Category: Marc’s Reviews

THE HUSTLER

By Marc S. Sanders

To get inside the turmoil that Fast Eddie Felson feels requires witnessing his highs and lows, all within a forty-hour time span, which equates to about thirty minutes in movie time.  Fast Eddie is The Hustler, and he was famously portrayed by Paul Newman, arguably his breakthrough role as a top billing super star.

Felson is a cocky, hard drinking pool player.  He’s got talent, but no matter how much he wins he’s always the loser because he has no discipline.  Eddie and his partner Charlie (Myron McCormick) travel from town to town, entering pool halls and setting up a bait and catch for some quick cash.  Charlie keeps his cool and treats the act like a profession.  Eddie has no subtlety.  Because he’s so how high on his expertise and what it earns him, he now only has his eye on dethroning the best in the country.  Eddie wants to take on Minnesota Fats (Jackie Gleason, in his only Oscar nominated role).

Fats sure looks intimidating.  Gleason handled his extra weight beautifully throughout his whole career, whether it be with his outrageous Ralph Kramden comedy, or when he was just being stand up Gleason for a live audience.  As well, his large frame appears kingly when he enters the pool hall.  He’s dressed to the nines with his hat, overcoat, silk tie, cuffs and studs, a cigarette in his hand, and the red carnation confidently tucked in his lapel.  The movie is in black and white, but that little flower had to be red if adorned by Minnesota Fats.  No question about it.

Newman versus Gleason in the first section of Robert Rosen’s drama is stunning to witness.  Like the actors who portray these characters, the antagonist was already a legend, while the up and comer was on the brink of higher class.  Both are the best of the best at pool, but as this scene progresses, with the regulars at Ames Pool Hall watching with their burning cigarettes and stained whiskey glasses in hand, the competition becomes a fierce and eerily quiet test of endurance.  Fast Eddie can keep on winning and winning, round after round, hour after hour, taking thousands of dollars out of Fats’ pockets, but if the fat man doesn’t surrender, has anyone really won or lost?

The Hustler isn’t so much about pool playing as it is about being a hustler or a con man who has no way to be genuine with himself or others in his life.  After the showdown between the two has finally concluded, Eddie gets acquainted with a woman who frequents the nearby bus depot.  Her name is Sarah (Piper Laurie), another hard drinker and someone who is not looking for love or companionship but will get trapped in Eddie’s charm.  What’s at play though is if their relationship, based initially on sex and booze, has anything more substantial to uphold their quick connection.  That is about to get tested by another member of this cast.

Bert Gordon (George C Scott) is the high stakes investor ready to front Eddie with a lot of money to go on the road and clean up on other wealthy players at the table.  Bert recognized a thoroughbred when Eddie went against Fats.  Now he wants to use him, but will Sarah serve a purpose or become a distraction in Bert’s plans for himself first, and Eddie second?

There’s a lot to think about when summing up The Hustler.  It’s not a typical sports film with the standard training montages.  The protagonist doesn’t necessarily get a beat down, only to triumph by the end.  Rosen’s film goes deeper than the pool playing that rests on the felt table surfaces.  Rosen co-wrote this script based on a novel by Walter Tevis, about a man overcoming the demons pecking at his attributes and skills.  When he’s not the trickster, he must ensure that he’s not getting tricked.

I was first introduced to Fast Eddie Felson with Martin Scorsese’s follow up picture called The Color Of Money, released twenty-five years after this film.  I like the coolness and rhythm of that film, but it’s mostly an exercise in Tom Cruise machismo.  It was only later that I saw The Hustler per my dad’s advice.  I didn’t care for it the first time I saw it.  Once the first act was over between Newman and Gleason, I found the picture to be slow moving and devoid of much energy.  I could not relate to the long sequence of Eddie getting involved with Sarah.  Unlike Scorsese’s film, Rosen does not rely on much music and quick edits to keep you alert.  It felt more like a movie drowning in the characters’ own drunken stupors.

Now that I have seen the film for a second time though, many years later, I can’t help but recognize the themes that carry over to The Color Of Money.  The Hustler works better than its sequel because it functions as a character study in maturity and endurance.  The Color Of Money sets itself up that way for the Cruise character. Yet, I’m not sure it reaches a conclusion to any of the arcs or transitions for either an older Eddie Felson or for the hot shot 1980s kid, Vincent, the Tom Cruise character that Eddie mentors.

The Hustler has triumphs, but it has some shocking heartache for several characters as well.  Eddie has much to overcome internally as well as physically throughout the course of its narrative.  This fictional story had to be captured within this certain section of time (six months to a year, I think) to show how these appealing, yet cursed, individuals forever change one another.  After the film has closed, Rosen brings up the closing credits in the quiet pool hall allowing his characters to pack themselves up and walk out of frame.  There is something open ended to when the film chooses to stop. The viewer may think for a while after it’s over.  Rosen allows the viewer to take his last gulp of whiskey or bourbon and put out his cigarette and throw on his overcoat before stepping out into the cold late hours on the wet sidewalk below.

There are many impressive pool shots on display, thanks especially to the professional Willie Mosconi.  Shots are also done beautifully by Newman and Gleason.  Absolutely amazing to watch what they accomplish with a cue stick.  However, you don’t watch The Hustler for just trick billiard shots.  Rather you look at this intense drama to see a man struggling to be a winner or remain a loser.  What you realize very early on is that the outcome is never measured by how much money is wagered or what lines a man’s pockets.  Instead, The Hustler is assessed by what these people choose to do next.  Play or not play.  Bet or not bet.  Hustled or not get hustled.

KELLY’S HEROES

By Marc S. Sanders

There’s gold in them thar Nazi castle.  Hence the plot is set in motion for a World War II romp called Kelly’s Heroes.  It’s easy to get acclimated to the lightheartedness of this comedic war picture from director Brian G Hutton (Where Eagles Dare). 

The movie opens during a dark and rainy evening within a German occupied France. The on-screen credits pop up revealing an all-star cast of tough guy actors who are also quite funny.  Clint Eastwood is the title character who sits behind the wheel of a jeep. When the Nazis take notice, he hits the gas, makes a sharp left through the muddy road, and zooms away while avoiding shell fragments coming down on him. The film’s catchy theme song marches in – “Burning Bridges” performed by the Mike Curb Congregation.  The chorus of singers speak as a soldier who does not even care about authority or the rules of war.  The lyrics are rather simple to understand, and you want to just join in on the revolutionary merriment.  The song enters the film again and again over the next two and a half hours, reminding you to just enjoy the ride against this tragic capsule of time from the first half of twentieth century history.  Hawkeye Pierce couldn’t have said it better.

In his capture, Kelly has brought back a Nazi commandant and when he sees a fourteen-karat gold bar in the German’s possession, it’s easy to surmise that there must be more where this came from.  Turns out there is a stash worth roughly sixteen million dollars crated in a bank vault in the center of a stopover town, located across enemy lines in war torn France.  Kelly and his squad, led by Big Joe (Telly Savalas), are under heavy fire and forced to retreat for safety, but that isn’t going to stop him from making a snatch and grab.

Joe has been given orders to get the unit to safety and allow them a three-day reprieve of R & R.  However, he’s just as enticed as Kelly and gradually a small team of men assemble to pull off the heist.  First, they’ll need tanks to fight off the nearly indestructible Nazi Panzer machines they expect to encounter.  Fortunately, Crapgame (a scene stealing Don Rickles) and Kelly come across the hippie loving Oddball (another scene stealer – Donald Sutherland) who can supply the tanks they need and fend off what stands in the unit’s way.  What’s also important is Oddball find a bridge for the squad to cross before the allies destroy it.  That’s not so easy.  Sutherland is somewhat of a spaz; maybe an ancestor of Cosmo Kramer.

Meanwhile, a blood and guts two-star General Colt (Carroll O’Connor) is screaming for results from his subordinates.  When he intercepts the guys’ communications, he can’t help but be impressed with their progress and strategies of attack.  He’s ready to go into the field with a handful of medals for every American soldier that’s giving a damn. 

The looniness of Kelly’s Heroes is hilarious. Eastwood carries his signature quietness about him.  So, he’s the straight man leaving the loudmouth material for Savalas, Rickles, and a bevy of supporting actors.  Plus, there’s O’Connor in his own side story.  Sutherland is another kind of comedy – the free spirit who appears to have taken one too many shells to the noggin. 

It’s not a slapstick kind of movie.  It operates like the doctors from M*A*S*H.  These draftees have no loyalty to a cause.  They look out for each other.  They know how to survive the battles and they know that some will not make it.  Brian Hutton does not forget the frightening impact of war.  A memorable scene occurs when the unit realizes they are dead center in a mine field, offering up the life and death factor blended in both the comedy and drama that comes with a heroic war picture. 

There are some inconsistencies to Kelly’s Heroes.  Often, it feels like some scenes that would connect certain dots must have been edited out of the final print.  As the men come close to the to the bank where the gold is stashed, two of the soldiers are already in the overlooking bird’s nest tower giving a low down of the area to Kelly and Big Joe.  Yet, how did those guys ever get up there?  It’s not a terrible violation.  There are sequences like this that make the movie feel a little uneven. Clint Eastwood even went on record expressing his disappointment with the film as there were excised moments that drew more out of Rickles and Sutherland’s characters, and a few of the other supporting characters played by Gavin MacLeod (The Love Boat, The Mary Tyler Moore Show), Stuart Margolin (a very underrated character actor who had memorable episodes on the M*A*S*H tv series) and a young Harry Dean Stanton (here credited only as Dean Stanton). 

This film was shot in Yugoslavia simply because the country still had possession of many tanks and vehicles from the story’s time period.  The art design and battlegrounds are very impressive.  Before CGI, Brian G Hutton and his team were reenacting a lot of these loud, bombastic battle scenes complete with big fireballs of explosions along with the aftermath wreckage left behind of rubble and blasted out walls and craters.  Hutton positions his cameras either on top or right behind the cannons and guns mounted on the tanks.  So, you are actually getting a first person view of these massive war machines driving across the plains while shooting off their firepower.  The filmmakers did not hold back on making World War II look authentic in its battle wear.  I’ll be bold enough to say the settings are comparable to what Spielberg accomplished with Saving Private Ryan, and what Eastwood depicted in Letters From Iwo Jima.  The lens is just not as serious as those films.

The cast is a magnificent fraternity of brazenly funny tough guys, in the same vain as The Dirty Dozen, though much more lighthearted.  They’re a motley sort who all stand out among their similar appearances in green army fatigues and netted helmets. 

Kelly’s Heroes is a lighthearted comedic adventure where the heist is what you come to see against a historical backdrop when nothing was ever sensationalized fun.  History offers up a cruel world of pain and suffering, but who says we can’t enjoy ourselves through all the blood, guts and misery as our heroes ride off into a ravishing orange sunset?

Go for the gold and catch up with Kelly’s Heroes.

MAX DUGAN RETURNS

By Marc S. Sanders

Max Dugan Returns is one of those delightful films where the smile never leaves your face.  It’s a cozy, rainy Saturday afternoon with your favorite pillow and throw blanket.  The characters are whimsical, and they simply feel like good, good friends you would love to have in your life.

Nora McPhee (Marsha Mason) is an overworked, underpaid high school English teacher who is drowning in debt with a broken refrigerator and a car that is as ugly as it sounds on the road.  Her fifteen-year-old son Michael (Matthew Broderick, in a sensational on-screen debut performance) is a good kid, but she’s worried he’s getting too involved with the drug dealers that roam his school.

After her jalopy of a car gets stolen, the only positive that comes upon her is in the form of Donald Sutherland as a cop named Brian.  After he lends her his motorcycle to get around, there’s an immediate attraction, but it could not happen at a worse time.

Nora’s father, Max Dugan (Jason Robards), who abandoned her at age 9 arrives on her doorstep in the middle of a rainy night with a business proposition.  Now that his doctors have informed him he has six months to live, he would like to provide Nora and Michael with the six hundred thousand dollars he’s towed with him in an attaché case.  In exchange, he only wants to spend time with his grandson.  Beyond the animosity she’s held for Max, what alarms Nora is that her father stole this money from a Vegas casino.  He claims the mob stole the money from him first.  She doesn’t want the money; not with Brian the police officer in her life and she does not want to be affiliated with Max’ criminal past or associations.  Not to mention there would no way to explain this sudden windfall based on her minimal teacher’s salary.  Max won’t go away so easily, though.

Thus, the theme of Max Dugan Returns is one scene after another where a hoard of luxurious items arrive on the McPhee’s doorstep.  New appliances, new jewelry, new furnishings, fresh groceries, electronics for Michael, a Mercedes, and a thoroughbred dog named Pluto – I’m sorry.  Plato!

It’s impossible not to love this movie.  It is one of the few films that Neil Simon wrote directly for the screen.  It is so much fun though, that I think it would work marvelously as a stage play.  The story may not be grounded in reality, but Simon’s dialogue is so quick and sharp and a better cast could not be found to deliver Neil Simon’s wit.

Mason, Robards, Broderick and Sutherland have pitch perfect chemistry with one another.  These actors are so absorbed in their characters, and it makes sense.  Matthew Broderick was personally selected by Neil Simon to do his biographical play, Brighton Beach Memoirs.  Marsha Mason did five of Simon’s adapted films while she was married to him.  (They divorced shortly after the release of this picture in 1983.)  Jason Robards has an affectionate gravel to his voice – one of the best voices in film next to James Earl Jones. Robards is just so appealing as he playfully conflicts with Mason on screen while connecting with Broderick’s character under a different identity.  It’s important Max maintains a low profile.  Donald Sutherland is the straightest character in the picture.  He has a relaxed manner to him that’s found often in Neil Simon’s scripts (unless you’re a Nora McPhee or a Felix Unger).  In another actor’s hands, this would be just a walk on role, but with Sutherland on screen, you are satisfied to watch another winning performance from this actor with a relaxed stature and a genteel way about him, as his detective suits and ties hang loose on his shoulders.

Max Dugan Returns is an enchanting fantasy without the overt fantasy.  It never needed unicorns or lovable elves to deliver its magic and whimsy.  I did notice a collection of rainbows –  easter eggs hiding in plain sight, however.  Are pots of gold to be uncovered? The film asks what would happen if your long-lost father showed up on your doorstep with a suitcase full of money and a treasure trove of gifts to bestow upon you. 

Hey, it could only happen in the movies.

THE EQUALIZER

By Marc S. Sanders

I guess Liam Neeson and Gerard Butler were unavailable when Antoine Fuqua and Denzel Washington collaborated to make the first installment of The Equalizer trilogy, based on the CBS television series that starred Edward Woodward.  This film is nothing special with a nothing special kind of script, a nothing special hero and a nothing special collection of Russian Mafia villains.  The kills are nothing special either.  The action is nothing special.  The explosions are nothing special, even when they are started by a trip wired microwave.

Robert McCall (Washington) lives a quiet life by himself, while working at a jumbo home improvement store (think Home Depot or Lowes – big places for lots of not so special action to take place at the conclusion of a not so special movie).  Turns out McCall, who also lives with OCD, is a retired special ops commando.  Robert uses his down time to read one of a hundred books that should be read before you die, while sitting quietly in a coffee shop each night.  He also volunteers his assistance with getting people to improve their lives.  A plump co-worker named Ralphie (the go to name for fat guys) played by Johnny Skortis is on Robert’s strict diet regimen to lose enough weight so that he can be promoted to the store’s security guard position.  Skortis occupies the best and most interesting character in The Equalizer.  During the final action sequence, it’s what Ralphie does that earned my one cheer during the course of the picture.

Robert also becomes acquainted with a young lady named Teri (Chloë Grace Moretz) who has aspirations of becoming a singer but is weighed down by her call girl commitments to members of the Russian mob.  When Robert sees that Teri has been beaten and is in serious trouble, he doesn’t wait to be asked for help.  He just does what is necessary to even the score.

That about does it for The Equalizer. 

No.  Seriously.  That’s all there is to it.  And so I’m very disappointed. 

First, Denzel Washington does not even look like he’s trying.  His demeanor to this character is no different than what he did in the lousy Man On Fire, directed by Tony Scott.  The script to this film is not challenging in the slightest.  Like Man On Fire, The Equalizer is simply a series of scenes where Robert torments his villains.  David Harbor is a corrupt Boston cop who gets trapped in his own car, while Robert runs a garden hose from the exhaust pipe to the inside with the engine running.  Where is the entertainment in this?  Washington sits in a chair while he mechanically opens and closes the car window and Harbor gasps for breath.  McCall is inventive with his methods but it does not lend to any story progression or character depth.  I guess Robert McCall is an artiste – one who specializes in torment, torture and death.

The climactic showdown, within the store, is a great set up for some tête-à-tête methodology to happen, but all of it is executed with little interest.  Here’s where I asked myself a question.  McCall nabs a guy in a makeshift kind of bear trap down aisle 10 (I guess).  The thug gets his neck caught in a barb wire noose and up he goes to the second level of pallet platforms for McCall to stare the guy down while the blood squirts out from his throat.  There’s four or five heavily armed other guys roaming the store, but McCall can take a break to stare this guy down for his last breaths.  If this trap works so well with this one guy, then why not set up six or seven more of these MacGyver contraptions and let each machine gun toting baddie go through the same routine?  I know.  I know.  Miguel would respond, “because then there would be no movie!”  Yet, what does that say about The Equalizer that my mind drifts to this idea?

Later in the sequence, McCall easily walks up to another thug from behind and delivers a power drill to the back of his head.  Then he puts the drill back on the shelf.  Again, if this worked so efficiently and covertly, why not just do it again? And what is so exciting about a power drill anyway if Jason Vorhees isn’t using it?

A nail gun is used a few minutes later and Fuqua opts to just have Washington shoot one nail after another into his opponent.  Bang – Nail – Cock! Bang – Nail – Cock!  There’s no pun or one liner.  There’s just a bad guy who falls to one knee, then an arm goes down.  The machine gun lets off a few rounds and drops to the floor. There goes the other knee and then he’s dead.  Washington just observes the guy die while the sprinkler system drenches him stylistically in slow motion. 

I look at The Equalizer and I think back to the ‘80s actioners from Schwarzenegger, Van Damme, Stallone (some of them), Jackie Chan and even Seagal.  The Rock had fun with a few of these action pieces too.  Go check out The Rundown.  There was a pizzaz to the hero’s methodologies back then.  It wasn’t just a brutal killing and bloodletting.  A one liner accompanied the kills.  It made you cheer and applaud.  Those pictures worked like symphonies of dialogue and ultra cool action that John Wayne never accomplished.  Robert McCall is boring.  Just boring.  An absolute bore.

The villain of this effortless piece is also boring.  Marton Csokas did not advance his career with the lack of anything beyond his Russian dialect and three-piece suits used in this picture. 

Antoine Fuqua has yet to wow me.  Though I know he’s an accomplished director, Training Day always feels like it comes up short with the three or four times I’ve watched it looking for its merits. The critically poor procedural of The Equalizer only lessens his promise for growth and potential.

Denzel Washington has resorted to uninspired characters a few times now. He still earns accolades with pictures like the recent The Tragedy Of Macbeth (a Best Actor nomination) and on stage (I was in the third-row orchestra when I saw him do a forty five minute monologue in The Iceman Cometh on Broadway.  Amazing!).  Still, he just recently completed the third installment of the Equalizer series. Ugh!  Why?  Why Denzel?  Why are you trying to be another past his prime, tired Liam Neeson in these cheapo action pictures?

What I wouldn’t give for another Crimson Tide kind of thriller.

SLAP SHOT

By Marc S. Sanders

Slap Shot is to hockey what Caddyshack is to golf.  It is rude, crude and unapologetically harsh in its language, its temperament and with the memorable fraternal trio known as the Hanson brothers unforgiving with punches, slugs, checks and body slams.  The wardrobe looks dated (some of the ugliest plaids you have ever seen) and it was produced during a time when hockey players could opt not to wear helmets but it is still outrageously funny.  Best of all, Paul Newman, the guy from more upscale, sophisticated fare like Cat On A Hot Tin Roof, The Hustler, and Hud, leads the cast.  Some of the best actors are also the best comedians.  (Look at Robert DeNiro, Donald Sutherland and Clint Eastwood as well.)

The Charlestown Chiefs are the worst hockey team in the Federal League.  When the local Pennsylvania mill has announced that it is closing, it does not look good for the team as attendance will drop lower than what it already is.  The coach and oldest teammate, Reggie Dunlop (Newman), reaches for a few last-ditch efforts to elevate a demand and an appreciation for the Chiefs. 

First, he turns to reporter pal Dickie Dunn (M Emmet Walsh) and drops a made-up rumor that a Florida retirement community is interested in buying and relocating the team down south.  Then, it dawns upon him to antagonize opposing players which will lead into a series of goon fights.  His three newest recruits, the four eyed Hanson Brothers work best at bloodshed.  The enhanced violence lead to wins and suddenly the Chiefs have a new fan base that follows them on the road and sells out their home games.  Only one player, Ned Braden (Michael Ontkean) is against this new approach.  He’s college educated with a love for the game and refuses to stoop to Reggie’s level. A side story has Ned struggling with his marriage falling apart with his alcoholic wife (Lindsay Crouse).

In the meantime, as the rumor of the buyout stays alive, Reggie does his best to find who exactly owns the team.  He wants to convince that party to keep the organization running. 

Paul Newman owns this film despite a collection of fantastic characters that embody the team.  There’s the French-Canadian goalie who is not sharp at delivering proper English.  Killer Carlson (Jerry Houser) quickly develops a knack for being more of goon than a hockey guard. The team’s manager played by Strother Martin (a regular mainstay co-star in a series of Newman films) has to get the team to catwalk model the latest in fashionwear furs, and there’s Francine (Jennifer Warren).  She’s Reggie’s ex-wife, who still shares a thing with him but will not recommit while he continues to play hockey.

George Roy Hill (The Sting, Butch Cassidy And The Sundance Kid) is the unlikeliest of directors for a foul-mouthed film like this and just knowing that seems to make Slap Shot all the more rebellious and appealing for repeat views.  It’s as if Newman and Hill decided to lift their veil of innocence and join the ranks of the worst obscene.  These guys just said “Aw fuck it.  Let’s make the movie.”  I smile each time a sharp guy like Paul Newman delivers an F bomb.  It’s shocking, but it also works so perfectly.  Hockey is anything but delicate fare.

There are dozens of fight scenes in Slap Shot and normally I might claim exhaustion with its repetitiveness.  Thanks to Hill’s direction, every check or punch or wallop is caught differently.  No one is safe; the fans, the radio announcer, the referees, the organ player, the players.  All of them are in the line of fire of a puck or a punch.  While it should, none of what you see ever looks the same.  So, every contact in this contact sport brings one more laugh after another.  Absolutely hilarious!

The Hanson trio (played by real life hockey players – Jeff and Steve Carlson, David Hanson) became a pop culture sensation in cinema with the release of this film.  The image of these three goons, who look like nerds playing with racing car toys, is as uniquely identifiable as Arnold Schwarzenegger in his Terminator get up.  You can never forget the Hanson Brothers.

Screenwriter Nancy Dowd came up with the idea for Slap Shot after listening to her brother’s experiences of being on a minor league team.  Most of the characters she developed were based on actual players that Ned Dowd played with or against. 

I always like when a movie can teach me how an industry works.  With Slap Shot, as slapstick and raggedy as the material proudly is, there’s a mentality to witness and realize.  These guys are literally this brazen, crude and unrepentant, but like Newman’s character Reggie, they’re not stupid or unlikeable either. 

The conclusion of the picture is the championship game. It works because it performs against the grain of what the characters did to get to this point in the story.  The first period break in the locker room is hilarious with Strother Martin going off the rails while Paul Newman is muttering hilariously in the background.   What eventually sends this final game into the stratosphere is unexpected and hilarious. 

Slap Shot triumphs because it was never careful in its comedy.  It’s obscene, prejudiced by today’s standards and yet I do not believe most audience demographics would be offended because there’s an understanding in what it means to be a goon on a hockey team. 

Slap Shot may be a movie of its time from nearly fifty years ago, but it still holds up with big laughs and hilarious set ups. If I need to be more formal in my praise, it’s one hysterical fucking movie with a great fucking script.

Now cue the National Anthem because I’M LISTENING TO THE FUCKING SONG!!!!!

ARTHUR THE KING

By Marc S. Sanders

I cannot stand to watch dogs in peril.  It guts me right in the feels and stays with me long after.  I only saw the movie Single White Female once, when it was in theaters, and I still remember that puppy’s horrifying demise.  Terrible. Just awful.

On the other hand, when a dog is the companion or the factor of good fortune needed for the cast of human characters, I’m going to be won over.  Arthur The King has a shaggy mutt that you absolutely fall in love with, but I don’t think its all schmaltz, because the dog who portrays the title character is not the only storyline to follow.

Mark Wahlberg is Michael, who leads a team of four endurance adventurer racers.  He has the odds stacked against him.  He’s a well-known racer within the circuit but not for the right reasons.  The teams he’s led usually place in the top ten at the finish line, but Michael has never made it to first place.  Not once.  On social media, he’s mocked as the guy who comes up short.  His father (Paul Guilfoyle) is not very encouraging either.  As well, the window of opportunity to show himself as a champion is dwindling as he’s getting up in years.  Still, Michael is confident he has one more race left in him, but he’s granted very little sponsorship money and given a lot less time to train and prepare than he and his team are accustomed to.

Joining Michael in the competition is Olivia (Nathalie Emmanuel) who is an expert climber on any terrain.  She is reluctantly joining the team at the urging of her terminally ill father.  There’s also Chik (Ali Suliman) who serves as the navigator during the race looking for alternative routes and detours off the path that will put the team ahead of others.  Lastly, there is Leo (Simu Liu).  He is the vain Instagram celebrity with thousands of followers and a huge chip on his shoulder that tests Michael’s instincts because Leo has usually been right in the past.  Michael always made the foolhardy option to ignore Leo’s concerns and thus got stuck in the mud, missing another first-place opportunity.

The homeless, neglected dog in the picture initially follows a parallel story within the streets of the Dominican Republic.  Living off scraps with damp, dirty fur, he roams from place to place, being chased and bullied by other alley dogs.

Director Simon Cellan Jones goes for a documentary approach to the endurance racing.  Bylines and GPS maps cut into the picture showing the team’s progress and where they stand in the rankings.  Sometimes there are voiceover commentaries.  It’s efficient information that allows the audience to keep up with the team’s progress as the flow of the film moves at a brisk pace.

We see the team of four run, bike, kayak, climb, stop for breaks, and debate their next options.  Challenges arrive where a large rock must be climbed.  Heavy rain weighs upon their progress.  Snakes are encountered.  Swamp conditions must be overcome.  A thrilling zip line sequence will have you sitting up in your chair.  The footage in this scene is amazing to look at from the enormous height over a bottomless jungle chasm.  It’s certainly dramatic.  Because the film does not rely on the standard suspense music you might find in other sports films, it performs like a documentary with the director’s well positioned camera work and the unexpected reactions of the cast.

At a rest stop the dog captures Michael’s attention.  Some scritches and scratches along with a few meatball treats and then the team must move on.  However, the dog seemingly turns up within the dense jungle terrain having followed their trajectory.  Michael can’t help but be fascinated by the stamina of this animal, and thus a connection is made.  Shortly thereafter, Olivia, Chik and even Leo warms up to the fifth team member.

The race goes on.  Michael’s wife and daughter follow the team’s progress from home.  Dehydration sets in.  A twisted knee interferes.  It’s all standard.  Yet, it’s hard not to get caught up in this film.

If you have never been a pet owner, it might be hard to truly relate how an animal can change a person.  It might sound cliché but there’s really no way to describe how unconditional a dog’s love can be, and Arthur The King certainly demonstrates that kind of affection. If that is still not enough for you to swallow, then consider that this film is based on a true story. 

There was a dog named Arthur The King who defied the odds to keep up with an endurance racer named Mikael Lindnord, thereby inspiring the team to push forward and strive to win.  The inspiration of the real-life Arthur established The Arthur Foundation whose ongoing mission is to raise funds to provide resources to help dogs around the world receive better care.

Arthur The King might have mapped out its story as soon as the movie began, but that does not mean it is devoid of genuine emotion.  This film possesses a yearning for adventure and a need to defy doubt and reach for victory while never losing sight of what could be more valuable than a championship.  The main character starts out as a confident endurance racer.  Yet, he’s a new kind of racer with an eye-opening perspective when he meets Arthur The King.

THE RIVER

By Marc S. Sanders

A film like Mark Rydell’s The River only thrives on witnessing the misery of people living with the misery of others.  That’s not to say this is not how ordinary people are often forced to live.  There’s too much suffering in the world.  I can never deny that.  A homeless shelter or a prison are settings of great misfortune, hardship and sadness.  Yet for a movie, sometimes you must ask what the point is, especially when it is apparent that the heroes are destined to lose against the forces of nature while the villain is entirely correct in his own cause.  Sometimes in a no-win situation it is honorable to just give up.  I wish Tom Garvey, the corn farmer, would have just quit being a farmer and sought a better life for his wife Mae and their two young children.

Tom and Mae are played by Mel Gibson and Sissy Spacek.  He is the current generation who owns the Tennessee corn crop farm that his family lineage has passed down.  The first twenty minutes of The River depict the harshness of terrible rainstorms that flood the nearby river and wash away the family’s prized crops and land.  Tom, Mae and the children do everything in their power to recede the water as the rain continues to come down in buckets.  Mae fills up sacks of mud and water with their daughter Beth.  Their son Lewis works with Tom on the beat-up tractor against a never-ending battle of plowing the flood waters away from the land.  There’s no way to overcome this terrible plague of weather that comes at least twice every year.  As I watch the sopping wet struggle that opens the picture in the middle of a stormy night, shot very well by Rydell and his crew, I already ask myself what’s the point?  Get out of this situation Tom!!!!! Take up babysitting, tutor, become a fireman, go back to school.  Relocate for heaven’s sakes!!!!

What recuses the Garvey family and the farm, one more time, is when the rain finally stops.

Scott Glenn is Joe Wade.  He is a wealthy industrialist, who also grew up in these parts under a family legacy.  Joe is on the good side of the state politicians and is aggressive in buying out the farmers’ land so that he can flood the valley, build a dam and use the overabundance of water to power the utilities of the area in a more efficient and much less costly way for everyone.  And he’s the villain of the story????????

Joe makes sense.  Tom’s passion for holding on to what his family has owned does not.  I get the idea of grasping on to family heirlooms like my grandfather’s watch that he maybe kept hidden in an uncomfortable orifice while being held captive by the Nazis, or the prized jewel that survived a shipwreck generations ago.  I also understand the desire to carry the torch of the harsh labor a father and a father before endured and died for while allowing a farm to thrive.  Yet, there are children to feed and debts to pay. The ruin that comes from the acts of God do not empathize.  Therefore, I say again, sometimes the bravest and most sensible thing a person can do is actually quit.

Tom, along with most of the neighboring farmers, are adamant about not selling their land to Joe.  When auctions occur to sell off the equipment and leftover supplies of the few that do surrender, it is practically considered a gross violation of a sacred code in these parts.  I look at the stubborn folks who frown upon their peers as terribly disrespectful.  The script is expecting me to empathize with Tom and those who stand with him though. 

Midway through, The River takes a detour as Tom leaves to do hard labor elsewhere to earn much needed cash.  This is where misery does not love company.   He is one of many men selected to do factory work as an inexpensive replacement for the union workers on strike.  Tom, along with the other recruits, are threatened, called scabs, and in a glaring scene spit directly in the face.  A fellow worker is beat up in the middle of the night.  All of this is powerful footage and yet who am I supposed to empathize with?  These workers on strike are demanding better benefits and rights.  A guy like Tom, who values the survival of the Garvey farm, interferes in someone else’s just cause for his own welfare. 

I think about films like Schindler’s List and even The Lord Of The Rings fantasies and I witness the hardships and suffering of a collective people.  Those stories never expect me to value the misery of a select few over others.  I take stock in a whole populace.  In Mark Rydell’s film, however, I feel like I’m only asked to cry for Tom Garvey’s relief, the stubborn father who is defiant for an unlikely future of promise for the area he occupies while also ignoring the welfare of his family against the forces of nature.  Joe is offering Tom and Mae hundreds of thousands of dollars for their land so that he can enhance the state.  Joe’s bounty will rescue the family from insurmountable debt and the unforgiving floods that repeatedly destroy their crops.  Still, I’m supposed to believe that Joe is the asshole.

Sissy Spacek was nominated for Best Actress for her performance.  She competed against Sally Field (who won) and Jessica Lange.  Both were ironically featured in their own “farm life films” in 1984.  Spacek remains one of Hollywood’s finest actors.  However, I did not think there was much for her to do here.  A drawn-out sequence has Mae caught under a tractor with a nasty wound while the blistering heat bears down with no one around to help.  It has its moment of suspense because this film could go in many different directions of tragedy, but a development like this is more circumstantial than performance based.  If Katherine Hepburn or Laurence Olivier were under that tractor, the scene would not play out much differently.  It’s just a standard farmer accident destined to be included in a standard farmer picture.

The possibility of a love triangle is also implied during the film.  As soon as I saw the opening credits (Sissy Spacek, Mel Gibson, Scott Glenn), I hoped against all hope that the story would not go there, and yet…

Having hardly even used a rake or a shovel, I know that farming is a grueling life and still so necessary for our world consumption to survive.  The River attempts to demonstrate this message. I empathize with people like Tom.  I really do.  However, I empathize with the sacrifice they may need to take, not with their with their foolhardy stubbornness or their intrusion upon others’ challenges for gain.  If a doctor told me that no matter what efforts he performs he will not be able to save my arm or my leg, I’m going to have to believe him and accept that the limb must be amputated.  If an overflowing river and an unbearably long rainstorm affects my home, my farm, my family and my livelihood at least twice a year, eventually I’m going to come to my senses and tell myself that the bad guy is probably right. 

Contrary to the well-known slogan, sometimes money is everything.

MAGNUM FORCE

By Marc S. Sanders

If you don’t know by now, I’m a huge admirer of Clint Eastwood’s work. His talents broach so many facets.  He acts.  He produces. He’s likely even better when he’s in the director’s chair.  He actually sings and he has even orchestrated his own music for some of his films.  Ever since I was first introduced to him at a young age when he played Dirty Harry Callahan and Fido Beddo, partnered with Clyde the orangutan, I was fascinated by his coolness and confidence in his stature on screen.  Whether he’s raising a fist, donning a scowl, giving a smirk or a squint of his narrow eyes or using his most famous prop, a .44 Magnum handgun, as an extension of his right arm, I’ve always been magnetically drawn to what he does on screen.

Online, a common question is asked: What is your favorite Clint Eastwood movie?  If I have to choose one, I guess it would have to be Magnum Force, the follow up to Dirty Harry.  Yet, I always believed Magnum Force could not operate without hitching on to the impact and message from Dirty Harry.  I can’t just like The Godfather Part II without liking the first film.  I can’t just love The Empire Strikes Back without liking its box office predecessor.  Same goes for The Lord Of The Rings pictures.

Magnum Force works so well because it questions what celebrated the Harry Callahan character that Eastwood portrayed two years prior.  This is a San Fransisco cop who defies authority when he knows that a danger must be suppressed without the inconvenience of bureaucratic red tape and police procedurals that ultimately will work in the criminals’ favor if not taken care of immediately.  As the first film demonstrated, it is easy for us to side with Harry’s desperation because we know the crazed killer is on the loose and he is only going to kill again and again while never surrendering or negotiating.  This second follow up film (in a series of five) tests the ideology of Eastwood’s character. 

A series of grisly murders are occurring within the city and it appears that a traffic cop is committing the acts.  The victims are the worst mobsters and pimps within San Fransisco who time and again have been overlooked for their crimes and/or have been released from trial or prisons based on technicalities.  A handful of characters within Magnum Force remind us that someone is saving the taxpayers a lot of money each time the body count increases. 

There’s a slight mystery to this film.  Harry encounters four rookie cops (David Soul, Robert Urich, Kip Niven and Tim Matheson) who seem very likable.  They are admirable of Harry’s reputation.  Harry is impressed by their shooting skills in particular.  Another traffic cop is an old friend of Harry’s, a guy named Charlie McCoy (Mitchell Ryan) who is on the edge and might pose a threat if he continues working the streets.  Any of these men could be suspects to these vigilante murders as it is soon realized that the scene of some of these crimes are similar. Often, cars are pulled over for traffic violations.  As well, ballistics indicate that the weapons of choice are normally a .357 Magnum, the standard issued firearm for a police officer.

The debate with Harry’s philosophy, firmly established in the prior film, is staged against that of his superior, Lt. Briggs.  He’s played by Hal Holbrook who is one of the best antagonists in all of Eastwood’s films.  They play so well against one another.  Early on, Briggs declares he’s never once had to pull his gun out of his holster.  Callahan sarcastically salutes the lieutenant by reminding him that men have got to know their limitations and that’s where the measure of asking what is ultimately necessary in fighting crime.  Where does it begin and when does it end?

Harry Callahan is that unusual cop who is frowned upon for the actions he takes in his own hands.  Other cops in movies played by Stallone or Gibson go to extreme measures simply for the cinematic action of it all.  Callahan is never thanked or given any serious commendations for what he executes with his .44 Magnum, a weapon that is as outside the lines as Harry himself. 

The difference between Harry and whoever this vigilante is must be deciphered and much of Magnum Force’s grey area is all that is seen.  Eventually, the black vs white clarity reveals itself and a telling lesson presents itself between what Harry Callahan stands for and what guise a vigilante operates under.  At the risk of revealing too much, the best scene of the picture occurs between Holbrook and Eastwood’s characters as they sum up the entirety of the film before the climax.  This film is over fifty years old and still the assortment of mindsets found within Magnum Force are worth pondering. Callahan is put to the test one time before in a haunting parking garage.

Beyond what’s worth considering among these many dangerous philosophies, this is a solid action picture with thrilling and well edited shoot outs among the cops and robbers.  A hilarious plane hijacking is derailed by Harry when he poses as a pilot.  Later there’s a store robbery that is undone and then there is a warehouse port exchange of gunfire that puts Harry and his partner in unexpected danger. 

There is an interesting target competition between the cops that implies what Harry suspects.  I like this scene in particular because it gives an inside look into how police officers interact and admire one another when not on the streets.  Yet, when one particular cop cannot get a thought out of his mind, it carries over into the action of the moment.  At the combat range, Harry fires his gun at one particular target that may cause you to sit up in your chair a little.  Often, Eastwood performs with little to no dialogue in his films and this is one very informative moment.

As much as I’m a big fan of Magnum Force, the penultimate scene always sticks in my craw a little.  Callahan is pursued on foot within the bulk of a freighter.  There is very little light provided in this sequence as Harry moves down one corridor or around a corner elsewhere.  It’s hard to see what is happening and who is where or who I am looking at.  For such a thrilling movie, this is a bit of a letdown as overall much of the action of this movie is driven by the plot.  Nothing feels random in Magnum Force.  Everything moves towards more story development or realizations.  Yet, I have to be somewhat forgiving only because this darkened scene occurs after all of the cards are put on the table and all the hero has to do is survive.

Just before the foot chase, there is a thrilling car chase with Eastwood actually doing the driving that takes us through the well-known twists of Lombard Street.  Director Ted Post wisely covers this from an overhead shot.   The car careens up and down the steep slopes of San Fransisco’s avenues and there are plenty of intense close ups of Eastwood behind the wheel accompanied by the screeching tires, bullets bouncing off the windshield and motors humming.  I have declared it before, the best place to have a car chase is in San Fransisco.  Surprisingly, this pursuit hardly ever gets categorized with the great ones like Bullitt, The French Connection, Ronin or The Seven Ups.

If you have never seen Magnum Force, check it out.  It is off color at times, but the exploits of Harry Callahan and the scum he’s forced to associate with were never about political correctness.  Still, there is much to debate, argue, and lend some serious thought to, especially in a newly unsteady climate of police acceptance and procedure.  My one recommendation though is to watch it as a double feature with the original Dirty Harry to truly see the two sides of Harry Callahan’s coin. 

NOTE: An interesting fact I just realized at the end of Dirty Harry, the cop shoots the bad guy with his right hand.  Later, he tosses his badge, but with his left hand.  Especially with Magnum Force as a follow up film, I see the internal struggle of Harry Callahan pitting his gun up against the mindsets that come with his badge.

THE SCORE

By Marc S. Sanders

Nothing like a good heist thriller.  Am I right? 

It is hard to believe that Marlon Brando’s final performance was with Robert DeNiro and yet the two were never part of the same cast before.  Finally, though, the Oscar winning actors, who were both recognized for portraying Vito Corleone, teamed up for a little film that contained some daring thrills while also welcoming some crackling good acting scenes together.  Edward Norton joined them, and it worked sensationally.  The Score, directed by Frank Oz, is a forgotten gem, or in this case as priceless as the gold and jeweled scepter the three set their sights upon stealing.

Filmed on location in Montreal, DeNiro portrays Nick, a professional thief who is very disciplined in his work and would never dare commit a heist in his own town where he publicly operates as a jazz nightclub owner.  As the opening scene suggests, he only practices outside of his city and usually outside of Canada.  Yet, a brash cocky kid named Jack (Norton) enters his private life with a proposition too good to pass up.  DeNiro’s handler/investor, Max (Brando), urges Nick to overcome his reluctance and team up with Jack for one last score that’ll rake in thirty million dollars. Once the job is done, six million is earmarked for Nick.  Finally, Nick can get out of this business and move on with his nightclub mortgage paid off.  He can also get more serious with his stewardess girlfriend Diane (Angela Bassett). 

The MacGuffin?  A scepter from the 1600s that was crafted for French royalty.  It is currently locked in a state of the art safe located within the basement of the Montreal Customs Building.  This fortress is equipped with cameras, security guards, sensors, you name it.  Jack is working on the inside, posing as a mentally challenged maintenance man.  He supplies all the intel to Nick with ways to get inside showing him who is doing what, where and how.  Nick then prepares the strategy around what information is collected.

The shakedown of The Score is nothing unfamiliar.  The enjoyment comes from the acting scenes between the actors, especially when it is DeNiro and Brando.  It is as thankful to see these two legends perform on screen as it was to see DeNiro team up with Al Pacino in Michael Mann’s Heat.  This older interpretation of Brando is so entertaining.  He has a lot of fun with Max’ sarcasm and when he curses it just comes so naturally.  Just a huge departure from what the actor did in classics like Streetcar and On The Waterfront.  DeNiro is great at chastising Brando’s character with the risks he’s taking at getting them in trouble.  Their dialogue works beautifully with their performances.

Same goes for DeNiro and Norton.  It’s not so much a mentor/student relationship.  Right from the start, there is friction. Nick is overly cautious while Jack is anything but.  Yet, the film primarily focuses on the thieves’ preparation for the big job and the characters speak as if there is a trust or honor among them, but the skepticism remains.  Often Jack is defiant of Nick’s specific instructions.  Norton is great going at odds with DeNiro.

Once the wheels are set in motion, the pattern of the script is to introduce one unexpected obstacle after another.  At one point the men realize they need a particular access code.  So, an exchange in a public park has to take place. Against Nick’s wishes, Jack plays a potentially dangerous game.  Later, it is learned that the scepter might be moving on from Montreal.  So, the job has to be completed much sooner than planned.  Max seems to be hiding some details as well that leave Nick uneasy.  By the time all these bridges are crossed you have a solid foundation for the first two acts of the film before the heist gets going.  It’s all good stuff.  The epilogue to the picture is very satisfying as well with a couple of unexpected twists thrown in.  When a bag gets unzipped, you’ll likely be nodding your head and applauding.

Edward Norton is a fantastic character actor (when he’s not being a straight lead in other films).  Just like in films such as The Incredible Hulk, Fight Club and especially his debut Oscar nominated performance, Primal Fear, he dons a dual personality for this role.  Norton easily contorts his physicality to portray “Brian” the guy who’s working on the inside of the Customs Building.  When the persona is shed though, Jack is a guy that most need to be careful to trust or go up against.  Edward Norton demonstrates such ease with the transitions from one personality to the other. 

Angela Bassett is terrific actor, but her character belongs in another movie.  The one shortcoming is that Bassett feels more like a prop for DeNiro’s motivation rather than a fully-fledged love interest.  Out of context, the scenes they share are really impressive, but within the framework of the picture, Bassett comes off as an inconvenient detour.  It’s not her fault.  The relationship between Nick and Diane just does not seem to belong here.  I never had any urge for their happily ever after wrap up.  I was only concerned with Nick, Jack and Max pulling off the score.

Another minor shortcoming is Howard Shore’s soundtrack for the film.  It plays with loud horns that scream official action.  Yet, when the scenes are absent of music or only accompanied by soft jazz performances from Mose Allison and Cassandra Wilson does The Score feel like it is in its quiet mood comfort zone.  Howard Shore’s louder pitch just feels a little too intrusive here because these guys operate in whispers and clandestine actions.  I especially get a kick out of how Nick and Jack use their special tools that quietly click and turn and thump with no other sound in the area.  Their hardware work like musical instruments. 

Overall, this is a delicious, sophisticated thriller with an outstanding cast and Frank Oz’ direction thankfully does not get too inventive because he knows he’s assembled an A plus collection of actors.  Oz also has the art design and scenic details within Montreal working to his advantage. The locales are peppered in with a welcome French culture along the cobblestone streets.  DeNiro and Brando seem very comfortable and absorbed in this city that’s rarely used as a backdrop in film. Lastly, the procedure of the actual theft at play is a lot of fun to watch as it all seems plausible but still impressively crafty.

It’s worth your risk to check out The Score on a Friday or Saturday night when you need to get away from the chaos of everyday life.  It’s a quiet, relaxed suspense yarn that’s so very pleasing.

NOTE: If you have not seen the film yet, I encourage you to stay away from the trailer which can be found online.  I believe too many of the twists and surprises contained within the movie are revealed simply to bait an audience.  The less you know about what happens, the more satisfying the picture is.

FURIOSA: A MAD MAX SAGA

By Marc S. Sanders

George Miller has never gone deep with his Mad Max movies.  The director treasures the inventions of his auto chases and the tricked out diesel junk contraptions that participate in high speed pursuits through his apocalyptic desert wasteland.  The more outrageous the vehicles and the crazier the stunts are, the more fulfilled Miller appears to be with his filmmaking.  However, the fifth film within this gonzo world of barbaric S & M dressed drivers invites us to explore the past of a surprisingly treasured character,  introduced in the prior film.  Her name is Furiosa and this time we see what she experienced as a young child (Alyla Browne), followed by what she learns as a young adult (Anya Taylor- Joy).  This fifth film in the franchise serves as a prequel to the last film, Mad Max: Fury Road.

As a pre-teen, Furiosa is abducted by the bandits who serve under the pompous and proud Dr. Dementis (Chris Hemsworth, playing his Thor role as if the Marvel character was a celebratory villain). A thrilling prologue covers this sequence of events with rescue efforts from the would-be heroine’s mother to save Furiosa and bring her back to their secret home of green vegetation located beyond the desert plains.  There are heart stopping motorcycle chases with the warrior mother bearing a sniper rifle and fighting with her last breath through the whole sequence.  Charlee Fraser portrays the title character’s mother. Thanks to her performance, she had me convinced me that the rescue will deem successful, accompanied by Miller’s reliable direction.  An absolutely thrilling opening.

Dementis rides his esteemed tri-motorcycle chariot steed, inspired by the sword and sandal adventures of Ben Hur and Gladiator.  A hilarious over the top vehicle to see Chris Hemsworth piloting.  His biker gang is in tow along with young Furiosa as they journey to the Citadel, first seen in Fury Road.  Dementis puts his conceit against that of Immortan Joe (Lachy Hume) the skeleton masked ruler of The Citadel for a chance at…what else?  Conquest and power.

Furiosa grows up a few years and gets mentored by a trucker named Praetorian Jack (Tom Burke).  I still love these character names by the way.  The truck chase is the highlight of the picture, with paragliding motorcycle riders swooping in like large attack birds trying to sabotage the weaponized rig full of delightful surprises that’ll make you shout “OH!!!” in the middle of the theater.  It is sequences like this that audiences adore in the Mad Max pictures. 

Unlike the other films though, Furiosa gets a little lethargic during the story set ups which are angles that never anchored the other better installments, The Road Warrior and Fury Road.  Reintroducing the Immortan Joe character is not as interesting this time and this desert picture gets a little too waterlogged when he enters the story.  He just doesn’t feel very necessary.  The two younger Furiosas and the self absorbed Dementis are plenty with just enough story opportunities to make a solid movie.  Retreading on other characters slow this fifth installment down a bit.

The whole cast looks great.  Anya Taylor-Joy is the best bad ass version of a younger Charlize Theron, who originated the role.  She hardly has any lines but her expressions on camera beneath the war paint, grease, dirt and long hair extensions look awesome.  Though the lead actress is hilariously dwarfed by Hemsworth’s Dementis, they make for a great dichotomy of hero vs villain.  She’s the quiet reserved David.  He’s the proud Goliath.  This is a dream casting pair.

Practical stunts are done once again and George Miller does impressive work with his camera.  His tactics for filming action scenes demonstrate why a Michael Bay normally fails.  Nothing is a quick take edit.  You watch these motorcycle riders and Furiosa hold onto to the bottom of the speeding truck and Miller will circle the camera, with no cuts in the take, so we see what is happening next to both sides of her profile.  The camera will then swoop up to see who’s running and holding on to the top of rig or who is parasailing from a great height while tethered to some kind of buggy vehicle below.  Amazing work.

However, seeing Furiosa on a large Dolby screen, it’s not hard to see a computer enhanced finish applied to the photography.  It’s very glossy and nowhere is it grainy like the very early Mad Max films from over forty years ago.  Yet, as dirty as these vehicles and characters are, the cleanliness of the cinematography sometimes does not clash well with what’s on the screen.  It’s a little distracting honestly and that was a surprise to me considering how perfect Fury Road looks on my 65-inch flat screen at home.  This one looks a little too perfect.  This might be that film where less may have been more.  

The background story work on Furiosa is not a terrible grievance.  The final print of the picture is acceptable.  All of it is definitely worth watching and I hope box office picks up following a sluggish opening weekend because I encourage anyone to see Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga on a big screen first.  I just think George Miller and company may have leaped much further than necessary this time around.