The Outfit Synopsis: Leonard (Mark Rylance) is an English tailor who used to craft suits on London’s world-famous Savile Row. After a personal tragedy, he’s ended up in Chicago, operating a small tailor shop in a rough part of town where he makes beautiful clothes for the only people around who can afford them: a family of vicious gangsters.
As an unassuming tailor operating in mob-ridden Chicago during the 1950s, Leonard illustrates himself as a man of exacting precision. He slices cloth and stitches it together with sincere appreciation for his craft, habitually dedicating himself to his day-to-day grind without a tinge of pretensions for grandeur.
Under his posh exterior, though, Leonard possesses his own share of surprising secrets as one ordinary night morphs into a power-play between mafiosos. Oscar-winning Imitation GameScreenwriter Graham Moore digs into the character and his nefarious mobster clientele with his directorial debut, The Outfit. Tailored in the image of stagey, old-fashioned thrillers, Moore crafts an arresting, high-wire narrative tightrope, a balancing act that consistently compels despite some bumps along the road.
Entrapping viewers in the tight confines of an illustrious tailor shop, Moore’s aesthetics unabashedly conjures the theatrical intrigue of an evolving stageplay. The screenwriter-turned-director utilizes the narrative constraints to his advantage, deploying a slew of dynamic edits and snappy score choices to construct a lingering sense of unease. The Outfit never screams out to audiences through its stylistic choices. Moore displays an assured command of the material similar to Leonard’s calculating precision as a tailor.
The single-room approach never feels like a hindrance to the film and its objectives. As one hectic night gets increasingly more volatile, Moore and co-writer Jonathan McClain feed audiences enough textured details to paint a vibrant picture of the fractured mob ecosystem. An old-school mafia aesthetic can certainly feel cheesy in the wrong hands, but the duo displays a knack for sharp interchanges and reflective speeches to convey our cunning characters. The dog-eats-dog environment also serves as a perfect playground for our enigmatic protagonist. Leonard is a well-traveled tailor who always seems to be one step ahead of this unraveling situation. At its best, the film builds an unraveling narrative while slowly stitching together Leonard’s backstory in a well-designed arc.
The Outfit and its dialogue-driven approachwould not work without a skilled cast. Oscar-winning character actor Mark Rylance captivates as Leonard, displaying suave poise and coy intellect as a timid tailor. It’s also a joy to see the usual supporting player grab the spotlight in a role well-tuned to his versatile skillset as an actor. Dylan O’Brien, Johnny Flynn, and Simon Russell Beale radiate the charismatic smarm and foreboding menace as the mobster clientele – while Zoey Deutch develops a strong presence onscreen as Leonard’s loyal secretary.
I credit Moore for crafting an engaging yarn with his debut, but his film’s successes are somewhat sleight. Attempts at characterizing Leonard and company’s emotional undertones fall by the wayside as the plotting evolves at a breakneck pace. The compelling mystery makes the lack of nuance palatable to endure until the intrigue starts to run out of gas. The Outfit ends up taking a misguided leap of faith in its final ten minutes, twisting and turning the well-built foundation into a conclusion that’s equally confused and predictable.
For what it is, The Outfit works as a sharp and refined thriller ripped straight out of a bygone era.
Deep Water Synopsis: Vic (Ben Affleck) and Melinda (Ana de Armas) Van Allen are a couple in the small town of Little Wesley. Their loveless marriage is held together only by a precarious arrangement whereby, in order to avoid the messiness of divorce, Melinda is allowed to take any number of lovers as long as she does not desert her family.
At first glance, Vic and Melinda appear as your typical socialite couple. They spend most days passively tending to their daughter and mucking it up at festive gatherings, with their glamorous beauty conjuring the image of a pitch-perfect couple. Everything is not what it seems in Adrian Lyne’s latest domestic thriller, Deep Water.
Lyne, who remained elusive to the industry after directing 2002’s Unfaithful, became synonymous with the sumptuously trashy thrills of erotic thrillers during the genre’s heyday (Fatal Attraction and Indecent Proposal). I’ve always been a sucker for these films, as they often push their stylistic and emotional subject matter to the pinnacle of sleazy entertainment value.
With his long-awaited return, Lyne doesn’t miss a beat. Deep Water radiates gleefully pulpy energy under its self-serious image. I can see some viewers checking out as the narrative twists down a road of preposterous paths, but fans of the genre should buckle up for one of the early year’s best crowdpleasers.
There’s a reason the subgenre disappeared from the zeitgeist, with few filmmakers capturing the tricky tonal balance Lyne consistently executes. I applaud the director for never leaning into the building ridiculousness of his dopey narrative. While playing into the melodrama, Lyne skillfully showcases his array of auteur touchstones. A blend of foggy visuals and haunting edits creates a sense of palpable unease through each shocking twist. Cinematographer Eigil Bryld’s favoring of intimate framing choices also works wonders in conveying emotions simmering under the surface.
Deep Water spins a fairly goofy yarn for viewers to unwind. The narrative, crafted by Zach Helm and Euphoria creator Sam Levinson, descends into a relationship defined by some more than glaring red flags. Once the film lures viewers into its spider web of complications, tensions ratchet up to a full boil as the story indulges in its inherent ridiculous steaks. I also love the ways Helm and Levinson craft intriguing characters.
Vic, a retired middle-ager who invented the software behind military drones, fittingly exists as a haunting shadow gazing upon Melinda’s every move. As he puts on a content face, Melinda acts out through a string of affairs that play more as a challenge to Vic’s cold-hearted sensibilities. Both characters ultimately undertake their own twisted streaks of passion. The conflicting relationship creates a see-saw of intimacy and disdain towards one another, existing as an oftentimes wordless battle between a couple stuck in a problematic cycle.
Deep Water also brings the kind of star power that defined the genre’s heyday. Ben Affleck and Ana de Armas, who began dating during filming, share a compelling rapport as lovers who know the other’s sins far too well.
It’s incredible how seamless both actors mesh with their roles. Similar to Gone Girl and Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice, Affleck wears self-loathing and unhinged rage in every frame. His calculated performance plays perfectly into the smoldering presence and everyman persona that made Affleck a movie star. Ana de Armas also makes for a great sparring partner as Melinda. Her cunning wit and emotional outbursts create a character lashing out with every action. I can’t forget to mention the standout supporting cast, with Lil Rey Howery and Tracye Letts shinning as ciphers to the viewer’s bewilderment.
Deep Water isn’t flawless. The third act loses steam as the plot stagnates before the climax, which isn’t helped by the film’s unpretentious following of thriller contrivances. A brilliant conclusion saves face for the missteps, but I wish the film could have continued the taunt energy of its initial hour.
Deep Water doesn’t reinvent the wheel, but it doesn’t really have to. Lyne’s return to the silver screen radiates personality and refreshing throwback energy in full force. I hope this is just the start of a new chapter for the talented auteur.
Alice Synopsis: Alice (Keke Palmer), an enslaved person yearning for freedom on a Georgia plantation, escapes through the woods and stumbles through time into the year 1973. After she meets a disillusioned political activist (Common), she confronts the lies that kept her enslaved.
Writer/director Krystin Ver Linden strives for an ambitious debut with Alice. Asan intriguing drama/revenge thriller hybrid inspired by the strife and cultural uprise of Black America, the film charts a narrative path that brims with promise. Unfortunately, Alice – both the character and film –exist only as intriguing concepts.
The screenplay falters from jump street. Ver Linden seeps audiences into the turmoil of slave-era cruelty, a decision that elicits more groans than potency from its trope-laden design. The plodding, 40-minute introductory chapter drags audiences into a state of misery without adding perspective to the traumatic period. Strong performances from Gaius Charles and Kenneth Farmer help humanize the steaks, but these segments never resonate above played-out contrivances.
Thankfully, Ver Linden cleverly twists expectations once Alice discovers 1970’s America. I give the writer/director high praise for her inventive concept. By juxtaposing the turmoils of slavery against a period of cultural rebirth, Alice sets the stage for a story of remarkable resiliency and empowerment.
None of the potential reaches its intended heights. The latter half suffers from a similarly surface-level approach, presenting thoughtful ideas without knowing what to say about them. Ver Linden favors the straight-forward pulp of her revenge premise rather than patient character-building, which significantly limits the film’s dramatic potential. The final product ends up feeling like an abridged pilot for what this story could accomplish, breathlessly racing to the finish line before the viewer even realizes the credits are rolling.
Alice feels similarly routine in terms of aesthetics. Ver Linden and Cinematographer Alex Disenhof frame everything with the same bland greyness. Even the blaxploitation-themed thriller subplot is dead on arrival, lacking the catharsis or stylistic vibrancy to enrichen the pastiche.
Even with the missteps, parts of Alice still compel. Keke Palmer emanates vulnerability and instant gravity as Alice, elevating underwritten material through her sheer presence alone. It’s a performance that feels deserving of a superior film, but I am sure this will put many on notice about Palmer’s skillset. Common also adds his usual conviction as Alice’s former activist friend.
Alice never elevates past its high-concept premise, ultimately radiating with the imperfections of its first-time filmmaker. That said, I credit Ver Linden and company for taking a thoughtful and sincere conceptual risk here. It certainly deserves more recognition than the similar-themed dudAntebellum.
In this edition of the New Release Breakdown, I take a deep dive into Pixar’s latest animated effort Turning Red, the 2022 Sundance offering Fresh, and the Oscar-nominated period piece Cyrano. Let’s get rolling!
Turning Red
Turning Red Synopsis: Mei Lee (Rosalie Chiang) is a 13-year-old girl who is torn between being her mother’s (Sandra Oh) obedient daughter and the chaos of her youth. As if that were not enough, she turns into a giant red panda when she gets too excited.
Pixar continues to operate more like a prestigious art house studio rather than a mainstream animation entity, entrusting their elite team of storytellers and animators to conjure thoughtful depictions of the human condition. From a mermaid discovering companionship during the endless summers to a superhero family dealing with their superpowered family dilemmas, Pixar consistently mines creative storytelling avenues that often resonate on a deeply personal level.
Domee Shi’s feature-length writing/directorial debut, Turning Red, unsurprisingly falls in the same mold. Shi approaches her material with vibrant visceral and storytelling sensibilities, injecting an energetic pulse that feels tailor-made for her jumpy adolescent protagonist. It’s a blast to watch the filmmaker zero her sights on the teenage experience. Shi possesses a keen understanding of the period’s distinct joys and conflictions, with Mei enduring an all-too-real struggle for authorship over her life under the shadow of her loving yet controlling mother.
Turning Red finds a comfort zone in its most intimate moments. Enhanced by the narrative’s adept cultural understanding and clever implementation of the early 2000s zeitgeist, Shi repurposes commonplace tenants of the coming of age genre in an experience that feels distinctly its own. I also credit the filmmaker and Pixar for never shying away from difficult conversations. The film handles its subject matter with a proper balance of sensitivity and empathy for its subjects, building toward a well-earned emotional crescendo by the time credits roll.
Turning Red doesn’t avoid some of Pixar’s frequent trappings, including a narrative that relies too heavily on commonplace narrative mechanics. Still, Shi and company draw an agreeable and emotionally sincere descent into the adolescent experience.
Turning Red is now available on Disney+.
Fresh
Fresh Synopsis: Frustrated by scrolling dating apps only to end up on lame, tedious dates, Noa (Daisy Edgar-Jones) takes a chance by giving her number to the awkwardly charming Steve (Sebastian Stan) after a produce-section meeting at the grocery store.
If social-media age dating wasn’t scary enough, director Mimi Cave and screenwriter Lauryn Kahn delve into a meet-cute gone wrong with their pointed horror offering Fresh. While their film doesn’t tread revelatory waters, Cave and Kahn craft an emphatic denouncement of the dating world’s twisted inequities.
Every aspect of Fresh feels well-tuned to the narrative’s deeper thematic connotations. Our protagonist Noa exists as a cynical realist after running the gamut of unpleasant dating experiences, often dealing with men who cruelly project their inherent insecurities upon her. When she meets the affable goofball Steve, things seem to be finally taking a turn for the better.
Without spoiling the narrative’s macabre journey, Noa soon finds herself in her most chilling relationship dynamic yet. Cave and Kahn infuse their horror sensibility as a clever magnification of Noa’s deeply-seated dread towards dating. The duo effectively delves into how the modern dating world continues to transform into a dangerous playing field – one that’s often defined by men’s disturbing levels of possessiveness and commodification towards women.
Even with its concerning connotations, Fresh doesn’t operate in a constant dreary state. The filmmaking team balances darkly comedic flourishes throughout its twisted narrative, finding provocative ways to elicit chuckles out of challenging situations (I loved the use of 80’s pop confectionary songs). Stars Daisy Edgar-Jones and Sebastian Stan possess the range and gravitas to articulate the film’s tricky tonal balance, with Stan stealing the screen in particular as Noa’s enigmatic boyfriend.
Fresh can get too caught up in its horror machinations at times, which ultimately prevents a more nuanced depiction of its engaging subject matter. That said, Cave and company strike a piercing statement when their narrative eventually finds its rhythm.
Fresh is now available on Hulu.
The Adam Project
The Adam Project Synopsis: After accidentally crash-landing in 2022, time-traveling fighter pilot Adam Reed (Ryan Reynolds) teams up with his 12-year-old self (Walker Scobell) for a mission to save the future.
Have you ever endured a film that seemed to have all the right pieces, yet none of them quite clicked together? Enter director Shawn Levy with his next easily digestible blockbuster, The Adam Project. For Netflix, the streamer’s latest attempts at conjuring big-budget thrills on the small screen never escape its factory-assembled construction.
Levy, the helmer behind studio-friendly hits like Night at the Museum and Free Guy, knows how to craft a competent feature. Every frame bustles with sleek craftsmanship and an array of star-studded A-listers, breezily passing along while incorporating a slew of agreeable homages to its beloved science-fiction counterparts. Levy and the screenwriters (Jonathan Tropper, T.S. Nowlin, and Jennifer Flackett) also attempt to infuse emotional undertones as the two Adams explore their complicated family bonds. When spurts click together, The Adam Project emanates the type of feel-good energy ripped straight out of 80’s crowdpleasing staples like E.T. and The Goonies.
Unfortunately, Levy and the company fail to bolster their promising core. The Adam Project never infuses its time-honored tenants with new ideas or creative upgrades. The general familiarity dilutes the experience into a soulless amalgam of other projects – one that feels more like a consumable product than a thoughtfully constructed project.
Even the cast, which includes Ryan Reynolds, Jennifer Garner, Mark Ruffalo, Zoe Saldana, and Catherine Keener, is left in the dust as they reenact their typical movie star shtick. Everyone seems to be hitting the right beats, but none of the performances or material features the ingenuity to breathe new life into the stale formula.
The Adam Project showcases Netflix vying for another blockbuster franchise without understanding what makes films of this elk flourish. If you are looking for an easy-going romp, I’d recommend the star-studded caper Red Notice instead.
The Adam Project is now available on Netflix.
Cheaper by the Dozen
It’s no secret Disney is surfing down a remake wave. I am already growing tired of The House of Mouse trend, as most of these reimaginings offer meager improvements to their time honored-classics. Most of these remakes only serve as a reason to remember their time-honored counterparts.
Blacklish writer and producer Kenya Barris tries to write the wayward trend with Cheaper by the Dozen. Relegated to a streaming release, the studio’s attempt at re-imaging this remake-of-a-remakefeels just as dysfunctional as its titular oversized family.
Barris, co-writer Jenifer Rice-Genzuk Henry, and director Gail Lerner earn points for having their heart in the right place. The trio occasionally wrestles with the modern struggles facing a divorced, mixed-race family, offering a few thoughtfully conceived conversations about factors that often get overlooked. Make no mistake, Cheaper by the Dozen is still a sitcom-esque comedy that delves into familial struggles with a heavy dose of sugary optimism. Fans of the original, or the 2003 remake and its forgettable sequel, may be charmed by the familiar shenanigans.
The good intentions never translated into an enjoyable experience for me. Zach Braff and Gabrielle Union make an agreeable enough pair as the paternal Bakers, yet both stars find themselves stuck in a scattershot comedy that never finds its rhythm. Cheaper by the Dozen overstuffs itself with hackneyed subplots, comedic pratfalls, and sentimental speeches. It’s a tonal blend that drives the film forward without a proper roadmap.
Worst of all, Cheaper by the Dozen lacks heart and originality. The film reassembles its promising premise into a forgettable blip on Disney+’s array of content.
The Batman Synopsis: Batman (Robert Pattinson) ventures into Gotham City’s underworld when a sadistic killer leaves behind a trail of cryptic clues. As the evidence begins to lead closer to home and the scale of the perpetrator’s plans becomes clear, he must forge new relationships, unmask the culprit and bring justice to the abuse of power and corruption that has long plagued the metropolis.
Marvel continues to dominate mainstream interest amongst the superhero sphere, but no character on their roster is quite as beloved on the big-screen as Batman. The Caped Crusader registered one of the genre’s first successful outings in 1966 and has continued to evolve the superheroes ever since.
No character in the genre serves as such a distinct genre amalgam. Between 14 big-screen appearances, Batman features in Oscar-nominated crime epics (The Dark Knight), gothically atmospheric mood pieces (Batman Returns and Batman: Mask of the Phantasm), and even colorfully silly romps (Batman and Robin and LEGO Batman).
Under the vision of Cloverfield helmer Matt Reeves, the gothic hero descends into his despair, angst-ridden roots with The Batman. A youthful take on the character is one of the franchise’s few unexplored avenues, with Reeves and co-screenwriter Peter Craig analyzing the psyche of the pained superhero before reaching his final state of maturation.
The approach – and the film itself – rank among the most inspired reflections on Batman’s foreboding darkness to date. The Batman represents a holistic connection to the character and his universe – intimately digging into Bruce Wayne’s despair-ridden presence in ways that previous adaptations mostly shied away from.
I am prepared for this to come off as hyperbolic; Robert Pattinson’s new interpretation marks the character’s best live-action interpretation to date (I am not dethroning Kevin Conroy just yet). Insulated in a state of emotional paralysis, Pattinson reflects a disheveled recklessness that aptly captures young Bruce/Batman’s self-loathing odyssey. His nights patrolling the street are less heroic and more emotionally disturbed during initial scenes – using his vigilante role to spread his fear and anger across his victims. Once he returns to the cave, Bruce offers only detached passiveness toward his usual paternal figure Alfred as he sinks into the misery of his nightly crusades.
Pattinson reflects each detail with precision. I respect the creative team’s dedication to an evolving character, one who doesn’t have to appear inherently likable at the introduction. Pattinson and Reeves effectively take to task Bruce/Batman for his self-centered pursuit for justice. By analyzing layers of unmined details – such as Bruce’s child-like emotional innocence or his inherent privilege as a billionaire who remains locked in his insulated worldview – the team brilliantly enriches the well-known character with thoughtful descents into his psyche.
The film surrounding Pattinson is just as inspired. Even when considering his respected track record with Cloverfield and Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, Reeves reaches new heights as an auteur. His distinct take on Gotham blends elements of dreary realism within a theatrically gothic stage that feels tailor-made for the character. The world feels ripped straight from the character’s classic iconography, showcasing an inspired reinvention mixed with its own artistic frequency.
Cinematographer Greig Fraser helps conjure an intense atmosphere through revealing framing choices and color-soaked ascetics – while Composer Michael Giacchino allows each scene to soar emotionally through his blend of instrumentals and emotional undertones. It’s rare to see a blockbuster so brazen in its grand pursuits. I felt enraptured by the film as the team constantly evolved their artistic inspirations. Whether it’s the haunting echoes of Nirvana or the eerie dread of 90’s David Fincher thrillers, each inspiration acts as a thoughtful enhancement of the material and its tendencies.
Some have taken issue with Reeves and co-writer Peter Craige’s approach to plotting. The duo craft a chaotic criminal web that feels almost breathless in its frenzy of nefarious twists and turns. For me, the busy narrative works as a sound reflection of Gotham’s endless onslaught of villainy. Similar to the relentless plotting of Rocksteady’s Batman Arkham franchise, The Batman captures overwhelming exhaustion as the Caped Crusader tries to stay one step ahead of his rogues’ gallery of foes.
It’s also a blast to see Batman’s iconic foes revitalized in a new light. Drawn in the image of a self-important, social-media age terrorist, Paul Dano imbues manic outburst into his deranged interpretation of The Riddler. I think it’s the first time the character appears on the big-screen as anything more than a one-note punchline, with Dano drawing moments of unhinged brilliance as a warped offshoot of Batman’s vigilante crusade.
Zoe Kravitz follows up her stellar turn in Kimi with yet another commanding performance. The actress elicits bravado and breezy confidence in Catwoman – drawing an alluring energy that never masks the character’s inner turmoil. Jeffery Wright creates the first iteration of James Gordon with genuine agency as Batman’s trusted confidant, while Colin Farrell skillfully reimagines The Penguin as a smarmy, wise-cracking mobster.
I am having a hard time not spoiling some of The Batman’s best surprises, including the remarkably poignant journey it takes audiences on. Reeves not only creates a first chapter that draws genuine excitement for the future – but also imagines one of the most forward-thinking arcs for the Caped Crusader.
Seeing Batman evolve from an emotionally withdrawn anti-hero into a symbol of hope serves as a much-needed reminder of superheroes and their emanating goodwill. After basking viewers in a land of darkness, Reeves and The Batman still conveys empathy and emotionality behind superheroes’ sacrifices for mankind.
Quite simply, The Batman sets the bar for the crowded superhero subgenre in a bold, refreshingly auteur-driven manner. DC deserves props for entrusting Reeves and company to play in the sandbox and it pays off brilliantly.
