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SPIDER-MAN: ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE
*** Early in this kaleidoscopic sequel to the Oscar-winning Into the Spider-Verse, two teen superheroes, Miles Morales (Shameik Moore) and Gwen Stacy (Hailee Steinfeld), enjoy a reunion that sends both your heart and your eyes topsy-turvy. Using their spider-powers to stick to a skyscraper, they dangle upside down so gracefully that the only sign of gravity’s pull is the movement of Gwen’s ponytail. Such beauty is de rigueur for the Spider-Verse franchise, which has brought rare fluidity and texture to computer animation. Gone is the plasticine sheen popularized by Pixar and Shrek; here, images flow and bleed like watercolors (or flash violently like strobe lights). It’s the story that could use more dimension, though not when the vampiric Spider-Man 2099/Miguel O’Hara (Oscar Isaac) is onscreen. A defender of countless arachnid-themed alternate realities, Miguel is less a Spider-Man than an aggrieved Spider-Man fan. Raving about the sanctity of “the canon,” he insists that to be a superhero is to endure tragedy—a belief that Miles, who has two loving parents to protect, cannot accept. Across the Spider-Verse plays like the first salvo of a philosophical attack on trauma as motivation in superhero fiction, but it ends with an irritating cliffhanger before it can finish its thoughts. Until the release of the upcoming Beyond the Spider-Verse, there’s no telling whether this chapter of Miles’ story is playing at profundity or actually profound. Still, it’s hard to resist the swirling fight scenes and the moments of serenity shared by Miles and Gwen. Pixels put the Spider-Verse in peril, but they also beautifully bridge the vast distance between a girl and a boy. PG. BENNETT CAMPBELL FERGUSON. Academy, Bagdad, Cedar Hills, Cinema 21, City Center, Eastport, Fox Tower, Laurelhurst, Lloyd Center, Pioneer Place, St. Johns, St. Johns Twin, Studio One, Wunderland Beaverton, Wunderland Milwaukie.
FAST X
*** In this 10th Fast & Furious film, Vin Diesel neutralizes a bomb with a construction crane, John Cena disguises a spy plane as a canoe, and Jason Momoa paints the toenails of a corpse. Yet the real insanity was happening behind the camera. A week into filming, longtime Fast director Justin Lin quit the film, reportedly declaring, “This movie is not worth my mental health.” It was Lin who solidified the series’ signature blend of working-class vengeance (destroying a bank with a vault!), absurdist action (Ludacris and Tyrese in space!) and impassioned melodrama (family!). His journeyman replacement, Louis Leterrier (The Transporter), was never going to match Lin’s idiosyncratic flair, but he has made an appealingly sincere spectacle. This time, Dom Toretto (Diesel) and his family of street racers/de facto special forces agents are pursued by Dante (Momoa), a preening psychopath who vows vengeance on Dom for reasons too convoluted to explain here. Automotive insanity ensues, much of it rote; it’s touches of tenderness that make the movie, from a vignette about a grieving hotshot driver (Daniela Melchior) to a mid-car-chase testament of love from Cena’s Jakob to his brother Dom (“thank you for showing me the light”). There will never again be a Fast & Furious flick as gonzo and glorious as Tokyo Drift or Fast Five (even devout fans can sense the wind is no longer at the franchise’s back), but the series’ movingly messy humanity is intact. Which is another way of saying that Leterrier is at the wheel of a car that Lin built. PG-13. BENNETT CAMPBELL FERGUSON. Bridgeport, Cascade, Cedar Hills, City Center, Clackamas, Division, Evergreen Parkway, Fox Tower, Lloyd Center, Mill Plain, Pioneer Place, Progress Ridge, Vancouver Mall, Vancouver Plaza.
THE LITTLE MERMAID
*** Disney’s ongoing project to make live-action adaptations of its animated classics has thus far delivered mixed results at the best of times, but it’s an especially risky move when the House of Mouse tackles projects from its Renaissance era. The early ‘90s was when Disney perfected its formula for animated blockbusters, and works like Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin and The Lion King remain indelible touchstones for a generation of filmgoers. 1989′s The Little Mermaid is no exception, and while its modern update holds up better than most, it still struggles to find its own identity. The story remains a bowdlerized version of Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tale—a mermaid princess (Halle Bailey) goes against the demands of her overprotective father (Javier Bardem) and makes a Faustian bargain with a sea witch (Melissa McCarthy) to become human and win the heart of a handsome prince (Jonah Hauer-King)—with most of the film’s resources going to rendering the most vibrant and lush undersea world since Avatar: The Way of Water. Bailey’s performance is a stunning, starmaking endeavor, revealing her as a vividly talented name in the making (and her chemistry with Hauer-King helps sell the story). Plus, the filmmakers faithfully re-create iconic moments from the original in beautiful CGI, but it all can’t help but come off as a facsimile of a modern classic rather than anything experimental, challenging or bold. PG. MORGAN SHAUNETTE. Academy, Cedar Hills, City Center, Clackamas, Eastport, Fox Tower, Joy Cinema, Lake Theater, Evergreen Parkway, Lloyd Center, Oak Grove, Pioneer Place, St. Johns Twin, Studio One, Wunderland Milwaukie.
YOU HURT MY FEELINGS
*** Is Nicole Holofcener’s cup half full or half empty? Both, judging by You Hurt My Feelings, which she wrote and directed. This witty, perceptive film explores everyday dichotomies between truth and lies, encouragement and abuse, haves and have-nots. Beth (played by Julia Louis-Dreyfus, who proves again she’s adept at serious comedy) and Don (Tobias Menzies) are a long-married couple so cozy with each other they don’t mind licking the same ice cream cone. But when Beth, a writer, overhears Don say he doesn’t like her newest manuscript (even though he’s repeatedly told her he loves it), she loses her trust in him and her own abilities. The film asks how much harm we cause by telling well-meant white lies; has Beth, for example, put too much pressure on their pot-selling son by cheerfully insisting he’s destined to do great things? As the daughter of a man who called her “stupid” and “shit for brains,” though, she’s still lacerated by the memory of her late father’s slurs. All the characters in the film get tangled in webs of self-doubt, while also recognizing their privilege in a melting world, as Beth’s sister, Sarah (played by a splendid Michaela Watkins), says. Still, private dramas matter, and when Beth cries over her husband’s betrayal, the psychic pain on her face is as real as any physical wound. R. LINDA FERGUSON. Bridgeport, Cinema 21, Clackamas, Fox Tower, Laurelhurst, Living Room, Movies On TV, Vancouver Mall.
ABOUT MY FATHER
** About My Father seems a poor bet to nudge the uninitiated toward Sebastian Maniscalco’s touring act—and it probably won’t do much for his surely doomed bid for rom-com lead legitimacy. Underneath leaden narration without conceivable purpose beyond reminding audiences of our hero’s day job, the screenplay co-authored by Maniscalco wafts the aromas of goombah-grabs-brass-ring schtick around an evergreen plot conceit imagining the comic as a boutique hotelier introducing a resolutely Old World dad to new fiancée Leslie Bibb’s family of souring elites. With wide swaths of pungent ethnography presumably plucked from his stage routine, the dueling stereotypes should still rig sympathies for the home team, but under indie veteran Laura Terruso’s scattershot direction, these particular cultures somehow don’t so much clash as conceptually defy one another’s existence. Worse still are the ponderous set pieces—including the scene where a jet-booted Maniscalco winds up splaying his sea-shrunken genitals for prospective mother-in-law Kim Cattrall—and the unstructured bouts of awkward emoting with titular paterfamilias Robert De Niro, sleepwalking through yet another baffling project as a comic-opera mafioso ever threatening to vanish behind his bottom lip. Could Gen Z’s perceived self-involvement help explain his late-life lean toward dreck like this and Dirty Grandpa? Scene after scene in All About My Father, you can see other people standing there, but in every important way, they’re not standing with him. PG-13. JAY HORTON. Bridgeport, Cascade, City Center, Clackamas, Division, Evergreen Parkway, Movies On TV, Oak Grove, Progress Ridge, Studio One, Vancouver Mall.
BROOKLYN 45
** It’s probably “hokum,” admits the drunken colonel (played by horror luminary Larry Fessenden), but he’s just lost his wife and might like to turn his Christmas party into a séance. That’s where five old service friends find themselves in Brooklyn 45, just months after World War II’s conclusion, joining hands in a Park Slope parlor to test whether the soul of the colonel’s wife is nearby. The séance circle—Marla the former wartime interrogator (Anne Ramsay), her Pentagon clerk husband Bob (Ron E. Rains), and two majors (Jeremy Holm, Ezra Buzzington)—is skeptical, but they respect their ranking officer’s wishes. What follows is light horror hovering around a polemic chamber piece. In the American film lexicon, there’s still a compelling edge to depicting the U.S. victory in WWII as ridden with xenophobia, bloodlust and spiritual compromise, and Brooklyn 45′s script often forces the sometimes outgunned actors to say exactly that. Spoken once by a potential war criminal, the line “I’m not a bad man” is an eye roll, let alone twice. For all its twists, torture and worrying that Nazis walk among these paranoid vets, Brooklyn 45 struggles to live in the haunted, expository past and still uphold the immediacy of a confined, genre-shifting present. NR. CHANCE SOLEM-PFEIFER. Shudder.
WHITE MEN CAN’T JUMP
** Ron Shelton’s 1992 film White Men Can’t Jump is a minor classic in the sports comedy genre. It features fire and charm in its dialogue and performances, with Wesley Snipes and Woody Harrelson an electric pair to watch. Director Calmatic’s remake, on the other hand, is a pale imitation of Shelton’s movie. Rapper Jack Harlow plays Jeremy, a basketball hustler who teams with Kamal (Sinqua Walls); the latter blew a chance at a professional career 10 years earlier, and the two enter basketball competitions in Los Angeles together, even as they confront crises on the home front. The basic framework of the original film still remains, but the screenplay is more conventional and many of its jokes fall flat. Walls turns in a solid performance, but Harlow is more hit and miss in his debut acting role, while the majority of the supporting cast plays characters who are cartoonish (though the late Lance Reddick is strong in a small role as Kamal’s father). And though some of the game scenes are impressive (Tommy Maddox-Upshaw’s cinematography gives the imagery a sun-kissed look), you’d be better off watching Shelton’s film instead if you’ve somehow missed it. R. DANIEL RESTER. Hulu.