Drive My Car

 

Japanese director Ryûsuke Hamaguchi's screen adaptation of a Haruki Murakami short story, the Oscar-nominated Drive My Car, is exquisite, not just because it is so artfully, deliberately and meticulously crafted -- that would simply make it "precious" -- but because it plumbs deep into emotional complexity to answer how and why we move forward from loss and regret.

Hidetoshi Nishijima plays an itinerant stage actor and director who accepts a contract to direct a Japanese translation of Uncle Vanya in Hiroshima. (The text and the location offer brilliant illumination on the characters' own struggles.) The theater company hires a driver for the director, a stoic young woman (Tôko Miura) and it is their evolving relationship -- which grows during their many hours commuting from the director's home to the theater -- that is the movie's central concern.

Fueling the director's ruminations about sadness and sacrifice are two other relationships -- that between him and his television screenwriter wife (Reika Kirishima) and between the director and a young man in the Vanya cast who may have been the wife's lover, played by Toshiaki Inomata. Murakami does not deal with two-dimensional characters in his stories, which are often elliptical, so Hamaguchi's treatment of these complexities is similarly rich and contemplative.

A three-hour running time and subtitles will no doubt put off many (most?) movie watchers, but the artistry in the film and what it has to say about the restoration of the human spirit are well-worth the investment, to wit, even scars that are deep are not always permanent.

Stew

 

L.A.-based, award-winning singer/songwriter Mark Stewart, who performs as "Stew," is, to me, the most enigmatic entertainer since Andy Warhol.

However, unlike Warhol, the gifted Stew doesn't seem to want to be famous, despite having amassed a respectable amount of celebrity in the alternative music sphere through his solo work, his incendiary chamber pop project "The Negro Problem," and on the stage.

Stew's solo recordings were named Album of the Year in 2000 and 2002 by Entertainment Weekly, and his semi-autobiographical 2008 rock musical Passing Strange, which he created with longtime collaborator Heidi Rodewald, won Drama Desk and Tony awards and was captured on film by Spike Lee.

Stew, a portly 61-year-old with a gray-flecked Van Dyke, writes thoroughgoing songs packed with catchy hooks and choruses and political and cultural allusion. His favorite topics are racial and sexual relations (the thread running through the episodic Passing Strange) and identity (both philosophical and political). His 2016 "concert novel" Notes of a Native Song, based on the life and writings of James Baldwin, was well-received and praised for its genre-busting innovation. When he tours, quite often with bassist Rodewald, Stew plays small venues where, one could well imagine, he is indeed the "smartest guy in the room."

I own most of the dozen or so recordings in Stew's catalogue, which he guards obsessively, refusing to publish his music or words. I love the post-modern "wokeness" of the man's vision, his audacity and the lyrical beauty in his best compositions -- many of which are hidden tracks on his albums.

Stew seems to practice the polar opposite of sound branding strategy -- daring the public to categorize his persona or attach themselves to him, much like the forlorn and elusive lovers that appear so frequently in his work.

On second thought, maybe the mystery IS his brand.

The Verdict

 

Sidney Lumet's riveting courtroom thriller The Verdict was released 40 years ago and retains its relevance.

Paul Newman starred as a drunken Boston lawyer who takes a wrongful injury case against a powerful hospital that is owned by the archdiocese. His first inclination is to sue for a quick payoff for himself and his client but his conscience kicks in and with the aid of another older attorney, played by Jack Warden, he raises the stakes and pushes for a negligence jury trial before a judge who dislikes him (Milo O'Shea). The church's attorney is a witheringly condescending Boston Brahmin played by James Mason. Lumet, Newman and Mason were all nominated for Oscars.

The sizzling Oscar-nominated screenplay was by David Mamet (Glengarry Glen Ross, American Buffalo) and based on a novel by Barry Reed. It is a familiar story of professional and spiritual redemption for Newman's Frank Galvin but it is also a morality tale that reminds us that "powerful" does not always (if ever) mean "right."

One of the high points in the film was the arrival of an anesthesiologist with a small women's clinic to challenge the hospital's narrative. It is clear when Dr. Thompson (played by Joe Seneca) deboards from the bus and is shown to be an older Black man that Galvin -- and presumably the audience -- is disappointed and fearful that Mason's viperous Ed Concannon will devour the gentle, old man on stand. It doesn't quite work out that way but the sequence is memorable in its depiction of pervasive race and class prejudice.

Black Moses (update)

 

Fifty years ago, Isaac Hayes won the Academy Award for Best Original Song for "Theme From Shaft." The picture and the soundtrack were released in '71, and they were all "bad mother..."

The same year, Hayes released Black Moses, and I would eventually spend many hours of my uncertain adolescence with Ike's smooth, orchestrated soul.

Black Moses included Ike's rendition of "(They Long to Be) Close to You," a 1970 Burt Bacharach and Hal David song that was covered, according to one count, five times the year before Black Moses was released. It was taken to the top of the charts by The Carpenters in '70 even though Perry Como, Diana Ross and Johnny Mathis were among those who covered the song the same year.

Who doesn't know this refrain? "On the day that you were born The angels got together And decided to create a dream come true So they sprinkled moon dust in your hair of gold And starlight in your eyes of blue."

Bacharach ~ a pop composer of the highest order ~ covered the song himself in 1971, with his distinctive though limited vocalizing. I was already familiar with his version of "Close to You" when the needle slipped into Ike's groove.

Being the Black Moses, Hayes wasn't having any of the blond-and-blue business; He omitted the references to "hair of gold" and "eyes of blue." I suppose he understood how marginalizing singing the original lyrics would be to many in his audience. (Mathis and Ross performed versions that included the original words.)

Hayes intoned, "On the day that you were born, the angels got together and they decided to create a dream come true so they sprinkled moon dust in your hair and I see heaven when I look at you."

Ike's rejection of the ABS (American Beauty Standard) in song resonated over the years, and not just for me. More than 30 years after Black Moses, soul singer Gerald Levert performed a version of the song that featured these lyrics.

"On the day that you were born The angels got together And decided to create a dream come true Yes, they did So they sprinkled moon dust in your hair And sunlight in your eyes, like they do." Not Keats, or Hayes, but it gets the job done.

Ike would eventually hang up his Black Moses drag for, until a few years before his sudden death in 2008, a chef's togs and cap on the animated series South Park. As unconventional as he may have become with his Scientology pronouncements, he will always get props from me for pushing his way out of the margins and bringing me and countless others along with him. Had he lived, Hayes would be 80 in August.

The Lost City

 

When Aaron and Adam Nee's The Lost City is funny, which it often is, it is VERY funny. It also has some pretty leaden bits -- but none of them involve stars Sandra Bullock and Channing Tatum, who keep this trifle of a rom-com afloat with their sure chemistry and splendiferous comic timing.

Bullock plays a blocked and secluded writer of adventure romances who is grieving the loss of her archaeologist-husband, the man who kept her stories grounded and authentic. Tatum plays the studly cover model for her books, who has become a fan favorite on book tours, much to the author's chagrin.

Over the course of a few days, Bullock's Loretta gets kidnapped by a treasure hunter (a spritely Daniel Radcliffe) who believes her most recent book contains keys to a lost kingdom of riches in the Atlantic. Tatum's cover model Alan attempts a rescue aided by an even studlier extractor played by Brad Pitt. And the whole crew is pursued by Loretta's publisher (the larger-than-life Da'Vine Joy Randolph).

Yes, much of the story is Raiders retread but the movie works because of pure cheek and silliness, even though the last reel does offer some riffs on those things that are really important in life.

Fifty-eight-year-old Bullock, who is one of the film's producers, will surely get rousing rounds of "you go girls" as her character shakes off self-pity, scales a mountain, outsmarts the bad guys and merengues with her 40-year-old Magic Mike in an island village.

X

 

Delaware's other favorite son is writer / director Ti West, whose latest horror flick after a lengthy hiatus in televisionland is titled "X" -- as in X-rated and X-cessive and X-ceptional.

British actress Mia Goth (Emma.) is an eager, young woman in 1979 Texas who wants to make it big in the burgeoning home video pornography industry. She and her boyfriend / producer Wayne (Martin Henderson) and his crew (Brittany Snow, Kid Cudi, Jenna Ortega, Owen Campbell) rent an isolated guest house owned by a decrepit farmer (Stephen Ure) and his wife (Goth also plays the part of the randy old woman). All goes well with the filming until old Pearl starts getting ideas and then things "go to hell" pretty rapidly.

The film is divided neatly into two acts -- the build-up with the filming of the movie and then the aftermath, the hunt. West stages a nice, split-screen musical interlude with the characters played by Snow and Cudi performing "Landslide" while old Pearl pulls a brush through her thinning, white hair and smears shadow on her lids. It's a quiet, artful breather before the chaos.

In "X", West invites audience members to think about their own relationships to sex and violence, as he blends these elements in fascinating ways, prompting viewers to consider which is more repulsive.

Paul Dano

 

I only know the actor Paul Dano by his work on the screen. I've never listened to or read an interview with him. Still, he strikes me as grounded and disciplined, his own creation, the result of years of reflection and self-assessment.

Dano seems to know his instrument -- body (lanky, non-descript), face (pudgy, oval), voice (shrill, grating) -- and what best suits it. Ironically, he strikes me as supremely sane even though he gravitates toward characters that are not.

I first noticed him in Little Miss Sunshine (2006), a film in which he played an electively mute boy. He was great. The other day I was thrilled (and chilled) by his portayal of The Riddler in The Batman. And among his work in between, There Will Be Blood (2007), 12 Years a Slave (2013), Love and Mercy (2014), Swiss Army Man (2016). I have since learned he appeared in 2001's L.I.E., a disturbing, challenging movie I've seen but don't remember his being in.

If even part of what I surmise about the young actor is true, he's a model of brand cultivation. A highly identifiable and bankable asset for any film he's attached to, any project he chooses, which quite likely will ensure him a long career, like many other splendid character actors who don't often get leading roles.

Maybe a healthy, grounded self-concept is all you need for success.

Sing 2

 

Writer/director Garth Jennings reserves the choicest character in his animated Sing franchise for himself -- the ridiculously capable reptilian director's assistance Miss Crawly. Her wall-eyed antics nearly steal what is actually a pretty terrific show.

Matthew McConaughey as the gritty little koala impresario Buster Moon and crew of A-listers from 2016's Sing (Taron Egerton, Reese Witherspoon, Scarlett Johansson) return in Sing 2 to voice the tuneful menagerie of showbiz hopefuls looking for their big break. The storyline is as old as the hills -- Mickey and Judy putting on a show in the barn -- but given new life through the animal angle, its evocation of those ubiquitous TV talent competitions and the assortment of old and nu-skool numbers that are imaginatively staged (the animation by Illumination is marvelous), even if the plotting is a little predictable.

This franchise and Illumination's other mega-hits Despicable Me and Minions seem to have nailed the elusive balance of wit and wonder that is essential for animated family features. While adults might not be as dazzled by Sing 2's eye-popping artfulness, many will surely be flicking lighters (metaphorically) at Bono's cameo as the grief-stricken, isolated rock 'n' roller who rediscovers his voice.

The Batman (2022)

 

Matt Reeves' The Batman (2022) works so well because it cares enormously about story and not just action.

The film's nearly 3-hour length is evidence of Reeves' commitment to restoring the original comic series' "Detective" focus and noir atmospherics. It delivers riveting procedural explication, gangster-land shoot ups, and several spectacular set pieces, including a brilliant auto chase between Batman and the Penguin.

The villains (Paul Dano's Riddler, John Turturro's crime boss and fixer, and an unrecognizable Colin Farrell, the aforementioned Penguin, mainly) are not the cartoonish fiends from the TV series or earlier stabs at this material, but mad connivers, schemers and scoundrels, roving bands of punks, mobsters, bad cops and worse politicians, all preying on Gotham City (New York City's proxy) and its residents.

Robert Pattinson's Bruce Wayne / The Batman may be the darkest and most dyspeptic put on film, but his performance works because the city he's trying to save, if not renew, is in perpetual darkness, so filthy the rain that's constantly falling will never clean it. His dour interior matches the depressive exterior world but he seems committed to push through both.

His partners in the crusade are one of the few good cops in the city, Lt. Gordon, played by Jeffrey Wright, who never disappoints, and a mysterious, high-kicking Catwoman (Zoë Kravitz), who is conducting her own campaign against corruption. While supporting players, they add levels of humanity and humanness to what is ostensibly a crime-fighting flick.

The film's climax, set on the day after the mayoral election in Gotham City, features a group of masked vigilante's radicalized over the internet by Dano's Riddler. It's a masterful conclusion that is also unsettling, in light of the events of Jan. 6, 2021.