Disc Reviews

“Not to me. Just … unheard. Unseen. A respectable person, disrespected in a place where murder is easy.”

I would say that this was a pretty faithful adaptation of the popular Agatha Christie novel, albeit with a few instances of poetic license being taken. And I do mean that this novel is popular. This addition marks the sixth adaptation of this novel, with the previous incarnations being for film, theater, radio, and television, with the previous TV version being adapted for a Miss Marple episode which famously featured Benedict Cumberbatch. This two-episode version features David Jonsson of Alien: Romulus and The Long Walk fame, Morfydd Clark of Rings of Power fame, and Dame Penelope Wilton. And while the series does exercise that poetic license, these changes actually add a degree of depth to the overall adaptation in my opinion. Such as the reinvention of Jonsson’s Fitzwilliam as a Nigerian attaché arriving in 1954 Britain. When done right, these deviations from the source material can act as a fresh commentary on a beloved piece of fiction.

"Julian Sklar here. Your mother would like me to tell you not to quit art school. Seriously, do. Those clowns at Camberwell will poison you with their Sainsbury's aisles and ideas, processed, packed in plastic. The stalest up front so that you buy into those first. Grow your own, I say. Go organic! Although I hear that's all rubbish, too. Do you know how much plastic we eat in a week? A credit card's worth. It's in the water now. It's hopeless. So, happy birthday, stay in school, blah, blah, blah."

Ian McKellen stars as elder artist Julian Sklar.  He's old and not expected to be alive for long. That's at least how his two children feel about it. Sallie (Gunning) and Barnaby (Corden) hire an art restoration artist that Sallie once went to school with. Lori Butler is played by Michaela Coel. What they want from her isn't a simple restoration. She has a bit of a grudge against Sklar, and they try to use it to their advantage.

"I was walking under the overpass as primly dressed secretaries and weary window washers march onwards and upwards to start their days. The cold winter wind whipped in my face, and a card caught my eye. I flipped it over to find joker. Joker, joker, joker. All things in life are rarely here to stay. The good and the bad. So worry not, me. I smile at the cards I'm dealt. Just like the snow, it shall melt. What are you hearing, Indianapolis? It is Tuesday, February 8th. The time is 8:45 and 55 seconds. I'm DJ Fred Temple. And this is Deodato."

That's an important date and time both for our movie and in history. It was on that date that a frustrated man named Tony Kiritsis took a man  and both kidnapped and held him hostage for days with a shotgun wired to his head, the titular dead man's wire. The story has been told both in a memoir written by the man held hostage and a 2018 documentary. But this is a story we've seen before in cinema, from Denzel Washington's desperate father in John Q. to the mad-as-hell-and-he's-not-going-to-take-it-anymore frustrated news anchor in Network. But Gus Van Sant's Dead Man's Wire offers more of a callback to Dog Day Afternoon than anything like those other films.

"So come up to the lab and see what's on the slab."

It was 1975. Teamsters President Jimmy Hoffa goes missing. South Vietnam falls. The Superdome opens in New Orleans. Elizabeth Seton becomes the first American saint. Patty Hearst ends her fugitive run. George Carlin hosts the first episode of Saturday Night Live. Phil Collins replaces Peter Gabriel as the lead in Genesis. And The Rocky Horror Picture Show opens to absolutely terrible box office numbers. Under normal circumstances the Rocky Horror story should have ended there. Thirty-five years later, it should have been just one of thousands of films that came and went with hardly a whimper or notice. Today, that most assuredly would have been the case. But things were just a little bit different in 1975. When a film finished its first run, there were plenty of theaters that ran dollar matinees and midnight showings of these movies. There wasn't a home-video industry at the time. The next step for these films, particularly the big losers, was a run in these "second run" venues where the studios provided them inexpensively in an attempt to recoup some of their money. It was no different for Rocky Horror.

"This is your captain speaking ... Prepare for impact."

It's been 50 years since Steven Spielberg made his bones on a hot summer movie called Jaws. Based on a Peter Benchley bestseller, the film made millions of people all over the world think twice before dipping their toes into the wild environment of their local beach. We all think about it. We go anyway, but Spielberg made us think about it for the rest of our lives. The trend spawned a flurry of 1970's nature-attacks films from bees to grizzly bears. When cable came about, we got Shark Week every year for decades. There's just something about that 1975 film that continues to impact our entertainment. Now we have the "shark" movie as a genre, and for all of those 50 years everyone has been chasing that one movie's atmosphere and excitement. It should be rather easy when you think about it. Spielberg bit off more than he could chew by taking on the film.

"We try to walk that line between high-tech thriller and workplace comedy."

It all started so long ago that many of you reading this were likely not even a thought in your parents' brain. JAG appeared way back in 1995. It was created by Donald P. Bellisario, and it took us behind the scenes of the United States Navy's prosecution of crimes under their military jurisdiction according to the Navy's Service Code. The series lasted 10 years, and toward the end of that run a new character was introduced. He was Leroy Gibbs, played by Mark Harmon. The episode served as a backdoor pilot for a new franchise called NCIS. You could say that NCIS is the Order to JAG’s Law. The NCIS is a real government agency that deals with criminal activity inside or involving the US Navy or Marine Corps, but now for the investigation and catching of the bad guys. The show has proven even more popular than its parent series.

Been seeing a lot of Josh O’Connor lately, and I’m glad to see it. Prior to his performance in Challengers, I had only a mild awareness of him, but since then, it’s been impossible to escape his presence. Speaking of presence, I feel like O’Connor brings something different with every role. In the case of The Mastermind, O’Connor deadpans comedic irony, quiet domestic desperation, and a deeply flawed, delusional masculinity. Given how the situation works out for his character, the title is more than a bit ironic. I’d go so far as to consider this an anti-heist movie if it weren’t for the fact that bumbling thieves managed to accomplish the task. The heart of the film resides in the aftermath of the heist and the hijinks that transpire. Rounding out of the cast were Hope Davis, Bill Camp, Alana Haim (One Battle After Another), and John Magaro (The Bride!). The film is a bit of a slow burn, but the character performances are the driving force of the film, as the plots debunks the idea of a smooth-talking American criminal in favor of an everyman, or better yet, an amateur trying to head up an art theft.

Set in a sedate Massachusetts suburb in 1970, the film follows O’Connor’s James Blaine “J.B.” Mooney, an unemployed family man and failed architect who concocts a plan to rob a local art museum. Alongside a couple of amateur accomplices, he manages to successfully steal four Arthur Dove paintings. Rather than lingering on the suspense of the theft, film director Kelly Reichardt sped through the heist itself and focused primarily on the fallout. As previously mentioned, the ironic title becomes clear as J.B. proves to be anything but a mastermind; he is an inept, privileged oaf who spends his time floundering on the run, hiding canvases in barns, and testing the patience of those around him.