grinningelvis

The muddled possibilities of Pluribus are only as intriguing as it's central characters and in episode 2, we're introduced to a handful of other surviving outliers. Surprise! They aren't very interesting. In fact, they're quite annoying. And they do and say irrational things. So what themes are established in this show in which glacial, meditative pacing often gives way to inane dialogue and opaque humor? Episode 2 does little to refine the central mystery and, instead, offers a late-season X-Files twist on top of a twist on top of a weak sci-fi convention. As the outlier, Carol actually has all of the power and none. He own ethics determine the fate of the world. Should we care? Nothing here so far beats like an actual emotion, and that should be a warning sign of what's to come.

You're not going to learn much about the writing and recording of Nebraska, nor much at all about Bruce Springsteen, whom this film purports to be about. You're likely not even going to be entertained. Deliver Me From Nowhere is pretty clumsy filmmaking. From black and white flashback scenes to actors doing double-takes when inspiration hits them, the whole film plays subtle moments big and big moments like cartoons. While the screenplay wants to be about something more than the music - ie, depression and art - there isn't enough insight into the era, the creative process, or the supporting characters to justify a scripted film about a moment so thoroughly documented in books and even in documentary. DMFN falls flat in just about every way, from White's dopey-depressed Bear to Jeremy Strong's pedantic, monologuing Landau to Bruce's composite live interest. We have the documents, so why show us a flat, overwrought sketch of an album being assembled? It's a film about a musician without music and completely disinterested in anyone other than its titular hero. Is the point to show the isolationist solipsism of depression as a creative force? Because we all know that Bruce Springsteen immediately exploded with Born InThe USA. He succeeded, but still struggles. Would have been nice to see a film that cared about THAT story, rather than whatever this flimsy, exploitative biopic seems to be attempting.

Never burdened by the self-serious polemics of a Black Mirror episode or the rote trappings of a slasher flick, Drew Hancock's fast, fun Companion is a unicorn of a movie. There may not be much new ground explored in this sci-fi thriller (the barrage of robots and AI and ponderous ethical debates are mostly disposed of here for sharp gender politics), but the film buzzes with a knowing energy, unconcerned with the fact that the audience might be ahead if the script. Instead, Companion subverts expectation by thinking fast, by endlessly sampling genres and tropes and delivering a sense of screwball comedy into its darkest turns. There is certainly a body count to match the brain cells, but the small cast and crisp screenplay delivers a surprising punch. Companion might liberally borrow, but it's all the right parts.