Black Mass
by Hope Madden, MaddWolf.com
Johnny Depp is a remarkable talent whose film choices can be frustrating. Who’s to complain, just because he often buries his unique take on human foibles underneath quirky caricatures in wigs and eyeliner or a handlebar moustache?
I am – but not today. In Scott Cooper’s Black Mass, Depp may undergo a physical transformation, but it’s his skill and authenticity that leave an impression.
In this biopic, Depp plays Southie mob king James “Whitey” Bulger, a “ripened psychopath” who strikes a sweet deal with neighborhood pal turned FBI agent John Connolly (Joel Edgerton).
Front to back, Black Mass spills over with reminders of other films – in particular, The Departed and, thanks in part to the outstanding soundtrack, American Hustle. How could it avoid comparisons? How many new ways are there to tell a story about dodgy criminal/FBI alliances or the Irish mob in Boston?
Wisely, Cooper’s focus is on the complex relationship between Bulger and Connolly. Edgerton handles his character arc, from misguided idealist to blindly loyal accomplice, with subtlety, but this is Depp’s movie.
Depp’s nuanced evolution from friendly neighborhood sociopath to cruel monster leaves chills. He can turn on a dime, as he does in the now required Joe Pesci-esque episode. (Just substitute “funny how?” with “family recipe.”) But the more powerful scenes are the ones that sneak up on you – a situation with a colleague’s step daughter, or Bulger’s moments alone with Connolly’s wife.
The balance of the cast manages to keep pace with Depp’s forbidding performance – Rory Cochrane, Corey Stoll, Dakota Johnson, Juno Temple, and Peter Sarsgaard are all particularly impressive in small roles.
For all the truly fine performances, Cooper’s somber effort can’t seem to define itself. There are flashes – frames resembling a cross between a crime scene photo and an old picture postcard; or individual, eerily crafted moments – but the effort on the whole limits itself to by-the-numbers storytelling.
Depp, on the other hand, sporting vampiric blue contacts that emphasize Bulger’s eviscerating contempt and barely restrained violence, excels. Black Mass may not be quite able to separate itself from the pack, but Depp’s performance will leave a mark.
Everest
by George Wolf, MaddWolf.com
First and foremost, the film account of a legendarily tragic Mt. Everest expedition has to look the part. By that measure, Everest is a masterpiece.
Director Baltasar Kormakur displays pristine craftsmanship and finely-tuned instincts in displaying both the awe-inspiring enormity of the mountain – and the folly of believing you are not at its mercy. Blessed with Salvatore Totino’s breathtaking cinematography, Kormakur (Contraband, 2 Guns) effectively translates the punishing nature of an Everest climb, using a gracefully fluid camera to build set pieces of wonder and true gut-wrenching tension.
You will feel cold, tired, and small.
Based on the deadly 1996 Everest trek chronicled in the best-seller Into Thin Air, the more intimate aspects of story present some inherent disadvantages for acclaimed screenwriters Simon Beaufoy (127 Hours, Slumdog Millionaire) and William Nicholson (Les Miserables, Gladiator).
The sheer number of real people and unique personal angles involved makes it much more difficult to establish the deep connection of a more singular experience such as 127 Hours. Add in the hoods, hats and masks that cover many faces on the climb, and those not familiar with the book may find it hard to keep track of just who is who.
A mere 20 years seems too recent to siphon the events through fictional characters (a la Titanic), and Everest aims for as much humanity as each character’s screen time will allow.
These writers are more qualified than most to tackle it, and they are able to make some moments resonate, particularly with long-distance conversations between expedition leader Rob Hall (Jason Clarke) and his pregnant wife back home (Kiera Knightley). Their script also tackles the “why do you climb” question with welcome understatement, never elevating any one individual in the equalizing event that the group is marching into.
Ultimately, Everest feels like an earthbound bookend to Gravity. It’s a magnificent, grand scale achievement – the 3D IMAX version is a must – with a slightly less developed human side.
Queen of Earth
by George Wolf, MaddWolf.com
Don’t bother trying to guess where Queen of Earth might be going, you’ll miss the beauty of getting there.
It’s a wildly enigmatic take on the dynamics of female friendship, ambitiously (and surprisingly?) told by writer/director Alex Ross Perry, who laces the character studies with descents into madness and subversive humor.
Catherine (Elisabeth Moss) is reeling from a traumatic breakup that hit not long after her father’s death. Her longtime friend Virginia (Katherine Waterston) offers the family lake house for some girl time, much like their getaway a year earlier when it was Virginia who was suffering.
As the women meet at the picturesque setting, it is clear they have grown apart from their days as BFFs, and Perry is no hurry to tell you why. Catherine’s ever-present sketch pad is an apt metaphor for the narrative structure at work here. Perry utilizes extreme closeups, shaky cameras, out of focus shots and quick fades to provide beautiful glimpses into a complicated relationship.
Slowly, the often combative dialogue and the out of sequence flashbacks provide some possible answers, even as more questions are raised. With a Gothic soundtrack and a constant sheen of despair, you begin to wonder if Perry’s vision will ultimately include a murderous rampage.
But that would be too easy, and a betrayal of all that’s been building. Perry presents a perceptive tableau of emotions, all driven home to perfection through wonderful performances from his leads. Moss is downright electric, rolling through a spectrum of emotional outbursts and withdrawn silences with an authenticity that leaves you nervous to look away. Waterston may have the more “straight woman” role, but she gives Virginia a steely resolve that grounds the film, and invites curiosity into her side of this story.
Perry (The Color Wheel, Listen Up Philip) makes the comedy less overt and the psychological warfare more pointed this time out, but his familiar elements remain. Queen of Earth brings unlikeable characters who struggle with alienation, disenchantment and dangerous depression, and leaves you glad you didn’t pass on the chance to spend time with them.
Slow Learners
by George Wolf, MaddWolf.com
“When was the last time you went on a date?”
“What day is it?”
“Sunday.”
“1986.”
That’s an amusing bit, and a great example of the wit that Slow Learners leans on to try and elevate a strikingly unoriginal premise.
Jeff (Adam Palley) and Anne (Sarah Burns) are desperate and dateless. He has women tell him he looks like a “lesbian newscaster” while she needs friends to remind her not to wear “the cat sweater.”
They’re buddies! They can’t get together because, you know, they just don’t think of each other that way! It would be weird…nervous laughter…ewww!
So of course they hatch a plan to help each other break out of their respective ruts, and before long Jeff is juggling more women than he can handle and Anne is finally catching the eye of that hottie who was always ignoring her. But still, they’re just not finding happiness, what ever will they do?
It is nice that for once, the can’t-find-lovers don’t look like Anne Hathaway or Jake Gyllenhaal. Palley makes you squint because he might be Jimmy Kimmel and Burns seems like that new SNL cast member you can’t name. They’re perfectly fine looking and likable enough, just not matinee idols, which becomes ironic when you think of the possibilities that the film leaves unexplored.
In his debut screenplay, writer Matt Serwood ignores the satire potential for a straightforward rom-com, managing consistent smiles, if only a couple laugh out loud moments. Directors Don Argott and Sheena M. Joyce, documentary vets behind the excellent The Art of the Steal, seem equally tentative about branching out. Too many scenes reek of improv class, while many production elements seem better suited for a small screen sit com.
Slow Learners is all in good fun, I guess, but you wonder if the effort might have been saved for something a little less stale.
