Reviews

It made me laugh at the hypocrisy and homophobia in Hollywood. Silly to pretend that anything has changed. Orry-Kelly was a survivor. He kept coming back to top himself. There is a great deal to learn in how he dressed Bette Davis in Now Voyager to suit the scene and the mood. As Jane Fonda said, how wonderful that Orry-Kelly designed outfits to help actors get more in character. His close friendships with very private careful people tells me he was a man of character..

I love good movies. This wasn't quite one. I love great acting between seasoned and new pros. This was full of shivers. Ellen Burstyn (she still lives here) and Jon Hamm (no longer just a pretty face) at the pawn shop. Bruce Dern's pauses and smiles are still tops (the old track star's still got it). Sadly, no Dern/Burstyn scenes (since 1972?) . Hamm and James LeGros ( super good) with stupendously blowsy and full-blown Catherine Keener (who knew, when she finally let go?). Not sure about the epic preceding review but if you want to see old and new pros in action, directed with care and excellence, see this. And take as many old people as you can find. They'll put you in their wills.

Frankly, I was upset when Annette Bening did such great work in 20th Century Women, which a few of you saw, and wasn't nominated for an Oscar. Once upon a time in movies, people related to one another in funny, sad and flawed human ways. That was 20th Century Women and Ms. Bening was pushed out at Oscar time by that beloved film icon nominated for yowling and singing painfully off key. A travesty. Booray for Hollywood. Assessing no blame to our nameless beloved scenery chewer because she can't help getting nominated for merely belching, with or without an accent. Now, having been swept away by Film Stars Don't Die In Liverpool, I'm not upset anymore. Ms Bening and Jamie Bell had me at "How do I look?" Tough cookie 50's film star Gloria Grahame stumbled through her life without much love or tenderness. With Jamie Bell's character Peter Turner, she not only found them but allowed them for a little while. I wanted to be there for every moment Gloria and much younger Peter were together. Throw in Julie Walters as Peter's mum, Vanessa Redgrave as Gloria's mom, and, no-slouch-she Frances Barber as Gloria's jealous toxic sister, and you've got a jewel of a film that may or may not get the recognition it deserves. But I've got my memories of the great Julie Walters, as Peter's Mum, crushing me simply saying "time to let go of her, son," and Gloria with her life scars and Peter trying to make it all better for her. And he does. Hollywood can't hurt me or Gloria anymore. She has passed on and my illusions about talent and fine work being rewarded are gone. It could happen though that Ms. Bening, like Elizabeth Taylor before her, gets her Oscar one year and one film later. This time, if it happens, it will be given for this year's best performance by an actress. Because. trust me, it is.

The movie greats should never grow old so they can use what they've learned to keep making swell movies for us like Rules Don't Apply.

Mr. Beatty is of course unique. He does it all and had time for enviable fun during his prolonged adolescence and now with his formidable spouse Annette Bening. They were easy and fun with one another at today's screening. Smart attractive very talented grownups. Yes, they still exist.

Rules Don't Apply is very funny, if you pay attention. Old Hollywood gets the shiv a bit but it's awfully nice to be back there. We luxuriate in vintage cars and clothes and 50s sexual puritanism. The leads are, as Mr. Beatty said today, honorable actors with integrity. Nothing cheap or careless. We root for Alden Ehrenreich and Lily Collins. Miss Bening is funny and tough as the ingenue's zealot Mom. A ton of familiar faces get their moment. Apparently they like to work for Mr. Beatty. His mind goes faster than almost anyone's making movies so it's fun and satisfying to be swept along by his brilliance. As I watch the world around me lowering its standards, I bask in the depth of talent and pure entertainment in Rules Don't Apply. More please.

I've seen Meryl Streep and Robert DeNiro carry movies on their talented shoulders. Long movies. Intense movies. From start to finish. It seemed they did it with ease or at least made it appear that way. And then it would be time for nominations and they were on all those lists and sometimes won and I never thought much about it. Great actors. Seasoned entertainers I think they call them.

The other night I saw A Monster Calls. It was a long movie. An intense movie. A dazzling pull out all the stops from start to finish movie. About having hope, losing hope and grief and bravery and stumbling through fear and uncertainty. Incredible art work and special effects and great cast and script and and yet it rested on the not so broad or grownup shoulders of 14 year old Lewis McDougall. Lewis McDougall took us with him on his incredible journey. We worried, we shared his frustration and anger and loneliness. We rooted desperately for him against all odds. Lewis McDougall. Not a seasoned performer at 14. This was his second or third film. And he never hit a wrong note. How, I wondered, could he be doing this? Where is it coming from? I staggered out and thought, "How does Lewis McDougall at least not get nominated for an Oscar. And when he does, who will beat him?"

People in the Northeast take their time. This movie takes its time. I guess Casey Affleck is a movie star now. He holds it all together and keeps punching.... literally. He does complexity with every man simplicity and takes us along for his bumpy ride. Substance and style. He lets us into his character and we have mixed emotions about him just like he does. Michelle Williams disappears into every role. A face to launch a thousand scripts. I was thinking of Geraldine Page before her. Another actor/scientist who formulates until we can't tell she's acting. Lucas Hedges was super, transparent and endearing. Young talent aplenty. The chemistry, real or imagined, was due to the talented cast and fine-tuned script by a man who takes his time putting his plays and films together, the wordsmith Kenneth Lonergan. In awe of the talent and dedication in Manchester By The Sea. Fingers crossed at awards time.

If this were a bigger movie, Molly Shannon might soon be getting a few Big League nominations. She might anyway. Who expected Sally O'Malley to inhabit a fully formed married Sacramento mom of three older children, dying of cancer? Miss Shannon is funny and painful and riveting to watch as she shows us her love and rage and pride in her kids and worry about their future, and frustration with her failing body and nice clueless husband, and her wish to just sometimes give up and die already. It takes a deeply skilled actor to hide nothing, be still, and let the camera have it's way with you. Who knew? She gets a lot of help from Jesse Plemons as her struggling gay son David who is hurting from his own heavy baggage. Mr. Plemons' face is our guide to this family, not acting, just letting us tag along and marvel at his devotion to his sick Mom.

A terrific young group of fun talented stars of tomorrow fill in the family and church and choir and other Sacramentoes and the likes of Paul Dooley, June Squibb, Bradley Whitford and an Apatow kid make Director Chris Kelly's already superb script better.

Funny laugh out loud bits and great private one-on-ones that don't feel rushed. No sitcom feel or fake intimacy in Other People. These people matter to one another.

Other People brought back for me those intimate moments in Carmela Soprano's kitchen when another complicated family was trying to have closeness and understanding at the dinner table. Aren't we all?

"Words! Words! Words! We didn't need words then. We had FACES," Forgotten Silent Screen Star Norma Desmond rages on in "Sunset Blvd." Norma knew!

Louder Than Bombs is about a family wanting to be together and wanting to be left alone. Norma would be pleased. It has FACES! Gabriel's, Isabelle's, Jesse's, Devin's, David's, Amy's and Megan's. An acting ensemble as good as David O. Russell's without the Botox of Big Fame. Director Joachim Trier likes FACES and understands and loves complicated families. Mr. Trier lets us be a part of this one.

Isabelle Huppert is their beautiful flawed dead Mom. I was worried I wouldn't see enough of her great real face, but she was the family nucleus, loved, missed, needed, and in the way. Gabriel Byrne is the loving, screwing-up Dad, a not-too-bright ex-actor with bad instincts toward his career and his wife and sons. Jesse Eisenberg (who gets quieter and deeper in each part and says "interesting" better than anybody)and Devin Druid (oh boy, watch out!) both damaged by Mom and Dad's fear and selfishness, are older and younger brothers. You must see these fine young actors before they disappear into Hero Wear and computer graphics.

Louder Than Bombs is brilliant hard work. The viewer is allowed to feel fear, resentment, rage, selfishness, heartache and love. And laugh. Remember those? See it.

The Clooney crotch shots were worth the price of admission. Big hairy toga clad thighs splayed in every shot. Josh Brolin's guilt-ridden Eddie Mannix studio fixer was as deadpan as they come. When his priest had finally say "My son, you're coming to Confession too much," Eddie asks the priest for job advice through the confessional booth.

I wanted more of Ralph, Scarlett and Alden, Jonah, Tilda and Frances (no last names please). Don't know how Frances will top CC, the film editor. Wonder how many left the theater not knowing it was her.

Channing Tatum has become our new omnisexual leading man. No worries about his image or else he has the best microadvisers on the planet.

I was often the lonely laugher at my sparce advance screening when every scene was full of gut-busting yuks for those movie-goers who cared to make the evening about the movie and not about them. One lady up above, instead of laughing, kept saying in a Bronx accent. "Look at thaaat!" We were. We were.

See what the Coen Brothers hath wroth. And try and catch all the inside stuff. I missed some and have to see it again preferably with my tribe of real movie lovers. Be nice to a movie star today.

Silly to try and review Maggie Smith. As the very engaging Alex Jennings said at a Q and A I attended, nobody has the acting toolbox of Dame Maggie. He also cracked me up. Funny talented fellow. They made the movie at Alan Bennett's old house in his posh old neighborhood. With the van in the driveway and all the garbage bags, the older neighbors who remembered the smelly eyesore thought she had come back. Okay, so there are slow times here and there. After glimpsing Dame Maggie coasting a bit in that endless Abbey thing, she breaks out her chops here for real. The supporting cast are the Who's Who of British players. Anything for Sir Nicholas. A Master Class, if anyone out there still wants to laugh, cry and learn from the best.

From the beginning when the dick Steve Carell played began speaking, I was with the movie until the end. Best Steve Carell I've seen. No winking. Wanted to smash him. Toni Collette, Amanda Peet and Allison Janney, three seriously talented women together, each with developed characters. And still no winking. Lucas the 14 year old was all of us when we felt different, lonely, hopeless and helpless. Every featured kid at Water Wizz was a person. Sam Rockwell seems to be ad-libbing but the script was so precise and perfect, I don't think so. He gets better and better. Everybody else, including the writer/directors who were also in the film seemed just rightly cast. No wasted words and no assumptions. Wow, a film with respect for the characters, the audience and for movies. Cooltoes!

Very 1960's with mid-century houses and Hollywood Hills and convertibles and Elke and her life-like body on display. Easy to see why Glenn put up with her extravagance and even her unfaithfulness. The surprise was a used-up, doomed Rita Hayworth, better than Sadie, better than "Fire Down Below." While nobody would believe that Rita was really a down on her luck waitress, she played her exhaustion and disillusionment with the world and especially with men better than any Method actress. Her scenes with Glenn Ford were genuine chemistry between two old friends with loyalty and affection and honesty. And, in the 1960's, how many fifty year old down on her luck character actresses were shown "shacking up" with the star of the picture. Rita established her character so well that, when her sad end was talked about but not seen, it rang true. A real keeper, especially for the next Rita Retrospective.