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Groundhog Day

Posted : 5 years, 3 months ago on 13 December 2018 08:00 (A review of Groundhog Day)

Workaholic asshole learns to appreciate the small things and slow down. Along the way they find love that was staring at them in the face in the entire time. A million romantic comedies have been built upon this structure, and they typically star a business woman falling for a salt of the earth type.

 

Well, Groundhog Day takes the typical “Bill Murray character” and gives him the comeuppance that eluded him in prior films. One of the great joys of star personas is in watching them stretch or get subverted in successive films. Murray spent a good part of the 80s developing a jocular asshole, a smug archetype that would machine-gun rattle quips and snark while remaining stagnant. He was happily anarchic and spotlight stealing, and Groundhog Day humbles him.

 

There’s a pleasing meta-textural element at play here. Actors on set often relive the same instances in a character’s life by repeating lines and filming scenes over and over again to the point of tedium. Pull back from that limited scope of behind the scenes knowledge and look at the structure of the film. It’s all about one character knowingly replaying the same day again until he learns something, or “gets it,” then finally being able to move on.

 

It’s this strangely limiting scope that enables Murray to provide one of his richest performances. If that feels like a contradiction, then realize that everyone else is basically locked into a repeat performance while Murray is self-aware about the truth. This provides a tremendous amount of wiggle room for him to improvise and throw wrenches into the predetermined system. Think of his movement through the stages of grief, complete with a montage of suicide attempts that are darkly hilarious and oddly touching, before arriving at a desire to better himself. The journey from A to B has a lot of potential for a comedic actor of Murray’s ability to combine sarcasm with deep feeling.

 

The mundanity of the structure and narrative loop could lend the film towards maudalin or heavy sentimentality, but Groundhog Day is delightfully spiky. That spoonful of arsenic makes the sugar go down in the most delightful way. Yes, the film wants to teach us about the empowerment of bettering ourselves, or nurturing our emotions and intellectual curiosity, but it also wants to wrap it all up in small town bric-a-brac that can easily lend itself towards corny Americana.

 

Murray and collaborator Harold Ramis manage to navigate the tricky tone and emerge with a perfectly sweet and tart comedy about spiritual development. While Murray’s character is threatened with the same day reoccurring ad infinitum, he eventually sees that if he develops as a person then he’ll manage to grow out of it. Groundhog Day reveals itself in its final moments as one of the most spiritual (if sarcastic) mainstream comedies ever made. Think of it as the jocular cousin of It’s a Wonderful Life.     



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Unforgiven

Posted : 5 years, 3 months ago on 12 December 2018 08:20 (A review of Unforgiven)

It is fitting that Unforgiven would be Clint Eastwood’s final traditional western, as it seems obsessed with not only the mythologies and portent of the Old West, but Eastwood’s own cinematic stature. Here he was transitioning away from expansive vistas and grizzled faces framed by cowboy hats and dripping with sweat towards his more “respectable” phase, the one in which Oscars rained down upon his films and he became the old guard of cinema. It is here that for all of the narrative revisionism on display, Eastwood’s penchant for “white elephant art” would trample all contenders in its path towards Academy glory.

 

Yet it does somehow feel appropriate that the man who found fame on Rawhide, one of the standard-bearers of the white hat/black hat morality of the genre, would go about toppling that easy archetypical duality. There are no white or black hats in Unforgiven, merely a series of characters wearing greys or dull earth tones. We have no prototypical western gunslinger here to bring order to a chaotic hamlet and drive out the bad guys. The bad guys have been tamed into structuring order into the town as they effectively function as judge, jury, and executioner.

 

The violence and romance, and where these two points dovetail in the imagination, of the Old West gets a workout. Much of Unforgiven’s power is in how it slowly strips away the glamor from the tales we’ve consumed about the wild, wild west and how it was won. Our consumption of the pioneering mythology is just that, a consumption of an elaborate series of tales that have been embellished into mythology. The natives weren’t primitive forces fighting against civilized society, they were a civilized society trying to protect themselves and their own cultures.

 

It’s that subtle flip that makes it all work. We’re introduced to our main character through a text crawl, one that reads like the pulpy prose of a dime store western novel, and his towering imagery is deflated from the start. We’re told he’s a man with a past of violence, destruction, anarchy, and is now one that has been quieted by the passing of time and what is socially permissible changing. He’s become domesticated, debatably willingly, much like the land that once functioned as his own heroic journey where he was the lone ranger bringing about order and vigilante justice.

 

We meet him as a pig farmer with two young children and a dead wife, and his misery of this lifestyle doldrum is palpable. It’s the presence of an upstart gunslinger and his tale that reignites a fire inside. Is there time for one last rabblerousing adventure before age and/or death claims him? Does this quest for revenge actually function as a rousing adventure? Is he acting for the sake of cosmic judicial scale balancing as he says, or is he trying to reclaim the mythology that has built around his youth?

 

If you’re looking for these characters to get a redemption or for Eastwood to underscore their violence as justice, then you’re looking in the wrong place. Several characters seem enamored with the deeds and stories of the grizzled, older characters, but it’s not the truth they’re fascinated by, it’s the folkloric aspects, the glamorous violence of the imagination. There’s a writer who rattles off factoids and trivia bits that gets a rude awakening when confronted with two of these figures locked in a battle of wills. There’s no gun fire in that scene, merely the threat of it, and it’s more disturbing then the scenes of actual violence for its threat of polite society decomposing at the first provocation.

 

Yet for all the sympathy it elicits for its prostitutes, we root for them and their meager efforts to press against the patriarchal structure ruling over them, and for all of the slow erosion of male braggadocio, masculine grandeur, and pop culture glorification of violence, Unforgiven strangely fails to engage with race in any meaningful way. The blind casting of Morgan Freeman as Eastwood’s partner is interesting and there’s a few mentions of his time in the Civil War trenches, yet nothing much comes of it. Same goes for English Bob’s constant waxing poetical about the Chinese exploitation to build the railroad system. There’s one native woman who gets a completely silent part as Freeman’s wife, and that’s about it for it on that front.

 

Sure, Unforgiven is revisionist in some respects, but it tantalizing teases a few other threads that it then goes about ignoring. These threads feel more classical in nature, and several of them weigh Unforgiven down. English Bob, for instance, is a character that disrupts the narrative flow upon his introduction and then sticks around for a long while before finally paying off with a powerful monologue with Gene Hackman’s Little Bill in a jail cell. Eastwood’s “shoot the first draft” approach sometimes works in that it lends his films a distinctively odd character for all of their traditional virtues, but they also wind up with quite a bit of fat on the bones.

 

There’s also the duality at play that in the climatic shootout that puts a dent into the revisionism of mythologies at play here. Yes, it’s a stunner as filmed and edited, and one that is rightfully famous, but there’s something at odds within itself. You have the image of Hackman begging for mercy, we’ve been asked to sympathize with a misogynist that happily abuses his power over the town, so there’s something of a script-flip in that we feel a shred of empathy for the antagonist, but there’s Eastwood standing tall and mowing down a room full of people. That’s a well-known image of his career, one that he traded on from the early 60s straight through to this film’s 1992 release.  This is a cinematic ceremony as most westerns and revenge films, funny how often these two overlap, frequently end in a blood soaked shootout with our unkillable hero emerging from it all unscathed. Unforgiven wants to subvert the tropes it ends up celebrating, and it was just daring enough to finally bring Eastwood respectability and awards recognition.

 

I guess Unforgiven does have a happy ending after all.



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Trolls

Posted : 5 years, 3 months ago on 7 December 2018 08:20 (A review of Trolls)

Does any current studio adhere harder to a predetermined formula more than DreamWorks Animation? From the moment Trolls starts to build its world it’s incredibly obvious how the players will change, where the pieces will move around, and how it’ll wrap up. There’ll be an avalanche of pop culture references hammered in, a veritable example of square peg into a round hole, and a grab-bag of celebrity voice acting. Oh, and don’t forget that we need to send the audience out on a big dance party!

 

You know, for a film that features a naked character covered in glitter (and yes, he frequently farts glitter), Trolls does have a few bright spots. Namely, there’s a pleasing scrapbook and tactile quality to the design of the film. There’s a lot of creatures made up of yarn, buttons, and threads, and moments, far too intermittent, where the film transitions into a scrapbook-like play. It’s these few moments where a better, more adventurous Trolls movie pokes out.

 

It’s quickly subsumed by a soundtrack that’s filled with mashups and kid-friendly covers of pop tunes. Why is DreamWorks so obsessed with repurposing pop songs as anthems? The only time this really works in Trolls is in a quiet, emotional moment when our grumpy character sings to a crestfallen sunny one. That song, “True Colors,” is already an emotionally packed song, and one that is just vague enough to work in a variety of contexts and moods.

 

Notice that I haven’t talked about the script for Trolls yet, and there’s a valid reason for that. It’s the thinnest gruel, a combination of hero’s journey, love story, and musical adventure that’s clichĂ© from the word go. Will the sunny character learn the value of other emotions? You bet. Will the grumpy one regain his vibrancy after exposing his Tragic Backstoryℱ and joining up with the sunny one? Absolutely. Will the villains house a sympathetic character that helps our heroes and works through her own emotional arch? Yep, got that too.

 

Calling Trolls a clichĂ© feels somehow an insult to clichĂ©s. Trolls is straight-up rolled off of the assembly line, and super-engineered to entertain the tots and sell a ton of merchandise. DreamWorks has franchising in mind here, and they’ve barely bothered to conceal that aim. They made a movie with just enough personality to guarantee solid box office returns, a spinoff tv show, and a sequel (or three).



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Tarzan & Jane

Posted : 5 years, 3 months ago on 7 December 2018 08:20 (A review of Tarzan & Jane)

Nothing destroyed the brand integrity quite like the unnecessary Disney direct-to-video sequel market. Many of them over-explain things that weren’t a mystery from the original film, or continue a story that felt self-contained and complete already. Then there’s the others like Tarzan & Jane that are basically three or more episodes of their spinoff shows jammed together with a loose framing device, and these are no better.

 

Some of these Disney spinoff shows had merit, Aladdin was a ton of fun and Hercules has its fans, but the movies that either acted as springboards or spliced together individual stories frequently don’t work. It’s not just the woefully limited budgets that leave the characters looking “off,” but it’s the lack of a coherent story or reason for the films to exist in general outside of brand recognition.

 

There’s profits to be had, so damn what made the original film work!

 

Tarzan & Jane picks up where the original film ended with the couple happily married and coming up on their one-year anniversary. Each episode is a glimpse of Jane’s Britain encroaching on Tarzan’s jungle life and friends. You ever wanted to watch Tarzan become gentrified, then this is the direct-to-video film for you!

 

Long gone is the sense of danger, the thrill of watching Tarzan swing through the trees, but they kept the awkward Phil Collins songs and added in Mandy Moore, for reasons. I think that’s a basic summary of what’s wrong with this film – it keeps the things that were awkward from the original film and dilutes the strengths. It’s best to leave Tarzan & Jane alone in the jungle.



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Merry Christmas

Posted : 5 years, 3 months ago on 6 December 2018 08:38 (A review of Merry Christmas)

I may prefer my Christmas music of the distinctively secular kind, and I may generally find the overly reverent standards to be more funereal than celebratory, but I know a solid holiday album when I hear one. Mariah Carey’s pop-friendly R&B-lite has never directly appealed to me, but like any good gay boy worth his wait in diva worship I’ve appreciated a few songs over the years. One of them would be the justifiably famous original she launched into the canon of yuletide classics, where it’s always sounded perfectly at home since its debut.

 

It doesn’t hurt that Carey keeps the guest rappers, the displays of trend-chasing, and the strange need to function as a distracted disco chanteuse away throughout. She merely plants her feet squarely on the ground, surrounds herself with live instrumentation and a healthy dose of gospel choir backing, and belts towards the heavens. If this isn’t her best collection of vocal performances, then I’m sure one of her lambs would agree that it’s towards the top of the list.

 

Well, for the most part.

 

(Screaming) Mimi can’t help herself when it comes to “Joy to the World.” She marries the traditional to the Three Dog Night beat, throws in a bit of club swagger, and over sings like it’s last call at the drag bar and the tips are running low. Then there’s the way that her original songs, you know the ones not named “All I Want for Christmas Is You,” just limp along as ballads whose sole existence to buckle under the weight of Carey’s octave-scaling and vocal tics. “Jesus Born on This Day” even throws in a children’s choir for extra treacle and sogginess. It’s the kind of holiday music that makes an Scrooge out of you.

 

She’s much better ripping arrangements and material from Phil Spector’s holiday playbook. Not only does she cover Darlene Love’s immortal “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home),” but takes a spin on the Crystals’ version of “Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town.” She sounds positively buoyant and confident on these songs. “Santa Claus,” in particular, features some playful vocal choices that are quite fetching.

 

It’s when Carey plays it old school that the album soars. Think of how the cover places her as a chaste pinup, and then listen to “All I Want for Christmas Is You.” That one wouldn’t sound out of place on A Christmas Gift for You From Phil Spector. In fact, one of her music videos for it had her playing Ronnie Spector, and one can easily imagine Ronnie’s voice belting the lovelorn lyrics with gusto. It’s no surprise this song has become a staple as it sounds like it was plopped out of the glut of Christmas songs from the 50s/60s.

 

When Carey focuses on playing gospel belter or girl group pop princess that Merry Christmas soars. Sure, there’s too many ballads and the Christian material gets a little bit much after a while, but there’s still plenty to recommend here. It’s a reminder of what a gift Carey’s voice once was. Time and overuse may have weakened some of its power, but listen to her tame “Silent Night” or “Jesus Oh What a Wonderful Child” and bow before a titan. Her love for the material shines through, but Merry Christmas remains a testament to the religious power and mystery of Carey’s golden throat.  

 

DOWNLOAD: “All I Want for Christmas Is You”



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A Star Is Born

Posted : 5 years, 3 months ago on 3 December 2018 03:28 (A review of A Star Is Born)

Color me surprised at this fourth (fifth if you count 1932’s What Price Hollwood?) dip into the well has produced such an enjoyable version. Of course, it’s immediate predecessor was the property’s nadir, Barbra Streisand’s onerous 1976 version, so nearly anything would’ve registered as an improvement. But 2018’s version of A Star Is Born isn’t just an improvement, it’s a well-made romantic melodrama that’s second only to Judy Garland’s immortal 1954 version.

 

Everyone knows the barebones of this story: fading star, either a movie star or a singer, meets undiscovered girl talent, either aspiring actress or singer, and champions her career. They fall in love, and she remains loyal to him as his self-destruction threatens to destroy her nascent career in addition to his crumbling one. The final moments, if done right, are tearjerkers of the highest order as the fading star commits suicide and the ingénue pays tribute as a moment of personal and artistic triumph overcoming her sorrow. Roll the end credits.

 

This version of A Star Is Born proves how much wiggle room there can be between those signposts. Much like the 1976 version, our doomed romantic pair are musicians. He’s a country/blues rocker, and she’s a budding pop star in the making. It makes sense to keep this story change from the prior film as the mystique of movie stars crumbled with the passing of the studio era. There’s no longer a large publicity department churning out fictional backstories on its stable of stars, remaking them into totems and cinematic idols, but the music industry still allows for pop stars to create artificial personas to hide behind.

 

Speaking of, one of the genius moves this film makes was to cast Lady Gaga as the aspiring pop starlet. Gaga’s exactly the kind of persona-heavy pop star I’m talking about. Who is the real person behind the construct, and does it matter? Well, A Star Is Born has moments of doubt or criticism that feel lifted from her time spent slumming away in dive bars finessing her kooky outfits and shiny dance-pop. Whether or not they’re directly lifted is immaterial, they feel real and Gaga plays them with an honesty and naked emotional candor that’s quite refreshing.

 

It’s not just that Gaga’s appearance lends the film a kind of honesty that the presence of an actress who can sing wouldn’t, but that we’re familiar enough with her as a construct that it’s revelatory to watch the real human being underneath it all. Gaga’s performance is candid, truthful, and completely free of artifice. There’s honest to god quaking, aching vulnerability that’s endearing. You root for her to succeed, you’re invested in her triumphs, and you understand why she sticks it out with this man that’s a liability to her professional and personal life at numerous points.

 

Yet A Star Is Born 2018 differs from its predecessors in a highly noticeable way. Janet Gaynor and Judy Garland’s versions gave the two roles near equal footing even if the female lead got just a touch more sympathy and screen time, and the Streisand version orbited around its star to the occasional detriment of everything else. This version stacks the audience sympathy, understanding, and development in favor of Bradley Cooper’s doomed rock star with Gaga routinely playing second fiddle. This A Star Is Born is more of his story then it is hers or theirs.

 

Maybe the fact that Cooper co-wrote, directed, and starred in it has something to do with that, or maybe it’s that there’s such a strong focus on the trauma, addiction, recovery, and mental illness of his rock star that Gaga’s rapid ascent up the career ladder couldn’t help but fade away. Cooper’s performance is an absolute marvel. The choice to end the film with Gaga singing the love song he wrote for her only for it to dissolve to a happy time of them goofing around the piano and figuring it out is a smart one. It ends the film on a note of creative expression and romance and differentiates it from the weepy downbeats that end the prior films. I wouldn’t call it a happy ending, but it’s a more emotionally complex one than the others.

 

It’s Sam Elliott’s last minute speech, the one about how there only being a few notes between an octave and it’s how you play them that matters, that summarizes the film, and works as an argument for it. If we can sit through endless remakes of other properties, Robin Hood and King Arthur: Legend of the Sword as very recent examples, then surely we can afford space for another spin on this story. Like any other long running and heavily adapted property, some versions are better than others, so props to Cooper for making what is easily the second best. It’s a well-worn story told with grit, humor, romance, music, and tremendous empathy. I’m shocked at its greatness just as much as you are.   



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Masterminds

Posted : 5 years, 3 months ago on 3 December 2018 03:28 (A review of Masterminds)

I’m going to assume that the true story was just a kernel here. A mere springboard for its talented ensemble to riff and develop a series of improbable characters and situations, but that’s also the problem with Masterminds. Too much anarchy and lunacy in service of nothing but those exact elements becomes numbing. For comedy to work there has to be a grounding element, a truth and goal at work to keep the hijinks from twisting away into madness for madness sake. I think you see where I’m going with this.

 

Masterminds present no recognizably human characters or emotions aside from Kristin Wiig, who often appears to be acting in another, better movie entirely. In small supporting parts this can work, look at Kate McKinnon’s aggressively committed near-android of a spurned ex, but when so many of the characters present as these caricatures it begins to drown itself out in a sea of mugging, scene-stealing, and desperation.

 

This is a reoccurring issue with Jared Hess’ work, the most famous of which is Napoleon Dynamite, a hangout film that presents a time warp setting and no characters that resemble a functional, normal person that’s gained  a cult following. Hess lets his cast rapid-fire jokes at the screen, and by sheer volume of material some of these land. For every DOA reoccurring joke involving misfiring guns, obsession with butt cracks, and wasting Leslie Jones (a crime, I say!), there’s the sheer weirdness of McKinnon, Wiig’s discomfort with a kiss from Zach Galifianakis wearing a sleek blond wig and snake eye contacts, or Jason Sudeikis’ overly emotional hitman.

 

In the end Masterminds evens out to being fine. The kind of fare you watch on a bored evening at home while sorting through Netflix and thinking “this sounds fine.” A cast this good deserves better, though.



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Ronnie Spector’s Best Christmas Ever

Posted : 5 years, 3 months ago on 3 December 2018 03:25 (A review of Ronnie Spector's Best Christmas Ever)

For me it’s not the season until I hear A Christmas Gift For You from Phil Spector, namely for the Ronettes songs and Darlene Love’s “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home).” I fully admit to loving rock and roll Christmas music. Nothing fills me with the joy of the season quite like hearing Ronnie Spector making Frosty melt, so I’m down to listen to whatever holiday music she makes.

 

Having said that, Ronnie Spector’s Best Christmas Ever is a bit thin on quality material, which is a shame since it’s a five-song EP. There isn’t much room for subpar material on a twenty minute record, and she’s released better EPs before, She Talks to Rainbows and Something’s Gonna Happen, so it’s not like it’s impossible. The problem is that Spector’s clearly hammy it up on material that’s beneath her.

 

“My Christmas Wish” is a cutesy retro pop/rock opener, and it’s perfect for her showgirl chutzpah. Then we get to the next two songs: “It’s the Time (Happy Holidays)” and “Light One Candle.” The first is a Latin pop number that doesn’t vibe with Spector’s voice, and only stands out for an adorable spoken word moment where she shares a precious childhood memory. No, I won’t repeat it because you need to discover that for yourself. “Light One Candle” is exactly the kind of heavily sentimental, overly drippy song that makes people dislike Christmas music.

 

The last two songs are much better. “Best Christmas Ever” is cheesy pop/rock that swings like 50s pastiche. It’s fun, it’s junk food for your ear, it’s kinda perfect for her. Then we end with “It’s Christmas Once Again.” Once again, Spector provides an autobiographical spoken word memory, and the surrounding song is tailor-made for her vocal style. The original bad girl of rock has always had a soft, gooey center, and this song plays into that.

 

Ronnie Spector’s Best Christmas Ever ends up being about average. Her voice sounds right at home on alternative rock, so imagine if she’d covered something like the Ramones’ “Merry Christmas (I Don’t Want to Fight Tonight)” or the Kinks’ “Father Christmas.” Then again, there’s a plethora of 50s and 60s Christmas tunes she could’ve done: “Little Saint Nick,” “Blue Christmas,” “Run, Run Rudolph,” “Jingle Bell Rock.” Hell, I saw her perform “Happy Xmas (War Is Over)” as part of her encore and a studio version of that would be cool. Oh, what might have been.

 

DOWNLOAD: “It’s Christmas Once Again”



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Paint Another Picture

Posted : 5 years, 3 months ago on 3 December 2018 03:24 (A review of Paint Another Picture)

Is it shocking to learn that Darlene Love never recorded a solo album until 1988? Yes and no, honestly, as Love came to prominence during the singles era when 45s ruled all, and it wasn’t until later that the LP became the thing. It’s also important to remember that she was primarily tied to Phil Spector during those years, and he had a jaundiced view on the LP, dubbing a few hit singles and some filler.

 

So how’d her first solo outing turn out? Not too bad, even if the 80s production values date some of the material. Her voice is as powerful as ever here, obtaining a grit and emotive power that can be chalked up to age, experience, and technique. Her artistic range remains as elastic as ever as Paint Another Picture zips between pop, AOR, and a haunting gospel finale.

 

Sure, there’s nothing here that can compare to the best bits found on The Sound of Love: The Very Best of Darlene Love, especially a generic update of “He’s Sure the Boy I Love,” but there’s still a solid album here. Love makes songs like “Paint Another Picture” and “I’ve Never Been the Same” quake with the feeling she gives them and the church-soaked power in her vocals. That’s why I can’t get her version of “You’ll Never Walk Alone” out of my mind. Love grew up singing in a gospel choir, and she knows her way around a song like this. Yet her version still shakes the rafters with her emotional rendering and restrained delivery. It strips away the 80s sheen and leaves you with something very real. That’s why she’s one of the greatest vocalists in the history of rock and roll.

 

DOWNLOAD: “You’ll Never Walk Alone”



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Paddington

Posted : 5 years, 4 months ago on 29 November 2018 10:00 (A review of Paddington)

If you see the words “live action Paddington movie” and immediately go into a dark place, I get that. Between the preponderance of fairy tale blockbusters, needlessly snarky adaptations, or ones that pull and stretch the material beyond recognition, adapting beloved children’s books and stories hasn’t been on the hottest streak as of late. For every Coraline there’s about five Cat in the Hat or Garfield: The Movie. So I completely understand that chilling feeling slowly moving down your spine and settling into your stomach.

 

But here’s the very good news: Paddington is far more a Coraline then it is a Cat in the Hat. It’s a film of tremendous whimsy, lacking in guile, and populated by kooky, charming characters that exhibit tremendous layers, even our villain is given a backstory that explains her profession and obsession with Paddington. It’s also really funny, has great special effects work, and has a stellar vocal performance from Ben Whishaw in the lead role.

 

This is after all a film where a talking bear can stand in the middle of a crowded railway station and be greeted with indifference from many of the urban denizens. The film takes it as a given that there’s an element of magical realism at play with children’s literature, and it never goes to great lengths to explain away how and why Paddington can talk. His species of bear can talk and learned English thanks to an explorer several decades back, that’s it, thank god for simplicity. It’s here that the filmmakers and Paddington’s overwhelming sincerity dovetail – Paddington isn’t just a fish-out-of-water story, but one of found families, kindness, and providing emotional support.

 

Which isn’t to say that there aren’t moments of daring or ample shenanigans, this is a children’s film after all. Many of them are quite funny, a marmalade sandwich acting as a brick through bureaucracy, Paddington mistaking toothbrushes for ear cleaners, or his accidental flooding of a bathroom are all jubilant, quirky little moments that further the narrative, display his naivety, or merely exist to make you smile. Sometimes they manage to capture all three at once, and that’s the great joy of the film.

 

It helps that actors as strong as Hugh Bonneville as fuddy-duddy dad, Nicole Kidman as our somewhat-sympathetic villain, Julie Walters as eccentric maid, and Jim Broadbent as an immigrant bringing a tremendous amount of pathos to his scenes breathe life into the film. They’re all clearly enjoying what they’re doing, and that sense of fun and enjoyment translates through the screen to you. That’s no easy feat.

 

Yet it’s Sally Hawkins as the matriarch that sees magic and adventure everywhere that provides a solid human face for us. Hawkins appears to be making a habit lately of playing women adopting empathetic creatures, and her loopy mother is a ton of fun. She’s the empathetic center of Paddington, the human face that allows us to find the beating heart of the talking bear. We love him as much as she does by the end.

 

It’s that beating heart at the center of Paddington that makes it all so perfect. There’s humor, warmth, and a refreshing gentleness to be found here, and I’m all for it. Less snark and more overly polite talking bears wearing red hats and blue coats, please.



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