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Babylon  The lives of different people in the film industry intersect in 1920s Hollywood. Those people include Manny Torres (Diego Calva), a film assistant, Nellie LaRoy (Margot Robbie), an actress, Jack Conrad (Brad Pitt), a silent film actor, and Elinor St. John (Jean Smart), a tabloid journalist, among others.
Anarchic, tedious, bonkers, unpleasant, chaotic, drugs, sex and bodily fluid. Those are some of the words that come to mind while watching Babylon. Writer/director Damien Chazelle has made a movie about Old Hollywood that might as well be called Once Upon a Time...in Old Hollywood. It opens with a scene that involves an elephant shitting. That scene alone sets the tone for the rest of the film which feels episodic and unfocused as it jumps around from different perspectives. Nearly everyone is unlikable and hard to connect with emotionally except for Manny Torres who's at least remotely likable. Everyone else just seems vain, narcissistic and vile. Not surprisingly, there's a scene when Nellie vomits on someone's rug which leaves nothing to the imagination. Chazelle doesn't trust the audience's imagination enough for most of the film because there's little to no subtlety. Triangle of Sadness, another film that shows the dark side of human nature which also includes lots and lots of vomit at least has some nuances along the way. Then there's Bardo: False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths which blends realism and surrealism with satire. Babylon, at times, feels satirical, but other times it takes itself too seriously and tries to be like a poignant Cinema Paradiso. Neither the satire nor attempts to ground it in realism and sentiment work because of the contrived, clunky and shallow screenplay. Yes, Chazelle isn't afraid to push the envelope, but so what? That's not enough. There's often a fine line between brilliance and madness, but Babylon isn't among the films that walk that line; it too often veers right into madness while having nothing interesting to say about it. The only scene that truly stands out in terms of emotional and intellectual depth is one that comes late in the film when Elinor St. John has a profound monologue---it's a scene that's just as memorable as Judd Hirsch's monologue in The Fabelmans. Even though The Fabelmans and Babylon are like night and day when it comes to their depiction of Hollywood, they both suffer from the same ailment: they're schmalty and all over the place tonally and thematically. They both bite off much more than they could chew and have no shame in spoon-feeding the audience without trusting their emotions or their intelligence enough. Sure, a film's plot isn't as important as the emotions that it contains, but Babylon has a hollow center that ultimately makes it less than the sum of its parts. What Damien Chazelle does trust, without a doubt, is the audience's patience. He trusts it a lot--too much. Many scenes overstay their welcome, especially a party scene at the beginning and a scene involving a snake bite. That snake bite scene isn't for squeamish audiences at all or if you're scared of snakes. Babylon is the kind of film that makes its point loud and clear initially and then hits the audience in the head with it over and over. It's an exhausting experience that might be easier to watch if you see the first 1.5 hours in one sitting and the last 1.5 hours in another. That said, the terrific ensemble cast who give solid performances are the glue that holds the film together. Jean Smart, Diego Calva and Margot Robbie manage to be the most radiant among the bunch. The cinematography and music score also contribute a lot to the film's style, but there are pacing issues, so tighter editing would make it drag less and flow much smoother. At a running time of 3 hours and 8 minutes, Babylon is a well-acted, but bloated, shallow, anarchic and consistently unpleasant mess that will make you want to take a long, cold shower afterwards.
 Corsage  In 1877 Vienna, Elisabeth (Vicky Krieps), the Empress of Austria, is turning 40 on Christmas and grapples with losing her youth. She's married to Franz Joseph (Florian Teichtmeister), Emperor of Austri, but stops having sex with him. She goes horseback riding, visits asylums and has an affair with her instructor, Bay Middleton (Colin Morgan).
To describe Corsage just by its plot wouldn't do it justice because it's not really about its plot. Not a lot really happens in terms of plot. riter/director Marie Kreutzer focuses more on Elisabeth's coming-of-age as she faces old age, or at least what was considered old age back in 1877 according to life expectancy.An earlier film poster showed Elisabeth holding up her middle finger as though this were an acerbic comedy like Emma.. Corsage nothing like Emma. at all, though, nor is there a scene where Elisabeth sticks her middle finger up to anyone. She does stick her tongue out, though. This isn't not a comedy per se, but it does have a few amusing moments/ For the most part, it's a character study albeit one that's meandering, somewhat dull and not very deep. The audience follows Elisabeth for about a year as she goes through an emotional crisis. She doesn't really have anyone to turn to; her husband doesn't quite understand what she's going through. Perhaps she doesn't even understand what she's going through either because it's all new to her. She doesn't seem emotionally mature, and she can snap at any minute. She's probably bottling a lot of other emotions, too, which remain underexplored in the film. A lot remains understated while some things, like Elisabeth's young daughter calling her a child, are a bit too on-the-nose. The relationship between Elisabeth and her husband falls flat before their marriage even loses its spark; there's also very little substance to the relationship between her and the man whom she has an affair with. Elisabeth starts as a stranger to the audience and, sadly, still feels like a stranger by the time the end credits roll as she remains at a cold distance from them.
Corsage is lucky to have Vicky Krieps because she brings much-needed emotional depth which the screenplay sorely lacks. She anchors the film with her charismatic and tender performance which breathes some life into the screenplay. Unfortunately, her performance can only go so far to keep the audience engaged. The set and costume designs are exquisite with some scenes that look as poetic and as visually breathtaking as a painting. Writer/director Marie Kreutzer keeps the pace moving slowly. She clearly trusts the audience's patience and includes some quiet moments which are refreshing, but the film does tend to drag--fortunately, not as much as Babylon does. At a running time of 1 hour and 53 minutes, Corsage is meandering, lethargic and emotionally cold, but visually stunning with a moving performance by Vicky Krieps.
 Living  In 1950s London, Williams (Bill Nighy) works as a civil servant at a government office. His mundane life is interrupted when his doctor informs him that he has terminal cancer and only six months to live. He sets out to make the most out of his remaining time alive while confiding in a younger woman from work, Margaret Harris (Aimee Lou Wood).
Living is a stirring and deeply moving character study of a man who embraces life while facing death. The screenplay by Kazuo Ishiguro, based on the screenplay of Akira Kurosawa's Ikiru, introduces the audience to Williams by showing him at his government office job as a new worker, Mr. Wakeling (Alex Sharp) arrives. Williams has worked there for a while. He's taciturn, soft-spoken and keeps to himself a lot as he goes about his daily routine. Something awakens inside of him when he gets diagnosed with terminal cancer. He decides not to tell anyone about his diagnosis right away. There's no villain in the film except a silent one: the cancer. Screenwriter Kazuo Ishiguro does a terrific job when it comes to exposition about Williams' past, revealing little by little about his memories and all of the feelings that he has bottled up inside of him. It's refreshing to meet a protagonist who's a decent human being and emotionally mature concurrently. Case in point: when Margaret tells him that they nickname him "Mr. Zombie" at the office, he doesn't get angry, but laughs about it and accepts it. He doesn't invalidate anyone's feelings. In other words, he has learned to accept himself for who he is. The new friendship he has with Margaret is interesting and explored in a way that feels organic without being icky or creepy. They're not quite like Harold and Maude, though, but it's a similar kind of bond. Not a lot happens on the surface in terms of plot, and some key moments like Williams' death itself are left to the audience's imagination without being dwelled on too much. A lot happens, though, within the heart, mind and soul of Williams, though. Watching him go on a spiritual awakening is the equivalent to watching a tree fully blossom with its leaves turning a variety of beautiful colors before they're shed. Living is ultimately a story of a man who goes on a journey of self-discovery while learning how to conquer adversity. To be fair, Living does become a little preachy and cheesy with on-the-nose dialogue during the last 15 minute after Williams dies, but that's a minor, systematic issue. Bill Nighy gives one of the best performances of his career. He finds the emotional truth in the roll of Williams and sinks his teeth into it. His quiet, understated performance isn't showy nor does it need to be. The nuances, warmth and charisma that he brings to the role breathe it to life even during the quiet moments. Everything from the cinematography to the costume design to the lighting and even the slow pacing contributes significantly to the style and substance. The flashbacks scenes are also well-edited without being clunky or diminishing the film's narrative momentum. At a running time of only 1 hour and 42 minutes, Living is warm, wise and wonderful.
 No Bears  A film director (Jafar Panahi) gets into trouble while secretly making a film in an Iranian village bordering Turkey. Local villagers accuse him of taking a photograph of a bride and the groom whom she's not supposed to marry because she's been promised to marry another man since birth, but he maintains his innocence. No Bears transcends genre because it's not quite a thriller nor a satire or character study per se. Writer/director Jafar Panahi blurs the line between reality and fiction from the get-go with an opening scene that turns out to be a scene from one of his films that Reza (Reza Heydari) is shooting. Panahi directs that film remotely from his laptop computer. After losing contact with Reza because of poor WiFi connection, he seeks better WiFi connection by climbing to the roof of the building on a ladder. Someone warns him that his neighbors might assume that he's a peeping tom if they see him. Soon after, he shoots a photo of a group of kids, but the audience doesn't see him shoot the aforementioned photo of the bride and groom that he's accused of taking. He repeatedly denies taking the photo. Meanwhile, some tension arises as he struggles to make a new film while reunited with Reza. He takes a huge risk by walking near the border of Turkey and Iran--he even stands right on the border. The suspense during those night time scenes aren't palpable; this isn't an edge-of-your-seat suspense thriller. It's understated and gentle, like the very brief comic relief that's peppered throughout the film. Darker elements like murders are kept off-camera and to the audience's imagination, mostly. As the film progresses, it becomes increasingly evident that Panahi has to find a way to escape the country like the characters in one of his films desperately need to as well. Jafar Panahi keeps everything natural and organic without any overly-stylish cinematography or set design. Occasionally, you might feel like you're watching a documentary. The performances are just as natural with no one over-acting. The scene shot at night when Jafar meets Reza by the border is the most foreboding one with poetic visuals, but, for the most part, there's nothing that stands out about the film on an aesthetic level. He wisely avoids the use of shaky cam to add tension, so he clearly knows that tension comes from the plot and the characters' interactions. The bears referred to in the title can be taken as literal or metaphorical because someone tells Jafar about bears that come out at night in the Iranian village before he tells him later that there are no bears and that it's just a myth. Fortunately, the metaphor of the bears isn't heavy-handed nor is anything heavy-handed at all throughout the film. At a running time of 1 hour and 47 minutes, No Bears is provocative, engrossing and captivating.
 Whitney Houston: I Wanna Dance with Somebody  Whitney Houston (Naomi Ackie) rises to fame while growing up in New Jersey with her mother, Cissy (Tamara Tunie), and father, John (Clarke Peters), who becomes her manager. Record producer Clive Davis (Stanley Tucci) agrees to produce her music. She develops a romance with Robyn Crawford (Nafessa Williams) despite her father's disapproval of their relationship. Eventually, she marries Bobby Brown (Ashton Hudson), who cheats on her, while she suffers from drug addiction.
The screenplay by Anthony McCarten covers a lot of ground in the life of Whitney Houston. It deals with her rise to fame, her romance with Robyn, the relationship between her and her domineering father, and between her and her more supportive mother. Then there's her business relationship with Clive, the stress she has when she discovers that her father has mismanaged her money, her relationship with her toxic, philandering husband, and her battles with drug addiction. McCarten deserves credit for showing Whitney Houston during her high points, her low points and the ones in between. As socio-psychologist Erving Goffman once wisely observed, life is like theater. Everyone has a front stage life and a backstage life. A truly great biopic captures both, especially its subject's backstage life behind the curtain. Unfortunately, McCarten's screenplay doesn't include enough moments that pull the curtain to show Whitney Houston "backstage", so-to-speak. It too often shies away from delving into her darker moments of depression, sadness, anger and frustration, so it's emotionally stingy. Therefore, the audience has a tough time getting to know Whitney Houston as a human being. She never truly comes to life, and it's hard to grasp her inner life which she surely has. She's been through a lot, but the conventional screenplay focuses more on her experiences in the music industry. The dialogue, for the most part, is on-the-nose and spoon-feeds the audience, so McCarten and director Kasi Lemmons don't trust the audience's intelligence, emotions nor their imagination nearly enough. There are a few mildly funny and witty moments with comic relief, i.e. when Clive quips something about Jesus being Jewish on his mother's side. So, while this isn't a dry biopic per se, it ultimately fails to unflinchingly humanize its subject, warts and all, which is its systemic flaw.
The performances and the music are the two strongest elements of the film that hold it together. Noami Ackie is very well-cast as Whitney Houston and gives a mesmerizing performance. Thanks to hair & makeup design, she even physically resembles Whitney. The same can be said about Stanley Tucci who looks and talks like Clive Davis. It's too bad that the screenplay's lack of depth undermines their performances. The film comes alive the most during the exhilarating musical performances. There are some interesting edits going on as Whitney initially discovers the songs and sings them live in concert, i.e."I Will Always Love You," but there's not nearly enough scenes showing her hard at work behind-the-scenes to prepare for the show. Was it a struggle? Was she nervous? It'd be great to see her during those moments. Also, the running time does feel a bit long as it crosses the 2 hour mark. At a running time of 2 hours and 26 minutes, Whitney Houston: I Wanna Dance with Somebody is a well-acted, but shallow, undercooked and sugar-coated biopic. The music is much, much better than the film itself. Watch the documentary biopic Whitney for a more unflinching, moving and insightful look at the life and career of Whitney Houston.
 Women Talking  Women from a Mennonite community gather at a barn to discuss the sexual abuse they're suffering from the men in the community. The women include Ona (Rooney Mara), Salome (Claire Foy), Mariche (Jessie Buckley), Greta (Sheila McCarthy) and Agata (Judith Ivey). Meanwhile, August (Ben Whishaw) listens to their testimonies and takes notes.
Although not based on a play, Women Talking feels like it could've been. The screenplay by writer/director Sarah Polley is actually based on a novel by Miriam Toews. Roger Ebert once observed that it's much easier to get inside the head of a character by reading a novel than by watching a movie. He's right, but that shouldn't be an issue with a sensitively-written screenplay that humanizes its characters and allows the audience to see them as fully-fleshed human beings. As long as the screenplay provides a window into the characters' heart, mind and soul, you can get inside their head just as easily as you can while reading a novel. Unfortunately, that doesn't quite happen in Women Talking because of the stilted dialogue and too many scenes that feely stuffy and stagey. None of the women explicitly mention the words "sexual abuse" or anything along those lines, so some audiences might be initially wondering, "What are they complaining about? What happened?". Polley's screenplay does a poor job of incorporating exposition. Too much happens that's left up to the audience's imagination, and the dull screenplay doesn't help matters either. There's nothing unflinching about Women Talking; it beats around the bush too often while failing to hit the audience in the emotional gut. Perhaps its systemic problem stems from the source material, but, either way, writer/director Sarah Polley has a responsibility to make it engrossing, captivating and provocative. She doesn't succeed at accomplishing that. Mass is a better example of people coming together to talk about something tragic in a way that does accomplish those amazing feats while finding the Spectacle within the Truth. Women Talking does have some Truth, but not much Spectacle within it. Also, there's not nearly enough comic relief or any kind of levity, so monotony along with lethargy begin to arrive around the hour mark. Therefore, the emotional beats in the third act don't land, leaving the audience feeling cold and underwhelmed. The performances range from decent to hammy and wooden. None of them manage to rise above the weak, stilted screenplay. There are a few slightly moving moments, but they're ephemeral. Even the cinematography and lighting is sub-par because it makes everything look ugly and either washed-out or too dark, so there's a lot of warmth missing, not only in the screenplay but in the production values. Is it too much to ask for warm lighting every now and then? Moreover, the pace moves as slow as molasses. At a running time of 1 hour and 44 minutes, which feels more like 3 hours, Women Talking is a clunky, lethargic and underwhelming drama that fails to pack an emotional punch.
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