Reviews

It's gratifying to know that in a supposedly "dumbed down" America, a three-hour docudrama about a theoretical physicist and his atomic "project," along with a closed-door security clearance hearing and an open Senate confirmation hearing, both full of dialogue and minimal "action," is generating a huge, but deservedly so, box office. I found this film mesmerizing as the three hours seem to fly by for me. It has a very intelligent script, some masterful acting, and a focus on a fascinating, if enigmatic, character, i.e., Oppenheimer. The "father" of the atomic bomb was, indeed, a genius and generous-minded (on occasion), but also exhibited character flaws, and for such an adept administrator was also politically naïve.

The physicists behind the letter to FDR knew Germany had a head start in nuclear power (Germany under Otto Hahn was the first nation to split the atom), and it would have been a dangerous world indeed if Hitler had a monopoly on the atomic bomb, but those same physicists were reluctant to use it against Japan in the waning days of the Pacific War, and Oppenheimer shared some of their reservations. The subsequent guilt he felt was manifest in a great scene in the film where he meets with Truman and says he has blood on his hands. Truman barks to him: "no you don't; you built it but I authorized its use." Later in the film, where he's being humiliated at the security clearance hearing, his psychologically astute wife asks him why is he putting up with this in person...."you must need this humiliation as penance for your guilt."

Kudos to Nolan for not, at least explicitly, tying the use of the two bombs to Japan's surrender. In fact, except for one high level meeting where potential targets are discussed, there's almost zero real-time reference to Hiroshima, Nagasaki, or the battleship Missouri. It's almost folklore in U. S. history, but not elsewhere, that the two bombs were solely crucial in bringing about a surrender from a fanatical enemy, but although most of us Americans don't want to believe this, Soviet entry into the war against Japan (at our behest; see Yalta) was probably more crucial. The 5-year Soviet-Japan Neutrality Pact offered some hope to Japan's War Cabinet that a negotiated settlement could moderately soften the blow of unconditional surrender. When the Soviet Union invaded Manchuria that hope was irretrievably gone and the Japanese leadership was shocked. There are more references to Soviet entry into the war in the minutes of the War Cabinet than the the atomic bombs which were indeed appalling to the leadership. The Soviets invaded the Kuril Islands and had plans, if the war continued, of invading Japan's large northern island of Hokkaido. The War Cabinet wanted no parts of a Soviet, even if shared, occupation of any of the home islands.

Another historical issue is prompted by the film, and that is the veiled depiction that the physicists who were Jewish seemed more interested (if necessary) in using the bomb against Nazi Germany (who could blame them as emigres) but very reluctant to use it against Japan in the closing days. There's one pre-war scene where Oppenheimer meets Heisenberg in Germany, and as depicted, it's a fairly amiable meeting. Heisenberg's WW II impact is interesting. He apparently led the German nuclear effort which was subsequently found to be not very far along. Why, with the head start they had? Some explanations: (1) Speer did not allocate sufficient financial resources, (2) a negative opinion on Heisenberg is that he tried hard but made lots of mistakes, (3) a positive opinion on Heisenberg is that he purposely sabotaged the Nazi effort, and (4) theoretical physics in Nazi Germany was referred to as Jewish physics.

I distinctly remember while channel surfing back in the '80s coming across PTL and hearing Jim Bakker tell his viewers: "If you want to support God, and love him, and battle Satan, then please consider doubling or tripling your pledge so we can pay off the mortgage on...." (I believe on their Christian theme park, Heritage USA). At the time it sounded like sending money to the Bakker's to pay off their mortgage was like peddling indulgences in the 16th century to finance St. Peters. Accordingly, I was intrigued to see how (and why) the Bakkers built their PTL empire and how it collapsed, and so to the theatre I went. Jessica Chastain's performance was everything the critics said it was, although eventually her "Betty Boop" voice started.to grate on me. The film, of course, is a drama and not a documentary, so the PTL's fraud is not explicitly revealed although their avarice is readily apparent. All-in-all, a fairly absorbing film with a standout performance by Chastain.

I often like to know the underlying motivations of key characters, which you more easily get in literary works, and was disappointed to not really know whether the Bakker's "prosperity gospel" was a cover for their avarice or was initially prompted by their concern for the well-being of God's believers. For that matter, what insecurities drove Tammy Faye to cloud her appearance with a crazy assortment of wigs, tons of facial makeup, and.garishly made-up eyes? Yes, I know that Jim's one-time sexual partner was a Playboy model.

Some reviewers on this site have labeled this film as a typical Hollywood attack on Christianity, but the Bakker's PTL empire bears faint resemblance to the Christianity most of us are familiar with: a humble walk with God, a concern for the marginalized, prayers of gratitude and thanksgiving as well as prayers of supplication, and an immediate connection to your fellow congregants.

The actor who portrays Jerry Falwell.depicts him in a sinister fashion in this film, shrewd in a business sense but devoid of Christian charity, particularly for the gay community. (But then I remembered, and reviewed again, Falwell's claim after 9-11 that "the pagans.....the feminists, and the gays and lesbians....helped make this happen.") Tammy Faye, to her credit, believed that gays are also deserving of God's love, and the film depicts her support of gays, as well as of certain ED treatments, which make the male bosses of PTL very uncomfortable. And even Jim Bakker is given a moment of regretful insight when he tells Tammy while he's in prison: "Did we end up preaching that God doesn't love the folks who stayed poor?"

The Midway naval battle of 1942 has been called the greatest naval turning point since Trafalgar, and so director Emmerich and screenwriter Tooke decided to reprise the 1976 version with their own "accurate" version. If you want to see the Midway battle through the eyes and personalities of the pilots, then Midway '19 is your film; if you want to see the battle from the perspective of decision-making with incomplete information, i.e., the vantage point of command decision, then Midway '76 is the better film. While I salute the naval aviators for their heroism, the more interesting, and better, film for me is Midway '76 for its depiction of the dilemmas of command. Of course, I'm viewing Midway '76 with Charlton Heston and his son's role as somehow excised from the film!

Screenwriter Tooke asserts that every element in Midway '19 is factually and sequentially correct, and I believe he's right; however, the strategic context of the film and what the film decides to emphasize are out of balance. Halsey's foray into the Marshall Islands was of limited importance (except for morale). Doolittle's raid, however, alarmed the Japanese but Coral Sea (a tactical victory for them but a strategic defeat) confirmed their self-confidence: thus the unwieldy Midway plan. We see the bellicose Japanese Army and the more reserved Japanese Navy, but the Navy was no less expansion-minded, just more pragmatic.

My biggest complaint is how could the screenwriter give such an out-sized role to Admiral Halsey when he didn't even participate in the battle. I know Halsey is better known because of the press he cultivated (similar to MacArthur), but (soon to be) Admiral Spruance was the key commander who, using Nimitz's command to employ "calculated risk," made the critical decision to launch his planes immediately upon the initial sighting of the Japanese carrier fleet even though the distance to the sighting was almost 200 miles and the attacking force could not be coordinated. The ensuing destruction of the carriers confirmed his immediate decision to "turn the Enterprise into the wind." Instead, the film gives Spruance a brief and bland characterization. One historian has described Halsey as a "sailor's Admiral" and the cool and cerebral Spruance as an "Admiral's Admiral."

WW II, as reflected in Midway, will most likely be the only war when naval task forces with carriers as their striking forces never came in sight of each other during the battle. Here again I will favorably cite Midway '76 for its emphasis on the PBY reconnaissance patrols as being crucial to who locates the enemy first, while Midway '19 barely covers it in favor of more action-oriented air combat.

I found this film neither charming, plausible, nor particularly funny. While the script does contain some funny elements, their humor is blunted, at least too often for me, by Seth Rogen's excessive, over-the-top, and vulgar comedic style. While some reviewers on this site find him a funny actor, I do not, so it might be just a matter of taste. I do believe, however, that Charlize. Theron, an outstanding actress needs in the future tp pick her films and co-stars more judiciously.

Medieval theologians used to say that monasteries and abbeys were inundated with demons while the marketplace may have had only one or two; more were required to corrupt the incorruptible cloistered folks while the buyers and sellers in the marketplace were far easier targets. Of course, this speaks more of a distrust of economic activity, and a veneration of the religious life. With "The Nun" however, we have an abbey of nuns, in Romania no less, that has definitely been corrupted by evil. I'm not familiar with the "Conjuring Universe" franchise, nor am I a frequent viewer of horror films like some reviewers on this site, but "The Nun" was reasonably well done, had the appropriately gloomy sets, and had a pervasively ominous atmosphere. True, there were logic pitfalls in the plot, and the "Frenchie" character was somewhat anomalous, but I enjoyed this movie.

Admittedly, cliches abound in this film. We have somber music, a darkly-lit abbey, fleeting, indistinct images (to heighten our imagination), superstitious, frightened townspeople (not unlike the usual peasants), an abbey that totally locks up at night and stays that way until sunrise, Latin incantations, and the usual revelation at the end that maybe the evil is not completely vanquished after all. We find these cliches often in horror filmmaking because, let's face it, they work (again and again) for most of us. One cliche I wouldn't mind being altered is the "character," both physical and spiritual, of the evil demon(s). Instead of physically repulsive creatures possessed of violent fury, why not have an evil being who is coldly austere, strictly self-contained, totally amoral, and cunningly manipulative. Now he / she would be dangerous in a different way, not unlike Satan and his temptations.

Red Hollywood is an engrossing bit of both history and cinematic history that starts with progressive-leftist-themed films in the 1930s and WW II years, and ends with the reaction to those films, especially the filmmakers associated with them, during the so-called "Red Scare" of the late 40s and early 50s. It seems that many creative sorts in Hollywood, especially screenwriters but some directors as well, were radicalized by the economic turmoil of the Depression-era 1930s, and moved to the left , or moved further to the left, politically. Many became card-carrying communists and many more became "fellow travelers." Their films had a collectivist slant, e.g., embracing communal sharing among working women during the housing shortage of WW II, or had a pro-labor slant (endorsing the strikers' position), or took the position of the Republicans during the Spanish Civil War, or generally took the side of the racially or economically oppressed. Their films also strove to reveal class cleavages in a presumably (ideologically) class-free America.

And then we come to the WW II films, particularly "Song of Russia" and "Mission to Moscow," which were propaganda vehicles, at FDR's request, to solidify American public opinion behind our Soviet ally. Mission, in particular, portrays Stalin as an avuncular, pipe-smoking good ally, and goes so far as to justify his Nazi-Soviet non-aggression pact of 1939, even though (ironically enough) it drove many anti-fascist Communists to leave the party in 1939-1940. Unfortunately, many of the folks involved in these films were blacklisted after the war when HUAC and McCarthyism pressured the studios.

I understand that one of the producers of "The Best Years of our Lives" (1946) claimed a few years later that it couldn't have been made under the current anti-communist atmosphere. I'm assuming he was referring to: (1) the banker ready to lend money to returning GIs with no collateral but good character (too socialistic), and (2) the utter, and physical, refutation of the guy who claims "we fought on the wrong side," i.e., the real enemy was the Soviet Union. Thus, it was noteworthy for me to see how often "left-themes" crept into films during this later period, even through the early 50s , including films and scenes deploring racial and religious prejudice. Of course, deploring racial and religious prejudice shouldn't be a left-right "divider" but the left has taken the lead on these issues in our history, particularly on civil rights.

Some of these earnest leftists have apparently not discerned the sweep of economic history. The film ends with Abraham Polonsky, a blacklisted film director, saying near the end of his life that "capitalism is crime." What a silly remark; but I still love his "Force of Evil."

I watched this documentary based on the recommendation of a national publication, and found it well-done, absorbing, and critically important to democratic politics. True, it's not like, say, a nature documentary with exciting visual scenes, but is essentially a series of revealing interviews with lawyers and politicians, and a few journalists. The film effectively uses local politics in Montana to depict the erosion of democracy from unrestrained campaign finance, particularly from front groups who serve to hide the identity of national advocacy groups who are actually providing the cash, the "dark money" in the title. Montana has one of the more strict campaign finance laws, stemming as we learn from the days of the "Copper Kings" when Anaconda and other copper mining firms essentially purchased state legislators and newspapers, and we see in this film how state politicians, both Democrats and (moderate) Republicans, try to preserve this modest protection from the dreadful effects of the Citizens United court case which has unleashed torrents of money in our elections whose sources needn't be identified. The film ends with the conviction of a state legislator who has received large amounts of campaign funds and advice from out-of-state groups that, in a hidden manner, front for "right-to-work" (i.e., anti-labor union) advocacy groups.

Some politically conservative national observers who I respect claim the Citizens United case removed restraints on "free speech" in the political arena imposed on corporations and trade groups (and labor unions), allowing them to use as much of their resources as they desire to influence (i.e., engage in "free speech") elections and legislation. I firmly believe that too much money in politics, especially from hidden sources, is anti-democratic and makes political decision-making beholden to the "donor class." The Koch brothers, for example, have many avenues for advocacy (free speech); their Americans for Prosperity distributes all kinds of information around the U.S. and they acquired the Cato Institute, an influential Washington think tank. Why let them, conceivably, purchase legislators through unlimited campaign donations? Finally, as this film implicitly shows, campaign finance money has a greater impact on state and local elections since there's greater name recognition for candidates in U.S. Senate and national elections.

I've seen this film several times and have found it interesting, probably because it's not a typical western with a cookie-cutter western town and a good vs. evil conflict where the "good" (e.g., a US marshal, homesteaders) triumphs in the end over the "evil" (often greedy ranchers or railroad men). Reviewers on this site have misunderstood this film's "message" as a plea for non-violence and pacifism. Just because "Young Mr. Lincoln" Henry Fonda is the protagonist in this film doesn't mean the filmmakers are viewing his actions and words in a favorable light. I see the conflicted and cowardly Fonda character ("Blue") as more of an anti-hero in a similar fashion to the morally ambivalent "good" guys in film noir. The bad guy in this film, who twice terrorizes the town, is a truly malevolent force of nature and "Mayor Blue" as his adversary is a deeply flawed individual who is hesitant and non-confrontational. Now I admit that there are some scenes near the end that don't seem to "ring true," but our anti-hero at the end does seem to save the town even if in an indirect and hesitant way. There's no plea for non-resistance in this film; the filmmakers acknowledge in an indirect way that evil must be resisted, but they just happen to show its vanquishment at the hands of a flawed, hesitant and not particularly courageous individual.

I have to say that I loved the location that the film used for its setting of the hard scrabble town in the film's title. It looked like a truly God-forsaken place on the treeless high plains at the economic mercy of a distant mining camp and the camp's volatile payroll schedule. It was natural, therefore, that the town's few settlers were an interesting bunch of drifters and socially alienated individuals. Who else would want to settle there?

A guy who teaches film courses recently recommended this obscure (at least to me) film, and I'm glad he did because I found it entertaining, disturbing (in today's political climate), and prescient. An uneducated drifter, "Lonesome" Rhodes, is discovered by a small market radio producer and his folksy charm and humorous honesty catapult him into a media megastar, using the major media vehicles of 1950s America, radio and TV. His personality-driven popularity is such that he can move any sponsor's merchandise and eventually becomes a "kingmaker" backing a non-descript Senator for the Presidency where he's promised the new Cabinet post referred to in the title of my review. Most filmgoers will anticipate his downfall and it happens because he has no respect or empathy for his enthusiastic followers and it's eventually revealed to them. There's a brilliant scene in the film where, after his scathing and derisive comments about his followers is publicized, he takes an elevator from the top floor to the ground floor and with each floor button lit up on his descent to the ground (ground floor = a symbol for irrelevance?) we see scenes of his disappointed followers, from coal miners to housewives, expressing their lost faith in him. The elevator's descent mirrors the waning of his popular appeal.

Populism is much in the news these days. Some historical practitioners (or vehicles) of populism had a genuine faith in "the common sense of the common man" and relied on that faith in a respectful manner to do "the people's will." After all, it was Lincoln who said: "God must love the common man because he made so many of them." The "Great Commoner" William Jennings Bryan treated his agrarian followers with affection and respect. But other populists reflected the attitude of Lonesome Rhodes who says: "the people are even dumber than me, so I have to do their thinking for them." These populists have no respect nor affection for their followers but just use them for their own purposes and gratification, e.g., Huey Long who wanted to make "Every Man a King" or Mussolini who though every Italian wanted to be part of a new empire. But perhaps the strongest example of this negative form of populism will soon depart from 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, and who undoubtedly views his fervent base as "losers" and "suckers."

Woody Harrelson is a long way from his innocent character at the bar on "Cheers" in this very effective and absorbing portrayal of LBJ, a man born to wield power. The film covers LBJ's political career as it intertwines with JFK's career from 1960 to JFK's assassination in 1963, and then covers LBJ's assumption of power and ends with the historic Civil Rights Act of 1964. So, it's a snapshot of Johnson's political career omitting much of his Senate career and most of his Presidential years when Vietnam began to preoccupy him and then to destroy him. Unlike some reviewers, I don't have a problem with this focus; it makes for a manageable film time-wise, and allows for the filmmakers to give LBJ some needed historical vindication after he was seen inaccurately obstructing Martin Luther King and the Voting Rights Act of 1965 in "Selma."

The film is not a linear narrative but jumps back and forth in time between LBJ's Senate Majority Leader days, the Democratic Convention of 1960 and his Vice-President days with time-shortened segments of that fateful day in Dallas where he feels slighted in the motorcade, has Secret Service men jump to protect him, and emerges at Parkland Memorial Hospital as President. For me, this non-linear narrative with its careful editing worked. The dramatic events in Dallas are interwoven into the story of a politically powerful man rendered almost powerless (by assuming the Vice Presidency) and humbled (by JFK's minions) only to emerge yet even more powerful by an act of fate. (Historians are still trying to figure out why LBJ said yes to JFK's offer of the Vice Presidency, an offer that the film shows was made purely for electoral purposes.)

Political and historical aficionados will enjoy, or at least recognize, the arm-twisting and manipulative Johnson as Majority Leader, the visceral dislike between LBJ and Bobby Kennedy (Jack Valenti compared them to two mean junkyard dogs), and the tightrope Johnson walks between Senator Russell, his long-time mentor and leader of the southern (and segregationist) Democrats and the civil rights-oriented Kennedy Justice Department while he was Vice President. After the assassination Russell and his colleagues greet LBJ triumphantly as "finally, for the first time since before the Civil War we have a southerner to protect our way of life" (not sure this historically happened) but LBJ, to "fulfill JFK's legacy," transforms himself from a southern Senator to a President of all the people, and pushes hard for the Civil Rights bill and gets it enacted. It's been observed that JFK had a poor legislative record as a Senator while LBJ was "Master of the Senate;" perhaps it took a masterful political manipulator, as well as a groundswell of emotional support emanating from JFK's assassination, to get the historic bill into law. The irony is that, even though a higher percentage of Republicans voted for it than Democrats, the Democratic party as its sponsor, and as LBJ had foreseen, lost the south for two generations (and counting).

BTW, where do these conspiracy nuts come from. So LBJ was not only behind the murder of JFK, but of MLK and RFK and assorted others (see other reviews). And our source is that convicted felon Roger Stone!

I'm not a historical literalist when it comes to films based on historical events or characters so long as imagined scenes and events carry the drama forward and are not completely unfathomable or unfairly distort the record of historical characters (e.g., see LBJ in "Selma"). If you want a good historical account of Churchill's first weeks as PM, read John Lukacs' "Five Days in London: May 1940" but if you want a vivid and visually dramatic portrayal of Churchill during this crucial time, then watch "Darkest Hour." I was totally absorbed in this film knowing that a British negotiated peace in May 1940 totally alters the arc of world history going forward.

Gary Oldman is, of course, brilliant in his portrayal of Churchill, cigars and all, and the filmmakers did a great job recreating the House of Commons since they weren't allowed to use the real House, or at least its benches. Oldman's Churchill stammers a bit in this film which surprised me as I believed Churchill's verbal fluency was such that American diplomats marveled at his effortless eloquence at Tehran and Yalta. As for the much-maligned underground (subway) scene where the aristocrat PM solicits the opinions of common Brits on whether to fight on or not, it worked for me. In the midst of a peace movement within his war cabinet, he had to solicit the fighting mood of everyday Brits; this was an effective dramatic scene. Would you rather have the filmmakers have him reading poll results at 10 Downing Street?

Another thing that makes "Darkest Hour" work for me is that the "peace" group within the war cabinet, the "antagonists" so to speak (specifically Chamberlain and Halifax) were given compelling arguments to counter Churchill's belligerence. They wanted to see what kind of negotiated terms Britain might get from Hitler. After all, we don't know definitively to this day why Hitler held up his panzers before Dunkirk for several days: was he getting anxious about the speed of the German advance or did he admire the British Empire so much that he could live, for a time, with its preservation?

So, on Christmas night I see there's another remake of "A Christmas Carol" on FX, and so I decide to get my annual "feel-good" dosage of Dickens's familiar scenes with the cheerful, satisfying ending. But I'm not very far into this version when I realize that this is very, very different treatment of the Dickens story from all the other versions with which I'm familiar....but different in an absorbing and interesting way, a way that touches upon psychological and even philosophical issues not present in other versions. It is a dark, somber treatment of Scrooge's life (no party scenes at the Fezziwigs and at his nephew's) , and more horrific both for what he experiences as a child and what he dishes out as an adult as a kind of "vulture" capitalist. For starters, Scrooge as a child is no longer in the boys home because his father blames him for the death of his wife in childbirth, but he's there because his father has in, effect, sold him to a molesting headmaster.

It's been said (humorously) that "a miser makes a rotten contemporary but an excellent ancestor," and previous versions have shown Scrooge as a miserly, grouchy curmudgeon, whereas the FX version depicts a cold, calculating, truly evil misanthrope. His arrogance and cynicism make him not just want to get an edge over people but to destroy them as well, spiritually and morally as well as financially. And this is where the film goes off the track so to speak. His truly evil nature and deeds make him "beyond redemption" so to speak. We see him resisting the message the ghosts confront him with for a longer time than other Scrooge's, and we don't see the cathartic transformation that other Scrooge's experience with the departure of the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come. Instead, we see a kind of self-discovery, a realization of the evil he has done to people previously unrecognized by him (as he counted his profits), and so egregious that he acknowledges that he's beyond forgiveness. He does not seek forgiveness, but commits to living a modest and humble life thereafter.

The "feel-good" mood is never gained if he's truly beyond redemption. Could he have redeemed himself by distributing his wealth among a variety of charities? How do we balance the positive benefit of that with the pain he caused over almost a lifetime? On the other hand, the Christian says repenting and asking God for forgiveness can absolve one from a lifetime of sin, i.e., no one is ever truly "lost." Does that work for even Heinrich Himmler or Adolph Eichmann? Do his horrendous experiences as a child mitigate how we evaluate the evil he has done? After all, defense lawyers cite childhood experiences as mitigating experiences all the time. This is a film that I'm not likely to see at Christmas time again because it lacks the joyful redemption of the Dickens story, but I'm glad I watched it, and not just for the outstanding production values and superb acting.

Okay, I agree with a number of reviewers on this site that not a lot of dramatic action happens in this film, but for me at least, it's an absorbing depiction of a week in the life of an "ordinary" bus driver; that is, an "ordinary" bus driver who writes minimalist poetry in the moments afforded him while driving his bus. Ralph Kramden he is not. There is a certain "poetry" in this visual depiction of the day-by-day routine of an honest and likable workingman as he walks the same route to the bus depot, gets the same complaints from the despatcher, and walks the same evening route while walking his dog, not to mention the nightly beer at the same bar. Routines can admittedly stultify us and rob us of stimulating milieus for creativity, but they can also, as in "Paterson," provide the stability for creative effort, in this case writing poetry. And then again, the varied "stimulation" our driver does get is from the conversations he overhears on the bus from failed sexual escapades to European politics.

An appealing feature of this film is the likability of just about all of the characters including the driver's loving wife. This may deter dramatic conflict, except for the estranged couple in the bar, but does make for the film's "easy going" feeling. In addition, I liked the fact that, as a multi-racial film, everybody seemed to get along well together. The white bus driver frequents a black bar where he's welcome, and provides encouragement to an aspiring black rapper who's appreciative. The Indian despatcher provides some light comic relief, and our bus driver poet and a Japanese lover of poetry have an amiable discussion on poetry at the end of the film. If real life cold only imitate art!

...So says the Jesuit missionary to his psychologically astute Japanese "inquisitor" who threatens him with torture and death in Martin Scorsese's overlong but compelling film "Silence." The Jesuit can endure torture and a horrible death for the sake of his Savior but can he endure the terrible suffering of the innocent whose agonies are prolonged due to his unyielding faith in his God....or is it a misplaced need for establishing a church in an alien land....or even a reflection of unconscious spiritual pride amid the honest weakness of the "apostasizers?" The inquisitor asks for an overt rejection of the Christian God by the imprisoned Jesuit whose journey to Japan was prompted by news of an earlier missionary's apostasy (renunciation of the faith). The Jesuit along with another priest have made the perilous journey for the salvation of the apostate's soul and to renew the missionary effort. Will he succumb to the same terrible dilemmas as tortured the apostate's?

Scorsese's film is replete with religious and psychological themes that haunt us. What is the meaning of suffering; can we allow others to suffer to demonstrate (or confirm to ourselves?) our boundless faith; does faith supersede all other human criteria at all times; can love of God be separated from love of man; whose "truth" prevails: the Christian "truth" in a Buddhist land, or the Buddhist "truth" amid Christian interlopers? I'm reminded that Mother Teresa, who did holy work amid the poor and dying of Calcutta, has been criticized for not allowing painkillers to be given to the suffering and dying in her care, because suffering, in her judgment, was spiritually good for them. While that may indeed be right, is that her decision to make?

Part of the power of the church's appeal, and part of the theological problems with the nature of that appeal, is the ordinary person's amazement and respect for the amount of agonies the church's "holiest" representatives will endure to substantiate their faith. While briefly touched upon in "Silence," and not remotely on the same level as martyrdom, I'm reminded that some historians have commented that the clerical power of the Roman Catholic Church is reinforced by priestly celibacy, i.e., these men are stronger than us, they can subdue their bodily appetites unlike the rest of us.

"Arrival" depicts the arrival of multiple spaceships that land at various places on Earth (including Montana), and the resulting attempts of each nation where the ships have landed to communicate with the extraterrestrials and ascertain their intentions. The U.S. military authorities hire a Professor of Linguistics and a Professor of Theoretical Physics to identify the vocabulary and meaning of the aliens' strange language of complex visual configurations, and the linguist (Amy Adams) becomes the center of focus in this film. "Arrival" is decidedly not a "space opera" as it is a thoughtful, well-researched exploration of communication "mediums" between living beings who know nothing of each other. "The day the Earth Stood Still" (1951) took the easy route by having the lone alien communicate in English (presumably picked up by monitoring radio traffic); "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" used musical notes to get the terrestrials and extraterrestrials in synch; Carl Sagan's "Contact" used a repeating sequence of prime numbers to signify a living intelligence (It is fun to note that the Voyager spacecraft launched in 1977 contained the "Voyager Golden Records" that contained, with much input from Sagan, mathematical formulas like the derivation of Pi, plus chemical structures, not to mention 55 ancient and modern languages).

The Aliens do not apparently use a phonetic alphabet as their written language, featured in the film, is distinct from their spoken language. I have three final comments to make about this film: (1) I give intellectual heft to this film by its invoking the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis, namely that the structure of a language determines how you think and experience the world. The Aliens' language moves in circles and thus they have a circular, not linear, view of time. The irony is that this hypothesis is now discredited by Noam Chomsky and modern linguists who argue that all languages have a common grammatical structure. But of course, who's to say how our extraterrestrials' brains evolved? (2) Why do these films, including "Arrival," have military types who think early 21st century weaponry is sufficient to destroy creatures who are capable of interstellar travel? (3) For that matter, what on earth do these aliens, presumably so far advanced beyond our capabilities, think we could do for them in 3,000 years?

This is a fascinating documentary of Roy Cohn, a New York power broker and uber lawyer, whose adversary, legal or otherwise, you didn't want to be. We see some of the history of the 20th century as Cohn was involved in the Rosenberg's trial ("I would have pulled the switch if they'd let me"), the Army-McCarthy hearings which ushered the downfall of McCarthyism (Cohn was chief Counsel to Senator McCarthy), and numerous mob trials, including the notorious John Gotti, where - no surprise - Cohn pleaded for the mobsters. The film shows an earlier interview with Cohn where this legal barracuda says: "in our adversary system, the lawyer's job is to win, and to win he should try anything that works" (paraphrase). Accordingly, when a certain landlord and his son were sued by the Justice department for racial discrimination, they hired Cohn who promptly counter-sued the Feds for $100 M. This was the lesson Cohn gave the landlord's young son: you never give in, you never admit you're wrong, you go on the offensive and attack your adversaries in any way you can.

I happened to remember seeing "Citizen Cohn," a docudrama (HBO - 1992), where Cohn's confrontational manner was fostered by his wealthy, hard-bitten mother who dominated her weaker husband. This documentary, on the other hand, seems to emphasize Cohn's mother doting on him as well as his affection for her. I'm no psychologist but perhaps Cohn's aggressive manner was fostered by his absurd attempts to hide his homosexuality, when everyone knew it, up to his death from AIDs (which he called liver cancer). Another fascinating item from this doc was how this aggressive, seemingly unlikable man had scores of friends among New York society. I guess power is a seductive agent.

I have to mention before my closing paragraph in this review that the editing and research in this film were outstanding.

Cohn cloaked himself as a great American patriot which is hard to square with his famous comment (also depicted in the film) that: "my goal is to die with no money and owing the IRS millions." Another self-styled patriot, who's a friend neither of taxes or revealing how much he pays, gave us the title of this film, since when this political "personality" was confronted with the Mueller probe and was displeased with the aggressiveness of his lawyers (Rudy Giuliani!), he is supposed to have said: "where's my Roy Cohn?" Obviously, this individual mentored by the notorious Roy Cohn, resides at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.

Quick, how many movies are there about mathematicians? Not many...equations usually don't make for great drama or comedy. We did have "A Beautiful Mind" in 2001 which used about one minute of film time on John Nash's game theory, and we did see the development of an aerodynamic equation to help the boys find their rocket in the woods in "October Sky" (1999). Accordingly, kudos go to the filmmakers of "Hidden Figures" for bringing the story of these NASA mathematicians, who happened to be young black women, to our attention, and highlighting their computational skills. And of course it helps, as far as the viewer's interest is concerned, that the math was employed at NASA during the initial critical years of the space race between the U.S. and the Soviet Union, and where the Soviet Union had the early lead from Sputnik and Yuri Gagarin (first human in space).

These three black women mathematicians / engineers are indeed remarkable for their time when educational opportunities were much less available for women and for blacks, particularly in technical fields where suspicion reigned. We see in the film some of the social impediments they faced from unhelpful colleagues and organizational barriers. There's some doubt in my mind from what I've read of these women's experiences that the filmmakers have accurately portrayed the social and physical handicaps confronting these women. It seems that overdid these handicaps to (understandably) provide more drama to what otherwise might have been just a technical story. I don't have a problem with a degree of dramatic license if it adds a degree of dramatic tension to a story that might otherwise be too bland for non-technical-minded folks, but "Hidden Figures" overdid it a bit. NASA was a technical organization, and while it may have harbored individuals with personal prejudices, institutionally it was more of a meritocratic organization. After all, it relied on a ex-Nazi, Werner Von Braun, to help build the fabulous Saturn 5 Rocket.

Perceptions and personal perspective are everything it seems. I'm amazed of how many reviews on this site decry the portrayal of white people in this film. There wasn't a lot of overt, hostile racism (if any) and suspicious and recalcitrant co-workers are redeemed in the end by their emerging respect for the black women mathematicians. On the other side some critics have written very unfavorably about the "white savior" complexion of the film, e.g., the white supervisor (Kevin Costner) comes to the rescue by chopping down the "Whites Only" sign over the nearest ladies room; a sign that in real life the woman mathematician simply ignored with no apparent consequences. Perhaps the filmmakers struck a happy balance, and there's no doubt that, commercially at least, they were "redeemed" by a box office of $236 M on a budget of $25 M!

"Money Monster" is essentially a silly film where a struggling truck driver who has no savings inherits $60,000 from his mother's estate and invests ALL of it in a stock recommended by a stranger, i.e., the stock picking TV star of the show "Money Monster" ably played by George Clooney (a loose proxy for James Cramer of CNBC's "Mad Money"?). In the subsequent week the stock goes to virtually nothing and the (extremely) angry investor storms the show's studio and holds the show's host and assorted others hostage with a gun and a bomb until he gets some answers from the stock's executives. I'll let other reviewers admit their spoiler content and tell what happens in this hostage situation, except to say it gets increasingly nonsensical.

The film uses the aggrieved investor (terrorist?) as the catalyst to confront and indict "Wall Street" for its greed and chicanery. But just who might we include in the "greedy" camp? How about all those investors, including perhaps this one, who want a big return over a quick period? This reviewer hears ads all the time for investments "previously reserved for the big guys" that offer "tax-free, double-digit returns with no risk." I simply smile and walk away remembering the old adage that "if it sounds too good to be true, it is too good to be true." Anyway, the hostage situation in the TV studio affords the filmmakers more dramatic license as the cameras and sound stay focused on the harrowing situation, and the hostage-taker and his captive are filmed and broadcast to all the bars in the country as they, and others, try to ascertain what happened to the $800 M that disappeared from IBIS Clear Capital's (the stock) market cap, presumably all or most of it. An audit by public accountants or an SEC investigation would presumably be a more effective, but more prosaic, means of ascertaining this information, but of course less interesting to filmmakers, and audiences.

We discover that the villain in this film, the CEO of IBIS, made a failed $800 M investment in an African mining venture based on a miner's strike ending. As far as I can determine there was nothing illegal or corrupt that he did (except for the attempted bribe of the union's leader), but he's certainly guilty of stupidity and arrogance for essentially betting the company on one investment beset by a strike that he thought (hoped?) would be short-lived, and for not vetting it with his BOD and senior managers. And perhaps for misrepresentation to shareholders if he didn't reveal his company's plans. Since IBIS's value was near zero, then presumably an $800 M losing investment was initiated by an $800 M market cap firm. That's a concentrated investment, and not very smart; but if his wealth is tied up with IBIS, then he suffers too.

And then at the end of the film we hear the voice of Robert Reich decrying investing in the "Wall Street casino." Let's remind ourselves that gambling at the casino is a "zero sum game" in that what I win, the house loses, and vice versa, whereas investing is, and has been, a "positive sum game" in that investors, in the aggregate, earn positive returns over the long-term so long as the economy continues to grow.

"Serengeti Rules" is an interesting exploration of some local, and varied, ecosystems complemented beautifully by some enthralling cinematography. The film covers 5-6 biologists (ecologists?) who seem to specialize in certain local ecosystems, e.g., creeks, marine intertidal habitats, African savannah, and explores how they identified what they called a "keystone species" for each local ecosystem. A "keystone species" is one whose absence, or diminished numbers, in a local habitat dismantles the entire structure and viability of that ecosystem due to its varied impact on the interrelationships of the multiple life forms in that local environment. The filmmakers (actually the scientists in the film) tell us that it was originally believed that the animals at the very apex of the food chain were the key species ensuring the viability of an ecosystem through their effects on the symbiotic relationships. But these researchers found that that was not necessarily so. Indeed, the wildebeests on the Serengeti were eventually discovered to be the "keystone species" on that savannah; their diminished numbers adversely affected the numbers and viability of all other species including plant life. This research could be painstaking; the researcher who identified the otter as the keystone species in intertidal marine ecosystems (Washington state) proceeded by eliminating each of 11 species one at a time from the ecosystem and observing the effects on whether the local ecosystem continued to flourish or declined in viability.

Another interesting feature to this documentary was that the research was done many decades ago, but the filmmakers were able to bring on film each of these scientists and we hear them reminisce about how their discoveries initially confounded them but then led to a new perspective on the interaction among species in local environments. A well-worth seeing nature documentary.

I must begin by saying that Ethan Hawke's character in "First Reformed" is NOT a priest, as a number of reviewers have written on this site. His collar is not typical of a Roman Catholic priest; he's been married and divorced and had a son; and you'd be extremely unlikely to find a Catholic priest presiding at a church called "First Reformed." As most of you know, he's a minister of a Protestant church (Dutch Reformed).

Anyway, the film is an absorbing, albeit slow-paced, depiction of the spiritual odyssey of a troubled pastor at a small, historic church in upstate New York. He's divorced, feels guilt over his only son's death in Iraq (because he counseled him to serve there), is in ill-health and is drinking, and his church, bereft of members, is financially dependent on a mega-church, the aptly-named Abundant Life which seems to preach a prosperity sort of message. I was fortunate to have seen Bergman's "Winter Light" at a local art house only weeks before seeing "First Reformed" at home, and the parallels are striking as director Paul Schrader readily acknowledges. There's a crucial difference, though, in that the Lutheran pastor in Bergman's film flat out tells his troubled congregant that he can't help him and angrily confesses his atheism while the pastor in Schrader's film earnestly and prayerfully provides insight to his congregant who's very upset by what humans have done to the earth and does not want his pregnant wife's child to be born into this polluted world. Rev. Toller may at times show shades of agnosticism but it's my perception that his oft-alluded "crisis of faith" has more to do with a loss of faith with social institutions, malign influences on churches (he finds that polluting firms financially sponsor the parent Abundant Life church), and, in his view, the success of churches that preach that faith leads to (material) abundance; for example, he replies to an earnest young Christian who asks him his thoughts about a person unemployed for over six months to which he replies that "God does not promise prosperity" for which he's berated by this eager member of the Abundant Life church. The film visually contrasts the austere, traditional church of Rev. Toller with the huge, well-lit amphitheater of the more market/consumer-friendly Abundant Life church.

The film repeatedly asks if God will forgive us for how we've treated the Earth with pollution and man-made global warming. In effect, the film provides a spiritual meaning to environmentalism. While Genesis may have given man dominion over the earth, Christian churches increasingly see pollution and environmental degradation as a sin on God's creation and on our earthly home. Evangelical churches have called it "creation care" (although some evangelical churches have reportedly rebuked their Pastors for "environmental preaching" because they associate environmental concerns with left-wing causes). "First Reformed" nicely blends the spiritual focus of a social / political cause with the spiritual angst of a likable, well-meaning, but deeply troubled Pastor.

I've knocked two stars off what is a very good film because the ending is extreme under certain interpretations but more understandable under other, more speculative interpretations.

I watched this film the other day on DVD (what theatre would show it?) and after 98 minutes of increasingly repellent imagery and dialogue as we watch a very unfunny and hostile "comedian" bring his "comedy show" to various low-end venues in the California desert, I asked myself: what's the purpose...the point...of this strange film. Some of the reviewers on this site, perhaps more perceptive than me (or perhaps with more unrestrained over-imagination) profess to see existential despair or elements of Greek Tragedy or flashes of Beckett's Waiting for Godot-type dark humor in Entertainment. I confess that I see nothing of redeeming value, meaning or metaphorical inference in this dark and unfunny saga of a low-end and misanthropic comic, who goes out of his way to look physically unappealing, and whose "comic" material is both viscerally obscene and rabidly hostile, and whose reaction to bored or disappointed audience members is a stream of abuse directed to them that is so scatological and vulgar as to stretch the meaning of these words. It may sound potentially amusing, but it's not!

You wonder if there's an inside joke that's behind the making of this film, as if the filmmakers set out to "fool" an audience with vulgarities and repulsive images without an organizing meaning. One reviewer on this site described this film as "defiantly unpleasant" for which paid critics in the public media have praised the filmmakers for "boldness" and "daring." But again, to what purpose? Perhaps the film's title, "Entertainment", was meant to convey a kind of harsh irony as the film is a kind of anti-entertainment which goes out of its way to depict characterizations, comic material, and the overall "story line" in an unappealing and decidedly non-engaging way. Perhaps the film is showing us, by being a deliberately unentertaining and at times repulsive film, that we can't anesthetize ourselves from life's dilemmas through delightful but ultimately superficial entertainment. Who knows?