A Bad Moms Christmas (2017)

Bad Moms Christmas.jpg

I can’t do this shit sober. Under-appreciated and overburdened suburban moms Amy (Mila Kunis), Kiki (Kristen Bell) and Carla (Kathryn Hahn) rebel against the challenges and expectations of the biggest day of the year: Christmas. As if creating the perfect holiday for their families isn’t hard enough, they’ll have to do it while hosting and entertaining their own respective mothers (Christine Baranski, Cheryl Hines and Susan Sarandon) when they come to visit early, unwanted and uninvited, thwarting all the ladies’ plans for a laidback break from all of this as they start redecorating, competing and bitching about their useless daughters …  Please God no more pussies. The ladies are back – with a vengeance. And their moms are here too, bringing a psycho(logical) dimension to the antics which are more scatological, bittersweet and episodic this time round as the mother-daughter dynamics are explored in their varying levels of possessiveness, competitiveness and sluttiness. It’s not particularly focused and falls between the three stools of the individual dramas but the cast are excellent. Instead of a PTA election we have a carolling competition; instead of a celebrity cameo from Martha Stewart we have Kenny G the godfather of soulful jazz, as Baranski intones; and Wanda Sykes makes a welcome return as the seen-it-all therapist. Other than the innuendo and the work-related seasonal sexploitation (courtesy of the very picturesque Justin Hartley), it’s fairly anodyne entertainment but a spinoff with the Bad Grandmas seems likely courtesy of some very shrewd casting.  Written and directed again by Jon Lucas & Scott Moore. You shouldn’t have to see your mom kiss your boyfriend’s nipples

 

 

From Jon Lucas and Scott Moore.

Certain Women (2016)

Certain Women.jpg

It’d be so lovely to think that if I were a man I could explain the law and people would listen and say, Okay. Three strong-willed women in the Northwest try to make their way. Lawyer Laura (Laura Dern) finds herself contending with office misogyny and a hostage scenario involving a betrayed client (Jared Harris) injured in a workplace accident.  Wife and mom Gina (Michelle Williams) finds herself at odds with men including her own husband (James Le Gros) over a house addition using sandstone from the olden days owned by a future neighbour (Rene Auberjonois). Young lawyer Elizabeth (Kristen Stewart) forms a bond with a woman rancher (Lily Gladstone) in the night class she drives four hours to teach... My mom works in a school cafeteria, my sister in a hospital laundry. So, selling shoes is the nicest job a girl from my family’s supposed to get. Auteur Kelly Reichardt has carved out a very particular niche in American filmmaking with small stories, beautifully minimalist yet expressive, and mostly made in collaboration with Michelle Williams. The siege scene is misleading;  everything that follows is on female terms, and subdued. The misunderstandings, betrayals and disappointments are of the purely quotidian variety. Adapted from Maile Meloy’s collection of short stories Both Ways is the Way that I Want It, the characters here aren’t quite cyphers but they’re not fully rounded either: perhaps they’re aspects of femininity, subsisting in small lives that nonetheless have their effects – Dern is the lawyer whose private agreement may have implications for another client, and the man with whom she’s having an affair carries his guilt into his own marriage. Stewart’s student clearly has a thing for her but Stewart simply hasn’t the time and is non-plussed at the woman’s appearance in her workplace.  Williams is in a sense the missing link between the three separate stories bringing matters sexual and domestic to their logical place – home:  Gina’s husband has been carrying on with Laura. The opposite of showy entertainment, this somehow has a spiritual link with Meek’s Cutoff in its depiction of women trying to forge their own paths in that tough territory also known as life. The only Indians here are dancing for their supper at the local mall. Each of the women’s stories can be encapsulated in something elemental:  for Laura it is the law and guns;  for Gina it’s land and motherhood;  for the nameless rancher it’s horses and unrequited love. Elizabeth remains unknowable (a good parsing of Stewart’s place in American as opposed to European cinema). The film opens on a train breaking frame:  this is perhaps a western.

Book Club (2018)

Book Club.jpg

 If women our age were meant to have sex God wouldn’t do what he does to our bodies. Four friends in Los Angeles, widowed Diane (Diane Keaton), hotel owner Vivian (Jane Fonda), divorced federal judge Sharon (Candice Bergen) and married chef Carol (Mary Steenburgen) have had a book club for thirty years and this month’s choice is Fifty Shades of Grey. It causes them all to re-evaluate their unhappy sex and romantic lives. Diane agrees to a date with a pilot (Andy Garcia) she meets on an aeroplane journey which offers a pleasing diversion from her two daughters (Alicia Silverstone and Katie Aselton) nagging her to move to their basement in Arizona (bizarre).  Vivian hooks up with Arthur (Don Johnson) the radio producer she didn’t marry forty years earlier.  Sharon goes on dates with men she meets online.  Carol hasn’t had sex with newly retired Bruce (Craig T. Nelson) in six months and their dance classes fizzle out. As the women read the next books in the trilogy their lives become more complicated … There are some frankly strange story issues here and I don’t just mean E.L. James’ source books: Diane’s daughters’ behaviour is literally unbelievable, even for a comedy (and the pregnant one doesn’t even give birth by the end, probably a good thing);  Sharon’s second date doesn’t actually materialise (with Wallace Shawn); and we never see any of them doing the deed (part of the thesis about ender relationships).   However there are pluses:  there are great innuendo-ridden exchanges, particularly in the first half, when sex really is on the table. Fonda makes a meal of them: I don’t sleep with people I like, you know that. I gave that up in the 90’s. As in life, when emotions get in the way the dialogue dips a lot which is ironic considering this is about book lovers, as it were (insert your own Fifty Shades joke here – and E.L. James and her husband even make a short appearance).   The production design (Rachel O’Toole) and cinematography (Andrew Dunn) enhance a film fuelled by female star power (the men are mostly useless) with some very nice shots of the Santa Monica Pier and the Painted Desert to liven up your ageist horizons.  Written by debut director Bill Holderman with Erin Simms who presumably wanted us all to experience some kind of late life fake orgasm.

The Freshman (1990)

The Freshman 1990.jpg

I had been in New York nineteen minutes and eleven seconds and I was already ruined. Kansas/Vermont/Montana boy Clark Kellogg (Matthew Broderick) is robbed moments after arriving in New York to study film at NYU. When he sees his mugger Victor (Bruno Kirby) through a window several days later during a meeting with his tutor Fleeber (Paul Benedict), he confronts him. Victor promises to return his property and get him a job with his uncle, Carmine Sabatini (Marlon Brando), who turns out to be a Mafia boss. Clark can’t help but notice his uncanny resemblance to The Godfather. His first job (for $500!) is to pick up a komodo dragon from a lot in New Jersey which escapes at a gas station when his roommate Steve (Frank Whaley) opens the car door to smoke. The dragon runs amok in a mall. When Clark tells his mom on the phone about his new job his environmental activist stepdad Dwight (Kenneth Welsh) overhears. Carmine has lined up his daughter Tina (Penelope Ann Miller) to marry Clark. As Clark continues his shady work for Carmine, he discovers an elaborate underworld that has caught the attention of the authorities. He’s chased by men from the Department of Justice who are particularly interested in the wildlife Carmine is importing and he’s persuaded to become an informer. As things come to a head, not everything is what it seems. The endangered species are being prepared for a deluxe meal at a gourmet club where Carmine fleeces the rich for millions … I was once asked at a dinner party what I thought of Bergman. I responded, Ingmar or Andrew? Because that’s the kind of all-round entertaining dinner guest I am! In truth I’ve always enjoyed Andrew Bergman’s movies – they never fail to engage or amuse and this is no different. In fact I’d forgotten just how hilarious this is. You ain’t seen nothing till you’ve seen Brando on ice skates. This is a genuinely funny spoof with lots of endearing performances and a couple of artfully chosen excerpts from a certain pair of classic Mafia movies serve as commentary on the narrative that pastiches them. And if you have ever taken a film studies class you will get a kick out of Benedict’s painfully apt role as the self-obsessed lecturer. Brando is quite brilliant parodying himself and Broderick even out-Ferrises himself in some scenes. Great fun.

Arlington Road (1999)

arlington-road-poster

What are you doing? How many people are you going to kill? You know you’re watching a terrific thriller when Joan Cusack’s sudden appearance at a phone booth makes you jump out of your seat in fright. The screenplay by the gifted Ehren Kruger is concerned with homegrown terrorism, a notion that has never gone away but had particular currency in the era of Timothy McVeigh. Jeff Bridges is recently widowed history lecturer Michael Faraday who discovers that his new neighbours Oliver Lang (Tim Robbins) and his family might be plotting something very nasty indeed and realises too late that his young son is spending way too much time in their company. This is a brilliantly sustained tense piece of work which never drops the ball and is tonally pretty perfect. An underrated achievement. Directed by Mark Pellington. I’m a messenger Michael, I’m a messenger! There’s millions of us, waiting to take up arms, ready to spread the word… millions of us!