Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy

Renee Zellweger’s iconic British protagonist has become something of a cinematic treasure across four films now. But her films haven’t made us just laugh along at her missteps, but watch her develop, and even come of age, you could say. This final film has a somewhat more bittersweet tone, though, as Bridget’s lover, Mark Darcy, is no longer in the picture. Four years after his loss, she is finally ready to move on and find love again. The film maturely tackles coming to terms with grief, finding joy again while coexisting with the memory of those who have passed on. But it’s also still irreverent, charming, and romantic. It tackles some of the basics that the first film gave a go at, but Zellweger not only shows Bridget’s goofy side, but her struggles with being a single mother of two, and the absence of her husband.

Joining the mix are Chiwetel Ejiofor and Leo Woodall, who both charm in different ways, but Ejiofor in particular has great chemistry with Zellweger. Though it does retread familiar rom-com territory, or that of comedies about parents raising children, and it’s not the sharpest or smartest of the franchise over Bridget Jones’s Baby, it still offers a good time and a heartwarming conclusion to a lovable, messy delight of a character.

Captain America: Brave New World

Sam Wilson has fully accepted and embodied the role of Captain America in a post-Blip world, but comes into conflict with President Thaddeus “Thunderbolt” Ross after an international incident that unveils a deadly conspiracy.

The latest Marvel Studios film, which tries its very best to pay tribute to political conspiracy thrillers such as In the Line of Fire and The Pelican Brief, occasionally entertains but ends up retreading too much familiar ground and feeling too flat. Though it’s great to see Mackie donning the titular suit and in the leading role on the big screen, his character isn’t given real meaningful impact besides what he already went through before and represents for others. Harrison Ford brings a deeper gravitas to Ross than we did in William Hurt’s portrayal of the character, but other characters leave much to be desired, particularly those played by Shira Haas, Giancarlo Esposito, and Tim Blake Nelson. The antagonist has an intriguing backstory but hardly feels plausible in his strategies and dialogue. Though Danny Ramirez gives a fun performance, Carl Lumbly is the only one giving real soul to the film as the fascinating Isaiah Bradley.

The film stumbles in its attempts to show the political consequences of some of the past MCU films, which is interesting but doesn’t deliver anything powerful besides a cool action backdrop. The script as a whole starts off much better as it ends, but even then is mostly rehashing ideas from The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, such as dangerous super soldier villains and the political and national representations of Captain America. Even compared to that miniseries, this film has far less soul, wit, or intrigue, with a half-baked villain plot that doesn’t lead to much. It also feels somewhat implausible compared to the rules that past MCU projects have set, but sadly, the film ultimately feels empty because it’s devoid of real thematic weight. Any attempt at such felt lousy and recycled, particularly the third act, in which the CGI is distracting and the resolution is rather underwhelming. Attempts to set up what’s to come in the MCU feel forced, and though this may feel serviceable enough as a big action film, it’s underwhelming as a Captain America film (considering how stellar the action and themes were in the first three) and ultimately forgettable, which is not what a film with Sam Wilson as its protagonist should be.

A Complete Unknown

Bob Dylan as a person has always seemed to be an enigma, as this film’s title hints. But his art has captured, moved, and inspired generations. A Complete Unknown isn’t as interested in cracking Bob’s code, rather portraying him as a complicated man searching to evolve through his music and art, while Timothee Chalamet, over the course of the film, becomes Dylan through his musical commitment and showing both his more grand and uglier sides. He channels Dylan’s layered voice beautifully, while also portraying him as a wild card, who was occasionally destructive towards others on his journey towards fully realizing himself.

Though the film will absolutely make you want to learn more about Dylan’s impact and accomplishments, it’ll definitely have you as eager to discover more about another folk singer as well: Joan Baez. Every time Monica Barbaro graces the screen in A Complete Unknown, she brings an enchantment and captivation in the role, with a singing voice so transfixing you wouldn’t believe she only first learned to sing to play Baez here. Edward Norton shines as the optimistic if fixated and unapologetic Pete Seeger, as does Elle Fanning as Dylan’s love interest Sylvie. James Mangold’s direction, including the shot-on-film look, the production value, and the musical scenes all demand a theatrical watch to experience the folk music being performed with such powerful sound design and aesthetic. Even as someone who was never quite pulled to the genre before, the film makes you feel the power of music in inspiring, changing, and moving others.

Though the first half is rather fantastic, the second half gets so caught up in the stunning musical sequences that the story does unnecessarily slow down, and though the ending is satisfying, there is a little more impact to be wished for. But it still succeeds due to its incredible look and the commitment of its actors, with Mangold yet again proving himself an expert storyteller and filmmaker. The film takes you throughout a moment in time, history, and culture, and makes a strong case for its resonance, and for the awards buzz for Chalamet’s remarkable work as the renowned musician.

I’m Still Here

I’m Still Here takes place during the tightening grip of a military dictatorship in Brazil, 1971, focusing on a real family that suffered a horrific injustice at the hands of their corrupt government. However, Eunice Paiva emerged stronger than ever from the most unimaginable of tragedies and suffering — as a woman and a mother. Fernanda Torres gives a subtle ferocity to Paiva and the film: a ferocity to both her love and her agony. The film does too good of a job making you connect with the beautiful family of Eunice, Rubens and their children, before their reality is shaken forever. When the film takes this dark turn, you feel the anguish and horror with Eunice, and the impact of this part in the film never quite leaves you, even as the film continues throughout time in her life. Throughout this time afterwards, Eunice’s love preservers throughout grief, and she makes unthinkable choices, that make you think about their unexpected nature.

The film is a reflection of fascism throughout history and its deep-seated ripples on an individual, a family, and a society. The aesthetic evolves throughout the different tones of the film, and though it goes on for five minutes too long at the end, it hits hard with its devastating themes and moving story. It’s a deeply powerful and heart-wrenching film about loss, grief, and the barbarity of fascism made unforgettable by Torres’ leading performance and the difficult yet remarkable subject material.

September 5

During the 1972 Summer Olympics in Munich, Germany, an American sports broadcasting team must adapt to live coverage the Israeli athletes being held hostage by a terrorist group.

September 5 is an expertly crafted, tense docudrama set only in the ABC control room, and it’s this restraint, or visual distance from the actual violence, that makes the unfolding of events and revealing of information so much more impactful. Peter Sarsgaard gets to let out an unfiltered side to his character which is fun to watch, while John Magaro gives a wonderful performance in the lead, as the character who serves as the audience’s gateway into this situation and makes us ask what we would do when presented with such dilemmas. The film is so gripping not just because it focuses on a real-life historical tragedy, but because it’s rooted in the human soul of its characters. September 5 is about when humanity and journalism cross, and asks questions about journalistic ethics, and why people are so attracted to such spectacle and horror on the news. Each character’s decisions comes from a place of humanity and conflict, and we understand every perspective, even when they differ.

Most importantly, September 5 feels like it’s not only bringing you into a horrific event from 50 years ago, but heavily mirroring the present, especially viewing the film as a Jew and Israeli. It’s a riveting and urgent film about the role of broadcasting and storytelling in our lives, well making its audience reflect on the ripples of such violent and provocative images captured and shown to the world. It’s a tightly paced, gripping, and emotional film about the dangerous responsibility for the truth that’s a thoughtful and powerful experience, whether or not you’re already familiar with the tragic events of that day.

Companion

Companion might fall apart if you think too much about plausibility, but that’s not the whole point. It starts out as a “getaway” thriller like any other, but soon things go, well, incredibly south. There isn’t much I can say beyond that because the story and its unfolding take so many unexpected directions that elevate the enjoyment of watching the film. Not to mention, it’s incredibly funny. Sophie Thatcher continues breaking into the thriller genre amazingly, giving her all to what the character needs. Jack Quaid is also fittingly cast as a seemingly “nice guy” with more insecurity under the surface. Rounding out the great supporting cast are Harvey Guillen and Lukas Cage, who nail the comedic timing and pitiful complexities of their characters.

The editing, comedic timing, music choices, and thrills elevate Companion above a few minor writing missteps towards the end. It’s entertaining while smart, with some outrageous dialogue and very well-filmed sequences and production value. It’s not the first modern film to try the satirical horror-thriller approach to issues of masculinity and toxic relationships, even in the last few months, but does it cleverly and with so much fun, including the humor and twisted violence, that it wins you over from start to finish.

Better Man

Better Man chronicles the rise, fall, and resurgence of popstar Robbie Williams, with a twist: Williams himself as depicted as a CGI monkey. This odd approach threatens to distract at times, and works better conceptually than in execution. However, this musical biopic rises among the crowd of forgettable tellings of famous musician’s lives through its vivacious musical sequences and booming soul. Williams, who narrates the film himself, doesn’t let himself off the hook, inviting us into genuine introspection of his ugliest parts: his insecurities, self-destructiveness, addiction, and depression. Michael Gracey’s direction puts everything in his last grand musical film The Greatest Showman to shame within minutes — the lively numbers, dynamic camerawork and choreography make the visual style bombastic while remaining intimate with Williams’ core as a man, not just his journey as a famous singer.

The effect the main character being a CGI chimpanzee has is occasionally jarring and even laughable at worst, but at best, creates an interesting visual experience compared to films with similar plots, and brings you into Williams’ imposter syndrome and self-perception. However, one can’t help but think the gimmick would’ve worked stronger if it had only lasted for one scene. Still, the film is such a breath of fresh air in that it tackles familiar points and themes from the genre on a far more up-close manner, such as feeling trapped by fame, or being numbed by addiction. Non-fans will want to learn much more about Robbie Williams’s story and learn more about his story. Fans will greatly enjoy Williams’s songs being elevated by such beautiful sequences and appreciate a bold and eccentric yet humble, emotional, and entertaining biopic.

A Real Pain

A Real Pain beautifully balances the heartbreaking and hysterical through the dynamic of Jesse Eisenberg and Kieran Culkin as cousins David and Benji, who travel from New York to Poland together on a tour in memory of their deceased grandmother, a Polish Holocaust survivor. It’s about so many things, whether big or small. From a Jewish perspective, the film powerfully touches on complicated feelings of nationality towards countries in which one’s family lived but suffered horrific atrocities, as well as generational trauma. As someone who has embarked on this tour myself, the film captures not only the visceral nature of walking into places where such evil was committed eight decades ago (which both I and the characters here came to feel, wasn’t even that long ago), but the deep emotional connection towards one’s ancestors, community, and people it invokes.

From a personal perspective, the film is also very much about empathy — the idea of feeling others’ pain, and sadness, to better understand and connect with oneself. Kieran Culkin in particular brings such harsh complexity to his character. Benji is fascinated with human connection and constantly in pursuit of embracing living life with all his senses, but doesn’t always know how to feel, or express himself to others. Even when he pushes others away and embarrasses himself, the audiences can’t help but hold him close to their heart and feel deeply for him in every moment, because of his desire to grieve for his grandmother, and true yet misguided desire for the best. Eisenberg, in one of his most substantial and beautiful performances, wonderfully conveys David’s pull to and from Benji — his responsibility yet resentment towards the way Benji feels, which comes from a distance and envy from him, yet a dear love for him. Their bond is as moving as it is poignant, and even irreverent, and best of all, it’s easy to connect with them both as an audience member, despite how wildly different they are. Eisenberg’s script is devoted to his love for his Jewish heritage and culture, and exploration of the human condition that may even make you reflect on how you live your life. He and Culkin together make for a wonderful pair in a film that’ll take you on an emotional journey filled with weight and resonance.

Nosferatu

Out of all the reimaginings of the tale as old as time that is Dracula, none have been quite as chilling and outright transfixing as Robert Eggers’ Nosferatu. Eggers captures beautiful simplicity yet utter darkness in the film’s breathtaking imagery, as well as deeply terrifying sequences of gothic horror. From the jaw-dropping opening scene, the film captures its audience in a sense of heart-stopping fear that never ends until long after the credits roll. Jarin Blaschke’s cinematography wonderfully uses imbalanced lighting, gloomy color schemes, and silhouettes to create something that looks timeless. Every shot evokes a feeling of an ancient evil’s presence that’s about to be awoken and get ahold of what we’re looking at, which is exactly what happens with Count Orlok. Bill Skarsgard is unrecognizable under stunning makeup and changes his voice to create a towering and skin-crawling vampire, who’s face we wisely don’t see in close-ups until much later on. Lily-Rose Depp is a scene-stealer whose performance is so astounding that if you stop to realize it’s acting, it becomes hard to comprehend the sheer levels of physical and emotional commitment required — Depp never makes you question it once. Though the film cleverly shifts main characters between her and Nicholas Hoult, she’s the film’s beating heart and muscle.

Eggers expands on all his trademark oddities as a filmmaker, making us feel helplessly entranced. It’s nail-biting, gory, and does not hold back on scares and twisted, graphic content. The director feels in complete command of the style, whether the score, production design, or material, that digs into ideas of masculinity, obsession, and self-deception, without needing to overexplain what it’s truly about. Though I was dreading what was about to happen between the main characters and the titular vampire, I could never look away; I was deeply unsettled yet never wanted the experience to end, knowing I was in such good hands. No matter whether you know the story beats or not, there’s genuine shock and brilliance in every scene’s execution, breathing new life into a story that felt like it was always meant to fall into Eggers’ hands. It’s masterful and haunting, like watching a gorgeous fever dream that keeps building and building until an unforgettable final act. You may be going for the cast, the monstrous scares, or even just the cinematography — individually, they’re remarkable, yet together, the parts create a spellbinding whole.

The Fire Inside

Rachel Morrison impresses in her touching and exciting directorial debut. The film focuses on Claressa Shields, the only American boxer to win a gold medal at the Olympics — let alone at age 16!

Morrison’s energetic style and the vibrant soundtrack give a Creed-like energy to The Fire Inside, a film that portrays the city of Flint as the ultimate underdog and gives the audience characters we can really interact with and understand, even if we don’t always agree with them, such as Claressa’s parents. Ryan Destiny shines in her first major role, giving Claressa Shields a titular fire and rageful drive to win that makes her fascinating and lovable.

What makes the film worth the price of admission is watching Brian Tyree Henry work his magic in an awards-worthy powerhouse of a performance. As Claressa’s coach Jason, Henry not only extends an enduring tough love that anchors the film, but makes the audience fall in love with the character and wish for him to be our coach and grounding force. Henry’s one-of-a-kind humanity and charm makes Jason lovable and riveting, and we as an audience deeply care for him and understand his decisions even when Claressa might not.

As for the film as a whole, there are many familiar beats to other sports and boxing films that it touches on, but it never loses its heart and engagement and even subverts the typical uplifting sports film structure to show that its true soul was in this coach-student relationship that feels like so much more to us. It’s not going to rank among the greatest boxing pictures, but surely is worth a watch for a feel-good story.