Review: "The True Adventures of Wolfboy"

"The True Adventures of Wolfboy" is a sweet, whimsical modern fairy tale, though also a little bit sad. But the sadness feels right.  

If it seems premised on a gimmick -- a boy born with hirsutism, aka copious facial and body hair that makes him resemble the titular nickname, goes on a road trip to discover himself -- that's because it is, though the filmmakers are quick to acknowledge it. Screenwriter Olivia Dufault and director Martin Krejcí position the tone somewhere between literary fantasy and sobering verisimilitude. 

We may find the characters a little constructed or even weird, but their emotions and exploits land with surprising weight.

Jaeden Martell ("Knives Out") is Paul, a 13-year-old kid from Ohio. It's just him and his dad (Chris Messina), a decent if not particularly sensitive sanitation worker who loves his son and wants him to fit in and be happy. He doesn't seem to realize that can't happen when people stare at you wherever you go, and many boys are keyed up to bullying mode at first encounter. 

Paul wears a ski mask most everywhere he goes, which isn't very far. His dad is pitching him on a private school for kids with varying sorts of physical disabilities, and even buys him the coat-tie-and-shorts uniform to try out. But Paul has received a surprise birthday gift from the mother he has never met, inviting him to come visit her in Pennsylvania and find out the truth of why she left.

So off Paul goes, to have the aforementioned adventures. The filmmakers cleverly divide these up into chapters based on the new people he will meet, presented as illustrated pages of a storybook. So for example when he meets a vaguely punk girl with pink hair and an eye patch with a penchant for robbing stores, she becomes the Pirate Queen.

I just love, love, love this cast. Martell is sensitive and soulful as Paul, but also not afraid to show us a young man with some bite in him. He's been kicked around and devalued by everyone in his life, most especially himself, and as he enters the cusp of manhood a part of him is eager to stiffen his spine and fight back. This could lead him to self-confidence but also potentially to becoming that which he beheld.

Eve Hewson is charismatic and cagey as Rose, the aforementioned pirate girl, who seems like she's holding onto all sorts of secrets that don't come through in her dialogue. She lives in her van and actually looks forward to the possibility of prison as a welcome break in her routine.

John Turturro plays Mr. Silk, the extravagantly ostentatious owner of a third-rate carnival near Paul's home. He wanders in there and is offered a job as a circus freak, though Silk is careful to couch it in more positive -- though certainly manipulative -- terms. We'll see more of him later.

The always-wonderful Stephen Henderson shows up as an older man who has some special insight for Paul. There's just something about Henderson's voice and poise that instantly makes you feel safe and welcome. Chloë Sevigny plays his mom, whose meeting with Paul is everything and nothing we'll expect.

And then there's Sophie Giannamore as Aristiana, the "mermaid" Paul meets in the course of his journeys. She's about the same age as him, but at night when her mom is working she wanders over to drag bars where she performs onstage, favoring colorful costumes. Aristiana is hopeful but realistic, making her way through a world that devalues her and may even shorten her life, but with a sense of willful self-awareness most people don't possess at 64, let alone 14.

It's rare that you see a child actor and immediately think, "I can't wait to see what they do next." Natalie Portman, Haley Joel Osment, Jodie Foster and Jacob Tremblay were on that very short list. Now, so is Giannamore.

"The True Adventures of Wolfboy" is a marvel, a movie that feels quite old but also very much part of the here and now. All of us have our flaws and freakishness, some closer to the surface than others. Sometimes you have to go a long way to find out where home is.

 

Review: "Landline"

Actress Jenny Slater reteams with her “Obvious Child” director/screenwriter, Gillian Robespierre, for another comedically observational look at the trials of young womanhood.

“Landline” follows a twentysomething woman played by Slater toeing the precipice of marriage and concurrent anxiety about permanency, as well as her teenage sister caught in the phase of acting out and seeking all around her for meaning, and finding only disappointment in her immediate surroundings.

It's a smart, tender, wry and sensitive portrait of a family in turmoil. Edie Falco and John Turturro play the parents, harried in their own lives and bewildered by the two independent-minded women they’ve raised. They have their own problems as well, which Robespierre explores with co-screenwriter Elisabeth Holm, who also worked on the story for “Child.”

Set in 1995, the title refers to the numerous telephone conversations in the movie, before mobile phones were ubiquitous. Most of the impact interactions take place face-to-face, however, and “Landline” also speaks to the deeper connection the sisters form throughout the course of the story when circumstances throw them into unexpected proximity.

Slate plays Dana, who superficially seems pretty stable with a decent starter job, apartment and fiancé, Ben (Jay Duplass). They get on well together, but even before the wedding vows take place a sense of sameness has crept into the relationship. The sex has even gone stale, which they attempt to solve with an unfortunate change of locale. But Dana discovers deeper cravings she’s afraid will get stifled.

This leads to a flirtation with college flame Nate (Finn Wittrock), whose crooked smile and off-kilter regard for things like marriage and family personify Dana’s increasingly chilly feet.

Abby Quinn plays Ali, who’s about 16 but seems to have skipped over the teen angst phase and hurried straight into menopausal orneriness. Her dad, Alan (Turturro), jokes that maybe getting mugged will tame her nighttime wanderings, but then takes it back: muggers would be too scared of her.

Ali is in a hurry: to grow up, to drink and do drugs, to lose her virginity, to go to college or whatever else it takes to get away from her parents as soon as possible. She has a guy she keeps around (Marquis Rodriguez) to help with her carnal explorations, but Ali treats him as an appliance to her own evolution.

One of the more interesting things about “Landline” is the way the women tend to use men poorly, rather than the other way around. Early on the girls discover love poetry written by their dad, an advertising copywriter and wannabe playwright, to a mysterious woman named “C.” They spend much of the movie trying to sniff out who that is -- not quite believing such a self-doubting person would have the gumption to cheat.

They nurse their secret resent for their dad, even as Dana carries out the exact same sort of duplicity, and Ali casually squashes her would-be boyfriend’s feelings when they intrude up on her plans.

Falco is the center of the clan as matriarch Pat, who has a very public position of power and employs a slightly softer version of that on the home front. In one scene she dismisses her husband as a “failure” in front of their daughter, and Turturro’s face is a mask of restrained pain. Pat’s not a bad person, but she’s been shouldering the parenting load for so long, she can’t help resent her floundering mate.

Things go on, with much pain as well as laughter. The appeal of “Landline” is its spot-on observation of characters who resemble real people rather than Hollywood constructs conveying themselves from Point A to B in the plot. These people knock around, sidestepping and backtracking, in a chaotic path that bends (hopefully) toward grace.

Review: "Hands of Stone"

“Hands of Stone” gets by on the power of its performances and the lifelike depiction of Roberto Duran’s fighting style in the boxing ring. Like a lot of biopics, it stumbles when trying to shoehorn a long, complicated life into a 105-minute story.

For instance, the movie covers Duran’s early career from brawler in the streets of Panama to his 1983 comeback fight against a young Davey Moore, after the humiliation of his infamous “No Mas” rematch with the great Sugar Ray Leonard, in which he relinquished the title by refusing to fight anymore.

In fact, Duran had already lost a couple other “comeback” fights before that one, and would continue to fight for nearly three decades after – including a third bout with Leonard in 1989 (which he also lost).

Still, I can understand why writer/director Jonathan Jakubowicz, a Venezuelan making his English-language feature film debut, chose to cut the string of this story thread where he did. Boxing movies tend to follow a familiar rise/fall/rise again three-act story structure, and you know what they say about that which ain’t broke. It makes the movie predictable, but also more digestible.

Edgar Ramírez, almost 40, shines playing Duran from about 19 to age 32. He’s much prettier than the real Duran, but that’s Hollywood for you. Ramírez gives him a sort of feral charm, a street urchin who fought bare knuckles for cash turning into the hungry young boxer who stalked his opponents like a beast of prey in the ring.

When he spots a pretty young schoolgirl, Felicidad (Ana de Armas), he corners her and proposes marriage on the spot. Here was a man who knew real craving in life, so when he saw the things he wanted, he pounced.

Robert De Niro is in his usual fine form as Ray Arcel, a legendary trainer who was pushed out of the game 18 years earlier when he defied Frankie Carbo (John Turturro), a New York mobster who controlled the fights. Nearly killed, he promised never to make another dollar in the ring. So he agreed to train Duran for free.

Usher Raymond (using his full name here) shines as Leonard, who is depicted as a lightning-fast fighter with loads of charm and wit. Goaded by Duran to “fight like a man” in their first bout, he smiled after losing because he knew he had been outsmarted. By the time their rematch came a few months later, Leonard was a honed blade while Duran had let himself get badly out of shape.

There’s an interesting tension here between Duran, Arcel and Carlos Eleta (Ruben Blades), the wealthy Panamanian businessman who bankrolled Duran. Arcel, who seems himself as much as a father to his fighters as a trainer, sees nothing wrong with letting Duran take some time off, eat whatever he wants, and enjoy what he’s earned. But Eleta, sensing a big payday, sees money as more important than winning.

De Niro’s character imparts a lot of wisdom, both in the ring and in the narration. He differentiates between tactics, which are a fighter’s moment-by-moment decisions in the ring, with strategy, which is the long-term plan of how to outmaneuver your opponent. Arcel also employs little idiosyncratic moves, like combing Duran’s hair before each round, so he seems fresh and invincible.

Jakubowicz goes for a moderate blend of styles for the fight scenes, eschewing the ridiculousness of the “Rocky” movies – where guys absorb haymaker after haymaker without going down – and the lyrical slo-mo blood sport of “Raging Bull” and its ilk. The boxing is straightforward and deliberate, with enough “flash bulb” moments for the audience to grasp the impact of the blows.

In boxing parlance, “Hands of Stone” has punching power but a poor sense of timing. The story dances here and there, skipping over most of the 1970s and then rushing the final act. It’s a worthy picture, but destined to remain a contender.

Video review: "Exodus: Gods and Kings"

Ridley Scott is one of my favorite movie directors, but it’s hard to deny the man is responsible for his fair share of duds. He’s had a bit of a string of them lately, usually as a result of trying to redo previous films that didn’t really need another iteration: 2010’s lackluster “Robin Hood,” the bewildering “Prometheus” from 2012.

“Exodus: Gods and Kings” is essentially Scott’s version of “The Ten Commandments,” with Moses and pharaoh Ramesses duking it out over the fate of the Jewish people, with plagues and miracles descending on high with equal fervor.

Cecil B. DeMille’s 1956 epic hasn’t aged well – it plays now as a remarkable artifact of old-Hollywood hokum. But it wasn’t exactly crying out for a remake.

The result is a rather dull affair, with Christian Bale as Moses, a prince of Egypt revealed to be a Jew, spending years in his desert exile communing with the Lord, who takes the form of a small boy. Eventually he returns to Egypt and the predictable special effects fireworks crank up, along with plenty of battles. Here Moses wears armor and comes off closer to Spartacus than the robed holy man of scripture.

We’re further distracted by the heavily mascaraed presence of Joel Edgerton as Ramesses. Gosh knows I am not one to kowtow to politically correct imperatives. But casting an Australian as an Egyptian pharaoh is at least a 9.4 on the scale of White People Screwing Up Historical Stuff.

It’s a nice-looking film, with terrific costumes and sets and CG backdrops. As you’d expect of a Ridley Scott flick, the action scenes are staged crisply and energetically. But the characters all seem so glum and lifeless, as if they’ve been drained of their vital essence. Bale is so dirge-like in his disposition he makes his Bruce Wayne seem like a party animal.

Ultimately, “Exodus” fails the first test of filmmaking: why does this movie need to exist? It doesn’t, and we needn’t bother.

The movie is being given an excellent video release with a spate of bonus features, though you’ll have to pay more for the best stuff.

The DVD comes with eight deleted and extended scenes, plus a feature-length audio commentary track by Scott and co-screenwriter Jeffrey Caine. Upgrade to the Blu-ray, and you add another deleted scene and “The Exodus Historical Guide,” a feature-length trivia track.

Go for the 3-D collector’s edition combo pack, and you add an entire blu-ray disc of bonus features. These include “Keepers of the Covenant,” a feature-length documentary on the making of the film, a historical perspective on Moses, photo galleries, promotional featurettes and more.

Movie:

Extras:

Video review: "Cars 2"

“Cars 2" is certainly an entertaining movie, but there's no denying the tang of disappointment that clings to the latest release from Pixar, the king of animation studios.

It may not be fair to judge a movie on anything other than its own merits, but Pixar has set such a high standard that anything less than a wondrous film that delights the soul and mind of children and parents alike registers as a drop-off.

Considered amidst its peers, "Cars 2" is the cinematic runt of the litter.

The sequel takes a bold turn in shunting aside the main character of the original, hotshot race car Lightning McQueen (voiced by Owen Wilson), in favor of his hillbilly sidekick, Mater the tow truck (Larry the Cable Guy). The story is that McQueen has been challenged to a series of three races all over the world, but Mater steals the show when he's mistaken as an international super-spy.

As Finn McMissile, a snooty British agent (Michael Caine) puts it, "They're fooled because they're too busy laughing at the fool" -- not realizing Mater really is that dense.

It's all just an excuse for one set of action-packed hi jinks after another, with the bad guys divided between a loud-mouthed Italian racer and a mysterious pack of the worst lemon cars in history -- Yugos, Gremlins, Pacers, etc.

"Cars 2" is a fun bit of animation, but compared to "Toy Story" or "Finding Nemo," it's missing a gear.

It's notable that "Toy Story" is the only other story Pixar has seen fit to sequelize. Whereas last year's "Toy Story 3" was a heartfelt romp with a beloved set of familiar characters, "Cars 2" feels slapped-together and hasty, a merchandising opportunity with a movie attached.

"Cars 2" arrives on video in four different versions, with goodies ramping up as you move up in price point.

The DVD and Blu-ray/DVD combo pack come with the same features. There's "Hawaiian Vacation," a cartoon short, plus another all-new short, "Air Mater," and a commentary track by director John Lasseter.

Opt for the five-disc 3D combo pack, and you add deleted scenes, set exploration around the globe, short documentaries and a sneak preview of "Cars Land," a new showcase at Disney's California theme park.

Or you can go all in for the 11-disc Director's Collection, which includes both the original film and sequel plus all the extras.

Movie: 3 stars out of four
Extras: 3 stars

Review: "Transformers: Dark of the Moon"

The third go-round with the killer robots from outer space gets points for coherence -- at least when it comes to individual scenes, if not the story as a whole.

My biggest beef with the first two "Transformers" movies was that they were slick, soulless pieces of entertainment built around special effects that just weren't very special. The heroic Autobots, who can transform into mechanized sentient beings into trucks and sports cars and such, just weren't visually distinctive.

Other than stalwart leader Optimus Prime (voice by Peter Cullen) and Bumblebee, who's a bright yellow sports car in his disguised form, I could never really even tell them apart.

Things got worse whenever they went into battle with the Decepticons, their enemy cousins. Director Michael Bay and an army of CG animators churned out one confusing action scene after another, with the Transformers changing forms while flipping each other around like WWE wrestlers with chunks of metal flying off constantly.

With little for the eye to track, the audience couldn't tell where one robot ended and another began. At the risk of quoting myself, I wrote that experiencing these movies was "like watching piles of welded metal scrap caught in a Kansas twister."

Bay and the gang must have heard the clamor, because the action sequences are greatly improved in "Transformers: Dark of the Moon." They are relatively straightforward and coherent, and even manage to occasionally be viscerally affecting.

The plot, though, is a hot mess of seemingly endless exposition, double crosses, people running hither and fro without much reason, and a lot of unnecessary humans.
Shia LaBeouf reprises his role as Sam Witwicky, the hapless kid who is accurately dubbed "an alien bad news magnet." Whenever something is up with the Autobots and Decepticons, Sam is bound to be in the middle of it.

Having helped save the world twice, Sam is now out of college and can't find a job. His previous incongruously hot girlfriend (Megan Fox) has been replaced by another, Carly (Rosie Huntington-Whiteley), an English lass with thing for puppy-eyed losers like Sam. I did enjoy the barbed jokes aimed at Fox, who famously exited the franchise after saying some less-than-kind things about Bay & Co.

"She was mean," one of the smaller, impish Autobots quips.

The latest Decepticon scheme again features head baddie Megatron (Hugo Weaving) conspiring to defeat the humans and their Autobot allies using some new cosmic thingamajig. This time it's some pillars that were stowed away on a spaceship called The Ark when the Autobots were in their final days of losing the war against their enemies.

This ship crash-landed on the moon in 1961, and in an interminably long prologue sequence, we learn that the entire Apollo moon missions were undertaken for the sole purpose of exploring the wreckage.

They key to the magic pillars is Sentinel Prime, the long-lost Autobot leader who is resurrected by Optimus. Sentinel is voiced by Leonard Nimoy, who brings a new meaning to his familiar trope as Spock about the needs of the many outweighing the needs of the few.

A whole lot of new human characters are introduced, without much purpose that I can see. Frances McDormand is a coldly calculating defense honcho; John Malkovich is a flaky CEO who gives Sam a job; Patrick Dempsey turns up as a rich guy whose sneer leaves no doubt about his loyalties in the coming conflict.

"Transformers: Dark of the Moon" is still cinematic empty calories, but it is marginally better than its predecessors, if only because the actions scenes have a semblance of sense.

2.5 stars out of four

Review: "Cars 2"

So Pixar, the unfailing wunderkind of animated movies, has finally delivered its worst movie, by far. By that, I mean "Cars 2" is merely pretty good.

The sequel to the 2006 flick -- which many had regarded as the weakest in Pixar's lineup -- lacks the emotional oomph and layered appeal to grown-ups that is a hallmark of their oeuvre: "Finding Nemo," "Wall·E," etc.

"Cars 2" is left with lots of dazzling action scenes, slick-looking CG animation and plenty of goofy humor featuring Tow Mater, the garrulous redneck sidekick from the last movie who's been punched up to the main character. At least they had the decency to give Larry the Cable Guy, who provides the voice of Mater, top billing over Owen Wilson, who also returns as flashy race car Lightning McQueen.

It's notable that "Toy Story," Pixar's first feature film, is the only other franchise the animation studio has seen fit to sequelize. Whereas the "Toy Story" movies grew deeper and more sentimental each time, "Cars 2" seems flashy and hastily assembled.

I'm probably wandering into dangerous territory here, but this movie feels like it was made to give Disney a summer tent pole and to sell another billion dollars or two of toys and other merchandise. With last winter's "Toy Story 3," we could sense the heartfelt devotion the filmmakers put into visiting those characters again; I don't feel it here.

Director by Pixar chief John Lasseter from a script by Ben Queen, "Cars 2" is still a highly entertaining bit of animation, but the soul isn't filled by watching it.

(Speaking of the "Toy Story" gang, they're back from a brief visit with "Hawaiian Vacation," a fun 8-minute short cartoon that precedes the feature.)

The film is fast-paced, even occasionally hurried, and jumps around the globe like the international spy thriller it emulates. Lightning McQueen is challenged to participate in a three-race World Grand Prix held in Tokyo, Paris and London, with the title of fastest car in the world at stake.

His nemesis is Francesco Bernoulli (John Turturro), a loudmouthed Italian open-wheel racer whose fender-less good looks draw the attention of Sally (Bonnie Hunt), McQueen's special lady.

Sir Miles Axlerod (Eddie Izzard), a wealthy British energy tycoon, thinks he's found a green alternative to oil-based gasoline called Allinol, and want to use the races to drum up support for it.

But at the first race, Mater gets mistaken for an American super-spy, and is drawn into a nefarious plot that soon takes precedence over the racing. I won't divulge the details, but the clever upshot is that all the lemon cars of history -- Gremlins, Pacers, Yugos -- are behind it.

Mater's new allies are a pair of British agents: 007-ish Finn McMissile (Michael Caine), an Aston Martin decked out with all sorts of weapons and gizmos, and Holly Shiftwell (Emily Mortimer), a smart rookie on her first assignment in the field.

The joke is the Brits think Mater's rube routine is a ploy -- "they're fooled because they're too busy laughing at the fool," is how Finn puts it -- without realizing he really is that dense.

That sets up a brief and not terribly convincing life-lessons moment about being true to yourself, but it carries so little weight it's practically a throwaway moment.

"Cars 2" is hardly a bad movie, and it's certainly an engaging piece of entertainment. But for the first time, Pixar didn't rev up to its highest gear.

3 stars out of four