Apple & Doug Liman’s The Instigators

Boston's two leading industries must be organized crime and political corruption. Frankly, the latter produces so much dirty money, a shady crime lord organizes a heist targeting the mayor’s dirty cash. However, the long-suffering voters complicate the caper in Doug Liman’s The Instigators, which opens today in theaters, ahead of its August 9^th premiere on Apple TV+.

Due to unforeseen circumstances, the ruthless Mr. Besegai has a shortage of henchmen, so his impulse control-challenged lieutenant Scalvo must recruit from the bottom of the barrel. He finds Cobby, and ex-con who is decidedly rusty and Rory, a veteran with money trouble who will be committing his first illegal job ever.

According to the plan, the three will sneak into Mayor Miccelli’s primary election victory party and steal all the bribe money he collected in suspicious plain brown envelopes stashed in the safe, long after the revelers have gone home. Of course, everything goes wrong.

For starters, Miccelli and most of his cronies are still there, because this election is much closer than anticipated. In fact, it is pretty clear he lost. On the other hand, there is almost no cash, because a special armored car was requested for all his ill-gotten loot. Instead, Scalvo starts holding up party guests, including the Mayor, taking a very important bracelet with a critically important set of numbers inscribed on the back. Miccelli needs it back, especially since he apparently must soon vacate his office, so he calls Frank Toomey, his enforcer with a badge (and an armored assault vehicle for a car), to recover it.

Like his brother Ben, co-screenwriter and co-star Casey Affleck clearly has an affinity for Boston crooks. However, he and co-writer Chuck Maclean recognize the worst criminals are those plundering the public trust. In fact, their treatment of Beantown pols is unexpectedly shrewd including their depiction of the supposed progressive reformer.

Ron Perlman is perfectly cast, slyly chewing the scenery as the grotesquely corrupt Mayor Miccelli. Affleck and Matt Damon have amusing chemistry as the bickering blokes. Neither comes across as a complete idiot. Instead, Damon plays Rory a stubbornly naïve Joe Sixpack, who always has to do things the hard way, while Affleck leans into Cobby’s roguishly degenerate lunkheadedness.

The Pale Blue Eye, on Netflix

Despite his frail, dissolute image, Edgar Allan Poe fared rather well as an Army enlisted man, rising to the rank of Sergeant Major. Rather unconventionally, his success as a soldier convinced his patron to secure Poe an appointment to West Point, where he effectively started over, as the Academy’s oldest cadet. He is now probably the most celebrated cadet to be court martialed and expelled. As this films starts, Poe has not yet completely sabotaged his officer prospects, but he is happy to assist Det. Augustus Landor’s investigation, at the expense of his studies in Scott Cooper’s The Pale Blue Eye, which premieres Friday on Netflix.

Remember, Poe’s reputation as a drunken basket case is largely the result of a slanderous biography, written by his greatest literary rival, Rufus Wilmot. However, all objective sources agree Poe did not thrive under the Academy’s discipline. The cadet found strung-up in a noose presumably had it worse. It certainly looks suspicious, especially when the body is subsequently mutilated in a ritualistic manner, so the Superintendent (a position that would be held by Robert E. Lee and William Westmoreland) recruits retired New York City Det. Landor to investigate death, which becomes the first of several violent crimes.

Despite Poe’s poetic soliloquys, Landor recognizes the cadet’s intelligence, so he recruits him to be his eyes and ears. Eager to help cast an unflattering light on the military academy, Poe immediately accepts. However, as Poe ingratiates himself with the dead cadet’s social circle, largely through heavy drinking, he falls for Lea Marquis, the sister of the Academy’s alpha cadet and the daughter of West Point’s physician, the questionably competent Dr. Daniel Marquis.

Essentially, Pale Blue Eye is a mystery, but Cooper’s adaptation of Louis Bayard’s source novel cleverly incorporates elements of gothic horror and the occult. Yet, the final revelation sequence rivals the conclusions of some of the best Agatha Christie films.

Compared to William Mosley in Raven’s Hollow and John Cusack in The Raven, Harry Melling might be the most Poe-looking movie Poe yet. Melling still portrays Poe as a bit of mess, but a romantic, romanticizing mess, rather than non-functional Wilmot-suggested mess. However, Christian Bale is even more compelling as the grizzled and tormented Landor.  He slow burns like nobody’s business. Plus, Toby Jones is appropriately squirrelly and off-puttingly nebbish as Dr. Marquis and Timothy Spall is suitably gruff as Superintendent Player.

Sam Mendes’ Empire of Light

The Empire Theatre is troubled, but the movies it books are not part of the problem. During the course of this film, we will see it screening Chariots of Fire, The Blues Brothers, Smoky and the Bandit, and Being There. Unfortunately, this release is not nearly as good as those that it references in passing. It is presented as a tribute to the movie-going experience, but like a bad projectionist, focus is a problem for Sam Mendes’ Empire of Light, which opens tomorrow.

Hilary Small is the one who keeps things running at the Empire, in the coastal town of Margate. However, she is easily dominated by her exploitative boss, Mr. Ellis, who also uses her for quickies in his office, much to the disgust of the other employees. Her life of quiet desperation leads to a breakdown, but after her brief hospitalization, she returns for more of the same, just with more medication. Things only start to change when Stephen joins the staff. The smart teen aging into adulthood should be going to university, but he lacks sufficient funds and the proper skin color (according to Mendes’ didactic screenplay).

He and Small are drawn together, as fellow outsiders. Their rapport will take a turn towards the romantic, despite vast differences between them. However, Stephen will eventually figure out Small’s emotional issues have only been masked, rather than cured.

If you want to watch the great cinematographer Roger Deakins paint pretty pictures with light, then Empire will certainly deliver. However, the melodrama reeks of sentimentality and the periodic attacks on Thatcherism (which reversed the UK’s decline into economic stagnation and international insignificance) are gratingly unnecessary distractions.

Frankly, despite some rather lovely scenes of projectors streaming down on the movie palace’s screen, Empire could have just as easily been set in a fish & chips shop, without losing much beyond Deakin’s visuals. Small’s relationship with her co-worker stays on the right (legal) side of Summer of ’42, but it is hard to buy them as a romantic couple. At times, Stephen gets lost in the film, overshadowed by Small’s angst and resentments. Focus really is an issue here.

Journey’s End: R.C. Sherriff’s Classic Drama, Back on the Big Screen

R.C. Sherriff’s classic stage play was such a definitive depiction of WWI, Heinz Paul opted to maintain the characters’ Britishness for his 1931 German language film production. Ironically, it would be Aces High, a 1976 Franco-British co-pro that took the most liberties, shifting the drama from the trenches to a fighter squadron. This time around, director Saul Dibb and screenwriter Simon Reade closely follow the original text with their faithful yet still powerful adaptation of Journey’s End (trailer here), which opens today in New York.

Hopelessly naïve with respect to the war, 2^nd Lt. Raleigh manages to get himself assigned to the infantry company of Captain Stanhope, his senior at school and his sister’s romantic interest. Unfortunately, the war has taken a drastic emotional toll on Stanhope, who now regularly self-medicates with whiskey. Nevertheless, his is still the best trench-level officer in the British Army.

With the launch of what would be known as the Spring Offensive imminent, Raleigh’s timing is downright perverse. In fact, Stanhope bitterly resents his presence, fearing Raleigh will inform his sister of his post-traumatic condition and that Raleigh’s blind hero-worship will lead to his death. The latter concern becomes especially pressing when Stanhope’s superiors order him to dispatch Raleigh and the beloved second-in-command, Lt. “Uncle” Osborne on a dubious daytime raid.

Dibb opens up the drama just a bit, giving viewers a sense of the intricacies of the trenches, but he retains the feeling of airless claustrophobia. Just being there looks like a miserable experience, so it is easy to see how the added tension of the anticipated German attack would try men’s souls. The film itself feels more than sufficiently realistic, but Dibb is also clearly attuned to the institutionalized class differences between officers and the enlisted.

Sam Claflin is terrific and almost terrifyingly intense as Stanhope. It is an achingly brittle performance that actually pairs up nicely with his work in Their Finest, which is tonally quite different, yet shares some overlapping themes. Likewise, Paul Bettany really gives the film depth and soul with his humanistic portrayal of Osborne. Much like he did in Zoo, Toby Jones finds his opportunities to inject pathos and dignity into Mason the cook, who might otherwise be a stock character cliché in someone else’s hands. Frankly, the maturation and disillusionment of Asa Butterfield’s Raleigh seems a bit slow, but his character is really just there to serve as a foil and mirror to Stanhope.

It is nice to see Dibb finally get another film released in American theaters after the Weinsteins dithered away his quality adaptation of Suite Française. This is an even better film that captures the horrifying futility of war without indulging in graphic gore. Highly recommended, Journey’s End opens today (3/16) in New York, at the Landmark 57.

NYICFF ’18: Zoo

The Republic of Ireland was neutral during WWII, but since it is part of the United Kingdom, Northern Ireland very definitely fought and sacrificed in the struggle against Axis tyranny. In fct, they paid a fearsome price during the Belfast Blitz. Compounding the tragedy, the civil defense authorities determined the Belfast Zoo’s predatory animals had to be euthanized, lest they be released into the streets by errant bombs. However, the son of a conscripted zoo veterinarian hatches a scheme to save its prized elephant in Colin McIvor’s Zoo (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 New York International Children’s Film Festival.

In many ways, the based (pretty faithfully) on a true story Zoo shames us for our hip, postmodern cynicism, starting right from the beginning, when Buster the pachyderm’s arrival procession through the streets of Belfast captures the city’s imagination (in a marvelously directed sequence). Alas, their enthusiasm will be quickly dampened by the Blitz. When his father is called up, Tom Hall loses his free access to the zoo, but he is still willing to pay. Unfortunately, there will be little left to see, when the staff starts putting the animals down.

Although Buster has a temporary reprieve, it is only a matter of time before his number comes up. Refusing to accept fate, Hall forges an alliance with Jane Berry, a quirky girl he sort of has a crush for, and Pete. the lunky but not so bad mate of the school bully. He definitely has a crush on Berry. They actually manage to pull off the elephant heist (thanks to the grouchy guard Charlie looking the other way), but they will need the help of widowed Denise Austin to shelter Buster.

Everyone considered Austin the neighborhood’s crazy cat lady, but there is more to her than that. Yet, McIvor is never heavy-handed when it comes to teaching moments. That said, there is a moment of heart-breaking tragedy that comes as a complete shock in a film with this many kids and animals. Nevertheless, you have to give him credit depicting the true nature of war—it’s absolutely no fun whatsoever.

Penelope Wilton (Cousin Matthew’s mother in Downton Abbey) is tremendous as Ms. Austin, taking small telling moments and just destroying us with them. Toby Jones is probably the biggest name attached to the film, but he also overachieves, wringing all kinds of poignant dignity out of the potentially cliched role of Charlie the zoo guard. The primary trio of youngsters, Art Parkinson, Emily Flain, and Ian O’Reilly are all impressively expressive and disciplined (frankly, Hall can be a bit of a doormat at times, but that is more of a problem with the script than Parkinson’s portrayal). Yet, it is Amy Huberman who quietly lowers the boom on viewers, as Hall’s mother Emily, an understandably overworked nurse.

There is a lot of honest, hard-earned emotion in Zoo. It probably skews younger due to the youthful main characters and their mostly innocent points-of-view, but it is as well-crafted as any Anglo-Irish period drama from the last ten years or so. This is a great year for live action films at NYICFF that adults can engage with just as much as kids, because Emelie Lindblom’s shockingly scary but wholly satisfying Room 213 is also on the slate. Very highly recommended, Zoo screens tomorrow (3/4) and Saturday (3/17) as part of NYICFF ’18.

Berberian Sound Studio: Giallo Madness

This might be the most anti-horror movie genre freak-out, perhaps ever.  Do not tell the hapless sound engineer in question he is just working on a movie or the violent images he sees are no big deal.  The vintage-era Italian giallo will profoundly disturb the nebbish Brit throughout Peter Strickland’s Berberian Sound Studio (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Poor Gilderoy assumed he had been hired to engineer the sort of nature documentary that has been his specialty.  Unfortunately, The Equestrian Vortex is anything but.  This will be the latest gore fest from the notorious giallo auteur, Santini (who does that name remind you of?).  The film opens with a girl on a horse, but she will soon find herself in a bacchanal of witchcraft and graphic, sexually charged violence.  Gilderoy is not prepared for this material, but nobody refuses Santini.

Right from the start, Santini and the staff of the grimy 1970’s sound studio torment Gilderoy with mind games.  The engineer’s mental and emotional health quickly deteriorates as he records the smashing pumpkins and other foley effects that accompany the on-screen tortures.  On the plus side, there are elegant Mediterranean bombshells coming in out of the studio to record their screams, but only Silvia, the fading starlet, shows him any kindness.  Of course, she is no match for the notorious Santini, or his Mephistophelean producer Francesco.

The fresh produce sacrificed to make Berberian could have made a month of salads for the Italian army, but it all has the desired impact.  In a more just world, Berberian should be an Oscar shoe-in for the sound categories.  However, the Academy will probably be far too uncomfortable with the film’s premise and implications.

Indeed, Berberian is unusually forthright questioning the cumulative impact of desensitizing imagery, far surpassing Cronenberg’s somewhat thematically related Videodrome.  Shrewdly, Strickland never shows the audience the Equestrian horrors slowly boring their way into Gilderoy’s brain.  It is far more unsettling to hear them take shape in the studio and to watch the engineer’s pained responses.  This is an artfully creepy film that skillfully builds the claustrophobic tension, up until the third act collapses into surreal reality-problematizing bedlam.

Who knew Toby Jones had this in him?  As Gilderoy, he quietly but rather spectacularly portrays a shy, reserved man coming apart at the seams, in a marked departure from his supercilious type-casting.  As his polar opposite, Cosimo Fusco’s Francesco is malevolent sleazebag worthy of the giallo tradition.

Yet, the real stars of Berberian are the technical crew who so perfectly recreate the look, sound, and general vibe of the genre.  Listening to Broadcast’s original score, one could easily believe it came off a rare vinyl soundtrack (that’s a good thing). Similarly, production designer Jennifer Kernke’s team painstaking attention to period detail makes the analog studio feel like a truly real (and really awful) place to work.

This is a superior midnight-genre film that might just challenge regular midnight-genre patrons.  Oddly enough, it also happens to be one of the year’s best period productions.  Highly recommended for open-minded cult movie fans, Berberian Sound Studio opens this Friday (6/14) at the IFC Center.