Review: "The Front Runner"

“The Front Runner” is an unflattering portrait of American politics, but even more so of the media.

Based on a book by political journalist Matt Bai, who also co-wrote this screenplay, it examines the moment when tabloid and mainstream news intersected, merged and never really looked back. This was Gary Hart’s 1987 campaign for the presidency, when the U.S. senator from Colorado was seen as the prohibitive favorite to win the Democratic nomination, only to have it all unwind in less than month when his serial philandering was reported.

For decades, Washington politicians held the journalists who covered them to a gentlemen’s agreement: look the other way when young ladies are seen going in and out of our doors, and we will give the access you need to do your jobs. It was a nearly all-male environment, both in the corridors of power and the newsrooms charged with checking them -- so the Faustian bargain was accepted.

Consider that just two years before Hart’s implosion, Teddy Kennedy was witnessed assaulting a waitress along with his protégé, Chris Dodd. It went unreported for five years, and only then in a chuckling passage in a men’s magazine.

That was the mentality held by Hart, a wonky and charismatic politician played by Hugh Jackman. Hart is a man of big ideas and enthusiasm for the future who was laid low by clinging to the unsavory practices of the past. He is annoyed, then outraged, that his philandering is not swept under the rug as it always has been.

“This is beneath you,” he seethes at a young Washington Post reporter (Mamoudou Athie) who dares bring up rumors of his affairs. “Follow me around, put a tail on me. You'll be very bored.”

This line has entered the lore of politics, but like a lot of legends it’s mostly fiction. Hart did not challenge journalists to follow him and then openly dally with bimbos. Reporters from the Miami Herald, acting on a tip from a friend of one of Hart’s conquests, staked out his D.C. townhouse and witnessed model/pharmaceutical saleswoman Donna Rice (Sara Paxton) going in and out. They only heard about the “follow me” line after the fact.

(It should also be noted that the Herald reporters, played by Steve Zissis and Bill Burr, did not “hide behind bushes” as Hart contended, which also became part of the erroneous mythology.)

Directed by Jason Reitman, who co-wrote the script with Bai and Jay Carson, “The Front Runner” is an ambitious, contemplative movie that asks hard questions without offering easy answers.

Was it unseemly for reporters to lurk around during Hart’s downtime to see who he dallied with? Should they have looked the other way, as had been practice? Was it fair for Hart’s talents and ambition to be the price our nation paid for demanding more of our politicians?

One female journalist gives a poignant speech pointing out that Hart, for all his blessings, was still just another man willing to employ his power to use and dispose of women who cater to his whims. There’s also a nice sequence where one of Hart’s campaign workers (Molly Ephraim) is charged with “handling” Rice as the story explodes, knowing she is about to be fed to the wolves.

The film reminded me a lot of early Robert Altman movies, with large casts of characters moving in and out of the frame as the camera slides past, their conversations overlapping and receding. It lends a sense of documentary-like authenticity.

There’s too many supporting actors to mention, although Vera Farmiga and J. K. Simmons stand out as, respectively, Hart’s wife, Lee, who is willing to overlook his dalliances until they become an embarrassment her, and the campaign manager who has spent years building a political machine only to watch it turn to ash virtually overnight.

Thirty years later, Hart’s fall seems almost quaint now in this day of presidential porn star mistresses, handsy politicians of all stripes and a media that has grown both quantifiably smaller and more meager in its ambitions.

Making do with the errors of the past is bad, but sometimes in reaching for something better we degrade ourselves. “The Front Runner” is the cautionary tale of our collective rise and fall.

Review: "Beautiful Boy"

“Beautiful Boy” delivers everything I expected, and nothing I didn’t.

It’s a well-acted, well-intentioned drama about drug addiction and the horrid toll it takes on a family. The film is based on a true story, and interestingly the father and son each wrote memoirs about their journey that formed the basis of the screenplay by Luke Davies and Felix Van Groeningen, with the latter also directing.

This should be the sort of film that milks you for tears, yet I found it oddly emotionally remote. I observed the characters rather than getting caught up in their plight. Instead of pitying them or identifying with them, I regarded them as mere constructs in a tale that felt like it was navigating a predetermined path.

In many ways, the worst thing a movie can do is fail to surprise you.

Steve Carell plays David Sheff, and Timothée Chalamet is his teenage son, Nic. They have a strong, tender bond that’s survived divorce (Amy Ryan is the brittle ex-wife/mother) and remarriage to Karen (Maura Tierney). Their special thing is when parting to simply say “everything” to each other -- as in, I love you more than everything.

Like too many kids his age, Nic dabbles with pot and booze. David brushes it off; he did the same thing at that age. (And still dabbles, he admits.) But when he tries crystal meth, it’s like Nic’s whole soul is sucked into a hole. A quizzical, creative boy who loves to write and draw, part of the problem is that he feels more alive and vibrant when he’s on drugs.

In one pivotal scene, David goes through his son’s notebooks while he’s off on one of his multiple-day benders, and finds an entry where he says that his life felt like black-and-white until he tried meth, and then it became Technicolor.

David is a journalist who enjoys his secure, well-ordered life. Carell shows us how he deeply cares for and loves his son, but also how Nic’s addiction throws a wrench into the life he’s carefully rebuilt with Karen, which includes two adorable blonde moppets. Every conversation he has with his ex-wife about Nic’s welfare immediately turns into a shouting match, more about stirring up old resentments than protecting their kid.

(The movie has a decided “House Hunter” problem common in films today: the Sheffs live on an idyllic tree-lined estate on the outskirts of San Francisco, despite the fact he is a freelance writer and all Karen seems to do is paint pictures.)

The story goes through a predictable cycle of critical drug use, rehab and relapse, with Nic showing up in progressively worse and worse shape. Chalamet transforms from skinny to scrawny, his cheeks sunken and his ribs showing through T-shirts draped over his shriveled body.

I appreciated some of these sequences. In one, David waits in a favorite restaurant to be reunited with Nic, and wistfully recalls their conversations and good times there when his son was just a tyke. Then the devastated man-child shows up, twitchy and resentful, going through the motions of rekindling the relationship until he can demand money. The contrast is jarring.

But in the end, “Beautiful Boy” has a rote, TV-movie-of-the-week feel to it. Nothing ever happens that we didn’t anticipate. The film checks all the right boxes, but fails to absorb our hearts.

Video review: "Laggies"

“Laggies” came and went quickly at theaters -- too quickly. This dramedy doesn’t quite flesh out the promise of an intriguing premise, but the trio of lead actors is tremendously appealing. This is the sort of movie where you just like spending time with these characters.

Keira Knightley plays Megan, drifting through life in her late 20s with a degree in family counseling but who can’t summon the energy to do more than be a sign carrier for her dad’s CPA business. Realizing that she’s become the “sad one” of her social circle and after a surprise marriage proposal she wasn’t prepared for, Megan skips out on everything and ends up hiding out at the home of Annika (Chloë Grace Moretz), a precocious 16-year-old she happens to meet.

Annika’s dad, Craig (Sam Rockwell), is a cynical divorce attorney still bitter about the breakup of his own marriage. He can’t figure out why a grown woman is hanging around with her kid, but goes with the flow after determining she’s not dangerous. Soon, though, both recognize a pull between them.

Director Lynn Shelton and rookie screenwriter Andrea Seigel make the common mistake of introducing an intriguing group of characters and setting, and then not really knowing what to do with them.

The primary relationship would seem to be between the two young women, but then the Megan/Craig romance starts to heat up and Annika sort of disappears into the background. Rockwell’s role is rather underwritten, but he still makes it vibrant and memorable because, well, he’s just that good.

I enjoyed “Laggies” even while recognizing that, like its main character, its lack of a coherent destination prevents it from being entirely successful.

Video features are decent, and are the same for DVD and Blu-ray editions.

Shelton provides a feature-length commentary track. There are also about 10 minutes worth of deleted/expanded scenes, and two featurettes, “Lagging On with Lynn Shelton” and “Shooting Seattle: The Look of Laggies.”

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Video review: "Men, Women & Children"

Jason Reitman’s “Men, Women & Children” is a noble effort but not a successful film. It’s worth a look on video, because there are a few moments of quiet power in its ensemble cast and intersecting storylines. Other sections, though, wander.

The topic is sex, specifically how modern technology and digital interfaces reverberate in how we relate to each other romantically. The drama serves as a cautionary tale about letting contrived expectations interfere with the actual flesh-and-blood human beings we’re affectionate with.

The focus is mostly on teenagers, though adults figure into the mix, too. Kaitlyn Dever and Ansel Elgort play decent but confused kids who embark on a tender romance. Meanwhile, though, her mother (Jennifer Garner) is tracking her every movement and text message, terrified of what’s roaming out there in the digital ether.

Other stories include a mom (Judy Greer) who is distributing risqué photos of her own daughter on the web to paying customers, and a middle-aged couple (Adam Sandler and Rosemarie DeWitt) who are bored with each other but find excitement in random hook-ups with strangers they meet online.

Even more unsettling is the tale of a young girl who struggles with her body and her virginity, both of which she views as a burden rather than things to be celebrated. So she punishes herself by starving herself, and receives encouragement (!) from like-minded young women online.

There’s a lot to admire about this film, as it dares to ask uncomfortable questions about how we live and love today. The movie ultimately loses its way, but the journey is worthwhile.

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Review: "Men, Women & Children"

"Men, Women & Children" is an audacious, ambitious film that dives into the deep end of cinematic contemplation and, eventually, disappears beneath the ripples it commenced. But not before a heroic effort.

It's not so much a coherent story as a mirror turned around at the audience, daring them to consider how we live today, how the digital age has bent and distorted the way we approach love and sex -- especially teenagers, who have never lived in a world without instant communication and universal access to visual gratification.

This is one of the rare movies I wish was longer; its sprawling narrative and heady themes needed more space to give themselves a full workout. Director and co-writer Jason Reitman ("Up in the Air") ends up drowning in the same trouble that afflicts most films with large ensemble casts and intersecting storylines: it moves on too quickly when it should linger, and tarries when it has outlasted its purpose.

If the notion of underage kids communicating graphically about what they'd like to do to each other is shocking to you, then you might sympathize with Patricia, played by Jennifer Garner. She monitors every step her daughter Brandy (Kaitlyn Dever) takes online -- she reads the girl's text messages before she sees them, deleting if she finds them objectionable. Using tracking software on Brandy's phone, mom knows her daughter's whereabouts 24/7. Indeed, Patricia, with her pained expression and wounded eyes, doesn't seem to have a job or a personal life, only a cause: to keep kids safe online -- even if it means stripping them of any semblance of freedom.

Needless to say, Brandy is driven to seek release, and finds it with Tim (Ansel Elgort), another wayward soul. He's the star running back of the football team, but quits mid-season so he can have more time to play Guild Wars, an online role-playing video game. He's bereft by a personal loss, and in Brandy sees a companion with whom to drift. They plug the rents in each other's fragile psyches, forming a relationship that is -- by the standards of other couplings in the film -- remarkably healthy and not dictated by sex.

On the other extreme is Hannah (Olivia Crocicchia), a 16-year-old who flaunts her sexuality instinctively, aided by a mother (Judy Greer) who enables her Hollywood ambitions. They take risqué, but not obscene, photos of her and post them on a website -- including private shoots for paying customers. What's scarier than the idea of a mother basically pimping out her daughter is that neither seems to fully grasp the impact of what they're doing.

Most affecting is the story of Allison (Elena Kampouris), a painfully thin girl wracked by twin, intermarried crucibles: anorexia and being the last female (she thinks) in her social circle who hasn't "hooked up." She visits websites where beauty-obsessed girls provide emotional support to willingly starve themselves -- Google it; they're real -- and fantasizes about the football player she's known since seventh grade. Her body is an unruly burden to her, both her corporeal heft (any) and her wretched virginity.

The stories of some of these kids' parents also float in and out of the foreground. Most notable, though not as interesting as it sounds, is Adam Sandler and Rosemarie DeWitt as a married couple whose sex life has turned cold, and they each use the Web to fulfill their needs with strangers.

It's an interesting idea, especially in that it's she craving sexual adventure while he mostly pines for simple intimacy, but their path seems more pathetic than dangerous. Meanwhile, their 15-year-old son has grown impotent after being burned out on hardcore porn.

"Men, Women & Children" gives us an almost entirely bleak view of lust in the 21st century, but that's not its problem. By focusing on too many characters and tales, the film's dark, brave message loses signal strength. There either needed to be a lot more of this movie, or a lot less.

Review: "Short Term 12"

Grace gives good advice but doesn't take it. As the senior staffer at a foster care facility for troubled teens, she tells a new counselor on his first day that the job isn't to be their therapist or their friend, but simply keep them safe. Nonetheless, she finds herself getting increasingly engrossed in their problems, to the point the strife reverberates against her own past filled with pain.

It's a brave, unadorned and gutsy performance by Brie Larson, best known for roles in teen and/or comedy films. This dark, brooding but enthralling drama should be a game-changer for her.

Writer/director Destin Cretton settles us easily into the daily workings of Short Term 12, housed in a drab facility hidden away in a corner of suburbia. The rules are simple: while the teens are inside the property, their lives are more or less controlled by the staff. Once they get past the gate, though, all bets are off. Runners happen often enough the counselors trade funny stories about them.

Grace rules this environment through sheer force of will, getting boys a foot taller than her to knuckle under at the threat of a "level drop." Mason (John Gallagher Jr.) is her wingman, goofy and sensitive and, we soon learn, her surreptitious sweetie. They're both lost kids who were found, and want other youngsters to have the same chance.

Cretton's story is cyclical and sporadic, much like life at the center. The movie's attention wanders from this kid to that, and eventually onto Grace's own inner turmoil.

The film's strong point is the bond that exists between these teens, even when they're occasionally at each others' throats. They're linked by the idea that nobody's problems are insurmountable, since every person is screwed up in their own way.

Two of the foster kids stand out. Jayden (Kaitlyn Dever) is the newest arrival, a referral from a friend of the facility director. She's jaded, cut off and too smart to fall for the normal tricks. She's unusual among the group in that she lives part-time with her father, who put her there after being unable to handle her destructive behavior.

Slowly, methodically, Grace worms her way into Jayden's good graces. They bond over their love of sketching ... and their horrible expression of self-hatred.

Most affecting is Marcus, the oldest of the group. Foster kids are only supposed to be there less than a year, but he's been around over three and is about to receive a mandatory boot upon turning 18. He's sullen and borderline aggressive, but also harbors a contemplative, poetic side.

Marcus keeps talking about wanting to shave his head for his birthday; Grace and company nod quizzically, not understanding the meaningful insistence behind this odd request. When they finally honor it, it opens up an emotional catharsis that just sweeps you away. It's Keith Stanfield's first feature film role, and he packs a punch.

The movie's not perfect. Cretton's sense of timing is occasionally off, as some events bring a sense of urgency that just melts away. Nate (Rami Malek), the new counselor who at first acts as the eyes and ears of the audience, sort of gets misplaced about halfway through. I also wanted more time alone with Grace and Mason; their romance feels more like a marker than something that breathes.

Still, "Short Term 12" is a powerful and genuine look at young, shattered lives and the painstaking process of piecing them back together again.