THE INTRUDER (2019)

Rated:  PG-13

STARS: Dennis Quaid, Michael Ealy, Meagan Good
DIRECTOR: Deon Taylor
GENRE: Mystery /Suspense /Horror


You won't know what to make of The Intruder any more than the young couple--Scott and Annie--know what to make of the former owner of the opulent house in the woods they just bought. 

Charlie Peck (Dennis Quaid) is having a little trouble "letting go." He's a gun nut and a deer killer who can't get over the sentimental attachment he has to the house he grew up in. Scott (Michael Ealy) and Annie (Meagan Good) are an upwardly mobile African-American couple--he's an executive at a San Francisco ad agency, and she does some writing for magazines. Still, there's nothing to indicate they can afford the 3.3 million price tag of the house. Scott initially balks when he hears that figure, but he soon relents because Annie likes the place so much and he wouldn't want her to pout.

They think Charlie is off to Florida to live with his daughter,  but...surprise! He shows up again uninvited to mow the lawn and putter around and continue to kill defenseless animals on their property. You can't get rid of the guy. Scott begins to figure out that Charlie has a screw loose early on, but Annie thinks oh-the-poor-man--he lost his wife  (under suspicious circumstances), and his attachment to his longtime home is something he'll get over in time. So she continues to blindly indulge his impromptu visits, even when Scott is away at work.

There's nothing we haven't seen before in The Intruder. It employs all the old tricks of the trade in the mystery/suspense/ horror genre. The characters do things that are so clueless and stupid--and the brunt of that lies with Annie--that you, as an audience member, want to take off your shoe and throw it at the screen!  But director Deon Taylor is apparently hoping you'll just enjoy it for what it is, and maybe grin along with the darkly comedic aspect of it-- though we don't know if that part of it is unintentional.  

Dennis Quaid is the saving grace of the film. His portrayal of a guy who is right on the edge, and then goes over that edge into a full-blown psychopath is memorable. How crazy is Charlie? He's the second coming of Jack Nicholson in The Shining. There's even a scene that's lifted right out of that horror classic, where Charlie pops his demonically grinning mug through a hole he's carved in the door. You're half expecting his next words to be: HERE'S CHARLIE!  

The Intruder is over the top, but it does the one thing that any good suspense thriller is supposed to do, and that's to keep you on the edge of your seat for the duration. 

Grade:  C +

JILL'S TAKE

A pox on you, Tim, for stealing one of my cinematic comparisons. The Intruder, like The Shining, has quite a few similarities actually. Aside from axe-wielding Dennis Quaid, the darkly-lit home with so many nooks and crannies reminded me of The Overlook Hotel. And the woodsy isolation of the place was also reminiscent of the Stephen King classic. (Granted, the weather was a lot better in this one!)

Yes, The Intruder held few surprises. But who goes to a scary movie to figure out the plot? The idea of pitting a red-neckish white man against a financially solvent black couple was refreshing. And who doesn't relate to the angst of giving up one's longtime home?

But I have to immediately mention something I truly hated about this movie: the score. Every once in a while, especially in the beginning, some loud gangsta rap would blare forth as if our classy couple were more comfortable in the ghetto than the glens of Napa Valley. Intrusive, to say the least. And very much out of character.

When I got to the theater and I saw how empty it was, I assumed I'd be in for a 'summer bummer.'  I was wrong. Within minutes, I became totally absorbed, inwardly groaning with each hospitable move our heroine made toward her obviously obsessed neighbor. Whether you liked The Shining, Psycho, The Amityville Horror, or a legion of other palpitation-makers, The Intruder is definitely worth seeing.

Grade: B

  

BAD TIMES AT THE EL ROYALE (2018)

Rated:  R

STARS: Jeff Bridges, Cynthia Erivo, Dakota Johnson, 
Chris Hemsworth, Lewis Pullman, Jon Hamm
DIRECTOR: Drew Goddard
GENRE: Mystery/Suspense

Bad Times At The El Royale is one wild-ass ride of a movie--if I may speak in the vernacular--a jigsaw puzzle that slowly assembles itself into what becomes a clear picture only near the end. It's not going to be for everyone, as evidenced by the older couple I saw getting up and walking out of the theater half way through...you could tell they just didn't get it, and didn't want to wait any longer to see if the pieces were eventually going to fit together.

It's the late sixties. Four strangers show up at a seedy and otherwise deserted Lake Tahoe hotel. The shaggy priest (Jeff Bridges), a cheeky vacuum cleaner salesman (Jon Hamm), a soul singing soul sister (Cynthia Erivo), a bored and uppity mystery woman (Dakota Johnson), and the slacker desk clerk (Lewis Pullman) make up our principal players. It doesn't take long to realize that none of them are really what they appear to be outwardly (including the hotel itself).  These are the surprises that develop along the way. And when what you think is going to be a major character gets taken out fairly early on, it's a wake up call that jolts you out of any notion of getting in a short catnap, and you say...ooookay... what's next???  Which is good because it carries you through a lot of backstory and some scenes that go on too long, most of which serve only to showcase the singing talents of Cynthia Erivo. It's what stretches the film to its bloated two hours and twenty minutes.

 The more Bad Times At The El Royale goes on the more you can see it's getting ready to jump the tracks, and I was trying to think of another flick that gave me those same vibes and flashed on Dusk Til Dawn, a movie that had its moments but then got too crazy and went on for too long. Way too long. 

Still, I've got to admire the effort of a film that shoots for the moon in a quirky art house kind of way, even if it falls short and ends up crashing back into the lake. Three quarters of the way through we're still pretty clueless as to where director Drew Goddard will ultimately lead us, until a villain (Chris Hemsworth) from outside the core group appears, and it's game on for a bloody Tarentino-esque climax. Through it all there's a message about killing that emerges--it's wrong no matter what the context or justification (as in war)--which has to be brought out, of course, through a lot of the same.

Jeff Bridges is the reason why we are here in the first place (I'm a fan) and he doesn't disappoint with his portrayal of the dissipated, hard drinking priest.

Dakota Johnson, who's made her name of late in the world of soft-core kink with the Fifty Shades franchise, tries for a step up in class here and accomplishes at least that much--after all she's in a Jeff Bridges film--and opted for a part where she keeps her clothes on the whole time!  .

Bad Times At The El Royale is fascinating in the way that a train wreck is fascinating. You can't look away. But that doesn't make it any less of a disaster.

Grade:  C +

JILL'S TAKE

I'm with the older couple who left early, Tim. Only I've never, in my life, left a movie before it's over. On principle. I kept musing all through this turkey that last week I saw 'the best film of 2018' (A Star Is Born) and now I'm watching 'the worst film of 2018.' There has to be another word for slow to describe this puzzling piece of cinematic drivel.... Sluggish? Stagnant? Snail like? Those synonyms don't begin to describe Bad Times at the El Royale.

The only thing I kept asking myself throughout was "What the hell is this movie about?" (I had to read Tim's review to get the jist of what director/writer Drew Goddard was trying to convey.) The descriptive blurb on IMDb also helped "Over the course of one fateful night, everyone will have a last shot at redemption - before everything goes to hell."

The only thing I really dug about this movie were the wonderful closeups of that vintage Wurlitzer jukebox. Made me miss the days when those music machines were housed in every restaurant and bar across America.

I also liked Cynthia Erivo's chops. Who is she, anyway? According to Wikipedia, she's a Brit who won a Tony (Best Actress in a Musical) in the Broadway revival of "The Color Purple." What a voice! Still. It wasn't worth the reduced price I paid. In my view, 'a bad time is what you'll get if you go to this mawkish mystery."

Grade: F

THE GIRL ON THE TRAIN (2016)

Rated:  R

STARS: Emily Blunt, Justin Theroux, Rebecca Ferguson, Luke Evans, Haley Bennett, Edgar Ramirez
DIRECTOR: Tate Taylor
GENRE: Thriller

Watching a film adaptation of a book you've read is different than if you were totally unfamiliar with the story. Since you know all the plot elements, you pretty much are just looking to see how true the film is to the source material. We can say that The Girl On The Train, starring Emily Blunt, is a lot more faithful to the best-selling book by Paula Hawkins than any of the married characters in the story are to each other, with a couple of notable exceptions.

Rachel  is a lush of the first magnitude. A furtive alcoholic who blacks out and can't remember a thing about what she did the night before. In the book she's overweight and no longer terribly attractive. In the movie she's Emily Blunt. So there's the first change. They do a pretty good job of making her look haggard and stressed out, but she's still Emily Blunt. So who was going to put more butts in the seats--Melissa McCarthy or Ms. Blunt? The bottom line is still king.

Rachel drinks because of her divorce from Tom (Justin Theroux), who is now happily married to Anna (Rebecca Ferguson). She got fired from her job due to her drinking, but rides the train everyday from the suburbs to Manhattan to keep up the appearance of still being gainfully employed. (In the book it's London--that's the second notable change.) Along the route Rachel passes a house where a happy looking couple are frequently observed getting frisky on their back balcony. She entertains fantasies about who they are and what they are like. One day while riding by she sees the woman in the arms of another man. Rachel is shocked and disillusioned. Then the woman, whose name is Megan (Haley Bennett), disappears. There is a police investigation. Megan's husband, Scott (Luke Evans), becomes a suspect. But who was the other man Rachel saw Megan with on the balcony? She's going to get to the bottom of it (before she bottoms out herself). It's the stuff that taut thrillers are made of. 

Emily Blunt, surrounded by a cast of relative unknowns, turns in a gritty performance--one of her best. But as The Girl On The Train speeds toward its gotcha conclusion, much of the nuance of the characters in the novel is left at the station. 

Grade:  B 

JILL'S TAKE

From my perspective, the best thing about The Girl On The Train is Tim's review. Well done, Timoteo! There's always a danger of turning off an audience when the main character is so unlikable. And Emily Blunt's character is definitely not someone you'd want to befriend. Until the very end when the wife of her ex husband's boss, played by Lisa Kudrow of "Friends" fame, reveals a shocking truth.

Quite honestly, I went to this film with the wrong attitude, convinced that it would never be as good as the book. And I was right. That's the second danger with making a movie from a hit novel. Author Paula Hawkins' best seller was such a literary blockbuster that expectations about the movie version were unrealistically high. Even though screenwriter, Erin Cressida Wilson, wrote one of my all-time spooky film favorites (Secretary with James Spader and Maggie Gyllenhaal), many of the scenes in this thriller dragged on endlessly.

As I watched the final credits roll, I at least felt a frisson of recognition when I realized that the actor who played Emily Blunt's ex, Justin Theroux, is the current husband of Jennifer Aniston. My advice? Read the book and forget the movie...

Grade: C -

REMEMBER (2016)

Rated: R

STARS: Christopher Plummer, Martin Landau, Dean Norris, Bruno Ganz, Jurgen Prochnow
DIRECTOR: Atom Egoyan
GENRE: Drama/Suspense

Zev Guttman (Christopher Plummer) is a 90 year-old man with dementia who's grieving the recent passing of his wife. That is, when he can remember she's not still there with him when he wakes each morning.  Zev gets a letter in the mail from his friend at the retirement home where they both live, instructing him to set upon a journey that will culminate in a grizzly personal vendetta. Max (Martin Landau), who is wheelchair bound, has provided the blueprint for Zev to find and kill the Auschwitz guard--now living under an assumed name--who is responsible for the deaths of both their families.  Max has it all written down to keep Zev on point, knowing his friend will have trouble remembering the why, what, and the wherefore of the task from day to day. (Plummer himself is only 86, so he had to "grow" into the role somewhat. Alternate version of the preceding sentence: Plummer himself is only 86, and that's why he was still able to remember his lines.)  Zev sets out surreptitiously upon his journey and becomes a missing person, setting off a secondary search by his family. Can his son find him before some major nastiness occurs?

Zev is tracking a man going by the name of Rudy Kurlander. There are four such individuals in the United States and Canada. So it's a process of elimination (pardon the pun) for the former Auschwitz prisoner to find the right Rudy Kurlander.  Further revelation of the plot would send us into spoiler territory, and we don't want that. Suffice it to say that Remember has  jaw-dropping plot twists that place it in that rarefied air with The Sixth Sense--in that you will NEVER see them coming! They are also what make the story--when all is said and done--a bit far-fetched. Okay, a lot far-fetched. But the performances from Oscar winners Plummer and Landau--and Dean Norris as a Nazi sympathizer Zev encounters along the way--are out of the park, and overshadow these manipulations.

And it's probably good that director Atom Egoyan didn't take my suggestion to include Steely Dan's "Rikki Don't Lose That Number" (send it off in a letter to yourself) in the soundtrack.

Grade: B+

JILL'S TAKE

Usually I love Tim's off-the-wall sense of humor but in this case he is toying with the sacrosanct. Huh? In my view Remember is one of the best films I've seen in years. Maybe ever. It had me on the edge of my seat from start to long after the ending credits. Reminiscent of Marathon Man where Laurence Olivier played a fugitive Nazi war criminal, Remember had the same feeling of unrelenting suspense. And when the main character, whose memory was spotty at best, was able to recall how to play Wagner with such precision and passion, it reminded me of The Pianist. A film about a famous Jewish pianist who was hidden in the attic of an empty house and supplied with food by a German officer who also shared a love of Chopin.

Prejudice has produced some incredible films.

So has the formula of hunting down the bad guy. Like Tim, I found some of Plummer's character's dementia-ridden exploits hard to believe. But I got so caught up in the chase that plausibility went right out the window. There aren't enough laudatory words to use in connection with this man's talent. What a consummate actor! All the cast was superb, actually. And kudos go out to Jurgen Prochnow (of Das Boot fame) for his portrayal of Rudy Kurlander #4, whose remade life looks like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting.

Please, if you never see another movie, go see this one.

Grade: A+++

PHOENIX (2015)

Rated: PG-13

STARS: Nina Hoss, Ronald Zehrfeld, Nina Kunzendorf
DIRECTOR: Christian Petzold
GENRE: Drama/Suspense

In Phoenix, Nelly (Nina Hoss) is playing a role. She's playing herself,  as if she were someone not herself...playing herself. That's a head scratcher until you learn that she is a concentration camp survivor in post-war Berlin, recovering from reconstructive facial surgery due to a bullet wound.

Her friend and caregiver, Lene (Nina Kunzendorf), wants her to come to Tel Aviv to start a new life. But Nelly is intent upon finding her husband, Johnny (Ronald Zehrfeld). She was a singer--he was a piano player. They made a good team. Or so she thought. 

When she finds him, he doesn't recognize her because her face is different. In a poignant scene, he tells her of his wife (herself), convinced that she perished in the camps. But Nelly fits the same profile, he thinks, and he recruits her to impersonate herself in a scheme to collect inheritance money, as the rest of her family had been killed. Here is where we must decide whether to employ the willing suspension of disbelief and go with the idea that Johnny wouldn't recognize his own wife--face altered or not--by the sound of her voice, her mannerisms, etc.  My advice is to run with it, because you won't be disappointed the rest of the way.

Nelly doesn't reveal her true identity to Johnny, because Lene has told her that he is the one who betrayed her to the Nazis. She doesn't want to believe it, but she must discern the truth, so she plays along with his scheme until a climactic scene so "heavy" (as we used to say back in the day) it will have you thinking about Phoenix for days afterward.

German born Nina Hoss shines as a woman torn between love and mistrust...between the past and the present...between the dark and the light.

Grade:  A

JILL'S TAKE

Phoenix, despite its basic implausibility, got my attention. And that wasn't easy. Forget about the mistaken identity plot used in literature throughout the ages. What irked me from the get-go were the indecipherable subtitles. (White type against a white background? Pul-eeze!) Then I got confused about the main character's relationship with her friend. Was this woman her sister? Her lawyer? Her wannabe lover? I realize that foreign films don't feel the need to explain everything the way American films do. Still, confusion doesn't sit well with me. All this being said, the ending was worth the price of admission.

And the musical score was beautifully integrated with the story. (Of course it didn't hurt that our facially mutilated heroine was a jazz singer.) That being said, I'm sure Cole Porter would roll over in his grave if he read the German translation of the lyrics to "Night and Day" sung in campy style by two plump, post-war strippers. Which reminds me of another weakness in this film: the title. "Phoenix" is the neon-lit name of the nightclub where the husband works. And, yes, it can also be symbolic of our leading lady's rise from the ashes. But it's a stretch – like so many things about this movie.

Grade:  C +

A MOST VIOLENT YEAR (2014)

Rated :  R

STARS: Oscar Isaac, Jessica Chastain, Albert Brooks, David Oyelowo, Elyes Gabel

DIRECTOR:  J.C. Chandor

GENRE: Drama/Suspense

The first thing to remember about A Most Violent Year is that it ain't that violent. Not like the title might suggest, at least. It's a character study, and a very good one, about a man trying to do the right things when all about him are bad influences (like when mom told you to stay away from that nasty neighbor boy). Not the least of which may be his wife. 

The setting is New York City in 1981--statistically one of the most crime-ridden years in the city's history. Immigrant Abel Morales (Oscar Isaac) is living the American Dream. He operates a heating oil distribution business. He wants to do everything above-board and by the book. But what appear to be rival operators are beating up his drivers and hijacking his trucks full of fuel that they can peddle on the black market. Then there is this subtly shady D.A. (David Oyelowo) who's investigating his operation for evidence of improprieties. 

The wild card in all of this is his wife, Anna (Jessica Chastain), the daughter of a Brooklyn crime boss.  Morales bought the business from her father (bad influence number one).  Despite seemingly good intentions, she can't completely escape the influence of her upbringing.  So as the pressure on Morales mounts, she wants to arm the drivers so they can fight back. Then she issues some veiled personal threats toward the D.A. That's when we recognize an intriguing marital role reversal--where she's the tough guy, and he is someone who only wants to do "the most right thing." That phrase is at the crux of the movie's theme, in my opinion, as the most right thing--that line in the sand--is sometimes blurred and ill-defined (as we all know in our own lives, eh?). 

Title notwithstanding, A Most Violent Year is a surprisingly introspective film. A character study that doesn't rely on the usual Hollywood gimmicks to build the suspense. And there is no lack of that. With riveting performances by Isaac and Chastain. And the ever quirky Albert Brooks, who is a character study all on his own.  

GRADE:  B+

JILL'S TAKE

When a movie's title has the word 'violent' in it, I expect to be treated to bullets flying, brutal killings and at least one mafia boss gunned down in a barber shop. No such luck with A Most Violent Year. To make matters worse (from my blood-thirsty point of view), our noble hero, whose ability to stare into the camera in fierce silence for minutes at a time, looks more Italian than Al Pacino and Robert De Niro combined. Misleading? You bet!

Trying to "do the right thing" is an uphill battle in this setting. And I, for one, didn't go to Goodfellas orGodfather I, II & III expecting to come out of the theater pondering the meaning of good. I blame the trailer for this. It certainly led me (and probably the rest of the viewers) to assume A Most Violent Year would be this year's Mafia flick.

Aside from it's lack of savagery, there were no real villains. No Anthony Hopkins (Silence of the Lambs) or Javier Bardem (No Country for Old Men). The acting was good. I'll give it that much. But I walked away feeling as pissed off as those drivers must have felt when their boss wouldn't allow them to carry guns.

GRADE: D

ALL IS LOST (2013)

Rated: PG-13

STARS: Robert Redford
DIRECTOR: J.C. Chandor
GENRE: Action--Adventure/ Suspense

Going to a movie called All Is Lost,  you may psych yourself into being depressed by the time you hit  your seat.  Sometimes a title is meant to mislead you. Not here.  Robert Redford's character is in trouble from the get-go. He's piloting a small yacht  in the middle of the Indian Ocean , and his craft has just collided with a huge railroad type shipping container. Now there's a hole in the side of the boat, and it's taking on water. 

Plot aficionados, this won't be your cup of tea. Because there is only one question--will he or won't he survive?  If you enjoy character-driven drama,  you're S. O. L. as well.  We learn next to nothing of the man. Not his name, nor why he has embarked upon his foolhardy journey. He apparently has a family somewhere. But then, most people do.

All Is Lost is pure action and a man's will to survive. Redford gets jostled about in the craft during storms and knocks his head. He tries unsuccessfully to send a mayday call on his radio. He climbs up and down the mast and does other manly type things. He charts his course on a map and sees that he is drifting toward the shipping lanes, and potential rescue. But will help arrive in time before he runs out of food and water, or becomes some shark's dinner entree?

There is one moment of comic relief where the man rears back and lets fly with an expletive to ring through the universe. You would too in his predicament.  It's a truly existential moment. Why are we here? What the hell is going on? The only entreaty to the gods that seems to make any sense is:  F_  _ K!!!!!!

All Is Lost is a unique kind of movie that won't challenge you much, in the sense that if  you nod off for a minute or two, you haven't missed anything. You may wonder why Robert Redford would make such a film. I think it's because he wanted to demonstrate what a tough and spry old fart he is at age 77.

GRADE:  C +

JILL'S TAKE

As I watched this movie, I kept thinking of nasty headlines I could write: "Stick to directing, Bobby!" "All will be lost at the box office with this turkey!" or"See Spot Sink." I know, I know. It's mean-spirited of me. But so is ALL IS LOST.  Mean-spirited in the sense that it totally disregards the needs of the average film-goer. Now if you're an avid sailor, that's different. Or if—like most men—you are map-obsessed, ALL IS LOST will certainly keep you 'on course.' Just out of curiosity, I looked around the theater and I'd say 80% of the audience was male.

Yes, Mr. Redford is certainly nimble for his age. But the dyed hair (possibly enhanced by a wig?) and withering biceps were a dead giveaway. Much as I liked him in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid,  I've always felt Redford's performances were pretty wooden. As a director, however, the man is a genius.

While trying not to nod off, I developed a mad-on for Redford's character labeled in the credits as "Our Man." People whose egos are so huge they think they can overcome any and all obstacles piss me off. This guy reminded me of the bear activist in Grizzly Man who thought he could communicate with grizzlies -- to learn too late that he was wrong. Part of me was hoping Our Man would get eaten by the sea. Oh well. The underwater photography was beautiful.

GRADE: D