​Tennis is one of the few sports which hasn’t been done justice on the big screen. Battle of the Sexes is one of the better attempts in recent years though it is far from great. The film recounts the 1973 tennis match between Billie Jean King (Emma Stone) and Bobby Riggs (Steve Carell) that garnered significant media coverage at the time and became a watershed moment in the sport’s history. King struggled with keeping her sexuality private while fighting to make strides in the fight for equal pay. 

This movie has some hilarious sequences and Steve Carell’s portrayal of Riggs is a big reason why. He nails the outrageous tendencies of the man and, frankly, steals the movie away from Emma Stone. Her performance as Billy Jean is fine but she is not nearly as sympathetic or relatable as Riggs. You’re clearly meant to feel for her as she deals with her own personal problems but the way she treats her husband, Larry, gets in the way of that. I was on board with her goal to change the pay gap but I found her unlikeable. Meanwhile, Riggs is clearly the chauvinistic alpha male who has a lot of insecurities but his sense of humour and general demeanor around his loved ones break through. They are both flawed characters who have their shining moments which is great though I couldn’t help but think that Billy Jean should have been more compelling a character. Maybe it is more true to life and of the real woman but it made me question rooting for her. 

There are also several moments that took me out of the film. There is an instance where Billy Jean is getting a haircut and the camera focuses on her face for about two minutes. There is no reason for a mundane scene to play out for that long except to show you that she is infatuated with the hairdresser. It makes sense because the latter becomes a central character from that point on but it could have been handled better. Subtlety is in short supply here as everything is spelled out for you in painful detail. Certain scenes would be more interesting if they weren’t executed so heavy handedly. That being said, the film gets better with time and the second half has enough payoff that satisfies. The soundtrack is pretty good, and there is a memorable car ride with Elton John’s Rocket Man blasting in the background. On a technical level, the movie is firing on all cylinders. It’s just that there are pacing issues and some scenes drag on a little. 

The film doesn’t overstay its welcome in the third act which is genuinely tense and well paced. The sets of tennis are well directed and you really get a sense that the actors are the ones playing instead of painfully obvious stunt doubles. I would recommend Battle of the Sexes with the caveat that I wish it was less on the nose because it’s a good movie but one that is held back from being great. 

Grade: B-

​Fashion has often been a fertile land for film material; The Devil Wears Prada, Zoolander, and Funny Face are some movies that come to mind. Some depict the fashion industry comically, some more dramatically, but there’s always been respect from one industry to the other. Fashion designers have even delved into filmmaking themselves, with Tom Ford and his 2016 film Nocturnal Animals being a recent edition. Only issue is, most of them aren't very good at it. 
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This year, the founders of esteemed fashion brand Rodarte and also sisters Kate and Laura Mulleavy decided to also test their strength at filmmaking with Woodshock. They wanted to channel what it was like growing up in Northern California, surrounded by the redwoods and the constant juxtaposition of the ancient trees with the contemporary, booming industries. The camera gazes upon the infinite height of the trees with the silence and solace conveyed through main character Theresa (Kirsten Dunst) wandering around in graceful white slips. Woodshock follows Kirsten Dunst in one of her most captivating roles yet, as she plays a grief-stricken, remorseful daughter trying to navigate through her Northern California world. 

Woodshock begins in media res. Theresa can’t stand to see her mother suffering from an undisclosed illness, so she rolls up a medically legal but poisoned spliff so that her mother can go out in peace. It’s peaceful, sure, but one can’t help but feel liable in her position, and the “death weed” haunts Theresa for weeks, months. The film follows Theresa’s mental decline at a sluggish pace, which matches the Northern California, pot vibe but is otherwise a bit testy. Theresa begins making deadly mistakes at work, sitting at home and eating from strictly the middle of a cake, until she eventually rolls up 6 spliffs with a little bit of the poison in each so that she may feel like she has some control of her breakdown. 

One by one, spliff by spliff, the Mulleavys experiment with accumulating synesthesia via dissolves, blue and red hues, and dream sequences. It’s both addicting to watch and tedious at times, especially when it tries to constantly hit home the linkage between cutting down trees and ending a life. It’s especially tedious when the film tries to develop other characters, all quite poorly. There’s Theresa’s coworker who I couldn’t figure out if she had romantic feelings for, an old man who gives her drawings, and even her boyfriend who only shows up at night to tell her she has problems. With less narrative and character intrusion and more experimental filmmaking, Woodshock could have been a stunner. 

Nevertheless, I appreciated the devotion these sisters have for their hometown and for nature itself. Rodarte pieces are known for their delicacy and light floral embellishments, so the Mulleavys being able to express their passion through other art modes is inspiring. The Mulleavys have indicated interest in more filmmaking, let’s hope their passion can be proclaimed with more focus.

Grade: D

Nothing is too ridiculous for Kingsman: The Golden Circle. A 50’s themed resort in the middle of the Cambodian jungle, a tracking shot that enters a woman’s vagina, and Elton John wearing a rainbow feather outfit kicking people in the head in slow motion are just par for the course in the new installment of the series. Much like the original, the movie borrows its rough plot and themes from both the James Bond series and the graphic novel source material by Mark Millar and Dave Gibbons. The film then proceeds to strip any semblance of innuendo or nuance from its inspirations and exaggerates what remains to the extremes. This isn’t a criticism, in fact, its brashness is the series’ standout feature. 
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The film’s narrative seems designed to check the boxes for a spy movie sequel. After a taxi cab battle set piece, a devastating attack by drug kingpin/50’s Americana connoisseur/Elton John fangirl/cannibal Poppy Adams (Julianne Moore) cripples the British spy organization Kingsman. In the aftermath, remaining members Eggsy (Taron Egerton), Merlin (Mark Strong), and Harry (Colin Firth) receive assistance from the Kingsman’s wealthier, more technologically advanced American cousin: The Statesmen. The two organizations then team up on a globetrotting adventure to put an end to Poppy’s nefarious plan.

Of course, the charm of a Kingsman film is not in the plot itself, but in its presentation. The Golden Circle maintains the series’ hallmark obscenity, gratuitous violence, and ludicrously over the top characters and world building. Director Matthew Vaughn’s artistic sensibilities are front and center with incredibly intricate fight choreography, kinetic editing, and uncomfortably blunt depictions of sexuality and gore. A jungle brawl late in the film is the standout sequence, combining an array of gadgets, robots, henchmen, and makeshift weaponry into a delightfully absurd mix. However, as entertaining as it is, it feels almost pedestrian compared to the go-for-broke insanity of the first film’s climax.

While none of the film’s many actors are asked to do any real heavy lifting, they are almost uniformly charming. The immense likability of the cast can actually make the viewer feel shortchanged, since the size of the cast and scope of the plot mean that each character only gets a few moments in the spotlight. Matthew Vaughn and co-writer Jane Goldman rely on the charisma of their leads to cover up the lack of character development. The Statesman members Champagne (Jeff Bridges), Tequila (Channing Tatum), and Ginger Ale (Halle Berry) suffer the most as a result, functioning as archetypes rather than characters.

The film’s treatment of its female characters disappoints as well. In The Secret Service, Roxy and Eggsy played as a superspy version of Hermione Granger and Harry Potter: platonic best friends whose skillsets complement each other. In The Golden Circle, Roxy and the rest of the women in the film serve only to advance the plot or provide motivation for the male leads. Poppy somewhat avoids this pitfall, simply by the virtue of Julianne Moore’s scenery chewing, but even she is given less characterization and screen time than the first film’s villain.

Issues extend to other areas of the film’s script. The 141-minute runtime is bloated with extraneous subplots and scenes, including another rehash of the pub fight from the first film, an abrupt detour to Glastonbury Festival, and subplots involving Harry’s recovery from the injury he sustained in The Secret Service, Eggsy and Tilde’s relationship drama, and the Oval Office during the crisis. The relatively grounded character drama doesn’t mesh very well with the darkly comic tone of the main plot and set pieces, leaving the movie feeling uneven.

The film’s politics are similarly muddled. The Golden Circle takes passing shots at politicians, the military, greed, and chauvinism as well as both pro- and anti-drug legalization activists without any real regard for consistency. It simultaneously idolizes and mocks traditional masculinity and proper manners. The film seems to know that the trappings of aristocracy are pointless, but at the same time is so enamored with them that it can’t help but to support them. In another film, it might not be as problematic, but the overall lack of subtlety in the film makes its mixed messaging more noticeable.

Based solely on aesthetic, Kingsman: The Golden Circle is an unqualified success. The mixture of cynical satire, black humor and wild action make for an intoxicating blend, but significant structural flaws hamper the film’s charms. The clunky writing stands in stark contrast to the polished production, resulting in an interesting but rather ungainly film.

Grade: B-

​“The chief enemy of creativity,” Pablo Picasso once said, “is good sense.” Director Darren Aronofsky has made a career of films centered around such artistic torment, as displayed in 1998’s Pi and 2010’s Black Swan. His latest deep-dive into madness, mother!, indirectly turns the camera on himself and metaphorically (don’t finish this sentence if you’re sensitive to “spoilers”) encapsulates the artistic process from inspiration to critical reception. Unlike his six other films which gestated with him for years, Aronofsky produced a rough draft of mother! in five days, which probably explains the self-centered plot, the limited dialogue, and maddening descent the ending takes.

Married couple Mother (Jennifer Lawrence, notably also Aronofsky’s current romantic partner) and Him (Javier Bardem) live in a ramshackle, three-story mansion in the middle of nowhere. Mother spends her days painting the ashen walls and re-installing sinks since the house experienced a disastrous fire a few years prior that only Him, an esteemed poet seeking to make his next masterpiece, survived. The vague names, questionable backstories, and remote setting leave a lot to be answered by the audience, thus allowing metaphorical translations to be truly subjective and consequently divisive. It’s part of what makes mother! so thrilling in its first half: Ed Harris and Michelle Pfeiffer appear as the house’s first unwanted guests, constantly causing turmoil and unsubtly re-enacting biblical scenes such as Cain and Abel and Noah’s Ark (except the flood is people). These, in combination with Mother discovering squishy blood seeping through the house’s floorboards and Him’s unrelenting generosity are only a handful of elements that I attempted interpreting for a larger meaning.

I’m curious what news story really set Aronofsky off to write mother!, because it jumps off the reality-bandwagon pretty drastically. Mother is soon pregnant and graces the guestless house in flowy white slips, caressing her tummy in the sunlight like a true angel. It’s peaceful and gorgeous, and one of the few times the camera isn’t pushed anxiously close to Lawrence’s face. Around the same time of the baby’s due date, Him publishes his newest work, and he attaches much of it’s credit to “the inspiration,” Mother. It’s here where mother! escapes reality entirely, swirling into possibly the most pessimistic depiction of humanity to grace the big screen. The house is swamped with devoted fans, fights break out imitating humanity’s history with warfare, people fight back against law enforcement officers and it evokes memories of recent police brutalities, parts of the house become dedicated to Him-mania, with maniacal religious services and images of Him dedicated to his genius. It’s nothing short of fucking insanity, and Aronofsky’s dedication to the metaphor is honestly enjoyable. I found myself cackling among other audience members at the absurdity taking place, leaning me on the more positive side of this divisive part of mother!.

Because who am I to expect any kind of subtlety from Aronofsky, the director who began his 2006 The Fountain with a quote from the Book of Genesis? Though preposterous to realists, mother!’s transition from Polanski horror beginning to degenerate Von Trier ending is delightful for how absolutely in Aronofsky goes with his self-critique. There’s nothing performance-worthy and the dialogue is mostly Lawrence shouting “What’s going on?” with a camera pressed up to her blood-stained face. It’s never about her or what’s going on; it’s all about Him. It always was. 

Rating: B

Anyone who is at all familiar with Stephen King’s body of work knows that it is absolutely enormous. He has released at least one book nearly every year since his debut novel Carrie in 1974, and sometimes he releases far more (in 1987 he published four). Therefore, the large number of films based on his work should not come as a particular surprise either. Many of these have been forgettable and aren’t worth mentioning here. And the ones that have been memorable have been of varying quality, to put it lightly- sometimes we get The Shining or The Shawshank Redemption, and sometimes we get this summer’s The Dark Tower. It, while not at the level of some of the masterpieces based on his work, thankfully still falls closer to the former group than the latter. 
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It’s the summer of 1989, and school has just finished in the little town of Derry, Maine. For most kids of the town it is a time for baseball, goofing off, and going on fun adventures. But not for one boy –Bill Denbrough (Jaeden Lieberher). Six months before Bill’s younger brother Georgie (Jackson Robert Scott) went missing, and although his parents have accepted their loss, Bill hasn’t given up hope of finding him. In order to find him, Bill recruits a group of seven kids -all of whom are considered freaks, loners, and other social outcasts- who call themselves “the Losers”. But it’s not long before the kids realize that Derry is a town with a dark secret, one that could easily get them killed. 

Simply put, It is what would happen if Stand By Me (one of the greatest of King adaptions) was combined with a gruesome horror film. Alternatively, it’s like an R-rated version of Stranger Things (although it would be more proper to say Stranger Things is like a toned-down version of It). It is simultaneously an homage to classic coming of age films from the time period and a gruesome horror film. The film alternates with almost rhythmic regularity between classic kid movie scenes like swimming in the local quarry and getting picked on by school yard bullies and being stalked by terrible monsters. The drama element of the film works well partly because of the writing, with the classic story by King augmented by an excellent screenplay by a trio of writers including Cary Fukunaga, the mastermind behind the acclaimed first season of HBO’s True Detective. It also works because of the acting by all seven of the kid heroes. There’s a saying in Hollywood that one of the three things you should never work with is kids, but just like the classic this film emulates (Stand By Me) It proves that you can still make great movies starring kids. My only complaint is that the large number of kids in the group cuts down on screen time for any individual, and as such some of them are not as developed as they could have been. 

In regards to the horror aspect, this film is definitely not a jump scare type movie. In fact, most of the time this movie isn’t trying to directly surprise or frighten you, but rather create a sense of ominous dread, which it does phenomenally well with its pacing, music, sets, and creature effects. That doesn’t mean it’s not scary at all, of course- there are a number of scenes on the film which are genuinely frightening. But this is a horror movie which is more about the suspense of inevitable coming horror rather than the fear itself. And as I mentioned earlier, this film is gruesome. Don’t be fooled just because the stars are kids, this movie is not for those with weak constitutions. Although not up to the blood bath levels of a Saw or Texas Chainsaw Massacre movie, it is refreshing to see a film which is not shy about placing its young characters in mortal peril.

Add a heaping pile of 80s nostalgia on top of all this, and you have a recipe for box office gold. With the smash success of Netflix’s Stranger Things and the hype for Steven Spielberg’s upcoming adaption of Ready Player One, it seems like audiences are ripe for a film such as this. And as long as the quality of these films stays as high as It, I suppose I can’t complain. 

Grade: A-