Reviews

I stuck with this because of Ryan Reynolds, Melissa McCarthy and Elle Fanning, whose individual unity of mind/body/spirit and talent kept me from walking away in disgust. I was bothered the whole way by vague puzzles, but toward the end I started thinking about Ingmar Bergman, remembering his films, which I saw religiously beginning in 1958, when I was a first-year student at university.

The copy of "The Nines" available to me happens to have Swedish sub-titles, which felt very appropriate. I strongly suggest that the film deserves patience. Lord knows, the cinematography gives the viewer plenty to do while you sort out the annoying questions raised by sequence, characterization, and coy hints at numerological significance.

There is a unified sense of sincerity behind whatever-the-hell is going on. For all I know Hope Davis represented The Whore of Babylon--a very different persona from Tony Stark's doomed Mom in "Captain America: Civil War." In truth, I have to watch this move--"The Nines"--again. And because of it, I also have to re-view Bergman's work. For the moment, I take "The Nines" as a well-crafted exploration of anybody's reality, laid out by a cruelly meticulous storyteller. Beautifully acted--I remember thinking, "If these fine actors can be patient enough to make this film, I can be patient enough to watch it." And, as I said previously, I'll being in for another viewing. Have fun!!

"I suppose in all of us there's a trace of a mother complex." These thoughtful words of U.S. Army mule Francis ("That's spelled with an 'i'.") are an example of the charm of this Hollywood concoction. The voice of Chill Wills is deep and warm, just as the equine star's voice should be, and is equal to the deep voice of the Commanding General. Their scenes together late in the film pack a real punch. But meanwhile you have the 2nd Lieutenant Donald O'Connor, making frequent trips to the "Neuropsychiatric Ward"--having been befriended by Francis, and compelled by higher authorities to disclose that his source of military intelligence is a mule that talks. The war story is actually a story-within-a-story,told by O'Connor's character to his post-war employer, as he tries to save his job at the bank. This movie is well-paced and full of cheerful surprises. Zasu Pitts appears as a psychiatric nurse holding her own in an environment of half-baked military psychiatry. Choreography of encounters in Burmese jungle and on the army base moves smoothly and too soon it's a wrap. Hence several sequels.

Just because the show poops out after a few episodes doesn't mean I'm not watching the whole series. Matt Murdoch is particularly charming and compelling as a blind man with extraordinary senses otherwise. His sometime friend Claire is first-rate. Seeing Scott Glenn show up a "Stick" is a real hoot, and clearly there are intelligent surprises in store--if you're patient. Meanwhile, the minute Vincent D'Onofrio finally showed his face, I can't help seeing Annoying Orange on the screen. This problem I am hoping to exorcise by writing this review and trying to append a relevant image from YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t3vksVYHjJU

I had a hard time getting into the theatre for a film with such an unappealing premise. HOWEVER, I had to see the beloved, now iconic, Alan Rickman give his last film performance. And, while glad I saw the movie, in honor of him, and because there were several deeply moving, excellent, spot-on performances (especially Aaron Paul and Barkhad Abdi), I was unnecessarily distracted, even irritated by Helen Mirren's dialed-in performance, which included a great deal of pushing back her stylish forelock. Her work worthy of an over-intense ingénue or a jaded veteran actress. All the inner strength of her Prospero absent. C'mon! Mirren aside, what was a great moment (of many, many great moments)? The tension of the situation has continued to build, and the clock is ticking, when Jeremy Northam, sitting with the Ministry for Defense, takes off his jacket and reveals dark sweat stains in the armpits of his gorgeously, almost laughably fashionable blue shirt. Real sweat. Real fear. Real pain.

Other reviewers have covered the main points of this confused "comedy"/spy-mystery film very well. I would like to point out the particular insult to women and to the intelligence of both sexes in the Rosalind Russell role. It sapped the mystery of any believability--what War Department is the plaything of the daughter of its assistant secretary?? What woman could wander around in such self-centered oblivion to a war-time effort? William Powell is remarkable in his ability to carry off his role as her--huh?--husband-to-be. I mean, NOTHING bothers him. I am not so unflappable--Russell's character kept my teeth on edge throughout. Grrr. Why did I watch this chestnut? To see the beautiful Cesar Romero--that was the payoff. And the rip-off. In this movie the old saying is true: "The good die young." Virtually with the mention of his "mama" on his lips.

I wonder what my late Pop would have said about this movie. He joined the Border Patrol in 1940. I wonder if he could've sat through it. Probably not, but he would have loved some of the scenes. He would have loved the Mexican villages, the desert, Barry Pepper's parade-rest stance in the background during a law-officer scene. I personally detest the new Border Patrol hats. I guess they're practical. Ditto helicopters.

Chiming patrol car doors. Musical cell phones. The crunch of zucchini after casual sex. A small herd of goats. The indignities inflicted on beef cattle. Guns. Mops. Twilight. The mule. The motor coach. Rattle snakes and fire ants. The cafe and the cantina. These are parts of the complete universe of director Tommy Lee Jones. He knits his film story with a Kurosawa-like care.

I know Jones is proud of his own spoken Spanish and his sound track. He should also be proud of his work with Barry Pepper. Pepper's character Mike Norton comes out of Cincinnati with 21st Century American plastic values, still a kid, and kind of a mean kid at that. Is the secret to changing chickenshit to gold included in this story? Yes it is. Exposure to earth, sun, pain, kindness--being able to accept all these things.

On the DVD commentary, Jones says, "The tears aren't real--" Why does he deny the power of his own film like that? But, my Pop would understand--you can make a song or story so very beautiful, and then never let on that it's absolutely real, that you felt and knew those tender and unspeakably holy things. But, dude, that's how the change comes and why we don't all quit even before our short time on Earth is over.

Mughal-e-Azam may represent history both of India and of film but, as in any good tale, the tensions within and between the characters surprised me by being fresh and immediate. The sheer visual beauty was worth the full-price theatre ticket at a special showing in Richmond. I was a little skeptical beforehand about the colorization--but this is done lovingly as an art in itself and fully supportive of the cinematographic effects of the original filming. Completely enjoyed it! Also a source of pleasure: the traditional figures come to life, and the actors are committed to their characters with depth of sincerity that insures integrity of the story. Now--questions that came out of the theatre with me regarding justice: was it "might makes right"? Was there another justice than this tyrannic "scale" of the Emperor's? Does the Emperor reward the Sculptor to acknowledge a higher Cause, the "Emperor of Emperors"? Is his fatal role the reason the Sculptor (creator of true images) has no name? It was he who brought Amarkali into the court with a prophesy of what would come of it. While the Sculptor seems to be an arm of Fate, so the courtesan Bahar (deliciously played by Nigar Sultana) also administers Fate as she manipulates actions and outcomes. What will her reward be? Is there any other Justice than the Emperor's? Is her self-seeking malice considered so inevitable that Fate does not touch her, in turn? If my answers lie in further reading into these histories, so be it . . . In the meantime, the scenes of the movie play out in my mind as I wonder about fate, justice, and--of course--human love. After the movie, in the theatre lobby, a young woman spotted a mouse skittering from the auditorium across the lobby into a closet. I believe it was Sri Ganesha's vehicle.

An impassioned, possibly lunatic Aidan Quinn is cared for by his dead wife's sister (Courtney Cox) and her husband (Anthony LaPaglia). As he proceeds to break the 10 commandments, one by one, out of spite to God, he raises a lot of questions for those around him. And of course, since adultery is a no-no, we get a romance between Quinn and Cox. The big "deus ex machina" (wish i could italicize that for you) is a convenient hurricane. The ending is absolutely silly. I felt ripped off at every level. And this was because the opening and development, the acting, even the romance, had been well enough done to engage me at every level. The synagogue scene is riveting. The gun play is well timed. And then such an ending? At least we could have had something under water to put us in the mood . . . . and some character development for Cox.

This is a fascinating movie. Jason Alexander's character (Mauricio) is kind of like Iago in Macbeth; he has a sinister edge--widening his range as an actor--which is pivotal for the dark feelings, pain, sadness. The script lurches seeking resolution toward the end, but Gwyneth Paltrow and Jack Black are actors who can bring to life a tripped-out plot situation and give it human substance. For Ms. Paltrow, the acting challenge is formidable, and she brings it off with sensitivity. She had to, or no movie. The movie has left this writer thinking about reality (singular) and realities (plural). There is point-of-view, and there is what happens to a couple of chairs during restaurant scenes. Also, the movie illustrates how powerful each individual is in interactions with other individuals. The hero is the guy who manages self-awareness and responsibility.

The credits for this movie are very special/complex/enjoyable. Hence I missed the location note. To the message board, away!