Ballerina (2025).

Review #2388: Ballerina (2025).

Cast: 

Ana de Armas (Eve Macarro; Victoria Comte as young Eve), Anjelica Huston (the Director), Gabriel Byrne (the Chancellor), Lance Reddick (Charon), Norman Reedus (Daniel Pine), Catalina Sandino Moreno (Lena), Ian McShane (Winston Scott), Keanu Reeves (John Wick), and Sharon Duncan-Brewster (Nogi) Directed by Len Wiseman (#320 - Live Free or Die Hard, #1916 - Underworld)

Review: 

Even with the marketing calling it "From the World of John Wick: Ballerina", I was at least semi-interested in seeing what was under the hood of trying to a spinoff of a series that I assumed was staying quiet (this is me pretending that the idea of making a fifth John Wick movie when the fourth's ending already exists). I didn't even realize they utilized the "branding" for a prequel TV show two years ago, incidentally. Apparently, the genesis of Ballerina came around because of seeing a trailer. Shay Hatten wrote a spec script that was inspired by seeing the trailer for John Wick: Chapter 2 [2017] that was acquired by Lionsgate. The script was a sendup of action movies and even had a counter to keep track of the lead character's kills as they went into conflict with secret society assassins in Switzerland and a retirement home. Sure, it was re-tooled extensively, but you might remember that Hatten was brought in to do some writing for the third and fourth John Wick movies. Evidently, the time from development led to several people being credited for "Additional Literary Material: (not on-screen)" in Rebecca Angelo, Lauren Schuker Blum, Emerald Fennell, Michael Finch and Len Wiseman. There were apparently reshoots of the film done in early 2024 by producer Chad Stahelski that was either months of stuff or just a few weeks of additional photography (one sequence cited was the extending opening that apparently wasn't initially filmed due to budget limitations) that was overseen by Stahelski and Wiseman. You might remember that Wiseman was the director for two of the first Underworld movies but had not directed a movie since Total Recall in 2012.

Honestly, I liked the movie fine, but many of my statements about the movie will make it seem like it is a bad thing to be a mediocre spinoff movie. If there was a tinge of amusement to be had at the growing absurdity that comes with one man against the whole band of killers to go alongside a good deal of stakes and danger in those aforementioned movies, you might find a part of that still present here. There is at least enough here for de Armas in shall we say, "killer instinct" to make things stay watchable without turning into a fest of staleness or to laugh at it. The flamethrower sequences in particular work best for the movie for shall we say, "slap-bang enjoyment", one is particularly enjoyable in the nitty-gritty feeling one gets in seeing just what that type of weapon can do and the methods that arise in trying to combat it. Besides, with a movie trying to play with resilience in "fight like a girl" but taking it seriously, as long as one is believing the material enough to not call it slop, it will coast enough for at least the idea of checking it out for 125 minutes. Armas plays it fast and loose in lethal grace that does manage to balance the tightrope of kicking ass without merely resembling a video game character in terms of the action sequences, anyway. Sure, the character probably has the gleam of being pushed and pulled by a few too many writers. Sure, the cult stuff is probably a bit too vague, but it is serviceable in the same sense that it feels like an old pair of shoes, and I suppose that works for Byrne to approach things with some creep factor. Huston accompanies the proceedings mostly to go around with a small bit of charm, which goes fine when it feels like most of the scenes take place in a chair. Obligation or otherwise, it is nice to see McShane and Reeves around for a bit in those vital doses of familiarity. Reedus might be worth talking about if he didn't have a significant amount of time between scenes to actually cite, but so it goes. It isn't too complicated a movie to either buy into or discard, and I found it works just enough to buy into, although I don't exactly expect too many more spinoff attempts*.  In the end, it probably is a bit sloppier than the original script envisioned in executing mayhem, but it is relatively satisfying enough for me to at least say the journey was worth it to get there.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

*It amused me to get a trailer for Nobody 2, the sequel to the movie written by John Wick creator Derek Kolstad during this.

Miller's Crossing.

Review #1629: Miller's Crossing.

Cast:

Gabriel Byrne (Tom Reagan), Marcia Gay Harden (Verna Bernbaum), Albert Finney (Liam "Leo" O'Bannon), John Turturro (Bernie Bernbaum), Jon Polito (Johnny Caspar), J. E. Freeman (Eddie "the Dane"), Steve Buscemi (Mink Larouie), John McConnell (Bryan), Mike Starr (Frankie), Al Mancini (Tic-Tac), Olek Krupa (Tad), and Frances McDormand (The Mayor's Secretary) Written, Produced, and Directed by Joel and Ethan Coen (#659 - True Grit (2010), #765 - Fargo, #1063 - Blood Simple, #1517 - The Big Lebowski, and #1552 - A Serious Man)

Review:

"It doesn’t really concern me if the audience sometimes loses the thread of the plot. It’s not that important to understand who killed the Rug Daniels character, for instance. It’s far more important to feel the relationships between the characters. The question of intelligibility concerns me more, but, until now, I haven’t received any bad reactions concerning that."

It can be amazing to look upon the early part of the career of a director and see how they can synthesize entertainment with their own particular brand of craftsmanship and characters that entices one with wit and intrigue in where it all will lead by the time of its final shot. The Coen brothers certainly have done well with cultivating memorable films over the span of four decades, with a fair share of notice to accompany it depending on how it reaches them. Miller's Crossing, the third film directed, written, and produced by the Coens, was made on a budget of roughly $10-$14 million, but it did not shake the world with fervor upon release, likely owing to the fact that it was released days after Goodfellas (1990). Granted, they are not entirely similar when it comes to dealing with the gangster film genre, since this one is more of a synthesizing of the gangster and noir genre than anything - they were not so much inspired by the gangster film but rather with the gangster novel with the works of Dashiell Hammett, particularly with the novels The Glass Key and Random Harvest (incidentally, the Coens have argued it to be more closer to noir than the gangster film). Incidentally, the time it took to write such an intricate plot (roughly eight months) led to writer's block, during which the Coens were inspired to write what became their next feature with Barton Fink the following year.

It sure is a puzzle with a dazzling look to go with it. It is a series of contradictions and machinations, whether that means a struggle for ethics in illicit activities or various angles for all but the one that matters (i.e. the man who takes more blows than a sunken ship). In short, it moves like the breeze on a fedora in a forest (that particular image spurred the idea for the film). They wanted to make a film with a jigsaw puzzle in the background as a plot that makes one focus on the momentum of the folks inhabiting a "dirty town movie". The 115 minute run-time moves with the shift of a long con that can go for humor alongside curiosity but also melancholy, which is naturally aided by its soundtrack by Carter Burwell and look (shot but not exactly set in New Orleans - this was the third and final film that Barry Sonnenfeld shot for the Coens). It's a journey with various twists that goes with such a visual and complex punch that has a rhythm of greatness that always keeps itself a step ahead of the viewer without shaking them down for it. There are a variety of memorable presences, all of which spring down from its primary man of inscrutable charm in Byrne, who actually had to lobby with the Coens to keep his native Irish accent for the film (The Irish accent would also be done by the British-born Finney). He protrudes icy confidence with reasonable edge, one that can take a hit or an angle without ever striking a false note throughout all the layers. He weaves his way through a rough and tumble rat-a-tat kind of film with the sense of a lead presence taken from 50 years prior (such as a Bogart) but without the sense of being duped into watching an impersonation, which works with scenes that revolve around banter with Harden to moments spent in counsel with Finney. This was the first major role for Harden, who had a few roles on television and stage prior to this feature - she does well here, fitting the screen well in sultry jaded charm (in a sea of gangsters and molls, who expects anything less?) that keeps in motion with Byrne in clear-cut noir interest. Finney was a last-minute casting choice, as Trey Wilson died just before shooting was to begin. Who knows how it would have worked out with Wilson, but one sees Finney right at home with this role, one that is sprinkled through the film with great character role presence in wry intrigue. He has likely the best scene in the whole film, involving him in a shoot-out while "Danny Boy" (sung by Irish tenor Frank Patterson) plays in the background to a constant pulpy hail of gunfire. This was the first collaboration between the Coens and numerous actors that they have worked with in various films, such as Polito (5 in total), Turturro (4 in total), and Buscemi (5 in total). Each are memorable in their own way, such as Turturro and his rambling cover of hustling, which naturally sticks with one in scenes dealing with guns in a forest or in a dark house. Polito (who was actually approached to play the Dane but insisted on reading for Caspar) proves his own among a talented group of ethically challenged folks that try to avoid (or give) the high hat. Buscemi may have just one scene, but he sure talks his way into it (and webbing of the plot) with worthy ease. Freeman finishes the job with worthy smarm required of a second man in a film full of triangles between folks. What we have is a film that moves on its own plotting, detailed in its style with intricate care that will leave one curious by the time of its climax and its last fateful scene in the trees. It is the kind of noir that fits like a glove with others of its ilk in one category: it merits more than one viewing in a positive way, where one wants to follow along with the webbing of its story and characters through and through, because it looks and feels so good to do so. It may not have been the proper respect it deserved three decades ago, but it surely has found a place in worthy entertainment in the noir and gangster genres that one should be looked upon with great interest in the progression of the Coens in their execution of story and style.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

The Usual Suspects.

Review #1508: The Usual Suspects.

Cast: 
Stephen Baldwin (Michael McManus), Gabriel Byrne (Dean Keaton), Benicio del Toro (Fred Fenster), Kevin Pollak (Todd Hockney), Kevin Spacey (Roger "Verbal" Kint), Chazz Palminteri (Dave Kujan), Pete Postlethwaite (Kobayashi), Suzy Amis (Edie Finneran), Giancarlo Esposito (Jack Baer), and Dan Hedaya (Sergeant Jeff Rabin) Produced and Directed by Bryan Singer (#008 - X-Men, #010 - X2, #584 - X-Men: Days of Future Past, and #1077 - Superman Returns)

Review: 
"I believe that as a writer and a director, you're only providing the skeleton of a character, and you're hiring actors to fill it out."

It's easy to make a film people remember when you have assembled a script worth thinking about. Christopher McQuarrie spent his first few years out of high school (spent with classmate Singer) doing some traveling and work in a boarding school and a detective agency. His first foray into film came with Public Access (which he co-wrote with Singer) in 1993, which he co-wrote with Singer and Michael Feit Dougan. The film did win some attention from critics (such as with the Sundance Film Festival), but it ultimately did not find much of an audience to play to. The thing that sparked interest in writing the film came about from seeing a title of a Spy magazine column that was "The Usual Suspects" (which also happens to be a classic line from Casablanca), and a casual conversation about doing a film with that title led later on to Singer asking if he could write a film for him with that in mind (since there was interest by investors interested in their last work for a $3 million project). McQuarrie, working at a law firm at the time, found inspiration in a small white room that looked like one used for interrogation, with this springing to mind a character who talks too much; names for some of the characters would come from stuff revolving around McQuarrie in his workplace, such as the interrogator (named for a office manager at the firm) and even Keyser Söze (although the last name was changed from real life).

The most interesting parts of the film involve those little moments of interaction between the core cast that we follow along with in its story, more so in the first half than the second. It is Byrne who we gravitate to in terms of interest, one who just grabs at you with a flickering intensity that certain inspires a certain kind of imagination as to what he really is, since he is the figure we see in the midst of events that had started the film anyway. Baldwin follows along with useful pacing that is quick on the trigger in high-temperedness. Del Toro does fine with a share of eccentricity that lends curiosity for what really seems to be a plain character on paper. Pollak proves worthy of a few cheeky smiles in short fused-temperament, while Palminteri proves a worthy one to contrast against the core group of seediness with coarse charm. Spacey is the key to plenty in the film, since he is the one we are listening to and viewing within the background of the perspective, and he does a fairly decent job in unassuming nature, useful to the film is what it shows without seeming like an extra presence, verbalizing himself with effective weaving.

You know those movies that people say they would like for you to see in how it plays out? There are some films that people can really, really get into, ones that can lend plenty of discussion for how something "just works", something far more than what one could assume from a noir mystery and so on and so on. Honestly, the one sticking point for me when it comes to this film is that I wish it was better than I expected. What was there to expect? The climax at the end isn't exactly spoiler-free from pop culture, but it generally does help to not read too much into an ending for a film before you watch it anyway (look, either Keyser Söze will be revealed to us in the end as either someone already established or he won't be at all, it isn't exactly more than a binary choice). The film relies on this twist because of its perspective that it wants to tell within its confines of a story that perhaps works for numerous viewings, one might say (it has been described as Double Indemnity meets Rashomon). Well, that doesn't really work if you don't find its shaggy dog kind of storytelling that particularly highly to begin with, a big trick to play on the audiences. The cast ultimately plays into part of how this film falls into what I like to call the "five stages of movie classic disappointment" (in which one does when they are faced with a movie people like but you don't, which obviously differs from the inverse of normal movie disappointment, namely in paragraphs). In this never-tested method, they would represent denial, in that I am believing that because they do pretty well, I cling to the idea that this really will be a great film. Anger (or in this case, frustration, because who really gets mad at being tricked by a film?) presumably kicks in right around when the story starts to teeter a bit too long in making me keep caring to the inevitable stop. Bargaining comes around in the whiny voice of consciousness that argues that wants me to compromise (in other words, not just immediately say this film isn't quite right without a little bit of digging) and think of it as "good, but not quite perfect" because maybe the climax really will prove itself. This leads to that fourth stage of depression (disappointment), where I just sit through the motions of how it really chooses to go the way it goes and sighing all the way, with that fifth stage standing right there practically mocking me when I finish that last train of thought.

This isn't to say I hated the film, because I actually did find it okay in making a fair piece of curiosity with a few highlights within conventional folks made fair through the actors (such as the scene where they all have to say a line in a police lineup), but in my view its magic trick leaves me feeling indifferent rather than astonishment. Pull that tablecloth from under the table all you want, but that doesn't make it a cool trick if I can see the way you "did it" coming.  Conventional can seem old hat and tired, but you know what was better in its portrayal of details and chase in the same year that this came out? Coincidence or not, that film is Seven (1995), which also happened to feature Spacey in a key role. Why stop there? Why not just chuck along a better film in dealing with stringed-together storytelling in Reservoir Dogs (1992)? Look, sometimes a film just doesn't have the reaching power it thinks it does, and that just falls to the perspective of the person who just saw it, and I just thought it was okay. I can understand the accolades and praise it received from certain audiences (which included an Academy Award for its screenplay, beating films of that year such as Braveheart and Toy Story) while also reaching the final stage of movie-classic-disappointment-grief: Acceptance that it just isn't completely what I think of when I think of a classic, and I move on to the next one.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Excalibur.

Review #1210: Excalibur.

Cast: 
Nigel Terry (King Arthur), Helen Mirren (Morgana Le Fay), Nicholas Clay (Sir Lancelot), Cherie Lunghi (Queen Guenevere), Paul Geoffrey (Sir Perceval), Nicol Williamson (Merlin), Corin Redgrave (Duke of Cornwall), Patrick Stewart (King Leodegrance), Keith Buckley (Sir Uryens), Clive Swift (Sir Ector), Liam Neeson (Sir Gawain), Gabriel Byrne (King Uther Pendragon), and Robert Addie (Prince Mordred) Directed by John Boorman (#565 - Zardoz and #975 - Deliverance)

Review: 
The legend of King Arthur is a myth that has lived on in various forms of media for centuries, such as in prose or in novel form. Naturally it has served as something to adapt to the world of film, each having their own sort of style to tell the tale - whether involving a comedic take (A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court, itself an adaptation of a novel from Mark Twain), or as an adaptation of a Broadway musical in Camelot (1967), or as a parody in Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975). In 1969, John Boorman had wanted to make a film about the Merlin legend. His plans to do the film with United Artists did not come to pass owing to the scope of the script (for which he wrote with Rospo Pallenberg), with the studio offering him the chance to do an adaptation of The Lord of the Rings. While Boorman did not end up doing an adaptation of such material, he incorporated set design and imagery ideas from that stalled attempt for this film, which is based off the prose Le Morte d'Arthur by Thomas Malory. It is obvious that Boorman clearly wanted to make the definitive version of the legend, utilizing its 140 minute run-time to try and make a big grand story spectacle from life to death. It reads a bit like a history paper written in a fever dream by someone who really wants to get all of this information down before it flashes away - it may seem a bit long, but that's because he really wants to wow you with all that is going on. The spectacle does tend to outweigh the actual characters at times, and a lesser made film would buckle under the pressure - but Boorman manages to keep it all together to make an engaging fever dream of a movie.

The film has an interesting look to it, owing to the lighting choices (such as the forest scenes or parts involving the sword) that occurred due to production having rain fall on each day of the shoot, filmed entirely in Ireland. The result makes it seem like one is watching a otherworldly type of movie, with eerie and fitting cinematography from Alex Thomson. The aluminium on the knights glistens well at times, especially. The key highlight of the film is Williamson, who can switch from clever wit to foreboding when needed, wise and tricky as one would hope. He sells the film well whenever he pops up on screen, that is for sure. Terry (who dabbled in film on occasion when not on the British stage) has the task of trying to play the man of the myth from adolescence all the way to a withered man without seeming lost in the tale - he does just fine with that. Mirren (also known for her work in the theatre) isn't given too much depth with her conniving part, but at least she is game to have some scheming fun for her moments. Clay and Lunghi don't fare as great, each being a bit passive while not having too much chemistry of sorts with Terry, whether friend or lover. It doesn't come to the point where it undercuts the film as a whole, but it feels more haphazard than it probably should. Geoffrey ends up having to try and help carry the film a bit for the film's last half, and while he does seemingly make the role grow from when he is introduced, he can't help make it seem that the film could run out of steam when it tries to give focus on the Grail. The others of the cast fill their roles when required (including early performances on film for Stewart and Neeson, which is neat in some way). The film promotes itself on nobility and comradeship from its fabled Knights of the Round Table, where the king embodies the land he and his subjects walk on. It is a film that indulges in sets of armor, violence and a sense of hope, juggling itself amiably as an epic that merits its own place in entertainment among fantasy films. Perhaps it doesn't hold up as well as it should with some of its narrative workings, but it makes up for it with plenty of fun, spectacle and a fairly game cast that works out a quest of the legend and comes up with most of the right ideas in time.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Hereditary.

Review #1099: Hereditary.

Cast: 
Toni Collette (Annie Graham), Alex Wolff (Peter Graham), Milly Shapiro (Charlie Graham), Gabriel Byrne (Steve Graham), and Ann Dowd (Joan) Directed by Ari Aster.

Review: 
If you had not already heard, my city had quite a storm on Tuesday night/Wednesday morning, with the result being that some parts of my town were flooded. As such, the review for this film (which had already been out for nearly two weeks by the time I saw it on Tuesday night) was delayed from its original intended day of Wednesday to now - apologies for doing so, but I hope that you will enjoy this review, which somehow managed to be over 700 words.

Admittedly, horror films can span numerous threads and situations, where it can be things besides just trying to get a quick scare, and there have been some recent films that showcase interesting examples of getting scares. I'm reminded of The Witch (2015, also distributed by the film studio A24), which mixed its 17th century family dynamic (and a short cast) with some creepy atmosphere to make for some fine entertainment. It had a methodical way of pacing despite being 93 minutes, but I bought into what it sold. With this movie (and its 127 minute run-time), you would not be surprised that this is a slow burn to watch, complete with family drama and occasionally creepy horror moments. For better or worse, this film sets out with ambition to tell a nightmare tale mixed with tragedy - with one result being some whiplash.

In its short cast, Collette delivers the best performance, fully committed to her role with the kind of devotion and grace that you would expect in a film (whether involving family horror or not) that certainly lends itself some attention. Wolff is fairly solid for his time on screen to watch, but it isn't anything particularly memorable aside from what you'd probably expect from a conventional role - for better or worse. Shapiro, in a role that seems in-line with creepy kids you'd see in horror films is okay, but it isn't anything too special. Byrne is fine, if not a bit unassuming. Dowd is slightly refreshing in that she's the only one in a prominent role that isn't one of these dreary family characters, even if it's a brief role. Watching this movie play out is an exercise in seeing people disintegrate in terms of emotional state that toes the line between being compelling and unintentionally amusing. The dinner room sequence in particular is an example of where the movie may gain or lose some people, in that you might find yourself either finding it to be something to think about, or something to giggle at in how these lines could almost be used ironically. The cinematography by Pawel Pogorzelski is pretty fine to look at, and it sure helps in a movie that likes to linger at times. Perhaps it is the clutter of its subplots that ultimately serves to the film's benefit or its downfall for viewers, and I find myself in the latter category. It has a few moments that are a bit surprising, but those are more offbeat than terrifying. It isn't so much that I wanted the film to bask itself in being familiar, but scenes such as the seance actually seemed more interesting than when it liked to linger on its family drama or even the reaction shots. Sometimes the cliche or the tried-and-true method really does make for an entertaining movie over just one that likes to play around with occasional intensity, complete with an ending that I'm sure will satisfy anyone looking for jarring ways to close off the family angle - but for me it was just a way to get one good laugh. Whether it is disturbing or just silly is up to you.

You might say that this is something that probably needs a second watch to really look into what makes this movie tick with its sensibilities to try and make a nightmare ride, but I can't find myself doing so. It especially suffers if you compare it to other modern horror films, such as The Witch or It, or even newer releases like Upgrade because I felt not so much less unsettled by those movies but more satisfied with where it ultimately went. Movies can be emotionally powerful things to watch, but this one felt a bit flat for me, although that's not to say it won't be for someone with more patience or more understanding, however. Perhaps it is my disappointment that influences my thoughts on the movie, which isn't terrible in any real sense. It is hard to find the right grading for a movie that certainly will work for people buying into what it is trying to sell in horror and tragedy, but it is also a film that feels hollow in the parts that mattered most to me - being compellingly scary. If you're into the sort of thing that this movie is going for, all power to you, but for me I can't do the same.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.