Tag: Arts

To paraphrase Shakespeare, “What’s in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”

Not according to Ray Kroc, the man who super-sized McDonald’s before Morgan Spurlock was a twinkle in anyone’s eye.

“Patriots Day” is apparently what locals call the day of the Boston Marathon.

It also makes a most fitting title for this tautly told movie about the Boston Marathon everyone remembers: The one in 2013 when a pair of bombs went off near the finish line, killing three and injuring over 250.

Despite all the bad stuff we experienced (reel and real), 2016 deserves respect for bringing so many important – and often little-known – true stories to the screen. Among them, “Free State of Jones,” “Jackie,” “Loving,” “Hacksaw Ridge,” “Whiskey Tango Foxtrot,” “Sully,” “Snowden,” “Masterminds,” and “The Birth of a Nation.”

Now add to that list the very affecting (and effective) “Hidden Figures,” about some African-American math whizzes who were crucial to NASA in the early ‘60s. Given that NASA was still stationed in Langley, Va., and Virginia still had strictly enforced segregation laws, this was not business as usual.

As both director and star of “Fences,” Denzel Washington, well, swings for the fences. And while he doesn’t quite hit a home run, he does manage a solid triple. And, almost as importantly, he brilliantly eases himself through the transition from leading man to character actor/star.

“Fences” is based on August Wilson’s masterful 1983 play which starred a galvanizing bigger-than-life James Earl Jones as Troy Maxson, a garbage worker in late 1950s Pittsburgh. Jones won a Tony for his portrayal, as did Washington for the 2010 revival.

Here’s how you know the new film “Jackie” is working: You move from trying to decide just how credible Natalie Portman’s impersonation is to thinking about anything and everything except that.

Portman, who won a much-deserved Oscar for 2010’s “Black Swan,” doesn’t look in the least like Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy (the Onassis connection is still in the future). Portman’s face is more oval, her nose is stronger.

Elizabeth Sloane (Jessica Chastain), the protagonist of the lively political thriller, “Miss Sloane,” is one tough cookie. Some might even say of her, “Such a nasty woman.”

No, Sloane isn’t running for president. She’s a high-powered Washington lobbyist, whip-smart and utterly ruthless. And her tactics are as amoral as they are inventive.

“Manchester By the Sea” is the reason people keep going to the movies. Because, despite all the crummy ones, there’s always the chance you’ll stumble across one like this – a movie so powerful, so beautifully done on just about every level, that it’s instantly etched in your memory. And your heart.

Few movies can handle that delicate juggling act in which profound grief alternates with wickedly well-observed humor. Don’t get me wrong. “Manchester” is, ultimately, a picture riddled with sorrow and unspeakable tragedy. Yet it is also oddly optimistic. A newborn cries at a funeral service – a birth astride a grave, as Beckett would’ve said.

Not even Hollywood could have trumped up a better double-entendre title than “Loving.” The word is both the name of the movie and the name of the couple at its center.

“Loving” is based on the true story of Mildred and Richard Loving. In 1958, they married – and in doing so, broke the law. You see, she (Ruth Negga) was African-American and he (Joel Edgerton) was white. And though they exchanged vows in Washington, D.C., they wanted to live in their home state of Virginia. Which, at that time, forbid interracial marriages.

There is a sweet, surprising mystery at the heart of Denis Villeneuve’s otherwise rigorously cerebral sci-fi film, “Arrival.” I can’t tell you what it is because, well, I’m not entirely sure I understand what it is. But I do know the picture is ineffably moving in a totally unexpected way.

“Hacksaw Ridge” lets us know what we’re in for with its opening shot: a montage of soldiers in flames, caught in a slo-mo inferno.

Then it’s back stateside – rural Virginia where Desmond Doss lives with his brother, his beaten-down mom (Rachel Griffiths) and his dad (Hugo Weaving), a raging alcoholic who does the beating. His constant fury is an unwelcome residual of his service in World War I.

“American Pastoral” is a tale of patricide. Not directly, but ultimately.

It’s also a tale of little girls who were supposed to grow up to be Audrey Hepburn and instead grew up to be Squeaky Fromme.

Finally, it’s the tale of a man whose life was meant to be perfect, but turned out to be anything but.

There’s simply something meta about Ben Affleck playing a so-called “wooden” character in his new movie, “The Accountant.”

Affleck is himself such a wooden actor that his performance suggests the funhouse mirror sequence in Orson Welles’ ‘”The Lady from Shanghai.” A reflection of a reflection of a reflection ad infinitum.

“Denial” is respectful, respectable and precisely the sort of film Stanley Kramer might’ve made. Trouble is, Kramer’s heyday was in the ‘50s and ‘60s. Meaning that, while exceptionally well-intentioned, “Denial” is also a bit dull.

Fortunately, dull isn’t always synonymous with boring. “Denial” certainly holds your interest. Plus, it offers a performance by Rachel Weisz that’s anything but dull.

Dreary and confusing, “The Girl on the Train” goes off the rails early. And stays there.

Whatever allure Paula Hawkins’ best-seller has – and it must be considerable, given the number of people asking about the movie – it’s sadly lacking in this mopey adaptation.

By Eleanor Ringel Cater

Arriving amid a swirl of controversy, rumors and standing ovations at the Sundance Film Festival, “The Birth of a Nation” is a powerhouse of a picture.

Writer/director/star Nate Parker has taken a little-known moment in American history and slammed it home with extraordinary force. In 1831, a Virginia slave named Nat Turner led a bloody revolt against the white plantation owners and their families (Yes, he murdered women and children). The rebellion was brief – only 48 hours – but around 60 people were killed. The uprising was subsequently used to justify harsher laws against African-Americans.

“Snowden” is a snooze.

It’s also the least Oliver Stone-ish movie Oliver Stone has ever made.

Stone comes by his rep as a hot-button director legitimately. His movies stir people up. Sometimes rightly – “Platoon,” say, or “Salvador.” Sometimes wrongly – “Alexander” or “The Doors.” And sometimes, it seems Stone is being crazy just for the sake of drawing attention to his work – “JFK” comes to mind.

When we last saw Bridget Jones (2004), she was singleton no more, having finally found Mr. Right, aka, Mr. Darcy. But that was a dozen years ago and in “Bridget Jones’s Baby,” we (and she) are apparently back where she (and we) started: Sitting alone in her flat on her birthday, gobbling down a cupcake with one candle on it.

No, this isn’t the bad old days of self-loathing calorie-counting notations in her infamous diary. Bridget (Renee Zellweger) has another sort of female trouble, the sort you can’t diet away.

Something just isn’t right with “The Light Between the Oceans.” But just what, exactly, that something is isn’t easy to define.

Based on a 2012 book by Australian author, M.L. Stedman, the movie takes place shortly after World War I. Tom Sherbourne (Michael Fassbender) has come back with his body intact – many vets, the film reminds us, did not. But his head is, well, let’s say that something in him is broken to the point where a job tending a lighthouse on a lonely, storm-tossed island off the coast of Australia sounds like a good idea.