THE POST (2018)

Rated: PG-13

STARS: Tom Hanks, Meryl Streep, Bob Odenkirk
DIRECTOR: Steven Spielberg
GENRE: Docudrama

In 1971, the Nixon White House tried to quash the publication of what came to be known as the Pentagon Papers--a classified report on the Vietnam War that was leaked to the press--revealing that the public had been lied to about the war and America's prospects of winning it going back, essentially, to day one. It's no coincidence that in 2018, as history repeats and the free press has once again come under  attack from the oval office, that a blockbuster film, The Post-- drawing parallels between then and now--should come along to strike a blow for truth, justice, and the American way.

Taking up the mantle of Clark Kent back in '71 was Ben Bradlee, executive editor at the Washington Post--played here by Tom Hanks in what surely will be regarded as the role of his career. Co-starring with Hanks is Meryl Streep as Katherine Graham, the widowed inheritor of the Post, whose decision it will ultimately be to put her livelihood and even her freedom on the line if she defies a court order that halted the New York Times, which originally broke the story, from further publication of the report.

 I won't be surprised if  Hanks and Streep  both get Oscar nods. Her name is always there come Golden Globes and Oscar time, but she hasn't collected the hardware in a while, and this may be her best shot to get back in the win column. 

The Post has all the earmarks of a Steven Spielberg film--it's high drama drenched in the authenticity of the era, and it's playing to sold out performances. Not so good for claustrophobics like me, but I managed to keep some space between myself and the guy a couple of seats down who had his feet propped up, shoes kicked off (it's these new comfy adjustable seats the theaters are installing now) and halfway through the movie I heard snoring. I expect to see filmgoers showing up in their pajamas soon. 

The Post, however, should keep most viewers wide awake and glued to their seats--it's riveting stuff that also serves as a much needed reminder, in these precarious times, of why freedom of speech and a free press appear at the very top of the Bill Of Rights. 

Grade:  A    

JILL'S TAKE

While we're on the subject of lean-back movie seats, I want to kvetch about the overwhelming smell of french fries and the loud chewers sitting next to me.... I realize that movie theaters are bending over backwards to woo customers—although the first time I tried to see The Post it was sold out—but how I long for the good old days when movie theaters were for watching movies!

I pretty much agree with everything Tim says about this film. The attention to detail that Spielberg is so famous for was outstanding. It made me miss phones you could dial, typeset, the whir of printing presses, etc. And I especially loved the authentic outfits, i.e. Hank's striped shirts, Streep's conservative dresses.  High marks go to costume designer Ann Roth, a veteran of Broadway, whose movie credits include other Tom Hanks/Meryl Streep films such as The Bonfire of the Vanities and Postcards From The Edge.

Not only will the leads in this film garner nods from The Academy on Sunday, March 4^th. I'll go out on a limb here and say Hanks will win his third Best Actor Oscar. I might also predict a Best Supporting Actor nomination for Bob Odenkirk, who plays Ben Bagdikian, Bradley's right-hand man at The Post. Odenkirk ("Better Call Saul") is one of my favorites.

I might have cut a bit more of The Post(especially the bedroom scene with Streep and her daughter), as I felt it dragged in spots. And I definitely felt Sarah Paulson's acting talent was wasted as Ben Bradley's dutiful wife. But the audience clapped at the end and people are packing the theaters in southern California. So it's definitely worth seeing. And if you want to be sure of getting a seat? Order one online!

Grade: B +

FLORENCE FOSTER JENKINS (2016)

Rated: PG-13

STARS: Meryl Streep, Hugh Grant, Simon Helberg
DIRECTOR: Stephen Frears
GENRE: Comedy/Drama

Florence Foster Jenkins was an heiress and New York socialite whose life-long love of music spurred her to become an opera singer. Only trouble was, her "singing" would make alley cats plug their ears.

In Florence Foster Jenkins, Meryl Streep takes on an enormous challenge to come off as tone deaf as the real deal. (Check out the clip of the real Ms. Jenkins at the end of this review!) I'll give Streep a B+ on that score. It's DIFFICULT to sing badly...no, it's difficult to sing badly and sincerely--with a straight face. Streep, who is actually a good singer,  gives a yeoman's effort.

Hugh Grant plays her mate, the opportunistic St. Clair Bayfield, a failed Shakespearean actor who must have seen her as his meal ticket initially--they live in a posh New York hotel--but nonetheless possesses a sincere platonic devotion to the lady. So much so that he orchestrates her singing engagements and packs the house with friends and acquaintances he knows will lend a sympathetic ear. Everyone is expected to play along with the colossal delusion, as Florence is in ill health, and he wants her to spend her remaining days pursuing her dream.(What she's suffering from I will not reveal, because it's an audience "ooh" moment, and most reviewers today GIVE TOO MUCH AWAY--one of my recurring pet peeves.)

As good as Streep and Grant are in their roles--and they are superb--Simon Helberg, as Florence's fidgety and high-strung piano accompanist, Cosme McMoon, steals the show with his comically expressive mug and mannerisms. McMoon--reluctantly at first--backs Jenkins from her initial appearances before The Verdi Club (an organization she herself founded), to her crowning achievement--a 1944 engagement to a packed house at Carnegie Hall.

Florence Foster Jenkins is also a (probably unintentional) commentary on the ability of the rich to buy their way to the immortality of lasting fame, while the masses of  mere "mortals"--many with astounding  talents and abilities--quietly labor through lives of anonymity, their brilliance ultimately recognized by no more than family and friends. But that comes as an afterthought for me, as during the movie I was rooting for Florence all the way.

And while the film is a hoot on many levels, there are moments of unexpected poignancy that may leave you misty-eyed here and there. Because what glimmers through every pore of Florence Foster Jenkins is one person's lifelong love affair with music...and as we all know, love is blind.

Not to be missed!

Grade:  A

JILL'S TAKE

Damn! You stole my thunder, Tim. About the brilliance of Simon Helberg's Oscar-worthy performance? To set the record straight regarding how we write these reviews, Tim writes his impressions first and then I add my two cents afterwards. (Usually five!) I'm not in Tucson right now so we see these reviewable flicks separately. This time, my west coast film companion was quick to whisper in my ear that Simon Helberg has been wowing TV audiences for 10 Seasons in "The Big Bang Theory." What an expressive face!

Knowing the premise of Florence Foster Jenkins beforehand, I didn't think I'd enjoy being treated to an afternoon of off-pitch singing. How wrong I was! Meryl was magnificent as the barrel-sized would-be opera singer. I found myself feeling guilty for belly laughing at Ms. Jenkins' painful vocals, knowing how badly she wanted to be another Lily Pons. And I wasn't the only one in the audience laughing, either.

It reminded me of another film,The Producers – where Zero Mostel and Gene Wilder wanted to produce a bad musical, hoping it would be a flop so they could rake in the investors' money. Instead, it turned into a Broadway blockbuster. Same basic idea applies to Florence Foster Jenkins. For me, though, her popularity (albeit camp rather than coloratura) seemed to seriously stretch credibility. As did many of the other moments in this distinctly delightful film.

Kudos go out to British director Stephen Arthur Frears whose film credits include some of my all-time favorites: My Beautiful Launderette and Philomena. He was able to make an incredibly hard-to-believe situation mostly believable.

Grade: B+

RICKI AND THE FLASH (2015)

Rated: PG-13

STARS: Meryl Streep, Kevin Kline, Mamie Gummer, Rick Springfield, Audra McDonald
DIRECTOR: Jonathan Demme
GENRE: Comedy-Drama

Meryl Streep's alter-ego has long wanted to be a vocalist (she has sung in several of her other films), but most of us probably didn't realize to what extent. Well, here we have it in Ricki and the Flash--upchucked from her inner being like a late night bar stool confession.  It's a total vehicle for the purpose of showcasing Streep's musical talents, with a plot that weaves in and out between sets as filler. So let's bring in Rick Springfield to give some cachet to the project, and to play Streep's sometimes lover. And let's add Meryl's real life daughter (Mamie Gummer) to play her daughter, Julie. Now there's a stroke of genius, as the physical resemblance is scary (think of the various ways that can be interpreted).

So Ricki is a sorta hippie, sorta redneck mother of three--two sons and the aforementioned daughter--who, when she's not working as a cashier at the local supermarket, fronts a rockabilly band called Ricki and the Flash. Her kids aren't exactly welcoming to her when she comes a calling for the purpose of consoling Julie over the dissolution of her short-term marriage. Julie is so pissed off about being dumped, it's ugly. And she's all too happy to take it out on mom with recriminations of why weren't you there when we were growing up. Well, Ricki was off following her musical dream, and as she states in her clueless way, you can't follow two dreams at the same time.

One of Ricki's sons is gay, and he seems to have it in for mom just on general principles. The other is about to be married, and that will set up a riotous, rockin' climax at the reception where the band gets to let it loose full bore. Speaking of bores, Kevin Kline is Ricki's anal-retentive ex-husband--ostensible played for laughs at the ridiculousness of two polar opposites coming together in connubial bliss. But it only made me think of how the icy family dynamic was done so brilliantly and more convincingly by Streep and Julia Roberts in August: Osage County.

As for Meryl Streep's musical abilities (she sings and plays guitar for real), she's a decent vocalist, and her ragtag band--an over-the-hill assemblage of guys who could be related to Willie Nelson--is good enough to pass for your average redneck barroom house band. But that made me think of how that scene was pulled off with more sincerity and straight ahead musicianship by Jeff Bridges and company in Crazy Heart.

But so what if Ricki and the Flash is a piece self-indulgent "slumming" by one of our greatest acting talents, who enjoys living out her dreams in the roles she plays? At this point in the game, she must feel she deserves it. 

Grade:  D

JILL'S TAKE

Before I share my impressions of this ridiculous movie (oh-oh, I gave myself away), I'd like to mention a scary reality I encountered this time: as I handed my ticket to the ticket taker in San Marcos, California, he asked to see the contents of my tote bag. It took me a minute to figure out why but I'm all for it. "Better safe than sorry."

And speaking of sorry, Ricki and the Flash qualifies. I don't know what it is lately about movie scripts but they have definitely forgotten the three act formula or how to follow through on the main theme. The author of this turkey is someone whose previous work I have loved. Both Juno (Best Writing Oscar, 2008) and The United States of Tara (Golden Globe winner, 2011) were brilliant. But Diablo Cody's work in Ricki is inconsistent at best and downright lazy. Once the family drama erupted, I quickly lost interest in Meryl Streep's rockabilly warblings. Yes, she's in great shape for her age. And if anybody can get away with a May-December romance, she can. But who cares? Once her daughter's suicide attempt is introduced (and quickly glossed over), another rendition of Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance" seems trivial indeed.

I always like to find something positive to say in these reviews. It's a challenge this time. But let's give credit where credit is due: The casting director. (Those aging band members were painfully real-looking!)

Grade: D -

  

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