Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri

Martin McDonagh's Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri opens on the titular structures, decrepit after years of neglect. Mildred Hayes (Frances McDormand) drives past them one day and she rents them out shortly after. Her purpose for them? To keep the investigation into her daughter's rape and murder alive.

Much like McDonagh's earlier works, Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri features both a pitch black sense of humor and loads of bloodshed. But more often than not, the latter actually has some relevance to the plot. The reason? It embodies the internalized anger of the story's characters.

And boy, is it angry. Like many non-American directors before him, McDonagh doesn't shy away from the fact that the land of opportunity isn't as ideal as it likes to depict itself as. It's a country of skewed priorities, and the face that it has to be pointed out says everything right there.

Also like McDonagh's previous films, the cast of Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri is a solid one. Alongside McDormand are the likes of Sam Rockwell, Woody Harrelson, Lucas Hedges, John Hawkes, Abbie Cornish, and Peter Dinklage. All are great (though Cornish is underused like she was in Seven Psychopaths) but this is McDormand's show easily.

Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri is certainly not for everyone. The matters of race, police brutality and moral redemption zigzag enough times between being the main focus and as a B-plot to make your head spin. On a writing standpoint it's all over the place but (some of) the actors keep it grounded.

My Rating: ****1/2

BOOK VS MOVIE: Call Me By Your Name

Romance and coming-of-age often go hand in hand, the reason being the simplest one: first love is incredibly potent. The exhilaration of feeling such a way for someone can be all-consuming, the desire of wanting the outside world to fade away as they're with their beloved. But no one ever stated that such a sensation would last.

But back to the topic at hand, usually these stories have a particular slant to them. Many times it's so younger audiences have something to relate to (though with movies, their ratings often omit such audiences from seeing them upon release). And sometimes such tales don't capture that euphoria of infatuation.

André Aciman's Call Me By Your Name especially expresses that hazy awareness. Set during a summer in Italy, its stream of consciousness narrative is told through the eyes of a professor's son as he becomes taken by one of his father's students. But will such feelings be reciprocated and if so, for how long?

With a script penned by James Ivory (whose film Maurice would make for a good companion piece), Luca Guadagnino's adaptation is as much of a dreamy sigh as what Aciman wrote. Bearing in mind the director's previous films, its lush elements are woven into a story that's as rich as it is sensual. The way body language is conveyed throughout is something most romances can only dream of achieving. (And oh, that final shot.)

So which is better: Aciman's novel or Guadagnino's film? Both depict the ache that comes from that sense of longing, that knowledge that you know what you want from your limited time on this earth. But as life itself proves time and time again, there's bound to be heartbreak amid those moments of happiness. (But it's always best to focus on the latter in times of trouble.)

What's worth checking out?: Both.

In the Fade

Early on in Fatih Akin's In the Fade, it's established that Katja Sekerci (Diane Kruger) has a charmed home life. Her husband is a reformed drug dealer (they were married when he was in prison) and they're raising a son together. Nothing could go wrong in Katja's eyes.

And then it does. A bomb goes off in front of her husband's office, killing him and their son. In her grief, Katja sinks into a dark depression. (She attempts suicide at one point.) Will she be able to find both justice and peace of mind?

Sure, we've seen countless depictions of life after loss before In the Fade. But what Akin chronicles is decidedly much darker than, say, Manchester by the Sea. (Then again, it is a German production...)

Kruger -- best known to many from Inglourious Basterds and the National Treasure movies -- makes her German-language debut in In the Fade. While she has gotten acclaim for her work here (she won Best Actress at Cannes), admittedly it's for a role we've seen done many times before.

In the Fade takes itself a bit too seriously to stay watchable. There are some good elements, granted, but they don't always mesh together well. Kruger is good but hopefully she'll get a better leading role soon in a more deserving picture. (She's certainly earned it.)

My Rating: ***1/2

The Florida Project

Childhood is something that's often cherished. Many times, however, the ugliness of what happens in that short period of life doesn't get highlighted in fiction. (The nostalgia filter is often quite effective to some people.)

Sean Baker's The Florida Project is a recent depiction of this time in life. Following Moonee (Brooklynn Prince) as she causes havoc, it's set at a hotel on the outskirts of Disney World. Her mother Halley (Bria Vinaite) more or less lets her runs unsupervised with her friends. Both causes headaches for hotel manager Bobby Hicks (Willen Dafoe) but how long until reality sets in for them?

Like his previous film Tangerine, Bakers focuses on an overlooked section of society in The Florida Project with the aid of newcomers in the main roles. (Perhaps a recurring theme for his later works too?) Eschewing the glamour of the average film and its process, he's obviously more interested in those who've tried to achieve the American dream and failed.

And similar to Tangerine, The Florida Project has its ancillary characters have as much personality as the lead ones. (Only good writers make sure of doing that, and thankfully Baker is one such person.) This isn't just about Moonee and her antics; it's also about the people she encounters.

The Florida Project continues to prove Baker's worth as a director. With his two most recent films, he avoids any flashy elements usually found in your standard Hollywood picture in order to stay modest with his work and humble in his storytelling methods. Hopefully his career stays on this trajectory in the years to come. (It's not too much of a stretch to say Baker's shaping up to be the next John Cassavetes, is it?)

My Rating: ****1/2

Down with Love

The very moment Peyton Reed's Down with Love begins, it's clear that it'll be a pastiche of the many romantic comedies of the 50s and early 60s. (It uses the 20th Century Fox logo from that time.) And that's only the start of it.

As Barbara Novak (Renée Zellweger) sparks a feminist revolt with her titular book, reporter Catcher Block (Ewan McGregor) is convinced that Novak doesn't firmly believe in what the book presents. To prove it, he seeks out to seduce her. But plans like this often don't go without a hitch (so to speak).

Both Zellweger and McGregor had proven their bankability prior to Down with Love (she with Bridget Jones' Diary, he with the Star Wars prequels) so obviously this should work out. And boy, does it ever. (Hopefully the two actors will do another project like this.)

Also of note in Down with Love are supporting actors David Hyde Pierce and Sarah Paulson, who also have excellent chemistry together. Though both are more known for their Emmy-recognized work (he for Frasier, she for various Ryan Murphy productions) -- as other films they partook in can attest to -- they're always a welcoming presence in a movie. (And again, they should be in another project together.)

Down with Love is an utter delight, a rarity amongst today's regular features. The quartet of actors work off each other wonderfully, again alluding to similar titles of the era the film pays homage to. Basically if you needs the movie equivalent of an antidepressant, you'll more than likely find it here.

My Rating: *****

BOOK VS MOVIE: The Leisure Seeker

Growing old is very seldom something one looks forward to. (As Roger Daltrey sang, "I hope I die before I get old.") The sense of independence starts to tapers off as their mental and physical facilities begin to falter. (Think of it as the aging process in reverse.)

Some try to make the most of what little time they have left by doing what they haven't had the chance to do before, more often than not due to family and/or financial matters. (Many times it can be something daring like bungee jumping or traveling.) It's once they've the means that they pursue them.

Michael Zadoorian's The Leisure Seeker follows such a story. With both of them feeling the effects of their age (he with Alzheimer's, she with cancer), John and Ella Robina go on a road trip in their titular RV for perhaps one last vacation. But what will stop them first: their concerned children, their shared deteriorating health or Ella's lack of patience?

Paolo Virzi's adaptation alters a number of the details from Zadoorian's novel but still maintains the general gist of the story. In the lead roles are Donald Sutherland and Helen Mirren, both of whom have a charming chemistry together. However, it doesn't have that particular appeal the book had.

So which is better: Zadoorian's novel or Virzi's film? Both capture how the rebellious spirit has no age limit but Virzi makes the scenario more comedic in spots (though not always for the better). Either way, it's nice to have senior citizens depicted as more than doting grandparents. (It's a tiring thing to see after a while.)

What's worth checking out?: The book.

Cat Ballou

The opening moments of Elliot Silverstein's Cat Ballou pretty much establishes the general mood of it all, what with Nat King Cole (who died a few months before its release) and Stubby Kaye serving as a sort of Greek chorus. But boy, that doesn't even begin to describe it.

Starring Jane Fonda early in her career, Cat Ballou is a sort of send-up of the genre. (It's worth mentioning that her father was doing a number of westerns by this point in his own career.) It has a more slapstick approach to the subject matter, something not often seen in the otherwise somber field. (In fact, the source novel was a serious work. The comedy was added for the movie.)

Fonda may have been the star of Cat Ballou but the one responsible for stealing the show is Lee Marvin. (He didn't get that Oscar for nothing.) Playing dual roles as both Ballou's ally and enemy, he very obviously subverts his usual tough guy image. Now if only he had more opportunities to do comedy...

Similarly, Fonda is more known for serious fare but as she showed with Cat Ballou, she's good at comedy too. (Then again, Grace and Frankie might have reminded newer audiences to that fact.) And while she didn't enjoy making it, she still plays the straight woman role well.

Cat Ballou is a nice subversion of other films of the genre before it. Being released the same year as The Sound of Music and Doctor Zhivago, perhaps a less serious production was something the masses were looking for. (Hey, there was a lot going on then.)

My Rating: ****

The Rape of Recy Taylor

Within the last few weeks, numerous women (and several men) in Hollywood have come forth after years of silence against the men who sexually assaulted them. Many of them stayed quiet out of fear that either no one would believe them or their attacker(s) would seek retribution. But the very courageous will report what happened to them immediately.

That's what Nancy Buirski tells in her documentary The Rape of Recy Taylor. After being assaulted by six white men on her way home from church, Taylor's family tries to help her get justice (her attackers get acquitted twice, some of them enlisting in the war afterward). As a result, the NAACP sent Rosa Parks to help. And that's when history begins.

Buirski highlights in The Rape of Recy Taylor -- particularly towards the end -- who should be given credit for their presence in the civil rights movement. Not Martin Luther King, Jr., a man who regularly spoke out against the indignities colored people endured on a daily basis. No, Buirski has the numerous nameless who marched with King in such a role designation. And quite honestly, she's right.

As Virginia Woolf wrote in A Room of One's Own, "I would venture to guess that Anon, who wrote so many poems without signing them, was often a woman." (And yes, that's the actual quote.) How many women have made contributions to society that weren't recognized as such at the time? The truth may not be completely known but regardless, we have to respect the women in our lives, no matter what.

The Rape of Recy Taylor chronicles a forgotten name from a crucial time in American history, one responsible for shaping history itself. Taylor may not be in regular classroom discussions but she damn well should be. (And the same should be said for the many nameless victims of such ugly behavior.)

My Rating: ****1/2

Odds Against Tomorrow

The morality of people is something that can provide solid fodder if used properly. What can cause someone to betray both their beliefs and those close to them? And do they revert back to their old ways?

Robert Wise's Odds Against Tomorrow has this as the main dilemma for Johnny Ingram (Harry Belafonte). A family man with gambling debts, he reluctantly agrees to help David Burke (Ed Begley) in a bank robbery upstate. But co-conspirator Earl Slater (Robert Ryan) balks at working with someone who's black.

Naturally the main focus of Odds Against Tomorrow is the robbery but after nearly sixty years, what stands out is the depiction of race. Being released before the civil rights movement's peak, the matter was (and still unfortunately is) a hot-button topic. After all, actors like Belafonte (read: black) were just beginning to move away from servant roles and other stereotypes.

Similarly, there's a point in Odds Against Tomorrow where Johnny finds his wife hosting a PTA meeting in their home. He's offended that she's trying to behave more white. Usually such disgust towards another race has someone who's Caucasian expressing it (at least as far as fiction goes). It's not that common for someone non-white behaving that way. (In real life, however....)

Odds Against Tomorrow proves that while Wise is more known for West Side Story and The Sound of Music (and to some Star Trek: The Motion Picture), he certainly knew what to do with more serious material. (Adding to the film's noir ambiance are Shelley Winters and Gloria Grahame in supporting roles.) And man, Belafonte should've been a bigger name in Hollywood. (He was obviously a very talented man.)

My Rating: ****

Happy End

It's very clear how to distinguish a film by Michael Haneke from any other. Many times his works cross a certain line, other times they do a merry jig on said line. And boy, his latest film Happy End does the latter many times over.

A sort of sequel to Haneke's earlier film Amour, Happy End depicts a deeply dysfunctional family: a patriarch who attempts suicide repeatedly, a fractured mother-son relationship, a son with a wandering eye, and an emotionally distant granddaughter. And that's just the half of it.

As he showed with Funny Games and The Piano Teacher, Haneke makes it clear he's morbidly fascinated by what makes a person tick. (The opening sequence of Happy End grimly verifies that claim.) Why do some people behave the way that they do? Haneke doesn't provide a clear answer but no matter. Just enjoy the mayhem as it unfolds.

But much like Code Unknown, Happy End is more of just depicting life as it happens. It's not something that's always fair to some people nor is it full of the expected routines. More often than not, it regularly deals out some hard knocks to most of the people in the world. (Hey, just watch the news.)

Happy End is most definitely a Haneke film. With a dark interest towards human behavior, he explores society in an emotionally numbing manner -- as he is one to do -- to the point where wants to look away but can't bring themselves to do so. And it's probably safe to say that the last scene is the most audacious thing Haneke captured in any of his works.

My Rating: ****