Molly’s Game works as well as it does due to the sheer vitality of Jessica Chastain’s performance. As an actor, she isn’t the most overt emoter, and she doesn’t need to be. She manages to draw an incredible amount of empathy out of her characters, always in control but willing to let the cracks in the armor show. She is one of the most remarkably restrained, yet emotionally potent, actors in Hollywood. She excels at taking these strong, resolute women through hell and back, coming out stronger and more complex while being very aware of the gender dynamics of her characters. Molly Bloom is by necessity steely and crafty, but she is also a human being in a world that oftentimes has no regard for humanity. As Bloom, Chastain is a scorching force of nature. It’s easy to praise her more dramatic moments later in the film, but watch her every move during her initial rise to power. You want to root for Molly as she begins to learn, as she faces disrespect from her boss, as she gains more and more confidence.
Lady Bird Review
7 NovIt’s…good. It’s one of those well-made films that has nothing glaringly wrong with it and is impossible to hate because of the palpable passion behind the camera. However, it’s also one of those films that seems to get its mileage out of how much the audience connects with it, and any connection to it for me is on a smaller and more transient level. There are little moments throughout that are stunningly beautiful in their simplicity–a few pieces of paper late in the film hold a tremendous amount of power–but Gerwig’s slice of life approach doesn’t always translate to meaningful depth for every character and dynamic. I’m left marveling at a few select sequences and appreciating Gerwig’s grounded approach, but I’m also left wondering “Is that it?” as the credits roll. Clearly the approach here is true to real life, and perhaps the hype influenced my slightly underwhelmed reaction, but the film overall doesn’t quite have that element that pushes its collective whole into “great” territory. It’s solid but not special. And you know, that’s perfectly fine.
Suburbicon Review
30 OctNot particularly funny, insightful, or well constructed, and the first half is a complete bore with very little in the way of effective buildup. Then the always incredible Oscar Isaac shows up, and he singlehandedly provides the film with a healthy ass kicking all the way through its conclusion. He more than Clooney seems to embrace the zany energy that the brothers bring to even their lower tier scripts, and he does so much with so little that you’re left wondering why the film didn’t revolve around him. Nevertheless, the mini crescendo jumpstarted by his character at the end is a lot of fun to watch, and there’s a dark absurdity to some of the images that oozes Coen brothers (not to mention Robert Elswit, PTA’s regular guy and one of the best cinematographers alive).
Here’s where the film completely and utterly fails: every single attempt to tie the main storyline into a commentary on race. The initial juxtapositions are fine: a white family’s violent exploits and a black family just trying to live, the violence of a mob and the tranquility of a family home, the pristine nature of a suburban neighborhood and the tensions drawn over race. But if a film wants points for absurdity through juxtaposition–and believe me, I love things like that–it simply cannot have such a poor grasp on its tone. The storyline with the black family feels both deadly serious and entirely superfluous, a poor combination given the nature of the rest of the film. I get the gist: people in the neighborhood are so preoccupied with a perceived intrusion on their sanitized way of life that they don’t realize the real ugliness is happening right under their noses (and in turn, being facilitated by them). There’s a way to approach that in an effective manner, but every time Clooney and co. attempt to, the film screeches to a halt. Whatever, I love Oscar Isaac. Also, I got Clooney’s autograph at the premiere so all is good.
The Florida Project Review
5 OctThe Florida Project is about limitations. The characters are fenced in, their futures volatile and insecure, their places of residence so geographically close to privilege yet so far. There are limitations placed on their employment options, their housing options, and even their pizza topping options. Willem Dafoe’s character acts like a sheriff at times, ensuring that people are paying what they owe and that others are limited from venturing onto the premises. The premises themselves are run-down and grimy in many places, and certain scenes exude sadness without even trying.












