Month: October 2020

When incredibly popular Pope John Paul II died in April 2005, two men with opposing worldviews were both in consideration for the position of Pope. One, a traditionalist from Europe, the other, a man of the people from South America. One man campaigned for position and tradition while the other held conversations about the faith and the people the church was charged to care for. One became Pope and the other returned to his community.

Just 8 years later Pope Benedict XVI did something no other pope in modern times had done; he resigned his position. The Two Popes tells the story of Pope Benedict’s decision to resign and the unlikely friendship he developed with his once rival, Cardinal Bergoglio of Argentina.

Joseph Ratzinger (Anthony Hopkins) and Jorge Bergoglio (Jonathan Pryce) had very different paths to the Vatican, as portrayed throughout the film through flashbacks and character exposition. Ratzinger was an academic and a close advisor to Pope John Paul II. He had lived at the Vatican for more than 20 years before the 2005 conclave. By contrast, Bergoglio was an Argentinian cardinal who dedicated his life to living with and serving the poorest in his community after missteps during Argentina’s political troubles of the 1980s.

When Bergoglio eventually decided to retire as Archbishop he traveled to Rome to hand deliver his resignation to Pope Benedict. Instead of accepting his resignation, Pope Benedict engaged Bergoglio in a series of conversations where a deeper understanding of each other grew. They talk of leadership, faith, personal history, church politics and the reality of God. A gentle respect and trust developed between the two men and Pope Benedict eventually confided his own plans of retirement and his hopes for Bergoglio to become the next pope.

Under director, Fernando Meirelles’ watchful eye, Hopkins and Pryce each give a brilliant performance in this film adaptation of Anthony McCarten’s play The Pope. How they volley back and forth in conversation, as much with their words as with their body language is masterful. They each bring humanity to their own characters and convey a deep respect for the other through subtle gestures and meaningful pauses. Hopkins brings a level of openness and vulnerability that was rarely seen in the public life of Pope Benedict while Pryce reflects the humility and gentleness that Pope Francis is known for.

The Two Popes won several awards and has been popular with both critics and fans with reason. Its subtle, beautiful storytelling is played out on screen by two masters of their craft. Its content is interesting and its method of storytelling is captivating. The cinematography is the third character in this drama and adds structure and depth to the struggle of faith and humanity that both Ratzinger and Bergoglio wrestle with.

The Two Popes is filmmaking at its finest.

6 Underground is exactly the movie you’d expect from a collaboration between a director know for quick cuts and huge explosions and an actor who has cornered the market on dark sarcasm cut with a healthy dose of boyish charm – only better, bigger and more. Ryan Reynolds and Michael Bay team up in this Netflix Original that is every bit as entertaining as any big-screen action film that’s been produced in recent years.

The pairing of Bay and Reynolds seems like such a natural fit that I was sure they’d worked together before – turns out, this is their first pairing. But I am sure it won’t be their last because this flicks checks every one of the boxes Michael Bay fans have come to expect while still leaving lots of room for Ryan Reynolds to provide his signature running commentary laced with quick wit and morbid humour. The writing team of Paul Wernick and Rhett Reese (Deadpool) are the third element to this magical 6 Underground equation. And it all comes together beautifully for 2 hours and 8 minutes of action genre decadence.

Reynolds (One) plays a tech billionaire who fakes his own death and subsequently gathers a small group of mercenaries to track and eliminate international thugs. No names, no past, no connections are the governing rules of the crew that is rounded out by Melanie Laurent (Two), Adria Arjona (Five) Manuel Garcia-Rulfo (Three), Dave Franco (Six) and Ben Hardy (Four). Each member of the team brings their own expertise to the table while carrying their own ghosts into the operation.

During the opening sequence there is enough destruction and mayhem to fill three regular action films but this being a Michael Bay production the body count is right on track. A car chase through Florence, Italy is the backdrop for fast-paced exposition and graphic series of near-misses and no-misses that set the tone for the rest of the movie. This sequence keeps us on the edge of our seats as it proves that no one is safe, not even a core member of Reynolds’ crew.

Enter Seven (Corey Hawkins). Hawkins comes in as a replacement crew member but soon centers as One’s conscious and constant challenger as the mission moves forward. While this supporting cast is given more to work with than we are used to seeing in Bay’s films it would have been nice to see a few less explosions and a little more screen time dedicated to filling out the story and motivation of the team. Hopefully we’ll see this happen in a sequel.

While there has been no official word on a sequel yet, the exposition at the beginning of 6 Underground mentions several missions so we’ll see. Reynolds, when questioned about the possibility of a sequel, said he’d be all in for a follow-up flick. Furthermore, it is not unusual in the Michael Bay universe to see multiple sequels so let’s cross our fingers that 6 Underground is just the beginning for this writing-directing-acting team.

I’m a fan of Lily James, so the second I saw her in the trailer for the new adaptation of Rebecca,  I added the film to my watchlist — even though I’d never so much as heard of the Daphne Du Maurier novel. In the interest of being informed and aware (mostly of whether or not I should be bracing for jump scares), I read the book. I learned later that I could have watched the 1940 Hitchcock adaptation, but the reflections I have to offer are inspired by the novel rather than the black-and-white film.

Here are the basics for anyone who doesn’t know the story: An unnamed young lady, played by Lily James, is on vacation in Monte Carlo with her employer and sort-of guardian, Mrs. Van Hopper. They encounter Maximilian de Winter (Armie Hammer), a wealthy widower and owner of Manderley, a sprawling English estate. Mrs. Van Hopper falls ill, giving our protagonist lots of time to spend with – you guessed it – Mr. de Winter. They marry after a very brief courtship, and Mr. de Winter whisks his young bride off to Manderley. The new Mrs. de Winter finds it difficult to settle into her new role as mistress of the house. Her struggle to fit into life at Manderley is exacerbated by Maxim’s refusal to tell her anything about his first wife, the titular Rebecca. The hostility of Mrs. Danvers, the housekeeper (brilliantly portrayed by Kristin Scott Thomas), doesn’t help either. Mrs. Danvers seems to resent the second Mrs. de Winter for taking Rebecca’s place, and what is with that creepy boathouse?

That’s about all I can tell you without spoilers.

Rebecca is not a scary movie. Disturbing, maybe. Unsettling. But not scary. The book was gripping, and the trailer bordered so strongly on horror that I thought, “ooh, here comes a thriller.” Alas, it was not. As a matter of fact, this Rebecca might be called an anti-thriller. A few scenes led me to believe that some adrenaline rushes might be forthcoming, but I was more or less disappointed (and a bit relieved, I’ll admit) every time. If you are looking for a Halloween movie that will give you chills, this is not it.

And then there’s handling of the story itself. Just as I was starting to feel really impressed by the film’s adherence to the book, there were some major and unwise changes to the plot, and I became less impressed with Ben Wheaton’s adaptation. 

The scenery, cinematography, and costume design don’t quite make up for the ways this film disappoints, but they’re stunning enough to go a long way. The winding roads and bright colours are breathtakingly lovely. As a passionate lover of pretty things, they did a lot to nurture my goodwill.

In summary, this Rebecca probably isn’t worth your time if you’re looking for a scary movie. Or a thrilling one. Or, you know, one that’s engaging enough to keep you from nodding off during the talking bits. On the other hand, it’s not bad enough for me to thoroughly condemn. If you want to watch something that’s incredibly (except for the squeal-worthy dresses and the gorgeous Monacan countryside), give it a whirl and see what you think.

Unsettling. Tragic. Chilling. That’s the story that is told in American Murder: The Family Next Door and it’s entirely captivating.

True crime documentaries are my jam. I usually enjoy seeing how a crime is investigated and how a court case is built. I am fascinated by circumstance and motive and the science behind murder. But for the first time in a long time, watching this story unfold made me deeply uncomfortable. And yet, I could not stop watching.

The story itself isn’t unique. Sadly, more than half of all murdered women die at the hands of their intimate partner. What makes this documentary so compelling is the layering of public social media posts, private text messages from the victim and video footage of police interrogations of witnesses and the suspect. Tension and dread build exponentially as the realisation of the truth of this horrendous crime is revealed.

Anyone who would have met Chris and Shanann Watts would have thought they were a typical American suburban couple. Two young daughters, a son on the way. Nice house, two cars. Social media feeds filled with smiles and loving moments. They were picture perfect – and then Shanann and her two daughters were reported as missing by a family friend.

Through a series of text messages, social media posts, police video footage and news reports American Murder: The Family Next Door reconstructs the story that gripped headlines across the country in August 2018. What began as a missing persons case became a homicide investigation within days and what followed was the unravelling of a chaotic alibi and a poor cover-up job of a relationship in crisis.

The difference maker for this story is how Shanann Watts’ frequent social media posts not only documented her family but also preserved an honest portrait of her own humanity. Authentic moments of joy, motherhood and life were recorded in real time. Throughout this documentary, we come to know and identify with Shanann. We are brought into her family, her circle of friends. We get to know her intimately. And then she’s gone.

As the investigation uncovered, the truth behind all of those happy family posts was a wife in emotional distress as she watched her 8-year relationship with her husband and father of her children slip away. The truth was Chris had begun an affair with a coworker and had notions of leaving his family to establish a new life with this woman. In the end, he resorted to violence and unthinkable murder to free himself from the life he had built and then lied poorly in an attempt to cover up his crime.

American Murder: The Family Next Door follows the story of the murder of Shanann and her two young daughters, Bella and Celeste, from the first phone call to police through the investigation, trial and sentencing of the murder, the person Shanann loved and trusted, her husband, Chris Watts.

This is the story you’ll be texting your friends about, the one you’ll be talking about at work. This is the story you’ll be thinking about, long after the credits roll.

This documentary will be your new Netflix obsession.

Before I begin, and in the interest of full disclosure, I am a huge Aaron Sorkin fan. He’s a writer’s writer and his words flow like music. He is a gifted storyteller who creates the most beautiful monologues and exposition and very few screenwriters can do what he does when it comes to crafting character depth and motivation. And with Sorkin behind the pen and behind the camera both, this flick literally has his fingerprints all over it.

The Trial of the Chicago 7  is the dramatic retelling of the true events that took place surrounding the Democratic National Convention in 1968. In protest of the Vietnam War, several civil rights and anti-war organisations rallied together and converged on Chicago to make their voices heard. What began as a peaceful protest quickly turned into a violent confrontation with police. This film pieces together the escalating events that led to eight civil rights leaders being arrested and tried in violation of the Rap Brown law that made crossing state lines to incite violence a federal crime.

With his signature blend of humour, political savvy and compelling character development, Sorkin uses this historic federal case and the circumstances leading up to the trial, as a call to reflect on our current political climate without explicitly mentioning our present day politics, at all. He does so with expertly crafted monologues and protest scenes that echo images we have seen flood our news feeds in recent months and years. Issues of racism, media manipulation and law-enforcement bias are examined against the backdrop of rampant corruption and government over-reach that was as prevalent during the civil rights era of the 1960s as it is today.

One of the most interesting tools of storytelling that Sorkin commonly uses is telling the same story through the diverse points of view of his ensemble cast and in this film he does this beautifully, once again. This method is employed not only through the script as it was written but through the contrast in camera angles and quick-cut editing between characters during the retelling of some of the most dramatic scenes.

Sasha Baron Cohen and Eddie Redmayne play off each other brilliantly as co-defendants Abbie Hoffman and Tom Hayden who frequently butt heads on how to move forward through the trial. Hoffman, part of a comedy duo that included Jerry Rubin (Jeremy Strong), through a series of flashbacks and flash-forwards, becomes a key narrator of unfolding events throughout the trial. Joseph Gordon-Levitt gives a thoughtful yet understated portrayal of federal prosecutor, Richard Schultz opposite Frank Langella’s deliberately erratic and contradictory Judge Julius Hoffman. Each scene brings another dynamic combination of actors interacting with wit and purpose.

The original case featured in The Trial of the Chicago 7 is dramatic and fascinating in it’s own right and Aaron Sorkin’s style of storytelling only enhances the tale. His brand of parable-like teaching through film was made for these true-story accounts of government, politics and justice. Sorkin weaves a thoughtful narrative throughout the film without crossing the line into melodrama or self-righteousness. He just steadily and intentionally spins his tale into an intriguing and thought-provoking interpretation of the trial and political climate of the late 60s. It’s been five decades since this trial occurred but the themes found in this flick are as relevant today as they were in 1968.

After you see a great movie in the cinema, then comes ‘the wait’. The never-ending stretch before you can re-watch it again and again to your heart’s content on Netflix.

The better the movie, the longer this wait feels, but how long is it actually? We turned to the data to find out.

Let’s start by answering this question narrowly, and then moving out to look around the world and over time.

In the US, there were 174 films which were released in cinemas during 2016 and which ended up on Netflix. The average delay across those titles was 474 days – i.e. just over a year and three months.

If we widen the focus to cover films in sixteen other major countries, we now include 258 films which were in cinemas during 2016 and then on Netflix in the same country. None had a shorter delay than the US. Some were very similar (Canada had a delay of 479 days and Russia 487), while others had a much longer delay (924 in South Korea and a whopping 1,170 in France).

How has this changed over time?

Let’s widen the study further, to cover four years worth of releases. As the chart below shows, the delay in the US has fallen slightly, with the delay dropping by 104 days between 2013 and 2016.

This decline is found in every country I studied, albeit to varying degrees.

A wider trend

This trend mirrors two patterns we see elsewhere in the film business over the past decade.

The first is the delay between theatrical and Home Entertainment releases (i.e. DVD and iTunes). The chart below shows the situation in the US, with a steep decline between these two “windows of release”.

The studios are pushing for shorter windows but are being fought by cinema operators who fear the loss of exclusivity will damage ticket sales. The COVID-19 pandemic allowed the studios to make further headway. While the cinemas were distracted and powerless, Star Wars 9, Frozen 2, and The Invisible Man were among the titles released on home platforms faster than expected.

The other trend which today’s data echos is the increased synchronisation among international theatrical release dates. In the 1990s, it would not be uncommon for a film to be released in intentional cinemas over a year after it’s initial run in US cinemas. However, digital distribution, online privacy and social media marketing have all pushed studios to reduce this delay, moving closer to having a global release date.

The business models of studio and cinemas were formed in the practices and economics of the twentieth century, whereas Netflix is very much a modern Silicon Valley operation. This means they think globally and are pushing for greater international synchronisation of content.

Notes

Today’s research is looking at 1,257 live-action feature films which were released in cinemas between 1st January 2013 and 31st December 2016 and which ended up on Netflix in at least one country. Theatrical release dates were from IMDb and Netflix release dates from What’s New On Netflix.