Reviews

Tom Wolfe wrote a great novel of the growth of Atlanta into the powerhouse of the south, filled with development, finance, politics, racial division, corruption, and a bigger-than-life character. David Kelley turned it into a confusing mess of unlikely scenes, preposterous plotting and a stupid ending and then relied on Jeff Daniels to overact his way into a watchable mini-series. Didn't work, even with a salvation-style transformation of some of the characters and courtroom procedures that were entirely unbelievable. I watched because I read the novel years ago. I wish I'd stopped then and that Daniels, a fine actor, had walked away.

This is like a movie made to include all the banter in the writers' room for a sitcom. Like, "Hey, what if the Seinfeld character gets out of his car and he's rolling it barefoot like Fred Flintstone's car," one writer would say, and another writer would say, "and he's got a big rock in the back for a brake like an anchor." And the room chuckles and instead of just moving on, they put it in the show. The cameos of actors and comics are fun. The old brand names are cool, except no one under 60 will understand many of them. It's silly, cartoonish, and basically pointless. See it as a lark that got produced because Seinfeld is Seinfeld. Throw your critical standards to the wind and guess who's playing the Walter Cronkite character.

The idea is good: Americans are so detached, so selfish, so racist, so suspicious of conspiracy and so fragile that they cannot cope with a mysterious threat. The problem is that the four adults and two children involved never actually come face-to-face with death. Pretty hard to bond with a character who is desperate because his GPS doesn't work or because she's freaked out by some woodsy animals. That's the extent of the thrills in the film, even though the weaknesses of their character are broadly displayed. One real red flag. Another character chooses self-interest, paranoia and tribalism over compassion, decency and community. I suspect the viewers who trashed this film did so because they agreed with him.

Who would be so ridiculous as to commit a serious crime to pay a fine for a serious crime? Fishermen, it seems. The point here, though, is to show the romantic pull of a life of fishing and, perhaps more importantly, the inexhaustible love of a father for his son. Despite the critics, the dialogue and the acting was fine, especially by Clayne Crawford as the chief bad guy and Tommy Lee Jones as an old fisherman. It's got the Taylor Sheridan touch, too. Not a great film, but the scenes of the New Bedford harbor and the handling of a catch of scallops added to a story replete with plot holes and characters who should know better.

Here's a show that follows basic sitcom rules but breaks new ground in characters and situations. Flanagan's Helen Tudor-Fisk is a mess, but a strong mess. In an office filled with incompetence, she goes along to get along. The secondary plot involving her father and his partner is a great diversion. The show combines universal office humor with distinctive Aussie flavor. The cast, including the recurring incidental characters, keep each episode moving fast. I can't wait to see season three. Hoping Fisk doesn't suffer from third-season letdown. Let's see some more kooky humor from the talent down under.

The premise: she's a career foreign service officer who gets an ambassadorship. Her husband is a former ambassador who is a loose cannon who makes life and work difficult for her. Whatever the situation, that's the story. In every episode the embassy staff has to deal with the couple's problems. So do intelligence officers, state department ministers, etc. Perhaps the story line will move forward. So far, the only thing that's moved forward is the severity of the combat between the ambassador and her husband. There are some laughs, but it starts getting tedious quickly. I don't know yet whether I have patience to find out.

Truly Bob Weir has a colorful story, starting with The Merry Pranksters at age 16 and continuing through three decades of the Dead. Avid Deadheads will love this film. Unfortunately for this fan, Bob concentrates on his role as Jerry's buddy, the chick magnet of the band and the vegan spiritualist survivor. Other than Garcia's health problems, he glosses over conflict within The Dead, including efforts of other band members to dismiss him and Pigpen as musically weak. There's not much music in the film and the band's change in musical direction hardly gets mentioned. It's okay; The Dead was and will always be special, but this documentary doesn't fill the bill.

At the start of this documentary a calm, conversational Reggie Jackson says he's nervous about the film because he has no control over it. He needn't have worried. It's more a story about his career-long pursuit of diversity in baseball, all the way to the ownership level, than about his good guy/ bad guy reputation as a player. He's surrounded in this effort by friends, including Henry Aaron, Vida Blue, Rollie Fingers and Julius Erving. No contemporaries from his Bronx Zoo Yankee years are interviewed, so we don't get differing points of view about Reggie's clashes with Thurman Munson, Billy Martin, Mickey Rivers and others.

Reggie credits several players on the Oakland Athletics for helping him withstand mid-70s racism, but fails to mention coaches, veteran players or mentors who improved his game other than Joe DiMaggio. The facts about slow acceptance of Black players, managers, coaches and executives are true. It's also fair to say that Reggie confessed to being too aggressive at times in the media. Still, the lack of critics in this two-hour project unfortunately make it more boring than it should be.

This is a show so clever, so over-the-top, so carefully cast that a viewer could be excused for missing the point. So here's the point: people some see as losers are strivers fighting to prove to us and themselves that the opportunity to achieve the American dream is real. They fight racism, cynicism, tribalism, jingoism, ignorance and plain evil to demonstrate that the road to success exists, even if it means working in a swamp. Craig Robinson plays the innocent believer working alongside an earnest immigrant and despite his cagey but jaded brother. A lot of the four-letter language that writers are wearing out, but a classic satire with an important message.

Here's a spy story that gives away nothing and maintains tension to the end. I watched the film with interest because the book, while engrossing, was full of conversations and inner thoughts removed from action. The writers succeeded in compressing the plot without violating the heart of the book. They did it without car chases or explosions, relying on a good cast to deliver the cruel conflict between emotion and duty. Chris Pine exceeded my expectations in his role and the director managed the mixture of real-time story, flashbacks and dreams without getting lost in the weeds. A worthwhile project.

Like many other viewers, I enjoyed the first couple of episodes. By the 4th episode, I wondered where the funny went. Segal seems to be straining to substitute physical humor for good writing. None of the characters are likable and all speak in an F-word chorus. Every episode recycles jokes. I'm sure the audience is shrinking. With this cast, I expected far better. I thought the Apple brand would maintain a higher standard. Certainly a waste of Harrison Ford, who by Episode 4 appears to be phoning in his role. This is a low budget production, but I'd guess in the end they won't make more than the 10 episodes.

Even with its flaws, this work by Novak left me with thoughts that may take me some time to resolve. Yes, Novak gave himself too many speeches. Yes, the low budget clearly shows through. But the central issue - whether the softish, self-obsessed culture of the East is superior to the hard, direct, sometimes lawless independent culture of the West - is rendered moot by the notion of family. Why this is categorized by IMBD as comedy eludes me. This movie is a stop on the road to tolerance, understanding and justice. It offers strong performances by actors we know and actors we may never see again. It shows us a somewhat cartoonish view of Texans and a jaundiced view of New Yorkers, but delivers the key sequence: 1-4-3-5.

I'm so glad everyone involved with this film had such a good time making it, secure in the belief that the allure of celebrity would overcome over-the-top acting, outlandish sets, hackneyed twists and an obvious solution. So far, the Knives Out company has made Ten Little Indians on a Train and now Ten Little Indians on an Island. Next? Ten Little Indians in a Ski Resort? Fan reaction has proven them right. Here's a murder mystery with little tension, little fear (even though there's too much screaming) and little plausibility. I won't spoil the show, so if what you want is to see the current crop of headliners wear costumes and read some lines, here you go.

The film presumes to demand respect as a warning about threats to democracy. At the same time, the pratfalls, cartoonish bad guys and goofy situations tell the viewer not to take it seriously. Amsterdam does not succeed as parody, allegory or metaphor. It mainly succeeds in taking excellent actors and using them to confuse and bore the audience. With an hour left, I took a break to assess whether my life would be less full if I walked away. I walked away. I don't know where this production went off the rails but it's a shame that this important story was wasted on celebrity and cheap stunts. Too bad.

We started this movie at the suggestion of the NYT, but after about 25 minutes we looked at each other and said, "Haven't laughed yet." Kristen Bell is cute and Allison Janney has her comedy chops, but this mish-mash is so disjointed and so reliant on cheap sex situations that we gave up and turned on the news. None of the characters were sympathetic and the opening sequences were so truncated and unclear that we found ourselves wondering who was who and why they mattered. It's too bad. The premise seemed to have great possibilities. Maybe it gets better by the end but where we stopped it seemed pointless.

About Season One: The Paramount series led me to read the Joe Pickett books. Now I struggle to get through a TV episode. I understand making his wife a vocal substitute for Joe's inner thoughts, but too much takes away the central game warden saga. I understand inventing a rich, arrogant, evil family can help continuity for a series, but it limits the introduction of new, interesting characters, a hallmark of the books. I'll stick with the series for a bit, but if Paramount applies the treatment it gave to 1883, I'll turn off the TV and focus on the books. Season 2: Enter the Consultants. Make Joe more sappy! Make Marybeth more tough! Turn Missy into a soft-hearted lounge singer! Bring idiotic Maclanahan back! After 3 Season 2 episodes, I think I'm done.

This may sound like faint praise, but I sincerely congratulate the writers and producers for checking off every human rights and prejudice box in the political wish list while still offering some aerospace action (including a few bits that aren't entirely preposterous) in this series. I've seen only the first season so take what I think with that in mind.

The technique served, I believe, to offer something to every corner of the viewer spectrum. NASA cast in the light of misogyny, racial bigotry, homosexual bigotry, Vietnam PTSD, immigration injustice and political expediency is hard to juggle, but i think they succeeded.

Women's causes lead the parade. As far as the space flight material goes, it's fun and probably is no kinder to NASA and political management than it ought to be. I'll try the second season.

Season 1: The problem in converting Reacher from print to video is that so much takes place in Reacher's head. He observes everything and his judgments are based on what he sees and what he's done in life. Add the fact that he doesn't talk much and it's tough on writers and directors. Through the first season the crew improved the character. The star's not a great actor, but he got more into the role as the series proceeded. His best skill is delivering Reacher's occasional lines of dry wit, best displayed with the Chief Detective. Otherwise a satisfying sally through action-packed protection of the little guys. Season 2: The beefed-up Reacher looks like a cartoon character. He's no longer a loner, but the leader of a three-person team. No more dry wit. Just a goofy smile once in a while to deliver a completely out of character line. Painful to watch.

I stand by my earlier review about the quality of the locations and the acting. But the story line has been hacked. What was supposed to be a tale of immigrants experiencing the West on the Oregon Trail now has essentially two characters, Elsa the lovestruck teen and Shea the sobbing old man. Where are the immigrants? Where are the beautiful vistas? Tim McGraw and Faith Hill are vestigial characters. So long, partner. Happy trails.

Enjoyable if you don't expect too much. Complaints: post-apocalyptic family living way off the grid somehow has clean clothes, a house with glass windows and cool hairstyles. Oh, and recorded music. Narrator's voice sounds nothing like Darwin would as an adult. Unclear what drones actually do. Yet the film gives us decent acting, limited but attractive locations and intriguing tech. And a single clear message: fear can imprison everyone. Not just Darwin but the family in the woods, too. I respect a low-budget production that makes its case succinctly without gore or horror.

How do you make a movie that exposes our culture's shallowness, obsession with celebrity and disregard for science? Lecturing, guilt shaming and dire warnings don't get eyeballs on screens. Ask Al Gore. The makers of "Don't Look Up" chose marquee actors and absurdity - standard bait for satire - to hold up the mirror to our politics, media, academia and business. To some degree, it worked. Who doesn't want to see Meryl Streep as a comic, soulless, poll-driven, chain-smoking president? Who doesn't want to watch an over-the-top celebration of a ridiculous defense plan staged on the deck of a battleship? This kind of thing elevated "Wag the Dog." To do that, the moviemakers needed to sacrifice versimilitude, physics, the Constitution and more. So, if you want to enjoy a satirical look at how our country works, don't expect real sci-fi, real political drama or real scientific review. It's meant to be both funny and thought-provoking and succeeds - at times - at both.

As an older guy unfamiliar with the pressures around the Hispanic communities of Southern California, I found the first season of this show revealing, absorbing, funny and sad. The second season, however, seems to have ditched the whole assimilation versus mainstream issue and now tries for impact through loud costumes, constant cursing and valueless sexuality. The direction of the show was always weak, but now the storylines are dumb and overly drawn out.

I know I'll be the minority view here, but based on the first two episodes, this is just a chickie rom-com pretending to be daring and funny by hiding behind scatology, sex words and pratfalls. A great cast without a clear direction.

Do not attempt to make sense of this movie. Just enjoy the effects, Chris Pratt and J. K. Simmons. I had the added benefit of fireworks going off during the final scenes. Stupid good.

Mike Epps and Wanda Sykes are top talents, but you can't expect them to make a gem out of a slapdash production, even if they are the producers. Every line of the first episode seemed to be a worn-out cliche bolstered by a cheap, irritating laugh track. Stage direction is at a high-school level. There's no invention to this show. Hope it gets better.