FEAR OF A BLACK PLANET: a review of "One Battle After Another"

 

"ONE BATTLE AFTER ANOTHER"
Inspired by Vineland by Thomas Pynchon
Written and Directed by Paul Thomas Anderson
**** (four stars)
RATED R
Running Time: 2 hrs 42 min

PTA...welcome back!!!

I was ready to throw in the towel regarding Writer/Director Paul Thomas Anderson. Now, do not get me wrong. I have used Savage Cinema for much of its existence to extol my deep praise for Anderson as a filmmaker. As being one of the few current Directors--among the likes of Christopher Nolan, Quentin Tarantino, Jordan Peele, Wes Anderson and quite possibly, Greta Gerwig--who can open a film and generate passionate interest solely upon his name and filmography, ever new release is a veritable event. That being said, my reactions towards his films as of late have produced diminishing results with me.

Beginning with "The Master" (2012), and even with "Phantom Thread" (2017), which I admired but was also confounded by due to their oddly emotional starkness and inscrutable presentation, I have felt that Paul Thomas Anderson's storytelling approach has taken on a increasingly akin to Stanley Kubrick's, a colder, more cerebral, somewhat detached emotional core, a more bird's eye view of the subject matter rather than the often intensely heart pounding propulsiveness as displayed in Anderson's earlier films like the extraordinary "Boogie Nights" (1997) and the roaring steamroller of "Magnolia" (1999). 

With "Inherent Vice" (2014) and what I feel to be his weakest effort by a wide margin in "Licorice Pizza" (2021), Anderson created visually elegant, top tier appearing films which all received various levels of rapturous critical praise yet all landed poorly with me. Perhaps, Paul Thomas Anderson was not making films for me anymore. Perhaps his aesthetic was no longer within my sense and sensibilities. Perhaps...possibly...Anderson was falling in love with his own legend and praise to an extent. Whatever the reasons, and especially after "Licorice Pizza," I found myself feeling unhurried to engage with a new feature from him. Not exactly giving up but not remotely excited either. 

Until now...

Paul Thomas Anderson's "One Battle After Another," his 10th film, is a superior return to form for me. In a career in which I feel that Anderson has already created three masterpieces, in the aforementioned "Boogie Nights", "Magnolia" and unquestionably, the towering "There Will Be Blood" (2007), he has now created his fourth. It is an experience that speaks with piercing directness to our nation's past and present while providing dire warnings about our future as it simultaneously ensures that we receive a cinematic experience that is profoundly involving, deeply engaging, shockingly visceral and startling satirical. To that end, it is also a movie about our relationship with the movies as Anderson has weaved an undeniably a classic widescreen 70MM Dolby motion picture event, which for me now exists as his most adrenalized and entertaining film since "Boogie Nights."  Furthermore, and directly alongside Ryan Coogler's masterful, untouchable "Sinners" (2025), Anderson has delivered one of the pinnacle films of not only 2025, he has delivered one of the finest films of the 21st century. 

Opening at the Otay Mesa Detention Center in quite possibly in the year 2009, Paul Thomas Anderson's "One Battle After Another," introduces us to the French 75, a far left revolutionary group featuring the efforts of explosives expert "Ghetto Pat" (Leonardo DiCaprio) and his lover, the voracious, unrepentant Perfidia Beverly Hills (a volcanic Teyana Taylor). 

The group quickly runs afoul of the detention center's commanding officer Steven J. Lockjaw (Sean Penn), who grows rapaciously obsessed with Perfidia, leading to a series of betrayals, a hunting down of the members of the French 75 and the abandonment of Perfidia, who leaves Pat and their infant daughter, Charlene behind, forcing the two to go into hiding under new identities. 

Sixteen years later, bringing us up to the present day, Pat and teenager Charlene (Chase Infiniti), now known as Bob and Willa Ferguson, are living off the grid in the sanctuary city of Baktan Cross, California. Where Willa is fiercely independent, Bob, despite being a devoted Father and protective, has become lost in substance abuse and paranoia. Meanwhile, due to his anti-immigration efforts, Lockjaw has become a Colonel within the U.S. security agencies and he further wishes to advance his standing by becoming a member of the White supremacist secret society known as the Christmas Adventurers, an initiation that hinges upon his past with Perfidia, whom he remains obsessed with.

From here, under the pretense of controlling illegal immigration efforts, Lockjaw targets Baktan Cross as his relentless pursuit of Bob and Willa hungrily continues.

Paul Thomas Anderson's "One Battle After Another" speaks to our present moment in history with such clarity and severe urgency, it feels as if the film was made just five minutes before I entered the theater to screen it. It's all here and then some. The demonization of immigrants. The targeting of and trauma plus survival within the Hispanic community. Clashes between protestors and the military under politically fabricated and racially driven community crises. The aforementioned Christian nationalist White supremacist secret societies at work. 

That being said, and due to his collaborative efforts with Cinematographer Michael Bauman and the insistent, percussive piano based score from Composer Johnny Greenwood, the film exists in a sort of hallucinatory, David Lynch-ian "What year is this?" time warp, where the experience carries the tonality and aesthetic of a 1970's conspiracy thriller. And even further, the film contains a simple, pulpy storytelling thread not unlike Quentin Tarantino's "Kill Bill" (2003/2004), "Inglourious Basterds" (2009) and "Django Unchained" (2012), which allows the modern day narrative to also function as a political satire, an espionage caper, an urban Western a la the films of Walter Hill, a white knuckle action film, and a heartfelt love story between a Father and daughter. All of these elements fuel Anderson's dissertation of what it means to live in 21st century America, and I think most specifically, it is an examination of the increasing fear of White male impotence in a growing multi-cultural world. 

But, I am getting a little ahead of myself... 

There is absolutely no way to regard "One Battle After Another" without taking proper stock of the film's clear social, political and racial overtones and subtexts. What remains provocatively unclear are the motivations of Paul Thomas Anderson on a precise level, which makes this film open for much needed conversations and debates as there are no easy answers and Anderson is clearly not trying to instruct the audience as how to intake this material. In doing so, Anderson is continuing the utilize the cerebral Stanley Kubrick side of his cinematic personality by delivering a certain detached bird's eye view of the proceedings, giving the film an askew perception while being present and prescient a la "Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Bomb" (1964).  

Yes, Anderson visualizes a world where Black and Brown communities are under siege, traumatized, victimized yet pragmatic and unyielding and an unwillingness to capitulate to the larger White societal power structure who wishes for us to not exist. That being said, there has been much controversy-especially from Black journalists, critics and viewers, surrounding the depiction of Perfidia, a Black woman who is often viewed through a hyper sexualized lens, and since Anderson is the Director, a White male's gaze. 

Speaking solely for myself, and openly to you readers out there as a Black man, I profoundly understand the criticism yet I do not align myself with it. In fact, to illustrate the point I am about to present, I turn to a quotation from a 1962 speech from Malcolm X in which he proclaimed, "The most disrespected person in America is the Black woman. The most unprotected person in America is the Black woman. The neglected person in America is the Black Woman." 

I turn to another as expressed by activist, author and philosopher Angela Davis when she said, "I am no longer accepting the things I cannot change. I am changing the things I cannot accept." 

Furthermore, it felt oddly fitting that on the day before I saw this film, coincidentally, revolutionary, civil rights activist, member of the Black Panther Party and Black Liberation Army and fugitive Assata Shakur died in Cuba, where she had resided after being given political asylum after her 1979 escape from a U.S. prison where she had been serving a life sentence for the killing of a police officer.   

For me, the entire soul of the film rests within the actions and arcs of three Black women: Perfidia Beverly Hills, Willa and French 75 member Deandra a.k.a. "Lady Champagne" (played by Regina Hall), as they are figures attempting to navigate a violently unforgiving world on whatever terms they feel fit as well as carry the burden of the continued existence of a society that may not want to be saved in the first place. 

As for Perfidia in particular, it is especially precarious because she feels to be simultaneously filtered through a certain reality, hyper reality as well as cinematically, a la how Black women were depicted in 1970's Blaxploitation films starring Pam Grier and the White male's gaze, in this case, Paul Thomas Anderson's. That being said, Anderson is a filmmaker who makes movies about movies as much as the subject matter he is tackling, which may have led to some aspects of his storytelling and directorial choices, which do indeed blur the lines between a very real world, Black feminist, revolutionary agenda and film fantasy...or more pointedly, a White male fantasy. And in doing so, I wonder if those blurred lines are intentional.

Again for me, Perfidia Beverly Hills as fueled by the hurricane force winds of Teyana Taylor's performance is truly the boiling engine of the film for the first 30 minutes or so, and she hangs and hovers over every minute afterwards as the consequences of her actions endlessly reverberate. I found her to being such a deeply complex character that even after viewing the film twice, I remain a little unsure of her every motivation or if it is single minded all of the time. For all of her reckless rapaciousness, relentless passion, bottomless rage plus her ravenous sexual appetites, I am still not certain that she necessarily cares terribly much about the French 75 at all or even the revolutionary agenda of the group in the first place. Additionally, she clearly does not hold much passion for Ghetto Pat or their child due to the whiplash self preservation of her choices. 

And then, there are her confrontations with Steven J. Lockjaw, moments that have been given considerable criticism. To that, I offer this: Who is holding power in their scenes together? Who possesses any sense of an upper hand? Who exhibits strength and who exhibits weakness? And as for the sexual fetishization of this particular Black woman, is she being used or is she knowingly exploiting his proclivities for her own personal agenda? 

For me, Perfidia Beverly Hills is far beyond caricature. She is a narcissist, certainly. She is the definition of an anarchist, a human hand grenade against all perceived societal norms, be it political, sexual, personal and entirely for her own self preservation consequences be damned, for she will move, live and exit this world on her own terms. And maybe for Perfidia, as painfully unsettling as she is, this is her race for any sense of freedom she can attempt to possess in this world and as evidenced in the sequences where she is ferociously pounding the pavement, she is trying to outrun everything from the government to the thoughts inside of her head. For if she stops moving, she is done for. 

With all of this in mind, I do not feel that the tenor of "One Battle After Another" is to promote any sense of racist agendas, intentionally or no. In fact, what I think is honestly on Anderson's mind is exploring the anxiety and impotence of White men in the 21st century regarding their sense of relevance and purpose, especially as the racial make up in global demographics is rapidly changing towards people of color rather than Whites. While I do not wish to deeply imprint anything about Anderson's personal life into the proceedings of the film, I also cannot help to wonder if something has filtered in as he is married to Maya Rudolph and with whom they are parents to four biracial children. 

Any possible blind spots or fears Anderson may or may not harbor regarding race could be seen as being represented by the characters portrayed by Leonardo DiCaprio and Sean Penn plus essentially all of the major White characters in this film in which there are deliberately no White savior characters.

As far as Ghetto Pat/Bob is concerned, there is no question that he is a devoted Father to Charlene/Willa as he has loved her from the start, has never abandoned her, he even attends her Parent/Teacher conferences (!!) and has protected her as best as he has been able despite his dilapidated, brain addled state after decades of narcotic fueled intoxication. Once the threat to their lives becomes a stark reality, leading the two to become separated with Father on the search to save his daughter. 

With this portrayal, Leonardo DiCaprio, again one of our most committed actors, immerses himself completely delivering a performance that is by turns frustrating, feverish, comical, passionate, and frantically skittish, often upending the cinematic archetype of what a White male hero is, should be or could be. Bob literally flails his way through the course of the film, constantly failing himself at the expense of rescuing his daughter. He is unable to charge his cell phone or remember any of the old secret passwords and phrases from the French 75 as they are mentally melted away from his drug usage. He possesses no real skills or talents save for his love and determination but regardless of his Whiteness and maleness and the relative power those characteristics possess in the world, he may still be unable to save the one he loves most.   

This aspect is no more apparent then when he enlists the aid of Willa's karate instructor and Baktan Cross community leader Sensei Sergio St. Carlos (a terrific Benicio Del Toro). Where Bob is panicked, Sergio is the epitome of measured calm and serenity, even under the greatest of pressures as Lockjaw's fraudulent raids inspires Sergio to activate his own "underground railroad" system to protect his community. 

"Don't get selfish," he exclaims to Bob, a crucial statement as in that one line, Bob's rightful urgency and trauma cannot overtake the urgency and trauma of an entire community historically under siege. Further, Sergio takes the time to introduce Bob to his community name by name, another instance demonstrating not only Sergio's sense of empathy but of his sense of purpose, responsibility and even education of Bob. To respect the humanity of those other than himself. To respect the lifelong trials of those other than himself. To understand that he is indeed a piece of a larger global community existing symbiotically with each other (I think brilliantly illustrated in a key scene by a lone Indigenous bounty hunter faced with making a decision of clear moral imparity). To understand that while his own situation is in crisis, his Whiteness will not make him the center of every crisis, especially those which have never touched him personally.

Ghetto Pat/Bob Ferguson is a stand in for the essential liberal White male, yet in his own drug fueled brain fog state of mind, it is as if he-like some White liberals in 2025-is at long last waking up and viewing the world anew, realizing the futility of his place within it regarding the one he loves most. Despite his efforts, realistically, he can't save his daughter, Willa. Even in the film's astounding climax, a rampaging car chase through the barren desert landscape save for a cascading river of hills, Bob is always just this far out of reach. For in this world where disenfranchised communities and people, especially Black women, are disrespected, degraded, disregarded and ultimately discarded, Willa is forced to save herself. It is her imperative and her birthright, for she, and all Black women are not going backwards. Like the song says, Willa is the "American Girl," regardless of how many White men aim for it to not be so 

As Steven J. Lockjaw, Sean Penn operates at his most psychotic. It has truly been ages since I have witnessed him in a film, expressing such a feverishly magnetic command that it reminded me of the work I loved from him when I was a teenager during Penn's rise. 

Lockjaw is a vulgar nightmare--yet all to true--representation of the White male in a sense of existential crisis as to his perceived place in the world and the overall Caste system placing him above all others. It is a darkly comic performance while also being terrifying in its brutality for his rampant cruelty and violence against a world becoming Browner and more multi-cultural exudes from the clear masquerade he is enacting largely against himself as he is desperate to be included into a club which would no sooner discard him due to his hidden desires, wants and attitudes. 

His exaggerated gait and ramrod physique. The way he preens himself in order to inflate his ego and desirability with the Christmas Adventurers. A comment towards his possibly closeted homoerotic tendencies combined with his obvious salacious fetishization of Black women. Everything about himself dictates the lack of self control he sees within himself -not to mention acceptance of who he truly is--and therefore he acts outwardly and with vengeance. This is why his pursuit and potential capture and elimination of Willa is so crucial to him. For her existence at all, based upon his racism, undeniably. For what her existence says about him, unquestionably. 

Ghetto Pat/Bob and Lockjaw are two sides of the same coin: White men who have no idea of what their places in the larger world actually are, each one respectively flailing and failing to keep pace and they are spiraling out of control...if they ever had any. Perhaps, with "One Battle After Another," Paul Thomas Anderson is confronting or at least, wrestling with his own White male fears and dilemmas considering his real world life and family during these especially perilous times in 21st century America, where old battles long fought and barriers believed to have been, if not broken, severely damaged, are all being re-erected by a cabal of White supremacists of money, influence and enormous power. 

Is Paul Thomas Anderson as a White male human being, as well as being one of our most prominent filmmakers, a figure with the capacity for the understanding needed to remove himself from the grander narrative to place his non-White family members and characters first? Is it his responsibility to try? This may not even be the point to be taken from the film but this is what the great movies are supposed to do, to create thought, questions and debate while also being enormously entertaining.

Paul Thomas Anderson's "One Battle After Another" more than meets this moment during these precarious times, as it simultaneously explores our past and gives dire warnings towards the future, making it a perfect companion piece to Alex Garland's devastating "Civil War" (2024). It is a staggering achievement propelled by exhilarating filmmaking and captivating, compelling storytelling, a quality in lessening supply during our most generically driven and conceptually toothless cinematic era.

This film's teeth are sharp, fully bared and ready to strike and sink deeply to the marrow.

HE LED WITH HIS HEART: a review of "The Uncool" by Cameron Crowe

 

THE UNCOOL: A Memoir
CAMERON CROWE

Published by Avid Reader Press/Simon & Schuster
October 28, 2025
336 pages

"Seek out heroes and role models. Most will not disappoint you."

-Alice Crowe

Despite my own intense desires and vivid imagination, I am not entirely certain that I am one who fully ascribes to the adage of "never meeting one's heroes."

Now, for the ones who have been heroes to me throughout my life, I do have to admit that the prospect of meeting any of them certainly would've tested that adage. If I were ever to have met Prince, for instance, I do not have any idea of what I could have possibly done or said to even be able to brake through a persona that felt impenetrable to the point of being alien. To that end, I wonder if John Hughes would've been dismissive or if Todd Rundgren would prove to be mercurial. 

However, there have been a few moments in my life, where I am more than thankful for the times when I found myself in positions where I was able to meet figures who have deeply influenced or enriched me. Molly Ringwald, for instance, I met while she was on a book tour stop promoting Getting The Pretty Back (2010), her self described "girlfriend's guide." Or the time, when I met musicians Wendy Melvoin and Lisa Coleman of Prince's band The Revolution, behind the theater after a 2016 performance in commemoration of the then recent passing of their bandleader and collaborator. Or another when I met keyboardist Greg Hawkes of The Cars, right on the sidewalk outside of the venue where he had just performed as a member of Todd Rundgren's touring band. Or especially, and whole not face to face, the time in which I was able to conduct an extended interview with Moe Berg, leader of The Pursuit Of Happiness-one of my favorite bands-for my Savage Radio program on WVMO 98.7 FM (an experience in which I thought to myself, "I have to 'Cameron Crowe' this," so I don't waste Berg's valuable time).

In all three of those occasions, I was thankful to have encounters that were warmer and more engaging than they perhaps any right to be as I was just one face of many, hearing words that they have all heard variations of time and again. And still, they each found something to ensure the meeting was unique to me, creating a moment, while most likely not overtly memorable to themselves, but one that would be  everlasting for me. 

What else could I truly ask for? All I could wish for is just enough time to deliver a "thank you" as heartfelt as I could possibly elicit in a manner that did not exploit their time and energy as well as one where I didn't embarrass myself profusely. As I think about public figures-or better yet, a hero--whom I wish that I could meet, Cameron Crowe has long existed at a peak...and honestly, that desire has only elevated further.

Cameron Crowe has existed as an instrumental figure in my life, creative and otherwise for so long, it is actually a little difficult to think of a time when he was not a passionate influence. Granted, during his time as an adolescent writing music articles and interviews for Rolling Stone, I was too young (I am a little over 10 years his junior) to have experienced his work, despite our shared passion for music. Yet, by the time I was 13 years old and experienced Director Amy Heckerling's "Fast Times At Ridgemont High" (1982) for which he wrote the screenplay and the original novel from which the film was based, he became a fixture. It was the film I felt that officially began what I like to think of as the "Golden Age Of Teen Films" during the1980's and I watched it repeatedly, knowing full well the truth of what I was seeing, even as I was just a hair too young to have had the similar experiences of those as depicted within the film. It felt real and because of that, I would've followed Crowe anywhere,  

While not nearly as prolific as John Hughes, Cameron Crowe, like Hughes, had this uncanny ability to reveal a new project at precisely the perfect time in my life, at an exact point when I needed to experience it. 

I was a 20 year old college student when his directorial debut "Say Anything..." (1989) arrived in theaters, and for me, brought that aforementioned "Golden Age Of Teen Films" to its beautifully melancholic conclusion. I was exactly 23 years old, a college graduate, living with my then girlfriend now wife, just trying to figure out a life direction when his deliriously romantic cinematic short story collection "Singles" (1992) was released. By the time of his filmmaking artistic breakthrough of "Jerry Maguire" (1996), I was 27 years old and had experienced just enough of adulthood to receive that film as a work of spiritual deliverance so profound that I would need an entirely different essay to convey every moment that spoke to me as guidance, as truth, and as the wise words from a treasured older figure reminding me that integrity is not weakness, having empathy is not a fault and the act of just trying to be a good human being in an unforgiving world is an act of heroism. 

And of course, there is his magnum opus, "Almost Famous" (2000), a film to which I have expressed my towering love on this blogsite many times over, still contending it as existing as one of the finest films of the 21st century unquestionably, artistically and emotionally. 

I could continue through his creative life and my relationship with it, but I think you get the picture. And through everything over time, I still harbor my deepest hopes that I could one day meet Cameron Crowe, for if I could just have the chance, I would love to not only thank him, but to be able to have a conversation. His eloquence and loquaciousness precedes him and I would be forever grateful.

While the likelihood of such a meeting is highly unlikely, I am feeling that I have just experienced what has got to be the next best thing. The Uncool, Cameron Crowe's recently released memoir, is masterful. It accomplishes a tremendous feat of being simultaneously nostalgic and so very present as Crowe returns to the same conceptual territory of "Almost Famous" to weave a more extensive tale of his family and upbringing alongside his teenage experiences on the road writing about and interviewing rock stars, making for a work that informs the beloved feature film, grounding it in a more emotionally precarious context than maybe already felt. From end to end, Crowe's literary voice is elegantly warm with a meticulous sense of time and place firmly injecting the reader into periods and spaces, both external and internal, where emotional truths rise to the surface within every anecdote, adventure and aphorism, whether victorious or painful, ensuring every passage is felt purely and deeply.

And there are surprises to be felt as well. The memoir's opening section, during which Crowe recounts his own sense of mounting anxiety during rehearsals towards the opening of the stage version of "Almost Famous: The Musical," coupled with his relationship with Alice Crowe, his formidable Mother, who at this stage, was nearing the end of her life, I was instantly struck with the brave fragility of which Crowe revealed of himself upon the page. He pulled me in closer, as I was sensing that I was about to read something not dissimilar from the very best of his writing and filmmaking efforts. 

It is not easily achievable, to conjure the emotional liminal space of what Crowe celebrates as the "happy/sad," which to me is greater and deeper than mere bittersweetness. It is the existential space where hearts connect, ache, break and somehow find the strength to uplift, hope and rise again. Cameron Crowe's The Uncool accomplishes this feat consistently with honesty and grace, making for an enormously rewarding reading experience where the stories and the emotions linger in the air much like the afterglow of a treasured concert experience. 

As Cameron Crowe's The Uncool returns to the same conceptual ground as "Almost Famous," what has been delivered is no retread whatsoever. Our understanding of Crowe's life and the tender and tenuous relationships within his family is expanded to include his Father, James Crowe, and both of his older sisters Cathy and Cindy, who tragically ended her life when Cameron Crowe was a child, and with whom music served as a connective tissue and understanding even in a home where rock music was banned. 

From here, The Uncool details his journey of self discovery and attaining a sense of belonging with the figures who would make up his chosen tribe of rock writers, including mentors like the inimitable Lester Bangs, and the musicians they each revered. In doing so, and like "Almost Famous," The Uncool allows the reader to live vicariously through Crowe's teenage rock journalist experiences making for us wheat feels to be a magic carpet ride through a crucial period of rock music history precisely when it was all happening. If that were all the book offered, it would still be compulsively readable but this is Cameron Crowe we're talking about and salacious, superficial tell-alls are the furthest thing from his mind when there are deeper emotional waters to plunge into.  

The Uncool firmly exists as a collection coming of age stories. First, there is Cameron Crowe himself, where he is exactly like the teens he chronicled in "Fast Times At Ridgemont High," as he willingly exposed himself to, and therefore experienced and endured, a life that was indeed too fast and he was clearly not developmentally ready for but was forced to adapt in order to achieve his dreams let alone survive.    

To that end, it is a coming of age story for the rock stars Crowe wrote about for so many of these larger than life figures were also relatively young people just trying to gain footing in an unpredictable, uncompromising world where art, business, creativity and fame often collided and clashed. 

In one vignette after another, Crowe elicits what could almost be lost songs from the individuals profiled. Interior moments, like ones of pensive sadness with Jim Croce, an 18 month chrysalis phase with the ever shape shifting David Bowie and especially, a brutally striking sequence of grief and sorrow starring Gregg Allman, succeed tremendously with humanizing those who have always been quite unknowable and have existed as out of reach legends. Now that many of whom have passed on, The Uncool graciously opens up windows reminding us that these same legends were also once kids with talents and dreams all trying to discover just how to navigate this thing called life. 

The book is also a coming of age story for a family, as we witness the respective odysseys of Crowe's parents, through their occupations, as marriage partners and as parents to three children navigating triumphs and tragedies. Wisely, we regard the process of  "coming of age" as not being limited to the young but as an ongoing, lifelong process where, if we truly allow ourselves, we are able to try, fail, try again, learn, discover, unlearn and re-discover all the while hopefully formulating precisely the person we wish to become in the lives we are blessed to have with the people, experiences and the music we love all playing essential puzzle pieces. And as the perfect bookend, Crowe returns to himself at the book's outset, at his present age, a myriad of life lessons learned while openly acknowledging that he is still learning. 

The Uncool often reminded me of Crowe's beautiful documentary "The Union" (2011)--now, extremely difficult to find as it is not available on physical media and is not streaming anywhere in the HBO archives, the format in which I saw the film--starring Elton John and Leon Russell and surrounding the creation of their duet album of the same name (released October 19, 2010). For me, it was a film that fully transcended the fly-on-the-wall making of aesthetics to become a work of supreme gratitude, from Elton to Leon certainly, but for everyone who wishes to reach back to the key individuals who first inspired you, championed you, who somehow noticed that inexplicable spark in you, to just say "Thank you." 

The Uncool accomplishes the same feat as every encounter led to another and then another, each one inspiring confidence to keep placing one foot in front of the other onto every stepping stone. I loved  how this book, much like how Writer/Director James L. Brooks' peerless "Broadcast News" (1987) meticulously captured the pinpoint when television news crossed the Rubicon from the ethics of  journalism into the heartless business of entertainment, Crowe offers a love letter to journalism, physical print media publications and passionate writers who once existed in a healthy fashion for readers desiring a window into an otherwise unattainable world. It is a love letter to every music journalist, like himself, who harbored a genuine, unassailable passion towards their favorite art form as well as for writers who simply harbored an equally genuine, unassailable passion for the art of writing. 

It should be noted that The Uncool is not necessarily a complete memoir Crowe takes the narrative largely up to his beginnings in the film industry. That being said, over and again, Crowe offers his gratitude to all who showed him, in gestures both large and seemingly throwaway (a tiny moment with Tom Petty, in particular, is seismic), a path forwards and in all honesty, and Crowe's thankfulness, we would not be holding this book in our hands without any of them. In turn, Crowe's memoir offers all of us reading an opportunity to think to those who aided us and how we can inspire those coming up alongside or behind us whatever our station in life happens to be.

Which of course, brings me to what might be the book's greatest love letter, from Cameron Crowe to his Mother--which then made me ponder my own relationship with my Mother, who is, like Alice Crowe, a formidable, force of nature of a woman. Even now, at her advance age, she remains seemingly unstoppable, forever busy and involved with one excursion or another, and unshakable in her beliefs and lifelong role as a leader, guide, mentor and teacher (which was indeed her profession--a Chicago public high school Science teacher). 

My Mother is the one who shaped my love of libraries. She was the one who read to me as we shared books together. She was the one who refused to allow me to fully slack off during Summers as it was expected that I continue with Math workbooks and other learning excursions to keep my brain operating as she saw fit. She ensured I had swimming lessons and was involved in church activities and alongside my equally formidable Father, she was uncompromising with my academic progress. And, also like Alice Crowe, she is forever armed with aphorisms. This, of course, led to considerable friction as the person she wanted me to be clashed with the person I already knew that I was. Even now, seven years after my Dad's passing, there is still something tenuous between us that rides directly with the love we share. For can we truly accept each other for who we each happen to be, especially now as the remaining time we have to share is lessening as we age both separately and together.

The final sections of The Uncool, which crosscut between Alice Crowe's last days on the eve of the musical's opening night free fall into the happy/sad majestically. If you allow me to set the scene for you...

I was reading these sections to the end of the book, two evenings after Christmas while listening to Ben  Watt's wintry album "Fever Dream" (released April 8, 2016). As I reached this portion of the book, the album coincidentally reached its finale, the plaintive, meditative track "New Year Of Grace," and within that combination, an emotional, ephemeral alchemy began to just...happen. The words on the page were augmented by the song, which I began to play on repeat so as to not lose the spell being weaved, and before long, my face was flushed with tears. Trust me, while films and songs can easily bring forth tears, I am able to count on one hand the books that unlocked that level of emotion and I firmly believe that The Uncool accomplished this not through any sense of unearned manipulation but for the purest thing...Cameron Crowe led the storytelling with his heart. 

Cameron Crowe's The Uncool is as warm and as personal as if he is right in the room with you speaking directly to you. Writing this book is one that he clearly wrote for himself as the pleasure of just writing is palpable. But...it also feels like a book he wrote directly to you, inspiring feelings and memories, creating a dialogue even though he is unable to hear our side of the conversation.

Perhaps this book really was my way to meet a lifelong hero...even so, I still wish for a day when I can have that chance to say "Thank you." And for someone who has always been uncool, that is possibly them most uncool wish to have. 

HAPPY 16TH BIRTHDAY TO SAVAGE CINEMA!!!

It's New Year's Eve and a significant milestone occurred just yesterday and it did sneak up on me. On December 30th, 16 years ago while visiting my parents during my Winter break, Savage Cinema was born!!!

This was the day when I began writing in earnest and fully engaging with my creative spirit and while I have not been writing nearly as much these last few years, i remain proud of this milestone for it is still here and everything that I have ever accomplished since this day only happened because of this day.

Without Savage Cinema, Synesthesia never happens.

Without Savage Cinema, my Savage Substack never happens, especially as I am using that space as a means to re-inspire myself by re-posting previously written pieces, giving myself the confidence that what I have accomplished before can be accomplished in the future. Yes, it frustrates me that I have a few reviews that have begun but were never finished or others that I just never had the time to even begin writing at all. But, I am determined. I remain intrepid. I know that I can continue. 16 years ago told me that I could.

To that end, I doubt I would have found the courage to even try to create Savage Radio for WVMO, which then led me to do midday and late night guest DJ mini shows as well as the monthly Vinyl-A-Go Go alongside two of my DJ brothers.

My artistic life really started 16 years ago yesterday and none of it could have ever happened without your encouragement and support because if you only knew how scared I was to hit that “PUBLISH” button for the very first time.

I can talk myself out of anything and somehow, on this day 16 years ago…I didn’t.

I listened.

Thank you.

BEWARE OF DARKNESS: a review of "Weapons"

"WEAPONS"
Written and Directed by Zach Cregger
***1/2 (three and half stars)
RATED R
Running Time: 2 hrs 8 min

Just in time for Halloween indeed...

Over the course of Savage Cinema, I have long expressed that my attraction to the horror genre as a whole is faint at best. Of course, there are many films that I have seen over my lifetime that I will easily agree are classics or ones that I deeply enjoy and even revere, my lack of desire to place myself into a cinematic situation where my sense of fear is to be ignited remains as strong as ever. That being said, every now and again, there are films the pique my curiosity enough where I am willing to take a chance. 

For instance, and just last year Writer/Director Coraline Fargeat's body horror phantasmagoria "The Substance" (2024) was one where I not only took myself to the movie theater to experience, it is one that I genuinely loved and have seen three times to date. This year, I was intrigued again after seeing trailers for Writer/Director Zach Cregger's "Weapons," and for whatever reasons, I opted to not go to the movie theater--possibly due to not wanting to willingly deliver myself into a film fear factor. Yet, just this weekend, the film has arrived upon streaming and cable television services and after having seen it, not only do I feel that I could have made it through just fine if I had seen it in the theater, I thoroughly enjoyed the film. 

While not quite in the same high wire league of either "The Substance" or Writer/Director Ryan Coogler's masterpiece "Sinners," Zach Cregger's "Weapons" delivers in high storytelling gifts, style and a palpable mounting tension that boils over into its cathartic climax. Most crucially, it is yet another powerful quenching of the intense hunger and thirst in the 21st century movie-going audience possesses for experiencing original material in lieu of the latest sequel, prequel, remake, reimagining and the like.

Set in the small town of Mayfield, Pennsylvania, Zach Cregger's "Weapons" opens with an inexplicable and undeniably traumatic event for at 2:17 a.m., seventeen children from one third grade classroom awaken and leave their homes, running with arms outstretched deep into the night, never to be seen again. Only one classmate from the same classroom, named Alex Lilly (Cary Christopher) remains at home and therefore, arrives at school the next day. 

From here, Cregger unfolds his tale in a non-linear format where we are introduced to several key characters including...

Justine Gandy (Julia Garner), the teacher from whose classroom her students have disappeared, and has now become the town pariah triggering her sense of paranoia and rising alcoholism.

Archer (Josh Brolin), a construction worker and Father to one of the disappeared children. 

Paul (Alden Ehrenreich), a police officer and ex-boyfriend of Justine's. 

James (Austin Abrams), a local drug addict and burglar. 

Marcus (Benedict Wong), Justine's school principal.

And finally...Alex Lilly's eccentric, elderly Aunt Gladys (Amy Madigan).     

To reveal anything further would end up producing spoilers but I am happy to report that Zach Cregger's "Weapons" is first rate, character driven horror executed by fine performances from the entire cast and supported richly through Cinematographer Larkin Seiple's ghostly visuals lending just the right  amount of Gothic otherworldliness overlaid upon a non-descript sleepy small town. 

For as rightfully creepy as the film is, there is also a sheer amount of genuine fun to be had as "Weapons" essentially functions as a modern day version of a Grimm's Fairy Tale, and I mean the original tales that we do not read to children anymore due to the severe darkness of their nightmare fueled tenor combined with the explicit macabre violence contained within. It struck me for as dark as "Weapons" is, Cregger often utilizes a slyly playful side to the proceedings that simultaneously raises and releases the tension as the various parts of the narrative begin to click together. 

I deeply appreciated Cregger's commitment to not unveiling a horror film that is nothing more than jump scares every few moments, relentless torture porn, gratuitous gore and not even one character to give a damn about. He clearly has a story to tell and I deeply admired how his "Rashomon" tactic allowed us to weave ourselves into this town and its inhabitants where we become fully invested in their lives, giving us actual people to care about when all is unleashed and the inevitable carnage begins. 

Returning to the Grimm's Fairly Tale concept for a moment, I also appreciated how "Weapons," could even be viewed as a cautionary tale for our current social/political moment in 21st century America as the film depicts how characters indeed weaponize themselves at the expense of others for either their own sense of self-preservation, desperation, or an individualized sense of judgement regardless if the means are valid. Further, we are given a story where we can witness how communities weaponize themselves against its own citizens to combat a threat that is too outsized to even comprehend with any sense of rationality. Therefore, this is the darkness that threatens to consume us all and by our own hands...even before those aforementioned outsized threats arrive.

Now, dear readers, I know my reviews tend to stretch out a bit but really, Zach Cregger's "Weapons" is best experienced as cold as possible and so, there is not much more that I feel at liberty to express. .So, trust me, after the Trick Or Treaters come and go, dim your house lights, settle in and be spun a well crafted, entertaining, involving and richly dark yarn that is perfect for any Halloween night.

MONEY DON'T MATTER 2NIGHT: a review of "Highest 2 Lowest"

 

"HIGHEST 2 LOWEST"
Based upon the novel King's Ransom by Ed McBain
Based upon Akira Kurosawa's "High and Low" (1963)
Screenplay Written by Alan Fox
Directed by Spike Lee 
*** (three stars)
RATED R 
Running Time: 2 hrs 13 min

To work with a sports metaphor, what we have here is a big swing but not quite a miss. 

A drum that I will beat until my last breath, starring an opinion to which I feel that the man has never truly received the credit for which he is long deserved, Spike Lee has proven for nearly 40 years that he is one of our greatest living American filmmakers, whose idiosyncratic vision and full, distinctive body of work overall possesses an exceedingly high quality contained within its output. He exists as a born filmmaker and like any of our greatest cinematic storytellers, there is simply no one else on the planet who is like him. 

Certainly, not every Spike Lee Joint has been top tier. There have not been some ambitious efforts that were more middling or misfired-"Girl 6" (1996), "She Hate Me" (2004), "Red Hook Summer" (2012), "Da Sweet Blood Of Jesus" (2014)--to impassioned efforts that felt undercooked--"Miracle At St. Anna" (2008)--and one utter disaster in "Oldboy" (2013). 

With that taken into consideration, the arrival of Spike Lee's latest "Highest 2 Lowest" certainly carries its own cinematic weight as it marks the fifth pairing between Lee and one of or finest thespians in Denzel Washington, unveiling 19 years after their previous and excellent thriller "Inside Man " (2006), in addition to being a self described re-imagining of nothing less than Akira Kurosawa's "High And Low" (1963). And while all of the ingredients are present, the film ultimately buckles under its own aforementioned cinematic weight. It's good Spike Lee. Not GREAT Spike Lee. While I will take a good Spike Lee film over most of what is being released these days, I know that I wanted that unmistakable  greatness and truthfully, that greatness seems to be a bit buried in the film's subtext when I would have rathered it flowed to the surface.    

Spike Lee's "Highest 2 Lowest" stars Denzel Washington as legendary New York City music mogul with "the best ears in the business" David King, who resides literally on top of the world in a resplendent penthouse overlooking Brooklyn Bridge with his wife Pam King (Ilfanesh Hadera) and teenage son Trey (Aubrey Joseph). 

With an ever changing music industry, King's Stackin' Hits record label is facing a buyout by a rival label. To avert this plan, King, who once sold his majority ownership, schemes to buy back his majority ownership, raising cash for the deal by putting up his personal assets including his penthouse and collection of artworks by contemporary Black artists as collateral. 

On the day the deal is set to occur, King receives an anonymous phone call from a kidnapper (A$AP Rocky) demanding 17.5 million in Swiss 1000 franc notes in exchange for the safe return of Trey. What ensues is that the kidnapper has made an error, for Trey is not in his possession but mistakenly, it is Kyle (Elijah Wright), Trey's best friend and the son of King's best friend, confidant and driver Paul Christopher (Jeffrey Wright).  This leads King to a shattering moral dilemma. Does he pay the ransom for a child who is not his own but was indeed stolen because of a vendetta against him? 

Spike Lee's "Highest 2 Lowest" finds the filmmaker in his mode as an entertainer rather than as a firebrand. Like "Inside Man," this new film exists within that neighborhood, so to speak, as it embodies the form of a taut, tight thriller starring a protagonist who finds himself stretched to unimaginable limitations that threaten to upend all that has he spent his life building upwards. 

Largely, I felt that the film was a quintessential New York story, from the gloriously filmed opening credit sequence to the depths of the street level turbulence in which David King finds himself, perfectly detailing, visually and metaphorically, the trajectory of David King's life, from its earliest years. to his grand success and potential crash back to Earth. In doing so, "Highest 2 Lowest" comfortably adds itself into Lee's oeuvre, which has chronicled the life of New York itself throughout Lee's lifetime via the lion's share of his films. The neighborhoods and boroughs of the 1970's via "Crooklyn" (1994) and "Summer Of Sam" (1999), to the then present day of the 1980's and 1990s in the likes of "She's Gotta Have It" (1986), "Do The Right Thing" (1989), "Mo' Better Blues" (19909), "Jungle Fever" (1991), and "Clockers" (1995) among others to the immediate aftermath post 9/11 with "25th Hour" (2002). 

Simultaneously claustrophobic, intense and euphoric, Spike Lee showcases the overflowing to bursting life of New York City during a spectacular ransom drop sequence! It is a dizzying, cacophony of sight, sound, color, action and music exploding with the sheer force of life as an incognito David King, with ransom money in hand, is shuffled between train stops heading towards a New York Yankees game against the Boston Red Sox (!!) as well as an outstanding Puerto Rican Day Parade starring the late Eddie Palmieri and his orchestra. 

Yet, "Highest 2 Lowest" is not all grand gestures as there are several quieter scenes that are equal in their emotional vigor and severity, including a stunning Father/son sequence between King and Trey, where as the Father, King asserts his dominance but as his son, Trey offers one line that makes the towering King buckle in his steps.  

Despite those sequences and others, what struck me most about "Highest 2 Lowest" is that as a whole, it never really seemed to get its blood boiling, unlike "Inside Man," and to me, I felt this to be a striking flaw in a story of such palpable morality and inherent drama containing such high emotional stakes. It's strange to me because Spike Lee has consistently existed and excelled as one of our most fearless directors yet this time, it felt as if he and Denzel Washington-aside from a stellar moment during which King intuitively battle raps against the kidnapper-were pulling their punches, holding back a little when I felt they should have gone for the jugular. 

But the subtext that exists is fascinating...

As David King, Denzel Washington portrays a figure who could exist as some amalgamation of Berry  Gordy and Jay Z., a lion almost in the Winter of his life attempting to claim dominance over his kingdom for as log as humanly possible. Yes, the love for his family feels pure but once the money is placed front and center with the ransom, the morality play takes center stage. 

I found it interesting that Denzel Washington, forever one of our most dashing and charismatic leading male actors, this time around, as David King and despite his magnanimous life style, appears to be a tad disheveled. His gorgeous suits look a tad too large for his frame. His gait feels to not have quite the exact same stride as we are used to witnessing. His hair and even his skin lack the perfective sheen. Even the opulence of his home feels to dwarf him. And for me, it felt as if his more slightly rumpled appearance feels as if it is suggesting that for all of the wealth and fame he has amassed over his life and career, it is in actuality, an increasingly uncomfortable fit...even though he would do anything to not leave this world behind. 

To that end, I wondered if this was a film of self reflection for Spike Lee himself as like King, he has certainly amassed his own fortune through his own self made legacy, in film, business and teaching career. Was "Highest 2 Lowest" a means of Lee reminding himself to not only always remember from where he originated but to also never lose his moral compass in a world where the concept of morality is rapidly losing any sense of cultural value--therefore, a compelling message to impart to his own children.

I guess that I had wished more of David King's internal conflict combined with those subtextual elements emerged in greater fashion to the screenplay, which in turn would have enhanced the final product. Don't get me wrong. Spike Lee's "Highest 2 Lowest" is a good film. Again, this film is Lee providing mass entertainment rather than one of socio/political intent. Even so, all of the urgency felt to be just this far underneath the surface, depleting what could have been an exceedingly more vibrant and visceral experience than what has resulted. 

In the end, everything felt to be a bit too easy, too pat and when I think of Spike Lee, easy and pat are not descriptions for the kind of storyteller and artist he typically is. 

AN EMOTIONAL GAP: a review of "The Phoenician Scheme"

 

"THE PHOENICIAN SCHEME"
Story by Wes Anderson & Roman Coppola
Screenplay Written by Wes Anderson
Directed by Wes Anderson
** (two stars)
RATED PG 13
Running Time: 1hr 45min

It happens to even the very best of them.

Filmmaker Wes Anderson has existed at the top tier of my favorite filmmakers for close to 30 years as of this writing, and his status as being one of my personal cinematic heroes has not diminished in the least. That being said, even the most formidable can stumble and for me, notably for the very first time since I fell in love with Anderson's films beginning with his masterful second feature "Rushmore" (1998), I am met with disappointment. 

Wes Anderson's "The Phoenician Scheme" delivers everything that could every expect from an Anderson film experience: the ornately meticulous production design, the droll and deadpan patterns of speech, a certain dollhouse structure to the proceedings overall. Yet, this time, the result feels like a hefty bag of ammunition for those who truly dislike to those who even detest Wes Anderson movies. For as much as there is to marvel at for an Anderson enthusiast like myself, I have to admit that for the very first time, I felt myself shifting in my seat, feeling unengaged with all of the wonderment occurring in front of my eyes. And to a crucial degree, I felt that the overall concept contained a certain disconnect that I could not get myself pass and therefore, kept me at an arms length. While not a bad film in the least, Frankly, "The Phoenician Scheme" left me cold.

Set in 1950, Wes Anderson's "The Phoenician Scheme" stars an excellent Benicio del Toro as Anatole "Zsa Zsa" Korda, an industrialist, financier and arms dealer who, at the start of the film, survives yet another assassination attempt. Feeling as if his days are growing numbered, as peppered by visions of the afterlife featuring the likes of a prophet (F. Murray Abraham), Korda's first wife-who is rumored to have been murdered by him (Charlotte Gainsbourg), and God himself (Bill Murray), Korda embarks upon a journey to change his ways to gain entrance into Heaven.

But, first some unfinished business...

First, Korda re-enters into the life of his estranged daughter and Catholic novice Sister Liesl (Mia Threapleton) with hopes to mend fences while also asking of her to abandon the church and take over his businesses. With a reluctant Liesl and Bjorn (Michael Cera), his administrative assistant (as well as Norwegian entomologist) in tow, Korda embarks upon his "Phoenician scheme," a plot to stake his entire fortune to overhaul the infrastructure of Phoenicia with slave labor by swindling his investors (played by Bryan Cranston, Tom Hanks and Jeffrey Wright, respectively) while being pursued by government agent Excalibur (Rupert Friend), further assassination attempts and the specter of Uncle Nubar Korda (Benedict Cumberbatch), Korda's estranged half-brother. 

With its labyrinthine plot, dizzying speedball dialogue (which again, is an absolute blessing to listen to--especially during this current cinematic stage where the written word of screenplays are increasingly an afterthought), a variety of effective, engaging performances and again, a visual aesthetic and presentation second to none and singular in his trademark vision, Wes Anderson's "The Phoenician Scheme" contains many of the hallmarks that have defined his cinematic reputation as one of our most idiosyncratic artists. I feel that the secret ingredient to his filmography is that while the display of his aesthetic may feel artificial, they have always remained emotionally true as they often possess powerfully melancholic souls while being playfully offbeat.

As I have stated upon this site in past reviews, I felt for as wondrous as his filmography already was between "Rushmore" and "Moonrise Kingdom" (2012), it was the arrival of "The Grand Budapest Hotel" (2014), "Isle Of Dogs" (2018), and "The French Dispatch" (2021) where Anderson's inventiveness and creativity felt to skyrocket into gloriously uncharted, unfiltered territories yet they were all deeply felt love letters to a dreamworld Old Europe, Japanese cinema and the written worlds created within journalism, respectively while also existing as mournfully elegiac films about endings. "Asteroid City" (2023) was possibly his most arcane and even still, the emotional throughline was always present as I still feel that film was essentially Wes Anderson existential journey into why he makes films in the way that he chooses.

Yet, with "The Phoenician Scheme," there was an emptiness to me. Yes, Benicio del Toro impressed grandly, fully ingratiating himself into the Wes Anderson universe effortlessly. Mia Threapleton (Kate Winslet's daughter in her first leading role!) made a terrific impression as well. T The incorporation of musical pieces from composers Stravinsky, Beethoven and Mussorgsky among others greatly enhanced the film's elegantly ornate mood. And of course, there were sequences and moments in the comedy of manners that made me laugh out loud, from a ridiculous basketball game between Korda and his investors and Korda's penchant for offering hand grenades to others as innocuously as if he were passing out dinner mints.

Most especially, it is the gorgeous Cinematography by Bruno Delbonnel combined with the outstanding set design again made for images so stunning that I wished that I could've utilized the capacity to freeze frame images to study them or adore them like the finest of paintings. To that end, Anderson's physical utilization of his actors is possibly at its most extreme sense of being esoteric as the actors are often staged with a sense of unnatural rigidity, leaning heavily into the fabrication of the proceedings. They nearly look like human figurines and yet, they move. Returning to my delight in regarding each frame as if they were paintings, it is within the movement of the actors where it is almost like witnessing an illusion...a moving picture. 

And what are the movies anyway?  

All of this is extremely clever and it all contains the same sense of wonder. Don't get me wrong. There is a great amount to admire in "The Phoenician Scheme" but...crucially, without a soul, everything else is just window dressing.

Perhaps it was an over familiarity with some common Anderson themes and plot points. The dysfunctional family as headed, such as it is, by a cantankerous scoundrel Father/Father figure seeking a redemption arc in his elder years a la "The Royal Tenenbaums" (2001) or "The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou" (2004), for instance. A main character barreling ahead within the story adorned with all manner of physical bruises mirroring inner pain and sorrow, a visual representation of literally being the walking wounded is reminiscent of "The Darjeelng Limited" (2007). We've seen al of this before from Anderson and even better, so why are we rehashing this avenue to this extent?

Furthermore, it is within this construct that Wes Anderson has injected themes and plot points, while clearly satirical, left me with a decidedly unpleasant taste, especially as we are living in the world we are existing in presently. 

Let's be honest here. Despite all of the whimsy and playfulness on display combined with the full commitment of Benicio del Toro's performance in the leading role, the character of Anatole "Zsa Zsa" Korda is an irredeemable monster, making his quest for moral and spiritual redemption a non-starter. 

Throughout the film, and once Korda begins to hatch his plot, which again is to bank his fortune as a means to swindle the fortunes of other irredeemable monsters to build an infrastructure utilizing slave labor, the film lost me. 

It was as if I was being asked to sympathize with a Trump-ian figure, despite the fact that Korda is unquestionably more articulate, intelligent, educated, contemplative and elegant than who I could not help myself to constantly find my mind drifting towards. Korda's disdain for his children until he utilizes them for his self interests. The rumor of Korda possibly having murdered his ex-wife. The competitive palling around with the soulless investors felt like regarding self perceived "Masters Of The Universe" felt like regarding Bezos, Zuckerberg, Murdoch, Ailes, and Thiel playing with the world as if upon a string, the human cost forever irrelevant. It all felt too close to reality, so to speak, that I found myself detaching because I could not understand why Korda deserves salvation. For you cannot attain absolution through unrepentant capitalism. And frankly, when you end up essentially rooting for the assassins, I believe your film has proven itself unsuccessful with its ultimate goals.     

Starting with "The Grand Budapest Hotel," Wes Anderson's fantasias have grown ever more sumptuous to my unwavering delight but with "The Phoenician Scheme," the film felt as if its contents were made up of previously used, or discarded or underthought ideas from the bottom drawer. For a track record that is as uncommonly high as Anderson's, I am certain he will rebound quickly. 

But for now, and regardless of its strengths, "The Phoenician Scheme" is the first Wes Anderson film that I have no desire to revisit.

THE BIG FINISH: a review of "Mission: Impossible-The Final Reckoning"

 

"Mission: Impossible-The Final Reckoning"
Based upon the television series "Mission: Impossible" created by Bruce Geller
Screenplay Written by Christopher McQuarrie & Erik Jendressen
Directed by Christopher McQuarrie
**** (four stars)
RATED PG 13
Running Time: 2 hrs 50 min

With all due respect to the latest round of cast members, I am recalling a somewhat recent sketch from "Saturday Night Live" featuring two of our regulars (I cannot remember whom) portraying a couple of cabana boys casually jawing away between (sort of) assisting clients. 

At one point, one of the two turns to the other to announce his light distaste for the title "Mission: Impossible" in favor of just calling the films..."I Think He's Gonna Do it!" That quip made me laugh heartedly but honestly, when coming to the actual films, which have been part of our cinematic lives for 29 years, the fact that they have all been executed to such a high level by a seemingly-and increasingly-sheer force of iron will by Actor/Producer Tom Cruise, the prospects always feels like impossible missions made unbelievably possible. To echo that SNL sketch, regarding Cruise, yes, I think he's gonna do it but man, does he keep raising his own bar to ever exceedingly tall heights. It just has to fall apart, right?  

Dear readers, as I have expressed over and again, after a lifetime of watching movies, I have long existed in a space where I never need see another car chase again, so to speak. And if you are regular visitors to this blogsite, you already know my long held disdain for our current state of cinema where sequels, prequels, reboots, remakes, re-imaginings and the like have fully taken over the theater going landscape at the expense of any and every other movie that could be made. 

That said, there are always exceptions for when the movie works, its success cannot be denied. Tom Cruise's "Mission: Impossible" series, for me, has been the incredibly rare film series that continues to excel to high levels when most series would have grown stale by the third installment. Instead, it was with J.J. Abrams "Mission: Impossible III" (2006), that the series began to take off and it has never looked back as every subsequent chapter has delivered greater results than its predecessor by raising its own stakes and miraculously exceeding any expectations and/or hesitations. 

With Christopher McQuarrie's "Mission: Impossible-The Final Reckoning," the eight film in the series (and McQuarrie's fourth as Director). he and Tom Cruise have gifted us with an absolutely thunderous  send off. There is no conceivable reason for this film to work as powerfully well as it does except for the fact that Tom Cruise's unshakeable passion for the movies and movie making is evident in every single frame and an unwillingness to deliver anything less than his absolute best, thus having all of his collaborators dig just as deeply to ensure they are working towards the same goal. And yet, as wild as the film is, what surprised me the most was the film's often overwhelming gravity, mirroring the current state and fears of our very real world, suspending my sense of disbelief to the point where my palms began to sweat! 

Christopher McQuarrie's "Mission: Impossible-The Final Reckoning" picks up directly from the previous episode as the rogue AI known as The Entity has evolved to the stage where the nature of empirical truth and facts have been all but obliterated. Aided by the actions of a rising doomsday cult, The Entity has increasingly overtaken global nuclear systems, placing the world on the edge of Armageddon in days time. 

Ethan Hunt (Tom Cruise) and his IMF team, which includes expert computer technician Luther Stickell (Ving Rhames), field agent Benji Dunn (Simon Pegg), new IMF recruit/ace pick pocketer Grace (Hayley Atwell) and French assassin Paris (Pom Klementieff), still in pursuit of the elusive Gabriel (Esai Morales) as well as the other half of the submerged Entity source code key, embark on the ultimate race against time. 

Is he gonna do it? Well...this film is subtitled "The Final Reckoning," isn't it?

With all we know about elongated film series over time, there really is no fathomable reason that Christopher McQuarrie's "Mission: Impossible-The Final Reckoning" should work at all. Most film series peter out by the third installment if not sooner or they fully overstay their welcome (as some would argue about the continuing Marvel Cinematic Universe). Yet, and as previously stated, under the supreme and endlessly determination of Tom Cruise with McQuarrie as brilliant co-pilot, the "Mission; Impossible" series, for me, has only grown in stature and power with each installment. 

With this latest effort, I have deeply appreciated how the film extends itself beyond being superlative popcorn entertainment but one that succeeds exceedingly on multi-levels. With the previous installment, "Mission: Impossible-Dead Reckoning Part 1" (2024), we not only received a furiously conceived and executed the first half of essentially a two part finale, we also received what was essentially a tribute to the classic action sequences within the history of the movies as essentially all of that film's set pieces were echoes and astonishing updates to classic tropes from the past starring Cruise pushing his body plus mental and physical stamina beyond reasonable limitations to ensure that we in the audience receive a film experience designed for the big screen and hopefully one that will be forever etched in or memories.     

As convoluted as the details and intricacies of the film's plot are, in addition to the levels of exposition needed, the story of "Mission: Impossible-The Final Reckoning" is easily distilled into basics that I found easy to follow and digest. Remarkably, I thoroughly enjoyed how the film weaved elements from all seven previous entries, from smaller to larger and especially one fantastic detail, allowing the eight films to be revisited as either stand alone features or as an extended narrative. And as he again pushes his body, physical and mental stamina beyond reasonable limits, Tom Cruise demonstrates precisely why he has existed as a movie star for nearly four decades but also the sheer diligence and feverish commitment he brings to the movies. 

Whether a film of his has been creatively successful or not, I would be hard pressed to find any soul who would think that Tom Cruise has ever performed lazily, just claimed a paycheck for a role or did not believe in the film he was making at a given time. He has been so dependable for so long, and with his celebrity status as large as it is, it is easy to take him for granted, as an actor and as a creative.

This element regarding Tom Cruise's career makes it the perfect mirror image of the character of Ethan Hunt, making 'Mission: Impossible-The Final Reckoning" work beautifully as a dual narrative of Cruise doing all that he is able for the sake of his chosen art (and the survival of the movies as a communal experience) and Ethan Hunt doing all that he can to save the world from annihilation.

For Cruise as a performer, much will rightfully be noted about his rigorous (and downright insane) desire to place himself in such danger for the sake of or entertainment. But even so, I was again exhilarated as it added to the overall suspension of disbelief knowing that it is really Cruise being tossed around in the skies as he attempts to navigate from one by plane into another, again raising the narrative stakes, forcing us to hang onto the edge of or seats wondering if he will indeed save the day against ever escalating...ahem...impossible odds. 

Here is where Christopher McQuarrie and his expert cinematic team of collaborators take all they have learned from the previous film, apply those techniques and ratchet up the tension and excitement even further conceptually to degrees that I haven't really felt since Christopher Nolan's "The Dark Knight Rises" (2012) or even Rian Johnson's "Star Wars: Episode 8-The Last Jedi" (2017) as just as when I saw those films, beads of sweat were pooling in the palms of my hands!

Yet, if the film was all set pieces and no substance, regardless of how stupendous the extended underwater and high flying climax are (and they truly are), "Mission: Impossible-The Final Reckoning" would not be cinema to savor if there was nothing else to stick to the ribs, so to speak. For me, this film offered a critical element that assisted greatly in cementing its power as entertainment as well as existing as an artistic statement. By reaching out from fantasy and staring out at the world in front of us as well as behind us. 

This past month while delivering a commencement speech at Wake Forest University, Author and "60 Minutes" correspondent Scott Pelley delivered the following urgent remarks to the graduating class of 2025:

"I'm a reporter so I won't bury the lead. The country needs you. The country that has given you so much is calling you, the Class of 2025. The country needs you and it needs you today...

...in this moment-this moment, this morning-our sacred rule of law is under attack. Journalism is under attack. Universities are under attack. Freedom of speech is under attack. An insidious fear is reaching through our schools, our businesses, our homes and into our private thoughts...

...power can rewrite history. With grotesque, false narratives they can make heroes criminals and criminals heroes. And they can change the definition f words that we use to describe reality...

...This is an old playbook my friends. There is nothing new in this."

Christopher McQuarrie's "Mission: Impossible-The Final Reckoning" surprised me by how sobering of an experience it actually was. It is a film that speaks to the moment in our collective history politically as much as it speaks to our turbulent political pasts regrading the nature of absolute power corrupting absolutely as well as our own hubris with believing that we, as humans, can control what ultimately cannot be controlled, be it the environment, the nature of Science and most certainly, the rising and dangerous control over us by AI. For what is happening right this very minute and certainly over this previous decade bookended by two horrific Trump administrations, feckless government officials, a complacent media, rampant avarice and unleashed misogyny and racism, empirical truth has been fractured and hopefully not irrevocably...but I fear we are not far off.

A plot that showcases technology run amok leading the world via false narratives to the edge of nucleal holocaust is no longer an outlet for Science Fiction for we are living this reality via authoritarian means that are as old as time. What has made "Mission: Impossible-The Final Reckoning" so potent is that the peril is so real and tangible that makes the film's plea to retain and rebuild our sense of shared humanity that much more urgent as well as it is so passionately earnest. 

As Ving Rhames as Luther intones with deep, urgently felt solemnity: 

"We all share the same fate-the same future. The sum of our infinite choices. One such futures built on kindness, trust and mutual understanding...should we choose to accept it. Driving without question towards a light we cannot see. Not just for those we hold close, but for those we'll never meet."

These words, or variations of, are repeated in key moments during the film, and it serves as a call to action as well as a warning if we shed the symbiotic nature of our existence for futile individualism at the expense of the world we share with everyone and everything. It asks of us that should we find ourselves in a dire moment, what kind of human hands would you wish to be holding the wheel.

A startling sequence where President Erika Sloane (Angela Bassett, performing with her trademark gravitas), is faced with an...again, ahem...impossible choice filled me with honest existential dread should the same event be played out in our real lives through a series of situations that we, as humans, created for ourselves. Because of this, McQuarrie and Cruise have made a film that is not just made for popcorn buckets. it is a film that we are driven to interact with emotionally and viscerally, as we are all needing to find our inner Ethan Hunt to preserve whatever we feel is of importance in or world, for ourselves, for those we love and for those may never meet.

Christopher McQuarrie's "Mission: Impossible-The Final Reckoning" is a stupendous send off to an aging film series that has only continue to grow, blossom and ultimately build with wisdom while also outdoing itself over and again with all manner of thrills, chills and spills at a time when I know I have seen enough action sequences to fill lifetimes. 

Thank you to McQuarrie and without question, the relentless force that is Tom Cruise. You've done it, sir. Now...get some rest, sir. Maybe do a comedy next time? 

I don't think that's impossible of us to ask!