MONEY MONSTER (2016)

Rated: R

STARS: George Clooney, Jack O'Connell, Julia Roberts
DIRECTOR: Jodie Foster
GENRE: Thriller/Dark Comedy

Money Monster is that extra dark (85% cacao) type of comedy--meaning that the darker it is, the less it will register with the average moviegoer as being comedy, though there were a couple of moments when the whole audience was a-titter at the showing I attended. Packaged as a taut thriller, Money Monster gets right to it--no song and dance. Except...uh...for the actual song and dance number at the beginning.

George Clooney is Lee Gates, a TV financial analyst--sort of the Apollo Creed of the breed--who hams it up while dispensing stock tips, one of which bombs (delayed pun coming up) badly when the stock of a company he has touted tanks to the tune of an 800 million dollar loss. Naturally, some people are going to be distressed about that--like those who took Gates' advice to heart and invested heavily--one of whom is young Kyle Budwell (Jack O'Connell), who sneaks onto the set of the show and takes Gates hostage, threatening to shoot the star if the program doesn't continue live under Budwell's "direction."  Kyle lost all of his savings by following Gates' advice on a "hot tip" stock, and now he's demanding some answers. It's edge-of-your-seat tension from there on out, as control booth director Patty Fenn (Julia Roberts) tries to make all the right moves to keep loose cannon Kyle--who has strapped a bomb vest onto Gates--from making the whole joint go KABOOM!

Bernie Sanders fans should appreciate the theme here--that Wall Street is evil and corrupt--but deeper than that, in my interpretation, is an indictment of capitalism itself, which stokes the unmitigated greed of those who can't see the green of the forest for the long green of the dollar signs dazzling their eyes (and that should resonate with Michael Moore fans as well).

The only trouble is that Money Monster, which starts with a reasonably believable scenario, gets more and more wildly implausible as it speeds along, leading to your typically neat and tidy Hollywood ending. But it did keep me awake throughout, which is more than I can say for some of the films I've seen recently. (If something like this were to ever happen live on CNN, I could see them cutting in at the most critical moments to do their regular commercial breaks--the ultimate irony--and I think they should have put that in the movie!). 

What I've noticed about George Clooney's performances, over a succession of his films that I've seen, is that he sometimes seems to be somewhere else, delivering his lines in what strikes me as a perfunctory manner, but then all of a sudden he kicks it into gear and he's right on the money, which is the case here.

Kudos to Julia Roberts for signing onto a project where she's in a supporting role. I found her believable as Patty Fenn, whose personal issues with Gates will come to the fore in the middle of the action.

But Money Monster belongs to young Jack O'Connell as Kyle, whose angst and sweat-dripping desperation I totally bought into. Now and then you're having a bad day...enough gets to be enough...and you take a TV host hostage at gunpoint and get the whole city in a panicked uproar. It could happen. He should have consulted with me before acting hastily,  as I could have imparted the first rule of prudent investment strategy: DIVERSIFY!

Grade: B

JILL'S TAKE

I agree with Tim about young Jack O'Connell's acting. Brilliant. When Money Monster focuses on him and his inept take-over of a TV station, the result is riveting. I only wish I could say the same about the first half of the film. Setting up Clooney's egotistical character (a Jim Kramer type with hair) took far too long. And as thrillers go, that's a definite no-no. I also felt much of the stock trader lingo and financial explanations were unnecessary and slowed down the pace.

That being said, I enjoyed the movie. A lot. And the cameo performance of Emily Meade as the very pregnant, very pissed off wife of the gunman, is dark humor at its best. When asked to go on camera to plead with her husband not to do anything foolish, she lambastes him instead for investing their life's savings so foolishly. Unexpected and delightfully quirky. 

I noticed at the beginning of the film the credits read: A Film By Jodie Foster. I so admire actors, especially women, who dare to take a different creative path. Some of her other directorial credits include 2 episodes of Orange Is The New Black and 1 episode of House of Cards. Way to go, Jodie! Way to go!

Grade: B (sorry to be such a copycat, Tim)

AUGUST: OSAGE COUNTY (2013)

Rated : R

STARS: Meryl Streep  , Julia Roberts,  Margo Martindale,  Juliette Lewis,  Julianne Nicholson, Benedict Cumberbatch, Abigail Breslin,  Ewan McGregor, Sam Shepard, Dermot Mulroney
DIRECTOR: John Wells
GENRE: Dark Comedy  

It's been said that all families are dysfunctional. Some are just better at keeping their dirty laundry from being sniffed by the neighbors. In August: Osage County,  Violet Weston (Meryl Streep) is the foul mouthed,  drug addicted matriarch of a dysfunctional family with a capital "D" that will get you to thinking that crazy old aunt Hattie wasn't so bad after all. It's all relative (pardon the pun).

Violet's hubby, Beverly, (Sam Shepard) has disappeared, and later turns up as a suicide.  Her  daughters Barbara, (Julia Roberts) Karen, (Juliettte Lewis) and Ivy (Julianne Nicholson) are summoned, with assorted "baggage"  in tow (a husband, a fiancee, a teenage daughter) to the old family home in  rural Oklahoma.  There is a funeral to attend. And later lots of bitching, bickering, recriminations,  put downs, name calling, obscenities flying like plates being smashed against the wall,  wrestling around on the floor, and so on.  All the things that families do during such solemn occasions.

   
Adapted from the Broadway play by Tracy Letts, August: Osage County keeps ratcheting up the tension until--if you are like me--you are sitting there completely fascinated, absorbed, and  dumbfounded by the bravura performances of Meryl Streep and Julia Roberts. Both deserve Oscars.  The rest of the cast ain't too shabby  neither,  including Juliette Lewis--one of my favorites ever since I saw her in the bizarre From Dusk Till Dawn. She always plays some type of bimbo, but she does it so well!

Fifty years from now, August: Osage County will be spoken of in the same breath as Streetcar Named Desire and other classic films that we look back upon today. 

That's how freaking good this movie is. 

Grade:  A

JILL'S TAKE

Compared to this family drama, Eugene O'Neill's Long Day's Journey Into Nightseems like "Little House On The Prairie." Funny as some of the dialog is, calling AUGUST: OSAGE COUNTY a comedy is like calling chitlins haute cuisine. I particularly liked the portrait author Tracy Letts painted of Meryl Streep's character. Zonked out as she was on pills, nothing got past this woman. And I mean nothing. Despite her eldest daughter's happy facade, she knew her marriage was in shambles. She also knew that another daughter's latest beau (played to sleazy perfection by Dermot Mulroney) was up to no good. Every family secret was hers for the telling—and tell them she did. Over and over again. I haven't always been a Meryl Streep fan. My ex and I used to call her "Meryl Weep." But this time she outdid herself. Considering this is her 18^th Oscar nod she must be doing something right.

Not to sound like a theater snob but when I saw that this movie was originally a stage play, I breathed a sigh of relief—knowing the characters would be multi-dimensional and the lines they spoke would crackle with originality. An ensemble piece, AUGUST: OSAGE COUNTY gives each actor a chance to shine. Chris Cooper plays an overly tolerant good ole boy brilliantly. His wife Mattie Fae, portrayed with faux joviality by Margo Martindale, is wonderful to watch. The only thing I might criticize (if forced to at gunpoint) was the ending. But I'll let you decide for yourself.

Grade:  A

  

EAT, PRAY, LOVE ( PG-13)

Stars: Julia Roberts, Richard Jenkins, James Franco, Viola Davis, Billy Crudup, Javier Bardem

Director: Ryan Murphy
Genre: Adventure/drama


Ryan Murphy directs Julia Roberts and a capable cast in the screen adaptation of author Elizabeth Gilbert's 2006 bestseller, Eat, Pray, Love--wherein the writer sets off on a year long quest to find enlightenment, romance, and great Italian pizza.


Bored with her marriage to Steve, (Billy Crudup) Liz files for divorce and takes up with a young actor (James Franco) who whets her appetite for spirituality--unwittingly sewing the seeds of his own demise with the flighty wordsmith--who seems to burn out quickly on guys who really care for her.
So she's off to Italy, where she'll engage in philosophical discourse with her new acquaintances while stuffing her face a lot; then to India where she hangs out in an ashram, looking like she's always feeling slightly out of her depth; and finally to Bali, to soak up wisdom from a toothless medicine man and get involved with a Brazilian dude--another nebulous relationship--because she's never quite sure about anything.

And now to my biggest pet-peeve about films that are adapted from nonfiction: The central character is always played by someone who is noticeably better looking than the real person. (Unless it's like, Ernest Borgnine.) So that is the first thing that gets fictionalized when a nonfiction book hits the silver screen. Liz Gilbert is a reasonably attractive woman, but she's no Julia Roberts. However, when I read the book some years back, I got the distinct impression that the author thought of herself as being this super hot chick, so she must have figured the selection of Ms. Roberts to play her was spot on.

Richard Jenkins' performance as the down-home Texas dude who befriends Liz at the ashram in India, dispensing nuggets of wisdom as he deals with the spectre of his own past, is already being touted as Oscar worthy, and I agree. And Javier Bardem as Felipe, Gilbert's love interest in the latter part of the film, is an affable presence, and sure-fire swoon material for this chik-flick's primary audience--though I think that Eat, Pray, Love does have broader appeal than that--if for no other reason than there's been a ton of hype about it, and guys will inevitably get dragged into the theatre at the behest of their girlfriends and spouses.

Now, how shall I describe the soundtrack? Well, it's one of the most curious, surprising, delightful, and baffling amalgamations of sound accompanying a major film in recent memory. From breezy samba rhythms, to Sly and the Family Stone, Kool and the Gang, Neil Young, and something that nearly made me fall out of my seat...a piece lifted right from Gato Barbieri's exquisite soundtrack from Last Tango In Paris. Never have I seen such a blatant recycling of something so wholly identifiable--for all time--with one particular movie, and a classic at that. I was delighted, (to hear it) yet cringing at the same time, as the melody that originally accompanied graceful tango dancers gliding across the floor was now being set to the image of Julia Roberts stuffing her face with pizza! BALLSY--I'll give them credit for that.

There's gorgeous cinematography--which you might expect considering the locales they had to work with--but Eat, Pray, Love suffers from some choppy editing. Had some of those scenic shots been held just a second or two longer, it would have given the film more of a seamless feel. As it is, it looks like the editor was rushing to finish. (The movie runs about two and a half hours.)
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Non-fiction brought to the screen often feels rather plotless--we're so conditioned to those traditional story arcs--but there is growth and transformation here, so if you've got the time and the bucks to spend a year galavanting about the globe, you too may gain some insight into who you are. But unless you can write a blockbuster bestseller about your experiences, that may be a jobless schmuck who is flat broke.

GRADE: B