Burnt

The Post

In today’s climate, fake news and misinformation abound. Now more than ever, we should be able to rely on the press to disseminate truthful information. The Post hearkens back to a time in American history when the public still had trust in the fourth estate, and news publications prided themselves as gatekeepers: the last line of defense between the average citizen and a (potentially) corrupt government.

The Watergate scandal has been well-documented, but some may be unaware of the precursor to that tumultuous time, when public trust in our nation’s highest office previously began to be eroded. Incomparable director Steven Spielberg (Bridge of Spies) brings us The Post, an account of The Washington Post’s controversial publishing of The Pentagon Papers in 1971. Initially the classified information was brought to light by The New York Times, but The Post published a lengthier excerpt shortly thereafter. Specifically, The Pentagon Papers were a detailed report written by the Department of Defense revealing that the U.S. was essentially involved in a war that it knew it could not win. At least four administrations, including Kennedy and Johnson – had not been truthful about the Vietnam War with the American public – while still sending our young people off to die in a foreign jungle.

Tom Hanks (Sully) stars as editor Ben Bradlee, while his boss is owner Kay Graham (Meryl Streep, Ricki and the Flash), whose father owned the paper before her. In a sign of the times, her father willed the paper to his son-in-law and Kay’s husband rather than to his own daughter. This apparent invisibility in male-dominated spaces would require Kay to assert herself in courageous ways, and the film’s subtle depiction of Graham’s timidity in that sphere was spot-on. The strength of The Post is two-fold: Spielberg masterfully impresses upon us the weight of the classified information, and lends an equally deft hand to the agonizing dilemma with which Graham is faced: to publish or not to publish?

It was interesting to see an iconic newspaper such as The Washington Post depicted as a fledgling underdog but remember this was before Woodward & Bernstein. Hanks and Streep were effective, with the former showing the dogged tenacity of a grizzled vet and Streep delivering a quietly brilliant performance. Some Hollywood names are all hype, but Streep is as good as advertised. Kay Graham could’ve been imprisoned for publishing The Pentagon Papers, but she did so anyway, in bold defiance of the male members of the Board of Directors, blazing a new trail for the paper and positioning it as a bastion of truth through diligent investigative reporting.

The Post was deliberate, sharp and compelling. Spielberg, Hanks, and Streep elevated the film by virtue of their presence/involvement alone, which was enough of a draw for me. The accolades are well-deserved. I also enjoyed the limited screen time and supporting performances from Carrie Coon (Gone Girl) and Matthew Rhys (Burnt). My only criticism of the film is less of a ‘ding’ and more of an observation. It’s an important film but it’s not an exciting movie, and for that reason I recommend this movie to those who are fans of Hanks and Streep and to those who try to check out the Oscar contenders every year. I enjoyed The Post and hope it’s indicative of the films to come in 2018.

Grade: A-

Baby Driver

I expect fun movies this time of year, and Baby Driver was a great way to beat the heat for two hours. At first blush the movie looked like it was trying too hard, but after checking it out last weekend, I can say that it’s worth the hype: every bit as cool as it looks, a rhythmic and stylish ride. Think Kingsman: The Secret Service meets Drive.

Jamie Foxx (Sleepless) and Kevin Spacey (Nine Lives) are featured alongside newcomer Ansel Elgort (The Fault in Our Stars) as a criminal outfit of bank robbers. Spacey calls the shots behind the scenes, while the field team executes. He never works with the same team more than once, save for Baby, the one constant, always the getaway driver. So nicknamed for his limited speaking, Baby is a reluctant wheelman, indebted to Doc (Spacey) until he works off what he owes.

Sometimes the best way to introduce a character is to throw the audience right into their world. Baby Driver begins with Baby behind the wheel, waiting animatedly while his three cohorts (Jon Bernthal, Jon Hamm and Eiza Gonzalez) pull a heist. I’m not saying this opening scene should be considered alongside the great car chases/escapes like those in Ronin or The Italian Job, but Baby’s wheelwork was breathtaking. I was on the edge of my seat as he took turns at ridiculous speeds, cutting his wheel on a dime, his skills a virtual thing of beauty.

I hadn’t figured this cinematic outing would make for a lesson in filmmaking, but I gained a deeper appreciation for score and musicality. Elgort glided effortlessly across the screen like a hipster Gene Kelly, adding a whimsical flair to an otherwise dangerous business. The movie pulsated with sound and music, nearly elevating the aural component on par with the characters. Music was an integral part of the movie, as Baby listens 24/7 to drown out the noise in his ears. We might affectionately dub a tune part of the soundtrack of our life, but Baby really means it, carefully mining his iPod for the perfect song for even the most mundane tasks.

Baby made for an interesting protagonist, a sort of criminal prodigy impervious to the provocations of others. His demeanor is irksome to the rest of the team, as they mistake his unassuming aloofness for superiority, but Baby is just good at what he does. Another highlight of the movie was the burgeoning relationship between Baby and Debora (Lily James, Burnt, Downton Abbey), a waitress at the local diner who catches both his eye and his ears with her own musicality. Their earnest and pure love story had its own mini-soundtrack, endearing in its own right.

I was on Twitter today and saw that Anthony Bourdain bizarrely tweeted ‘Fuck Baby Driver.’ I don’t understand the vitriol. The movie doesn’t take itself too seriously, but that doesn’t mean it is without merit. Like most of its ilk, it became mired in absurdity by the third act, but overall I still found it enjoyable. Jamie Foxx and Kevin Spacey’s considerable talents were not utilized here, as both actors were constrained by their characters, turning in less than memorable performances. The real stars of the film are its star-crossed leads Elgort and James, and director Edgar Wright (The World’s End). Wright’s direction, his timing and physical placement of action to coincide with the rhythm of the score, was brilliant. He created an interesting character and put a fresh spin on familiar themes by relying on the magnetism and chemistry of the two leads. Purists can scoff away, but Baby Driver didn’t disappoint. Grade: B+

Allied

As a self-professed cinephile, I try to be a student of film. Admittedly I’m not as well versed in the finer points of film history and avant-garde genres as some others, though I pride myself on at least knowing the masters, from Kurosawa to Kubrick. Moreover, I try to view the classics such as Citizen Kane and Casablanca (I enjoyed the latter more than the former). The films of yesteryear give a glimpse of the glamor of Old Hollywood, replete with dashing leading men and captivating leading women. Allied harkens back to that golden era in its stars Brad Pitt (The Big Short) and Marion Cotillard (Macbeth), two spies who fall in love amidst the danger and turmoil of World War II.

Pitt stars as intelligence officer Max Vatan, whom we first meet parachuting into the middle of the Moroccan desert. Cotillard features as spy Marianne Beausejour, Max’s mission cohort who has been laying the groundwork for his arrival. Posing as husband and wife although only having just met, I was enchanted by the delicate dance between characters, Marianne taking the lead as a compliant Max deferred to her expertise. Having to play the role of lovers (of course) leads to real feelings between Max and Marianne, but their focus is razor sharp – and in one scene Max reminds the audience that even though he is maintaining an outward charade, he cannot afford to let his guard down, as any momentary lapse in judgment could not only cost him the mission, but their lives.

It’s tempting to glance at this film and compare it to Mr. & Mrs. Smith, another film in which Pitt and his female co-star are featured as married spies. That would be a mistake, as any comparisons are superficial. Allied is a far superior film, though to be fair both movies have their place. Not purely a love story, Allied should appeal to an array of viewers with its air of romance and intrigue. Writer Steven Knight (Burnt, Locke) punctuates the story with suspense and danger, equal parts action and love story. Pitt and Cotillard’s chemistry is undeniable, both organic and intentional. Pitt hasn’t been this magnetic on screen in years, and veteran director Robert Zemeckis (Flight) depicted every detail beautifully, effectively capturing every passionate, dangerous moment between the two sizzling leads. In one unforgettable scene Max and Marianne make love in the middle of a sandstorm, the swirling sands rocking their car to and fro as they reach their pique within.

I can’t find a single fault with Allied, a well-acted, well-written, beautiful film with something for everyone: action, suspense, love, and mystery. Stylish and atmospheric, it was reminiscent of a bygone era but will undoubtedly appeal to contemporary audiences. This was one of the better films I’ve seen in 2016. Grade: A.