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review by Jonathan Berk  In 2018, fans of metal music and outrageous comedies were treated to a charming cinematic merge with directors Juuso Laatio and Jukka Vidgren's Heavy Trip. After six years, the guys are back with the aptly titled sequel, Heavier Trip. The first film was full of charm and some wild comedic moments that made it extremely memorable. While the second film tries to give audiences more of the same, it doesn’t quite live up to its predecessor. After the events of the first film, the members of Impaled Rektum — Turo (Johannes Holopainen) on vocals, Xyrtax (Max Ovaska) on bass, Oula (Chike Ohanwe) on drums, and Lotvonen (Samuli Jaskio) on guitar — are still serving time in Norway’s nicest prison. The guys are initially content with finishing their sentence until Lotvonen’s parents' reindeer farm is about to be foreclosed upon. If they can land a big gig and get paid some big bucks, they could potentially save the farm — and Lotvonen’s father’s health. After busting out of prison, they set their sights on getting added to the Wacken festival in Northern Germany. It’s not uncommon for sequels to attempt to give us more of the same. Heavier Trip commits the sequel sin of bringing the guys back to what is essentially the same place they were at the beginning of the first film. There is mention of their fame and the demand for their music after the exploits of the first movie — but the plot quickly undercuts this, still leaving them as a group of nobodies. A large part of the film essentially debates whether they should “sell out” or not, and every moment connected to that seems to ignore the fact that they played a major show at the end of the first film. The conflict in this sequel feels contrived, and while the idea of a road trip is embedded in the name, this particular trip just feels like more of the same. If it managed to be as endearing and as funny as the first film, maybe this could be overlooked…but something is missing here that keeps those feelings just out of arm’s reach.  That’s not to say there aren’t elements that work. Xyrtax is still such a fun character. Aside from being the one truly dedicated to the music — at least from his perspective — his interactions with others are often the best moments. The real-life band Babymetal shows up as a recurring joke, with Xyrtax at the center, and it’s an excellent addendum to his character and the clear highlight of the film.
The band as a whole is what makes Heavier Trip worth watching. While it doesn’t quite hit the highs of the first film, the band’s charm remains intact, making it easy to root for these metal misfits the more you’re with them, despite the predictable plot. Turo’s drive to be an epic metal singer is unmistakable, and you genuinely want him to succeed. Lotvonen and Oula have their quirks and are also very likable. The amiability of the band, despite the extreme nature of their music and songs, makes this an easy watch. As every bump along the journey happens, you hope the guys can figure it out. Unfortunately, many of those bumps feel silly, redundant, or too predictable to make the entire journey memorable. There are a few cool set pieces that make the film pop a little more — yet, for a film about a band, it doesn’t feel like there’s enough music. Even when we do get scenes of the band playing, they’re often cut a little too short, only giving us a taste of their talent. The camerawork, costumes, and production all make those scenes visually pop, which only makes it sadder when we realize how brief they’ll be. Heavier Trip feels like it lands squarely in the sophomore slump often associated with a band’s second album. It’s not that the movie isn’t good, but it’s clearly not as good as the first. That comparison makes this one simply feel lesser. Imagine waiting for a band to finally come back to play the encore, only for them to replay some of the songs they played earlier in the night — it’s hard not to be disappointed. Heavier Trip is in theaters and available on VOD on November 29. Rating: 3/5
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Review by Jonathan Berk  The concept of “paint-by-numbers” is often associated with biopics. If you’ve seen one, you can often see the pattern in which filmmakers shape the story. That’s why when a filmmaker with a distinct style and approach takes on a film in this genre, they can break away from the status quo. Director Pablo Larraín has done just that with Jackie, Spencer, and now with his newest film, Maria. Maria Callas was once the world’s most renowned opera singer. But in 1977, she is living a life of seclusion in Paris with her butler, maid, and two poodles. Her health is in decline, but a request for her to return to opera for a tour raises an important question: Will La Callas sing again? And if so, for whom? One way Larraín approaches these three biopics that stands out is by choosing to focus on a very narrow portion of their life. He utilizes some flashbacks to explore outside the limited window in which the primary story is told — but for the most part, he chooses an impactful moment of these figures' lives rather than employing the “cradle to grave” format that many other biopics strive for. The sad reality, however, is that most moments in our lives are mundane and uneventful. By choosing to focus on these pivotal moments, Larraín provides a strong sense of who the person was rather than simply documenting the events they experienced. His approach, similar to Danny Boyle’s Steve Jobs, creates a heightened version of reality — one that makes for an enthralling cinematic experience that centers on the heart of who these people were, or what they may have been like.  While the storytelling in Maria is captivating, Angelina Jolie’s performance as the diva is equally impressive. The film chooses to integrate an operatic style into many of the sequences, and Jolie is tasked with delivering these incredible vocal performances. She not only shines in these grand moments — but also in the quiet, introspective ones. Maria’s mental and physical decline is conveyed so poignantly through Jolie’s portrayal. Her performance is spellbinding, bringing both vulnerability and grandeur to the screen, capturing Maria’s struggle to find her voice once again.
Pierfrancesco Favino and Alba Rohrwacher play the two other primary characters in the film — the butler and maid, respectively. Their performances are also incredible, and add depth to the depiction of Maria’s seclusion. There is a recurring motif where Favino’s character has to move the piano for a variety of reasons, despite having an injured back. It’s an element that could feel inconsequential, but instead carries an emotional weight that matches that of a man struggling with the burden of moving such a heavy instrument. The chemistry between the three forms the emotional spine of the film, and it’s in far better shape than the butler’s. The visuals in the film are extraordinary, matching the emotional richness of the performances. Larraín likes to dabble with surrealism, which results in some stunning cinematography. Various stylistic flourishes make scenes feel like documentary footage, while others play with our perception of reality or draw attention to the form itself. A black-and-white close-up of Jolie as she sings is one of those early images that instantly burns into your mind. We are introduced to the character in such an intimate way, locking eyes with the diva who we will be spending the next two hours with. Larraín’s style and voice shine through, demanding our attention, and making this film unforgettable. There is so much to take away from this movie that it is easy to recommend. Maria is a captivating portrait of a legend in her twilight, demanding that we remember her voice, her talent, and her struggle as tragedy fell upon her. This film may not paint the entire picture of her life, but it gives us a sense of who she was. For that alone, Larraín’s film is worth watching. Maria will be in select theaters on November 27 and on Netflix on December 11. Rating: 4/5 Review by Adam Donato  Disney Animation Studios may not be dealing with a world war or near bankruptcy, but this era is quite a low point for the studio. Wish and Strange World were total flops. Even when Encanto succeeded critically, it underachieved at the box office by the studio’s standards. Another hindrance in their box office is the insistence of Disney+. Audiences have been conditioned to know that they can skip the theaters since the movie will drop on the streaming service for free in a couple months. It’s safe to say Disney’s Revivial Era is long over. Besides Encanto, Disney has been crapping out impactless originals and lazy sequels. Will Moana 2 perpetuate this downward spiral? Not unlike Frozen 2, Moana 2 has been plagued with bad press centered around the making of it. Moana 2 was supposed to be a Disney+ series. Last year, Nielsen crowned Moana as the most streamed movie of the year with over 11 billion viewing minutes. From a business perspective, it was a no brainer to stretch this sequel out into a full blown movie. After seeing the film, there are pacing signs that show this was repurposed content. The animation feels up to par and the main voice cast is back, but Lin Manuel Miranda is noticeably missing. Do these disadvantages ruin the film? Moana 2 is fine. Every single aspect about this sequel is inferior to the original. There is not a single song here that is better than any song from the first movie. The jokes are lazy retreads of the exact same jokes from the first movie. The narrative is reminiscent of the story of the first movie. It’s really depressing for a movie about venturing outside of the norm to discover the new to have a sequel lacking in ambition. The only thing really new about this story is the sequel bait, which is hard to get excited about when the story of this movie feels like it’s lacking purpose. Families won’t go into this sequel with as much cynicism as cinephiles, but even then it will be surprising to see any fans of the first movie preferring the sequel.  Criticisms aside, Moana 2 is a very digestible movie. The animation is still pretty and the world of this movie is such a vibrant place to revisit. It would’ve been nice for Moana 2 to take notes from another Disney sequel, The Rescuers Down Under, which sports a similar plot to the first, but feels unique as the location of the film couldn’t be more different from the first. Luckily for Moana 2, the location reflects a beautiful vacation type spot. Watching Moana swing around her boat is almost like watching Spiderman swing around New York City. She’s such a proactive character that’s full of personality so hanging out with her again is a delight. Seeing her grow as a leader and build more relationships with her people is rewarding. The songs aren’t anything to write home about, but there are songs and they are generally fun. There’s kind of a villain song that feels like a villain song, but isn’t really a villain song. Nothing bad with the music, just entirely unspectacular. The new characters are not very memorable, but cool enough and not annoying. Moana has a little sister with big front teeth who is very adorable. Moana 2 is one of the cutest movies of the year and families will eat it up.
Rewatching the first Moana after seeing the sequel is a depressing act as the level of passion and artistry has taken a huge hit. It’s not an instant classic, but it’s a fun and light movie that will entertain the masses. It will contend for the highest grossing animated movie of all time, but if Frozen 2 didn’t warrant a Best Animated Feature nomination, then this shouldn’t get one either. Listen to what the studio was saying in the first place: this “movie” belongs on a streaming service for kids to play on repeat. Watch it in theaters for a mildly fun, if not forgettable time. Even in a dismal year for animation, Moana 2 is more of the same for Disney Animation Studios: passionless and cynical content. Moana 2 is in theaters on November 27. Rating: 3/5 Review by Borja Izuzquiz  Renate Reinsve in Halfdan Ullmann Tøndel’s ARMAND. Courtesy of Pål Ulvik Rokseth. An IFC Films Release. “I love you” Elisabeth (Renate Reinsve) exclaims as she races down a countryside road. Having not received an answer, she inquires whether that sentiment is reciprocated. Armand introduced itself to Cannes audiences with that short yet compelling scene that foreshadows the tendency of influencing and manipulating perceptions from that moment onwards via shocking and muddled reveals.
Elisabeth’s query remains unanswered as she arrives draped with exquisite elegance to her son’s school. She is there to discuss an incident that occurred between her son Armand and fellow classmate Jon, neither of which make an appearance. First time director Halfdan Ullmann Tøndel manages to create an elaborate space surrounding an otherwise simple affair. The incident in question is kept secret at first, but the school’s insistence on the details not being leaked alludes to a potentially sinister occurrence. Furthermore, Tøndel envisions Elisabeth as otherworldly, with her radiance existing in stark contrast to the surroundings she’s arrived at. The setting is basic enough, yet after the categorical introduction, Tøndel leisurely reveals details that increasingly challenge perceptions. Elisabeth, along with Jon’s parents Sarah and Anders meet with their children’s teacher Sunna. The conversation is cordial enough partly due to the fact she and Jon’s parents are related. However, Elisabeth finds it difficult to make sense of the serious accusations, leading her to ferociously defend her son. The school where the film takes place offers its own dosages of mystery and tension. Unpredictable oddities made possible by the excellent cinematography of Pål Ulvik Rokseth, are liable to take place in dark hallways as fire alarms incessantly go off, adding to the increased tautness. Classroom walls hold lies and dark secrets people tell themselves to justify their purpose and prejudices, as the past and present lure their heads to defend their side of the story. Films related to family drama run through Tøndel’s family history. His grandparents, Ingrid Bergman and Liv Ullman were two of the greatest filmmakers to ever tackle these subjects. Bergman and Ullman directed and starred in Autumn Sonata, a 1978 film dealing with family dynamics and the effect of parental absenteeism on children. Tøndel retraces those themes here, but layers with a unique style and thematic vision that helps him stand apart from his famous grandparents. In fact, Tøndel gleefully navigates the film towards increasingly odd and surreal depths. Anchoring the hellish landscape is Renate Reinsve. Already having proven herself an excellent actress in The Worst Person in the World, Reinsve elevates her abilities even further here. Her performance of Elisabeth spiraling into a state of anguish and despair is extraordinary. Reinsve’s pinnacle moment occurs during a seven-minute scene where she completely takes over with an absurdity that defies convention. Tøndel’s direction slings Elisabeth towards unforeseen situations from that point, and Reinsve continually more than meets the challenge. Armand is as ambitious a debut as can be. Not every swing connects for Tøndel, yet he remains committed to push boundaries. As the answer to Elisabeth’s initial question remains unanswered, so too does Tøndel refrain from revealing the reasons for his unconventional decisions or for his characters motivations. Whether that weirdness is ultimately earned is up for debate, but the unique vision is appreciated. Armand is in theaters on November 29. Rating 3.5/5 review by Jonathan Berk  In many cases, the concept of "show, don’t tell" is the essence of cinema. Every once in a while, though, a movie comes along that defies that principle and proves that — with the right actors — dialogue can be just as compelling as any image projected onto a screen. My Dinner with Andre is a prime example of a talkie that many find endlessly captivating. August Wilson’s previous cinematic adaptations — Fences and Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom — fall into this framework as well. While The Piano Lesson fits into this category, it is by far the most cinematic of all the entries. Fortunately, the cast in director Malcolm Washington’s feature film debut is more than up for the task. Boy Willie (John David Washington) arrives at his Uncle Doaker’s (Samuel L. Jackson) house hoping to sell his father’s old piano. The catch, however, is that it truly belongs to his sister, Berniece (Danielle Deadwyler), who has no intention of letting it go. The two argue over their perspectives on the past, the value of legacy, and their aspirations for the future. Danielle Deadwyler manages to shine the brightest in this incredible ensemble cast. This is not to take away from John David Washington, who delivered his best performance since breaking out in Spike Lee’s BlacKkKlansman. Yet, there’s something about Deadwyler’s performance’s many layers that makes it undeniable. Both actors get equal opportunities to shine, and they succeed in drawing the audience into the emotionally complex world they inhabit.  They are surrounded by a wealth of talent that helps fill out the scenes. Samuel L. Jackson never disappoints, and here is no exception. He delivers some memorable monologues, but comfortably takes on a supporting role, allowing the younger cast members to truly shine. It was a treat to see Ray Fisher flex his acting muscles after his challenging time in the DCU. His character, Lymon, has two particularly powerful scenes that remind us of the talent Fisher possesses. Michael Potts and Corey Hawkins also make the most of their roles, showcasing their acting prowess in key scenes.
One of the highlights of the film that allows it to break away from the intense dialogue is its quasi-musical sequences. One standout scene features Washington, Jackson, Fisher, and Potts gathered late one night, telling stories that evolve into a rhythmic recounting of their shared history. It’s engaging in every aspect—from camera placement to the beat the men create to tell their tale. There are many memorable moments throughout the film, but this initial musical number absolutely stands out and separates itself from the rest. Malcolm Washington employs impactful camera movement and positioning to keep the visuals dynamic, even when it’s often just people talking. The use of flashbacks and cutaways takes us out of the house where most of the story takes place, adding depth to the narrative. The story itself plays with reality and integrates supernatural elements, giving Washington the chance to experiment with creative flourishes that he is more than willing to employ. These components help this stage play adaptation feel more cinematic than Wilson’s two previous works. The Piano Lesson finds its rhythm quickly and never goes out of key. On the surface, the story is compelling, but it's the incredible talent delivering outstanding performances that make it truly resonate. Add in the creative touches of a promising young director, and you’ve got quite a film. It’s the kind of movie that may not work for everyone, but for those who it does, it will be an incredibly rewarding experience. The Piano Lesson will be on Netflix on November 22. Rating: 4/5 |