Maestro

Director: Bradley Cooper
Starring: Carey Mulligan, Bradley Cooper, Matt Bomer, Vincenzo Amato, Greg Hildreth, Michael Urie, Brian Klugman, Nick Blaemire, Mallory Portnoy, Sarah Silverman, Zachary Booth, Maya Hawke, Gideon Glick, Josh Hamilton
Running Time: 129 min.
Rating: R

**The Following Review Contains Major Plot Details For 'Maestro' **

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Mocked by some for being calculated Oscar bait, actor/director Bradley Cooper's long gestating dream project covering the life of legendary composer Leonard Bernstein does share certain similarities with traditionally familiar biopics. But in condensing the essence of this towering, troubled figure into barely over two hours, Maestro also takes some big swings that will probably rattle purists only interested in Bernstein's process as an artist. This focuses more on the moments, as Cooper and co-writer Josh Singer cleverly forego the nuts and bolts of the man's career to focus entirely on his rocky marriage.

Spanning decades, Cooper's selective in what's covered, displaying an incredible grasp of time and place when exploring the challenges of being caught in the orbit of a conflicted, complicated talent who never feels satisfied. After a deliberate start, it only gets better, building momentum before landing a devastatingly painful and realistic final blow. There's a Kane-like quality to how this all unfolds that extends past its monochrome opening, as Cooper makes adventurous creative choices both in front of and behind the camera. Held up by Matthew Libatique's astounding cinematography, the makeup, costuming and production design, the film's a marvel to look at, and for all the jokes about Cooper's self serious intentions, it's the results onscreen that speak loudest.

It's 1943 when 25-year-old assistant conductor of the New York Philharmonic Leonard Bernstein (Cooper) fills in for an ill Bruno Walter, with the performance earning strong enough accolades to launch the young talent to considerable fame. While still in a casual relationship with clarinetist David Oppenheim (Matt Bomer), he soon meets aspiring actress Felicia Montealagre (Mulligan) at a party, eventually leaving him to date and marry her. 

Together the couple have three children, with Leonard composing several successful Broadway musicals as Felicia's stage career flourishes. With the 60's wearing on, his affairs with men and dependency on drugs and alcohol become impossible for her to ignore, taking a toll on their marriage and tearing the family apart. But after finally rediscovering his love for Felicia and his work, unimaginable tragedy strikes, altering the remainder of Leonard's life.  

The story kicks off in black and white with an energetic opening sequence that sees Leonard jumping out of bed and sprinting to Carnegie Hall as the strains of his On the Waterfront score blast over the soundtrack. It grabs you right away, moving a mile a minute before settling into a slightly more predictable rhythm when he first meets Felicia. The first of the film's visually spectacular sequences comes with a rehearsal for On the Town where he all but announces his bisexuality to Felicia, even as it's clear she's fallen too hard to take the hint. Headstrong as Felicia is, her naivete lies in believing her future husband's vices won't matter if she can just keep him in line. 

Cooper plants the seeds early that Lenny's a man constantly craving the presence of others, to the point he can't even be in a bathroom without the door open. For him, the solitary nature of composing is a struggle compared to the satisfaction he gets conducting, which comfortably places him at the center of attention. Part egomaniac and insecure basket case, Cooper conveys these contradictions while also physically capturing Bernstein in eerily accurate ways, such as his nasally vocal inflection. As for the prosthetic nose, it's a lot of fuss about something that would hardly get a second look if not for all the manufactured controversy. 

Kazu Hiro and his makeup team deserve credit for flawlessly aging Cooper into the 70-year-old Bernstein who appears in the bookending scenes. And true to the period, get ready to see enough cigarette smoking for the film to justify its own Surgeon General's warning, which is almost comical considering how the notoriously safe and family friendly Steven Spielberg co-produced. 

The shift from black-and-white to 60's and 70's Technicolor accompanies the dramatic momentum when Lenny and Felicia's marriage crashes amidst his addictions and infidelity. Mulligan's sensational in this section, portraying the pain of a woman unable to continue standing on the sidelines as he flaunts his escapades in her face. When they eventually have it out in a Thanksgiving screaming match at their New York City Dakota apartment, their argument ends with a brilliantly surreal cameo from a cartoon icon that speaks to Cooper's directorial talents and his understanding of the absurdity found in everyday life. 

That showdown and Lenny lying straight to college-aged daughter Jamie's (Maya Hawke) face about his infidelities hit in powerfully different ways, but his conducting of Mahler's second symphony at England's Ely Cathedral is the picture's pinnacle. It's a euphoric and moving six-minute sequence that sees Cooper enthrallingly recreate the maestro's sweaty 1973 performance with tireless physicality, hypnotizing us as the sensation of pure cinema courses through our veins.

If it's hard to buy the claim this is Felicia's story when she's rarely given a scene without him, Carey Mulligan still makes a great case for her being his equal, adding depth and dimension to a thoughtfully written part. That it comes in support of someone else is fine since Lenny's supposed to suck up all the air in the room as she laments his inability to change, or rather a refusal to. The script doesn't evade Lenny's moral shortcomings, but gives him the redemption of being there when needed most, as Mulligan owns the last act with her heartbreaking portrayal. The grim cancer diagnosis is unflinchingly difficult to watch, with the actress continuing to display the character's same grit and stubbornness, even as she fades away in her family's arms. 

There's no mistaking this is a showcase for Cooper, but it's also his career best, touching on more than a few elements that run parallel to the star's own career. Directing this as if he really has something to prove, it's an intriguing quasi-prequel to 2022's Tár, which centered around another embattled conductor, albeit a fictional one. And now her idolization of Bernstein strangely makes even more sense after this. If that film had the market cornered on provoking debate, Maestro is all about feelings and vibes, giving viewers a peek into the tormented genius whose life seemed to flash before everyone's eyes.                                                                               

Licorice Pizza

Director: Paul Thomas Anderson
Starring: Alana Haim, Cooper Hoffman, Sean Penn, Tom Waits, Bradley Cooper, Benny Safdie, Skyler Gisondo, Mary Elizabeth Ellis, John Michael Higgins, Christine Ebersole, Harriet Sansom Harris, Joseph Cross, Maya Rudolph
Running Time: 134 min.
Rating: R  

★★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

What's always been distinctive about Paul Thomas Anderson films is his ability to make a story that in anyone else's hands would seem slight feel more important, regardless of whether it actually is. The coming-of-age comedy-drama Licorice Pizza is probably the most accessible mainstream picture he's made, which isn't to imply it any way lacks the rebellious spirit found in his most acclaimed work. It's like a less volatile Punch-Drunk Love, with portions that will remind some of Almost Famous, Magnolia and even some Boogie Nights in terms of tone and setting, while strangely sharing little in common with any of them. You could even consider it PTA's answer to Quentin Tarantino's Once Upon a Time in... Hollywood in how we're transported to such a semi-autobiographical time and place that clearly means a lot to the filmmaker, populated it with weird details, complex characters and a distinctive style that makes a superficially insignificant tale resonate far deeper.

It's hard not to love this no matter which crazy direction it takes us in because the devil's in the details and there are so many welcome distractions and asides that prove as rewarding as the main plot. That it's anchored by two perfectly cast, astonishingly talented actors making their big screen debuts only enhances the feeling we've been dropped into something special and may as well just enjoy the ride. If the knock against PTA has been that he's a superior director to writer, this film won't serve as the strongest counterargument with its unorthodox narrative structure, but that's splitting hairs considering how few equal him in either department. Containing certain elements that carry widespread appeal, it'll connect most with fans who couldn't wait to see what he had up his sleeve. And it doesn't disappoint. 

It's 1973 in the San Fernando Valley and 15-year-old actor Gary Valentine (Cooper Hoffman) spots 25-year-old photographer's assistant Alan Kane (Alana Haim) at his high school's picture day and immediately falls for her. After he strikes up a flirtatious conversation and invites her to dinner, she kind of shoots him down, while not entirely dismissing the offer. Much to his surprise, she actually shows up and they embark on a friendship Alana insists is completely platonic. But when Gary needs a chaperone to go to New York for a press tour for a comedy film he's appearing in with actress Lucy Doolittle (Christine Ebersole), Alana agrees to accompany him.

When Alana starts dating Gary's castmate Lance (Skyler Gisondo), a jealous Gary focuses on launching a waterbed company, which she soon joins in on as his assistant. Struggling to balance running the business with whatever their relationship has become, Alana tries to get into acting, earning a coveted audition opposite self-absorbed screen legend Jack Holden (Sean Penn). Meanwhile, Gary must deliver a waterbed to psychotic, mercurial film producer Jon Peters (Bradley Cooper). But even amidst this ongoing craziness and their lives moving in seemingly divergent directions, Gary and Alana always seem to circle back to each other. 

Loosely inspired by the life of Anderson's friend, child actor and producer Gary Goetzman, who really did start a waterbed company and pinball arcade and appeared in Yours, Mine and Ours with Lucille Ball, the rest is filled in with various stories and recollections from growing up in the Valley during the early 70's. While the most obvious influence on Anderson would seem to be something along the lines of Fast Times at Ridgemont High, the story itself seems almost too offbeat and intimately contained to invite such a broad comparison. It's actually closer in spirit and execution to Richard Linklater's underrated Everybody Wants Some!!, which was set a little later but has a very similar hangout feel that rarely depends on plot.

The script takes many detours, but they're entertaining ones that further the relationship between the two main characters, which is a whole conversation in itself. For all the controversy, it's safe to say that a 25 year-old woman dating a 15 year old boy in a fictional film set in the early 70's probably wouldn't have attracted as much attention and criticism even just five years ago unless the genders were reversed. Viewed in context, there's barely a sexual component to it, the issue's acknowledged, and the relationship itself is so unusually presented throughout, it's easy to forget what we're supposed to be offended by. In other words, you'll probably be too busy laughing with and at their awkwardness to really care. Also, it's 1973, so if you're going to make a film set in that era, accuracy counts, and this plays how it would then, now matter how differently it may look through 2022 glasses.

A similar, though slightly less strong defense can be extended to John Michael Higgins' restaurant owner character, Jerry Frick, who talks in a demeaning Asian accent to his Japanese wives. Is it offensive? Of course, because he is, and that stupidity is pretty much the point of the entire exchange, as we're supposed to notice it because these characters sure won't. And in showing what everyone was once willing to overlook, it becomes a little more culturally accurate and shameful than we were counting on. Of course, all of this is just a reaction to a reaction, as we're too caught up in what's happening with Gary and Alana to worry how about how badly people behaved in the early seventies.

The two leads not only create magic together onscreen, but individually convey a quirkiness and relatability that's just right for whom they're playing. While Cooper Hoffman is the late Philip Seymour Hoffman's son and while there's definitely a physical resemblance, he conveys an entirely different vibe in this role, playing a protagonist that'll remind many of William Miller from Almost Famous if he was infused with the nerdy bravado of Rushmore's Max Fischer. Outgoing and even a little devious in trying to accomplish his goals, he's an old 15 and knows it, as Hoffman's so good at playing this kid whose ambitious bluster hides the fact that he's not quite experienced enough for whatever comes next. He fakes it until he makes it, before faking it some more.  

Like Gary, Alana's an endearing mess spinning in different directions, only lacking the drive and questioning why she's hanging out with him and his teenage friends. As this walking quarter-life crisis, Haim pretty much owns the film and her casting's a masterstroke in the sense that the indie singer looks as if she could have stepped out of a time machine from the 1970's while radiating a natural, effortless charisma that promises a very bright acting future. Blurring the lines even further, Alana Kane's family is played by Haim's real life one, with sisters and HAIM bandmates, Danielle and Este making appearances alongside their parents. Even if Haim did this once and went back to her day job, her work opposite Hoffman would still be hilariously unforgettable, as are the scenes she shares with Sean Penn as this a William Holden-inspired actor who takes an interest in Alana. We're not quite sure what to make of that, until we are, and then the whole thing flies off the rails when Tom Waits enters the picture as an unhinged director indulging his friend's worst and wildest impulses.

An intriguing sub-plot in which Alana works for Los Angeles mayoral candidate Joel Wachs (Benny Safdie) doesn't go where you'd expect, proving to be one of many examples of Anderson fictionalizing historical facts to better fit the picture he's painting. But the real scene stealer is Bradley Cooper, who's take on real-life producer Jon Peters is an amalgamation of every insane, hyper aggressive 70's studio exec with the volume cranked to eleven. Gary and Alana's adventure in delivering his waterbed comprises the film's most electric and hysterical sequence of events, as we hold our breathe waiting for this lunatic to completely snap.

As would be expected for a film titled after an L.A. record store chain, the soundtrack is loaded with era-specific hits and even some obscure but no less inspired musical choices that compliment Jonny Greenwood's score and are perfectly incorporated the narrative. Songs from Todd Rundgren, David Bowie, Donovan, The Doors, Sonny and Cher, Paul McCartney and Wings and others might make it the most musically packed film of PTA's career, nearly doubling as the ultimate "Best of" seventies compilation.  

Anderson's willingness to take the characters on these comedic tangents is what sets this apart from most in its realm. You can practically hear the accusations that the film's about nothing, with the machinations of the plot taking a backseat to a mood and sense of nostalgia that's evoked, even for those who may not have come of age during the specific period. There's just so much to enjoy and take in here, even if viewers may be scratching their heads at all of its delightful eccentricities. Where Licorice Pizza ranks on the PTA scale will vary across the board, but love it or not, the longer this sits the more oddly memorable it becomes, proving in the end to deliver exactly what we came for.

Nightmare Alley

Director: Guillermo del Toro
Starring: Bradley Cooper, Cate Blanchett, Rooney Mara, Toni Collette, Willem Dafoe, Richard Jenkins, Ron Perlman, David Strathairn, Mary Steenburgen, Peter MacNeill, Holt McCallany, Paul Anderson, Jim Beaver, Clifton Collins, Jr., Tim Blake Nelson
Running Time: 150 min.
Rating: R 

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Part remake, part noir homage, Guillermo del Toro's Nightmare Alley will likely go down as one of those more respectable reimaginings that gets more right than wrong, making for an immersive, entirely agreeable experience. Free of the supernatural elements that have categorized much of del Toro's work, all the attention shifts to the soullessness and moral corruption that resides within. And there isn't a much better a setting for that than traveling sideshow carnivals of the 30's and 40's, populated by downtrodden characters being either used, abused or manipulated as scams and cons run amok. With a script from del Toro and co-writer Kim Morgan, the second feature adaptation of William Lindsay Gresham's 1946 novel doesn't stray too far from the source material in the narrative sense, instead stylistically distinguishing itself in a class of its own, as del Toro's output tends to. 

With a stacked, all-star-cast and awe inspiring production design, the plot's essentially one long con game, and while the second half payoff's considerably more impactful than what precedes it, the whole setup looks better in retrospect, especially once the story arrives at its inevitably tragic destination. There's a certain aesthetic superficiality at play that matches its characters, so even while it doesn't transcend the horror genre to evolve into something more profound, you'd still be hard-pressed to find a a movie of its ilk more technically proficient or firing on as many cylinders.

It's 1939 and Stanton Carlisle (Cooper) takes a job as a carny after burning down his house with a dead body inside. When the carnival's owner, Clem Hoatley (Willem Dafoe) recruits him to help with the show's geek, who's fallen ill, Stan moves up to begin working with clairvoyant Madame Zeena (Toni Colette) and her alcoholic husband, Pete Krumbein (David Strathairn), who teaches him the secrets of their act. While learning and studying their cold reading and coded language tactics, he begins to fall for shy performer Molly Cahill (Rooney Mara), offering up some valuable new ideas for her electrocution act. But after Pete dies from consuming wood alcohol, Stan takes the lessons he's learned on the road with Molly as his assistant, leaving their carnival days behind to reinvent himself as a psychic act for Buffalo's wealthy elite. 

Ignoring Pete's warnings about leading people on when it comes to contacting the deceased, Stan's bluff is called by mysterious psychologist Dr. Lilith Ritter (Cate Blanchett), who attempts to publicly expose  his act as a fraud, with little success. Humiliated but intrigued by the scammer, she offers him a deal involving a rich but potentially dangerous patient named Ezra Grindle (Richard Jenkins) whose lover died years ago from a forced abortion. Despite Molly's objections, Stan makes promises to Grindle about his late partner he may not be able to keep, ensnaring himself in a web of lies and deceit from which there may be no escape. 

What makes this all mostly work is that there's just enough revelations and twists in the script, while still remaining relatively simple at its core. Themes of greed, avarice and betrayal are front and center, eventually coming full circle in a powerful ending, but not before some convoluted happenings occur along the way. Del Toro strikes just the right tone, especially in the early carnival scenes that set Stan on his dark path, eventually dragging Mara's Molly down along with him, though she admittedly registers a bit flat as a character.

Cooper's incredibly effective depiction of the protagonist's transformation from wide-eyed, ambitious awe into obsessive greediness is facilitated by the supporting cast. Whether it's Strathairn's hopeless drunk, Collette's tarot reader or Dafoe's swindling huckster, they all more than carry their share of the load. As does Tamara Deverell's production design and Dan Laustsen's cinematography, which immerses them all in this weathered, dirty, depressing "freak show" world. That this was also released in black and white actually makes a lot of sense, as it's hard to think of any recent picture with a content and visual style better suited to that treatment without it feeling like a gimmick. 

It isn't until Stan takes his act on the road with Molly and encounters Dr. Ritter that the movie really comes alive, with the possibility presenting itself that the ultimate player has finally met his match.  Blanchett's femme fatale looms largest of any character, bringing a cunning, seductive sense of danger and intrigue to Ritter with each carefully calculated move she makes. Her nomination-worthy performance is the ideal fit for this material, with the chemistry she shares with Cooper fueling the film's most tension-filled moments, even as it's clear the direction del Toro's heading in the last act. 

There are clues and brief flashbacks emphasizing a past Stan needs to run far away from, but can't, no matter how hard he tries. With this mentalist show, he's devised a one-way ticket to the big time, unaware his own weaknesses are about to be exploited and exposed as callously as his clients have been by him. What starts as a scheme goes entirely too far, his eventual comeuppance arriving in the final scene, sentenced to the very life he so desperately tried to escape, at any cost imaginable.    

Even as Del Toro's direction trumps the script, you'd often never know it, as the atmosphere and performances carry the day, specifically Bradley Cooper's. Further extending his run as maybe the most consistently reliable actor and movie star working today, he delivers again with his portrayal of this ambitious, narcissistic carny more than willing to sell his soul, or anyone else's, for a quick buck. Relentlessly depressing and darkly humorous, Nightmare may not be for all tastes, but it's still a keeper, likely to be revisited down the line as something slightly more accomplished than its critical and commercial reputation suggests.  

A Star is Born (2018)

Director: Bradley Cooper
Starring: Bradley Cooper, Lady Gaga, Sam Elliott, Dave Chappelle, Andrew Dice Clay, Anthony Ramos, Rafi Gavron, Greg Grunberg,
Running Time: 135 min.
Rating: R

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Bradley Cooper's A Star is Born is a tale of two movies. The first revolves around a drunk, self-destructive country rock star drowning in his troubled past who finds renewed creative purpose in discovering a new talent. It follows a trajectory not unlike 2009's Crazy Heart, with its lead actor channeling Kris Kristofferson in 1976's A Star is Born. The second is about a waitress and struggling part-time bar singer who suddenly gets her big break and falls in love with famous musician. For a little while, both two stories are beautifully told in lockstep, until they sharply diverge, splitting your allegiance and maddingly asking you to sympathize with a character who hasn't done anything to earn it. Worse yet, it's the wrong one. It's all downhill from there, taking us down a depressing path toward an inevitably doomed conclusion that's more frustrating than tragic.

In adapting material that's been previously brought to the screen multiple times with mixed results, Cooper makes a directorial debut that's unarguably impressive despite certain narrative weaknesses. He isn't blameless, but his direction, and especially his performance, are the least of the film's troubles. It starts strongly before grinding to a halt midway through and becoming the Lady Gaga Show. This isn't a knock on her so much as the character she's asked to play, who will test the patience of anyone who was even slightly on the fence about her casting. Musically, she's an inspired choice, but everything surrounding her just seems off the entire time, especially regarding the relationship at the heart of the film. By the time we get to an ending that doesn't work (and didn't the previous three times this has been made), I was confused as to what exactly I was supposed to think or feel. Alcoholism and drug addiction are diseases, but selling out isn't, as much as you may be tempted to rethink that after watching the "star" of the movie's title.

Famous country singer Jackson Maine (Cooper) prepares for each show by downing a mixture of booze and pills, and is only kept in check by his older half-brother and manager, Bobby (Sam Elliott). After a concert gig in California, Jack stumbles into a drag bar where he sees waitress and songwriter Ally (Gaga) perform. Instantly smitten and entranced by her performance, they're introduced and end up spending the night talking, as she confides in him her aspirations for a music career.

Inviting Ally to one of his concerts, Jack urges her to join him on stage to perform a song she's written, and after some initial hesitation, she agrees. With her career now off and running, they enter a romantic relationship together, but as her star rises with a new record deal and an overhauled image, Jack's continues to decline, Wrestling with addictions as he continues his longstanding feud with brother Bobby, a rift also develops in his relationship with Ally. The writing's on the wall: Jack needs to clean up his act, or risk losing everything.

The most rewarding scenes come early when we're still in the discovery stages of the story, both for the characters and audience. Of course, at the center of it is Ally and Jack's performance of the now ubiquitous Oscar-winning pop-power ballad, "Shallow," which is not only a huge, hooky powerhouse single that Gaga and Cooper sing the hell out of, but a more insightful distillation of the story's themes than so much of what follows. Everything from the opening credits leading into that moment when he calls her up to that stage are somewhat magical, and even if there are times when you doubt Jack would take this kind of interest in a drag club singer, Cooper puts it to rest with the sincerity of his performance.

Adopting a gravely voice and perpetually looking as if he awakened from a 10-hour nap, he's a more believable in this role than you'd expect and it's not a coincidence that the first half of the picture, focusing primarily on Jack, is the stronger one. Similarly, Gaga's best scenes as Ally (both onstage and off) come directly opposite Cooper, so it's a good thing nearly all of them are. It's only when Ally's made it that the story loses steam, devolving into a long-running therapy session that actually becomes a real challenge to sit through at times. Some of it stems from the fact that once this unknown waitress is plucked out of obscurity and discovered by Jack, there's no where for her to go but up while he continues his steady decline. And it's here where Gaga's casting, or really the casting of any famous singer, starts to present some problems.

Initially, we shared in Jack's sense of discovery of Ally because we've just never experienced Lady Gaga in such a grounded context before. It's kind of an odd observation, but because of the nature of her persona, she can becomes almost unrecognizable or invisible doing "regular" things like arguing with her dad (really well played by Andrew Dice Clay), being late for work, telling jokes, hanging out in parking lots or getting starstruck. She's great at all of this, but when the moment Ally signs that record deal with this obviously sleazy producer (Rafi Gavron), all bets are off. While you're never quite sure what exactly the movie wants you to think about that decision, it does seem to push Jack as a jealous drunk to be pitied for his out-of-control behavior. It's true, but Ally comes off as such a sellout and "her" music so spectacularly disposable, I'm not sure anyone could blame him.

These developments force Gaga to "play down" as Ally, who may as well now be Britney Spears if not the fact that it's unlikely she'd even deserve a residency in Vegas. And because Ally's transformation falls so squarely in the pop realm, we're jarringly reminded that a pop star is playing her. And of the one thing each incarnation of A Star Is Born has failed to do: Cast or make a rising star. It may seem insignificant, but it's maybe one of two elements that could have really helped since it appears Cooper insists on taking this story in a familiar direction...again.  

At one point a drunk Jack confronts Ally about her choices and we're clearly supposed to resent him and take her side for asserting independence in a male-driven industry. I think. But what should come off as the rantings of an alcoholic madman seem like sane, reasonable concerns directed at a record label puppet oblivious to the fact that she's popular and famous enough to entertain other options or even create some of her own. Sure, it's entirely possible Cooper's more self-aware than we think and there's some kind of meta sub-text going on in the screenplay regarding the pitfalls of fame, but none of it makes the screen. That's not to say there aren't positives to be found in these problematic second and third acts, even if most of them come from Matthew Libatique's cinematography and Cooper and Elliott's performances, which map out a complicated sibling rivalry gripping enough to carry its own film.

That the last twenty minutes feels like a depressingly cruel joke wouldn't be such a problem if the script had something more to say. There's also a scene at the Grammy Awards that's supposed to be dramatic but goes too over-the-top to be taken seriously, instead invoking uncomfortable laughs. While we should at least be grateful Cooper is smart enough not to go anywhere near the ludicrous event that closed the '76 version, it's maybe sadder that this incarnation started as something so much better than its predecessors. Maybe that's the point. Maybe we're supposed to be frustrated at these characters for wrecking each others lives, both of which were filled with so much promise. Unfortunately, the same could also be said for the film in which they appear. This take on A Star is Born does manages to put a fresh spin on a very familiar tale, but not without proving there are many different ways to make the same mistakes.

Joy

Director: David O. Russell
Starring: Jennifer Lawrence, Robert DeNiro, Bradley Cooper, Édgar Ramirez, Diane Ladd, Dascha Polanco, Elisabeth Röhm, Virginia Madsen, Isabella Rossellini, Isabella Crovetti-Cramp 
Running Time: 124 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

In David O. Russell's Joy, Jennifer Lawrence proves she can even make a mop interesting. The opening title card informs us this "Inspired by the true stories of daring women. One in particular." That one woman in particular is Joy Magnano, a divorced mother of three who went from near- poverty to selling her invention of the Miracle Mop and becoming the queen of home shopping television. Knowing of her products but very little about the person behind them, I accidentally stumbled upon one of her shows on the Home Shopping Network right before the release of the film, the timing of which couldn't have been coincidental. "Wait, she's playing HER?" No way could I picture it. Even if she'd be playing Joy at a much younger age, the nature of the role still suggested the casting of an older actress, a complaint Lawrence must be sick of hearing by now. Plus, there's that pesky problem of convincing audiences to show up to a movie about a woman selling mops.

Upon its release, Joy opened with a thud, equally alienating moviegoers and critics, with the latter giving Russell some of his worst reviews since his creative reemergence a few years back. But what's so funny about this is how no one really came out and said exactly what was wrong with it, throwing around generalizations like "crazy" and "unfocused" and even going so far as to express disappointment that film dared to be more than its trailers insinuated. What's actually most perplexing about Joy is that it couldn't be any more straightforward.

This isn't a mess. There isn't a problem with tone. And whatever fudging was done with the facts or pre-production hiccups that occurred, it's very clearly Joy Magnano's story, as listed in the credits. But more than that, it's told brilliantly, furthering cementing Russell's genius and bolstering his reputation as one of the most visually innovative directors working today. Combing elements of comedy, drama and thriller into the biopic that really isn't, its biggest attribute is how unflinching it is in showing the painful sacrifices and obstacles that accompany invention. Few films covering this topic have been stronger or more illuminating.

It's 1989 and Joy (Lawrence) is a single mother of two living on Long Island with her young kids, divorced parents Rudy (Robert DeNiro) and Terri (Virginia Madsen), grandmother Mimi (Diane Ladd) and ex-husband, Tony (Édgar Ramirez). Between working the desk at Eastern Airlines, breaking up her parents' fights and balancing her father's books at the auto shop, Joy's barely scraping by financially, putting her dreams on hold to take care of her dysfunctional family. Frequently flashing back to happier times, she recalls a childhood full of building and creating things, a hobby that fell to the wayside when her parents divorced 17 years ago. Now her dad's dating a wealthy Italian widow named Trudy (Isabella Rossellini) and her mom lies on the coach all day, obsessively watching soap operas. 

For Joy, inspiration comes in the form of a blueprint for a self-wringing mop she hopes to patent and sell. Supported by her lifelong best friend Jackie (Dascha Polanco) but discouraged by just about everyone else in her family, including her overachieving half-sister Peggy (Elisabeth Röhm), she attempts to secure the financing necessary to manufacture and sell the product. And that's where the trouble starts, as a series of severe mistakes and complications lead her to literally risk everything for the pursuit of her dream.

Joy takes care of the household since all the other adults in her life behave like grown children, but the second she needs one favor, they seem to rub her nose in it, at times almost willing things to go wrong. And do they ever go wrong. What the film does really well is show how frustrating it is to be an intelligent person surrounded by irritating know-it-alls. And when those know-it-alls are your family, it gets even uglier. Coming up with the idea is the easy part compared to what follows, as her struggles demonstrate that you could have the most creative, original idea on the planet and it's likely no one can notice or care unless you're willing to fight for it.

A good eighty to ninety percent of the story is about financial disaster, which is kind of fascinating when you consider how many people are out there are pitching their ideas, but just don't have the resources at their disposal to make it happen. The script also harkens back to this interesting notion that sometimes the clearest, purest vision of what you want to do comes in childhood, and your adult life can be spent drifting away from it, hoping you'll return to shore. That's why the flashback scenes featuring a young Joy (Isabella Crovetti-Cramp) are so essential.   

This is really one of the first films to get into the nuts and bolts of patenting an idea, and since Russell keeps things moving and visually engaging, it never seems like a business procedural or tutorial session. Whether it's the hiring of an incompetent lawyer, getting ripped off by the shady manufacturer, or having to take out a second mortgage on her house, she really could lose everything. And the involvement of her family in this enterprise only seems to increase those chances, as they're all more woefully ill-equipped at making these decisions than she is.

The worst of the bunch is Trudy, who Rossellini plays with this unlikable iciness, embodying a woman who feels her unearned wealth entitles her to an alarming degree of control. It is her money Joy's playing with, but all bets are off once she arrogantly holds it over her and pretends to be an expert in something she knows nothing about. DeNiro's Rudy seems to be almost a comic figure at first, before the actor peels back the layers to reveal that Joy shouldn't have stood a chance in life with him as a father. As much as Joy's ex-husband, the failed singer Tony, is presented as a loser with few prospects, he's ironically the only person that has her back and best interests in mind, often sensing disaster before anyone else who should know better.   

The high-water mark comes about midway through when Joy finds herself at the Lancaster, Pennsylvania headquarters of then-fledgling home shopping channel, QVC and Russell takes us into a universe we've never seen before. For her, it may as well be another universe entirely. Everything that transpires in this entire section is enthralling, from how Russell shoots it to some of the backstage details and characters we're exposed to (including an out-of-left-field cameo by Melissa Rivers playing her mom). But what's most memorable is Bradley Cooper's brief but pivotal appearance as network executive Neil Walker. Tasked with explaining the company's purpose and taking her on a tour of the facilities, Cooper rattles an almost endless amount of dialogue and expository information about the inner workings of QVC without ever failing to completely hold our interest.

It's almost scary how effective Cooper is here, finding just the right note for this guy, who's no-nonsense and bottom line oriented while still being relatively sympathetic to Joy's situation. He doesn't get a ton of screen time, but his scenes are some of the most crucial of the film, and he plays them just right,  with Cooper continuing to prove how interesting a performer he's become. Of course, this eventually culminates in Joy herself having to pitch her product on-air and under lights, with no TV experience under her belt. A first for the network that relies on experienced sellers and celebrities to handle the on-air pitching duties. 

The moments of uplift in Joy are few and far between. In fact, you could really only name two. A seemingly certain victory that ends up being short-lived and a final confrontation in a hotel room that's so tense and tightly written it could easily be found in a psychological thriller. This should be admired on a number of levels, not the least of which being Lawrence's Oscar- nominated performance, as she somehow pulls it off again, amazing us in a role she should be completely wrong for.

If it seems as if the Jennifer is playing older than she ever has, it could be attributed to the fact that this character had to take on a huge amount of responsibility at a young age. As it turns out, Joy Mangano was actually in her mid-thirties at the time so Lawrence really is playing ten years older than she is. And once again, when the cameras roll, a transformation takes place in her we'd never think to question. It's a gift she has for playing these strong, but ultimately damaged women and the performance shies away from the ugliness of some of the character's questionable choices. But when push comes to shove, like Joy, she's capable of bringing it when necessary. It also speaks volumes that there's no love interest, making it clear exactly where this story's focus lies.

Reuniting with Russell earned her Lawrence a third Oscar nomination (following her 2013 win for Silver Linings Playbook) so it's impossible to argue she even needs to take things in a different direction, regardless of this film's reception. And while it can be a questionable habit for directors to continuously work with the same cast for multiple projects, there's no need to fix what isn't broken since he's also gotten such wildly different work out of Cooper and DeNiro in each of them, with the former at the top of his game in this.

It's ironic that those calling for a return to the more risk-taking Russell of his earlier days are complaining the style he employs here is too far out there and crazy. Other than the aforementioned flashback scenes, a soap opera framing device and a voice-over narration from beyond the grave (all of which work), this could be considered a straightforward biopic. Or at least it would be in the hands of anyone else.

Russell knows how to infuse a simple story with this manic energy and turn it into so much more than what it appears to be at its surface, a quality never more apparent than in the final minutes, when he transitions from the most hurtful, devastating scene into a succeeding one of pure triumph. We should have known better. If someone can make a compelling movie about the founding of a web site, there was no reason to believe it couldn't also be done for the invention of a mop. Like any story, you just need the right director and cast to make it.
     

Aloha

Director: Cameron Crowe
Starring: Bradley Cooper, Emma Stone, Rachel McAdams, Bill Murray, John Krasinki, Danny McBride, Alec Baldwin, Jaeden Lieberher, Danielle Rose Russell
Running Time: 105 min.
Rating:  PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

In his 2005 film Elizabethtown, writer/director Cameron Crowe's depressed protagonist infamously attempted to differentiate between a failure and a fiasco. Now, after the disastrous release of his poorly received Aloha, he's probably asking himself that same question. It's not the most promising sign when the biggest question going into a film is whether it's really as bad as everyone says. How can any movie directed by Crowe and starring Bradley Cooper, Emma Stone, Rachel McAdams and Bill Murray be THAT bad? But the truth is that any movie starring or directed by anyone can be, and it still takes an enormous amount of talent and to even do that.

Aloha isn't entirely successful, but it's not a disaster either. Far from it. And it certainly doesn't deserve to end a filmmaker's career, especially considering most of what ends up on screen proves he's still got it, occasional missteps and all. Despite what's been said, this is vintage Crowe, aside from an overly ambitious plot that's unlike anything he's previously done, sometimes to the film's detriment. But what's been lost in all the manufactured controversies is that it also contains one of the best directed scenes of his career, on par with anything from Almost Famous, Jerry Maguire or Say Anything. Unfortunately, the movie it's in is not. This begs the question of whether Crowe's work has really changed at all, or audiences have just grown more cynical, leaving our bright eyed optimism in the 90's, the decade this type of film seems practically enshrined in.

Following a failed stint as an Air Force pilot, military contractor, Brian Gilcrest (Cooper) returns to Hawaii to aid billionaire Carson Welch (Murray) in his efforts to develop land into a space center and launch a privately-funded satellite. He also encounters ex-girlfriend, Tracy (McAdams), who's now married to a pilot of very few words in Woody (John Krasinki), with whom she's raising their two kids, 12 year-old Grace (Danielle Rose Russell) and 9 year-old Mitchell. Brian's liason for the mission is Air Force Captain Alison Ng (Stone), whose sparkling personality and connection to the island's rich spirituality helps smooth things over with the native Hawaiians. As he eventually falls for her, it not only complicates Carson's mission, but Tracy's already shaky marriage as well.

As tempting as it is to describe the almost needlessly ambitious main plot as having something to do with Hawaii and space, all those aforementioned details are required to grasp it. And yet, no amount of them could suffice. It's not that it's convoluted or confusing so much as everything moves so quickly that it's tough to take it all in. Perhaps thankfully, Crowe is more interested in setting than story this time as he spends most of the opening hour drafting a love letter to the Hawaiian culture, drenching us in its mysticism and spirituality. But unlike The Descendants (with which this will most frequently be compared), the location doesn't feel quite as seamless and organic to the story, as Crowe really lays it on thick in the first hour.

If the satellite plot isn't enough of a head-scratcher, try keeping up with Cooper and Stone's characters meeting with Hawaiian sovereignty activist Dennis 'Bumpy' Kanahele, lending an impressive presence as "himself," even if it's his shirt that ends up stealing the show. Crowe should only wish that's the only controversy this film courted, as his casting of Stone as an Air Force pilot who's "half Swedish, one quarter Chinese and one quarter Hawaiian," created a noticeable stir. But let's just call it what it really is: PC nonsense that has little to do with the film's merit or content.

Actors act. That's what they do. And sometimes they even take on roles that are a drastic departure from who they really are. Other than Crowe having Stone's character pointlessly remind everyone of her ethnicity out of what seems like some massive insecurity, it's hardly worth a discussion. But judging from the extreme reaction, you'd think Stone was playing Mickey Rooney's role in Breakfast at Tiffany's. Whitewashing is a problem, but so is the fact that Crowe felt he had to apologize for how he cast his own movie. If anything, his only mistake was writing the character's ethnicity into the script without anticipating a media firestorm. But that's Crowe, completely idealistic in believing audiences would care enough about these characters to drown out the noise and disappear into whatever world he's created. He probably didn't even give a second thought to the implications of Stone's casting and, in a strange way, that's kind of reassuring. 
          
Joining Ione Skye, Kate Hudson and Kirsten Dunst as the latest in a long line of Crowe's Manic Pixie Dream Girls, Stone might be playing the most manic. Given what she's done up to this point, that path does seem right, but watching the opening hour it's hard not to consider Alison Ng one of the more overbearing, hyperactive MPDG's to be experienced in a while. It's easy to see how Brian would be completely put off by her, as are we. But just when the volume is pumped up so high on the character she starts making Dunst's Claire Colburn seem as if she's on depressants, the script, and Stone start to find their groove.

The exact turning point comes during a Hall and Oates dance sequence involving Stone and Bill Murray that's so weirdly compelling you're forced to just surrender to both actors' charms and the pure random absurdity of it. That Murray's supposed to be playing a self-serving, meglomaniacal CEO makes little difference to him, and of course, us. It's impossible to dislike the guy and he knows it, lending an eccentric quality to Carson that makes this nonsensical space plot bearable for at least the scenes he's in.

Bradley Cooper not only comes out of this unscathed, but demonstrating a versatility and charisma in a lead Tom Cruise would seem perfect for fifteen or twenty years prior. Jerry Maguire meets Top Gun meets Silver Linings Playbook would probably be the best way to describe the film, as well as Cooper's work in it. Depending upon how you feel about the idea of the actor starring in that kind of a project, he gets us on Brian's side quickly, rooting for the redemption of a guy who's kind of a self-absorbed jerk. Two big scenes near the end confirm just how smoothly Cooper excels at this, and whatever problems exist within the film, he definitely isn't among them.

Despite what was advertised, this isn't some kind of romantic comedy love triangle in which Brian is torn between Alison and his ex, played by McAdams. That this doesn't at all occur is most refreshing aspect of Crowe's script, as is the treatment of the family Tracy's built with aloof husband, Woody. Everything about their lives is handled so realistically and intelligently you almost want the whole film to be about them. McAdams occupies a different space than we're used to seeing her in on screen, making Tracy seem almost defeated and agitated at her ex's arrival, despite her marital problems being present long before.

In a nearly wordless performance, Krasinki delivers what's probably the best big screen turn of his career thus far as the complicated Woody, whose unpredictable reaction to Brian's arrival flies in the face of what's expected. Everything isn't as simple as an ex-boyfriend arriving to destroy a marriage, and the few scenes Krasinki shares with Cooper are successful for doesn't happen rather than what does.

Only Crowe could could find a way to work David Bowie and Bob Dylan into a space satellite scene and get away with it. Well, maybe he doesn't exactly get away with it. It's about as ridiculous as it sounds, even if you can't help but think the space storyline was the biggest casualty in the editing process, chopped and cut until it made little sense. As usual, Crowe uses his personal playlist as a backdrop to the action, but the best choice might be going with Jonsi again for the score since their We Bought A Zoo collaboration felt as natural a fit for his work as possible without sounding too cloying or whimsical. There's a lot of that same sound here too, as no one could ever accuse Crowe of merely phoning it in with a soundtrack.

The better movie stuck inside Aloha struggling to break free comes through in the last scene, which tops every single minute that came before, lending the film an unexpected emotional pull that nearly toppled me over. Without spoiling it, there's an obvious, conventional resolution you assume will be the last scene, before Crowe pulls back the curtain to reveal the actual finish, which brings the focus back to exactly where it belongs.

Subtly bubbling under the surface the entire time, the picture's most perfectly executed subplot takes center stage in the final few minutes, reaching its logical culmination and knocking us out with the scene we didn't know we wanted until it came. Wordlessly displaying an entire range of emotions in a matter of moments, young actress Danielle Russell provides us with a 30 seconds so astounding it would play well even out of context. But placed in the context of the entire film, it's safe to say Aloha primarily exists just so we can arrive there.

Anyone watching how skillfully Crowe constructs the end would probably assume a masterpiece precedes it. And they'd only be setting themselves up for disappointment. But not as much disappointment as you've heard. If all the doomsday prognosticators are correct in proclaiming Crowe's big screen directorial career over (which it won't be), it's hard to imagine a better, more fitting scene to close it. Neither a failure nor a fiasco, Aloha sits somewhere in between, leaving to our imaginations an alternate version in which everything went right. But that movie wouldn't be nearly as interesting to talk about or revisit. 
       

American Sniper

Director: Clint Eastwood
Starring: Bradley Cooper, Sienna Miller, Max Charles, Luke Grimes, Kyle Gallner, Sam Jaeger, Jake McDorman, Eric Close
Running Time: 132 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

The one thing Clint Eastwood's American Sniper can't be accused of is failing to live up to its title, which of course comes from the 2012 memoir by Chris Kyle, the most decorated and lethal sniper in U.S. Military history. Regardless of how much it bends facts or the public's reaction, it does feel very true to the legendary figure the film was intended to eulogize. Controversy has only entered the equation when discussing the heroics of his actions, a debate that's entirely political and has little to do with what unfolds on screen. Let's just get it out of the way now: Kyle was a hero who courageously served this country and that wouldn't have changed whether this movie was made or not. The argument that Eastwood should have presented a more even-handed portrayal of the man or the side he fought against is barking up the wrong tree as far as the film's problems are concerned.

Had Eastwood actually released a flag-waving, right-wing propaganda piece I'm not sure I'd have much of a problem with it considering how infrequently that stance is represented in Hollywood. But he mostly plays it down the middle. If pushed, it's fair to say this leans slightly pro-war, but more accurately this is a military procedural doubling as a character study. Unfortunately, it's far less successful at the latter and the former is very much something we've seen before. It's well executed, even if I'll admit to being a bit perplexed as to how it's raked in gazillions at the box office and scored a Best Picture nomination. This raises the question as to whether it's possible to appreciate and even admire what Kyle did, while not being completely sold on the idea of stepping into what sometimes feel like a first person shooter video game. It's kind of an exhausting watch in ways both good and bad, but the central performance and Eastwood's direction, his tightest in years, manage to win out.

The film depicts each of U.S. Navy SEAL sniper Chris Kyle's (Bradley Cooper) four tours of duty in Iraq, starting with his first deployment following the September 11th attacks in 2001.With each subsequent tour, Kyle's legendary reputation grows, accumulating an impressively lengthy kill list and saving countless American lives. It's only when he returns home in between tours that the cracks start to show, as his traumatic memories and experiences in Iraq haunt his daily life, tearing apart his marriage to wife Taya (Sienna Miller), who believes he should be focusing more on their new son and daughter.

With each trip home Kyle finds it increasingly difficult to adjust to a civilian lifestyle, frequently disoriented and distant as he continues to emotionally drift away. It's a stark contrast to the cool, collected sniper with pinpoint accuracy whose persistent nemesis, Mustafa, a dangerous insurgent sniper, proves to be his biggest obstacle throughout the four tours. He keeps going back, but it's when he permanently returns to his family that he faces his biggest challenge, removed from the only environment in which he truly feels most comfortable. For Kyle, becoming an emotionally engaged and present husband and father is a learning process, as is overcoming the PTSD that's taken over his life.

This is primarily about a man who was born to do what he did, and did it with a calculated diligence few could likely comprehend. While it may seem crass to describe Kyle as being "hard-wired" to kill there's no question that's exactly how Eastwood presents it so framing the discussion any other way would only sugar-coat the obvious. But it's not as if Kyle is presented as this emotionless one-man killing machine, knocking off innocent women and children without a second thought. There are many scenes where we see him physically and emotionally struggle with what his actions, often beating himself up for feeling that he didn't do enough for his men. An early scene even shows him pretty much rejecting any celebration of his accomplishments and a more devastating one back home depicts an encounter with a vet he saved, but can't even look in the eye.

Anyone claiming Eastwood isn't showing the horror or ramifications of war or just simply throwing a victory parade celebrating Kyle's kill count was obviously watching a different film. The entire third act, in which he devolves into such a disengaged zombie that he can't speak to his wife should be proof enough. But even in giving the director points for his balanced portrayal, we still never really learn anything about Kyle that we didn't know going in. And while the film's structure (alternating between war and home life scenes) undeniably keeps the pace moving, it doesn't break any new ground and sometimes feels frustratingly repetitive. It's a throwback war film of sorts not entirely dissimilar to last year's Lone Survivor, and while everyone's tolerance of watching a skilled sniper pick off targets for two-plus hours will vary, mine started to wane after a while. But there's still no denying the sequences are excitingly staged by Eastwood, who keeps the tension level consistently high.

Bradley Cooper doesn't have an easy job here in not only playing a recent real-life figure, but a quiet, intense guy whose lack of emotion is a prerequisite to him being as skilled as he is. There's never much emanating from Kyle, and if Eastwood is to be believed, little in the way of a personality either. That's a challenging character to center a movie around but Cooper meets the physical requirements by bulking up considerably, while also giving us all we need to know through his body language and subtle facial expressions during the tensest of circumstances. If you add up the lines of dialogue he has throughout the film it wouldn't be much because it simply isn't necessary. Kyle is a man who commands respect because of his actions and Cooper really captures that.

The strain on Kyle's marriage never carries the emotional resonance it should and part of that problem stems from the fact that Taya is treated as almost a whiny, superfluous diversion that pops up in between tours. It's easy to just lay all the blame on Eastwood or screenwriter Jason Hall for an underwritten, borderline misoginistic character, but Sienna Miller doesn't do herself any favors by acting with a capital "A" in all her emotionally charged scenes. Something about the performance just rubbed me the wrong way, as I never bought that I was watching Taya Kyle so much as a Hollywood actress shoehorned into a stock role of the distraught wife. While much has been made of the noticeable plastic baby used in the now infamous nursery scene, that actually stuck out less to me than Miller's frequently grating work.

The biggest question mark going into the film wasn't how Eastwood would navigate the tricky minefield of Chris Kyle's story, but how he'd address the bizarre circumstances surrounding his eventual death. It's the only detail that doesn't feel widely known, even if the actual event is drenched in the cruelest of ironies. Eastwood mostly chooses not to dwell on it, save for a very brief scene at the end that doesn't really work due to a lingering, ill-advised facial expression by Miller that inexplicably implies Taya foresaw his death. While holding back was probably the respectful thing to do, it does seem as if an intriguing commentary surrounding its irony was left on the table. Much like Kyle's life, the film doesn't end so much as suddenly stop, with a certain comfort in knowing he finally found his calling and purpose in helping other veterans.

What's interesting is that given how mixed a bag the film is it's mostly being attacked for all the things Eastwood gets right and his intentions in making it. It's revealing how few complaints center around the actual content. That it's about an important subject aimed at an arguably underserved audience might be the best thing American Sniper has going for it. It delivers all the tension the trailer promises, but the real surprise might be how little we actually learn about Chris Kyle. By the time the credits silently rolled, I was left strangely unfulfilled, but respectfully impressed.
      

American Hustle

Director: David O. Russell
Starring: Christian Bale, Bradley Cooper, Amy Adams, Jeremy Renner, Jennifer Lawrence, Louis C.K., Jack Huston, Michael Pena, Shea Whigham 
Running Time: 138 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

My immediate reaction after the final credits rolled on American Hustle was that it was a "fun time." But I can't help but think whether that response would been different had I not known the film received ten Oscar nominations, including all four acting categories and Best Picture. Almost needless to say, expectations were pretty high for what ends up being the weakest film in David O. Russell's comeback trilogy, which includes The Fighter and Silver Linings Playbook. While much more of a mixed bag than either, what's most surprising is how light and fluffy it is. It's basically an all-out comedic farce that's more entertaining than expected, but also far less substantial. It's loosely based on a real FBI Abscam sting operation in the 1970's but it isn't a biographical drama of any sort and certainly won't be mistaken for Argo anytime soon. The script almost seems to be making a complete mockery of the story which hardly matters since the real draw here is the acting, with costuming and (sometimes overbearing) soundtrack choices trailing not too far behind. With a less talented director and cast it's easy to imagine this being a disaster. Actually, it's still kind of a disaster. Just a really wild and fun one.

It's 1978 when con artist Irving Rosenfeld (Christian Bale) meets Sydney Prosser (Amy Adams) at a party in New Jersey and the two embark on a personal and professional relationship in which Sydney (posing as English aristocrat "Lady Edith Greensly") start running loan scam. When their latest mark turns out to be undercover FBI agent Richie DiMaso (Bradley Cooper), they're recruited by him to help with four stings in exchange for their release. But Sydney has other plans, getting romantically close to Richie to manipulate him as a jealous Irving stands on the sidelines. How much of this plan and her feelings morph into reality is a question that hovers in the air up until the end. Richie's biggest sting involves entrapping Camden Mayor Carmine Polito (Jeremy Renner), who's attempting to raise funds to revitalize gambling in Atlantic City. This sets in motion a convoluted plot involving a fake Arab sheikh, a secret wire transfer and the mob. But Irving's most dangerous problem is his stay-at- home wife Rosalyn (Jennifer Lawrence), a certifiable loose cannon who's no dummy. She knows something's up, and that knowledge could tear this operation and their family apart.

Remember that scene in The Wolf of Wall Street when Jordan Belfort turns to the camera and tells us he did a lot of illegal stuff but won't waste time boring us with the details? That's American Hustle in a nutshell. If there were a pop quiz on all the double crosses, fake-outs or even just the basic mechanics of the plot, it's an exam many wouldn't pass. And yet Russell manages to make it completely beside the point, instead focusing on the interplay between these wild characters, each seemingly crazier than the next. Clearly, the major plotline has less to do with Abscam than the love triangle involving Irving, Sydney and Richie, even if there are points where we doubt it can be considered a love triangle since the characters are all playing each other. The whole movie functions as one giant scam with everyone wearing masks at various points.

The two best performances come belong to the women, with Adams showing a side of herself as an actress we've never quite seen before, turning in her most intense work since The Fighter. Tough, but emotionally damaged goods, Sydney knows she's battling for more than to just stay out of jail by pulling off this scam. She wants prominence in Irving's life, ahead of his wife and son and is willing to use the hapless Agent DiMaso to do it. If some people are smarter than they look, Richie DiMaso is definitely not one of those people, falling for Sydney's hustle (and cleavage baring attire) hook, line, and sinker. He's also somehow target a legitimately honest politician and all-around great guy for his sting. In fact, Renner makes Carmine so selfless and likable in what should be the sleaziest of roles, that it's  impossible for the audience not to resent DiMaso for deceiving him. But Cooper gives him this helplessly pathetic quality of a man struggling to move up the bureau ladder and win a woman he thinks he's in love with, but really doesn't know at all. His hapless superior (played hilariously by Louis C.K.) is literally the only character who is worse off or commands less respect.

Holding the whole film (and his hairpiece) together is Bale, the real brains behind the operation, which isn't saying much. With a hideous wardrobe and a huge gut, few would be able to recognize the actor, and when they do, even fewer would believe he was capable of being this funny. So misguided and self-absorbed, Irving destroys the one relationship he has that means anything to him: His friendship with Carmine. It's possibly the only scam he's ever felt guilty about.  He spends most of the movie in a complete panic, as would anyone married to Jennifer Lawrence's Roselyn, the only character not at all like the rest.

On paper, Lawrence again seems completely miscast in a role meant for an older actress, only to respond by stealing the movie with a performance that starts as fully comedic before moving into some darker territory by the last act. In a picture where it's tough to take anything or anyone seriously, she uses limited screen time to turn what could easily have been a one joke character into a real force deserving of audience sympathy. That's a tight rope to walk and while all the hype and praise surrounding Lawrence has been exhausting, she proves again with her work that it's deserved. Her intense sing-a-long to Wings' "Live and Let Die" is a particular standout. Unfortunately, an uncredited Robert DeNiro turns in a comedic cameo as--you guessed it--a mobster. Ugh.  He also appears at just the point where the film starts getting a little overstuffed, making his shoehorned arrival feel especially unnecessary.

While it's clear Russell has a love for the period and certain details are deadly accurate, there's rarely any doubt he enjoys laughing at it also. As do we. If he was going for a Scorsese vibe, what transpires on screen often comes across as a comedic spoof of that. Call it "Scorsese Lite." Was that intentional? Does it even matter? All I know is that the whole thing is a lot funnier than most would have you believe. About halfway through you just forget everything and revel in the zany antics of these characters and enjoyable performances. If the developments were treated more seriously it might have been a better movie, but I'm not sure it would have been nearly as entertaining or interesting. This is about watching talented actors at the top of their game successfully disappearing into their crazy roles. Even the characters seem to forget about their own story on occasion. American Hustle might be all over the place, but it's most successful when not taking itself too seriously and functioning as a bizarre character study. Luckily, that's most of the time.    
     

The Place Beyond The Pines

Director: Derek Cianfrance
Starring: Ryan Gosling, Bradley Cooper, Eva Mendes, Ray Liotta, Ben Mendelsohn, Rose Byrne, Dane DeHaan, Emory Cohen, Mahershala Ali, Bruce Greenwood, Harris Yulin
Running Time: 140 min.
Rating: R  

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

                             **Spoiler Warning: This Review Reveals Major Plot Points**  

Almost halfway through The Place Beyond the Pines a title card appears on the screen that reads: 15 YEARS LATER. It's certainly not the first instance of a massive time jump during a film, but what makes this different is the anticipation level. I can't recall a time where I ever wanted to know more about the events that would follow that title screen, as my heart was practically pounding out of my chest. What director and co-writer Derek Cianfrance accomplishes in his sophomore feature is what most filmmakers aspire to get right. Unlike anything released in the past year, it's wildly ambitious and uncompromising, spinning a multi-generational epic that seems destined for cult classic status, if not greater. For almost two and a half hours it remains tight, focused, and unfussy even as tells three intrinsically connected stories that somehow isn't based on a published novel or true crime story, despite feeling so every step of the way.

I've gone back and forth on whether to reveal the big plot point at the movie's crux and determined it's necessary in fully explaining the film's tragic pull. If you don't want to know, it's best you STOP READING NOW and return after you've seen it. While the development is undeniably a shocker, the plot development cuts deeper far than that, exceeding a simple "twist.". Killing the protagonist off halfway through the picture is brave, and while it's been successfully accomplished before, it's impossible to name an instance involving not only this huge a star, but the actor being sold as the face of the picture. Of course, that creative decision alone isn't necessarily worthy of praise. There has to be something to it and it must be a narrative necessity.

Here, the main character perishes because his reckless lifestyle and behavior was bound to eventually lead him there. And also because he has to. This is a film that understands consequences and how decisions and actions reverberate beyond those who are immediately affected to sometimes cross over generations. In this case, from fathers to sons. It's interested in the consequences of death and what that means to those left to pick up the pieces. So, yes, the protagonist is killed off an hour in, but for the remaining time it never once feels like he's gone. It's only through death that the character ends up pushing the story into a far larger context that wouldn't otherwise be possible.

Ryan Gosling is motorcycle stunt rider Luke Glanton, who travels the country performing in circuses without ever really laying down roots anywhere. His latest stop is Schnechtady, New York, where he reconnects with single mother Romina (Eva Mendes), a waitress worn out and beaten down by life. They previously had a fling and now he's discovered her baby boy, Jason, is his. Despite her moving on with boyfriend Kofi (Mahershala Ali), Luke's determined to stick around town to do the right thing and help provide for his son. He takes a job with local auto repair shop owner Robin (Ben Mendolsohn) but his minimum wage salary isn't cutting it, leading the two to pair up and successfully rob some banks in the area.

It isn't long before Luke's worst tendencies grab hold, with his volatile temper threatening to keep him  from his son and his daredevil desire to hit more banks increasing. Robin warns him, "If you ride like thunder, you're gonna crash like lightning." He ends up being right, as Luke's recklessness sets him on a collision course with Officer Avery Cross (Bradley Cooper), creating a situation where only one can escape alive.

The opening hour just might contain the best work Gosling's ever done, which is scary when you consider the ground that covers within the past few years and the fact it's actually a SUPPORTING performance. That it can be said with absolute confidence that the character he creates is as instantly iconic as his unnamed getaway driver in Drive is no small praise, especially considering the surface similarities between the two. We know we're in for something special from the film's sensational opening sequence, as the camera follows Luke from behind into the carnival arena like a cage fighter entering the octagon. He puts on his signature ripped Metallica shirt, which, as James Franco pointed out, already seems like Gosling's new scorpion jacket. And I completely agree with Franco that the character ascends to and owns rebel status within minutes of appearing, before even speaking a word of dialogue.

Luke's an adrenaline junkie who can't control his lapses of slow, simmering rage, but he's also trying to do the right thing and be there for his son in a way he claims his father wasn't for him. It's a sadly prophetic desire, as the harder he tries to do the right thing, the deeper a hole he digs for himself doing wrong. He's doomed and doesn't even know it, pushing for reconciliation with Romina that can't possibly happen regardless of whether a child is in the equation or not. And the more it can't happen, the more he pushes. Boundaries don't exist for Luke, on a bike or in life.

His boss Robin makes the mistake of dangling the carrot of criminality in front of the last type of personality who can handle it. Ben Mendelsohn specializes in playing low-life creeps. At first glance it seems as if Robin is exactly that, but he's not. I love that Mendelsohn plays him as essentially a good guy who went down the wrong path and now just seems bored to tears. He comes across as more of a benevolent mentor and friend than corrupting influence, even if a strong argument can still be made for the latter. When he realizes the monster he's awakened in Luke, he lazily tries to stop it but can't even really muster enough energy to do that. It's too late anyway. There could be a whole other movie about just Robin and I wouldn't complain, but the performance deems it unnecessary, giving us everything we need about his character while withholding what we don't.

When these two are flying high together, so is the film, as the entire opening hour is an addictive rush, filled with images, quotable lines and events destined to burn into my consciousness with Mike Patton's mesmerizing score as the soundtrack. Cianfrance really engulfs the viewer and while this is unquestionably a heightened depiction of Schenectady, accentuating both the city's positive and negative attributes, it's far from an inaccurate one considering it was actually filmed on location. From the few who have seen this, the biggest criticism has been that it suffers after Gosling exits, with the last two thirds of the picture paling in comparison to the first. But I'd argue Luke Glanton's legend only grows after his departure, infusing the rest of the story a larger scope and even greater momentum as everyone is left to pick up the pieces of the damage he's left.

The Bradley Cooper section of the saga is every bit as gripping, while still continuing and finishing what was started. While Officer Avery Cross gets his man and is justifiably hailed by the media as a hero for taking out Luke, it's not that simple. Besides being treated like garbage by his superior and fellow officers, his career's essentially over due to the shootout. That his wife Jennifer (Rose Byrne) and father Al (Harris Yulin) never wanted him to be a cop in the first place is only salt in the wound. But Avery's hardest on himself, wracked with guilt over the fact that he killed a boy's father, emotionally paralyzing him to the point that he can't even look at his own baby boy.

Anyone still doubting last year's discovery of Cooper as a major acting talent or writing it off as just lucking into the right part, should take a look at what he does here, with his most complicated role yet. What's so pitiful about Avery is that, despite the mildly controversial details involving the shooting, he really is a hero who was forced to take the action he did. Cooper plays him at first as kind of a dim bulb, until we slowly realize, with his back against the wall, that he's actually very smart and cunning. He's forced to
be.

Ray Liotta has played a lot of corrupt scumbags in his career but his Peter Deluca just might take the cake. It's a compliment to him that it's hard to think of a more recent movie character I've hated more. I hated the condescending way he talked to Avery. I hated the way he talked to Avery's wife even more. I hated his greediness. Every time this guy speaks it's infuriating, which is exactly what a great villain who gets under your skin should do. Cianfrance takes the well worn plot mechanism of police corruption and makes it fresh and gripping, raising it to the level of Greek tragedy in terms of how it affects all involved, especially those on the periphery.

That Gosling and Cooper never share a scene together and yet the film somehow still feels like their two and a half hour grudge match is a testament speaks not only to their performances, but the rich characterization provided by the script. There's this faint undercurrent running throughout that if Luke and Avery hadn't been on opposite sides of the law then they could have possibly gotten along under different circumstances. That hunch is confirmed in the third act, culminating in a final showdown that can only occur through their sons. And both are very much their father's sons and a product of those events 15 years earlier.

Try as his mother might to keep it from him, you could see how a teen Jason (Dane DeHaan) would want to eventually learn what he could about his biological father. And you could also see how when he finds out about his dad's infamous "motobike bandit," past, that he'd find it really cool and want to know more. At an age where nothing makes sense and there's very little sense of identity, that's a big thing. And it makes sense that path would have to cross with Avery's son, AJ (Emory Cohen). It's not a contrivance. Just a tightly constructed story having its last screw turned. And what a final act it is. It's here where the highly ambitious three-act structure starts to make a lot more sense and all the cards fall into place

Thanks to DeHaan and Cohen's powerfully believable turns there's never any doubt they're the sons of these men despite the lack of any noticeable physical resemblance.DeHaan plays Jason as a sad, quite loner with a short temper while Cohen's AJ has a huge chip on his shoulder, appearing at first to be every bit the thug you'd expect given the years of neglect from his dad. Like their fathers, they're much more alike than different, as both actors transcend those one line descriptions to deliver something deeper and more meaningful. They're also headed for a collision course, finishing the business their dads started, whether they know it or not.

That storytelling this ambitious and expansive could be accomplished on a relatively small budget isn't all that surprising when you consider the ingenuity of the director behind it. Cianfrance's previous collaboration with Gosling, Blue Valentine, stands as one of the few recent films that's grown substantially in stature for me since I first viewed it.  It's a bit more free flowing and messier than this, but contains the same general thematic framework of damaged people as products of unstable families. He just understands what makes his characters tick and knows how to present it onscreen in the most insightful, realistic way possible.

Repeat viewings could easily present the already gripping first hour in a new light knowing what eventually follows. Much like what Affleck did with Boston, Cianfrance turns Schenectady into his personal wasteland of corruption and immorality, where the setting informs the film as much as its characters. If merely the thought of recasting the roles didn't seem to border on sacrilege, there's enough depth and richness here to sustain a long-running television series, with writing and directing that can actually match what we've been seeing now in that medium. With as much ground as this covers, it still even feels like there's more. The Place Beyond The Pines is an epic crime drama that isn't about crime, reminding us that the best ones rarely are.         

Hit and Run

Directors: David Palmer and Dax Shepard
Starring: Dax Shepard, Kristen Bell, Kristin Chenoweth, Tom Arnold, Bradley Cooper, Ryan Hansen, Michael Rosenbaum, Beau Bridges, Joy Bryant, David Koechner
Running Time: 100 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Whenever seeing anything involving the Federal Witness Protection Program I always think back to that episode of The Simpsons when Homer wore and hat and shirt that read: "WITNESS PROTECTION PROGRAM." The main character in the action crime comedy Hit and Run would probably wear something like that, not out of stupidity, but just out of exhaustion from hiding for so long. He's played by Dax Shepard, who also wrote and co-directed with David Palmer what turns out to be something rare nowadays. A smart, funny, edgy and exciting mainstream comedy that marches to the beat of its own drum. That he's the brains behind this might be surprising to some, but not to anyone who's seen NBC's Parenthood where he consistently crushes it as a key player each week. Now with this, it seems his talents extend behind the camera as well, but it's still hard not to be at least a little surprised the movie works this well and that he's actually leading man material on the big screen. Besides utilizing a terrific cast well, he's also written for his real-life girlfriend Kristen Bell her strongest post-Veronica Mars role yet and one that brings all her strengths as a performer to center stage again. Which makes sense. You'd figure if anyone could figure out how to do it, it's him. I know I'm supposed to dislike the guy, but he's sure making it really difficult.
  
Robbery accomplice "Charlie Bronson" (Shepard), has been spending the past four years in Milton, California under protection and monitored by clumsy, incompetent and trigger happy U.S. Marshal Randy (Tom Arnold). He lives with his fairly new girlfriend, Annie (Bell), a professor at the local college who holds a doctorate in "Non-Violent Conflict Resolution" from Stanford and has just been informed by her kooky boss Debbie (Kristin Chenoweth) of an opportunity to head up her own department in Los Angeles.Only there's a problem: Charlie can't legally leave and her hilariously sleazy, overprotective ex-boyfriend Gil (Michael Rosenbaum) will do it whatever it takes to stop them, even enlisting the help of his gay police officer brother Terry (Jess Rowland) and recruiting the dangerous Alexander Dimitri (Bradley Cooper), one of the defendants Charlie testified against who's hell bent on evening the score. With Charlie driving his suped up, restored Cadillac, he and Annie are suddenly on the run from not only Dimitri, but Charlie's sordid past, the exact nature of which Annie remains in the dark about. Now besides Annie getting to her interview on time, both have to worry about even making it to L.A. alive.

Don't be fooled by the generic title. As far as action comedies go, this is better than most, with a clever script packed with jokes and smart dialogue that rarely miss the mark. Much of why everything works can be attributed to the fact that while the characters are colorful and their actions often unrealistically preposterous, it's kind of strangely grounded in a reality we can relate to. Shepard crafts a screenplay that captures the way people talk to one another, with the style of humor almost Seinfeld or Arrested Development-like in how ridiculously relatable it is and that's evident in almost every conversation between Charlie and Annie. They actually seem like a real couple who talk how real couples talk and joke and argue about things real couples do. Of course the joke there is that Bell and Shepard actually are one but that has absolutely nothing to do with the writing. And we've definitely seen more than a few off screen partners fizzle on screen due to a lack of chemistry so the pairing was far from a guaranteed success, even on paper. But they make the snappy dialogue come alive, sharing a natural back and forth that feels distinctively authentic and unforced. An argument about the ethics of using the word "fag" is surprisingly interesting and funny in their capable hands as is a scene in which Charlie explains to her how he decided on the manly "Charles Bronson" name.

From its opening minutes it's obvious this diverges from your usual comedies, taking its time getting where it needs to go, to the point that the real action doesn't really start to kick in until the third act. But by then we're so invested in these crazy characters we're practically on the edge of our seats waiting to see it resolve. The car chase sequences (and there are three notable ones) set to a solid soundtrack are a welcome respite from the CG enhanced chases we're used to and a throwback to when actual cars were driven by real people in movies. They're well choreographed and exciting, but more importantly, it's easy to follow what's happening and they exist for reasons that aid the story. But if I had to choose, the relationship arc works better as the film's surprisingly at its best when in full rom-com road trip mode. Shepard and Bell are just that good together. Annie's pacifist approach to solving conflicts makes for some really funny scenes opposite the quick-tempered, impatient Charlie and it feels like an even exchange. The two actors are really co-leads in this, which isn't a claim you can often make in mainstream comedies.

Physically, Shepard may not exactly fit the standard definition of your typical movie star, but here he transcends his supporting roots to carrying an entire full-length feature with offbeat charm and likability. Playing straight man to all the comic chaos unfolding around him he shows off a considerable amount of versatility, successfully fluctuating between the more broadly comic material of the film's first half and the off-the-wall intensity and violence of the second. He's a perfect match with Bell, whose performance in this couldn't have possibly come at a better time, reminding us what she's capable of with engaging material. It's something she hasn't been given in the past six years as this script gives her the opportunity to show off the quick, witty one-liners and smart delivery that originally caused TV audiences to originally fall so hard for her. It's fair to say after some dicey choices in projects, her future prospects have suddenly improved in a big way just within the past month with the announcement of the Veronica Mars movie so it'll be intriguing to see her try to capitalize on it. This role proves everyone right that she's got what it takes to succeed on the big screen, but who could have guessed that Shepard of all people would, quite literally, be the driving force who brings it out?   

The rest of the cast is uniformly excellent, especially a dreadlocked, pre-Silver Linings Bradley Cooper as Dimitri, who has a scene involving the purchase of dog food that's funnier than it has any right being. Tom Arnold turns in his most inspired comedic work since, well, True Lies, as clumsy U.S. Marshal Randy. The character isn't necessarily important, but he's likable and unannoying, with Arnold nailing every scene he's in. It appears Shepard pretty much just cast all his friends in this (right down to Parenthood's Joy Bryant as Dimitri's girlfriend and Veronica Mars' Ryan Hansen as a bank robber) but he made the right choices since they all do as good a job as possible in roles they're obviously well suited for.

In a perfect movie world more audiences would have heard about this and it would have done better, yet it's easy to understand why it didn't. It would be difficult for marketing to convey what a neat genre hybrid it is, and the plot and cast, outside of possibly Cooper (and even that was doubtful at the time), wouldn't exactly inspire confidence at first glance. It's one of those "under the radar" surprises that needed word of mouth to get people to check it out, but if they do now, they'll be shocked just how funny it is. There was hardly a moment where I wasn't smiling or laughing. Judging from what's in theaters it isn't easy writing and co-directing a creatively successful action comedy, not to mention a frequently funny one in which you're the lead. That Shepard can do this better than most his first time out is the biggest surprise. While he's actually believable as a motorhead action star, his true strength might lie in writing and directing romantic comedies he can headline with Bell. It's a partnership already off to a strong start.