I’m so sorry that Cocaine Bear is your first big screen posthumous release (although I guess I’m glad it’s not your last?).
And I’m particularly sorry that the movie ends on a title card that says “In Loving Memory of Ray Liotta.”
You deserve so much better…
Anyway, Cocaine Bear, the new “based” “on” “a” “true” “story” feature film (it did make the Times, to be fair; although there aren’t enough quotation marks in the world for this “adaptation”) from writer Jimmy Warden and director Elizabeth Banks (neither of whom I’m eager to see in those roles ever again) is not especially humorous, horrifying, or heartwarming, despite attempting to be all three in a roughly ninety-minute span.
To be fair, I did laugh out loud a few times, so I can’t say that Cocaine Bear is a comedy that never tickled my funny bone, but… I also just saw Munich for the first time the other night, and I’m pretty sure I laughed out loud more during that movie, which, I don’t know if you’ve ever seen Munich, but, it is decidedly not a comedy.
Look, making a film is many things, but one very important aspect is making creative choices and committing to them.
This is supposed to be a period piece, right? It’s supposed to take place in 1985?
They got things like the vehicles right, and I guess the music, and, for the most part, the clothes, but none of the characters act like they’re in the 1980s (all the news footage and PSAs in the world can’t convince me otherwise). They just act like characters in a crappy contemporary comedy. You could have moved this story up to 2022 and it would barely (bear-ly?) affect the final product.
And, I’m sorry, but if you can find me a uniform (not undercover) cop in Knoxville, Tennessee in 1985 who ever looked like this… I’ll buy you a delicatessen, in stainless steel!
Another failing, and I can’t pinpoint it specifically, because I don’t know what was in the screenplay nor what scenes were actually shot, but the movie sometimes feels like there was a two-hour version that got cut down with no logic behind the decision-making. Not so much that the film is incomprehensible, but more that, rather than cutting down one particular subplot to reduce the runtime, it seems like they cut pieces from every subplot, leaving the movie feeling more than a little underbaked.
And, finally, I’m always squeamish about criticizing performances, because, by-and-large, actors simply do whatever directors demand of them, and then the editing process can make-or-break performances even more so, but, if the best performance in your movie filled with professional actors comes from a social media star (in the best sequence in the movie, to be honest), that’s probably not a great sign.
Overall, I wouldn’t say I hated Cocaine Bear. Like I said, it did make me laugh a few times, but it’s just such a missed opportunity across the board. It actually could have been really funny, or scary, or heartwarming, or any combination of the three, but, in the end, it’s just a damp squib.
Sorry, Ray.
Rating: ★★☆☆☆
P.S. If you’re looking for an underseen movie with Ray Liotta that’s actually good, I can’t recommend The Iceman highly enough.
Cocaine Bear (2023) Directed by Elizabeth Banks Written by Jimmy Warden Cast: Keri Russell, O’Shea Jackson Jr, Alden Ehrenreich, Christian Convery, Brooklynn Prince, Isiah Whitlock Jr., Margo Martindale, Ray Liotta, Jesse Tyler Ferguson, Aaron Holliday, J.B. Moore, Leo Hanna, Matthew Rhys, Kristofer Hivju, Hannah Hoekstra, Ayoola Smart, Kahyun Kim, Scott Seiss Soundtrack: Mark Mothersbaugh
It’s been a long time since I talked about multiple contemporary movies at one time, but it feels good to be back to it; gives me a particular sense of normalcy that I haven’t felt in a while.
Honestly, I wasn’t even remotely interested in Denis Villeneuve’s Dune until I happened to see David Lynch’s Dune (which Lynch famously disowns) earlier this year (because God knows I’ll never read any of Frank Herbert’s novels, though I mean him no disrespect).
This makes it tough for me to both evaluate and recommend the Dune of 2021 (now confirmed as Part 1 of at least a duology, if not a trilogy).
I knew what was happening in the 2021 version because I knew what happened in 1984’s adaptation, but I’m not totally sure how an uninitiated general audience member would feel.
That said, one thing I can say with assurance is that Dune might just be Denis Villeneuve’s best-looking movie, which is really saying something after, you know, Blade Runner 2049, but it’s true.
Frankly, if all this movie is is a visual update on the 1984 adaptation with significantly more time to tell its story, that’s enough, especially in IMAX; however, as somebody who actually enjoys Lynch’s version, I wouldn’t call Villeneuve’s update leaps-and-bounds better, but it’s more than worthy.
I certainly haven’t heard many complaints from fans of the novels, for whatever that’s worth.
Rating: ★★★★☆
It’s Wes Anderson. What do you want?
Honestly, The French Dispatch might be his worst movie, but in the end I still liked it [just enough to revisit it again somewhere down the road].
Now, nothing about The French Dispatch is going to sway anyone who isn’t already a Wes Anderson fan. Compared to his last two live-action efforts in particular (Moonrise Kingdom and The Grand Budapest Hotel), it doesn’t even compare in charm and amusement, but his filmmaking style is still unique among his peers, which is worth seeing, and, as I would say of all his features, there is a heart to it, even if it’s noticeably slow to reveal itself this time.
If you do decide to see it, see it on the biggest screen you can, as centered as you can, because the aspect ratio and color change frequently, even if the camera itself is usually locked down.
As the saying goes, every frame is a painting, but some frames are more compelling than others.
Rating: ★★★½ (out of five)
This is going to sound strange, because they are VERY different movies, but I’d compare Edgar Wright’s Last Night in Soho to Guy Ritchie’s The Gentlemen, in that there are undeniable hallmarks of both directors’ styles in each film, but on the whole, they are far from the hypothetical versions of the movies that we would have gotten from them, say, fifteen years ago (in other words, they’re maturing).
Specifically to the style of Last Night in Soho though, I’d call it a cross between Wes Craven (e.g. Nightmare on Elm Street) and Dario Argento (e.g Suspiria).
However, I won’t say anything about the plot in particular (not that I usually do anyway), because one of my favorite things about the movie is how it just throws you in without explaining a whole lot.
In the end, it’s not my favorite from Edgar Wright, nor do I think it’s his best overall work (though it is a triumph in terms of the visual nitty-gritty: set design, costumes, etc.), but I appreciate his effort to evolve (and I think having a writing partner definitely helped this time), so I will both strongly recommend Last Night in Soho and be excited to see what he does next.
Rating: ★★★★☆
Antlers is being marketed with Guillermo Del Toro’s name (apparently he was a producer on it, as was multi-time Christopher Nolan collaborator, David S. Goyer), but I couldn’t care less.
I was always in on this movie for one name and one name only: Scott Cooper.
Not that he has a flawless filmography as a director (Black Mass in particular was more like Black Mess), but after Hostiles (one of the best Westerns of recent vintage) I was down for whatever came next, and, for the most part, I was not disappointed.
Based on the short story “The Quiet Boy” by Nick Antosca (who also worked on the screenplay), itself inspired by a particular piece of Native American folklore, Antlers feels like a slightly more contemporary version of a 1980s Stephen King adaptation (Silver Bullet, Christine, et al) with its small town, slow burn feel.
(I would also describe it as A24’s version of The Pit, but if that doesn’t sway you just forget I said it.)
My only real disappointment is, for one, the movie probably could have been trimmed down to a solid ninety minutes, but, more importantly, there’s some creature imagery that I wish would have been done 100% practically, or just straight up Hitchcockian (shadowed/obscured); the film still would have worked without the “money shots”.
Still, for where the horror genre is these days, Antlers is pretty solid.
(All Planet of the Apes films inspired by Pierre Boulle’s novel La Planète des Singes aka Monkey Planet, but you probably already knew that.)
None of this should have worked.
The original 1968 Planet of the Apes movie is a total classic, and Lord knows it was followed up by many a sequel of, shall we way, differingquality. Not to mention that epic fail of a remake in 2001.
So why reboot the franchise with a prequel (of all things) more than forty years after the original film?
I don’t know. I still don’t know. But I’m glad they did it.
“They” in this case being husband and wife super-team Rick Jaffa and Amanda Silver, who wrote and produced the first of these new films, and who have remained on as guiding hands (to say the least) ever since. Whereas so many reboots/remakes/sequels/prequels/re-imaginings/etc. feel like cynical cash grabs, the Jaffa/Silver Apes movies seem to have a passion for the material that shines through, and I think a lot of that is owed to Rick and Amanda.
I’ve said it before; I’ll say it again. These films are the paragon of “movies that nobody wanted or needed, but we’re getting them anyway.” They are well-executed, emotionally moving works of art, but even beyond that, they are pushing the envelope of filmmaking.
Historically, I’m an anti-CGI guy, and I still very much am when the practical will look better, but, in the case of these films, what they’ve been able to do with motion capture technology and digital rendering is beyond outstanding; though, of course, without quality writing, I don’t know how much it would matter, but I digress.
Let’s get to it.
Original Release Date: August 5, 2011
Directed by Rupert Wyatt Written by Rick Jaffa & Amanda Silver Cast: Andy Serkis, Karin Konoval, Terry Notary, Richard Ridings, Christopher Gordon, Devyn Dalton, Jay Caputo, James Franco, Freida Pinto, John Lithgow, Brian Cox, Tom Felton, David Oyelowo, Tyler Labine, Ty Olsson, James Pizzinato, Dean Redman, Sandy Robson, Timothy Webber Soundtrack: Patrick Doyle
To think this all started with just one ape…
We weren’t quite ready for this back in 2011 (I know I missed it for sure).
Not that Rise of the Planet of the Apes (or ROTPOTA, as it’s often abbreviated) didn’t do well at the box office (it was actually right in line with the major superhero releases of the year, which is impressive), but I think most people were so caught up with “OMG, CGI MONKEYS” that a lot of actual film criticism went out the window.
I say all this because, upon further review, Rise of the Planet of the Apes is nearly perfect. It’s a film that thrives on the “show, don’t tell” philosophy, using visual storytelling as a means of both exposition and character development in order to move us through a rather sprawling plot (in terms of passage of time) at an expeditious but not overwhelming pace. In different hands, this movie easily could have been two and a half hours long, completely bloated, and needlessly bogged down in the details (and/or unmotivated action schlock), but Rupert Wyatt and company knew well enough to keep things moving. I’m not saying all of the logic is flawless, but it’s more-than-acceptable movie logic.
In terms of the cast, I’m not the biggest James Franco fan in general, but I think he does just fine here, and that’s largely true of everybody else (especially John Lithgow, who, range-wise, has the most to do). If I have one minor criticism, it’s that a few of the more antagonistic characters are maybe just a touch too arch, but there’s nothing that’ll take you completely out of the movie. By-and-large, everybody feels pretty real.
Of course, the true stars (of all of these movies) are the motion capture actors; most notably Andy Serkis as “Caesar”, but I’ll throw in Terry Notary (who’s no one trick ape) as “Rocket” and Karin Konoval (who gets a human cameo in this film) as “Maurice” as well. They’re really the Kirk, Spock, and McCoy of this franchise, and the range of emotion they bring is ultimately what transcends the digital divide to make everything work.
If you haven’t seen Rise, or even if you have, I highly recommend a repeat viewing. The effects have aged slightly in six years (especially compared to the later films), but the story and storytelling still holds up, and it’s eminently entertaining while still packing an emotional punch (I was honestly moved to tears at the end).
Rating: ★★★★½
Original Release Date: July 11, 2014
Directed by Matt Reeves Written by Mark Bomback and Rick Jaffa & Amanda Silver Cast: Andy Serkis, Jason Clarke, Gary Oldman, Keri Russell, Toby Kebbell, Kodi Smit-McPhee, Kirk Acevedo, Nick Thurston, Terry Notary, Karin Konoval, Judy Greer, Keir O’Donnell, Kevin Rankin Soundtrack: Michael Giacchino
One of the beauties of the Mad Max series is that you can watch any of them without knowledge of the others, and still understand what’s happening and why. This is also true of these Apes films, and Dawn handles it particularly elegantly (fair to say it’s The Road Warrior to Rise‘s Mad Max, in terms of pre- vs. post-apocalypse).
It’s a shame that Rupert Wyatt, for whatever reason, wan’t able to return to direct after doing such a great job with Rise, but Matt Reeves has proven to be no slouch.
Dawn of the Planet of the Apes (DOTPOTA?) is markedly different from its predecessor, but the high quality is still there (dare I say, some things are better, although it did have nearly double the budget; definitely worth it as it similarly held serve with the big superhero films of the year).
For one thing, it’s much more laconic and slower-paced than Rise, although I’d never say it drags, but, more importantly, the story is much less about constantly connecting the dots and much more about ideals and ethics (and atmosphere), like many great sci-fi stories before it (Kirk, Spock, and McCoy come to mind again). Technically, there are “villains” in this film, but it’s really different points of view at odds, both on the human side and the ape side.
The result is akin to a Shakespearean tragedy, equal parts devastating and beautiful.
One thing I have to commend this film in particular on is the production design. Unless you’re just shooting in a desert wasteland or a forest preserve (as often happened in the Eighties and Nineties), it can be difficult to convey a true sense of post-apocalyptic life, but James Chinuld and his team did a fantastic job, not only with the ape village, but “San Francisco” overrun with vegetation and the ravages of time.
I’d also be remiss if I didn’t mention Michael Giacchino’s score; not that Patrick Doyle did a bad job on Rise, but it definitely has a more generic overall sound whereas Giacchino’s score has more of a classic feel, and also works in elements reminiscent of the original ’68 film (though, again, Dawn had nearly double the budget of Rise, so you have to factor that in).
Again, the motion capture artists bring quality performances, but the human performers stand out a little more in this one (in a good way), especially Gary Oldman as a guy trying to hold an entire colony together, and I’ll give credit to Jason Clarke as well; you really believe his character and why he’s putting his life on the line for the sake of something bigger.
It’s lofty praise, but I’ve seen this film compared to The Empire Strikes Back, and I think that’s fair. It’s certainly an apt comparison in terms of the tones of the second installments relative to the first ones, and taking the stories in different directions. I don’t necessarily rate it higher than the first because I think they’re both equally successful at what they’re trying to accomplish, but, as I’ve mentioned, there’s a bit more polish thanks to the greatly increased budget.
And, yes, I teared up at the end of this one, too.
Highly recommend.
Rating: ★★★★½
Directed by Matt Reeves Written by Mark Bomback & Matt Reeves, based on characters created by Rick Jaffa & Amanda Silver Cast: Andy Serkis, Woody Harrelson, Steve Zahn, Karin Konoval, Amiah Miller, Terry Notary, Ty Olsson, Michael Adamthwaite, Toby Kebbell, Gabriel Chavarria, Judy Greer, Sara Canning, Devyn Dalton, Aleks Paunovic, Alessandro Juliani, Max Lloyd-Jones, Timothy Webber, James Pizzinato, Dean Redman, Sandy Robson Soundtrack: Michael Giacchino
“And now, the end is near…”
At last, we’ve reached the end of this trilogy (and, I hope, the end of this series, although if it keeps making money they’ll probably keep milking it until I’m dead, like Star Wars).
Right off the bat, I knew I was going to have to take points off from this movie because it does not handle the introductory catch-up as elegantly as its predecessor (title cards as opposed to clever montage). And, at the end, I felt like it was a little longer than it needed to be (although it was very late by that point), so, I just can’t rate War quite as highly as Rise or Dawn.
BUT, this is still a production of exceeding quality (especially the score; I think Michael Giacchino slightly tops himself from the last movie), and one I’d recommend without any qualms.
One last small criticism though, and I normally don’t get into plot elements for new movies, but, just to properly set expectations, I think the title of this film is slightly misleading. Yes, there’s a war on, and everything that happens is in the context of that war, but if you’re expecting a huge chunk of time devoted to battle sequences, this isn’t necessarily that movie (it’s very anti-Hobbit in that regard).
That said, one of the things I most appreciate about this film is that, despite the fact that it stars CGI apes (who at this point look nearly flawless, to be honest), it has the cinematic look and emotional tone of something from even further back than 1968. In fact, and older critics may call me blasphemous for saying this, but I very much got Sam Spiegel-David Lean vibes while watching this (which actually means we’ve come full circle, because The Bridge on the River Kwai was also based on a Pierre Boulle novel). It just has that classic of a feel to it.
Really, there’s not much else that I can say. For a third installment in a series, it’s hard to ask for much more: gorgeous to look at, emotionally engaging, and a story that feels rather timeless.
A fitting conclusion to one of the greatest movie trilogies, certainly of my lifetime, if not all-time. I can only hope more people come to appreciate its brilliance as time goes on.
Rating: ★★★★☆
Just to wrap this all up, all of these movies are strong on their own merit, but they also go the extra mile to throw in references to the original movies from the Sixties and Seventies (usually subtle; usually), which is fun and interesting for the fans.
Again, I can’t say enough how unimaginable it was before these films came out that I’d ever find myself so invested in digitally-created characters in live-action movies, but the effects people at Weta do tremendous work, guided by quality performances from quality actors.
Give this series the keys and it’ll drive your heart.
I don’t know what to tell you if it doesn’t.
P.S. Thanks to Alamo and Mondo for the incredible merchandise, as usual.
