THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA/THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA 2

By Marc S. Sanders

I love when a movie can teach me about an industry.  Network and Broadcast News dive deep into television news.  Boogie Nights lends a sneaky and empathetic eye to the porn industry.  The Big Short explores the pains of mortgage lending and investments.  Spotlight reveals unwelcome truths within the Catholic Church by way of the press.  The Devil Wears Prada offers brilliant wit that often will leave you uncomfortable while emphasizing the importance of high-end fashion at its centrally located heart in New York City.

I recall watching an episode of Judge Judy.  The cranky magistrate was making light over the dispute between two comic book collectors.  The Incredible Hulk #181, which features the introduction of Wolverine (famously played by Hugh Jackman in the movies).  Judy Scheindlin could not fathom the need for an argument over this item, nor how a mint first edition copy could demand an asking price in excess of $5,000.  The best scene in The Devil Wears Prada parallels this circumstance as the new temp assistant, Andy Sachs (Anne Hathaway in her forever breakaway leading role) scoffs at a meeting run by the infamous Miranda Priestly (Meryl Streep in probably her most memorable performance).  

An underling cannot decide which of two blue belts complement a new outfit.  Andy just doesn’t understand “this stuff.”  Miranda uses her response as a means to explain the purpose a fashion meeting stretches far beyond a belt selection.  The reason they are standing there is detrimental to the outcome of tens of thousands of jobs and a blue sweater is never just a blue sweater.  In fact, Crayola, in case you didn’t know, Andy’s sweater is cerulean.  Cerulean is never just blue, just as a particular Marvel Comic Book is never just 60 cent magazine you roll up and buy at the candy store.

It’s during this moment that director David Frankel provides a visual demonstration. A dress is not a dress without a belt.  A dress and belt are nothing without a jacket.  A dress, a belt and a jacket are not necessarily enough without a hat.  A process is assembled.  

I know Prada was a book first (which I’ve yet to read), but how better to show why the visual medium of film is so vital to exploring what many of us may never be familiar with?  Just as you might not comprehend the importance of the comic book industry, I do not have an appreciation for the fashion industry, but the people who work under Miranda Priestly’s Runway magazine better do so because it represents a “beacon of hope” for millions of women, aspiring designers, and industrialists worldwide.  The items on display may have asking prices in the thousands, but they dictate what all of us wear casually and formally and how affordable all “this stuff” is for our respective demographics.

Andy is a twenty-something Northwestern graduate striving to become a successful journalist in the city.  To make ends meet with her live-in boyfriend Nate (a miscast Adrian Grenier, looking like Hathaway’s little brother despite the midnight shadow), she accepts a temp offer to be second assistant for Miranda Priestley, the devil of this film’s title.  

The first assistant is Emily (Emily Blunt in her breakout role), a nervous and low tolerant British trainer for Andy.  Emily gets twenty minutes for lunch and the prospect of accompanying Miranda for fashion week in Paris.  Andy gets fifteen minutes, and if she’s lucky an invitation to a hideous skirt convention.  Andy is also a size 6, which is now the new 14.  Seriously, what is Andy doing here?

Nigel (Stanley Tucci, who should have been Oscar nominated for this performance) is the top fashion selector keeping up with trends that Miranda will support and approve in the Runway catalogue.  

Miranda, Emily and Nigel – they might as well be speaking a foreign language to Andy.  Perhaps that should be vice versa?

The Devil Wears Prada is a best-selling novel by Lauren Weisberger inspired by her experiences in the Andy role when she worked for Anna Wintour, the famed editor in chief of Vogue. Weisberger’s story lacks a mentor for the novice.  Andy has no choice but to find her way through the endless challenges of meeting insurmountable expectations while trying to balance a personal relationship and friendships as she holds out for a prized opportunity in journalism.  Working for Miranda Priestley or Anna Wintour and living to talk about it can only open doors to some of the most esteemed publications out there.  

The characters of this film, standing on the heels of comedy, are sketched beautifully with genuine realism.  Meryl Streep is so focused on being a demanding, unrelenting, quietly intolerant heathen who knows her job better than anyone.  She is the toughest and most intimidating. Yet, there is no denying she never stops reading the pulse of updated trends and fashion sense.  Miranda knows every significant designer and clothing manufacturer the world over.  If a brand needs to break through, they must know Miranda Priestly and only hope to earn her attention.  Success is earned especially by affiliation with Runway.  Miranda never tumbles from the mountain she stands upon while so few can even intrude within her shadow.  It goes further when you see Streep enter any room, building or show in the entire film.  She doesn’t belong in the settings.  Rather the settings race to surround her.  

I also recognize the expanse of the script by exposing this ultimate power’s concealed weakness.  A late scene in the film goes against the familiar current of Streep’s character and the actress pulls it off with utter heartbreak.  How often do we get to feel sorry for the villain?  Miranda is stripped of confidence, makeup, and fashion, simply at a loss to just be as human as those beneath her.  It’s a shocking and beautifully written scene that Streep shares with Hathaway, devoid of any other kind of familiar armor.

It’s important that Anne Hathaway runs with a looser and more scattered persona.  Andy must be so much more than just opposite of Miranda.  For this story to work, the two women cannot even communicate in the same way or ever share similar perspectives.  Andy has to fail if she is to succeed.  How can anyone be expected to fly Miranda out of south Florida during a hurricane?  How can anyone obtain a copy of the unpublished manuscript of the latest Harry Potter novel? To keep from drowning in any line of work you have to absorb yourself in its environment.  Function with its nature.  The crux of the film is observing if Andy can follow through.

A spin off film focusing on Stanley Tucci’s character would absolutely work.  Nigel comes off like a sidekick, but with a few choice pieces of dialogue.  In a third act revelation, the film paints the picture of Nigel as an endearing sore thumb in a home he was completely uncommon with while growing up.  Tucci plays this man of confidence and knowledge under the radar.  A friend to Andy while never being so overt.  The impression seems quite obvious that Nigel is gay, but his career is his main priority. The argument has come up that only homosexual actors should play gay characters.  Stanley Tucci’s performance is the best, most assured response to turn off that debate.  (He’s married to Emily Blunt’s sister.) How he dresses, walks, talks and carries himself through every scene demonstrates a man of expertise who lives above any prejudice.  He lends purpose to high end fashion, and his service builds the confidence of women who are meant to have power and authority. 

Emily Blunt is the antagonist to Andy but her panicked hysteria is also the comedy found in the film.  Anything Andy considers is unheard of in Emily’s eyes. While Miranda is short on words, Emily exposes how fearful this devil truly is ranging from pouring a glass of Perrier to hanging a coat in the correct closet.  

David Frankel assembles this film with energy.  I especially love the filler montages that start at the opening credits and drive the transitions of the story.  He captures Andy, the lovable ugly duckling, in contrast to every model attired woman making a career for themselves in New York and it works to show how much a fish out of water she is.  Later, after Nigel delivers a complete makeover to desperately hopeless Andy, a new montage of seamless edits has Hathaway’s character walking with utter confidence and determination.  Frankel applies sweeping edits showing Andy walking behind a city bus or building, reemerging on the other side in another fitting outfit of color and vibrancy.  All of these moments define the world of The Devil Wears Prada.  Frankel truly creates a darling visual masterpiece.

The Devil Wears Prada focuses on career opportunities and building poise in a niched industry that is constantly evolving while never waiting for the troops to catch up with the fleet.  It studies the interactions that not only occur in an office but beyond, with high end social gatherings where the best of the best must be caught up with people’s personal dramas while circumventing around competitors who look to reign and cut throats.  Designers intersect with publishers and writers, and we see the back-and-forth responses, especially when the acerbic Miranda frowns at a presentation.  Someone with power and influence has the means of success or failure for the next person who comes through a door.  

As the film moves past its exposition, Andy, the protagonist, is ready to be tested.  I might be describing a fantasy, unfamiliar to any of us, but David Frankel and Lauren Weisberger, with an adapted screenplay by Aline Brosh McKenna, choose to take every bar or gallery or on-site location seriously.  Because they go in a direction where morals, ethics and loyalties can be probed and embraced by an audience.  Personal values and priorities can be questioned either at home, in the field or in the office.  

The Devil Wears Prada goes beyond the clothes these people wear.  Its story justifies why these four primary characters adorn themselves in the garb selected for them, allowing them to command or earn authority.

The newly released sequel, The Devil Wears Prada 2, demonstrates that after twenty years much of the environments and practices of the original are outdated though the world of fashion is unmistakably necessary.  In a post Me Too era where the internet makes the world so much smaller, the industries of journalism and clothing design do not feel as global and exotic.  A tyrant dressed in Prada cannot be so demanding.  She must rely upon herself, and not so much her underlings to get her Starbucks or hang up her coat.  Flying coach, not even first class, might make for a good gag, but…well…that might be pushing it.  Yet, this latest installment offers good ideas and inventive challenges for Miranda Priestly to contend with.

Elsewhere, Andy Sachs might be a well recognized, award winning journalist but with print and article submissions becoming extinct at the mercy of second to second social media news, it’s never enough to hold on to a job.

Runway is in trouble for being associated with sweatshop practices overseas.  Miranda is the scapegoat.  That’s about all you see of that problem because it’s important to speed along to Andy and Miranda working together again.  The writer is quickly recruited for an image repair of the famed magazine and its editor.

Even though the sequel follows similar beats to its predecessor, there are an overabundance of narratives, and they are scattered brained.  It begins with the blemish to Runway’s reputation, then on to getting the gang back together again.  These episodes quickly fix themselves and now the magazine becomes an affected constituent to corporate controls and seizures for the remainder of the film.

Side dishes are too overloaded as well with an unwelcome romance storyline for the career driven Andy.  This bit screams of a producer insisting that Anne Hathaway have a love interest.  Never have the scenes with Hathaway and actor Patrick Bramell, as a high end city property owner, felt like opportunistic bathroom breaks.  

Andy is also given a peer to cope with by the name of Mack (I had to look up the name) played by Larry Mitchell. He wears a Yankees cap. Otherwise, what is he doing here?  Other than Hathaway, he does not share a scene with any other cast member, and he’s there for Andy to commiserate with.  Couldn’t moments like these be shared with Nigel or Emily?  It would only strengthen the script and the appearance of the four returning principal characters. Tracie Thoms makes a welcome return as Andy’s art gallery friend.  Additional moments with her seem inviting but not relied upon.

Kenneth Branagh is here to cash a paycheck as Miranda’s new husband.  I don’t think Meryl Streep ever makes eye contact with him.  The famed, Oscar winning actor/director/writer only serves as a reactionary post for Streep.  Again, a producer who wanted to feel relevant likely insisted that Miranda have a love interest.

These elements are disappointing to me.  Often we see the leading man drive through a career without the need for family or relationships.  Especially in the world of The Devil Wears Prada, where women are never held back from achieving their goals, why are these two self made ladies of influence anchored to answering to a man in their life? There’s enough material to further their fulfillments without these useless characters.

Emily Blunt returns with nothing to do as well.  Even with a twist, that serves no surprise to her character as the stuck-up Emily, she steps into Miranda and Andy’s paths when the film has to wind down with a last button to push.  She’s also wasted in dumbed down tryst with an airhead played by Justin Theroux. This accomplished actor who has an impressive line of work, deserves better.  With practically nothing to do, Blunt should have insisted on a rewrite because her character has become entirely unappealing.

BJ Novack (actor and writer of The Office) does okay with what the script deals to him as oil to water antagonist for Streep’s role.  Yet, he’s also an unnecessary new character; one which could have been covered by Blunt’s character.  

Stanley Tucci is also not given much to do.  However, the new film is wise not to experiment with new angles for Nigel.  What works should be upheld.  It was smart just to let this supporting character remain as is.  Tucci is always wonderful and the film lights up when it circles back to him.

I’ve heard some are disappointed with deviations applied to the Miranda character.  In the first film, she truly is the one you love to hate.  Here, Meryl Streep is ready to respond to a change of climate and thus, Miranda is not as free to be the uncompromising slave driver while also revealing some genuine feelings.  This is the best part of The Devil Wears Prada 2.  It exposes the humanity of a notoriously cold person.  Yet, a wiser choice would have been to dismiss the Branagh character and have Miranda share moments with her twin daughters briefly touched on in the first film but never mentioned here.

Though I never cared for Adrian Grenier in the role of Andy’s boyfriend Nate, the first film leaves open possibilities for their relationship to survive.  Nate was a budding chef which on principle opens a lot of doors for the Prada world. The new iteration could have circled back to Nate being requested to cater one of the many events that occurs in this film, even when the story diverts to Miranda’s Hampton getaway.  Instead, a forgettable guy fills that void for Andy’s perspective.  What was to gain from that?

I was skeptical a follow up movie would work.  Prada doesn’t demand new adventures like Indiana Jones or Batman.  Yet, the new film offers a lot of potential to apply Miranda and Andy to a new internet culture of harassment boundaries to contend with two decades after they first met.  A lot of good seeds left about in the first film are abandoned in lieu of newly irrelevant material and characters.  Had The Devil Wears Prada 2 condensed its ideas the pace and drive would have been much more novel and adorably reminiscent at the same time.  Alas, it’s a size 14 when it should be a size 6.  The Blu Ray release should have a special edition that excises all of this unwanted fabric and size up a dress that’s more sleek and form fitting.  

MY DINNER WITH ANDRE

By Marc Sanders

You know, everything is not an anecdote. You have to discriminate. You choose things that are funny or mildly amusing or interesting. You’re a miracle! Your stories have none of that...It’s like going on a date with a Chatty Cathy doll. I expect you have a little string on your chest, you know, that I pull out and have to snap back. Except I wouldn’t pull it out and snap it back, you would. Agh! Agh! Agh! Agh! And by the way, you know, when you’re telling these little stories? Here’s a good idea: have a point. It makes it so much more interesting for the listener!

  – Neil Page to Del Griffeth, Planes, Trains & Automobiles, 1987

Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert deemed My Dinner With Andre one of the ten best films of the 1980s. It’s unique with a bold attempt at building an irresistible attraction to focusing entirely on a conversation in a restaurant booth between two men over dinner. Nevertheless, I find it to be a swirling black hole descent into a void I could not escape.  I walked into this restaurant with nothing.  I walked out with nothing.

Siskel deemed the discussion between Andre Gregory and Wallace Shawn to be a conversation into “intellectual outer space.”  He’s not wrong.  Especially when listening to Andre speak, anyone with at least a fourth-grade education will likely gather that he proudly shares his exploits in India and wherever else along with his experiences chatting with inspiring scholars and philosophers as the only way to live.  Outer space is an understatement because for most of the time I could not tell you how Andre goes from point A to point Z.  Wallace, patronizingly regarded as “Wally” by Andre, primarily represents the listener.  

You getting all of this Wally? I’m sorry Wallace.

Wallace Shawn’s voiceover explains that he is a playwright who is broke with no prospects on the horizon.  His agent has encouraged him to meet the famed theater director Andre Gregory for dinner.  Wallace is not thrilled about this idea as his last encounter with the man is not fondly remembered.  Yet, as celebrated an artist as Andre is, one day he all but left his career and his family behind to explore the world.  Now he’s back in New York City for one night and he has an interest in meeting up with Wally – a seemingly likable loser in a tan Corduroy suit with a bald head surrounded by frizzy, uncontrollable hair on the sides.  Of all people, Wally had to know why Andre wanted to see him.

My wife and I share a common frustration and we are trying to remind our daughter of it as she is quickly entering college independence. Often when we are in social gatherings, we make the effort to ask about the person we are talking to.  We’ll ask where they originate from, why they took up an interest in movies, books or shucking corn.  We’ll express concern for how their mother is holding up or what their vacation plans are.  Often the response will carry on for ten or twenty minutes with that person talking about themselves and the people in their life.  What’s disappointing is that we don’t get asked about us.  We have a mother.  We go to the movies and on vacation.  We read books.  We shuck corn.  It says a lot about how self-absorbed many of us can be.  That was my impression of the Andre Gregory in this picture.  Wally just sits there sipping his soup and often looks at Andre puzzled as to what point he’s making here.

Frankly, I didn’t like Andre.  He’s a magnificent deliverer of dialogue with a soothingly smooth voice.  The guy should have his own podcast.  Yet, he never stops to come up for air, and he carries on talking about the fascinating people he’s encountered and the exotic adventures he’s experienced.  Everything he says seems so elevated that I questioned if he’s a narrator of extremely tall tales.  Is Andre exaggerating?  Is he lying?  Is he also a storyteller?

As well, I went so far as to question Andre’s ideology.  On a number of occasions, he works fascist terminology into his anecdotes.  He describes someone as handsome and muscular as an SS soldier.  Who does that?  The physique of an SS Brownshirt is the best way to illustrate someone you have met?  Hitler is brought up.  The Nazi party as well, and he speaks freely about these allegories in front of Wally, a known Jewish man.  Someone as learned as Andre Gregory could not conjure up different references to enhance his stories?

When it’s finally Wally’s turn to speak, I’m at least grateful that he challenges Andre. With no money to his name and no immediate prospect of success or deserved recognition he says that he can simply feel fulfilled with a cold cup of coffee in the morning and a book to read. Personally, I need more than that out of life.  I don’t mind saying that I’m a materialist by nature.  I find joy in what I collect.  At least I can applaud Wallace for not subscribing to the babbling National Geographic issue sitting on the other side of the table from him.

By the end of the film Wallace spends the last shred of his money to take a cab across town.  He thinks about the various establishments he visited for an ice cream soda or whatnot, and he declares that he can’t wait to get home to tell his girlfriend about his dinner with Andre.  This is where I’m confused.  Why would Wallace want to talk about that pretentious, blathering organism, with no soul?  Andre seemed ignorant of the guy he calls “Wally.”  He never seems to express any admiration for his friend’s theater accomplishments.  He never carries an interest in what “Wally” is up to or how he came up with an inventiveness to write a particular play.  Most importantly, he never seemed to respect “Wally” for the simplicity he joyfully gets out of life.

Though they are playing themselves, Wallace Shawn and Andre Gregory insist that these personalities are more fictional than realistic.  That’s not hard to believe because the Andre Gregory of My Dinner With Andre exists on such a high plain it seems impossible to live the life he’s leading.  In 1981, when this film, directed by Louise Malle, was released how could a forty something man accomplish all that Andre Gregory had done?  So, I could not embrace this mostly one-sided conversation that’s devoid of sensitivity for his listener.  

I suppose to like My Dinner With Andre you’d have to either at least like Andre Gregory or love to hate Andre Gregory and neither option complemented me.  When you sit down to dinner with someone, the experience isn’t just about the bread basket and catering presentation.  It’s not only about the wait staff and if the scent of the cork is pleasing. It isn’t the atmosphere, either.  

It’s the company you keep that matters.

CHANGING LANES

By Marc S. Sanders

The title is not meant to just be taken literally.  Roger Michell’s film shot on location in New York City pull the fulcrums which alter the destructive paths of two very different men.  The script beckons them to pave each other’s roads they will follow from here on out.  Their destinations can lead to hope or despair.

Doyle Gipson (Samuel L Jackson) is a recovering alcoholic who is ready to close on a house in Queens that his estranged wife Valerie (Kim Staunton) and two young sons can move into.  Finally, the insurance telemarketer seems to be on the straight and narrow.  He doesn’t want a glass of champagne.  He feels like champagne, bubbly and alive.  His AA sponsor doesn’t rejoice in that comment.  Doyle just has to get to family court and demonstrate that he’s a devoted and loving father and ask the judge to decline Valerie’s plan to relocate to Oregon with the boys.

Gavin Banek (Ben Affleck), the son in law and young law partner of Stephan Delano (Sydney Pollack) just has to make a quick appearance in court to undoubtedly prove that his now deceased client intentionally signed off on dismantling his multi-million-dollar trust leaving the proceeds for the law firm to collect.  The client’s granddaughter argues that her grandfather was mentally incapacitated and therefore the agreement carries no merit.  Gavin has all the documents lined up with clear and original signatures from the client.  This should be a slam dunk.

Car accidents never happen at a convenient time. On one rainy day in the city, Doyle and Gavin meet following a sideswipe collision.  Doyle wants to exchange information.  Gavin is good with giving over a blank check and being on his way. Thus, leaving the scene of an accident. 

In the rush of things though, Gavin has dropped the power of attorney file, glaringly noticeable in an orange binder.  Doyle collects it while being left stranded on the freeway.  Being twenty minutes late works against him, and Valerie is granted permission to leave the state.  

Without that orange file, Gavin is short of proving his argument in court.  He has until 5 o’clock on Good Friday to deliver the document to the opposing council and judge or the granddaughter can file a malpractice suit with claims of fraud and possible jail time for Gavin, Stephan and another partner, Walter (Richard Jenkins).

Two separate stories are at play here, running parallel against each other until the lines collide once, then separate and then collide again and again by the hands of the two men working against each other to get ahead.  

Changing Lanes is a study of willpower for Doyle.  Samuel L Jackson is giving one of his best performances.  He’s continuously being tested.  He can have a temper when he’s in the midst of chaos but as his AA sponsor (William Hurt) will remind him outbursts of anger are not substitutes for the bottle.  So you didn’t have a drink!! You can’t exonerate or excuse however else you behave irrationally.

Changing Lanes is morality piece for Gavin.  He has money and power and resources to fix any kind of scenario and circumvent the boundaries of law to Stephan, Walter and his own advantage.  The question is if he should follow through on what’s in front of him.  His code of ethics is tested and other than Michelle, an associate at the firm (Toni Collette), all are telling him what needs to be done. Not what should be done. Including his wife and Stephan’s silver spooned daughter, Cynthia, played with attractive deviousness by Amanda Peet.  A magnificent piece of dialogue that lends justification to commit to what’s not right and sound may be the actress’ best scene of her career.  A gentle, yet direct Lady MacBeth.

Actually, even Michelle, (Toni Collette lending a catalog of subtle expressions) who’s also Gavin’s mistress and in the “I told you so” position, has ideas that triggers a lot of unwanted turmoil for the men.  Changing Lanes truly puts the corrupt in the driver’s seat while leaving the innocents in the wreckage left behind.  What does that say about us as a society?  I guess I’ll need to atone for a lot more than I thought on Yom Kippur, this year.

The men quickly find ways to locate one another and cause harm and setbacks by their antagonism. Some of these scenarios are definitely convenient over the course of an eight-hour day, especially in a populated New York City.  However, the circumstances are at least sensible.  The plausibility should not be questioned however because the script by Chap Taylor and Michael Tolkin is very insightful and reflective.

There’s a million ways Changing Lanes could have ended.  There’s certainly a button well in place on its finality but what remains are the transformations of these two men.  On the surface, in any kind of setting, Affleck and Jackson come from different cloths and it serves the picture very well, because New York is always the battleground for a variety of walks of life.  Watch how the actors argue with each other.  They might as well be speaking different languages because too often people of different backgrounds fail to see what their neighbors are going through.  Doyle and Gavin must go through a lot of pains before they can see a clear sky on a stormy day.

The trailer for Changing Lanes is thrilling but terribly deceptive.  It’ll make you believe this is a kind road rage action picture, complete with Jackson’s signature temper tantrum that’s found in a number of his films.  Maybe the preview convinces you that Affleck looks like the victimized white guy, and that is entirely unfair to an audience and both actors, as well as the writers and directors.  

I’m bold enough to declare that my write up is a much more transparent offering of what to expect from this fine, forgotten film – a highlight for the resumes of every actor here.  Changing Lanes leaves you thinking about what’s just and what can be done right when temptations and tempers do not collide accordingly with our day.

LUCY

By Marc S. Sanders

Only the headlining actors’ names appear before the title of the film, Lucy, but ten minutes into it I should have known I was watching a Luc Besson actioner.  It’s over the top and proudly exaggerated in its fiction like Leon: The Professional or The Fifth Element.  Because this one has Scarlett Johansson and Morgan Freeman talking about science fiction silliness in a brainy kind of way, Lucy is a lot of fun and likely better than those other two Besson flicks.  Just don’t try to comprehend the tech it preaches.  It’s important to remember that Luc Besson wrote it.  So why try in the first place?

Spliced within the first ten minutes of this hour and a half is nature documentary footage of wildlife in the open and nucleus cells splitting apart and coming together and whatever else cells do.  Most memorable is a cheetah pursuing a losing gazelle.  The story however focuses on young Lucy (Johansson), with her blonde crop topped hair suggestively hiding her left eye with a leopard print jacket hanging on her shoulders.  I got the impression that Lucy is a woman of the night in whatever Asian metropolitan city we are in.  I think Taiwan, but the bad guys speak Korean.  

A cad named Frank coaxes Lucy against her will into delivering a locked, aluminum briefcase to a high-rise apartment.  What’s in the case?  Well, isn’t that the go to starting point of so many movies these days? Whatever it is, it gets Frank killed right in front of Lucy.

But wait!!!! We actually get to see what’s in the case, this time.  Four bags of drugs that look like purple pop rock candies.  

A Korean mobster and his army of black suit/black tie cronies (surprised?) force Lucy and three men to be mules for the drugs and make deliveries.  I wasn’t clear on who the buyers are supposed to be.  It doesn’t matter, because poor, helpless Lucy gets to the airport only to get beaten up, forcing the bag of drugs to rupture and leak within her stomach.  

Besson initially showed us the figure of 10%.  Now, throughout the course of the picture that number will climb because Lucy’s brain capabilities are increasing rapidly as she is mobilized with cerebral powers that normal humans could never accomplish.  Apparently these chemicals are byproducts of the hormones that a pre-born embryo experiences allowing it to grow and develop into a fully functional human.  See, we’ve all gotten what Lucy’s gotten, but we’ve never gotten as much as what Lucy’s gotten.  So look out everyone.  Lucy is not coming to The Matrix.  The Matrix is coming to her.  

Morgan Freeman is the renowned Professor Norman, the world’s leading expert on brain activity.  He’s in Paris delivering a lecture on the theory that humans only use a fraction of their brain power to function.  In fact he claims that the sonar capabilities found in dolphins makes them much more advanced than any of us.  I nominate Flipper for President. We couldn’t get much worse.

With the Korean mob on her tail, Lucy goes after the other three mules located in Rome, Paris and Berlin, and recruits a French detective (Amr Waked) to assist her.  He doesn’t do much though.  

Lucy also makes contact with Professor Norman.  Sure she uses the phone to dial him up, but that’s not the only way she talks to him.  Just wait’ll you see.  And wait til you see how she takes on the mob who carry an armory of machine guns and an endless supply of ammo.  Let’s just say the Avengers and the X-Men don’t stand a chance against Lucy.

Morgan Freeman is not doing anything new here.  The script simply demands a wizened expert to intelligently deliver sci fi gibberish like it came out of Johns Hopkins.  Scarlett Johansson is an action star, no doubt.  At least, Lucy’s quick adaptations to her super powers stand apart from her Black Widow invincibility.  I like how she’s a lovey dovey airhead in the prologue of Besson’s movie and then evolves into a kind of walking bad ass super computer once the drugs kick in gradually doing more of their magic on her.

The ending gets really out there.  I never gave up on the movie, but I didn’t care to think through everything I was looking at.  Judging by Morgan Freeman’s face, neither was he.  He just wore the doctor’s coat.  Besson goes all over the place with wrapping up this short story, designed to be a graphic manga novel. 

The cuts and edits are exhilarating and thankfully Lucy spares us of just endless hand to hand combat stuff, like John Wick.  This movie relies more on superpower material trickery.  Still, it really gets out there.  Like out there to other places.  Like out there to other periods of time.

If Stanley Kubrick were to make an action movie…

Look, at least I bought into all of it because frankly if I’d used any more than 10% of my brain, I’d likely tear the whole movie apart.

LEAVE HER TO HEAVEN

By Marc S. Sanders

Martin Scorsese declared that Gene Tierney is one of the most underrated actresses of all time.  It’s likely her femme fatale performance in Leave Her To Heaven supports that argument.  Miguel mistakenly left his Criterion copy at my house and on a whim, I popped it into the machine.  With no knowledge of what the film was about, I gradually found myself stunned as the story initially unfolds as a meet-cute encounter between a charming novelist and a stunning, pleasant woman who get caught up in a whirlwind romance that turns questionably eerie.

The author is Richard Harland (Cornel Wilde).  He meets the voluptuous Ellen (Tierny) sitting cross from him on a passenger train car.  She just happens to be reading his latest best seller, and she takes to him at first sight because he looks strikingly familiar to her deceased father.  It’s also convenient to know they have the same destination at a retreat ranch in New Mexico.  Ellen’s mother, Margaret (Mary Philips), and her adopted sister (or maybe not?), Ruth (Jeanne Crain) are also staying there.  The ladies are actually going to spread father’s ashes high up on a mountain top nearby.

Richard is captivated with Ellen but respects her boundaries when he learns that she’s engaged to marry Russell Quinton (Vincent Price), an imposing man who is running for district attorney in Boston, Massachusetts.  That changes very quickly upon Russell’s surprise visit one night, where Ellen announces in front of everyone, including Richard, that she is now engaged to the writer.  Richard may be caught off guard, but he’s thrilled to spend his future with this alluring woman.  

Everything seems idyllic.  Ellen caters to his every whim without even be asked. She cooks and cleans for him and insists on not hiring a housekeeper to do such chores.

Richard is also quite fond of Ruth and Margaret, and he’s certain that Ellen will take kindly to his younger brother Danny (Darryl Hickman).  Danny resides at physical therapy home in Georgia.  He’s unable to walk but hoping to soon.  That doesn’t hinder his enthusiasm for his new sister in law and more time with his brother.

Everything seems perfect, and yet there are expressions and random observations about Ellen that leave all but Danny and Richard with trepidation.  Ruth and Margaret are kind people, but they seem to have reservations about Ellen’s intentions.  Who should Richard be cautious of though?  

Leave Her To Heaven relies upon a diabolical personality hiding in plain sight.  It begins with a lawyer telling some folks the story of Richard’s time with Ellen.  Richard arrives at a lakeside dock in Maine, and then he is on his way by canoe to visit a woman at a getaway cottage on the other side of the lake.  He’s been through some kind of ordeal.  It’s not clear what woman he’s going to see and why, nor what he’s recently endured.  The lawyer’s story has much to spell out.

Growing up in the 1980s and 90s, this film noir feels like it carries influence towards more modern classics like Fatal Attraction and The Hand That Rocks The Cradle, and even the recent sleeper hit of 2025, The Housemaid with Sydney Sweeney and Amanda Seyfried (which I highly recommend). Especially effective is how trustworthy John M Stahl’s scenes of exposition seem.  At any point his film, adapted from the novel by Ben Ames Williams, could have steered in the direction of glowing optimism and promising possibilities.  Having not known where the story was going to take me enhanced my experience with the picture.  Gene Tierney’s lovely and later disturbing composition kept me alert and when later moments occur that leave no doubt of what her goals are, the suspense held on to a haunting pinnacle.  

The third act relies heavily on Vincent Price’s contributions, and he is a superb antagonist.  He’s far from the eerie B-fest persona that made him famous, but he is largely intimidating.  Still, his material is written to be extremely contrived as the screenplay resorts to lopsided courtroom drama.  Leave Her To Heaven is fully aware it’s not following legitimate protocol in a standard trial.  The courtroom setting operates more like a conduit to tie up loose ends and ensure all the pertinent characters get on the same page.  With Vincent Price driving the narrative, the thrills remain upheld.

The Technicolor on the Criterion edition deserves praise. For a film noir from 1945, this restoration looks entirely modern and and with the exception of the courtroom scenes, never feels outdated. When you’ve run out of Alfred Hitchcock material to bite your nails on, Leave Her To Heaven is a very good and solid alternative.  

Best advice, be careful when you fall in love at first sight.

STAY IN THE CAR

By Marc S. Sanders

Calvin Ghaznavi directs a seven-and-a-half-minute short film called, Stay In The Car, that’s long on tension while limited on dialogue.  

Not much needs to be said to understand that a fifteen-year-old girl named Salem (Lara Hunter) is alert, yet terrified, while being left to her own abandon in the front seat of an El Camino.  It’s the middle of the night and her strung out mother (Ashley Alva) is on a mission with a stranger (Timothy V Murphy) sitting in the passenger side.  The title of this of this picture tells us what Salem is instructed to do.  The conflict is if Salem will oblige.  

Amanda Ross was inspired to write this haunting anecdote based on a real life experience.  Lara Hunter is her real life daughter reenacting the scenario.  Hunter’s expressions of fear and confusion are striking.  We only know so much as what she sees.  Perhaps Salem will become a witness brought in for questioning about this night where her mother and this stranger visited a hotel and returned with a bloody wrench.  At another stop, one less person returns to the car.  That’s all Salem knows.  That’s all we know.  

Ghazvani is very focused on primarily providing close ups.  We don’t know how the adults know one another or what they are striving for.  We don’t get to see the back seat of the car, or where it’s traveling to next.  All we know is that Salem likely relies on teenage fun like wearing colorful wristbands. The hula dancing ornament on the dashboard doesn’t belong in this scenario either. It was there from another time; maybe Salem and mom picked it up at novelty store during a happier time. It’s convincing that Salem does not belong in a tense filled situation like this.  Salem’s normality has suddenly turned nightmarish.

Stay In The Car does not so much explain a story as it offers a perspective where a child is submerged in a circumstance of darkness, wet roads, violent aftermaths, distant sirens and overwhelming uncertainty. Ghaznavi and Ross should expand on the seeds of what they’ve created.  There’s potential for a thrilling and thought-provoking story at play.  What happened before Salem (or Amanda) stayed in the car?  What happened afterwards?  With less than eight minutes to see for myself, I’m dying to know more.

FLOW (Latvia)

By Marc S. Sanders

It’s fair to argue that there is more imagination in less than ninety minutes of the 2024 Oscar winning animated feature, Flow, than a combined ten movies out of the Marvel Cinematic Universe.  Even more incredible is there is not an ounce of dialogue, nor a shred of a human narrative weaved into the storyline.  Assembled with the resources of twenty-two different production companies, I declare that Flow is an apocalyptic film, completely humane with the absolute absence of humanity.  

A small black cat roams a dense jungle area, maybe located in Western Asia, with only a need for exploration.  When the yellow eyed feline is done for a day, it routinely retires to an upper-level window in an abandoned house.  Someone, at some time, had an affection for cats as our main character is surrounded by carved out statues of fellow felines. The only threat is when it gets pursued by a pack of enthusiastic dogs.  The cat has the speed to its advantage though, and it’s an absolute treat to follow the rapid trajectory through a dense green jungle, up trees, across branches, under leaves and up and down hills.  

Cat’s normality changes however when a flooding deluge overtakes the land.  Soon there’s no longer any dry ground to toe upon or a tall enough height to evade the sudden depths of ocean water.  

Salvation arrives when Cat boards a beat-up sailboat along with a capybara, a lemur, a secretary bird and a golden retriever.  Five different creatures will have to hold out for survival in a vehicle, unfamiliar to them, while learning to argue, cooperate and work together.

The craft of Flow is like no other I’ve ever seen.  The animation was not completed with computer technology.  IMDb states that it was done by means of a “Blender” method, which I’m not entirely clear on.  However, I don’t require a description.  The finished product had me entirely immersed in this perplexing world.  I was as confused and worried as Cat, not knowing what, how or why the world suddenly changed and what can happen now.

Director Gints Zilbalodis, also one of the writers, includes perilous moments for our animals when a wave will tumble the boat suddenly, or an aggressive rainstorm will arrive.  A member of the boat will often find themselves tossed into the depths.  

It’s always a little alarming when a new animal boards the vessel.  Especially nerve wracking is when Cat suddenly falls into the water among some of the most colorful fish ever.  Cat has an undying resilience, but treading to the surface and getting back on the boat is never easy. Zilbalodis’s camera goes well under the surface and then back up just as you might when treading in the ocean.  To swim in the ocean is not for the lazy or relaxed.  Your body must always work hard.  Trust me when I tell you I often felt a lump in my throat each time Cat’s perspective submerged into the dark aquatic depths with an absence of sound from a breeze or another animal cry.

The behaviors of the creatures seem to happen so involuntarily with an intrinsic nature.  Both the sleepy capybara and the long-legged secretary bird find a way to control the sail of the boat.  The bird can be especially set in its way.  Cat and dog seem to develop a trust for the how the boat is steered by their fellow navigators.  Lemur likes to keep to himself with the trinkets he selfishly hoards.  His most curious item is a handheld mirror where he finds someone that looks just like him.  

I was curious how the adventures of Flow would conclude.  This is an unusual world and surely these creatures cannot last forever on a distressed sailboat with no food and no destination in sight except for a far away tower peak way beyond the visible limits of open water.  I developed such a concern for each animal in this story, especially the cat.  The helplessness of the meows and the retriever’s woofs had me terribly worried.  When cat or one of the other animals gets separated, I was nervous if that is the last we’ll see of the comrades.  Flow is a quietly beautiful picture, but it is also especially stressful.  Being lost and confused with limited resources and no help has to be one of the most frightening circumstances for any species.  

Homeless or not, all creatures have an environment they grow accustomed to.  When it is taken away, it’s hard to rely just on instinct for an unwelcome change or interruption.  Even a prehistoric looking whale endures a similar experience to the other animal characters.  Yet, intuition and a will to trust has to motivate us to take chances and accept the necessity of risk.  This solemn black cat has more courage than almost any talking Disney or Warner Brothers animal I’ve ever seen before, and its petite kitten size with solemn yellow eyes never sheds confidence.  This creature knows the luxury of fear and surrender is never an option, not even when its friends are in danger.

The artistic design of this water world is so absorbing.  Flow is full of gorgeous color as well as lack thereof.  Every branch or leaf or sea creature or rain drop tells a story and enhances this world without compromise.  The murky depths of the water show no bottom.  When cat is underwater, often it feels like there is no top or anything waiting for his return.  Nothing is simply black.  Rather, underwater is only what can be seen in front of our eyes.  Sometimes cat gets drifted off of the screen.  Now I feel lost because cat is my leader.  I want cat to find me.  I have no capability in finding cat and if I don’t, I’m resigned helplessly in an endless, inflexible void.

Gints Zilbalodis’ film, produced out of the country of Latvia, is a masterful and crowning achievement.  I urge you to carve ninety minutes out of your day to watch this glorious picture on the biggest screen you can find with the crispest surround sound set up available.  You’ll find yourself on a tour of a place on the earth untouched by humans, while seeing how other creatures capably survive together.

One of the greatest animated films I’ve ever seen or been touched by.  

Flow demonstrates there are no limits to our storytelling imaginations or abilities.  

And…suddenly I’m a cat lover!

THE PRINCESS BRIDE

By Marc S. Sanders

The Princess Bride, Rob Reiner’s whimsical storybook fantasy come to life by means of a grandfather (Peter Falk) reading to his bedridden grandson (Fred Savage), has taken on an everlasting life of its own.  Though it’s not my favorite movie, it’s way up there for my wife, adjacent to Grease 2. I find it to be cute, but lacking a pulse on occasion.  Sorry, but for me a lot of the characters and moments are simply sleepy.  Maybe it’s literally too much of a bedtime story. Still, I do not frown on its pop culture touchstones since its release forty years ago.

Famed screenwriter William Goldman adapts his book that includes heroics and romance, along with swordplay and fire swamps haunted with R.O.U.S’s.  

A beautiful girl called Buttercup (Robin Wright, in her debut role) falls in love with a farm boy named Westley (Cary Elwes) who tends to any of her demands by responding with the simple catchphrase “As you wish.”  Though, just as the pair confess their affections for each other, Westley is thought to be killed by pirates.

Five years pass and Prince Humperdinck (Chris Sarandon) has declared that Buttercup is to be his bride.  The lady has no say in the matter and stands fast that she will never love again as long as Westley is gone. 

Buttercup is taken captive by three strangers. Vizinni, proud of his brilliant mind, Inigo Montoya an expert swordsman bent on avenging the six fingered man who killed his father, and Fezzick, the lovable giant.  (Respectively portrayed by Wallace Shawn, Mandy Patinkin, and Andre The Giant). 

But wait!!!! A masked man dressed in black takes up pursuit to rescue the kidnapped girl.

Everything looks familiar in The Princess Bride.  What has made the film so special is the attempts for comedy based on one liners and puns.  Billy Crystal is Miracle Max, the old healer, but with his Jewish New Yorker schtick for a personality.  Carol Kane compliments him well as the nagging wife.  Prince Humperdinck has people to kill and frame and a kingdom to overthrow, all while planning to marry Buttercup.  He’s swamped!  I love the sermon focused on “MAAWIDGE” delivered by the kingdom’s clergyman (my introduction to Peter Cook).  These moments of dry comedy make up for some unexciting leading characters.

Try as I might I have trouble understanding what Andre and Patinkin are saying beneath their dialects.  That’s an issue that takes me out of the movie. Patinkin moves gracefully with action, but his personality is sleep inducing.  Even with a Spaniard’s accent, he comes off very flat.  Christopher Guest is also here as Humperdinck’s right-hand man.  With This Is Spinal Tap! and his own mockumentaries, especially Waiting For Guffman, Guest’s appearance here is a bit of a letdown.  The guy is a perfect comic but he’s so dry and unexciting here.

Cary Elwes is dashingly handsome with his blond locks and a wry grin.  The sword fight with Patinkin is one for the ages, despite the blah music behind it and the artificial looking rock like set.

The soundtrack plays like a kid’s electric keyboard and the sets, while decorated impressively, still look like they are residing in a soundstage warehouse.  The beauty of fantasy is the escape.  The imagery must look convincingly like another world entirely.  Here I could never get past the fact that nearly everything from the fire swamp to the pit of despair and the castle looks like something from my fourth-grade play.  The costumes work.  The environments look too crafted out of spray-painted cardboard and paper mache, though. 

Robin Wright is the princess.  She’s beautiful, but there’s not much demanded of her from Goldman’s script except for a graceful English accent.

My favorite is Vezinni.  Wallace Shawn is simply doing Wallace Shawn and that’s absolutely fine by me.  The bratty Jewish guy with the lisp who operates with the most energy in the cast next to Crystal and Cook.  The best scene of the whole movie doesn’t include the screaming eels or a sword fight.  It’s actually when Shawn shares a moment with Elwes in a battle of wits.  Goldman writes his best dialogue here as Vizinni explains layers upon layers of logic because anything that Westley can think of can only be “INCONCEIVABLE!”  This scene plays like the best of Saturday Night Live or The Daily Show.  Truly one of my favorite comedy moments ever.

I like The Princess Bride.  I just don’t love it like so many ardent fans.  My hang ups just keep me out of the picture, and I think about what I want for dinner rather than where my full attention should be – the rescue of Buttercup.

Nevertheless, I love Rob Reiner for making such a film.  Too often the standard princess in the castle formula is reserved for Disney blueprints.  Goldman and Reiner colored outside the lines to lend comedic self-depreciation to the regular tropes.  I only wish they heightened their efforts a little more.

I miss Rob Reiner.  It’s a terrible loss and the tragic fate he shared with his wife is not only unfair to them but to the world of moviegoers and beyond.  He delivered bi-partisan opinions on politics, always looking to improve his country.  The height of his career might have been in the 1980s & 90s (This Is Spinal Tap, Stand By Me, The Princess Bride, A Few Good Men, Misery, The American President, When Harry Met Sally…) but he always remained a treasured filmmaker and occasional actor in surprising roles (The Wolf Of Wall Street, Sleepless In Seattle).  He’ll also always be “Meathead.”  Sadly, when I return to these special and often groundbreaking movies, there’s now a tragic mark on the experience.  How can I not think about what Reiner would still have contributed to the world had his life and ongoing legacy not been ripped away so brutally and unnaturally? 

It’s truly inconceivable.

GOOD WILL HUNTING

By Marc S. Sanders


I went to a prestigious private high school.  I was never a genius but I primarily got As and Bs.  However, when I reflect on my four years there, I believe I always had to bust my ass for those grades simply to keep up with the rest of the class, comprised of sixty students.  The majority of my classmates never looked like they overexerted themselves.  With my dad hammering at me to turn a 96 into a 100, disguised as sarcasm that painfully bit me every time, I was a very insecure kid among this community of students primed for Ivy League.  One student could look at the page of a book for seven seconds and absorb all of the information in print. There’s a quick transitional moment where Will Hunting, Good Will Hunting, exponentially accomplishes such a feat.  Only difference is he reads a renowned therapist’s best selling book from cover to cover in minutes.  Thereafter, he’s able to conclude that the author likely conceals his homosexuality due to shame.  Will Hunting has one of the most gifted minds in history, but hides it beneath what he says with his fists in the Southie schoolyards of Boston accompanied with a brutal vernacular, telling anyone who challenges him to “f’ack off.”

The title character is magnificently played by Matt Damon, who co-wrote this script with his childhood best friend and Harvard classmate, Ben Affleck.  The film was directed by Gus Van Sant and went on to earn Oscars for the original screenplay, and for Robin Williams in a supporting role.  Seven other nominations were also applauded for the film.  

In the year that Titanic ruled the box office, it was Damon and Affleck’s little project that stayed afloat with $220 million in worldwide revenues on a $10 million dollar budget.  I consider their achievements as great as what Sylvester Stallone accomplished when he sold his script for Rocky.  Collectively, they have at least inspired me to follow through with writing my own original plays.

Will is an orphaned twenty-year-old janitor who mops the floors of the mathematics building at M.I.T.  The esteemed and self-confident Professor Gerald “Gerry” Lambeau (Stellan Skarsgård) posts an extremely complex math problem on the hallway blackboard allowing his students the opportunity for “greatness” if any of them can solve it before the end of the semester.  Overnight, it has been solved but no one takes credit for it.  It’s only later when Gerry and his faithful assistant Tom (Tom & Jerry!  HA!) realize that Will, the foul-mouthed janitor, is the kid with all the answers.  Amazingly though, he’s serving time for assaulting a police officer while starting a neighborhood gang brawl.  

Gerry has to groom this kid and shape him so that he can take credit for sharing Will’s brilliance with the world.  A judge agrees to release Will under the condition that he routinely meets with a therapist to deal with his anger issues.  Gerry eventually turns to his estranged friend and college roommate Sean (Robin Williams) who grew up in the same neighborhood as Will. Will might discover that he has more in common with Sean than he realizes.

No matter how many times I watch Good Will Hunting, I visualize a strong structure to its character make up, and that gives enforcement to the story.  In the center of this nucleus is Will.  Lines are connected to people who have a concern for him and his future.  

First, there is his pal Chuckie (Affleck).  With their buddies Morgan and Billy (Casey Affleck, Cole Hauser), the guys routinely drive around all day into the night drinking, smoking, and hanging around batting cages and bars.  Eventually, Chuckie will not be able to hold his tongue anymore and will have to lay out what Will should be doing beyond the nowhere life he leads now.

Next is Skylar played by Minnie Driver in a career turning portrayal as a sweet, sensitive and fun Harvard medical student. She shares a love story with Damon’s character that stands apart from so many other movies.  Their relationship builds as Skylar tries to understand all that Will is capable of while he hides behind the biggest of lies, like expecting her to believe that he has twelve older brothers, three of whom he currently lives with. He’s not proud of his super intelligence.  So, he resorts to making up what she might find impressive and unique about him.  

Gerry is proudly pompous as he carries his award-winning mathematical accolades with his designer scarves and sports coats, ensuring that Tom is always his follower, literally pacing a step behind.  Gerry may have Will’s best interests at heart, but it’s only because of his fascination with grooming the next Albert Einstein located within his own town.  As long as he can lay claim to the success of Will, then Gerry wants what is best for his discovery.  The question is whether Will wants what Gerry pursues.

Lastly, maybe the most important connection belongs to Sean.  A therapist and professor at Bunker Hill Community College who still mourns the death of his wife following an agonizing eight-year illness. Following an introduction where Will completely disarms Sean by examining a watercolor painting, Sean realizes that he must find a way to taper the patient’s super powered aptitude.  Will knows everything.  However, Sean must remind Will that he hasn’t experienced anything. Namely, love, responsibility and purpose.  Will’s weakness though is his “what-if” response to any opportunity that comes his way.  That weakness stems from his ability to foreshadow possibilities that he’d rather not face and overcome.  His nature is to see thirty steps ahead where everything derails for him and therefore undoes Will with opportunities for success and love.

Affleck and Damon carved a fully realized subject in their title character.  Their script runs episodically for Will with a different person in nearly every scene.  If Will is physically not in a scene, at the very least the moment still has something specifically to do with him.  In the second half of the movie, Gerry and Sean share moments where they debate and insist upon what they think is best for the prodigy.  Yet, the argument stems from their personal history together long before this kid entered their lives.  There’s a lot of deep thought and sensitivity written for Stellan Skarsgård and Robin Williams to rely upon for their performances.  

Apparently, the role of Skylar was not supposed to be British.  Yet, Minnie Driver delivers an Oscar nominated role by using her native tongue.  I like it because it shows Will encountering someone right for him who originates from outside of Boston, which is all he truly knows beyond the books he quickly skims through.  Skylar is an instinctual person.  She’d have to be to attend Harvard, but unlike Will with the untrained genius capabilities, she wants to learn about people who enter her life. Afar of therapy, mathematics and getting drunk with his buddies, Skylar is a pure, non-judgmental person for Will to share in his life.  He must figure out if he’s ready to take the gamble that she’s up for.  More importantly, as Sean will remind him, Skylar is not perfect and neither is Will.  

Chuckie may just be who Will has to sacrifice for any means of a promising future. I never thought Affleck was given much to do with his role until a concluding scene arrives in the third act.  He and Damon share a magnificent moment that seals the success of their script when the partnered screenwriters finally have to deliver an epiphany to their genius creation who carries a wealth of faults and personal demons. I like to think the context of this scene relies upon the real-life history of the two actors.  Harvey Weinstein, the producer, wanted Brad Pitt and Leonardo DiCaprio in these roles.  Tell me, do you think that would have worked as effectively?

Good Will Hunting allows for so much to think about.  Will is portrayed more of a curse to himself and the world than anything else.  The role of Tom played by a real mathematician, John Mighton, has at best ten to fifteen lines in the whole picture, but it’s his presence and disapproving response to Will’s behavior that say so much about the overachievers who attend schools like M.I.T. and Harvard.  

One of my favorite parts occurs when an accomplished professor insists to Gerry that a problem cannot be resolved.  Will bellows the answer as easy as breathing and the middle-aged professor is destroyed instantly.  Tom tries to console the poor man before he storms out of the room in unnerving frustration.  As well, Stellan Skarsgård’s character operates with earned conceit but gradually crumbles as his newfound apprentice minimizes all that he’s acquired over his lifetime.  

The only one who can overcome Will’s involuntary penchant for personal destruction is Robin Williams’ Sean who knows that academia and knowledge must not be what truly defines Will Hunting.  Compared to Will’s background, Sean has experienced similar childhood trauma. Chuckie stems from a similar environment.  So, it’s just as well that both Sean and Chuckie are likely the most appropriate to guide Will in the best, most appropriate direction.

Wait!!!! Look at me!!!! 

I’m dissecting the characters of Good Will Hunting and I’ve hardly critiqued the picture.  I’m sorry.  I guess the film does not invite much criticism when it covers so many dimensions related to mentality and environment, strengths and talents, and the side effects which spawn weakness.

Good Will Hunting is not a perfect movie. One particular moment irritates me to no end.  If you’ve seen the film, then maybe you feel the same as I do with the “Retainer!” scene.  Chuckie dons a ridiculous three-piece suit and goes as Will to a prestigious job interview where he capably corners the interviewers into a bribe.  I cannot fathom why this part made the final cut.  It comes off entirely silly and unrealistic and it pulls me out of the movie every time I watch it.  What interviewers for a prestigious firm would literally take cash out of their wallets and lay it dumbfounded on the table for a kid to collect?  I passionately hate this scene because, by comparison, I love the rest of the movie so much.

Anyway…

Robin Williams demonstrates how effective he is with drama and pain.  Perhaps his own personal hurt lent to his performance.  Watch the first scene when Sean meets Will.  The conversation moves from small talk sarcasm to unexpected anger that gets physical.  Watch how seamlessly Williams diverts from broad range describing a World Series game and then into something that his character treasures personally a watercolor painting.  Most importantly, take in his nearly five-minute monologue where Sean evaluates Will on a park bench and deflates the ego that comes with the boy’s natural talent.   He talks about the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel and being in love and later mourning a loss.  Williams, with Affleck and Damon’s words, paints one picture after another to demonstrate what Will has no business discussing at all.  Not yet at least. (My wife and I sat on that bench in Boston.  Just to be there in that spot was exhilarating for us.)

Matt Damon delivered the third of a trifecta of super talented young characters who had to mold their best traits.  See Rounders and The Rainmaker.  This leading performance sealed the success of his outstanding career.  Think about it though.  Matt Damon is such a wise, studious actor.  He learns the unique languages and behaviors of his characters.  Look at these movies, but also look back on his portrayal of super spy Jason Bourne, another kind of savant with extraordinary talents that get beyond his personal control.  Parts like these seemed catered for Damon, not fellow actors like DiCaprio, Wahlberg, or Affleck.  Damon’s characters go through similar arcs, but each is entirely unique.

Good Will Hunting was a new kind of coming-of-age film, far ahead of the James Dean and John Hughes fare from prior decades.  For the film to effectively work, its script had to speak as smart as its characters.  Gus Van Sant recognized the insight and internal conflicts of guys like Sean, Gerry and Will.  All three men are incredibly smart, but they never found a way to live with each other nor had they yet to uncover inner peace.  By the end of this movie, perhaps you’ll agree they all have, especially good Will Hunting.

MELANIA

By Marc S. Sanders

Self-absorption is an expense of time for the outsiders looking in.  At an hour and forty-one minutes, the time I spent to watch Melania Trump’s documentary, Melania, was a terrible cost.  

The First Lady’s exploration of herself covers her personal experiences in the twenty days before the second inauguration of President Donald J Trump on January 20, 2025.  Frankly, after the movie kicks off with a needle drop of The Rolling Stones’ Gimme Shelter (a favorite of mine), the mundane slugs on an endless runway.  

Brett Ratner, the director who nearly destroyed the celebrated X-Men franchise and delivered too many Rush Hour films, covers Mrs. Trump walking in slow motion…a lot…like way, way, way too much.  The first five minutes, even after the credits have finished, show Melania walk down hallways, step into elevators, step out of elevators and walk down more hallways into parking garages adorned with Trump campaign posters (great art direction) to get into a limousine that takes her to the airport to board a corporate Trump plane. Then we get to see her stride down the middle aisle that divides impeccable white leather, upholstered chairs.  It’s like…MELANIA IS REALLY DOING ALL THESE THINGS.  And I get to see it???? Me??? Really???

She’s a rock star or a superhero or perhaps she is simply MELANIA, because no one else could ever be THE MELANIA.

The main subject explains in monotone voiceover how she wants to cover the time she invests as a philanthropist and businesswoman in the days leading up to the inauguration.  So, we get right to the important things first like deciding if her evening gown is tight enough around her waist and neck, and if the lapels on her suit need to be bigger.  Hopefully, the designer can alter the collar on her white blouse.  Plus, how should the shoulders look?  There’s much to talk about.  So, Ratner is wise enough to return to these pressing topics later when Melania single-handedly decides that the white band around her infamous lampshade hat, worn on Inauguration Day, is not narrow enough.  Business! Philanthropy!

Staged interviews with young ladies looking to earn a position as Melanie’s personal assistant are weaved into the picture.  I learned that the job is simply not 9-to-5 work.  

I cannot say I’m a fan of Melania Trump.  I do not think I’ve been a fan of any First Lady.  I don’t know much about any of them.  Though I was impressed when Arnold, Dudley and Mr. Drummond got to meet Nancy Reagan on Diff’rent Strokes with her Just Say No campaign.  Reader, as an eleven year old it had an impact on me.  It was straightforward, simple and to the point. Plus, she was friends with Mr. T.  So, job well done Mrs. Reagan!  Now, I was curious what could I gain from our current First Lady.  Here was her opportunity to show us her very best.  

Melania does a zoom call with the First Lady of France to declare her push for her Be Best campaign.  The logo is written in blue crayon font.  It’s cute.  It’s eye catching and I never learn anything about it.  I’m guessing it is aimed at children, but what is it precisely doing to benefit children?  What tactics are being planned? What’s being executed?  What events are taking place?  Will Melania at least go to the Kids Choice Awards and get a pie in the face on Nickelodeon?  C’mon Melania!  Do it in the name of Be Best.

The most admirable moment in this self-described documentary is when Melania gets a visit from Aviva Siegel, an Israeli kidnap survivor from the Hamas attacks on October 7.  She wears a shirt that shows an image of her husband Keith who was still in captivity at the time of this filming.  This scene occupies about three and a half minutes of the entire movie.  Aviva is welcomed to cry on camera while Melania’s profile is shot from across the sofa in a New York high-rise apartment.  Melania doesn’t cry, doesn’t quiver, doesn’t ask a single question that I can recall serves any kind of consequence.  Yet, the one-time fashion model complements Aviva’s shirt and how it looks on the poor woman.  No promises or assurances are made in this brief moment.  They sit on a grey sofa.  Not a bed.  So, don’t expect bedside manners.

On to the party planning for the inauguration dinners and celebrations plus more wardrobe insight customized exclusively for the First Lady.  My wife watches reality shows showing home decor and reconstruction.  My parents would watch Lifestyles Of The Rich & Famous during the decadent 1980s.  What those programs accomplish that Ratner and Trump do not are the whys and hows.  Why did this millionaire need that kind curtain.  What drew them to those colors and patterns.  Why call the yacht this particular name, and so on. Melania simply goes for the gold trim in the napkins and tableware.  

She loves fashion designer Hervé Pierre’s evening gown, white with a black zig zag of fabric down the front and a high slit at the leg.  Now, let me tell you.  This is a dress!!!! It’s gorgeous and she looks gorgeous wearing it on the evening of January 20, 2025.  Yet, for a film that devotes so much to this object how about telling me something about the inspiration for the design.  If you’re going to invest so much into this piece of craftsmanship, then at least go deeper than having the woman literally look at herself in a mirror.

As the film is winding down a part of the country is on burning uncontrollably.  The California wildfires that displaced so many people were happening ahead of Trump’s inauguration.  Melania takes it upon herself to sit cross legged on a leather sofa in her ready room in front of a flat screen to watch the happenings unfold on FOX News.  An expensive piece of artwork dangles behind her head.  Her voiceover tells us that her heart breaks while Ratner gets close ups of her stunning blue eyes adorned in perfectly coifed mascara.  It’s ridiculous how hollow this looks.  An absence of emotion and sincerity.  You could have avoided making so light of this terrible period by just not having her reflect at all.  Melania is generous, however.  She allows her heart to break.

The First Lady’s husband makes appearances insisting to his wife that he won in landslides across various states.  We see him test one of his staffers who is unable to explain why championship sports are scheduled on the same day as the inauguration.  Is this anything that anyone can learn from?  Brett Ratner arguably has access to most of what the Trump staff and family can extend, and this is a nothing piece of nothing.

Melania mentions how her loving mother passed away a year prior and how she ran a fashion business that inspired her daughter to follow a similar path.  Where and when was this business in operation?  What was the name of it? The son in law Donald tells us that they loved her very much and she was a hell of a woman.  Melania’s dad will reside at The White House.  What else can we know?

Barron is Melania’s son with Donald.  He never speaks.  He’s shot from a distance. Never shows affection for mom and dad, but mom hopes he chooses a path that makes him happy.  Finally, a parent admits it!!!  

Melania’s attempt at bi-partisan openness has her attending Jimmy Carter’s funeral.  I’ll say he’s one of the worst Presidents in American history.  However, his philanthropic work following his service is second to none.  Unquestionably, a good soul.  Melania cannot even say that.  Brett Ratner is not insightful enough to prompt the First Lady for a few words about Carter’s contributions.  

Towards the end of the film, portraits of Jackie Kennedy, Eleanor Roosevelt and Mamie Eisenhower are shared.  Why?  I dunno.  I guess I’m supposed to gather that Melania Trump carries on a legacy.  Do Melania or Melania or these filmmakers know the specific contributions of Mrs. Kennedy, Mrs. Roosevelt and Mrs.  Eisenhower, and what they personally mean to them?  Truly, I can’t say off the top of my head.  However, I’m not a First Lady making a movie about myself or my esteemed position.  So, tell me what it means to you.  Allow me to learn more than how your hat or your suit or your gown should look on you.  

Be Best? How?  

Homes are burning?  Anything you gonna do about it?  

A husband remains missing?  Is there someone you can call?  I mean I’m aware of the obstacles that come with politics and international affairs, but maybe this worried wife could gain from prayer with a Rabbi and you by her side.  

I’m never expecting Melania Trump to singlehandedly fix the world.  All I’m asking for is what she declared herself to be.  A businesswoman and a philanthropist.  

Mrs. Trump is a Michael Jackson fan, and her favorite song is Billie Jean.  She barely flexes herself in the back of her limo to sing along.  So, I get it when that song comes on at the beginning of the film.  It might be the most genuine, insightful portrait of the whole documentary simply because it shows a small shred of natural humanity in the woman.  That being said, why open the movie with the Stones’ Gimme Shelter?  It’s gritty and gives me images of struggle, doom and grit.  A dirty, garage band kind of song.  The outer shell of Melania Trump is anything but a single riff or note of the Stones’ song. So why?  I guess because the rights to use the number must be expensive, and money is no object to this superhero’s fanbase.  The sacrifice this woman does from one outfit to another, from one limousine to another, from one estate to another.  

No!  Being First Lady is certainly not a 9 to 5 job.

Ratner concludes Melania by shooting his subject leaning on her fists against a glass table-topped desk for professional photos.  She looks like a superhero ready to take on the world.  Honestly, if Melania Trump were to enter a phone booth to change into her costume and don a cape, she wouldn’t be able to find the door to let herself out.