Category: Comedy

TOOTSIE

By Marc S. Sanders

Tootsie is my favorite comedy of all time.  At age ten I saw it on Christmas Eve with my family and beyond the Star Wars and Rocky films, I had yet to see an audience respond, or more specifically laugh, so uncontrollably for two hours straight.  I might not have recognized all of the innuendo and I was not yet alert to the idea of women feeling belittled while knowing they should be entitled to equal respect, but the performances, especially from Dustin Hoffman were entirely genuine.  Tootsie still remains the only film where I can forget that a man, a not so attractive or sexy man, is convincingly disguising himself as a woman who possesses internal strength and gusto.

Whether directing or acting on screen, Sydney Pollack was not someone well known for overseeing comedy at the time.  Yet, that’s an attribute to the end product of this celebrated movie.  Other than a typical Bill Murray routine in an uncredited role, no one in this picture is waving their hands in the air to insist they’re funny.  The humor of Tootsie bears from true, raw emotion, fear and desperation.  No one is doing Saturday Night Live sketches and building up to the next punchline.  Despite the cross dressing, Tootsie is not even a farce.  A guy gets a job wearing the necessary garb and modifying his verbiage, but only to earn enough money to survive.  However, it also doesn’t help that he’s falling for his co-worker.  

Dustin Hoffman is an actor living in New York City named Michael Dorsey.  He’s a great, learned performer, especially on the stage, who lives with his playwright buddy Jeff (Murray) in a crummy apartment in the meat packing district.  They need to raise enough money to put on Jeff’s play in Syracuse.  

The problem is that Michael can no longer get cast in anything.  Not on stage or even in a commercial.  His agent (Pollack) says it point blank that nobody will hire him.  He’s just too difficult with short bursts of temper and no tolerance for others who work in the field.  

So, Michael surrenders to desperation and puts on the guise of a character actress named Dorothy Michaels.  As quick as she stands up for femininity against a chauvinistic TV director (Dabney Coleman) she is cast on the most watched daytime soap opera.  As long as Michael can perform off and on camera as Dorothy he should be able to earn more than enough money for Jeff’s play.

Complications arise though when he becomes protective of his co-star, Julie (Jessica Lange, in her Oscar winning role), against her unfaithful boyfriend, the TV director.  Julie’s widowed father, Les, is falling for Dorothy though, and then there is Michael’s friend Sandy (Teri Garr) who lost out on the part that he earned, and to keep things maintained has been seduced by Michael into a romantic relationship beyond just their friendship.

With me so far?  I hope so because there’s even more obstacles to overcome.  Tootsie is very economical in its story development, but it’s also a very crowded film.

Don McGuire and Larry Gelbart (TV’s M*A*S*H) wrote this Oscar nominated script with a brilliant collection of characters.  The blessing is while it sounds like farce, Tootsie is never delivered with a slapstick tongue.  In order for the film to work, Dustin Hoffman especially had to portray Michael Dorsey as a guy with natural ticks, motivations and fears.  He accomplishes that because Michael always ensures that Dorothy is as real as she can ever be.  When Dorothy hails a cab or shops for clothes the southern accent must hold while perusing through the city streets in heels.  Michael gets frustrated over what to wear for a dinner visit at Julie’s apartment.  Especially when Julie opens up her heart, Hoffman is precise to make sure Dorothy approaches with a low whispered approach to simply be a consoling girlfriend.  

The comedy arrives when Michael has no other choice but to break this strong powered female persona.  Dorothy will call for a cab but if it just won’t stop, then a deep voiced, bellowing New Yorker will come out of this woman’s mouth with an angry “TAXI!!!”  I like to believe that Sydney Pollack deliberately arranged for Dorothy to yank a Woody Allen lookalike out of a cab that was about to be taken from Dorothy too.  Dustin Hoffman knows Michael Dorsey is such a committed method actor that he has to convince all eight million people in New York he is strong willed Dorothy Michaels – a character actress capable of playing the new Hospital Administrator on Southwest General. 

There are so many fleshed out pairs of relationships in Tootsie – all going beyond the cross dressing of the film’s main character.  All of these people could get along forever if only for the fact that some characters have befriended a man while others truly believe they have made a connection with a woman.  How long can we have it both ways?  The facade has to undo itself, right?  True.  Thankfully it occurs at the end when every single character can have it explained to them all at once.  I’ve never forgotten the roars of laughter from my mom, dad and grandmother as the end of Tootsie arrived.  Well-placed close-up shots of every actor who had a speaking role in this movie is covered (well except for Sydney Pollack as Michael’s agent). On Christmas Eve in 1982, the packed movie house at the Forum Theater on Route 4 in Paramus NJ only amplified the shocking reactions.  Tootsie is a reason why you sit among a crowd at a movie theater.  

This is Dustin Hoffman’s all-time best performance.  He was nominated against fierce competition from Paul Newman in The Verdict, Jack Lemmon in Missing, and Ben Kingsley in Ghandi (who took home the trophy). Michael Dorsey/Dorothy Michaels is a much more challenging role than what Hoffman superbly accomplished in his two Oscar winning roles (Kramer Vs Kramer, Rain Man).  Robin Williams or Tom Hanks could have played Michael Dorsey who invents Dorothy Michaels.  Yet, what Hoffman emotes are the natural tics of a guy who is constantly broke while he charms an array of women at his birthday party, only with the intention of bedding them and hardly ever listening to what these ladies have to say.  When Hoffman puts Michael literally in a pair of woman’s shoes though, he begins to identify the lack of respect that women endure on a daily basis.  

Watch Dustin Hoffman’s body language.  He becomes angered with his agent upon learning that he lost out on a role which somehow leads to a debate about whether a tomato should walk or talk or sit or stand.  That back and forth is outrageously hilarious.  Having seen Tootsie hundreds of times though, I now appreciate how a schleppy looking Michael hustles across the streets of New York, avoiding traffic and then marches down the hallway to his agent’s office.  Hoffman twitches his head and shrugs his shoulders as if he’s prepping to give the agent a piece of his mind.  Hoffman is so absorbed in this guy he’s playing.  I am not recognizing any other kind of Dustin Hoffman that I’ve seen anywhere else.

Sydney Pollack is also attuned to the cutthroat atmosphere of desperate theater folk trying to survive in this concrete jungle.  Tootsie opens with a montage of quick episodes for Michael.  He is leading a workshop while being candidly ugly with his fellow thespian students about how challenging it is to get work.  In between, are auditions that he goes on where there is one reason after another why he can’t land a role.  Michael Dorsey is an incredibly skillful actor, but that means nothing for this role or that role.

On this most recent viewing I caught on to a detail that never occurred to me.  Bill Murray as Jeff, the broke playwright, is snacking on lemons and wincing while he talks to Michael.  Now I don’t know if this is in the script or if this was Pollack or Murray’s idea.  Nevertheless, it’s a brilliant detail.  These guys are so broke that they have resorted to smuggling lemon slices out of the restaurant they work at to live off of.  Another actor or filmmaker would have used an orange or cookies.  Who snacks on lemons?  Only those with nothing else to rely on.  

Makeup bottles with spirit gum, cannisters of fake blood, prosthetic teeth, props and sloppily hung costume wear are all given focus beyond the broad comedic storylines.  Sydney Pollack pans his camera over all of these items with no actors in frame because he wanted to ensure that being an actor or a playwright in New York is nothing glamorous.  It’s a world of unending torment. All of these nuances and details justify the extremes that Michael has to go through to achieve his goal.  

Jessica Lange never plays her role for laughs.  Her portrayal of Julie, the beautiful, blond celebrity of daytime television, is authentic and she inherits a new girlfriend to confide in. Finally, Julie can share what she values and holds dear.  You can’t not fall in love with someone who only treasures the best parts of her young life and yet only seeks a companion to chat with.  A humble celebrity is hard to find and that is one reason Michael falls hard for her.  Lange is outstanding while being so heartfelt.

Teri Garr’s comedy stems from the insecurities of actors.  Sandy is described as someone who wants to commit suicide at a birthday party.  Doing community theater for over thirty years I know precisely who this person is.  I’ve been this person, and I’ve encountered hundreds of these people.  It’s hard to be a big fish in the small pond of community theater.  Imagine trying to hold on to your sanity when you have to compete with all of New York.  Teri Garr was rightly Oscar nominated for what could have been a throwaway part. Like Hoffman she also has these little gestures that suggest her lack of confidence. After she sleeps with Michael and he’s getting ready to leave, Garr peaks at her naked chest hidden underneath the sheets.  It’s as if she’s wondering was I not attractive enough.  She’s hurting. No matter if she just had sex with one of her favorite people, she is still suffering.

Charles Durning is familiar for having the tough guy, intimidating persona because he’s usually so much larger than life.  However, he offers a sweetness to this guy who’s ready for companionship.  You don’t want Michael or Dorothy to let him down.  Les doesn’t deserve to get hurt.

Again, as I described any of these characterizations, none of it is funny.  They are wrapped in sensitivity. There’s a lonely sadness to people like Michael, Jeff, Julie, Sandy and Les.  Yet, when this variety of sorrow and anguish collide, while poor Michael is only trying to make some money, does it all combust in hilariously, unwinnable scenarios of tremendous proportions.

Tootsie is an amazing film.  It is one of the smartest, most insightful scripts ever written and it is blessed with a cast and director who mastered how to live in an unforgiving and unsympathetic industry.  This picture offers lessons in the human spirit while demonstrating the lengths and boundaries that must be broken in order to survive.  By practically not performing as a comedy, it only becomes that much more funnier and wiser.  

Tootsie is a perfect film!

SPECIAL GUEST REVIEW: THE ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW (1975)

by Ronnie Clements with Screen Gems

Screen Gems reflects on The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975)… Review by Ronnie (Dorian) Clements on his FB page Screen Gems … http://www.facebook.com/screengemsbyronnie


On 14 August, 1975 (50 years ago), The Rocky Horror Picture Show opened at the Rialto Theatre in London. Rocky is still the longest running movie in theatrical history and the biggest cult movie of all time! I doubt if any other film will ever “usurp” it. 

[And whatever you do, forget the 2016 made-for-TV remake. It’s a pale imitation, woefully flat and best left in the vault or preferably down the pooper!]

Screen Gems 70’s Flashback …

The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975).

A Look Back at the OG (totally re-written for the masterpiece’s 50th anniversary) …

Two of the most unforgettable Saturday afternoons of my life were spent watching live matinee performances of The Rocky Horror Show; years apart, yet equally electric. While the film adaptation, The Rocky Horror Picture Show, has rightly earned its cult status, nothing compares to the raw energy of the stage. Still, the movie captures the essence and outrageous brilliance of the original, preserving it for eternity.

As a screen adaptation of musical theatre, Rocky stands alone. There’s truly nothing else like it. The score is wildly eclectic, veering from tender ballads to glam rock anthems, and yet not a single dud among them. It’s a sonic rollercoaster that defies genre and expectation.

The plot? A delicious mash-up of horror and sci-fi tropes, with a heavy nod to Frankenstein. But what emerges is something wholly original: a campy, chaotic celebration of identity, desire and rebellion.

Written by Richard O’Brien, The Rocky Horror Show premiered at London’s Royal Court Theatre Upstairs on June 19, 1973. The original cast: Tim Curry (Frank-N-Furter), Richard O’Brien (Riff Raff), Patricia Quinn (Magenta), and Nell Campbell (Columbia), all reprise their roles in the film, bringing their eccentric brilliance to the screen.

The stage show holds the record as the longest-running theatrical production in history and it’s still performed around the world. The film, after flopping on its initial release, found new life through midnight screenings in the mid-70s. Word of mouth turned it into a phenomenon. 

Since 1975, it’s been shown continuously in cinemas — the longest theatrical run ever. Every Friday or Saturday night, somewhere in the world, fans gather in costume, props in hand, ready to shout, sing and surrender to the madness. I’ve never attended a midnight screening myself, but I’m told it’s a surreal, unforgettable experience.

The Story …

Brad (Barry Bostwick) and Janet (Susan Sarandon), two squeaky-clean newlyweds, find themselves stranded on a stormy night. Seeking help, they stumble into the gothic lair of Dr. Frank-N-Furter, a self-proclaimed “sweet transvestite from Transsexual, Transylvania”, and his bizarre entourage. What follows is a wild descent into seduction, science and spectacle as Frank unveils his latest creation: the perfect man, built for pleasure.

Does the plot make sense? Not really. But that’s beside the point. It’s pure fantasy, a glitter-drenched fever-dream, powered by a magnificent score and unapologetic theatricality.

Tim Curry was born to play Frank-N-Furter. His performance is iconic, seductive, menacing and utterly magnetic. The rest of the cast delivers with equal flair. The film’s comic book aesthetic (garish lighting, bold colors, exaggerated performances) only heightens its surreal charm.

Themes Beneath the Fishnets …

At its heart, Rocky Horror is a battle between conservatism and counterculture. And, as in life, the establishment unfortunately wins! Frank-N-Furter and Rocky are killed … but … Brad and Janet return to their “normal”, mundane lives. However, the film leaves us questioning what “normal” really means and whether conformity is truly a happy ending! 

THERE’S SOMETHING ABOUT MARY

By Marc S. Sanders

Love never dies.  Sometimes it just gets jammed in your zipper.

Ted (Ben Stiller) can’t put his finger on it.  Neither can Pat (Matt Dillon) or a couple of other obsessed, stalking paramours.  There’s Just Something About Mary.

In 1985, brace faced, insecure Ted gets the opportunity to go to prom with the prettiest girl in school, Mary (Cameron Diaz).  He’s a good guy, but disaster strikes in truly one of the most unimaginable ways and prom never works out for these kids.

Jump thirteen years later to 1998 and Ted gets the idea to hire Pat, a private investigator, to track down Mary in hopes of rekindling a new romance.  She’s in Miami, Florida now, working as a chiropractic surgeon and even more beautiful than ever.  Problem is that Pat has lied to Ted about what has come of Mary and wants to pounce on her all for himself.  Ted eventually gets up the gumption to trek from Rhode Island to Florida anyway.  Along the way complications ensue.  Let me change topics for one second and remind you to be mindful of rest stops when you are road tripping.

There’s Something About Mary is one of the all-time great comedies and my favorite of the Farrelly Brothers’ collection (Kingpin, Dumb & Dumber, Me, Myself & Irene).  I’ve described the spine of this film, but it’s the guts of endless sight gags within that uphold this picture.  Everything from a dog that gets drugged, electrified, drugged a lot more, and body casted to a handicapped friend of Mary’s who simply cannot pick up his keys without instigating terribly guilt-ridden chuckles. (I’m laughing as I write this.)  Special needs adults lend to the comedy as well.  The Farrellys are proudly nowhere near politically correct. Yet the material manages to not be horribly offensive either.  You need not worry, you will still get into heaven even if you laughed at There’s Something About Mary.  Still, that’s what comedy is.  Somebody always needs to be the victim of the stooges who lend to the mayhem.

This comedy is also perfectly cast from the three headliners all the way down to the extras.  A South Carolina jail cell setting draws big laughs at poor Ted’s demise. 

Cameron Diaz is such a sport though, always looking beautiful while willing to be the fool.  It was great to watch this with my seventeen-year-old daughter since she had no idea of that hair gel scene.  If you don’t know, don’t read about it.  Just watch and look at how well Diaz holds the moment together.  I remember SCREAMING in the movie theatre next to Miguel.

Stiller and Dillon are two dumbasses you likely never would have envisioned in a film together.  Nevertheless, they are perfect foils of stupidity against one another.  Matt Dillon is often recognized for his tough guy dramatic roles.  Yet, he puts it all on the line.  Stiller is primarily known for comedy, and this film is the first of a series where he becomes the unfortunate victim of circumstances (Along Came Polly, Meet The Parents).  I wouldn’t want anyone else in these scenarios though.  You laugh at what Ben Stiller ends up in but also feel sorry for the poor guy.  I would have no objection if Matt Dillon and Ben Stiller paired up again for another comedy, even all these years later.

Other cast members also lend their level of comedy from Chris Elliott to Lin Shaye to Sarah Silverman, Jeffrey Tambor, Markie Post and especially Keith David, who knows he belongs nowhere in this movie, but that’s exactly why he should be part of the cast.  He’s utterly hilarious.

A nice touch to the movie are the series of outtakes during the end credits while the cast lip sync to The Foundations celebratory number “Build Me Up Buttercup.”  This had to have been such a party to film and finally the audience is assured that they can laugh along in front or behind the camera as well. 

There’s Something About Mary is the movie so many of us need right now.  Turn off the news and turn on what went on between Ted and Pat and their pursuit of Mary. 

MEET THE PARENTS

By Marc S. Sanders

Am I the only one who used to get tired of feeling sorry for Ben Stiller?  The go to formulas of his earlier comedies made him the unfortunate stooge.  The best of that batch was The Farrelly Brothers’ hilarious There’s Something About Mary.  Every gag, every cast member, every storyline was straight up side splitting.  Late last year, during the hurricane chaos in Florida I got around to watching Along Came Polly.  Poor Ben had to play basketball defense against a bare chested wookie hairball of a guy and his close up of misfortune carried the advertising campaign for that movie. 

Back in the year 2000, Stiller suffered through a terrible weekend with an intimidating Robert DeNiro frowning on his every move in Meet The Parents, also known as the first of a “Fockers Trilogy.”  Yeah, Meet The Parents is funny.  You shake your head at the absurd comedy that befalls Stiller’s character, Greg Focker. Though that isn’t even his real name at birthright.  Still, I can’t recall feeling so guilty for one guy’s misfortune that he can hardly ever help to avoid.  This guy is destined to never win, to never overcome, to never live without self-consciousness.

Greg Focker is ready to propose to his loving girlfriend Pam Burns (Teri Polo). First, he has to survive a weekend at her parents’ house where the other daughter is getting married.  Not so easy because first the airline loses his luggage and poor Greg has no clothes to wear, other than what Pam’s pot head brother can provide. Baggy jeans and baggy sweatshirt on a short and svelte Ben Stiller is one sight gag of many.  The guy also has to nonchalantly dismiss his uninviting surname and the fact that Pam’s father Jack (DeNiro) is unimpressed with his occupation.  Greg is not a nurse.  Greg is “a male nurse,” who opted not to go all the way for the MD, even after taking the exams. 

Jack and his wife Dina (Blythe Danner) are less than impressed with Greg’s housewarming gift.  Jack’s precious cat Mr. Jinx is a bit of a problem because Pam can’t keep her mouth shut that Greg is not fond of cats.  Doesn’t make him a bad guy, but does her cat loving father need to know this interesting tid bit, right away?  Pam’s ex-boyfriend Kevin (a hilarious Owen Wilson against Stiller’s pitiful expressions) can do absolutely no wrong – like nothing at all.  The biggest challenge for Greg though is Jack.  Whether it’s Taxi Driver or Meet The Parents or Rocky & Bullwinkle, Robert DeNiro is the embodiment of intimidation. 

Meet The Parents is funny, and it serves no purpose to surrender the many sight gags or one liners that are offered in the film.  I laugh.  I laugh hard when I watch this movie, but I hardly ever feel good about myself.  Poor Greg never catches a break.  He’s in a no-win situation and I’m just uneasy about the whole thing.  The guy chooses not to go swimming because he has no swimsuit. Then Kevin offers one and well…yeah…I’m on Greg’s side and it’s not funny for Greg.  If I was a guest in someone’s home only to wake up late when the whole family is dressed and finishing breakfast, and I’m wearing my girlfriend’s dad’s PJs, of course I’m going to feel insecure.  For the sake of the comedy in Meet The Parents, the set ups are simply awkward situations to laugh at that one guy in the room.  Poor Greg.  Poor, poor Greg. 

In fact, the real villain of Meet The Parents is not even DeNiro’s Jack Burns who has some secrets to hide.  Actually, the unsympathizing bad guy is Teri Polo’s character.  Pam never makes it easy for her boyfriend.  Greg rightfully asks why didn’t she wake him up or why didn’t she tell him her dad is not a florist, or why this and why that, and Pam is naïve to Greg’s justified concern, never empathizing with his position.  In fact, when he tries to explain his feelings, she’s nothing but insensitively dismissive. 

Yes.  It’s a comedy, but I was begging and begging and BEGGING Greg to just leave.  Leave this place.  LEAVE PAM FOR GOOD AND GET OUT OF THIS HOUSE.  You know, like we would tell the counselors in a Friday The 13th flick?  It’s not so much the father as it is his girlfriend who quickly nosedives Greg’s comfort into an inescapable hell.  You know how people love to say Jenny is the villain of Forrest Gump?  Well, I got one better.  Pam Burns is an unthoughtful, uncaring, spoiled brat of a daddy’s girl with nary a shred of consideration for others. 

I despise you Pam Burns – daughter of Jack and Dina Burns, rotten and heartless girlfriend to Greg Focker!!!!! 

MY COUSIN VINNY

By Marc S. Sanders

The American Bar Association’s publication, The ABA Journal, ranked My Cousin Vinny #3 on its list of the “25 Greatest Legal Movies.”  Surprised?  You really shouldn’t be.  

This “fish out of water” film follows a goodfella who did not pass the bar exam until his sixth try.  Now he’s defending his cousin and another UCLA college kid in an Alabama courtroom.  It’s Vinny’s first murder trial.  So he’s gotta learn the ropes of how to dress properly for court all the way up to discrediting material witnesses and demonstrating reasonable doubt to get his clients exonerated.  It’s a great courtroom picture because within the dense slapstick comedy there are authentic lessons to learn about being a member of the Bar and having confidence in yourself.

Bill and Stan (Ralph Macchio, Mitchell Whitfield) are roadtripping through southern America, en route to UCLA, when they get pulled over and framed for the murder of a convenience store clerk.  With no money or hope of retaining a reliable public defender, the young men turn to Bill’s cousin Vinny.  

Straight out of the five boroughs of New York wearing a black leather jacket, black boots and a slick pompadour, Vinny Mancini arrives in small town Alabama.  You know something?  If I didn’t know any better I’d say he looks and acts a lot like Joe Pesci.  With him is his long time fiancée, Mona Lisa Vito (Marisa Tomei, in her very well remembered Oscar winning role). Mona Lisa Vito!  I love when there’s some thought put into a character’s name.

The future looks grim for the accused as Vinny doesn’t know where to begin.  The iron horse Judge Chamberlain Haller (Fred Gwynne) habitually holds the guy in contempt because Vinny can’t shed his New York ways either in wardrobe or proper decorum. The prosecutor played by Lane Smith really doesn’t have to try hard at all.  Though he deliberately gets all Southern showy each time he faces the jury, made up of friendly locals.  In an unexpected and tender moment, the tough guy, Vinny, admits to Lisa that he’s “a-scared.”

I never cared for My Cousin Vinny since I had seen it in theaters.  However, there’s much I appreciated on only my second viewing of this film directed by Jonathan Lynn, an actual law scholar.  Lynn is always striving for an authenticity within the courtroom.  His protagonist might not know anything about being a litigator, but the director ensures that a genuine regiment of customary courtroom behavior, procedure, and theatrics will be upheld even if this is only a silly, little comedy flick.  

Outside the courtroom, there’s primarily an updated George and Gracie situational comedy at play.  Marisa Tomei is of cinema’s great scene stealers.  Mona Lisa Vito might look like an overly familiar character, but the actress’ performance is entirely unique.  She never plays Lisa as a dumb side character to her boyfriend who will not commit to marriage.  Lisa comes off generous, always offering to assist Vinny despite his rejections.  She’s also positively smart as a whip with her extensive knowledge of automotive repairs, and she’s a quick study of Alabama law.  When she gets put on the witness stand it hardly matters what she’s saying.  Marisa Tomei owns the expertise and defiance of Lisa.  Turn the scene on mute to watch her doing some of her best work would be equally effective.

Go look at Silver Linings Playbook when Jennifer Lawrence rhythmically dictates numeric football statistics at Robert DeNiro.  Both actresses won Oscars for these respective roles.  These performances stand apart from so many other second, third and fourth billed actresses because they are written with immense intelligence.  That’s what Tomei and Lawrence normally embrace first, ahead of costume and makeup.  The confidence from these actors is uncanny.  More women need to be cast in roles like these.  

Joe Pesci is doing his reliable, familiar schtick from Goodfellas, Raging Bull and Easy Money.  He’s in a what if scenario though.  What if there’s a movie with Jersey Boy Joe Pesci, but he’s put in Alabama country with roosters crowing and trains chugging into town at five in the morning? There can even be a communication gap between the Judge and Vinny for some padded laughs.  “What is a yoot?”

I was bored with this movie the first time I saw it.  I just didn’t think the humor was funny even if I recognized the attempts.  Over thirty years later, what I appreciate is the heart that feels much more apparent.  The hero feels weak and at a loss.  Only when he is given strength and support from a wisecracking, sexually frustrated girlfriend does he get the drive to behave like a lawyer he’s licensed to become.  I like Vinny.  I like Lisa.  Therefore, now I can laugh at their unfortunate dilemmas as they work towards an end goal – getting him to do his best at becoming a courtroom lawyer and hopefully reaching a not guilty verdict. 

I gotta give a shout out to the supporting cast.  Bruce McGill plays a familiar sheriff that we’ve seen before, but so what.  It’s the way he carries himself that I’m always welcome to see him in a movie.  Same goes for Lane Smith.  These guys are sophisticated Dukes Of Hazzard.  Fred Gwynne, most famously known as Herman Munster, was always a brilliant character actor.  He has the ability to be goofy and intimidating all in the same scene.  To place his towering stature against little Joe Pesci? Who needs dialogue? Watch Fred Gwynne’s moments in My Cousin Vinny.  He could’ve been Oscar nominated, and I would not have complained.  While Ralph Macchio is doing his typical routines (same things we saw in The Karate Kid, The Outsiders and so on), it’s Mitchell Whitfield playing his buddy who really stands out.  This is a nothing role but it’s as if this guy fell out of a Woody Allen or Neil Simon picture to claim his own territory among an outstanding cast.

My Cousin Vinny is one of those comfort films to put on when the stress is becoming too much in real life.  Everyone is so likable here.  There isn’t a villain to dual against.  Instead, it’s a conflict of cultures who must work together to uncover truths within a murder trial while also learning about what any one of us is actually capable of accomplishing. 

Vinny from da Bronx is a lawya???? 

FUGGETABOUTIT!!!!!

NOVOCAINE (2025)

by Miguel E. Rodriguez

DIRECTORS: Dan Berk, Robert Olsen
CAST: Jack Quaid, Amber Midthunder, Ray Nicholson, Jacob Batalon
MY RATING: 9/10
ROTTEN TOMATOMETER: 82% Certified Fresh

PLOT: When the girl of his dreams is kidnapped, a man incapable of feeling physical pain turns his rare condition into an unexpected advantage in the fight to rescue her.


Just when I thought the John Wick franchise had shown me everything there was to see in terms of modern action films, along comes Novocaine.  If there are philosophical rumblings at the heart of the screenplay, I didn’t see them.  There is a brief scene where a character says probably the deepest line in the film, something along the lines of, “We all have something to hide.  Maybe we’re just looking for someone to show it to.”  Apart from that, though, this movie is a machine designed for one thing: thrill you and make you laugh and cringe all at the same time.  That’s three things, but you get the point.

Because this machine has only one purpose, any criticisms accusing it of not doing something it wasn’t designed for are moot.  You don’t eat a cheeseburger and then complain it didn’t taste like chateaubriand.  I got what the movie’s goals were after 10-15 minutes – or, actually, even after just watching the red-band trailers.  I went in with eyes wide open, and I was not disappointed.  My only real complaint is that those same trailers gave away a little too much of the very best fight scenes in the film, ruining two of the best gags (the deep fryer and the ball-and-chain).  But I forgive the trailer editors because the rest of the movie was so freaking entertaining.

Nathan Caine (Jack Quaid, whose father’s famous smile will haunt his face for the rest of his life) is an assistant bank manager living with a very real genetic disorder called Congenital Insensitivity to Pain, or CIP.  He literally cannot feel pain, to the degree that he can’t even chew solid food because he could theoretically chew off bits of his tongue and not realize it.  His obligatory meet-cute with the love interest, Sherry (Amber Midthunder), involves him spilling scalding hot coffee on his hands, but of course he doesn’t feel a thing.  One thing leads to another, and they spend the night together.  Apparently, Nate can’t feel pain, but pleasure is another story.  (I thought that scene might include a homage to Marilyn Monroe and Tony Curtis’s love scene in Some Like It Hot [1959], but alas.)

Next day, as is revealed in the trailers, three robbers dressed as Santa Claus rob his bank, kill his boss, and take Sherry hostage.  On impulse, he takes off after them in a stolen police car, which of course leads authorities to believe he’s in on the case.  This also leads to the first of several jaw-dropping fight scenes, not because they’re insanely choreographed like a Jackie Chan movie, but because the physical violence shown on screen goes beyond anything I can remember seeing before in a fight scene.  Maybe Oldboy (2003) comes close.

Fair warning: if you are squeamish, this movie is simply not for you.  Just in the first fight scene alone, we see Nate get kicked, punched, seared by a scalding hot frying pan, and burned horrifically, which results in him wearing a bandage (and a disturbingly realistic prosthetic) on his hand for the rest of the movie.  The comedy comes from equal parts watching as Nate gets injured and simply powers through it, and from cringing and cursing and covering your face as those injuries occur.

I won’t give anything else away.  The movie does include an intriguing story development that I did not see coming.  My fellow Cinemaniac, Anthony, also made an interesting observation.  It was unusual to see a clearly comic film featuring so many actual deaths: multiple cops murdered after the bank robbery, a death inside the bank itself, and the body count keeps adding up as Nate gets closer and closer to rescuing Sherry.  Nate himself contributes (minimally) to the body count, but it’s mostly the bad guys killing anyone who gets in their way.  Is it possibly to balance almost slapstick physical comedy with so many, almost gratuitous deaths?

For myself, I didn’t think so.  I look at a movie like Tarantino’s Kill Bill: Vol. 1 (2003), with umpteen deaths, but it’s a movie that’s clearly having fun with the kung-fu genre, which requires lots of death.  Novocaine felt to me like a riff on the John Wick movies.  John Wick mows through LEGIONS of bad guys, getting punched and shot and sometimes falling from four-story buildings onto vans and just getting up, brushing himself off, and moving to the next fight scene.  Nathan Caine does the same thing, just not with legions of bad guys, but you’re constantly aware that he could be killed at any minute.  That kept the stakes raised, so I didn’t feel like I was watching a video game come to life.

Novocaine might be the most fun I’ve had at the movies in 2025 so far.  I laughed a lot, I CRINGED a lot (usually while I was laughing), and uttered more curse words at the screen than I have in a long time (usually “JEEEsus!” or “Oh SHIT”).  The story doesn’t quite reinvent the wheel, but the execution is superb.  Just to restate my warning from earlier: if you don’t like graphic onscreen violence, stay away.  Everyone else, enjoy!

M*A*S*H

By Marc S. Sanders

Forgive me.  I’m not sure my position on Robert Altman’s film will be fair.  All my life, I think I deliberately eluded seeing the motion picture of M*A*S*H as I have been so accustomed to the classic television show that ran for eleven seasons on CBS.  As I expected the two properties couldn’t be further apart from one another.

Altman’s movie still carries a zippy kind of perspective to the horrors of war.  With their hands and surgical scrubs in the thick of gory, blood red surgery, the characters are so much more apathetic to the turnaround of wounded that arrive at the 4077th American mobile army hospital, located three miles from the explosive front lines of the bloody Korean War.  The well-known characters were first given live action roles here following the published novel by Richard Hooker.  

Most surprising is near the end of the film when two doctors realize they are being sent home. One surgeon who is in the midst of operating on a head injury actually instructs a colleague to take over.  This guy has his hands covered in brains and blood and chooses not to finish saving his patient’s life.  Alan Alda of the television show, as a writer, director or while portraying Hawkeye Pierce, would never respond in such a manner. Yet, this is the approach that Robert Altman chose to follow, having infamously always despised the TV series that eclipsed his film in popularity.

Altman’s movie is a slap in the face to the famed oxymoron called “military intelligence.” In 1970, we say bravo for finally saying something frank and honest while a Vietnam War has carried on far too long for not necessarily any of the right reasons.  It’s not so simple to declare war is hell.  It’s much more complicated and horrifying than that.

The film’s opening bylines are quotes by celebrated military leaders of the time, like MacArthur and Eisenhower.  However, these championed commanders are lampooned as we watch shlubby Hawkeye Pierce (Donald Sutherland) arriving in Korea.  He heads directly towards a General’s jeep and steals it, plain as day.  From there on, M*A*S*H operates like a precursor to Animal House with a series of hijinks and a lack of care for military leadership or the U.S.’s purpose in this conflict.  

About the only time, there is any care or forthright anger from anyone is when the jerky Major Frank Burns (Robert Duvall) chastises an underling.  Trapper (Elliot Gould) and Hawkeye punch his lights out and the schmuck ends up in a straightjacket.  Nonetheless, these guys could care less about criticizing and exposing the truth about the institution they have been drafted to serve.  Their purpose is not to make an ironic statement like a Doonesbury comic strip.  They just punch the commanding officer in the face and drink.  The TV show was at its strongest when it relied on the wit and delivery.  Trapper and Hawkeye never use irony or intelligence to belittle a buffoon.  They punch, or they embarrass an authority who’s taking a shower. Regretfully, it’s the dialogue that’s lacking. Robert Altman encouraged much improv on the set and overlayered conversations within his scenes. He found nothing organized or neat and pretty about war, including daily functioning. Chaos did not only reign on a battlefield.

The pace of M*A*S*H moves episodically, and it is likely what led to the idea of a half hour TV show that dominated the airwaves for the better part of eleven years.  A character called Painless contemplates suicide and so a Last Supper reenactment before he sends himself off is inserted. It’s a funny caption from these halfwits, but a storyline focused on deliberately ending a life does not connect with me in a humorous way here. Burt Reynolds, the dark comedy Heathers, and even more recently Tom Hanks toed the line of humor to be found in death by suicide. I think it worked better in those examples. With the somber, well known theme song of “Suicide Is Painless” that is forever linked with M*A*S*H, I just could not muster the laughs for this bit.

There’s also time to build comedy against another regular army brat like Major “Hot Lips” Houlihan (Sally Kellerman, also the best and most memorable of the cast).  The iterations of shower hijinks has been duplicated so often since the release of this picture. Therefore, this gag is dried up. It does not hold its impact fifty years later after dozens Porky’s movies. As well, there’s golfing off the helicopter pad, heavy drinking and a long, drawn-out final act of an overstayed football competition which leads to one of the first times the F-word was used in a mainstream American film.  

In 1970, Robert Altman delivered a bold, risky and daring film to counteract against a losing Vietnam War and the heroism of John Wayne’s bravado in war pictures.  The chutzpah to lash out against American politics likely felt relatable to many who saw different and more realistic images when they understood their young sons and daughters were not coming home and were thus forever changed.  Richard Hooker’s properties and stories lent an understanding to the animosity of those who forced the war on America’s children and loved ones.  War has never been consistent with the short film propaganda asking you to buy war bonds. M*A*S*H negated the heroism of Hollywood sensationalism found in machine gun fare and overtaking a hill while draped in green fatigues with shiny bronze ammunition hanging off their shoulders. These soldiers of war deserve our country’s utmost respect, but they did so much more than what John Wayne demonstrated. They offered up parts of themselves they would never get back.

M*A*S*H deliberately left out the heroes.  However, seeing the film for the first time, over fifty years later, I wish that at least we could follow the escapades of doctors who also directed a bed side manner to the pawns who were dying while upholding their leaders’ cause.  The doctors of Robert Altman’s interpretation hardly emulate a reason to care. 

The film interpretation of M*A*S*H is outdated of its time of release and the period in which it takes place.  I like to think we live more humanely than not just how our military leaders functioned.  I wished these physicians used their scalpels with a much less obtuse absence of empathy.  Hate the puppet masters, yes. Yet would it kill these guys to still care about the puppets? 

THE MAGIC FLUTE (Sweden, 1975)

by Miguel E. Rodriguez

DIRECTOR: Ingmar Bergman
CAST: Josef Köstlinger, Irma Urrila, Håkan Hagegård, Birgit Nordin
MY RATING: 8/10
ROTTEN TOMATOMETER: 91% Fresh

PLOT: Valiant prince Tamino and his zestful sidekick Papageno are recruited by the Queen of the Night to save her daughter from the clutches of evil.


Here lies the noble, magical illusion of the theater.  Nothing is; everything represents. – Ingmar Bergman

Ingmar Bergman’s whimsical staging of Mozart’s opera The Magic Flute is a movie made by a theater fan, for theater fans…and to a certain degree, it’s about theater fans.  I use the word “staging” instead of “film of” because, throughout the movie, Bergman never once lets us forget that we’re watching a staged production.  The opera’s overture plays over shots of the audience members, and at intermission we watch actors passing the time by playing chess or smoking where they shouldn’t be.  Once or twice, we see the hands of the stage crew as they move from one “cue card” to the next.  Fishing wire is clearly visible when objects “float.”  But the very artificiality of the production is what makes it so charming.  It celebrates artifice and scorns reality.  It wouldn’t surprise me if this were one of the favorite films of Tim Burton or Terry Gilliam.

Since my only previous knowledge of the story of The Magic Flute comes from a precious few scenes in the film Amadeus (1984), here’s a brief summary for anyone else who knows as much about opera as I do.  The brave, handsome prince Tamino and his enthusiastic sidekick Papageno are recruited by the Queen of the Night to rescue her beautiful daughter, Pamina, from the clutches of the evil Sarastro.  Before the opera is over, there will be revelations, separations, reunions, laughter, tears, semi-divine intervention, and even an operatic strip-tease.  There are monsters, woodland creatures, villains, three angelic young boys in a hot air balloon, and, of course, a magic flute.  And it’s all portrayed as it might be seen if we were watching it on a real stage in a real theater, with some obvious cinematic licenses taken with time and space.

I’m gonna be brutally honest: having never seen an opera, I had moderate-to-low expectations of how much I would enjoy it, even if the music is by my second-favorite classical composer of all time.  (Beethoven is the king, and that is that.)  But Bergman’s film sidestepped my expectations by not trying to present anything in a realistic way, or by simply staging a live production and just filming it from multiple cameras.  By keeping everything clearly artificial, clearly staged, and occasionally using clever movie tricks, The Magic Flute held my attention, making me curious about what other tricks Bergman might have up his sleeve.

For example, he’ll start a scene with a wide shot, showing the entire stage with the flats and fake backdrops, then cut to a medium shot, making us think we’re in the space we just were, then panning over to reveal a completely separate set that was invisible before.  But because it’s been established that we’re in the realm of theater, this kind of spatial paradox isn’t jarring, it’s almost expected.  You can get away with certain things in theater, especially opera, especially in a fantasy, that would never fly in a regular movie.  In The Magic Flute, a person’s face can be completely made over with a simple edit.  A picture in a locket can come to life.  A journey through a fantastic hellscape can be suggested by clever editing and careful camera placement.

But what if you simply don’t like opera?  Is The Magic Flute enough to convert you?  I mean…maybe?  If you’re a fan of the films of Terry Gilliam, particularly Brazil (1985) and The Adventures of Baron Munchausen (1988), then this movie is going to be right up your alley.  They share the same visual strategies and production design sensibilities.  Even if you believe you don’t like opera, The Magic Flute could still win you over for at least this one movie, simply because it’s such fun to look at.

Looking back over what I’ve written so far, I don’t believe I’ve accurately conveyed how the deliberate “fakeness” of the film enhances its effectiveness.  Live theater has the ability to get audiences to suspend their disbelief in a way that film cannot always achieve.  I’ve seen community theater productions where, for example, the walls of a café are supposed to “fly” off the stage revealing a night sky, and the effect was accomplished by simple lighting tricks.  A clubhouse foyer can be magically transformed into a golf course with a green carpet and some more selective lighting.  In live theater, the audience is constantly aware that it’s fake, but when they’re in the grip of a good story, their mind fills in the blanks.  That’s the effect Bergman is going for in The Magic Flute, and it works.

So, in the end, what you have here is a love letter to the stage, to opera, to Mozart, to fantasy.  Throughout the film, Bergman will cut to the face of young girl, an audience member, who watches with rapt attention and an almost Mona Lisa-esque smile.  Not only is he reminding us, the viewer, that this is a staged production, but maybe he’s also sending a reminder to filmmakers to never forget that, for a movie or play or opera to work, you have to remember who you’re making it for: the paying audience.  Speaking as an occasional audience member myself, I know that, when I buy a ticket, I want to be taken out of myself.  I want to believe that a man can fly, or that a wooden puppet can come to life, or that a valiant prince can overcome three tasks to win the heart of his beloved.  The Magic Flute is a tribute to the magic-makers and the storytellers, to the genius of Mozart, and to the people out there in the dark who make it all possible.

IT HAPPENED ONE NIGHT

By Marc S. Sanders

If you want to stay on top of how the world of American cinema evolved over the last hundred years, within all its categories, you must find time to watch the one film that paved the way for the romantic comedy, as well as the travel comedy.  Frank Capra’s Oscar winning picture, It Happened One Night, is the first of three films to win Oscars for every major category: Best Picture, Director, Screenplay, Actor and Actress. Nearly a hundred years later, the accolades still feel worthy.

Claudette Colbert is wealthy heiress Ellie Andrews who dives off and swims away from the captivity of her father’s yacht and buses from Miami to New York to reunite with her new husband, King Westly (Jameson Thomas).  Her father, Alexander Andrews (Walter Connolly), never approved of this marriage and insists his spoiled daughter get it annulled once she is found.  A ten-thousand-dollar reward is up for grabs to the person who finds her.

Along the way, a rogue reporter, Peter Warne (Clark Gable) ends up next to this young lady on the bus.  Complications ensue where their money gets lost, bags are stolen, buses are missed, and buses get stuck.  Then this trip becomes a walking experience.  Ellie has agreed to stay by Peter’s side though.  He promises to get her to New York as long as he gets to write about her story firsthand amid the constant headlines that recount Alexander’s desperation to get his daughter back.

It’d be easy enough if only Peter and Ellie were not falling for one another.

Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?  Any Nora Ephron script has the elements of It Happened One Night.  Screwball comedies with Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn seemed to follow a similar blueprint.  To the best of my knowledge, Frank Capra’s film was first though.  

A famous scene has Colbert and Gable on the side of the road trying to hitch a ride.  Colbert’s bare leg does the trick that Gable’s outstretched thumb could not.  Eventually, this scene for the ages evolved into Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal daring to fake an orgasm effectively while dining at Katz’s Delicatessen.

When Harry Met Sally… is what easily comes to mind while watching It Happened One Night.  Peter will tease this spoiled rich girl. Yet, he will also be gentlemanly enough to put up a blanket to divide a cabin room he shares with Ellie, allowing for some privacy.  In the middle of the night though, the two will stay up chatting from either side of their blanket wall, as both acknowledge sad voids within their personal lives.  It’s parallel to how Harry and Sally would chat on the phone from their respective apartment bedrooms while discussing their newly evolving friendship with Casablanca on TV.  

Ellie and Peter become relaxed as their sojourn continues.  They could be left in the middle of nowhere with no money or food, but Gable and Colbert’s chemistry show an easy comfort to each other.  That is what’s expected of any troubled travel film.  At first Ellie does not want to share a rear bench on the bus with Peter.  She’s married to King and the purpose of this runaway trip is to be back in her new husband’s arms.  Plus, this odd fellow on the bus feels unseemly.  His charm is overbearing to the socialite’s proper petiteness.  He’ll resort to munching on a carrot he finds in a patch. She can’t find the appetite for it. Time together breaks down barriers though, just as movies in later decades eventually accomplished with films like Midnight Run and Planes, Trains & Automobiles.  This kind of formula, with ongoing new settings and circumstances, is almost guaranteed to end in positivity once the mutual antagonism is behind the pair.  

For 1934, It Happened One Night was bold in its content, ahead of an eventual ratings system intent on upholding an acceptable level of conservatism.  Colbert’s leg is the most unforgettable.  Later, Peter feels it necessary to spank Ellie.  Then there is the fact that the two share a room together.  Comedic circumstances and shock lend to the humor of this scenario.  Plus, there’s Claudette Colbert undressing down to her slip while a bare-chested Clark Gable is only one side of a blanket away from her.  

Would It Happened One Night endure an endless admiration if moments like these were contained? I doubt it.  Frank Capra’s film hinges on sexual appeal that feels naughty and rebellious.  

The dialogue remains witty.  Clark Gable’s introduction in the film while on the phone with his editor is a precursor to what an outlandish Bill Murray might have done with the script. The material is sometimes quite brash, and the ending, which has been duplicated hundreds of times since, is a perfect example of romantic escapism.  

Over ninety years have passed but unexpected romance is what remains treasured.  When two people with nothing in common begin an unwelcome journey together, it’s still easy to hope they find a way to like each other.  They have to like one another first before they can even concern themselves with falling in love.  The progress of this east coast bus ride allows for the stages to develop naturally.  Frank Capra, Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert were the first to give it a shot and it works brilliantly and beautifully.

ANORA

By Marc S. Sanders

Anora, or Ani as she prefers to be called, had to have been a character that writer/director Sean Baker always intended on loving.  Not in an intimate way though.  Sean Baker had to deeply care about this twenty-three-year-old girl who has no connections or family or solid friendships or kinships.  Baker wrote about Anora, wanting her to be appreciated by someone who would finally embrace her. 

Anora—sorry…Ani…has a good heart.  She may be an exotic dancer at a New York City strip club, but she is someone who has every right to be respected and valued. If you choose to watch the film you’ll know why, as a pertinent prop referenced earlier in the picture suddenly resurfaces when you least expect it.  A minute or two later the closing credits appear amid the sound of flapping windshield wipers and there is no music to cue your emotional response.  You likely will have spent the last two and a half hours laughing loudly, dropping your jaw, and gasping in shock at what unfolds for Ani. In the end though, you’ll realize that you want the best for her, like her creator did when he originally drafted this script and shot the film about Ani’s episodic escapades.

Sean Baker’s film is eye opening right from the start.  Club music blares within the HQ, the name of Ani’s strip joint where she collects an exorbitant amount of dollar bills while she strategically flirts with middle-aged men and frat boys looking for an evening of debauchery.  She has a talent for one on one charm with any customer, as she repeatedly bares her chest and reveals her thong, but she also delivers a very satisfying service.  A young man named Ivan, sometimes it’s Vanya (Mark Eydelshteyn), specifically requests a girl who speaks Russian to cater to his needs.  Ani is the only one who can comply.  Ani and Ivan get to talking, mostly in Russian but limited English too.  She gets invited to his private, deco mansion, which is really owned by his Russian aristocratic parents, and a slap happy relationship of sex and more sex, and money, and drugs and drinking and partying and New Year’s Eve partying and money, and clothes and expensive coats, and travels to Las Vegas ensue.  (Yes! I know that was a run on sentence.  My elaborate text does not even come close to what these twenty-somethings indulge in though.  It must be seen to be believed.)

Anyway, since they’re in Vegas, why not get married?  Vows are taken, the bride is kissed and Ani is emptying her locker at HQ for a promising future of being a spoiled, but loved, aristocratic wife.

In the few times that Ivan calms down, he is only engrossed in his online video games while Anora lies on his chest with an expression of wanting more than to come in second to Call Of Duty. Baker focuses on Ivan’s childish habit a few times.  So be sure to observe how Ani sadly looks upon an inattentive Ivan.

A problem occurs though that neither character could ever expect.  The tabloids have reported that Vanya, this spoiled brat son of a Russian oligarch, has up and married a prostitute. Now the family image is at risk of being shamed.  Mom and dad are on their way back to the states and have summoned Toros (Karren Karagulian), an Armenian Catholic priest and the son’s Godfather, to round up Vanya and the so-called whore to get the marriage annulled immediately.  Not divorced!  Divorce does not happen within the legacy of this family.  An annulment is what is needed. 

Toros rounds up Igor and Nick (Yura Borisov, Paul Weissman) to get over to the house right away, get the marriage license and bring the kids in for the quick annulment at the courthouse.  If only it were that simple.

Watching Anora allowed me to reminisce about other films that catered to outrageous debauchery and led to a domino effect of problems.  Doug Liman’s Go for example, or True Romance written by Quentin Tarantino, or even a super ridiculous comedy known as Very Bad Things with Christian Slater and Cameron Diaz.  The first two examples are very good films because the dialogue is sharp with eclectic casts who elevated simplistic material.  Let’s not talk about the third one, but I will say it is delicious junk food.  With Anora though, just when you think you know where this story should be going it doesn’t.  You think it will turn right, but then it makes a sharp left and Sean Baker knows he just needs to keep the fighting and the screaming and the cursing at an organic natural level.  What do you do when the wards you are put in charge of will not cooperate?  What if one of them goes missing and simply won’t answer his cell phone?

Well, on a cold winter night you may get a broken nose, car sick, and your car might get towed.   Anora is not about big stunts or gratuitous violence.  It’s not mobster movie material either.  Anora works naturally for people in desperate situations, from a handful of different perspectives.

Oh yeah.  Anora—sorry Ani, is played by Mikey Madison and she is bound for marquee attraction over the next twenty or thirty years.  This performance is so concentrated in moments of natural glee, anger, and maybe despair and sadness.  You applaud her character’s strength.  Ani talks like an updated version of Judy Holliday from Born Yesterday, but she’s no dummy and she never succumbs to intimidation.  I’ll confess it right here.  If two hulking Armenian thugs approach me, I’ll do whatever they want me to do. Ani gets all my props though.  She will never settle.  She’s a married woman and no one will deny her of her rights.

Mikey Madison has such wonderous chemistry with Sean Baker’s camera.  There must be over a hundred and fifty close-ups on this young actor and each one is unique.  I was sad for Anora when Ivan would not give her attention.  I was cheerful when the two were overindulging in carefree sex and sin city fun.  I was on Anora’s side when she was restrained. I was admirable of her giving a good fight to the giants that enter her space.  I was exhausted with her as she was forced to sit in Toros’ car while brainstorming where her husband could be.  I was supportive when she makes appeals with the family to offer a good first impression.  She hates her name, but she introduces herself as Anora to Vanya’s steely mother. Ani is willing to make all of this work. Finally, I was angry—very angry–alongside of her whenever she was unfairly treated like garbage. 

Amid all of the chaos that ensues, Sean Baker works like the eyes of the film’s audience. We keep guard over Ani’s condition and state of mind as she’s coerced into looking all over Brooklyn and Coney Island for her new husband that the Armenians need to find before the boy’s parents arrive by noon the next day. 

None of the dialogue is crafty like Quentin Tarantino’s or Neil Simon’s.  I could not quote a single line.  The yelling and conversations and overtalking and interruptions are natural and raw.  Sometimes, the exchanges feel pointless until you arrive at another scene that demonstrates with brilliant insight why certain throwaway moments are preserved in the final print of the film.  It makes complete sense that Sean Baker did not just write, produce and direct this film.  He edited it as well. 

The whole way through the picture I kept wondering how this story would end.  I spelled out variations of doom for any one of the characters.  I considered gratuitous violence or swashbuckling adventure and daring escapes.  Man o’ man, have I become cliché.  Because just as you arrive at the picture’s conclusion, a meaningful prop puts the period at the end of the story and the last audible expression before the picture goes to black comes from Anora. You now realize that this girl, who is as self-reliant as many exotic dancers must be, has feelings too.  As defiant as Anora can be, she can also get pricked and bleed and the big laughs you responded to for most of the film are distant memories. Anora can feel pain like any of us.

When I drove home, I was hurting.  I was hurting for Anora, and my one wish is that I hope Anora will be okay.

Roger Ebert once gave a seminar that lasted for eleven hours as he commented on practically every shot and piece of dialogue in Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction.  My long shot wish is that on a subsequent viewing of Anora, I can deliver a similar kind of observational lecture to others who had already seen the film too.  I believe I could reveal sincerity and perception related to every close up, every chaos-stricken scene of panic or decadence, and especially when that one prop reappears. I’d likely spend a half hour simply discussing the value that this prop carries and what it means to Sean Baker’s film, and especially to Ani.

As messy and gritty as Anora may appear, it is also one of the most adoring and perceptive films to be released in a long time. 

Anora must be in my top five favorite films of 2024.  It might just be my favorite.  There are a few other candidates, but I left feeling so satisfied with Mikey Madison’s performance and Sean Baker’s sloppy, yet astute, little film. 

This is superb filmmaking.