Smile

Director: Parker Finn
Starring: Sosie Bacon, Jessie T. Usher, Kyle Gallner, Robin Weigert, Caitlin Stasey, Kal Penn, Rob Morgan, Judy Reyes, Gillian Zinser
Running Time: 115 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Playing fairly within the rules of its own horror universe, writer/director Parker Finn's debut feature, Smile, won't be accused of trailblazing originality, but it knows what it is and avoids insulting the audience's intelligence by aiming higher than it should. Recalling efficiently made 90's thrillers, it's moody, atmospheric and carefully paces out the steps of what's actually a pretty tight plot despite some occasional absurdity. In adapting his own 2020 short film, Laura Hasn't Slept, Finn takes a familiar concept in the genre and does right by it, stringing us along just enough to generate curiosity in the resolution without overstaying its welcome. 

Working with a premise not entirely different from that tackled in It Follows, The Ring and the Final Destination series, this manages to do enough in distinguishing itself that we're not distracted by those obvious similarities. Part of why is a lead performance that carries the story in every way, absorbing its baggage and emotionally grounding it with an authenticity that sometimes exceeds the film's quality. And while focusing on an already fragile character brought to the brink of insanity by something she can't understand or control, it's a credit to Finn's script that those around her react how you'd imagine they would under those circumstances. It's all neatly mapped out, leaving little room for surprises, but nonetheless following a reasonable trajectory to the somewhat predictable, though entirely satisfying conclusion.

Stressed out and overworked, psychiatrist Dr. Rose Cotter (Sosie Bacon) meets with a troubled patient, PhD student, Laura Weaver (Caitlin Stasey) who, traumatized by watching the suicide of her art history professor days earlier, screams to Rose about being stalked by smiling people telling her she's going to die. After grinning uncontrollably, Laura slits her own throat and commits suicide during the session.  Horrified by what she witnessed, Rose's behavior at work becomes increasingly erratic, forcing her concerned boss, Dr. Morgan Desai (Kal Penn) to become involved.

With Rose's hallucinations and wildly unhinged episodes worsening, fiancé Trevor (Jessie T. Usher) and sister Holly (Gillian Zinser) are seriously worried while Rose's former therapist, Dr. Northcott (Robin Weigert) attempts to draw a line back to the death of her mentally ill mother.  Soon, it's clear something far more sinister is happening, as she's seemingly afflicted with the same supernatural parasite that plagued Laura and those before her. Leaning on ex-boyfriend and police detective Joel (Kyle Gallner) for help, Rose needs answers and must prove to her family and friends she isn't crazy to avoid suffering the same fate as Laura. But with her days seemingly numbered, she's discovering just how hard it is to escape your own mind.   

One of the simpler, smarter aspects to the screenplay is that those who know Rose justifiably believe she's having a mental breakdown, as there's no reason to assume otherwise given her behavior. In this sense, much of the film's tension comes from Rose's fight to prove it isn't "all in her head," even while acting out and exhibiting psychotic tendencies. Initially, those closest express all the concern you'd expect, at least until it gets so bad that their worries become entangled in judgment and assumptions, with Rose hearing similar doubts from them that she expressed to Laura before the suicide. It doesn't take long for Rose to realize this is all going down the exact same road, as her visions of grinning, cackling people increase in frequency and intensity. 

Given Rose's already strained relationship with her older sister dating back to childhood, she's not much help, nor is fiancé Trevor, who tries to pass her off to the therapist. Since everyone's on the sidelines ogling in horror as she loses her mind, the film's heavy lifting falls on Sosie Bacon, who definitely doesn't disappoint in her first starring role. With a strong presence that may remind some of a younger Hilary Swank, she elevates what should be ridiculous jump scare scenes into deeper psychological territory as a woman victimized by both her own past and and this unknown curse. 

While essentially a plot function, Gallner's cop Joel is at least noteworthy compared to the rest, tuned in enough see the evidence for what it is and help her follow the trail backwards. The film milks a considerable amount of suspense from the metaphorical clock rapidly running down on Rose's life, and the more she fights, tries to solve the mystery, or even attempts to run, the closer she hurls toward the climactic showdown between her and this inexplicable demon force.  

It's tempting to label Smile as gimmicky or derivative, but it pulls off its tricks more skillfully than most, aided in no small part by Bacon's affecting turn. And Finn actually picks the right time to cut bait and get out, emblematic of the tricky line this manages to toe throughout, successfully juxtaposing the protagonist's mental trauma against some of the more visceral supernatural elements. This could have easily been laughable, but it holds steady, building tension and delivering an uncomfortably creepy trip that gives us some genuinely unsettling imagery and an emerging acting talent to keep a closer eye on.      

Don't Look Up

Director: Adam McKay
Starring: Leonardo DiCaprio, Jennifer Lawrence, Rob Morgan, Cate Blanchett, Meryl Streep, Jonah Hill, Mark Rylance, Tyler Perry, Timothée Chalamet, Ron Perlman, Ariana Grande, Scott Mescudi, Himesh Patel, Melanie Lynskey, Michael Chiklis
Running Time: 138 min.  
Rating: R 

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

The loudest conversations surrounding Adam McKay's sci-fi satire, Don't Look Up, might center on the likelihood of an event as cataclysmic as what's threatened in the film actually occurring. But that depends on what you consider the real tragedy. A comet potentially wiping out the planet or the hilariously awful ineptitude in which that information's handled by the supposedly smartest, most capable in our society, entrusted to make decisions for humanity's well-being. Could any of this happen? The quickest answer is that it just did, only not with a comet, and this is what gives McKay's film so much power, lifting it from social commentary into something far more scathing and relevant. But that's only half the story, as it takes aim some of the biggest, timeliest targets imaginable, rarely missing.

Having already directed the polarizing The Big Short and Vice, McKay's no stranger to walking a tightrope that sometimes frustrates as many viewers as it delights, but this is operating on a much higher plane. What's most surprising about is how he manages to repeatedly hit these impossible marks, bringing the laughs for almost two and a half hours straight. You sit there expecting it to completely run out of steam because it's just so broad and of the moment, but the truth just keeps funneling through, exposing self-interested government and society that have no idea how pathetically clueless they are. Not that they'd care anyway.  

Whatever divisive reactions exist to the the film itself, it's much harder to claim Leonardo DiCaprio, Jennifer Lawrence or even Meryl Streep have ever tackled the kinds of parts they're given here. It feels like a real first, witnessing performers of their caliber strongly playing against preconceptions to juggle some really difficult material they likely jumped at the chance of challenging themselves with. Uncomfortably hilarious, it holds a harsh, revealing mirror up to a society many will recognize as pitifully identical to the one we've been living in for the past couple of years, if not far longer.

When Michigan State University astronomy doctoral candidate Kate Dibiasky (Lawrence) discovers a previously unseen comet hurling toward Earth, her mentor and professor, Dr. Randall Mindy (DiCaprio) comes to the frightening calculation that it'll hit in six months, resulting in an "extinction level event." Joined by NASA's Planetary Defense Coordination head, Dr. Dr. Teddy Oglethorpe (Rob Morgan), they're summoned to the White House to present this information to disinterested President Janie Orlean (Streep) and her obnoxious son and Chief of Staff, Jason (Jonah Hill). With midterm elections on the horizon and a scandal involving a Supreme Court Justice nominee breaking, Orlean selfishly advises them to just sit on it to avoid more bad press.

Shaken by the President's apathy, Kate and Randall leak the news to the media at Oglethorpe's urging,  soon discovering that the public may also not be as receptive to this information as they thought. But with Orlean's popularity dipping amidst further scandal, she realizes her team may be able to use this impending catastrophe and the scientists to her political advantage. With the help of billionaire tech CEO and key donor Peter Isherwell (Mark Rylance), Orlean's plan for handing the comet crisis is put into motion, dividing the nation and sowing unneeded doubt about its very real danger. It'll be up to Kate and Randall to convince the public what's really happening, but it might be too late, as the rapidly approaching comet remains on course to take out human civilization. 

From the very start, there's an anti-science sentiment Kate and Randall have to battle that quickly chips away at everything they knew about themselves and how the government, media and public view their work and competency. Or more accurately, people just don't like bad news and will come up with any excuse not to receive it. Undermined and humiliated from the moment of discovery, they're  now in over their heads, sucked into a machine intended to dismantle and destroy them for stating facts. While it appears one of them is more capable of handing this, even that doesn't end up being true, with the situation understandably rattling them both to their core in very different ways. 

The astronomers have unknowingly entered an arena where Earth's impending demise is laughed off and mocked by fluff morning TV hosts Brie Evantee and Jack Bremmer (Cate Blanchett and Tyler Perry), whose phony banter, goofy jokes and insistence on "keeping things light" result in some of the film's funniest, but most depressingly realistic moments. Blanchett and Perry are so good in these scenes, perfectly capturing the kind of annoying, celebrity and social media obsessed camera hogs flooding the air on every major "news" outlet. With hosts far more interested in music star Riley Bina's (Ariana Grande) recent breakup with DJ Chello (Scott Mescudi) than a comet wiping out Earth, the scientists start realizing the level of stupidity they're up against, which extends far beyond just the political spectrum.     

The journey DiCaprio takes Randall on is really something, as this seemingly nerdy, Xanax popping, numbers-obsessed scientist has to find his media sea legs after being thrust into the spotlight. A simple man enjoying a comfortable, if pleasantly mundane life back home with his devoted wife June (Melanie Lynskey) and grown kids, he's suddenly a huge celebrity pressured into telling everyone what they want to hear. And as those drawbacks and rewards push back against his principles, he'll have to make some tough moral choices. As a weakened Randall teeters on the verge of implosion, DiCaprio has what might be his best scene out of many, completely snapping as he channels Peter Finch's Howard Beale in Network with a breakdown that feels like the culmination of everything this guy and the country's been put through.

As Randall adjusts to becoming a media sensation, it's Kate taking the brunt of the backlash, framed as a fear-mongering psycho despite being more well-adjusted and sensible than most. Publicly demeaned by everyone from her journalist boyfriend (Himesh Patel) to the President herself, she's the character who earns the most amount of empathy, as even the naming of the "Dibiasky Comet" feels like an intentional slap in the face, putting an even bigger target of unjustifiable blame on her back. 

With an seemingly permanent look on her face conveying utter disbelief at this insanity, Lawrence's "comeback" performance after a three year break ranks as one of her most nuanced and fascinating, reminding us all what we've missed. Between the President's cruel categorization of her as a poster girl for "disaffected youth and mental illness" and her son's sarcastic cheap shots at Kate's looks and intelligence, Lawrence conveys her character's boiling impatience and frustration with often just a single, piercing glance that speaks volumes. Beaten down through much of the film, she never makes Kate a doormat, imbuing her with the strength and resourcefulness to curb this corrupt hypocrisy, regardless of the consequences.

McKay also incorporates all these smaller details into the script that make for a surreal viewing experience, like the fact this narcissistic, power-hungry President has her own incompetent son serving as Chief of Staff, adding nepotism and cronyism to the list of malfeasance. And if it's going to still be a long running complaint that Streep's nominated for anything, why isn't she even being discussed for this? It's one of the rare recent examples of her taking a huge unexpected leap with this blistering portrayal of a delusional Commander in Chief that may contain some Hillary Clinton mannerisms, but by the actress's own admission, is entirely based on Trump. What's most impressive is the nonchalant arrogance with which Streep plays Orlean, who never once considers the option that anyone will hesitate in doing exactly what she says while happily kissing her ass at the same time. And sadly, she's completely right.

Mark Rylance is weirdly brilliant as BASH cellular CEO Peter Isherwell, a nightmare hybrid of Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos, Steve Jobs, Richard Branson or any other eccentric, self-absorbed tech billionaire promising to better everyone's lives. There's an expected way to play someone like this, but McKay has Rylance throw that rule book out the window, instead giving him these delightfully strange quirks that add so much to the persona. From Isherwell's odd accent to the creepy calmness, he's either mumbling unintelligibly, leaving out words or staring into space while talking, often making no sense whatsoever. It would have been so easy and predictable to play him as this kind of evil overlord, but McKay's smarter than that, knowing it's the disingenuous benevolence that makes this character resonate. Rylance goes all in, providing his own bizarre take on how these very recognizable personality types behave. 

There have been complaints about film's length, but in this particular case it feels strangely warranted, and that's coming from someone who cringes at any comedy or drama going beyond the two-hour mark. As with any picture, you could probably find areas to trim and tighten, but there's nothing egregiously obvious here. If pressed, even the two weakest sub-plots involving Ariana Grande's pop star character and Kate's relationship with a skateboarding shoplifter named Yule (Timothée Chalamet) don't unnecessarily extend the proceedings. The former is given brief, proportional screen time while you could argue Lawrence and Chalamet's performances help land that latter storyline land in a much better, more meaningful place heading into the third act. As for supposed issues with tone, given the material needs to alternate wildly between laugh-out-loud satire and dramatic events that suddenly seem a lot less fictional now, McKay remains remarkably consistent.               

Just when you think this has run out of people and ideas to skewer or went as far over-the-top as possible, its ending moves the goalpost. But none of it would work if there wasn't something real there with characters who are invested with a depth that make them work as both parodies and people. Comparisons have inevitably been made to Dr. Strangelove, but a more accurate reference point might be the similarly misunderstood, even less easily digestible Southland Tales, in which an eclectic, all-star cast of actors are placed inside an ambitiously imagined universe on the brink of socio-political collapse. Don't Look Up allows us to laugh at all the absurdity, relieved that someone finally had the guts to just say it, and this entertainingly well. With an evergreen quality likely to hold up over repeated viewings, it's the ultimate time capsule, providing a crazy snapshot of a world where the truth's become convenient to dismiss, but even easier to ignore.