The Station Agent (2003) * * * 1/2

Directed by:  Tom McCarthy

Starring:  Peter Dinklage, Bobby Cannavale, Patricia Clarkson, Michelle Williams, John Slattery, Paul Benjamin

Finbar "Fin" McBride (Dinklage) simply wants to be left alone with every fiber of his being.   He utters one-word responses to questions from people who are genuinely interested in him.    If the responses could be less than one word, he would utilize those.    He is a dwarf who inherits an abandoned train depot in a quiet North Jersey town.   Fin loves trains and that's about the only thing on Earth that interests him.    What exactly Fin can do with a defunct train depot is anyone's guess.

Fin, a naturally lonely introvert who doesn't wish to change that status anytime soon, has the misfortune of making acquaintance with two more outgoing, but no less lonely souls in Joe (Cannavale) and Olivia (Clarkson), a recently separated artist whose son passed away two years ago. 
Joe runs a roach coach next door to Fin's depot, and Fin is standoffish to the gregarious Joe, who wants nothing more than to be Fin's (or anyone's) friend.    Olivia is a study in distracted driving, and nearly runs over poor Fin as he walks to and from the local convenience store.    She offers him a ride, but he declines.    As The Station Agent progresses, Fin finds it more difficult to keep to himself and keep others at bay.   He, Joe, and Olivia all need each other, whether they care to admit it or not.
They've all tried the loneliness thing, and it doesn't suit them well.

We sense as Fin reveals himself slowly to his new friends that his reluctance to communicate with others is a defense mechanism.    Years ago, he was rejected for being a dwarf, and now he chooses to disassociate himself with others before they can return the favor.    Many of the people he meets in town have never seen a dwarf before (the owner of the convenience store takes a picture of him), and I'm not certain how many have heard of the existence of dwarves.    A pretty librarian named Emily (Williams) is scared shitless when Fin walks to her counter to check out a book about trains.    Emily is startled at first, but soon smiles at him as if she is interested in more than just friendship.   She has a lot of work ahead of her.

The Station Agent is about wounded people whose hurts are exacerbated by being alone.    Joe takes care of his ailing father, Olivia's husband left her for another woman after her son passed away, and we know Fin's problems.   Dinklage, Cannavale, and Clarkson make these characters unique and sympathetic.    Their changes occur gradually and quietly.    No declarations are made, and no catharsis is shown, but we know each has let the others in, and this creates a certain power all its own.    Writer-director Tom McCarthy (who later went on to make the excellent Spotlight in 2015) wrote this story with these actors in mind, and it is difficult to imagine other actors in these roles.   They are tough nuts to crack, but with a little patience, care, and time, they do crack, and we are all the better for it.

Beatriz at Dinner (2017) * *

Directed by:  Miguel Arteta

Starring:  Salma Hayek, John Lithgow, Connie Britton, Jay Duplass, David Warshofsky, Chloe Sevigny, Amy Landecker

The setup is there, but the payoff is not.   Beatriz at Dinner has a chance to speak to our political and racial divide in the early days of the Trump administration.    Released in 2017, Beatriz at Dinner only scratches the surface of the conflict to come.    Charlottesville was still ahead, as was the Mueller Report, locking children in cages at detention centers, and another two-plus years worth of moronic, baiting, and incendiary tweets by a man who is supposed to be a President and not a Twitter troll.

Beatriz at Dinner symbolizes the battle of the haves and have-nots in the form of Beatriz (Hayek), a masseuse who makes house calls for her wealthier clients.   Her car breaks down in the driveway of one of those clients, and Cathy (Britton) invites Beatriz to a dinner she and her husband are hosting with some other filthy rich friends.    One of the friends is Doug Strutt (Lithgow), who finances Cathy's husband's real estate deals and someone who no one wants to get on the wrong side of.    Beatriz swears she knows Doug.   Years ago, a hotel was being built in Beatriz' hometown in Mexico which caused economic chaos for the area.   Was Doug the hotelier Beatriz and her family were protesting?    In any event, as the evening wears on, Doug becomes the epitome of all that is wrong in the world in Beatriz' eyes, and she is not afraid to let him know it.

Doug's loathsomeness is accompanied by an oily charm and lots of wealth, which in his mind entitles him to do whatever he wants.   He's that guy who kills a rhino on safari in Africa and proudly poses with the animal carcass for a pic.    He passes his phone around so everyone can marvel at his conquest, or at least pretend to marvel because the other guests need to keep Doug as an ally to keep their pockets lined.    Beatriz has other thoughts about Doug's hunting, and throws his phone back at him in disgust.    Doug is the Trump follower stand-in, while Beatriz represents the opposition.    Her being a Mexican immigrant further fans the flames.    The performances are spot-on, especially Hayek espousing her sometimes misguided passion and Lithgow, who energetically paints Doug as a man of wretched excess who enjoys being wretched and excessive. 

Beatriz at Dinner taps into the awkwardness those must feel when attending a social function to which they don't belong.    Under normal circumstances, even the kindly and sympathetic Cathy would not invite Beatriz to stay for dinner, but since Beatriz is waiting for someone to pick her up, Cathy feels she is doing the right thing by having Beatriz dine with them.    Little did she know, or suspect, that having Beatriz and Doug at the same dinner table is a combustible combination.   At first, the men gather with the men and women gather with the women in small circles, with Beatriz waiting patiently or perhaps a bit uncomfortably by herself.    Those who don't already know Beatriz assumes she is one of the staff.

The stage is set for a story which speaks to our Trumpian times, and who knows?   Beatriz at Dinner may inspire empathy among the characters, who are forced to see each other and truly understand what it's like to be in the others' shoes.    It does, for a short while, but then stumbles on the way to the payoff.    Beatriz becomes unhinged by her encounter with Doug and his friends.    We witness Beatriz stabbing Doug in the neck with a letter opener, or does she?    Beatriz obsesses over a goat she owned who was killed earlier in the film.    Her final scene is a head-scratcher, but by then the movie had completely unraveled; unable to sustain the tension which came before.    The final fifteen minutes only make me wish the ending arrived fifteen minutes sooner.

Once Upon a Time...in Hollywood (2019) * * * *

 

Directed by:  Quentin Tarantino

Starring:  Leonardo DiCaprio, Brad Pitt, Margot Robbie, Margaret Qualley, Bruce Dern, Timothy Olymphant, Al Pacino, Kurt Russell, Damon Herriman, Lena Dunham, Mike Moh, Emile Hirsch, Damian Lewis, Dakota Fanning, Luke Perry, Nicholas Hammond, Julia Butters

If you judged by the number of names listed in the above actors' list, you would assume Once Upon a Time... was a classic with the proverbial cast of thousands.    Make no mistake, this movie belongs to two of them: DiCaprio and Pitt, who are in nearly every scene either together or individually.   The rest of the well-known names (and some legends like Pacino) are on board in memorable cameos, but writer-director Quentin Tarantino doesn't lose focus on the story of his fictional characters Rick Dalton (DiCaprio) and his best friend/stunt double/employee Cliff Booth (Pitt).

The project was first conceived as Tarantino's Charles Manson project, but Manson only appears in two brief scenes.    The story centers around Rick and Cliff as they try to maneuver their lives and careers as middle-aged men in a changing Hollywood.    Rick used to be the star of an early 1960's TV show and he is still recognizable by some as "the star of Bounty Law".   But in February 1969, Rick's acting gigs consist primarily of playing heavies in guest-starring roles on TV shows.    Cliff, as as a stuntman whose glory days went the way of the dodo when Rick's career started to cool off, finds he can't get work because of his worrisome reputation (you'll see what I mean).   On one occasion, Rick is able to convince a stunt coordinator (Russell) who doesn't much like Cliff to give him a shot as a standby double, and Cliff winds up fighting with Bruce Lee (Moh).   The fight doesn't unfold as you would expect, and it is one of the movie's funniest scenes.

How do Cliff and Rick tie in to Charles Manson?   Rick lives on Cielo Drive in the Hollywood Hills, and his new neighbors are Sharon Tate (Robbie) and Roman Polanski, which causes Rick to pine not for Sharon, but for the opportunity to meet them and perhaps be cast in Polanski's next movie.    ("I could be one pool party away from being in Polanski's next film,").  Cliff, meanwhile, lives in a dumpy trailer behind a drive-in movie theater where his dog eats better than he does.    Rick's new agent Marvin (Pacino), suggests Rick go to Italy to star in spaghetti westerns, which doesn't exactly please Rick, but hey they pay pretty well and it's steady work.   Tate is as sunny and wide-eyed as Rick is distraught and worried, and clearly their careers are on opposite trajectories. 

On one Sunday afternoon in Hollywood, Sharon watches her latest movie (starring Dean Martin) in a local theater and smiles all the way through, especially when the audience laughs along with her character's klutziness.    Across town, Rick is hard at work trying to perfect his guest role on a TV Western and beats himself up in his trailer when he flubs his lines.   He performs as if his career is on the line, while Tate basks in the glow of her up and coming career, which ended abruptly in the early morning hours of August 9, 1969, when she and four others were butchered in her home by Manson's followers.

Speaking of Manson, Cliff has more direct contact with the Manson clan when he picks up a hitchhiker (Qualley), who leads him to Spahn's Ranch, which back in the day was a studio set where Rick and Cliff shot Bounty Law.   The vibe is quite different now, as Manson's cult has overtaken control of the place from poor, blind George Spahn (Dern), who is more or less held hostage.   The tension in these critical scenes is well-crafted, with the payoff even more satisfying.   Cliff proves he is not one to be trifled with, even when surrounded by potentially homicidal cultists.

Tarantino, who was seven years old in 1969, establishes the era so vividly that we feel we've taken a time machine back to that fateful year.   From the radio ads to the TV ads to the billboards to the decor of the homes, offices, and bars, to the cars on the freeway, and to the clothes worn by the people, Once Upon a Time... looks and feels authentically like 1969 Hollywood, with the ever-present pall of Charles Manson hanging over everything.    Rick, Cliff, and Sharon all have a date with destiny, and it's sheer joy watching the events intertwine, unfold, and pay off.

At a running time of 2 hours, 40 minutes, Once Upon a Time... could've shaved twenty minutes.   It would be un-Tarantino-like not to indulge at least a little excess, but for the most part, Tarantino is at his most focused here.   His gleeful passion for the story and the era is evident, as if the child in him is getting a second chance to relive his youth.    You can almost forgive him for not wanting to pare down. 

Tarantino, with Inglourious Basterds and Django Unchained, inserted fictional characters into real events.   Both films altered history and gave the victims a chance to stick it to their tormentors.   Once Upon a Time... throws Rick and Cliff, who have enough baggage of their own to contend with, headlong into a collision with the Manson followers sent to kill Sharon Tate and whoever else had the unfortunate fate to be at the address on Cielo Drive on that August night in 1969.    Once Upon a Time isn't just another angle on which to hang a retelling of the Sharon Tate murders.   It has plenty to say about the Hollywood movie making of the time.    Eight-month long movie runs in single, independently owned theaters (in the infancy of the multiplex) just don't happen anymore, not with streaming, cable, and Blu-Ray around in full force.   Avengers: Endgame is now the highest-grossing movie ever only three months into its theatrical run, and within a month may not be in any theaters altogether.    I recall when E.T. usurped Star Wars as the all-time box office champ in 1982, it took nearly one year to accomplish the feat.   Movies were allowed to build audiences then.   Now, if a movie isn't in the top two in its first week, it is left for dead.

DiCaprio gives one of his best performances as the anxiety-ridden, chain smoking, whiskey guzzling Rick.   He is as tense as Pitt is laconic and laid-back, (although don't try to mess with him, as a few characters make the mistake of doing).   Their smooth chemistry suggests a long friendship, with each man knowing his role and staying in his lane.   Each has the other's back, and their loyalty to each other is touching.   We suspect their friendship will endure even if Rick's work dries up amidst the shift in Hollywood's thinking.   Both actors are wonderful, but I'd give the slight edge to Pitt as far as which character is more effective, mostly because Pitt is present in the movie's three best scenes, and gives each humor and a certain quiet macho toughness.

Once Upon a Time... is Tarantino under control and mostly lacking in unnecessary self-indulgence. 
It is refreshing to see the influential writer and director so focused on a period in history which deeply affected him.   The final scenes are violent and bloody, yes, and that is to be expected when dealing with Manson followers, but not so much that they cross the line into self-parody.   And QT manages to throw in a few satisfying surprises as well, ones which add poignancy to the final shots as the credits roll. 

The Lion King (2019) * * 1/2

Directed by:  Jon Favreau

Starring (voices of) Donald Glover, Beyoncé, Seth Rogen, Billy Eichner, James Earl Jones, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Alfre Woodard, John Oliver, JD McCrary

I saw the original animated The Lion King (1994) only once, and besides its top-flight animation, it was heartfelt and tapped into the tear ducts as only animated movies can.    The live-action (somewhat) version released 25 years later loses something in the translation, especially in the pivotal emotional scenes.    Here's an example:   In the original, the opening sequence has newly born lion prince Simba being held up high for the animal kingdom to see.   The cub has an uneasy, uncertain look on his face.   Why is he being shown off in front of the entire savannah?   He's just a cub, for heaven's sake, and doesn't know his place in this kingdom where his father rules with compassion.   In the 2019 version, the cub is presented to the subjects, but without the same expression, and the scene doesn't quite have the same power.

The Lion King is a beautifully constructed visual feast with seamless CGI and live-action animal footage woven convincingly together.   It looks great, but I could not shake the feeling that I was watching an unnecessary remake.    And should this remake have been a musical like the original?
Live action animals singing is rather ungainly, although the Lion Sleeps Tonight number is catchy.

Fast forward to a few years later, and Simba accompanies his father Mufasa (Jones-the only actor returning from the original) on daily tours of the kingdom.   Mufasa is a loving father, who rules with strength, dignity, and the love and respect of his subjects.    But lurking in the background, scheming to usurp the kingdom, is Mufasa's brother Scar (Ejiofor), who was next in line to be king until Simba was born.    Now, he scowls jealously at Simba while pretending to be a caring uncle.    When Scar finally completes his plan to kill his brother and steal the kingdom from young Simba, we feel a giant has passed when he see the lifeless Mufasa on the valley floor after falling to his death.   

Scar manipulates Simba into believing that he was somehow responsible for this father's death, and Simba escapes to the desert after an attempt on his life, where he is rescued by warthog Pumbaa (Rogen) and meerkat Timon (Eichner) and they adopt him into their world of "Hakuna Matata" (meaning "no worries").    Simba grows up with Pumbaa and Timon, forgetting he is the rightful heir of the animal kingdom until his childhood friend Nala (Beyoncé) comes around and reconnects with Simba.    Meanwhile, Scar and his band of hyenas have destroyed the kingdom by overhunting and turned the once beautiful savannah into a wasteland.

This is heavy stuff for kids, despite the music and Pumbaa's penchant for flatulence.    Would it be disquieting for children to witness the realistic-looking violence between animals on screen?    How would it mesh with a singing warthog belting out Hakuna Matata?    In my eyes, it's a disjointed tone, but for a child, who knows?    Animation is better suited to this material because animation has a way of softening the images and glossing over what is a sad story.    Director Favreau is at home helming big budget movies (like Iron Man and The Jungle Book), and the technical aspects of The Lion King are superb, but the underlying emotion of the original is blunted here.

The Art of Self-Defense (2019) * * * 1/2

Directed by:  Riley Stearns

Starring:  Jesse Eisenberg, Alessandro Nivola, Imogen Poots, Steve Terada

Casey Davies' dull, plain, almost anonymous life is on full display in the first ten minutes of The Art of Self-Defense.    He works as an accountant, and the closest he comes to conversing with anyone is standing idly by a table of three disgruntled workers shooting the breeze about how they would like to beat up their boss.    He sheepishly defends the boss, but he is quickly rebuffed and sent on his way.   His only friend in the world is his adorable dachshund, and one night Casey (Eisenberg) walks to the local pet store to pick up dog food (the food comes in a brown paper bag simply labeled "Dog Food" on it) and is savagely mugged and beaten to within an inch of his life by motorcycle-riding bullies.

It may be unfair to say the mugging is the highlight of Casey's recent life, but it stirs him into action to defend himself against future beatdowns.   He applies for a gun license, and while his background check is being examined, Casey comes across a karate dojo run by the charismatic, quiet, and mysterious Sensei (Nivola).   Casey wants to learn karate (or as one class member pronounces "ka-ra-tay") and Sensei is willing to train him.   Sensei says Casey reminds him a little of himself, and we kind of, sort of know Sensei is feeding Casey a line of bullshit to convince him to keep coming to class.  The dojo is a business, after all.

The Art of Self-Defense is a potently satirical examination of toxic masculinity, which the Sensei engages in plenty of and trains his students to follow suit.    Sensei points out that Casey's name is not masculine and his choice of dog is even less so.    Casey is soon promoted to yellow belt, which he would like to wear around the clock and finds a creative way to do so.    He wears the belt proudly like a Cub Scout would wear his most recent medal for sportsmanship.   But Sensei doesn't merely want Casey to be happy as a yellow belt, he pushes him to attend "the night class", where the lessons become more brutal and, in some cases, criminal.   Sensei's influence becomes more pronounced in Casey's life, as Casey ditches listening to soft rock for metal and begins to act aggressively towards everyone.    He's only a yellow belt, mind you, but he has tapped into a part of himself he has never allowed to be unleashed before, and like a brush fire such aggression can spin easily out of control.

I won't reveal what happens.   You suspect things with the Sensei aren't on the level, and you would be both right and wrong.    There is a third major player, Anna (Poots), a brown belt who teaches the children's class and will not ever be promoted to black belt because she's a woman, even though her skillset is clearly superior to her male counterparts.   This isn't conjecture, Sensei admits it openly as if there is nothing wrong with his misogyny.  ("No matter how hard she tries, she will never be a man").   At the end of one night class, when students engage in "cooldowns" in which members massage each other in ways which are borderline homoerotic, Casey is assigned to be massaged by Anna because "her hands are smaller and weaker".  .

The final minutes of The Art of Self-Defense are wildly over-the-top, and of course violent.   Considering the testosterone flying around, it couldn't really end any other way.    Eisenberg successfully manages to make Casey a blank slate who is easy pickings for a classic manipulator like Sensei.    That's not an easy thing to do.    Poots instills Anna with equal parts kick-ass and compassion within the same person, and the camera loves her in an Emma Stone-like way.   She is likely the only voice of sanity within the dojo.    Then there's Nivola, who played the rabbi whose wife engages in a relationship with another woman in last year's Disobedience.    He doesn't mold his Sensei after the screaming, uber-macho Kreese from the Karate Kid movies, but instead makes him a disquieting authority figure who hides his mean streak behind a façade of calm and reflection.    Nivola never raises his voice, and never needs to, and his abuse of his students is subtly unnerving and manipulative.    He can carve up people with his words as easily as he could his fists and feet.
It is one of the best supporting performances of the year. 

The Art of Self-Defense isn't a comedy, per se, but it is rich in darkly comic undertones.    The target of its venom isn't karate, or even guns, but the over-the-top masculinity which can be equally as dangerous as karate or guns.   The people in The Art of Self-Defense use karate as a way to release their rage against the world, not as self-defense or even for health and fitness.    They measure their self-worth by the color of their belts and have allowed Sensei to take control of them piece by piece, until they are simply mindless robots who have surrendered their sense of self to him.    It's sad, repugnant, and also comic and tragic at the same time.   In a way, The Art of Self-Defense is a mirror for our times. 

   

Ghostbusters (1984) * * * 1/2

Directed by:  Ivan Reitman

Starring:  Dan Aykroyd, Bill Murray, Harold Ramis, Ernie Hudson, Sigourney Weaver, Rick Moranis, William Atherton

Ghostbusters successfully combines top flight visual effects, the paranormal, and sharply observant comedy.    You wouldn't think you could meld them into one movie, but writers Aykroyd and Ramis and director Ivan Reitman manage not to overwhelm with excessive visuals and the humor derives from wit and debunking myths about ghosts.    Plus the green blob that slimes Bill Murray and wolfs down hot dogs by the dozen is endearing.  

Aykroyd and Ramis display a great deal of selflessness by allowing Bill Murray most of the movie's best lines.    The ghostbusters of the title are Doctors Peter Venkman (Murray), Raymond Stantz (Aykroyd), and Egon Spengler (Ramis), three parapsychologists fired from their university after the funding for their research is abruptly cut off.    The scientific world sees the three as incompetent frauds, but they go into business for themselves as paranormal exterminators.    If you have a problem with a ghost relentlessly haunting you, you call the Ghostbusters.   Armed with nuclear powered proton packs on their backs, the guys roam the city tracking and capturing ghosts and spirits.  

Business booms, capturing the attention of city bureaucrat Walter Peck (Atherton), who comes snooping around the abandoned firehouse which has been converted into the Ghostbusters' offices.   Peck has never seen equipment like this and practically licks his lips at the prospect of shutting down and fining the good doctors.   Peck's presence soon makes things a whole lot worse, and the Ghostbusters not only have to battle a gigantic supernatural monster from another dimension, but all of the ghosts they previously caught who escape thanks to Peck. 

In the mix is Dana Barrett (Weaver), one of the first clients who calls after eggs cook themselves on her kitchen counter.    After investigating numerous strange events in her apartment building, we learn the building was constructed as a conduit of the supernatural which will threaten at the very least all of New York City, if not the world.    Peter likes Dana, and is more interested in dating her than he is about any of the ghost stuff.    Murray, behind his nearly impenetrable wall of sarcasm and sly asides, barely takes his profession seriously, which isn't a million miles removed from his camp counselor supervisor in Meatballs and his army recruit in Stripes.    Which isn't to say it isn't funny, because it surely is.

Aykroyd and Ramis are the straight men serving up grooved fastballs for Murray to knock out of the park.    They are obsessed with the occult, to the point where it seems they've foregone any meaningful outside relationships.    Winston Zeddemore (Hudson) is brought aboard as the fourth Ghostbuster when the workload gets to be too much, and he doesn't necessarily need to believe in ghosts to work as a ghostbuster.   ("If it pays, I'll agree to anything you say,").    But of course he is transformed after witnessing the craziness.

Ghostbusters represented a risky comic gamble which at one point became the highest grossing comedy of all time.    It was made with just the right touches, and doesn't sacrifice the humor at the expense of loud visual effects.    Despite the big budget and scope, Ghostbusters at its heart contains the same spirit as Animal House, and that is very high praise indeed.

Ghostbusters II (1989) * * *

Directed by:  Ivan Reitman

Starring:  Dan Aykroyd, Bill Murray, Harold Ramis, Sigourney Weaver, Rick Moranis, Annie Potts, Kurt Fuller, Harris Yulin, Ernie Hudson, Peter MacNicol

To my surprise, I searched my blog and realized I didn't review the original Ghostbusters (1984), which successfully melded science fiction and comedy.    Three parapsychologists (Murray, Aykroyd, and Ramis) strike out on their own as paranormal exterminators for those experiencing problems with ghosts and spirits.    Business is booming, and soon the guys (who included a fourth Ghostbuster in order to help with the workload) are battling a supernatural monster who threatens to destroy the Earth.   A gigantic marshmallow man figures into the equation, but I'll let you witness how.  

Ghostbusters II was a hit sequel, although less well-received by critics, and the 2016 Ghostbusters featuring all female leads fared even worse (I happened to like it by the way).    This sequel recycles the formula from the original, but it is still funny, with Bill Murray once again getting the lion's share of one-liners.  

Ghostbusters II picks up a few years after the Ghostbusters saved the planet from certain doom.    The thanks they received was a judicial restraining order shutting them down, and the guys went their separate ways.    Ray and Winston (Aykroyd and Hudson) dress up as Ghostbusters for bratty kids at birthday parties who would rather see He-Man.   Egon (Ramis) conducts dubious scientific experiments, while Peter (Murray) hosts a TV show about psychics.    Peter's old flame from the first film Dana (Weaver) asks for their help when her baby carriage takes off on its own down busy Manhattan streets with the infant still inside.

Their research reveals the presence of rivers of slime flowing underneath the streets of New York, a physical manifestation of negative emotions, which will soon ooze its way to the surface.  Meanwhile, Viggo the Carpathian, an evil fifteenth century ruler whose portrait is in a creepy painting, comes alive and demands Dana's child be brought to him by 11:59 pm on New Year's Eve as a catalyst of his rebirth.   Why this self-imposed deadline?   I have no clue, but I always find it funny when evil plans can somehow be thwarted because the child is brought to him at 12:02 am on January 1, instead of 11:59 pm on December 31.   Who created the deadline?    Is it in the evildoers' instruction manual?

No matter.   The Ghostbusters race against time and the ooze which wreaks havoc on the city.   How do they combat the slime?    Jackie Wilson and The Statue of Liberty play a part, but this isn't as funny as the presence of the genial marshmallow giant from the first film.    But, at least the sequel tries to outdo its predecessor instead of simply being happy as a retread.    Ghostbusters II has big shoes to fill, and although the movie falls short of the original's brilliance, it is still quite amusing on its own merits. 

Stripes (1981) * * *

Directed by:  Ivan Reitman

Starring:  Bill Murray, Warren Oates, Harold Ramis, John Candy, John Larroquette, Judge Reinhold, Sean Young, P.J. Soles, John Diehl

John Winger (Murray) is having such a bad day that joining the army seems like the cure to what ails him.    In a two-hour window, he loses his job, his girlfriend walks out on him because of his immaturity, his car is repossessed, and he won't have anywhere to live.    He talks his level-headed buddy Russell (Ramis) into joining the army with him, framing it as if they were going away to camp together.   John doesn't take one minute of basic training seriously, much to the rising agitation of his drill sergeant (Oates), an army lifer who doesn't take guff from anyone.

Stripes shows us how John matures (somewhat) during his time in the army and becomes the de facto leader of his ragtag unit, especially when the drill sergeant is put out of a commission by an errant bomb.    The story is reminiscent of Private Benjamin (1980), but it never makes the mistake of making its main character boring.    Murray had a few movies under his belt by the time Stripes was released and had the dry wit down pat, which is all he needs to turn the army into his personal playground.

The unit itself contains some memorable characters as well, including Ox (Candy), a nice fat guy who sees the army as a way to lose weight, Psycho (Conrad Dunn) who doesn't like anyone calling him by his birth name, and Cruiser (Diehl), a dimwit who takes poker advice from Ox while he's playing him.    The first half of Stripes is funnier than the second half, which involves the unit being sent to Italy to watch after the army's latest urban assault vehicle, which is like an RV with built-in flamethrower and ammunition.    The ending involves gunfire, chases, and explosions, with John and Russell as unlikely heroes even though they steal the vehicle to visit their girlfriends in Germany.  

Despite the weaker second half, Stripes follows a successful formula which Bill Murray employed often in his comedies.   It's difficult for the army or even the ghosts in Ghostbusters to break him because his wall of sarcasm is impregnable, and in these cases even necessary in order for him to maintain his sanity.   How can you rattle a guy who finds everything amusing in the first place?   

Collateral (2004) * * * 1/2

Directed by:  Michael Mann

Starring:  Tom Cruise, Jamie Foxx, Jada Pinkett Smith, Javier Bardem, Mark Ruffalo, Peter Berg, Barry Shabaka Henley, Irma P. Hall

Collateral isn't just an atmospheric noir thriller about a contract killer forcing a meek cab driver to chauffeur him to perform the hits he was hired to execute.   It is also about how the cab driver is transformed from a dreamer into a man of action, all while being held hostage.   The cab driver, Max (Foxx) is a different person at the end of a long Los Angeles night than he was before he had the misfortune of picking up Vincent (Cruise), who we learn soon enough isn't a slick businessman, but a hit man.    Collateral becomes a story about how no one can help Max out of his dilemma but himself.

Vincent is disarmingly friendly.   He chats with Max, learns about his desire to own his own limousine service, and asks him to make an innocuous stop at an apartment complex and wait for him in the back alley.    Moments later, a body riddled with bullets falls from the sky onto the cab's windshield courtesy of Vincent and Max quickly understands the gravity of the situation.  Max's first fare right before Vincent was Annie (Smith), an attorney working a high-profile case against a drug dealer.   She and Max like each other, and she gives Max her card before she leaves the cab.   How and why she is relevant to the story is made clear later on, and this is the spark which ignites Max.

Vincent is able to somehow compartmentalize his work from himself: "I didn't kill him, he fell, the bullets killed him,"   He approaches his job with cool detachment and efficiency.   Max begs to be let go, and Vincent cruelly dangles that carrot in front of him before pulling it away.   This was the first film in which Cruise has played a full-on villain, and he is very good at it.   Watch the scene where he toys with another victim, a jazz club owner who once played with Miles Davis.   Vincent loves jazz, and may even lean towards sparing the guy, or is he just cruelly playing with the man's emotions like a fiddle? 

Before Collateral and his Oscar-winning role in Ray (2004), Jamie Foxx appeared in bawdy comedies, but made an impact in Michael Mann's Ali (2001) as a dramatic actor.    He was the ideal choice to play the tentative Max, who dreams big but is sidetracked by life into making his dreams a reality.   He finds he can't dream himself away from Vincent, he must think and act his way out of his dilemma.    An undercover police officer who discovers the first murder (Ruffalo) links this to his working theory that Vincent has also kidnapped other cabbies in other cities to drive him around only to dispose of them at the end.    Will the cop be able to save Max?

A lot of Collateral takes place inside Max's cab, with Vincent verbally jabbing at Max's inaction about starting his own business and whether or not to call Annie.   Vincent underestimates Max, until a critical and satisfying point in the film where he learns he can't take Max lightly anymore.    Max sizes up Vincent as a sociopath who "lacks standard parts that are supposed to be there in most people,"    To be a contract killer, that needs to be the case, as Vincent points out as he removes himself from the moral implications of his job because to him, nothing is personal.

Collateral works so efficiently and so well because of the unforced chemistry between Foxx and Cruise, and the eerie presentation of Los Angeles.    A few miles away, stars are born in Hollywood.   Riches and the good life are there for the taking, but we also witness the underbelly of the city beneath the glamour.    Max drives people because he is stuck in his life.    It is odd karma that Vincent, who has no plans to let Max live at the end of the night, is the catalyst for Max to spring into action at long last. 

Stuber (2019) * *

Directed by:  Michael Dowse

Starring:  Kumail Nunjiani, Dave Bautista, Natalie Morales, Mira Sorvino, Betty Gilpin, Iko Uwais, Karen Gillan

Stuber isn't awful, but not distinguishable from countless other cop-buddy movies.    Kumail Nunjiani (of Silicon Valley and The Big Sick) and Dave Bautista (of WWE and Guardians of the Galaxy) are able to keep Stuber afloat for much longer than you would expect with the unique energy each brings, but soon enough the entire movie sputters to a halt like the electric car Stu (Nunjiani) uses as a moonlighting Uber driver.

The opening action sequences see gruff, hulking cop Vic Manning (Bautista) and his partner Morris (Gillan--also from Guardians of the Galaxy) tracking down elusive heroin dealer Teijo (Uwais) in a posh hotel.    Gunfire ensues, and Vic battles Teijo mano y mano.   This Teijo, with bleached blond hair and a slight build, must be part Terminator and part Michael Myers.    From my recollection, Teijo is brutalized by Vic's powerful punches, hit with a hard wooden object of some kind, and thrown through a wall, but quickly recovers and flees.   Vic drops a room service cart on Teijo as he attempts to make his way to the ground floor, thus causing Teijo to crash land onto the cement floor.    No worries.   Teijo is able to dust this off and run outside, where he is confronted by Morris, possibly shot, and then proceeds to kill Morris with a single bullet to the stomach.    If you consider the punishment Teijo just absorbed, he must've been busting a gut that Morris would die from a measly single gunshot wound.

Some time later, Vic is still on the hunt for Teijo, and learns from his chief that the case will soon fall into federal hands.   He takes time off to have Lasik surgery performed and makes plans to see his sculptor daughter's exhibit opening.   Judging by his scene with his daughter, he has made such plans before but cop business got in the way.   Unable to see, Vic is tipped off about Teijo's whereabouts and after crashing his own car, hires Stu as an Uber driver to travel Los Angeles in search of Teijo.   Stu points out how bringing a civilian along as a partner breaks all kinds of laws, but we allow the movie its contrivances.

Stu has issues of his own, including a full-time job at a sporting goods store under the thumb of an arrogant rich kid and his unrequited love for Becca (Gilpin), who has friend-zoned him and uses him to fork over his life savings to help her open a spin gym.    Stu isn't keen on investing the money, but he hopes the gesture would help Becca fall for him.    She likes former LA Laker players, so Stu has little shot of moving from the friend zone.    He is an Uber driver on nights and weekends, but a recent series of mishaps with rides has caused his rating to plummet.    He is such desperate need for a five-star rating from his clients that he stocks up on water and specialty chocolates to offer to riders.

Vic is an angry guy with a single-minded obsession to capture Teijo, even at the expense of his daughter and Stu's safety.    Stu is a meeker, kinder, gentler soul who is naturally nonplussed to have to keep a handcuffed suspect in the back seat of his car, and even more disturbed to have to hold the guy at gunpoint.    Vic and Stu argue about Stu's supposed lack of manhood and Vic's overly aggressive machismo, while peppering in bloody gunfights, explosions, car chases, and fistfights where Vic hits people so hard it is a wonder he doesn't decapitate them with one punch.    Teijo, of course, can shrug these haymakers off with little worry.    The funniest thing in the movie is how the filmmakers try to stage the one-on-one battles between Vic and Teijo as a fair fight.    Or even the ludicrous fistfight between Vic and Stu at the sporting goods store where they throw everything but the kitchen sink at each other and both are somehow still standing. 

Neither Bautista nor Nunjiani is asked to stretch much from their personas, but they still maintain an unusual comic chemistry which makes the ride at least tolerable for a while.    Nunjiani's understated delivery is a contrast to Vic's direct barking of monosyllabic orders.   Stuber isn't really about this mismatched pair, but instead a typical action movie featuring a pair of actors you would never expect to share top billing.  

50 First Dates (2004) * * *

Directed by:  Peter Segal

Starring:  Adam Sandler, Drew Barrymore, Blake Clark, Sean Astin, Rob Schneider, Dan Aykroyd

Henry Roth (Sandler) is a victim of the cruelest kind of karma.    He is a veterinarian at a Hawaii Sea World who makes a habit of bedding female tourists and then never contacting them again.    The one-night stands are good enough for him.    But then one day in a local diner, he meets Lucy (Barrymore) and he really likes her.    Enough even to go back and see her a few more times.    But, as fate would have it, Lucy was involved in a car accident recently which affected her short term memory in a unique way:   Her brain erases any memory of what happened that day and the next day she awakes with a clean slate.    The only things she remembers are what happened up to the accident, but nothing else.    Her loving father and brother go to enormous, exhausting lengths not to traumatize Lucy with the truth and tell Henry to get out of her life because such a relationship is fruitless.   In a way, any time he spends with Lucy would be the equivalent of a one-night stand.  

50 First Dates came at a time when word of an Adam Sandler movie would more often than not cause groans from this reviewer.    Sandler has talent, and in the right circumstances he can be quite effective, but he tended to gravitate towards movies which appealed to the lowest common denominator.    But, like The Wedding Singer, Sandler teams with Drew Barrymore and they make a nice, easily likable couple, even with the minor hitch of her forgetting him when she wakes up the next morning.   

You would think 50 First Dates would hang lame gags on to this premise, but it surprises with its intelligent handling of the problem at hand.    It isn't just concept.    Henry deeply cares for Lucy, so much so that he is willing to work around Lucy's issues, which would severely hamper any budding romance.    He finds a way, using videotapes, to remind Lucy of who he is and that yesterday was a great day.    Lucy's family becomes convinced of his love for her, because if he is willing to undertake this much extra effort, he has to be the real deal.

Sandler doesn't spend any time yelling at anyone or behaving with hostility towards others.   It's refreshing to see him tackle a romantic lead, and equally refreshing to see a movie actually attempt to deal with its central problem rather than just lamely try and squeeze laughs from it.    50 First Dates does have its moments of gross out humor involving a nauseated walrus, but this movie made me wish Sandler would choose scripts which stretched him more often. 

Spider Man: Far from Home (2019) * * *

Directed by:  Jon Watts

Starring:  Tom Holland, Jake Gyllenhaal, Zendaya, Samuel L. Jackson, Cobie Smulders, Martin Starr, JB Smoove, Jacob Batalon, Jon Favreau, Tony Revolori, Remy Hii, Angourie Rice, Marisa Tomei

For those who did not see Avengers: Endgame and have no clue of its outcome, go to another review because I will reveal information from it.    Spider Man: Far from Home commences shortly after "The Blip", the five years after the people vaporized into nothingness from Thanos' finger snap.   Those who disappeared have now returned, and the news announcements at Peter Parker's high school play an In Memoriam tribute to those Avengers who died during Endgame.   The one who affects Spider Man and the events of Far from Home the most is his mentor Tony Stark/Iron Man. 

Peter and the other students who vanished and returned are adjusting to the fact that they haven't aged a day, but their counterparts who didn't disappear have aged naturally.    The school district is apparently unmoved by the plight of the Blippers (my term, not the movie's) and makes them take exams and classes all over again.    With summer looming, Peter/Spider Man (Holland) just wants to take it easy and go on a summer trip to Europe with his classmates.    Spider Man is all fought out, and plans to move out of the friend zone with MJ (Zendaya), who hides her feelings behind snark and intelligence.   This is the type of behavior which may seem endearing at first, but if she's still acting that way in one year or so, Peter should find a new girlfriend.

Peter won't get much of a chance to relax, because trouble is brewing from another dimension and Nick Fury (Jackson) is of course on the case.    A village in Mexico was destroyed by a cyclone which was actually an unworldly creature from another Earthly (or non-Earthly) dimension.    While Fury and his partner Agent Hill (Smulders) are on the scene, the creature reappears as does a superhero who can battle the giant with apparent superpowers.   Fury recruits this superhero, named Quentin Beck aka Mysterio (Gyllenhaal) to battle the mythical beasts who seemingly bled from one reality into this one.   

Fury doesn't have as much luck recruiting Peter for the mission, because he really, really wants to tour Venice, but Fury doesn't take no for an answer, and soon a reluctant Peter joins Beck to battle the monsters before they destroy other European cities.   Beck is like a supportive big brother towards Peter, and not what he seems.   When Beck finally shows us his cards, it shifts the nature of what has gone before and the explanation more or less makes sense.  

Like Spider Man: Homecoming, Far from Home is a lot of fun, although the CGI and blurring alternate realities set up by Beck to thwart Spider Man can be confusing.   Gyllenhaal taps into his Louis Bloom character from Nightcrawler and ups the wattage, driven by personal revenge against Tony Stark and Avenger envy.   Of the three actors who played Spidey in the last seventeen years, Holland is the most believable teenager and the most convincing as a gullible, likable kid who grows into his responsibility as an Avenger in the post-Iron Man era.   Holland is 23, but seems more age appropriate than Tobey Maguire and Andrew Garfield, both fine actors in the their own right, but let's face it, they were long in the tooth to play a teenage Peter Parker.

Far from Home is a bit darker than Homecoming, and once you sit through the additional scenes following the credits, (as custom in Marvel movies), Far from Home takes on a slant similar to the one in The Dark Knight, in which the hero is made out to be the villain who has to hide in the shadows.    This Spider Man series could indeed be the Dark Knight trilogy of the Spider Man sagas, and that is always a good thing.

Yesterday (2019) * * *

Directed by:  Danny Boyle

Starring:  Himesh Patel, Lily James, Kate McKinnon, Ed Sheeran, James Corden

Jack Malik (Patel) is a struggling musician.    His career, consisting of pathetic gigs attended only by his friends and his ever-optimistic best friend/manager Ellie (James), appears to be over as Jack is mulling a return to teaching.   Then, a miracle occurs.   As Jack is riding home on his bike one night, the power goes out worldwide for twelve seconds and Jack is hit by a bus.   After being released from the hospital, Jack plays Yesterday by the Beatles at his welcome home party and no one recognizes it.    Ellie is floored.   "When did you write that?", she marvels, and Jack is puzzled.  Surely, they're pulling his leg.  No one had ever heard of Yesterday?  Or The Beatles?

Well, Jack searches for The Beatles on the internet and the closest match is to the insect.   Realizing this is not a prank, Jack takes a hard look at himself and determines to revive his music career by passing off The Beatles' songs as his own.    What's the harm?    In this strange alternate universe, no one knows who The Beatles are except for Jack, so why not pretend you wrote some of the greatest songs ever written and make kajillions in the process?   

This is the amusing concept for Yesterday, which is surprisingly able to provide a heartfelt payoff to the concept.    One of the misgivings I had about watching Yesterday's trailers is wondering whether writer Richard Curtis and director Danny Boyle can provide a substantial third act after such an intriguing setup.   The story ends as you would expect, but finds inspiration from a poignant source.   I won't reveal what that is, but the meeting between Jack and a certain someone who in this world is but a humble artist packs a punch.

Jack amusingly struggles to recall the words to Eleanor Rigby and some other Beatles songs as he tries to "write" them, but he remembers a lot and he is suddenly cutting an album, touring worldwide with Ed Sheeran, and being wooed by a bottom-line obsessed record label executive who believes Jack could be the biggest music star the world had ever seen.    Even bigger, then...The Beatles.    All Jack has to do is keep remembering the music and lyrics and the cash can be printed.    There are complications, such as objections to Jack wanting to call his album "The White Album" (because it may offend those of other races), and Jack's fears of being exposed as a fraud, but these are minor quibbles as Jack hurdles towards fame.  

Then there's Ellie, who makes her love for Jack so obvious I wondered for a while if Jack was perhaps gay, since he steadfastly refuses to recognize her signals.    Lily James has a smile and eyes to die for, and we can only shake our heads as Jack continually fails to notice this.    Both Patel and James are warm and likable.    Most of the people in Yesterday are, except for Debra (McKinnon), the reptilian record executive whose greed borders on self-parody.

Without going into much detail, Yesterday ends as you figured it might (I will at least admit that all of this is definitively not a dream, thank goodness), although if Paul, John, George, and Ringo still exist as people but not as the writers of the songs, then who wrote them?    Where would the royalty checks be sent?    You'll see what I mean.    But, Yesterday still succeeds as a high-concept movie which could've easily faltered in the third act.    What Jack does makes him a candidate for sainthood, but in the context of one character's words of wisdom, "I'm happy, so I'm successful," Jack's actions and their aftermath make sense.