Author Archives: Jackrabbit Slim

About Jackrabbit Slim

Location: Vegas, Baby! I’m much older than the other whippersnappers here, a baby boomer. I tend to be more snobbish about film, disdaining a lot of the multiplex fare for “cinema.” My favorite films: Woody Allen’s oeuvre (up until about 1990), The Godfather, The Graduate, A Hard Day’s Night, Pulp Fiction. Politics: Well, George McGovern was my political hero. I’m also a prickly atheist. Occupation: Poised to be an English teacher in Las Vegas. For many years I was an editor at Penthouse Magazine. My role on this blog seems to be writing lots of reviews and being the resident Oscar maven.

Review: Alien: Covenant

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In the first moments of Alien: Covenant, I had a sinking feeling. I saw Prometheus, as I’ve seen all of the Alien films, but I couldn’t remember anything about it except that the fuel was plotted by scientists acting stupidly. But then the characters of Covenant started filling me in. Fear not if you haven’t seen Prometheus, they will explain it all to you.

Once I got that out of the way, I hunkered down for a very scary thrill ride, even if it requires the use of the “idiot plot” and very old and moldy horror-film cliches (any character than has to go off on their own but “will be right back” is goner). Again, we have trained people, on an uncharted planet, seeing something they don’t recognize, and tapping it just to see what happens. We also have characters trusting androids who are acting suspiciously like Bond villains.

But aside from all that, Alien: Covenant is gruesome fun. Ridley Scott is the director (as we was for the original Alien, now 38 years old, and Prometheus) and it forms a bridge between those two films (although if the box office is good enough, maybe they can wedge another film in there). A crew of fifteen is on a colonization mission, carrying 2,000 people to an Earth-like planet. They are in suspended animation (we see a lot of films like this, including the recent Passengers, and I have to wonder, why doesn’t their hair grow while they are asleep?) but are awoken early due to a stellar flare. The captain, James Franco, is incinerated in his pod, so Billy Crudup takes command.

On a spacewalk, another crew member (Danny McBride) gets a rogue signal of someone singing a John Denver song. They track the origin to another planet that meets qualification for habitation. Crudup decides that instead of traveling another seven years to their original destination, they will go there and check it out. Katherine Waterston, second in command, thinks is a bad idea. Lesson: listen to Katherine Waterston.

This planet turns out to be the Prometheus planet. If you remember that film, only the android David (Michael Fassbender) “survived.” He’s still there, having reattached his head. I’ll leave what he’s up to for your surprise. The Covenant crew also has an android who is also played by Michael Fassbender, Walter (apparently Wayland Industries, the corporation behind all of this, liked Fassbender’s face so much they made many more). This involves neat scenes where Fassbender acts with himself.

Anyhoo, suffice it to say that the planet is thick with the H. R. Giger-created aliens, which I see are referred to as xenomorphs, and they wreak havoc, as one by one the crew are killed off in horrible ways. These films have become a kind of And Then There Were None game, guessing who will live and who will die, That’s fun, in a dumb kind of way. In addition to the idiot plot, there is a twist at the end that I saw way ahead of time, and I’m sure anyone who has ever seen a movie can figure out (but of course, the crew can’t). It helps if you know your romantic poets.

So there is some eye-rolling involved with Alien: Covenant but also some really good scares and a nice sense of dread that permeates the film. A smarter script would have made this one of the best of the series.

Opening in Las Vegas, May 19, 2017

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In the sixth Alien film (the first was 38 years ago!) Ridley Scott helms Alien: Covenant (66), which is both a sequel (to Prometheus) and a pre-quel (to Aliens 1-4). It’s getting good enough reviews that I think I’ll venture out. I’m surprised to realize I’ve seen all the Alien films in their original releases (even Alien 4, but that was because of Winona Ryder).

Everything, Everything (51) seems like a take on the old Boy in the Bubble movie (who else remembers Glynnis O’Connor?). Probably will do a lot of business on Friday nights with teen girls and then disappear into oblivion.

The Diary of a Wimpy Kid: The Long Haul (41) is a reboot. It’s been five years since the last one (where has the time gone?) and the kids had to be replaced. My sixth-graders love these books, probably because they are written in a handwriting font and take about ten minutes to read. Needless to say, I’ve never seen one of these and hope never to.

Richard Gere is now playing old men (again, where has the time gone?) and his latest is Norman (76), which is subtitled “The Moderate Rise and Tragic Fall of a New York Fixer.” It’s hard to tell what this movie is about, and despite its decent reviews, the title and Gere seem to be pushing me away.

Robert De Niro

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deniroRobert De Niro has been all over the place lately. Now 73 years old, he has been showing up for panel discussions on important anniversaries of his films (last year it was the 40th for Taxi Driver, this year it was the 45th for The Godfather, though he was the only cast member on the panel who was not in it, he was only in The Godfather, Part II). He received the Presidential Medal of Freedom from President Obama last year (that would not be a likely award from President Trump, whom De Niro said he wanted to punch in the face) and was this year’s recipient of The Film Society of Lincoln Center’s Chaplin Award (and thus is on the cover of this month’s Film Comment). He has already won the AFI Life Achievement Award, the Kennedy Center Honors, and the Golden Globes’ Cecil B. DeMille Award. He has won two Academy Awards, with a total of seven nominations.

Over on Go-Go-Rama in the coming weeks I’ll be having my own retrospective of his career, as I haven’t had a chance to write about many of his films. His career, as most cinephiles know, has had its up and downs. From 1973, when he burst on the scene in two films, Bang the Drum Slowly and Mean Streets, to the early ’80s, when he chalked up four Oscar nominations, he was part of the new Hollywood, a young firebrand, the heir to Brando (he even played the younger version of Brando’s Vito Corleone in The Godfather, Part II).

But then his career went into decline. He did make what I think is one of his greatest performances, King of Comedy, in 1983, but then took projects seemingly without reading the script. We get marginal stuff like Angel Heart, The Mission (it did get an Oscar nomination for Best Picture but he was miscast), True Confessions, and the turkey Falling in Love, with Meryl Streep. I liked Midnight Run and his amusing turn in The Untouchables, but We’re No Angels? Stanley and Iris? (I can still hear his plea to Jane Fonda–“Teach me how to read!”).

His career picked up, thanks to Scorsese again, with Goodfellas in 1990, though interestingly his role was the least flamboyant. He followed that with two more Oscar nominations: Awakenings, and the way-over-the-top Cape Fear (which has become iconic–if you hear somebody laughing way too loud in a movie theater, you will think of De Niro in that film).

Then he went into the wilderness awhile, with some good films, like Heat, Casino, and Wag the Dog, and some terrible ones, like The Fan. He worked a lot, probably too much to keep his legacy from streak marks. Some projects seemed promising–playing The Creature in Kenneth Branagh’s Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, a re-imagining of Great Expectations by Alfonso Cuaron, Quentin Tarantino’s Jackie Brown, but weren’t his best work.

It was in 1999 that De Niro made a jump to comedy. Nobody thought of him associated with comedy, but Billy Crystal invited him to play a mobster in Analyze This, and De Niro’s career changed, not entirely for the better. In the Film Comment interview, De Niro says that he was always been comfortable with comedy–his first two films, Hi Mom! and Greetings were both comedies, but after Mean Streets and Taxi Driver, and then Raging Bull especially, branded him as an intense dramatic actor.

Analyze This was okay, and Meet the Parents was okay, but there is no reckoning for The Adventures of Rocky and Bullwinkle, Showtime with Eddie Murphy, or his latest outrage, Bad Grandpa.

Interspersed with those films has been good work in smaller films. David O. Russell seems to have made a mission of resurrecting De Niro’s good name with Silver Lining’s Playbook (his most recent Oscar nomination), American Hustle, and Joy. Other than those films, he has made an astounding 40 films this century, most of them forgettable. Will anybody remember The Intern? Hands of Stone? The Comedian? Killing Season? The Family? Being Flynn? De Niro seems to have succumbed to the inability to say no to any script that ends up in his in-box.

But De Niro, despite tarnishing his legacy with these films, is still one of America’s greatest actors. If he had stopped with, say, Wag the Dog, it would be almost unparalleled. He, along with Jack Nicholson, is the greatest American actor of the last quarter of the 20th century. His performances in Taxi Driver and Raging Bull will be remembered as long as we have movies. “You talkin’ to me?” (which he improvised) is one of the most iconic lines in film history.

What about De Niro made him so great? He’s hard to pinpoint. He’s a bit of a chameleon–his weight gain for Raging Bull is famous, he shaved his head into a mohawk for Taxi Driver, he seemed to look different in every film. He was not a matinée idol, but I’ve talked to women who find him very sexy. His rage and intensity are what he is best known for: the Russian roulette scene in The Deerhunter, his profane battles with Joe Pesci in Raging Bull, his baseball-bat wielding in The Untouchables, his psychopathy in Cape Fear (“Come out, come out, wherever you are”), his brutal stomping of a man in Goodfellas, but De Niro has also played roles that are quietly intense, such as Heat (I don’t believe he ever raises his voice in that role, he lets Pacino do the screaming), most of The Deerhunter, and young Vito in The Godfather, Part II, in which he builds his empire with little more than whispers.

It’s a shame that the phrase “a new Robert De Niro film” means almost nothing these days, compared to what it did forty years ago, but we’ve got the means to see this great stuff, anytime we want.

Please share your favorite De Niro role in the comments.

Opening in Las Vegas, May 12, 2017

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Two high profile films, both seem like critical and box office disappointments.

I have waited and waited for a good King Arthur movie. I suppose the best is John Boorman’s Excalibur (technically speaking, the best movie with King Arthur is Monty Python and the Holy Grail), but since then has been shit like First Knight and King Arthur, which supposes that he was a Russian. There’s great stories out there, but few directors want to stick with it and turn it something else. So does Guy Ritchie in King Arthur: Legend of the Sword (41), which looks like the first big bomb of the summer. During an interview Kenneth Lonergan said he wanted to make a film of T.H. White’s The Once and Future King. Someone, please greenlight that.

Amy Schumer’s star is still on the rise, but her latest film, Snatched (46), could slow her down. Trainwreck was okay, but lacked the cuttinge edge of her TV show and stand-up act. It’s nice that she wanted to give Goldie Hawn a role, but the film isn’t impressing many.

Also this week is The Wall (57), a war film about two soldiers pinned down by Iraqi snipers. Stars Aaron-Taylor Johnson and directed by Doug Liman. Seems like a rental.

Review: Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol. 2

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I had a great time at Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol. 2. Sure, it’s not as fresh and original as the first film, but the formula–wisecracking heroes, a soundtrack of ’70s hits, and this time a baby tree–works like magic.

Second films sometimes work better because there is no origin story. The film opens with the Guardians, sort of heroes for hire, battling a large monster. This serves as the credits scene, and the battle is secondary to Baby Groot dancing to ELO’s “Mr. Blue Sky.” Baby Groot (if you don’t remember, Groot was killed in the first film but regrown in a pot) is for the kids in the audience. Adults will probably say they find him tiresome, but will probably be lying.

The Guardians go to get their pay from The Sovereigns, a people who have evolved into near perfection. Their queen (Elizabeth Debicki) looks like Charlize Theron after a bronzing. All looks good but Rocket Raccoon (voiced by Bradley Cooper) steals the batteries they were sent to rescue. The Sovereigns don’t like this and send a fleet of ships after them.

The plot only gets more complicated after that, but suffice it to say that Peter Quill (Chris Pratt) meets his biological father, Kurt Russell, who takes human form but is really a planet called Ego. Russell takes him to his world, which is a paradise. But we’ve seen enough of these movies to know that paradises never are what they seem.

Also involved is Michael Rooker as Pratt’s surrogate father, who is a Ravager, or a kind of scavenger/thief. He has been ousted by the greater group of Ravagers, led by Sylvester Stallone, of all people, for breaking the Ravager code. A post-credit sequence (one of five) indicates that Stallone will be back in a far greater role.

But the plot is secondary to the sheer fun of this film. While Baby Groot gets a lot “aws” and laughs (Rooker and Cooper try to get him to steal something, with hilariously futile attempts), I think Dave Bautista as Drax, the musclebound but slightly obtuse member, steals the show. He gets a lot of great lines. There is also the “unspoken” romance between Pratt and Zoe Saldana as Gamora. Pratt gets meta when he compares their relationship to Sam and Diane in Cheers. He might have used the relationship in Moonlighting, but remember that that show went straight downhill after Cybill Shepherd and Bruce Willis finally did it.

And of course there’s the soundtrack. In addition to “Mr. Blue Sky,” the moldy oldie “Brandy,” a one-hit wonder by Looking Glass, plays an actual part of the plot (Russell calls it the greatest composition in the history of music). and I never thought I’d see an action scene set to Glen Campbell’s “Southern Nights.”

If this film isn’t as good as the first one, I reply with a hearty, “So what?” It’s still better than almost any of the DC films. I think there’s one more movie in this franchise before it’s done, maybe two.

Opening in Las Vegas, May 5, 2017

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The only megaplex opening this weekend is Guardians of the Galaxy, Volume 2, (67), which is critic proof. Most seem to say it’s got the same stuff as the first film, but just not as original (well, duh). I’ll be there opening week, as I am part fanboy (but not all). Love the use of Sweet’s “Fox on the Run” in the trailer.

The only other film opening this weekend in Vegas is The Dinner (58), starring Steve Coogan. No, it’s not one of those films with Rob Bryden where they do impressions of Michael Caine, it’s a drama with Richard Gere and Laura Linney. I like Coogan immensely, but seeing him do an American accent in a dramatic film just takes everything I like about him away.

Review: The Circle

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I haven’t read Dave Eggers’ book, The Circle, but I’m guessing it’s a satire. If it’s anything like the script of the film adaptation, by James Ponsoldt, it would have to be, or otherwise it should have never been published. The problem is, Ponsoldt’s should have been satire. It is not.

The Circle is supposed to be some kind of warning about how social media is removing our privacy, and I must admit it worked a little bit–I wondered if I should just get off Facebook on the drive home, but I didn’t. Certainly there are privacy issues today. Most everything is on camera, and our information is bought and sold like Pokemon cards. But this film is so simplistic it plays like Paranoia for Dummies.

Emma Watson plays a cubicle drone (the first indication this film is wrong is that she works taking phone calls at the water company but doesn’t have a headset, she uses an actual phone) who through her friend gets an interview at The Circle, which is like Facebook, Google, etc. In her interview she’s asked “Joan Baez or Joan Crawford” and snaps back, “Joan Didion.” (This is what passes for intellectual banter, I guess). She gets the book and works in “Customer Experience.” The campus is like a huge playground, with yoga classes and volleyball courts–it’s a nice send-up of those big Silicon Valley companies (and reminds me of the job Homer Simpson gets that turns out to be with a James Bond villain).

This is all funny but then we are expected to think that there’s a total buy-in at the company. Watson takes the weekend to go kayaking alone in San Francisco Bay and goes to party at her parents’ house (her dad is Bill Paxton, his last role). She’s gently admonished that she didn’t attend any events at The Circle. She is encouraged to be part of a community, and doing things alone seems to be frowned upon. I’ve worked at companies like these, when everybody knows no one wants to have anything to do with work after quitting time except administration. It’s an introvert’s nightmare.

The CEO of The Circle is a Jobsian figure played by Tom Hanks, who thinks knowing everything is the ideal. He’s Big Brother in blue jeans, and his second-in-command is Patton Oswalt, who wears a suit but has the same idea. They want to have all information stored in the same place–The Circle–and the employees clap like seals at the notion.

After Watson has a kayaking accident but is saved by the use of drones, she is recruited to have her life put on display, wearing a camera and putting cameras in her residence (she seems to live on campus). So she is basically a willing Truman Show volunteer, and the whole film falls apart. We are led to believe Watson’s character is intelligent, but she suggests that voting be made mandatory and that people register and vote via The Circle, like a good little fascist. It’s only a tragedy that wakes her up, and we really don’t see the transformation.

The Circle would have been much better if it followed one of two directions–make it so over the top that it’s satire, or make it much more morally slippery, and seduce the audience like Watson is seduced. Instead, her character is made completely stupid while Hanks and Oswalt are obvious villains. The movie is a bowl of mush.

Review: The Lost City of Z

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I wanted to see The Lost City of Z for two reasons: I love stories about explorers going into uncharted lands, and I read the book. The film, written and directed by James Gray from David Grann’s book, is a solid effort, but it’s like a dish that smells good but is missing an ingredient.

There had long been a legend among European explorers of South America about El Dorado, the city of gold. It was pretty much a fairy tale by the twentieth century, but a British officer, Percy Fawcett, hired by the Royal Geographical Society to settle a border dispute between Bolivia and Brazil, came to believe that somewhere deep in the jungle there was a lost civilization, which he called Z (Zed in the British). Over the course of three expeditions, he pushed farther into the Amazon, but never found it.

Gray is dutiful to the facts of the book, though Fawcett, played by Charlie Hunnam, really isn’t a character as much as a means to an end. Grann’s book spelled out more of his eccentricities, but here he’s just a guy on a mission. The only really interesting character is James Murray (Angus Macfadyen), a polar explorer who believes in Fawcett and joins him on his second mission, but does not fare well.

On Fawcett’s third expedition, over a decade after his previous one, his son (Tom Holland) joins him on the search for the lost civilization, but they disappeared and were never found.

All of this is what might be called a pretty good yarn, with indigenous people throwing spears and dangerous rivers and snakes and infected wounds (the book is full of descriptions of things that can kill you or make your life miserable) but there is a sense of incompleteneness, probably because Fawcett did not succeed and Gray can only guess at what happened to him (it’s one of the reasons I had a problem with Zodiac–a movie that doesn’t catch the killer is missing an ending). He was ahead of his time in believing that the so-called savages of Amazonia were not backward and capable of a civilization, and believe that women (including his wife, ably played by Sienna Miller) were intellectual equals.

The movie is more interesting than entertaining, and probably would have been served better as a Ken Burns-style documentary. In the book, Grann writes participatory journalism, as he covers some of the ground that Fawcett did, but this is completely cut from the film.

So, a near-miss for James Gray, who finally made a movie set outside New York. Maybe he was a little out of his depth.

Opening in Las Vegas, April 7, 2017

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Crap at the multiplexes, but in the art houses some interesting stuff. It can’t be a bad week when a new Werner Herzog movie comes out.

That film is Queen of the Desert (39), which unfortunately is getting bad reviews. It stars Nicole Kidman as Gertrude Bell, who was the female Lawrence of Arabia. Herzog has been mostly in the documentary field for quite a few years, and may have lost his touch on narrative filmmaking, but I would like to see this, perhaps on DVD.

The other interesting film that I would like to see someday is Your Name (79), an anime feature that has two high schoolers exchanging bodies. It’s not a Studio Ghibli film, but was a huge hit in Japan, becoming the fourth-highest grossing film in that country’s history.

Now for the crap. Of all the movies to remake, why Going in Style, a 1979 film starring George Burns. I suppose every thirty or forty years this film will be remade with a trio of codgers. This version (50) stars Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman, and Alan Arkin, directed by Zach Braff. It seems to have standard old people humor, like the hilarity of an elderly person trying pot.

And for the kids and the parents who must suffer for them, there’s Smurfs: The Lost Village (40). Nothing more needs to be said.

Review: Personal Shopper

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For his last film, Clouds of Sils Maria, Olivier Assayas cast Kristen Stewart as a personal assistant, and at the time I wrote about what a strange job that must be. Essentially, you’re an extension of someone, but you do the less glamorous things. You’re around someone rich and glamorous, but only get to orbit in their world, not take part in it.

In his follow-up film, the even better Personal Shopper, he again has Stewart in a job that destroys the identity, that of the title. She is a moorless American living in Paris and working for a socialite, going to fancy stores and picking clothing and accessories for her. It’s not a hard job, but it certainly isn’t rewarding in a sense of personal satisfaction.

The film is also a ghost story. Stewart had a twin brother who died of a congenital heart defect, one that she shares but is under close supervision for. Before her sister-in-law sells the house, Stewart attempts to see, or feel, if her brother is still there.

This makes for some creepy viewing, as Stewart seems to attract ghosts wherever she goes. She also gets involved in a murder (I won’t say of who) and a mysterious person who texts her as she goes to London and back. This scene is both fraught with suspense and a gamble–in this day and age, texts are a common form of communication, but if you would told me watching someone text for ten minutes would be exciting I would have been dubious.

Stewart is Assayas’ muse. You get the feeling he wrote the film for her. She is a big star, and did the star routine backwards–she started with the mega-hit and then went to independent films. She has made many small and interesting films, and the more I see of her the more I realize how talented she is. If you judge her talent by the Twilight films you’re making a mistake, even though she does seem to take roles that are sullen and emotionally locked people. But in Personal Shopper Assayas brings more out of her than any director I’ve seen. She is a sad person, yes. Maybe she should do a screwball comedy.

As with all of Assayas’ films (and I’ve seen seven of them, I think) they are not always easily deciphered. In Clouds of Sils Maria Stewart’s character disappears and is not seen again with no explanation. In Personal Shopper, there is a scene late in the film when she meets someone in a hotel. We don’t know what happens, though it would seem to be a key scene. It’s almost like someone cut the scene out and forgot to put it back in. You never leave an Assayas film with all the answers.

Personal Shopper, I think, is ultimately about identity. A twin has lost her other half, and is the eyes of another person though she can never wear her clothes (or her skin). She frequently says she wants to be someone else, and there is an electrifying though quiet moment when she tries on her boss’s clothes (which is forbidden, which makes it even more exciting for her). Does she envy her boss being rich and famous? Not really, I think she just envies that she is someone else.

 

Opening in Las Vegas, March 31, 2017

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Interesting mix of movies this weekend.

The likely box office champ, if it can knock off Beauty and the Beast, is Ghost in the Shell (53), based on a popular manga (I’ve never read a manga in my life) starring Scarlett Johansson in a tight body suit. There’s flak that the part is not played by an Asian actress. Getting lackluster reviews. I’m on the fence about seeing it in a theater, but seeing Scarlett kick butt in spandex is good for a rental.

The other major release this week is Baby Boss (50), with the voice of Alec Baldwin as an infant born that can talk and hold meetings. Sounds like a cute idea for a short, but I would be loathe to see a feature-length film of this. I believe Baldwin does get a chance to say “Always be closing.”

In the art houses are a couple of worthy films. Personal Shopper (77) is the latest from the intriguing if enigmatic Oliver Assayas, and stars Kristen Stewart. For fun, check out the comments on the review in the New York Times, and see the extremes on Stewart–some proclaim her the worst actress in the world, others the greatest. I still haven’t made up my mind. They used to say to judge an actor watch them all play Hamlet, I suppose for women it would be Cleopatra or Lady Macbeth.

Also out this weekend is one of the nominees for the Foreign Language Oscar, Land of Mine (75), a Danish World War II film. It’s about German POWs sent to Denmark to clear land mines, so the title is apparently a pun, but maybe that’s just the English title. Getting a job clearing land mines can not be a good thing.

Review: Get Out

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On the surface, Get Out is a basic horror film, largely structured around The Stepford Wives (the original, not the horrible remake). If every character had been white, or race had not been commented on, it would have been a solid thriller. But write and director Jordan Peele added another level, which makes Get Out a great conversation piece. It’s a metaphor for our so-called post-racial society.

Peele is one half of Key & Peele, the great comedy duo, and I’ve seen this film described as a comedy, but I wasn’t doing a lot of laughing, as it’s as creepy as hell. I don’t want to give too much away, as I had no idea what was coming, but a young black man (Daniel Kaluuya) is visiting his white girlfriend’s (Allison Williams) family for the first time. He’s worried, of course, as he’s from the city and the parents are both doctors and live in the leafy suburbs. Williams assures him they are not racist.

When he gets there, though, something is odd. They treat him politely, almost too much so. And what’s with the servants, two black people who act as if they are lobotomized? It becomes even more odd when a party is thrown, and all the white guests patronize him, like making sure they let him know that they know Tiger Woods or asking him about the “American black experience.” When the one black guest, who also seems somewhat vacant, has a moment of lucidity, he tells Kaluuya to “Get out!”

What we have is a genuinely scary horror film combined with a racial commentary. This is nothing new–over forty years there was Blacula–but Peele makes some interesting commentaries on the persistence of black stereotypes–one woman at the party feels his bicep, as if he were on a slave auction block. The home of Williams’ parents (played eerily by Bradley Whitford and Catherine Keener) has an almost plantation vibe, though you can’t quite put your finger on why.

Peele show great promise as a filmmaker. The direction is basic, as he doesn’t employ too many tricks and lets the story breathe.  Sometimes the foreshadowing is a bit oversold–early in the film Williams and Kaluuya hit a deer on the road. Later we see a closeup of a deer’s head trophy on the wall. It’s not hard to figure out what will happen to that trophy.

Opening in Las Vegas, March 24, 2017

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Looks like an exceptionally crappy weekend for new releases.

The most high-profile is Power Rangers (44). Do kids even know Power Rangers anymore? When they were around I was too old for them, so will today’s adults drag their kids on a nostaglia trip. Supposed to be bad, anyway. At least they have a gay character, which is progress considering an actor on the TV show was fired for being gay.

Another odd bit of nostalgia is Chips, (29) a TV show that no one I knew watched. Apparently the small group of die-hard fans are even angry at this film, which somehow misrepresents the integrity of the show or some such nonsense. Is Dax Shepard in anything good?

Life (55), not named for the game or the cereal, is about a space mission that finds life but it turns oh so wrong. Sounds like an Alien rip-off. With Jake Gyllenhaal and Ryan Reynolds. Note in the trailer that it looks the black guy is the one who gets attacked first. Nice to see racist tropes are still alive.

Woody Harrelson plays a lovable misanthrope in Wilson (50). There was another film called Wilson, back in 1944, about Woodrow Wilson. And Harrelson’s first name is Woodrow. Coincidence?

Finally, and appropriately, is The Last Word (40), about Shirley Maclaine trying to craft her own obituary, and hires Amanda Seyfried to write it. Of course they bond after initially hating each other. So original.