveal the horrible way that the actual Alcala cruelly toyed with some of his victims, like a cat torturing a mouse.

 

We then leap to 1978 Hollywood, where aspiring actress Sheryl Bradshaw (Kendrick) is auditioning for a bargain-basement role offered by a pair of slimy casting directors (Matty Finochio and Geoff Gustafson). The encounter is embarrassing and dehumanizing; Kendrick’s frozen smile and wounded gaze speak volumes.

 

As becomes clear, when Sheryl later commiserates with neighbor and best (only?) friend Terry (Pete Holmes), she has been struggling with this goal for awhile, with no success. She even has an agent, who eventually gets Sheryl booked onto The Dating Game: a great way to get noticed, she’s promised.

 

Sheryl’s prep and participation in this sexist excuse for daytime entertainment becomes this film’s narrative center: a single-day experience periodically interrupted as the film jumps back and forth in time, to track a few of Rodney’s other ... um ... activities.

Camera: Darn near picture-perfect

Camera (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Not rated, but akin to PG-13 for dramatic intensity and brief drug use

Available via: Amazon and Apple TV+

By Derrick Bang

This charming independent drama has been released without fanfare, with no publicity, and no reviews by significant print or media outlets.

 

After an initial misunderstanding, Eric (Beau Bridges, right) quickly apologizes and does
his best to make amends with the understably wary Oscar (Miguel Gabriel).

It’s clearly a labor of love by director Jay Silverman, who financed it solely via his own production company. The obviously modest budget nonetheless attracted name talent including Beau Bridges and Bruce Davison, although the film is stolen by young Miguel Gabriel; he and Bridges anchor the bittersweet and poignant script by Jamie Murphy and Joseph Gamache.

The result, a quietly compelling ode to the power of mentorship, deserves much better exposure than it’s likely to receive.

 

The setting is present-day Jasper’s Cove, a small coastal California fishing community. (The 18-day shoot actually took place in and around Morro Bay; locals will recognize famous landmarks such as Morro Rock and the Piedras Blancas Light Station.)

 

The community is struggling, due to the local waters having been overfished. Veteran fisherman such as Frank Flynn (the always engaging Davison) and Manny (Jorge-Luis Pallo) have their backs against the financial wall; the latter contemplates selling his beloved boat. Jasper’s Cove has become, as one character later puts it, “a place where fun goes to die.”

 

But 9-year-old Oscar (Gabriel) is oblivious to all this. Although a newcomer, he has quickly become a ubiquitous wanderer in town and the surrounding area, never seen without a vintage twin-lens reflex film camera slung around his neck, and hanging onto his chest. But the camera is damaged, and cannot be used.

 

Oscar is mute, due to complications from life-saving surgery when he was younger, which makes him the frequent target of a trio of contemptible adolescent bullies.

 

Oscar’s mother, Evelyn (Jessica Parker Kennedy), does her best with him; she has taught him to communicate via a series of flash cards bearing common greetings, questions and responses. He’s by no means slow; he can hear and understand perfectly, and seems intelligent for his age. But he’s also shy, self-conscious and easily frightened; he wears vulnerability like a shroud, which makes him an easy target for the aforementioned young thugs.

 

The recently widowed Evelyn has just moved them to Jasper’s Cove. She works hard, as a single parent trying to hold her little family together, and therefore can’t watch over her son as much as she’d like.

 

His Three Daughters: Tense, touching and tragic

His Three Daughters (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated R, for profanity and drug use

Available via: Netflix

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 10.20.24

The fact that this film’s title isn’t Three Sisters is telling.

 

Writer/director Azazel Jacobs opens his story in what feels like the middle of the first act.. Katie (Carrie Coon), Christina (Elizabeth Olsen) and Rachel (Natasha Lyonne) are gathered inside their father’s New York City apartment. He has neared the end of a battle against cancer, and has just entered hospice care.

 

Nervous exhaustion leads to an unexpectedly tender moment between, clockwise from
top, Christina (Elizabeth Olsen), Katie (Carrie Coon) and Rachel (Natasha Lyonne).

The three women, clearly uncomfortable in each other’s presence, cope in ways that enhance the friction between them. 

What follows takes place over the course of three volatile days.

 

Katie, the eldest and most practical, adopts an authoritative, take-charge manner that involves lists, schedules, phone calls, food for each meal, and “behavioral suggestions” that feel more like commands than requests. (She must’ve been hell to grow up with, as a bossy older sister.) Being useful is her way of coping ... but, ironically, she has no control over her teenage daughter back in Brooklyn.

 

Rachel, a casually sloppy, failure-to-launch stoner who spends all her time sports gambling, does her best to stay out of the way ... and particularly away from Katie’s gaze. 

 

The holistic and somewhat shy Christina, who gamely tries to run interference between the other two, chatters constantly about missing her own young daughter, Mirabelle, back at their West Coast home. She calms herself via yoga, and sings Grateful Dead songs to their father, much to the bewilderment of the other two women. Olsen makes Christina a bit too radiant; we halfway expect to see her surrounded by an aura.

 

Being thrown together by this tragic end-game is uncomfortable enough; it’s even worse because the apartment is so claustrophobic. Jacobs and cinematographer Sam Levy filmed in an actual apartment — not a film set, with moveable walls — which further enhances the tight closeness. (I wondered, at times, where the heck Levy put his camera!) The film stock is warm and slightly grainy, which adds a sense that we’re eavesdropping via a lengthy and painfully intimate home movie.

 

The result feels very much like a stage play, and possesses the same dramatic intensity.

 

The tableau opens up only when Rachel goes outside for a fresh toke ... and to escape Katie’s tight-lipped disapproval. This exasperates the building’s security guard, Victor (Jose Febus), who fields complaints from other tenants unhappy about the smell of smoke. (Not marijuana per se, but any smoke.) 

 

Victor’s amused annoyance notwithstanding, he and Rachel clearly are fond of each other.

Rez Ball: Shoots and scores!

Rez Ball (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, for dramatic intensity, teen drug/alcohol use, occasional profanity and crude references

Available via: Netflix

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 10.13.24

This continues to be a terrific year for inspirational sports sagas, and director Sydney Freeland’s heartfelt drama is another winner.

 

Coaches Heather and Benny (Jessica Matten and Ernest Tsosie III, far right) watch the
game action, along with team members, from left, Ruckus (Damian Henry Castellane),
Warlance (Jojo Jackson) and Levi (Jaren K. Robledo).

Although suggested by Michael Powell’s 2019 nonfiction book, Canyon Dreams: A Basketball Season on the Navajo Nation, Freeland and co-writer Sterlin Harjo developed their own characters and storyline. Freeland comes by the topic honestly; her high school basketball days at Navajo Prep spawned a lifelong love of the game.

No surprise, then: The tone, characters and Navajo culture are rigorously authentic (and just as captivating as the basketball action).

 

The present-day setting is the fictitious reservation community of Chuska, named for the mountain range that runs along the Arizona/New Mexico border. The story begins as longtime best friends Nataanii (Kusem Goodwind) and Jimmy (Kauchani Bratt) razz each other during some lively one-on-one. Their bond is palpable, but Nataanii’s bearing is withdrawn, somehow fragile.

 

He still grieves for his mother and sister, recently killed by a drunk driver.

 

Nataanii has returned to school, and everybody in town is thrilled that he’ll once again be the celebrated champion of the Warriors basketball team. Nobody is happier than Coach Heather Hobbs (Jessica Matten), who relies on him to rally everybody’s spirits. She understands that his leadership eases any awkwardness the boys might have, being coached by (ahem) a woman.

 

Alas, matters quickly take a tragic — but not unexpected — turn.

 

Lacking her star player, and with Jimmy and his teammates emotionally shattered, their first season game — against the Santa Fe Catholic Coyotes, their hated rivals — is an embarrassing disaster.

 

Heather hopes to groom Jimmy into the leadership role, but he has a lot on his emotional plate. Aside from having lost his best friend, his mother Gloria (Julia Jones) — a single parent — is a longtime alcoholic who relies on him for financial support; that means additional shifts at the burger joint where he works.

 

Gloria is sullen, often angry, and chronically depressed; Jones handles this role with grim authenticity. When Jimmy asks why she never attends the games, to watch him play, her reply is a gut-punch: “I don’t want to see you fail.”