Sinners

Director: Ryan Coogler
Starring: Michael B. Jordan, Hailee Steinfeld, Miles Caton, Jack O' Connell, Wunmi Mosaku, Jayme Lawson, Omar Miller, Delroy Lindo, Peter Dreimanis, Lola Kirke, Li Jun Li, Saul Williams, Yao, David Maldonado, Helena Hu, Buddy Guy
Running Time: 137 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)    

Writer/director Ryan Coogler takes a big swing with his supernatural drama Sinners, which burns slowly until erupting into a full blown horror spectacle. Following a first half that draws favorable comparisons to Killers of the Flower Moon, we're prepared for the possibility this too will be a historical exploration into generational trauma, racism and religion. And it is, only with Coogler taking a wildly different turn to get there, with music functioning as these characters' paths to salvation. 

Sharing a lot more in common with 1996's From Dusk Till Dawn than the franchise projects Coogler's known for, it's a uniquely conceived genre period piece that doesn't sacrifice the mainstream appeal of his previous work. But what sticks out most is how he deftly handles challenging material that could have gone wrong in any number of ways. While the writing and performances carry an opening hour we'd rather not see end, the real insanity starts when he pulls the trigger and all hell breaks loose.

It's 1932 and identical twins and World War I veterans Smoke and Stack Moore (Michael B. Jordan) return to their hometown of Clarksdale, Mississippi after working for the Chicago Mob for years. Upon purchasing an old sawmill from a local landowner, they plan to open a juke joint establishment for the Black community with singing, dancing and a bar. They're joined by their cousin Sammie (Miles Caton), an aspiring guitarist whose pastor father believes blues music is the devil and would far rather his son be at church. 

The twins also recruit Smoke's girlfriend Annie (Wunmi Mosaku) as cook, town drunk Delta Slim (Delroy Lindo) as their pianist, sharecropper Cornbread (Omar Miller) as a bouncer and local Chinese shopkeeper spouses Grace (Li Jun Li) and Bo Chow (Yao) as suppliers. Despite distractions stemming from the animosity Stack's mixed-race ex-girlfriend Mary (Hailee Steinfeld) harbors toward him and Sammie's infatuation with married singer Pearline (Jayme Lawson), the opening is a success. At least until the arrival of vampire Remmick (Jack O' Connell) with married Klu Klux Klan couple Bert and Joan (Peter Dreimanis and Lola Kirke), who crave much more than blood. 

If trailers and commercials didn't already hint where the story's headed, you'd wonder what the feared, respected Smokestack Twins are up to when they arrive, throwing their weight around like they own the town. Unfailingly loyal one minute, brutally violent the next, it's clear the money and connections they've made in Chicago has only strengthened their grip over Clarksdale. Distinguishable by their contrasting red and blue hats, they're also simultaneously loved and hated by residents, many of whom know better than to cross them. 

As the brothers attempt to get the joint off the ground, we see another side of them that's filled with regret and determined to create something that will bring this community together through a shared love of music. The loyalty is evident in their recruitment of Sammie, who limps into his father's church bruised and battered in the film's opening flashforward, offering a hint of what's to come. With music and excitement filling the air, an Remmick's gang crashes these opening night festivities as they attempt to assimilate everyone into their undead cult, resulting in a power struggle between good and evil.     

While the vampires seemingly share a hive mind, Irish immigrant Remmick plans to builds this family around an appropriation of Black culture, with Coogler introducing some not so thinly veiled symbolism regarding racism in the Deep South and the corrupting influence of hate. There to consume and exploit, the vampires view a highly vulnerable Sammie as their missing key due to his extraordinary musical talent. But before they can get to him, others are converted one-by-one with a single bite as they're hauled up inside fighting for their lives as seeds of mistrust are sown and alliances tested.

Jordan gives a powerhouse turn in his dual role as the intimidating, hotheaded Stack and a more contemplative Smoke, somehow managing to leave little doubt as to who we're watching in any given scene. And once the twins' seemingly unbreakable bond is broken, Jordan's performance shifts into another gear, enabling the actor to display his action chops. 

Newcomer Caton holds up his end of the deal as Sammie, tracking his journey from young, impressionable sharecropper to blues hero. Steinfeld also leaves an indelible mark as the white-passing Mary, who's pretty much beloved by everyone despite the messy unfinished business with Stack. Lindo, Mosaku, Lawson and Li are all equally exceptional in their varied roles, with each fully fleshed out and given a considerable amount of attention. And thanks to some astounding visuals and Oscar winner Luwig Göransson's blues and folk infused score, everything comes together in a way we quite haven't seen before.   

After the big showdown, there's no returning to yesterday, or even earlier that same afternoon. Once this band of mysterious intruders show up at their doorstep, the surviving characters' lives are permanently transformed and the real protagonist is forced to process it for the rest of his life. With that, Coogler sticks the landing in one of the few post-credit scenes to function not as a gimmicky device, but an unmissable coda the film couldn't exist without. It's a crucial reveal used to maximum effect, giving us a little more to contemplate and the urge to watch it all again through a different lens. 

Creed III

Director: Michael B. Jordan
Starring: Michael B. Jordan, Tessa Thompson, Jonathan Majors, Wood Harris, Thaddeus J. Mixon, Spence Moore II, Mila Davis-Kent, Florian Munteanu, Phylicia Rashad, José Benavidez Jr., Selenis Leyva, Anthony Bellew
Running Time: 116 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Now seemingly even further removed from its Rocky origins, Creed III contains something few films in either series had: a supervillain origin story. Making his directorial debut, star Michael B. Jordan asks the audience to consider what kind of movie we'd have if the 1977 original focused entirely on Apollo rather than Rocky, or maybe even if the fourth was instead titled "Drago." While both those memorable antagonists were far from afterthoughts, Stallone's underdog role always served as the driving narrative force. And that successful formula would be reinvented in this series with Apollo's son, Adonis Creed, who had to fight from the bottom up to prove himself. Two films in, he's done that, so it's as good a time as any to cut ties and try something new. 

A similar blueprint remains, but gone is Stallone (who's still credited as a producer) and Bill Conti's rousing "Gonna Fly Now" Rocky theme. Neither absence is surprising since they're not all that necessary in fleshing out a story with different stakes. A film anchored by Apollo's adversary should be a misalignment of priorities, if not for the fact that their backstories are so intertwined and far more complex than we're used to seeing in the franchise. This time the villain's the underdog, and for a while you understand where he's coming from, making his reemergence especially problematic for a hardly blameless Donnie. It's not just a matter of when we get to this ultimate confrontation between two former friends with a messy, violent past, but how.

It's 2002 Los Angeles when a young Adonis Creed sneaks out with his older best friend, amateur boxing prodigy and Golden Gloves champion Damian "Diamond Dame" Anderson to a match that Damian wins. But later, when Donnie attacks a man in a liquor store altercation and escapes while Dame's arrested, their lives take very different paths. We cut to the present, with Donnie (Jordan) retired from boxing, instead focusing on wife Bianca (Tessa Thompson), their hearing-impaired daughter Amara (Mila Davis-Kent) and his adopted mother Mary-Anne's (Phylicia Rashad) declining health. 

Donnie's promoting his boxing academy protégé Felix Chavez (José Benavidez Jr.) for an upcoming world title defense against Viktor Drago (Florian Munteanu) when he receives a shocking visit from Dame. Released from prison after twenty years, he's seeking help from his childhood friend in resuming his boxing career. After reluctantly agreeing to let Dame train at his gym, it soon becomes apparent his intentions aren't what they appear. Angry, jealous and believing Donnie's enjoying the life he should have, he's back for the title and respect, and won't hesitate running through anyone in his way to get it.

Seeing a retired Donnie in promoter mode is a reminder of just how far we've gotten in the series, as he seems content having passed the torch, thriving comfortably in his new role. What works best about this setup is how the events of the preceding films almost feel as if they occurred centuries ago because he's at such a different stage now. While far from old, his fighting days are behind him and he's settled into a new career as trainer, business owner and ambassador for the sport. If Donnie has any itch to get back in the ring, he's not showing it, which makes Dame's return more impactful, dredging up one of the most emotionally painful moments of his life. And for a story that was essentially cooked up on the fly and never previously acknowledged, it's compelling. 

Donnie knows the friend he loved as a brother spent most of his life in jail because of him, with Jordan subtly conveying this burden he's carried while rising to the top of the boxing world. It retroactively adds another dimension to our protagonist, perhaps partially explaining where all that drive and determination came from. Despite reaching the pinnacle, it's entirely possible he's always secretly seen himself as a fraud and not deserving enough. Dame knows he should be Donnie, and based on what we're shown, it's easy to believe he's right. 

If Dame got a raw deal, his monstrous actions soon cause our sympathies to waver, as he uses Donnie's guilt and generosity to his advantage, all while resisting the notion he's interested in taking any handouts. Dame knows exactly how to get to him and Majors takes us on a ride with his slow-burning turn, brilliantly playing both side of the fence before exposing the character as the dangerous threat he is. 

Simmering with rage and carrying giant chip on his shoulder, Dame knows the clock's running out, with Majors believably transferring the ex-con's most vicious traits to the ring. With moves that sometimes more closely resemble a street brawler than former boxer, there's an undeniable physical transformation, but not an entirely unrealistic one, as he climbs back to fighting form. Everything about this guy is scary, especially how he propels out of the corner at the start of each round, nearly dancing in the face of his prey before preparing to pounce. 

Reopening a painful chapter he thought was closed causes Donnie to completely shut down, straining his relationship with Bianca, who hadn't a clue about this part of his past. He's also in no hurry to tell her, even as his ailing mother Mary-Anne knows the history all too well, harboring strong opinions about what he should do. The big fight sneaks up on you in terms of how fast we get there, but all the groundwork's been laid, with Donnie realizing only one thing can settle this for good. 

Jordan makes some inspired directorial choices in the final match that lift it to another level, particularly a dreamlike sequence that visually hammers home just how personal this feud is. Even then, the film doesn't take the easy way out, reminding us this isn't a battle of good and evil. Mistakes were made, choices dictated their paths and a confluence of unpredictable events led them here. Regardless of its eventual outcome, the fight was always inevitable, as both men desperately need this to shed their pasts and move forward.

Some of the usual franchise tropes are still prevalent, but the core story and performances carry it through. Keenan Coogler and Zach Baylin's script skillfully create this antagonist from the ground up, but it's Major's charismatic work that makes him incomparable to any final boss since Apollo or Drago. Knowing the series inside out, Jordan invisibly takes the directing reins from Ryan Coogler with no noticeable dip in quality, nearly equaling the first film while surpassing its unspectacular 2018 sequel. You could even argue he does certain things better, building a relationship complicated enough that when it's time for the champ to put back on the gloves, we're all in.                            

Creed II

Director: Steven Caple Jr.
Starring: Michael B. Jordan, Sylvester Stallone, Tessa Thompson, Dolph Lundgren, Florian "Big Nasty" Munteanu, Phylicia Rashad, Wood Harris, Andre Ward, Brigitte Nielsen, Milo Ventimiglia, Russell Hornsby
Running Time: 130 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)
 
When Ryan Coogler's Creed was released in 2015, it was just the shot of adrenaline the ailing Rocky franchise needed, yielding results even better than anyone expected. Just the very idea to center the film around Apollo Creed's son and have him trained by his late father's friend and foe Rocky Balboa was inspired. Casting Michael B. Jordan as the lead opposite Sylvester Stallone was ingenious. It presented all these new, exciting possibilities, and more amazingly, followed through on them, erasing memories of the inferior sequels that brought shame and even occasional embarrassment to the series. More importantly, Creed didn't feel like a Rocky film, and yet in many ways when it mattered most, it did, reconnecting us to what we loved most about these movies and bringing a sense of renewed purpose to Stallone's role. His Best Supporting Actor Oscar nomination, and the deflated looks of disappointment we saw in that room when he lost, stands as proof.

The justifiable acclaim only solidified the inevitability of sequels, and with that would always come the risk that the franchise could settle back into its predictable rhythm. So when Coogler bowed out of this to make a little movie with Jordan called Black Panther, it seemed our worst suspicions that the series would host a revolving door of directors lacking a distinct vision, were about to be confirmed. But with the foundation already laid, Steven Caple Jr.'s Creed II successfully picks up where we left off, and while it does follow a familar formula and lacks some of the previous film's freshness and energy, it's a worthy successor.

In again drawing heavily from the Rocky legacy (this time Rocky IV) to jumpstart a new story, it's at least one worth telling, featuring a villainous return fans of the franchise can legitimately claim they've waited decades for. Despite good reason for concern moving forward, this one works because the personal nature of the story and a continued emphasis on the relationship between the main characters that's been carried over from the first entry.

Three years after his loss to "Pretty" Ricky Conlan, Adonis Creed (Jordan) has amassed enough victories to earn a shot at the WBC World Heavyweight Championship, which he wins from Danny "Stuntman" Wheeler. On top of the boxing world and a major star, Adonis proposes to girlfriend Bianca Taylor (Tessa Thompson) who agrees to marry him while suggesting they move out to the West Coast  to start their new lives together. Hesitant to leave his hometown of Philadelphia, as well his trainer and mentor Rocky Balboa (Stallone), Adonis has a ferocious new challenger looking for a shot in Viktor Drago (Florian "Big Nasty" Munteanu).

Viktor's been trained and groomed from an early age as a fighting machine by his father, Ivan Drago (Dolph Lundgren), who killed Adonis' dad, Apollo Creed, in the ring over thirty years earlier before being defeated by Rocky in Moscow. Disgraced by his home country in the years since that humiliating defeat, Ivan hopes that through Viktor he can earn some measure of redemption, and even possibly some respect from well-off ex-wife Ludmilla (Brigitte Nielsen). But Adonis' reasons for taking the fight is what worries Rocky, Bianca and his stepmother and Apollo's widow, Mary Anne (Phylicia Rashad). With the self-imposed pressure of  avenging his father's death, Adonis enters the ring with one thing in mind: revenge. And Viktor smells blood. 

It's probably not a good sign for the protagonist that the "big fight" around which the entire axis of this installment revolves occurs within the first 45 minutes of the picture. The build-up to it is quite impressive as the screenplay makes a legitimate case that Adonis could get killed in the ring just as his father did, only this time at the hands of the younger Drago. It also helps that there's an over thirty year backstory to draw from that comes from one of the more beloved entries in the series. If not neccessarily a great film, Rocky IV is nothing if not memorably entertaining due to the presence of a larger-than-life, almost cartoonish adversary in Ivan Drago, so it makes perfect sense to try to recapture that magic for the first Creed sequel.

As a character, Drago's son, like many of the opponents in adversaries in both franchises is kind of a wet blanket, but at least he's given a purpose through his father's quest for redemption. And similarly to how we were treated to a really compelling "where are they now?" in last year's Karate Kid sequel series, it's great to see Lundgren return to the role that made him. Playing Drago as a bitter, pitiable man living through his adult son, he's still somehow reeeling from the loss dealt to him by Rocky all these years later, and that feels just about right.  But as well developed as the villainous side of the equation is, the movie's bread is still buttered with the internal struggle of Adonis reconciling his father's death and finding out who he is the hard way.

It's not a spoiler to reveal his title defense against Viktor is a disaster that breaks him mentally and physically, challenging not only his will to continue boxing, but the important relationships in his life as well. While his bond with Bianca (Thompson, great again) faces some serious obstacles accompanied by euphoric highs, it's his friendship with Rocky that's most tested. He doesn't want his protege fighting this guy for glaringly obvious reasons, but an added element is that he doesn't believe Adonis' head is in the right place. It'll be up to both of them to get it there. Ironically enough, the movie soars highest when entering familar fomulaic territory, leaning into the franchise tenants of training montages and personal redemption. One advanatge the Creed films undoubtedly have over what came before it is the realism and authenticity of the boxing scenes, which are electrifyingly staged and suprisingly suspenseful, especially considering both fight outcomes in this aren't exactly in doubt.

Against all better judgment, we're hooked, mainly because the dynamic Michael B. Jordan has taken us on a journey with this character, infusing Adonis with a determination, anger and sensitivity that matches, if not surpasses, anything we've previously seen in the Rocky films. When his body and spirit are seemingly shattered, it's Stallone's character who continues to be properly positioned opposite him, playing on all the strengths he brought as a lead, but in a more appropriate supporting role that reminds us how formidable a presence he can be on screen. While not exactly surprises, brief but impactful appearances by Nielsen and Milo Ventimiglia as Rocky's estranged son Robert are seamlessly incorporated, the latter benefitting from being a bigger star now than when he appeared in the forgettable slog that was 2006's Rocky Balboa.

Making his feature directorial debut, Steven Caple Jr. deserves credit for not only avoiding to screw up a good thing, but doing right by these characters and the series, which now seems poised for yet another outing. But any Creed sequel, while completely expected, was still far from a guarantee to work. While no real risks are taken and Caple plays it as safe as possible within the confines of a very predictable formula, that was undeniably the right route to take here. If we get another film that shakes out identically to these first two, then we can start talking about the possibility of audiences tiring of it and re-experiencing the fatigue associated with the Rocky series. Until then it's best to enjoy the ride since Creed II has very little worth complaining about, delivering more than enough to please both casual and diehard fans alike.       

Creed

Director: Ryan Coogler
Starring: Michael B. Jordan, Sylvester Stallone, Tessa Thompson, Phylicia Rashad, Tony Bellew, Graham McTavish, Wood Harris, Andre Ward, Gabriel Rosado, Ritchie Coster
Running Time: 133 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

If it's true that everything starts with an idea, it helps to have a really good one and the ability to deliver on it. I'd imagine director/co-writer Ryan Coogler's pitch of a new Rocky film was initially met with a skeptical eye roll from both studio executives and maybe even a few of the actors he approached to be a part of it. And given the state of the franchise after some underwhelming sequels and a disappointing 2006 curtain call, it's hard to blame them. Despite not counting myself a huge fan of the original and among those frequently questioning its 1977 Best Picture victory in a highly competitive year, even I'd have trouble denying its cultural impact. It's one of the few Oscar winners still remembered and talked about to this day, regardless of the extent to which its sequels somewhat tarnished its legacy.

Anyone looking to recapture the feelings of goodwill that first film generated in so many you'd need a really strong narrative hook. With Creed, Coogler finds it. And in doing so he makes the ultimate Rocky movie and the one everyone's been waiting for without knowing they wanted it. In the most purely honest way possible, he tricks us into watching another entry by not making one. It isn't until the last scene that you realize what happened, and by the point, you're at too much of an emotional high to get hung up on it. By their very nature, sports movies follow a certain formula, but in the best ones there's this magic that takes place that transports audiences and makes them forget, even as the script and its characters sink deeply into it. Formulas do exist for a reason, but a good director, like a magician, never reveals his tricks. In Creed, all the wheels are turning but we're never consciously aware of the machinations.

Cleverly, the sequel/spin-off is jump-started with one question: What about Apollo Creed? We know Rocky's opponent, friend and mentor (played by Carl Weathers) died in the ring, but he left someone behind. A son from an extramarital affair named Adonis "Donnie" Johnson (Michael B. Jordan), who's been fighting and starting trouble since his days at a youth detention facility in the late 90's. It wasn't until Apollo's widow, Mary Anne (Phylicia Rashad) took him in that he started to have anything resembling a normal upbringing. Fifteen years later, he's on the fast track to a promotion at a Los Angeles-based financial firm, even as something eats away at him. He goes down to Tijuana on the weekends to box, demonstrating the burning desire to fight that's persisted since childhood.

After being rejected at his father's gym, he quits his job and heads to Philadelphia, landing at the doorstep of Adrian's restaurant and in front of the only man he knows can train him: His dad's opponent, friend and mentor, Rocky Balboa (Sylvester Stallone). Initially reluctant, Rocky agrees, but when word gets out that Donnie is Creed's son, the marketing potential of that teaming can't be ignored, so despite being nowhere near ready, Donnie must prepare for the fight of his life against the world lightweight champion, "Pretty" Ricky Conlon (Tony Bellew), an intimidating British brute preparing for a retirement bout before he heads to prison. And in doing this, Donnie must not only come to terms with taking on his late father's name, but do justice to his legacy even as he struggles with his own.

All this manages to work so well due to a series of creative decisions made by Coogler that are played to perfection, each piece of the puzzle organically falling into place to create a maximum entertainment experience from start to finish. It isn't much of a stretch to buy that Apollo Creed has an illegitimate son who felt abandoned, or that he'd harbor much of the rage his father did, not to mention many of his fighting skills. And it's even less of one to believe that the emotionally beat down Rocky we see here (an incarnation that's a far cry from any previous outing) wouldn't want to be near the ring again in any capacity, either as a cornerman or trainer because of what it dredges up. But we also know that he can't resist and as much as the underdog story parallels that of the original, it's surprising just how different it feels in both tone and execution, shot and edited to more closely resemble something grittier, like Southpaw or The Fighter. And Ludwig Göransson's soundtrack effectively pays tribute to pieces of Bill Conti's original score without attempting to slavishly mimic or overuse it.

There's an urgency here that went missing through most of the sequels and a familiarity in also acknowledging their purposeful existence in getting the characters to this point, most of whom we're meeting for the first time. The result feels new and fresh, releasing the franchise of the baggage and stigma that's weighed it down over the past couple of decades. This is the mentor role Stallone should have probably played already, but feels strangely even more appropriate now because he's at the stage of his life and career where he's caught up to us, and feels ready. In a way, it's similar to Mickey Rourke's role in The Wrestler in how it works on this meta level that almost makes it impossible to separate the role from what we know about the actor playing it. He's not at all "playing himself" but rather using his and the character's rich history to create this whole other layer from which he draws from to create this deep performance, his strongest and quietest dramatic turn since Copland.

When a development occurs that turns Rocky's world inside-out it should feel manipulative, but doesn't because Coogler and co-writer Aaron Covington understand that this is the natural progression for a lonely guy who's world really ended when Adrian died. Much like the series itself, he was just going through the motions. Training Donnie briefly alleviates that and Stallone's scenes opposite the perfectly cast Jordan are magnificent, recalling not only the best training sequences from the Rocky films, but some of the more memorable mentoring relationships captured on film, like that in The Karate Kid.

Previously working with Coogler when he played shooting victim Oscar Grant in 2013's Fruitvale Station, Jordan gave a superb performance in service of a film that didn't completely return the favor. With it came the responsibility of playing a real-life figure whose death ignited a firestorm of controversy. Here, he's shouldering a different kind of responsibility, and as the centerpiece and driving force behind an iconic franchise, he's the new Rocky. Or more accurately, the first Adonis Creed, with Jordan drawing on his own physical preparation for the role and natural charisma and intensity. He leaves little doubt Adonis is very much his father's son, and it's only when he comes around to fully accepting that, will he be able to step out from behind his shadow.

But his trajectory does seem to mirror Rocky's more than his dad's with not only his untrained underdog status as a fighter, but burgeoning relationship with Bianca (Tessa Thompson), a hearing impaired musician in his building whom he starts to date. Even this is handled exceptionally well, as intrinsically weaved into the plot as Rocky's romance with Adrian. It helps that the completely engaging and likable Thompson shines in every scene she's given, sharing excellent chemistry with her co-star. It's kind of one of those happy surprises that this turns out as well as it does, while also managing to be subtly touching at times, never forcing the issue. Just two great actors doing their thing.

For the first time in a while it feels like we're building to a fight worthy of the hype it's gotten through faux HBO video packages cleverly interspersed into the film, raising the stakes much higher than they've been in the franchise's recent history. Creed's opponent is a monster who carries himself like a serial killer and has about ten times the experience, practically mirroring Balboa's predicament in the original. With an outcome that's legitimately in doubt, the final fight is masterfully filmed and edited, giving us room to breathe and take in the action, showing just how far the staging of these sequences have come since the worst of the previous installments. Everything about this carries a "big fight" feel, and the result is the right one, despite my worries of its implications for the franchise moving forward.

As much as I care what happens to these characters, I'm still hesitant in wanting more. While I loved what we got, and maybe even prefer it to the original in many ways, part of me wishes they'd stop here before it's too late. We all know that won't happen as long as there's money to be made, but the last thing we need is a succession of inferior sequels made by rotating directors that devalue the achievement of Coogler and his talented cast. But who knows? Maybe it's possible to craft a worthy Creed follow-up if everyone's on the same page. But it'll be tough to top the rush you get here when the Rocky theme swells up at just the right moment, knowing it's being played again in a movie that's truly earned it.

The Spectacular Now, Fruitvale Station

The Spectactular Now  
Director: James Ponsoldt 
Starring: Miles Teller, Shailene Woodley, Brie Larson, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Kyle Chandler
Running Time: 95 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

High school coming-of-age movies have fallen a considerable height from the glory days of John Hughes, where teens were treated as three-dimensional people viewers of any age could root for and care about. A brief description of The Spectacular Now would easily fool anyone into thinking it's joining the recent scrap pile. Bad boy meets good girl and she has to redeem him. But director James Ponsoldt and (500) Days of Summer screenwriters Scott Neustadter and Michael H. Weber flip that premise on its head, delivering a smart, sensitive drama that doesn't pander to its audience, while insightfully observing real life problems without a hint of manipulation or contrivance. Each decision feels carefully considered, with so much resting on the standout performances of the two leads, who are given the opportunity to play flawed, likable characters we want to see happy, independent of whether they end up together or not.

Miles Teller plays popular, but unambitious high school senior Sutter Keely, whose daily life consists of an endless stream of drinking and partying, with little thought given to his future. In a rare touch for the genre, Sutter's vices don't look fun in the least, depicted instead as a serious addiction that's taking over. He's basically a teenage alcoholic. His equally popular girlfriend (Brie Larson) dumps him and it's gotten to the point that even his mother (Jennifer Jason Leigh) can't put up with it anymore.

After a late-night partying binge he wakes up on the lawn of classmate Aimee Finnicky (Shailene Woodley), a pretty but socially invisible "girl next door" who reads manga and has a paper route. They start seeing each other. Sort of. That their relationship can't easily be classified because of how different they are is one of the film's biggest strengths and what follows is complicated, but in an authentic, messy kind of way.

Upon Sutter realizing he's actually falling hard for this girl, his thoughts shift to him not being deserving of her and there's this intriguing mystery that develops involving Sutter's long-absent dad (a brilliant Kyle Chandler). It's a supporting performance perfectly calibrated to subvert and challenge expectations of not only the character and story, but the actor playing him. Even seemingly minor players like Sutter's boss, Dan (Bob Odenkirk) are so richly drawn in their brief appearances you'd imagine a film focusing on them would be just as rewarding. As Sutter's older sister Holly, Mary Elizabeth Winstead conveys that there's even more to her than originally thought, the character's snobby demeanor merely a defense mechanism masking the emotional pain of their upbringing.    

Ponsoldt knows not to try too hard and at a turning point where everything could have flown off the rails, he resists the temptation, choosing even more honesty. That this takes place in unnamed "Smalltown, U.S.A" in an unidentifiable era brings a universality to the story, allowing it to exist in a timeless vaccum. No one will be laughing at the music and clothes years down the line, as is usually the case with most other high school movies. What will be remembered is how Teller and Woodley take familiar character types and make them feel completely fresh, him with offbeat goofy charm and her with a realness and authenticity that never come off as "acting." And just watch what she does in that killer final scene. She's too good to be toiling away in YA franchises, even if this was ironically adapted from a young adult novel. Let's just pretend the giant check she's cashing for Divergent is really for this.

Fruitvale Station
Director: Ryan Coogler
Starring: Michael B. Jordan, Melonie Diaz, Octavia Spencer
Running Time: 85 min.
Rating: R

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Despite certain misgivings I have about about the film itself, none of them affect my feelings about Michael B. Jordan's performance as Oscar Grant, the young man shot and killed by a Bay Area Rapid Transit police at Oakland's Fruitvale Station on New Year's 2009. If anything, I wish that first-time writer/director Ryan Coogler's effort had the subtly and nuance of Jordan's performance, which sets a high bar the picture can't quite reach. There's little doubt that Oscar Grant was far from perfect. He was only human. And there's also little doubt what happened on that train platform was an avoidable tragedy with more than enough blame to go around, along with some unfortunate coincidences and bad luck. To say the transit cops handled the situation poorly would be a gross understatement, but it's hard not to feel Coogler's trying to unnecessarily stack the deck. The facts tell the story, yet he insists on going beyond that, to the point that by the film's finish it almost feels like we've gotten a public service announcement.

The film follows the last day of the 22-year-old Californian's life before being fatally shot on that train platform, circumventing the rocky relationship he has with his girlfriend and the mother of their infant daughter, Sophina (Melonie Diaz, really strong), and his own mother, Wanda (Octavia Spencer). It paints a picture of an ex-con trying to do right and get on the straight and narrow for his family. For all we know much of it may have gone down as depicted. But certain details feel too convenient, with Coogler going so far out of his way to avoid portraying his subject as a saint that he ends up doing exactly that.

There's an early scene in which Oscar tries to save a dying dog hit by a car. Besides the incident being drenched in heavy-handed symbolism and blatant foreshadowing, I could have done without animal cruelty (real or simulated) to show us Oscar's a good guy. And just to level things out we also get a scene where he threatens his boss. No one thinks this young man "deserved" what eventually happens so it's perplexing that we're being lectured on his morality with contrived situations. Maybe they happened. Maybe not. But it rings false in the context of this film.

It's when we finally get to that train platform that things start to feel real. How the situation escalates to the point it does is so fascinating and disturbing that you almost wish the whole movie was this incident in real time, if it wasn't so difficult to watch. Coogler's clearly a skilled director, making excellent use of shaky cam to give us a found footage feel and show various points of view from different witnesses. Certain details from earlier pay off in surprising ways, creating a storm of events that tragically converge at the station. The last half hour earns its emotional response by doing away with the editorializing and grandstanding and just showing what happened .

Anyone who's seen Friday Night Lights knows how great an actor Michael B. Jordan is and so much of that natural charisma and quiet intensity is on display here. We care about Oscar because of his performance, one that too often must battle to overcome the script's flaws. It's a problem when a film is based on true events and you can't believe much of what happened even it it's completely true. The last shot reveals the film's true intentions. And that's the roadblock when tackling a controversial real life issue. Judgments and intentions are best checked at the door.

Chronicle

Director: Josh Trank
Starring: Dane DeHaan, Michael B. Jordan, Alex Russell, Michael Kelly, Ashley Hinshaw, Anna Wood, Bo Peterson
Running Time: 83 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Coming out of nowhere, Chronicle uses its high-concept premise as a playground to push past its genre boundaries to become something entirely original and exciting. It's such a surprise and so cleverly conceived that it's perplexing audiences didn't come out to see it in droves, despite it doing fairly well at the box office. Why they didn't probably has something to do with its lack of marketing and the fact it combines two heavily played out genres: superhero and found footage films. I hesitate even mentioning that because it feels more like a John Hughes movie in how it crafts an intelligent, mature story about teenagers that can be appreciated by all ages. A title card reading "Presented By Steven Spielberg" wouldn't look out of place if this were the 80's. After watching is it plainly clear what "bigger" movies like Super 8 and Hancock were trying to do, but couldn't fully accomplish. Here, the camera really is a character and through it we're taken on a wild ride that would be tough to replicate using just any other technique. And in doing so, first-time director Josh Trank and screenwriter Max Landis should be congratulated for submitting one of the top films of the half-year and perfectly weaving all its elements with an emotional, Columbine-style allegory. It dares to ask what a modern day Holden Caufield would be like if he suddenly possessed superpowers. As you might have guessed, the answer isn't pretty.  

Seattle high school senior Andrew Detmer (Dane DeHaan) has a mother (Bo Petersen) dying of cancer and a drunk father (Michael Kelly) who's verbally and physically abusive. A social outcast at school who's constantly bullied by his peers and somewhat ignored by his own cousin Matt (Alex Russell), Andrew's only friend seems to be a handheld camcorder, which he starts carrying around to chronicle his life. When Matt drags him to a rave in hopes of helping him meet people they encounter popular student Steve Montgomery (Michael B. Jordan) who persuades them to record a strange occurrence in the woods. They enter a giant, mysterious hole in the ground emitting a loud noise and containing a giant, glowing crystalline object. Fast forward a couple of weeks later and they possess a wide array of telekinetic powers that begin to escalate, becoming more refined as they experiment in their backyards and beyond. Pretty soon they're using the powers in public for practical jokes and seemingly harmless mayhem, but with no established rules for its use, Andrew's darker side comes out, threatening their friendship and everyone's lives.

The scenes where they first discover their powers are about as entertaining and funny as could be hoped for in a superhero movie, if only this were just any superhero movie. Testing out their telekinesis on unsuspecting customers in a supermarket is hilarious not only because of their actions, but because the sequences perfectly capture the kind of joy and excitement you'd expect high seniors to have if they possessed such abilities. Not often is the word "realism" thrown around when discussing movies in this genre, but it's applicable here because Landis' screenplay is so dedicated to playing by the rules of the situation it creates and letting us care about them. We've seen plenty of found footage films through the years with many recently using the camera as a distracting gimmick, but here's an instance where its presence seems to serve a narrative function.  That's especially evident when the three friends discover their ability to fly, resulting in a scene that's breathtaking in scope. It feels like we're up there with them, sharing in the revelation. As the film wears on and the action picks up, Trank's direction is so clever in how he still manages to incorporate the single camera perspective, whether he's switching out the characters who appear to be doing the filming, shifting to a security camera or, in many cases, having them appear to record the action from their state of levitation. In a good move, it seems like this was shot at like a higher quality than we're used to getting with these types of movies, with camera work that's sharper and not as nauseatingly shaky as you'd expect.

With these thrilling elements taking hold, it was only matter of time before things start to go dark, with the angry, tormented Andrew suddenly gaining popularity he can't seem to process and doubting the loyalty of the his only two friends. Only then, does it come into full view what this is really about, and how it used a superhero origin story as vehicle to get there. It's impossible to consider it all working as well without the three leads, who share a chemistry together onscreen so authentic that when their friendship begins to dissolve it really does seem tragic. Much of that is due to Dane DeHaan's frightening, but sympathetic portrayal, which is sure to be looked back on in a few years as marking the arrival of a major talent.

Resembling a younger, geekier looking Leonardo DiCaprio, DeHaan captures the burden of every outcast adolescent who thought they'd never survive high school. When Andrew snaps, his eyes go dead and it's impossible no to think of stories and descriptions of loner teens we hear about on the news. As Sam, former Fright Night Lights' star  Michael B. Jordan brings intelligence and dimension to Steve, making him more than just your stereotypical popular jock and demonstrating all of the charisma he displayed on TV has been translated full force to the big screen. The final piece of the equation is Alex Russell, whose performance is Matt is interesting in how he suggests the possibility of a whole backstory to the character we don't get to see, as he struggles to come to grips with where he fits in. It's most obvious in his relationship with would-be girlfriend Casey (a delightful Ashley Hinshaw), who's video blog provides the film an opportunity to add yet another camera to the mix. As far as romantic sub-plots go, this couldn't have been handled any better or with more subtlety.

Working on a relatively meager sized budget, Trank crafts a jaw-dropping final finale in downtown Seattle that looks and feels positively epic in scope, putting most big budget action blockbusters to shame. It also helps that we actually care about those involved in it and the result. Less a movie watching experience than an amusement park ride, the handheld camera replicates how insane it would be to see something like this happening on the streets. I've gone back and forth on how the movie likely would have played without this found footage technique, or whether it was completely necessary to tell the story, but the bottom line is it works and that's all that counts. It also trusts the intelligence of its audience to figure things out and fill in the blanks on details, since at just under an hour and a half, not a minute of screen time is squandered. Supposedly there's talk of a sequel, but that seems pointless, especially given how concrete an ending this has. The closing scene is especially perfect. Chronicle does a better job capturing high school than most dramas and documentaries do, and more traditional superhero movies released this year could have a tough time following it.

Friday Night Lights: The Fifth and Final Season

Producers: Peter Berg, Brian Grazer, Jason Katims
Starring: Kyle Chandler, Connie Britton, Michael B. Jordan, Matt Lauria, Aimee Teegarden, Jurnee Smollett, Madison Burge, Grey Damon Taylor Kitsch, Zach Gilford, Adrianne Palicki,
Original Airdate: 2010

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)
 
Let's just go ahead and add Friday Night Lights to the list of shows that should have been one of TV's most watched, but for whatever reason, wasn't. Praised to high heaven by critics but ignored by audiences, the big question remains "Why?" It's easy to blame NBC, who dropped the ball with their constant schedule shuffling and lack of promotion, but you could also argue the network saved its life when they struck a deal with DirectTV extending its run for three more seasons, which is three more than anyone thought it would get. FNL may have never amassed the rabid cult following of other ratings-challenged shows that got the axe, but this lasted longer, and those who watched all five seasons still feel like part of an exclusive club. Whether you chalk it up to it being "too real" or not sensationalistic enough (its two best attributes in my mind), the show didn't catch fire nationally like it should have. But it's very difficult to care when you look back at the finished product over five years and consider the creative high it's departing on. And in achieving what no other drama in television's history can by not just surviving, but somehow thriving when most of the cast departed, there's nothing at all for fans to be disappointed about here. In keeping with that trend of final seasons never representing any series' creative pinnacle, season 5 definitely isn't its best, but it sure is great, cementing its status as being head and shoulders above any recent drama on TV.

Coach gives the team a pep talk before State

The series' fourth (and best) season saw a major upheaval for Eric Taylor (Kyle Chandler), after being replaced as the head football coach of the Dillon Panthers and initially struggling in his new position as coach of the East Dillon High Lions, the school where his wife Tami (Connie Britton) works as guidance counselor. The show's writers have had to literally rebuild the series from the ground up after losing some major players, both on and off the field. Gone over the past two seasons were Minka Kelly's former Panther cheerleader Lyla Garrity, Adrianne Palicki's bad girl Tyra Collette, Scott Porter's paralyzed Jason Street, Zach Gilford's star QB Matt Saracen, Jesse Plemons' geeky Landry Clarke and Taylor Kitsch's troubled ex-Panther running back Tim Riggins. While the last three stuck around for much of the fourth season before departing as series regulars, these blows were enormous and would have killed any other show outright. Instead, the writers were brilliant in how they maneuvered around it using the big three characters that were left last season to gradually get us to warm up to the new faces who would now be carrying the show, and succeeding. Before long, I'd forgotten that almost the entire cast was gone. Turning the tables and repositioning the Dillon Panthers (who we'd been conditioned to cheer since the pilot) as the spoiled, dominant villains in a rivalry against Coach Taylor's poor, underdog Lions from East Dillon breathed new life into the series and gave every character (with the exception of Brad Leland's underutilized Buddy Garrity) a fresh purpose and direction.

Lions booster Buddy Garrity has a heart-to-heart with troubled son Buddy, Jr.

As the star Lions QB Vince Howard, Michael B. Jordan has been a revelation but this season sees an already troubled home life with his recovering addict mother, Regina (Angela Rawna) complicated by the return of an important figure from his past. With his ego swelling to gigantic proportions, Vince must also adjust to his off again, on again girlfriend Jess Merriweather (Jurnee Smollett) taking a job as the team's equipment manager, while farm boy teammate Luke Cafferty's (Matt Lauria) somewhat controversial relationship with Becky Sproles (Madison Burge) moves to the next level despite her shocking abortion last season. The relatively new cast have no problems carrying a full season on their own for the first time without the help of any of the originals and any problems are relegated to the first half of the season and have little to do with them. Half-hearted attempts to add more new supporting characters to an already seamless cast results in failure as there just isn't enough room to define them. The arrival of Buddy Garrity's son, Buddy, Jr. (Jeff Rosick) is a bust since he spends the whole season on the sidelines doing nothing, while a new addition to the Lions' squad, former basketball player Hastings Ruckle (Grey Damon), is forgotten about as quickly as he's introduced. Tami's sub-plot involving her attempts to rescue a troubled student named Epyck (Emily Rios) feels more like an after-school special than a development befitting one of TV's most restrained dramas. 

Julie Taylor reunites with Matt Saracen in Chicago.

The season's worst storyline revolves around Julie Taylor (Aimee Teegarden), the weakest character on the series who's always been borderline intolerable whenever separated from soulmate Matt Saracen. Topping previous hall of shame Julie moments like drunkenly coming on to Tim Riggins in season 1 or hooking up with the "Swede" in season 2, the writers take it to a whole new level of embarrassment this time as we actually follow Julie to college, where she has an affair with a sleaze bag teaching assistant. Tonally inconsistent enough to conjure up bad memories of Landry the murderer from season 2, FNL was always so strong because it avoided over-the-top, teen soap histrionics in favor of subtle, more realistic storytelling. I understand the need to get Julie back to Dillon and reunited with Matt but the same thing could have been accomplished without us having to follow Julie to college, watch her struggle to fit in on campus, then endure a cringe-worthy spectacle that has nothing to do with the show, even if it was only for a few episodes. Then again, if they did that, I wouldn't have anything to complain about, and whining at length about this silly storyline is probably more fun than I'd want to admit. Luckily, Julie is mostly redeemed in the second half of the season when she does reunite with the returning Matt twice. And therein lies the conundrum with Julie Taylor. Teegarden's always been handed the worst material on the show so it's nearly impossible to judge her worth as an actress, yet whatever craptastic storyline gets thrown the character's way, you still can't bring yourself to actively dislike her. A big part of that just might be she's Coach Taylor and Tami's daughter, and since they're the heart and soul of the show, we view her as we would an annoying little sister, at times empathizing with her growing pains. So in a strange way, there is some real truth in the character.

Vince's recently paroled father, Ornette plots his son's future.

The possibility that Coach Taylor could leave Dillon, Texas at some point has always loomed large so it's fitting that this final season presents the biggest chance yet of that happening as he fields offers from interested universities, while deeply considering what such a move would mean for not only for him, but his marriage, family and players. This is juxtaposed against Vince dealing with the return of his recently paroled father, Ornette, played by Cress Williams in a season-stealing guest performance that invokes fright and uncomfortable laughter. An unpredictable loose cannon who helps Vince violate every college recruitment regulation in the book, the character is presented with the subtlety of a sledge hammer but in this case it's completely called for since the storyline itself is so gripping, bringing Vince's inner demons to the surface and tearing his relationship with Coach apart. You're on edge waiting to see what this delusional, but oddly well-intentioned nut job will do next, knowing it can't possibly end well. It's a testament to Williams' work as this villain we love to hate that there's more to Ornette than just his scary side and at times you see shades of the cool dad Vince wants to view him as and please. Vince's worst enemy has always been his past so this was the perfect way to go with him as he has to finally stand up and be the man his father couldn't. Even by the finale, it's clear that battle will be ongoing.

A depressed Tim Riggins is comforted by the returning Tyra.

The final hours rank among the series' best as the writers go all out bringing back  Saracen, Saracen's Grandma, Landry, Tyra, Jason Street and the recently incarcerated Tim Riggins who took the fall for his brother Billy's (Derek Phillips) chop shop last season and now emerges from prison a sad, depressed shell of his former self. That storyline really hogs the spotlight for the last couple of episodes and it's really tough to argue with that decision since the final episodes represent the best acting work Taylor Kitsch has done since the series' inception and the issues with his brother and sister-in-law Mindy (Stacey Oristano), is given the closure we've been hoping for. Sad and defeated in a way he he's never been before, his readjustment the daily life is almost tortuous to watch until you realize he's finally hit rock bottom and emerged with a new outlook and set of morals, obvious when Tim is the only sane person who sees a problem with a 17-year-old girl working as a waitress at a strip club. One of my favorite surprises of the season was the blustery, boisterous Buddy Garrity embroiled again in the town's football politics as he returns to his pushy, annoying Panther roots. Given how vital Brad Leland's work was to the show's success in the first three seasons, it was great to see him back in the forefront for the home stretch.

The Taylors contemplate the decision of their lives.

The show's biggest strengths during its run has always been how the football action on the field helps tell the story of what's happening off it and the amazing music choices, whether it's a slow-burning southern rock anthem after the team's win or lose or the perfect indie song played at just the right time to make a potentially sappy moment (like Matt and Julie in Chicago) connect on the right level. At the end there is a "big game" but for a change it's outcome has never been less relevant. It's all about Coach Taylor and Tami as it's always been and the writers deserve credit for knowing that's where it should leave off. Kyle Chandler and Connie Britton have given us one of the most honest depictions of marriage on television in years. That the decision Coach Taylor makes in the final minutes actually comes as a surprise and feels earned is all due to the Emmy-worthy Chandler, who's been the glue holding this show together for five years, playing the part with an unsentimental blend of toughness and compassion.  

"Clear Eyes, Full hearts, Can't Lose."

Despite giving us as good a closer as it gets, there are still rumors of a movie, as there always seems to be when any critically hailed series with a following leaves the air. But unlike other promised movies based on canceled shows, I'm betting this is the one that'll actually happen since it makes sense. For one, it was already based on a successful novel and feature film directed by series creator Peter Berg. And though Berg's creative output as a feature director has been spotty at best (Hancock, anyone?), there's still no denying his movies made money and he's had success outside of the show. Add to that the fact that many of actors' stocks have risen considerably since leaving the series and the idea starts to make even more sense. Of course, this still isn't a guarantee it needs to happen but I'd give this a much better chance at succeeding than most. For a show that's always seemed like a feature length film each week, it just might work.

Crafting a fully satisfying final season has to be the most difficult challenge any screenwriter or showrunner could possibly face and if you don't believe me you can just ask the Lost creators. Delivering a truly great series finale is even harder. It's near impossible to tie up every loose end, give closure to each character past and present, close the door (but leave it slightly ajar "just in case") and send all the fans home happy. So difficult is it I almost feel funny criticizing anything that goes wrong, since it's a given whatever occurs on screen won't match expectations. A couple of storylines don't work, but what does work is superb and even its minor flaws are kind of absorbing too. Whatever debate lingers about the quality of the season as a whole is tempered by the final 43 minutes, which are unarguably perfect, putting the focus exactly where it needs as the show signs off for good. Series finales are rarely ever as strong or as emotional as this. Coach Taylor's motivational catchphrase over the past five years may have been "clear eyes, full hearts, can't lose" but it's unlikely any loyal fans watching the final few episodes of one of television's best written and acted series will have clear eyes at the end.