Arkansas-born filmmaker Jeff Nichols has a way of channeling a certain kind of Americana onto the screen that few of his contemporaries are able to capture. There’s a very particular kind of grit and masculinity that defines a Nichol’s feature, with characters experiencing gnawing heartache and an often overbearing patriarchal sense of responsibility, despite often being on the fringes of society, manic or mad to many outsiders looking in. This is as true in Take Shelter and Mud—both about ‘crazed’ outsiders—as it is in Loving and Midnight Special, the former depicting Richard and Mildred Loving’s arrest for their interracial marriage in 1960s Virginia, and the latter a sci-fi drama about a father protecting his ‘powered’ son at all costs. Read More
‘CHALLENGERS’ Volleys Passion and Obsession in Steamy Love Triangle
“You think you know what tennis is about but you don’t,” Zendaya’s tennis wunderkind Tashi Duncan scolds best friends Art and Patrick. Tennis, she says, is about a relationship. The beauty of the sport isn’t its winning – despite that being the thing that separates champions from wash-outs – it’s about the magic of two people hitting a ball with a racket in complete synchronicity. There the rest of the world falls away, leaving behind a chorus of grunts and pools of sweat, and physical artistry. So too is Challengers about tennis and a relationship. Though the relationship at the center of Luca Guadagnino’s steamy sports drama is neither a traditional doubles or singles match, as the two young men, bunkmates-turned-teammates-turned-rivals, find themselves sparring for the affections of one woman in an awkward, decades-spanning love triangle. Read More
Spielberg’s ‘WEST SIDE STORY’ Remake A Handsome, Emotionally Flat Spectacle
Handsomely made but emotionally flat, West Side Story as told by blockbusting king of the box office Steven Spielberg plays like a slick, overproduced cover album. The songs are all there but they’ve been blown out to oblivion by overproduction, chasing technical mastery but never stopping to consider the why of it all. Like when a favorite band finally hits it big and subsequently loses the very sound that made them unique and your favorite band in the first place. There are no imperfections and, in effect, no spark. One would sound silly calling it “selling out” but there’s a similarly disappointing energy that washes over the viewer expecting a vibrant new take on timeless material only to rub up against a flashy reskin of a classic, sans any discernible new perspective. Read More