Molly's Game

Texas Hold ‘em has become a massively successful sport that has constantly battled the impression that it is a game of chance, not that of skill. “Molly’s Game” delves into high-stakes poker in the way that “The Big Short” examined subprime loans and credit default swaps. Only it’s quicker, sexier, and a bit easier to understand.

Based on the autobiography of the same name, Molly Bloom was a competitive skier from Colorado, with an Olympic medal in her sights before a tragic fall forced her to re-evaluate her future. After moving to Los Angeles as a gap-year before law school, she used her feminine wiles to find work as a cocktail server, which led to introductions to some of the Hollywood elite; actors, athletes, businessmen, even royalty. Using her newfound connections, she began running an elite weekly poker game (she was dubbed the “princess of poker” by some tabloids) which led to tales of mounds of cash, drugs, FBI investigations, Russian Mob exchanges, and enough stories to fill a successful autobiography as well as a feature-length film. What’s left out however, are the specific names of the high-life players, and that integrity in spite of external pressure seems to be the cornerstone of her character.

Aaron Sorkin (“West Wing,” “Moneyball,” “The Social Network”) is a silver-tongued master of sharp dialogue. With a script that is equal parts “Moneyball” and “The Wolf of Wall Street,” we get a peek behind the curtain of how the one percent lives, and the criminal line that is so blurred by the fog of money, fame, sex, and drugs. Sorkin does a truly remarkable job in his directorial debut, and his pen is clearly all over the dialogue, but the story stands on its own just as well.

Jessica Chastain is an absolute knock-out as Molly. There is a cunning wolf-in-sheep’s clothing aspect to her character; she found what she called a “target-rich environment,” in Los Angeles, learned the ropes of the game, but more importantly, developed ways to manipulate dozens of men and leave everyone satisfied at the end of the night. One of the intriguing aspects of the story is the pervading question of who might these celebrities actually be? There are stories that Player X, portrayed by Michael Cera in the film, was actually Tobey Maguire. Ben Affleck, Leo DiCaprio, Alex Rodriguez, the Olson twins, Rick Salomon, and several billionaire businessmen are alleged to have been participants in the book, but their identities are obscured in anonymity for a lack of prosecutable evidence. While watching the film though, you can’t help wonder what the composition of those games might have actually been, and what kinds of conversations and dollar amounts must have been floating around.

Kevin Costner gives what might be his best performance in decades as Molly’s father, Larry. He’s a successful psychologist who has used his occupation to push his daughter and two sons to succeed in both academics and athletics. The volatile relationship on the screen between Molly and Larry is captivating, particularly in a pivotal scene that has them sharing a sharply written heart-to-heart talk.

Idris Elba is the anchor piece of the ensemble. His character is the fictitious defense attorney, Charlie Jaffey. Sorkin uses the character to explain elements of the story to viewers that might otherwise not be so clearly understood. Elba also very successfully serves as a vehicle to uncover the layers of Bloom’s motivation, moral compass, and character. It’s a fantastic role by a terrific actor, and is the perfect fictional addition to the otherwise true story.

“Molly’s Game” received a pair of Golden Globe nominations, for Chastain’s acting and Sorkin’s writing. I would expect the Academy to reward these two with nominations next month as well. The film is quite long at two hours and twenty minutes, but Sorkin is able to keep the audience engaged from start to finish. This is a great film without a very clear message. Molly is an inspiring character, but you never quite know whether to root for her or not. Either way, it’s a fun film worth the price of admission. 8/10.

The Shape of Water

One of the more unique stories to come out of Hollywood this year is a quirky and possibly classic love story of sorts where a misunderstood creature and a lonely, compassionate woman find each other in the most unlikely of circumstances. “The Shape of Water” is Guillermo Del Toro’s latest in an impressive resume of fantastical fairy tales with an emphasis on beautiful imagery and sharp attention to detail. As critically acclaimed as it has become in limited release, and as excited as I was to view it, I wasn’t particularly blown away by either the characters or the story.

Set in 1960’s Baltimore, lonely, mute Elisa (Sally Hawkins) lives a simple life. Bound to her daily routine, and spending what little spare money she has on shoes, she lives modestly and works in a top secret government facility mopping floors and cleaning bathrooms with her best friend, Zelda (Octavia Spencer). Her life is disrupted when the enigmatic and misunderstood Amphibian Man (Doug Jones) is brought in to be studied by Dr. Hoffstetler (Michael Stuhlbarg) in an attempt to gain an advantage over the Russians in the space race. Security specialist Strickland (Michael Shannon) accompanies the creature as the antagonistic alpha-male, but all the while, Elisa develops an odd attraction to Amphibian Man that develops like a fish out of water love story.

Sally Hawkins is magnificent portraying Elisa. She relies on sign language and conveys the most nuanced emotions through her eyes in a spectrum ranging from despair to compassion, and elation. Although the character lacks substance, there is an empathetic quality that she demands, and her spirit is pure and kind, which makes her as superficially likable as she is peculiar. Her neighbor in their quaint apartments over the movie theatre is Giles, played by the ever-entertaining Richard Jenkins. His eccentric gay artist character reluctantly joins her in her adventure, but exudes the kindness of heart that is the centerpiece of the love story (as does Spencer’s Zelda). It is the goodness of the three main characters that drives the shallow and light-hearted story, but it is the darkness of the anti-hero that provides the real entertainment.

Michael Shannon is truly one of my favorite actors, and he portrays anger and aggression perhaps better than just about anyone else in the industry. His ability to go from zero to fuming in an instant is unnerving, and this is certainly one of his better performances in recent memory (see him in “Revolutionary Road” and “Take Shelter” if you haven’t already). His character has more depth than any of the others, and I just wish Del Toro had invested a bit more time in his development and evolution. There was a performance ripe for the portrayal, but he wasn’t given quite the chance to unleash it. As great as it is, I wanted more.

Doug Jones is a close second to motion capture creature player Andy Serkis in terms of pure physical talent. Jones is outstanding playing creatures of all sorts in Del Toro’s films, but his movements as the 21st century Creature from the Black Lagoon are especially remarkable, and kudos must go to the makeup artists and special effects designers as well. His Amphibian Man is the freak show or oddity surrounded by human drones going about their meaningless lives, and that idea is certainly highlighted, though to what end I’m not entirely sure.

“The Shape of Water” excels in the artistic vision where it lacks other substance. Every detail is thoughtfully colored to enhance or subdue the mood on the screen, with a soft combination of greens and blues when Elisa is on the screen, starkly contrasted with yellows to signify Shannon’s Strickland. Reds enter at times to show both love and death, and although I didn’t completely follow Del Toro’s methodology for color coordinating, I found it visually pleasing, and delightful. I’m sure there’s a deeper meaning hidden somewhere in his mind, but that’s another editorial. Suffice to say, the film is beautiful and unique, but hollow beyond the surface glitz.

I would expect several awards nominations, but this film fails to make my top ten list, which is a disappointment. Is it a visual feast? Absolutely. Are the actors compelling? The acting, yes; the characters, no. Is it an entertaining film? I guess so, but the surrealism and quirky artistic moves prevent it from being a great film. 6/10.

Star Wars: The Last Jedi

Most films don’t receive the same level of anticipation that the “Star Wars” universe seems to generate. Two years removed from “The Force Awakens,” we are finally going to hear Luke Skywalker speak for the first time since 1983’s “Return of the Jedi.” That’s thirty-four years of waiting, which is more than a lifetime for most of today’s fans.

Who is the last Jedi? It’s complicated, just like the film in its entirety compared with the others in the canon. It’s far more mystical and magical than its predecessors, and full of symbolism that requires reflection, but that’s the evolution of the series over decades I suppose. The imagery is beautiful, and the effects are state of the art.

Episode Eight has a certain expectation of grandeur to it. The second installment in a trilogy is notoriously either fantastic or terrible, but the common theme is that the characters need to descend into the depths of darkness before resurfacing changed and ready for the finale. There is often a disappointing lack of resolution, but that buildup is part of the formula of typical trilogy success. The tone of the film broods as expected, but it’s juxtaposed with more naturally humorous dialogue than I recall from any of the others in the series. Not once did anyone claim “I’ve got a bad feeling about this” which left me feeling nostalgic whimsy and melancholy.

“The Last Jedi” follows the same basic trajectory as all of the others, whipping back and forth among three stories; one plot-line follows the individual journey by Rey (Daisy Ridley) into the meaning of the Jedi, one is a space battle between the Empire and the Rebellion with the ensemble cast, led by Poe Dameron (Oscar Isaac), and one is a fantastic and daring adventure where our rogue, Finn (John Boyega), gets himself into trouble on some wildly rowdy venue. Sound a little bit like Luke, Leia, and Han? It should, because the backbone of the franchise has never really shifted. I suppose the respect for the master, George Lucas, keeps the new talent from straying too far from the heart of the film catalog.

As darkness envelops the light, and all hope diminishes, we find ourselves immersed and actually caring for 150 minutes about creatures (diamond foxes, fuzzy penguins who scream, and giant manatees with green milk), light sabre battles, and a generally welcome escape from reality (and gravity). These types of films remind us why we go to the movies in the first place.

Rian Johnson (“Brick,” “Looper”) may have been a dubious and obscure choice to tackle such a high profile project, but his chops prove otherwise. He is a midget-car champion finally given the keys to a stock car. He handles every twist and turn like a pro, which is even more impressive from a writing perspective than as a director. Some may criticize the film for being a bit too far out and esoteric, but I argue it might have been the shot in the arm to take the franchise to the next generation. Johnson may have passed the baton for Episode IX back to JJ Abrams (with Chris Terrio and Colin Trevorrow, and Derek Connolly helping with writing), but his influence will last just like Irvin Kershner left his stamp with “Empire Strikes Back” back in 1980. Besides, Rian Johnson is working on a new “Star Wars” trilogy, so the end is nowhere in sight, which is good or annoying depending on where you fall on the fan spectrum.

Lucasfilms must be kicking themselves for selling the brand to Disney back in 2012 for a meager $4 billion, but the future is blinding for Disney Films, especially after the pending purchase of Fox films recently announced. That brings a film studio lineup of Pixar, Lucasfilms, Marvel, and Fox all under one roof. Expect big things over the next decade from Mickey and Minnie, I know I am.

My fan theory that has been percolating for the past two years was debunked, to my dismay. Maybe my expectations had outgrown any possible outcome, and I suppose it’s time I come clean and admit for the first time publicly that I’m a Star Wars super fan. “The Last Jedi” is as awesome as it could possibly be, and maintains the vibe created by “The Force Awakens” very nicely. I for one can’t wait for Episode IX in 2019. Until then, we have next year’s “Solo: A Star Wars Story” to look forward to. 8/10.

The Disaster Artist

On the surface, this seems like a terrible idea. James Franco directing and starring in what is essentially an homage to what is arguably the worst film ever made. Let that sink in for a minute.

“The Disaster Artist” is part sequel, part remake, and part behind-the-scenes back story to the 2003 cult classic “The Room.” Oddly endearing, and absolutely nonsensical if you haven’t seen the latter, it is difficult to determine until the very ending if we are laughing with, or at the original. “The Room” was written, directed, produced, and starring Tommy Wiseau. He’s a man with mysterious origins (he claims New Orleans, but Transylvania would be a better guess) and financial resources (the film cost $6 million, which he paid for single-handedly), who created a disjointed farce of a film that has gone on to turn a profit through word-of-mouth, self-promoted DVD sales, and midnight showings, a la “Rocky Horror Picture Show.”

To attempt to describe the plot or characters of “The Room” would be more confusing than watching it, and far less entertaining, so let me just break it down like this; Tommy plays Johnny, a man who can’t throw a football, spews dialogue like Rocky after a fight, and has a love scene which shamelessly highlights the wrong gender’s umm… assets. The plot? There isn’t really one.

James Franco offers a wildly accurate glimpse inside the enigmatic Tommy Wiseau, whose persona is straight out of fiction. An unlikely project, Franco was clearly drawn to the unique, non-conformist attitude that Wiseau so deftly displays. His depiction of the man is hilarious and tragic. There is emotion deeply rooted in him, and as the film goes on and you get to know his passions, you come to respect his innocence; he’s really just looking for someone to love him.

Dave Franco plays Tommy Wiseau’s counterpart, aspiring actor Greg Sestero (author of the book that inspired this film) in a heartfelt, but somewhat shallow performance. The head-scratching relationship between Greg and Tommy sparks the birth of “The Room” in the first place and is made all the more complex seeing real-life brothers on screen together playing two vastly different characters. It’s all very metacognitive. Thankfully the source material is vapid and easy to follow, and if you just enjoy it for what it is, you are truly in for a very entertaining experience.

Written by Scott Neustadter and Michael Weber (a variety of teen dramas), there is a nice blend of character development as well as scene re-creations. An all-star cast assembles to take on even minor roles, notably Zac Efron, Seth Rogen, and Josh Hutcherson. The dialogue is all pointed toward the ostentatious nature of Tommy Wiseau, and it’s as if he’s from another planet and everyone around him is simply marveling at his absurdity.

The film is essentially a sequel of redemption for Wiseau. A laughing stock in Hollywood for years, this film gives him exactly what he was seeking in the first place; fame and credibility. It may not be of the precise nature he envisioned, but as an entertainer, I think there is a respectful nod given by “The Disaster Artist” validating his contributions and establishing a legacy, albeit a mockery, in the industry.

Franco is free to explore his most outrageous self in this performance, and it is truly a pleasure every step of the way. What may seem overacting is actually spot on, and he may very well see his name come up on awards nominations short lists. The film isn’t spectacular, but it is a riot. Just don’t see it without viewing “The Room” first, otherwise it will baffle you. 8/10.

Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri

Dark comedies tend to be a challenging genre to master. Every piece has to have a delicate balance; writing has to be sharp and funny, the story has to be swift-moving and clever, and the actors need to harness the director’s vision and become the characters intended. “Three Billboards” successfully manages to deliver on the promise of its darkness and humor, and after two hours, there is a guilty pleasure sickness in the pit of your stomach, a satisfying resolution to a horrendous series of events, brilliantly conveyed by a stellar group of veteran actors.

The most quirky-titled film of the year takes the screen by storm. It starts slowly and calmly with Mildred (Frances McDormand) contemplating an idea that will forever change the sleepy town of Ebbing, Missouri. She channels her anger, frustration, and sorrow of losing her daughter to a violent and unsolved murder into renting three billboards, where she sends a message to the chief of police that fires up the department and the citizens of the small community. Mildred stands firm, displaying a nothing-to-lose bereaving mother, the vilified, underdog protagonist that evokes conflicted allegiances.

Martin McDonagh (“In Bruges,” “Seven Psychopaths”) could have written a story about just about anything and achieved the same effect. Three billboards being such an innocuous set of objects, it’s the cast and the morbid humor that strikes the audience like a frying pan to the face. His ability to move a narrative in entertaining, original, and unexpected ways harkens some of the Coen Brothers’ best work (“Fargo”). He is certainly a writer/director to keep a keen eye on, with this film likely earning him more Oscar nominations.

Frances McDormand is spectacular. A surefire Best Actress nominee, she emerges as a front-runner for now, but she has unusually stiff competition this year with highly anticipated performances by Jessica Chastain, Sally Hawkins, Saoirse Ronan, Margot Robbie, and the perennial stalwart Meryl Streep.

Woody Harrellson and Sam Rockwell are truly the soul of the film as much as McDormand is the heart. They carry the ironically loveable antagonist roles as the police chief Willoughby and his bumbling Barney Fife deputy, Dixon. Their relationship is a thing of cinematic beauty and they each support McDormand’s character in near-perfect fashion. Willoughby is a good man, and he’s a good police chief, but he is bound by the same constraints of law that infuriate Mildred. Dixon on the other hand, is irreverent, inappropriate, unprofessional, and highly entertaining. I’ve been a fan of Sam Rockwell for decades, and he will finally get his Oscar nomination after nearly one hundred film roles.

Lucas Hedges (Mildred’s son, Robbie) is one of my favorite young actors in the game today. After a star-making turn in last year’s “Manchester by the Sea” and a strong supporting role in this year’s other independent film darling, “Lady Bird,” I foresee great things in his future.

“Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri” isn’t a film that will appeal to all. You have to have a very dark sense of humor to truly appreciate the film’s message, which may be interpreted in different ways depending on your level of optimism. But isn’t that the impact of a truly great cinematic experience? The layers of humanity and emotion are much deeper than the film appears to contain on the surface. You’ll become conflicted, because every character demands your empathy and respect, no matter how vile. This is one of the best films of the year, unlikely to be bumped from my 2017 top five. 9/10.