Weekend Watch - All of Us Strangers
All of Us Strangers gives audiences a glimpse at the power of films to tell universal truths in compelling and emotionally engaging packages thanks to the excellent adaptation and direction of Andrew Haigh and the spot-on performances from all four of the film’s primary players.
Welcome back to the Weekend Watch where each week we take a look at a new piece of film or television media and give it a rating, review, and recommendation. This week’s topic, as voted by the blog’s Instagram followers, is the BAFTA-nominated film from Andrew Haigh that finally got a theatrical release at a theater within feasible driving distance of my house this weekend – All of Us Strangers. The film, adapted from Taichi Yamada’s novel Strangers, stars Andrew Scott, Paul Mescal, Jamie Bell, and Claire Foy in a story about a lonely screenwriter (Scott) whose work on a script based on his own adolescent tragedy leads him back to his childhood home where his deceased parents (Bell and Foy) are seemingly still alive, while he also starts to open himself up to a relationship with a fellow tenant (Mescal) at his supremely vacant apartment complex. The intimate and mind-bending film has already received six BAFTA nominations, a Golden Globe nomination, and a Critics Choice Award nomination. Let’s get into it.
Letter Grade: A; this film meets and exceeds expectations at almost every level.
Should you Watch This Film? Yes, assuming that it’s playing in your area and you’re allowed/able to go see R-rated films.
Why?
All of Us Strangers does, in fact, live up to the expectations that I have had about it. It delivers a beautifully acted, emotional, engaging, well-shot, mentally stimulating, and intimate look at grief, love, memory, family, and the universal human need for connection and intimacy. On the one hand, it offers a devastating portrayal of loneliness and its consequences when left unchecked, but on the other, it presents the audience with the beautiful nature of the alternative – opening yourself up to being vulnerable with others who might be able to love you (platonically, paternally, romantically, or any other way) and whom you might love in return. Andrew Haigh’s adaptation of Yamada’s novel takes the premise of what I understand to be a fantasy/romance/mystery/horror-lite story (based on the plot synopses I’ve read) whose focus is on letting go of past hurts and loss so that you can connect with your present and twists it into something that lacks a bit of that horror element but that leans hard into the other aspects to tell a story of opening up despite past hurts because of the need that everyone has for connection. Add to that adaptation the four excellent performances from Scott, Mescal, Bell, and Foy, and you’ve got yourself a modern masterpiece of film.
I think that there exists a problematic and simplistic reading of this film as a purely LGBTQ+ story about how, in fact, being non-cis non-het is inherently isolating to the point of total despair. Adam (Scott) consistently describes himself as lonely, even from childhood before the deaths of his parents, and attributes that loneliness to his sense of feeling different and his fear of being judged and/or ostracized by his peers and his parents for being gay. Likewise, Harry (Mescal) talks about his lack of contact with his family once he told them about his sexuality being an operating factor in his own loneliness and isolation. I think, though, that reading such an interpretation – “the gays are lonely and sad” – into this film is reductive and dismissive of what Haigh (and the cast) are actually trying to accomplish. Their isolation doesn’t stem from their sexuality; it stems from the sense of rejection that they chose to latch onto, that society continues to push everyone toward. This fear of potentially being hurt by others because someone did once hurt you or someone like you seems to permeate modern society and relationships, from children to work environments to families to romantic partnerships to everything in between, and it’s that type of isolation that Haigh seeks to highlight – isolation driven by fear, fearing that you’ll never be loved or be enough but also fearing the possibility of finding out whether or not you are right. It’s so much deeper than a story of gay men being isolated, and it being told from an LGBTQ+ perspective simply lends more truth and power to its universal nature – that I, a straight man, can resonate with and recognize the tension of needing connection but fearing the hurt that comes when you connect with imperfect people as an imperfect person. It’s powerful.
To top it all off, though, each of the four actors in this film (because it really is just a four-person film with two other credited actors who share one line between the two of them) delivers some of their best work, and when Oscar nominations leave all four of them out on Tuesday, it’s going to be a travesty. Claire Foy as Adam’s mother gets the opportunity to play this maternal figure to a forty-something man while being five to ten years younger than him due to the circumstances of her life and death. It’s a fascinating performance to watch because of how natural it feels, how, no matter the age of your child, you never stop being a mother – with all the highs and lows of motherhood included. Across from her, Jamie Bell plays Adam’s father in what is arguably the most emotionally taxing role of the film as he comes to terms with his treatment of his son while alive, forgive himself, and ask for a chance to be better in one of the most touching scenes from a film in the past year. Paul Mescal provides the perfect sounding board for Adam’s newfound desire for intimacy, offering a caring and interested romantic partner who hides his own pain just as deep down as Adam. It’s a strong supporting performance that comes to a climax in the film’s final sequences when his own pain and isolation finally make themselves known, and the audience gets to see the fullness of his own character development that’s been happening across the film. Finally, without Andrew Scott, this film simply doesn't work. His combination of longing, loneliness, and eventual acceptance come through in every facial expression, movement, and line delivery as he takes the audience along with him on this emotional ride of learning to connect with others and shed his fear of rejection. His is actually one of the best male performances of the year.
All of Us Strangers gives audiences a glimpse at the power of films to tell universal truths in compelling and emotionally engaging packages thanks to the excellent adaptation and direction of Andrew Haigh and the spot-on performances from all four of the film’s primary players. On the surface this film could be one of the bleakest and most depressing looks at the current state of humanity, but deep down it offers a beautiful alternative if we can only get over ourselves and let others into our hurts and fears and see their own as we want to be seen. If you’ve got this film showing at a theater near you, I can’t stress enough how much you should go check it out. If not, definitely find it when it hits streaming.
Weekend Watch - The Little Mermaid (2023)
Where The Little Mermaid improves on and lives up to the success of the original animated film, it really works; unfortunately, an extra-long runtime, up and down visual effects, and a truly upsetting new song hold it back from reaching true greatness.
Welcome back to the Weekend Watch where each week we take a look at a new piece of film or television media and give it a rating, review, and recommendation. This week’s topic, as voted by the blog’s Instagram followers is Disney’s latest live action remake – The Little Mermaid. This film adapts the 1989 animated film of the same name and stars Halle Bailey in the titular role, featuring the voice talents of Daveed Diggs, Awkwafina, and Jacob Tremblay as Ariel’s various animal friends, and featuring Jonah Hauer-King, Melissa McCarthy, and Javier Bardem in the supporting roles of Prince Eric, Ursula, and King Triton, respectively. Let’s get into it.
Letter Grade: C+; did we need a live-action remake? No. Does this do some creative things with the original and even improve on it in some places? Sure. Does this feature one of the worst songs in Disney history? Absolutely.
Should you Watch This Film? If you need a decent theatrical experience this weekend, particularly that’s kid-friendly, this is good enough to warrant a visit. It’s not necessarily a must-watch if you hadn’t planned on seeing it.
Why?
While most remakes don’t feel overly necessary, The Little Mermaid follows in the footsteps of its more positively received predecessors (The Jungle Book, Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast, and Aladdin) by staying true to the beloved story and characters of the original while adding just enough good new pieces to justify its existence. With almost an hour of extra runtime, The Little Mermaid fleshes out the romance at its heart, giving it legs to stand on (pun slightly intended) in a way that the original never really achieved. At the same time, its 2 hour and 15-minute runtime feels a bit long for its target audience, its CGI only looks good in certain scenes, and it does add one of the worst songs I’ve ever heard in a Disney film in its extended runtime.
One of the most legitimate critiques of the original The Little Mermaid is how shallow its romantic narrative is (see Childish Gambino’s “II. Worldstar” for reference). The live-action remake improves that aspect greatly, giving Ariel and Eric points of connection beyond mutual levels of hotness. They feel more connected to each other before the official washing up on shore occurs. Is the three days to fall in love trope still a little bit troubling? Yeah, but they again give the characters more interpersonal connections so that it doesn’t feel quite as shallow. These romantic additions are helped also by Halle Bailey’s expressive performance and strong vocals and a passable supporting performance from Jonah Hauer-King. They both look the part of the roles they play and sell the romance individually and together. Bailey, in particular, holds her own as the leading lady, keeping the part familiar while adding her own flairs here and there to really own the role.
Visually, the film fluctuates with some underwater scenes that are truly breathtaking but most of which just come across as disappointing after seeing Avatar: The Way of Water. The digitally choreographed “Under the Sea” scene is one of the best musical numbers in any of the Disney remakes and really was a joy to watch. Unfortunately, the scenes around it were full of underwhelming animation and strange character designs that only work one in three times. The designs for Scuttle and Flounder both invoke just a little bit too much of an uncanny valley for my taste, while the Sebastian design actually works for whatever reason – maybe it’s because crabs don’t have noticeably moving mouths and eyes for the most part, unlike fish and birds. I’d also be remiss if I did not mention the most jarring and cringeworthy song – an Awkwafina rap as Scuttle that feels so out of place in the film and isn’t even good enough to justify its weirdness (unlike Moana’s “Shiny”). Awkwafina’s voice-acting for Scuttle is really not that bad, but her song is up there with the ice cream song from Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness for most disconcerting movie moments of the 2020s.
Where The Little Mermaid improves on and lives up to the success of the original animated film, it really works; unfortunately, an extra-long runtime, up and down visual effects, and a truly upsetting new song hold it back from reaching true greatness. It’s good enough to be a passable kids film that adults will also enjoy, but it’s by no means the turnaround in live action remakes that will suddenly change your mind about them. It’s good enough to warrant seeing in theaters if you want, but it isn’t necessarily a must-watch for every moviegoer.
Weekend Watch - Book Club: The next Chapter
Book Club: The Next Chapter doesn’t offer anything new or inventive to the world of film and lacks a bit in the story department, but it makes up for its shortcomings by showcasing some familiar performers having a great time and showcasing some solid self-aware comedy.
Welcome back to the Weekend Watch where each week we take a look at a new piece of film or television media and give it a rating, review, and recommendation. This week’s topic, as voted by the blog’s Instagram followers, is Book Club: The Next Chapter, the sequel to 2018’s film, Book Club, about a group of women of a certain age who rediscover their sexuality by reading Fifty Shades of Grey in their book club. This film again stars Jane Fonda, Diane Keaton, Candice Bergen, and Mary Steenburgen as they take their club on a trip to Europe to celebrate Vivian’s (Fonda) engagement. The women are joined again by Andy Garcia, Don Johnson, and Craig T. Nelson with the additions of Giancarlo Giannini, Hugh Quarshie, and Vincent Riotta rounding out the supporting cast. Let’s get into it.
Letter Grade: D; this is a perfectly fine film for what it is – there are laughs and it’s true to the characters from its predecessor. That doesn’t mean it’s great or even good, but it’s not the worst 107 minutes ever put to screen.
Should you Watch This Film? If you’ve never seen the first Book Club, there’s absolutely no reason to watch this one, as it is a fairly direct continuation of the stories from the first with the same level of humor and acting. If you did see the first, there’s some decently satisfying conclusions to some of the open endings from the first that you might enjoy. And if you need something to see with your mom for Mother’s Day, go see Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret. instead.
Why?
Book Club: The Next Chapter carries on with everything that made the first film as fun as it is, but they really are films with a fairly specific target audience whose entertainment value is going to be limited for anyone outside of that target audience. The comedy of Book Club: The Next Chapter relies almost exclusively on elderly people being self-aware about their age and making jokes about it and about their love lives at that stage of life. It works well enough to get some laughs, and the performers are familiar enough that you might be able to get past the predictable plot and simple writing, but this film is not a must-see theatrical experience – it accomplishes what it sets out to do and that’s about it.
The biggest thing holding The Next Chapter back is its nature as a sequel – relying on plots and character beats from the first film to build its emotional and romantic connections. For a romantic comedy, most of its romance actually came in the first film, and this one just has some romantic tensions with very limited payoff for the stories that start in this film. Most of this film’s story involves the four women getting into trouble in various Italian cities, which is fun and funny enough to keep you watching, but it doesn’t provide much actual plot or character development worth mentioning – exemplified by the final act’s reversion to closing out the plots from the original film rather than engaging at all with any of the side plots from this film.
Book Club: The Next Chapter doesn’t offer anything new or inventive to the world of film and lacks a bit in the story department, but it makes up for its shortcomings by showcasing some familiar performers having a great time and showcasing some solid self-aware comedy. It’s by no means a must-see, but fans of Fonda, Keaton, Bergen, and Steenburgen and/or the first Book Club will find something endearing about this getaway comedy from the group. Most people are probably okay skipping this one or waiting until it hits streaming to watch it.
Weekend Watch - Magic Mike’s Last Dance
The great choreography and solid cinematography that we’ve come to expect from the Magic Mike franchise are there in his Last Dance, but it’s definitely missing its lovable side characters and any kind of solid story that could make it a better film.
Welcome back to the Weekend Watch where each week we take a look at a new piece of film or television media and give it a rating, review, and recommendation. This week’s topic, as voted by the blog’s Instagram followers, is Magic Mike’s Last Dance, the third film in Steven Soderbergh’s trilogy starring Channing Tatum as the male stripper Mike Lane. In this final(?) installment, Tatum is joined by Salma Hayek, Jemelia George, Ayub Khan-Din, and Juliette Motamed as he travels to London to direct a dance show for a wealthy new business partner after the pandemic put an end to his furniture business. Let’s get into it.
Letter Grade: D+; it’s still watchable, but it misses on so many points that it’s hard to see its merit.
Should you Watch This Film? If you are a fan of Channing Tatum and/or Salma Hayek, there’s enough from both of them in this to warrant giving it a watch, just maybe not on the big screen.
Why?
Magic Mike’s Last Dance goes away from Soderbergh’s formula for third films of getting the band back together for one final show and instead chooses to focus almost exclusively on the character of Mike and also Salma Hayek’s Max. Former audience favorites Joe Manganiello, Matt Bomer, Adam Rodriguez, and Kevin Nash only appear in a brief video chat cameo that serves as an explanation for why Mike has taken his job in London – to make the money he needs to pay his friends back. Otherwise, all the dancers and other important players are entirely new to the franchise, giving it that odd feeling of a television show that got cancelled on cable but renewed on streaming and lost some of its magic and actors in the transition.
If the missing favorites were the only issue, I think Last Dance would still be a solid film. Unfortunately, its story also leaves a bit to be desired, following through on a moniker given to Salma Hayek’s Max – the film truly is the “Queen of the First Act”. It starts strong with a fun meet-cute between Mike and Max, followed up with a steamy dance from the two performers and a hasty throwing of Mike into Max’s complicated life in London. The first act keeps you on your toes and hoping for something original and fulfilling that the rest of the film never fully delivers on. The second act is devoted to Mike’s and Max’s constant tweaking of the show they are working on and a fairly tension-less flirtation between the two as they struggle to keep their relationship strictly professional. The final act does bring the story home with plenty of dances in all styles, including an emotional dramatic wet dance from Tatum as a way to express his feelings for Max on stage, but the show ultimately feels a little underwhelming because of the lack of story and abundance of montages that it builds on. It entertains with the performers’ and filmmakers’ technical skills – excellently choreographed and filmed – but never really gives you that oomph that you want from what could have been an emotionally charged romantic third act with a better foundation.
The great choreography and solid cinematography that we’ve come to expect from the Magic Mike franchise are there in his Last Dance, but it’s definitely missing its lovable side characters and any kind of solid story that could make it a better film. Will it make an audience of middle-aged women happy? Probably so, if my theater from last night is any indication. Is it going to be on anyone’s lists of best films of 2023? I certainly doubt it. It’s currently available in theaters if you want to see Channing Tatum dancing on the big screen; otherwise, I’d suggest waiting until it hits streaming to catch this one.
Weekend Watch - Where the Crawdads Sing
Where the Crawdads Sing is a faithful, if lacking, adaptation of Delia Owens’s novel, featuring all the story points of the beloved book without the strong character and relationship development that tied it all together.
Welcome back to the new and improved Weekend Watch, where each week, you vote on the blog’s Instagram for what we should watch next weekend, and then I watch it and give a little review and recommendation about it. This week’s winner was the new theatrical release, Where the Crawdads Sing, based on the best-selling novel by Delia Owens. It features Daisy Edgar-Jones as the protagonist Kya Clark, Taylor John Smith and Harris Dickinson as her two love interests (Tate and Chase), and David Strathairn as her elderly lawyer, Tom Milton.
Letter Grade: C-, it definitely doesn’t wow, but it tells an interesting enough story
Should you Watch This Film? Fans of the book should enjoy this one well enough, but visually, it doesn’t bring enough to the table to necessitate a theatrical viewing.
Why?
Where the Crawdads Sing suffers from similar issues to many adaptations of detailed books into films. It tells the story well, but the story was only part of what made the book so well-liked. The character development is cast to the wayside in favor of hitting story points, but because of runtime requirements, the story points often feel disjointed from one another, making it a difficult film to categorize. This film has notes of a romantic drama, a woman-empowerment film, and a courtroom drama, but not quite enough of any individually to get it into those categories. It has a love triangle (of sorts) between three attractive actors, in which one guy is clearly better for the girl than the other is, but she has to discover that for herself. The only problem is that for extended stretches of the film, the romance plot simply disappears, taking you out of that genre’s mindset. The film features a strong female protagonist doing great things all on her own like fending for herself after being abandoned by her family, writing a plethora of books about local wildlife that end up published by academic publishers, and fighting off an attempted rapist all on her own. At the same time, she only learns of the publishers from one of the men in her life and her court case rests on the skill of her male lawyer, as she refuses to take the stand in her own defense. These are two clear moments of potential female empowerment that lose some of their impact because of the men involved, which is true to the book, but the book has plenty of other aspects that enforce the female empowerment piece, and maybe the story’s ending redeems those points to a lesser extent as well. Finally, as a courtroom drama, we get very little, which was also the case in the book, as the trial featured only at the story’s conclusion. In the film adaptation, the court case is sprinkled in throughout the film between flashbacks to other parts of the story. For the most part, the courtroom and related scenes serve mainly as a vehicle for David Strathairn to do some acting and very little else. Not much is revealed through those scenes, and they feel more like an afterthought to everything else going on in the film because of Kya’s reluctance to speak. Despite these tonal disparities, the story is compelling, and the acting is relatively solid (minus some occasional accent inconsistencies). I’d say this is certainly a film worth watching at some point, especially if you’ve read the book or you are at all curious about the book but haven’t had time to sit down and read it yet. Where the Crawdads Sing is a faithful, if lacking, adaptation of Delia Owens’s novel, featuring all the story points of the beloved book without the strong character and relationship development that tied it all together. It feels like something that could have been even better, had it gone the route of miniseries like so many other stories have in recent years.