Posts in MOVIE REVIEW
GUEST CRITIC #32: Blue Valentine

by Lafronda Stumn

As busy I get from time to time, I find that I can't see every movie under the sun, leaving my friends and colleagues to fill in the blanks for me. As poetically as I think I wax about movies on this website as a wannabe critic, there are other experts out there. Sometimes, it inspires me to see the movie too and get back to being my circle's go-to movie guy. Sometimes, they save me $9 and you 800+ words of blathering. In a new review series, I'm opening my site to friend submissions for guest movie reviews.

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GUEST CRITIC #31: Clemency

by Lafronda Stumn

As busy I get from time to time, I find that I can't see every movie under the sun, leaving my friends and colleagues to fill in the blanks for me. As poetically as I think I wax about movies on this website as a wannabe critic, there are other experts out there. Sometimes, it inspires me to see the movie too and get back to being my circle's go-to movie guy. Sometimes, they save me $9 and you 800+ words of blathering. In a new review series, I'm opening my site to friend submissions for guest movie reviews.

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MOVIE REVIEW: The One and Only Ivan

Enjoying an easy little movie like Disney’s The One and Only Ivan shouldn’t take qualifiers, but it does. Two in fact. The first is more black-and-white and depends on your trigger pressure about animals in captivity in this mindful post-Harambe and post-Blackfish world. If your personal pull weight is high enough to condone (over tolerate) and enjoy a circus or a zoo operation, you pass round one. If you consider those settings no better than inhumane minstrel shows, that will lose you here. The second qualifier gets more existential.

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MOVIE REVIEW: Endless

For wishful reasons beyond the exploitative ones, people want to believe in ghosts. They would be alright with even the creepiest voyeur version or novelty of that to be real. Why? Because the existence of ghosts would mean there’s something else out there after our inevitable deaths. A tangible afterlife creates massive spiritual implications that stir so many. Molding their fictional clay, movies love plucking that particular heartstring, and the new streaming film Endless follows that convention.

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MOVIE REVIEW: Project Power

Whether it’s initially scribbled on a shitty cocktail napkin in a fog of bong smoke while occupying a disheveled couch or composed neatly on a souped-up MacBook atop a Feng Shui desk in a posh nook of some creative person’s living space, a potent idea can propel a writer’s bender to attempt a screenplay. Netflix’s Project Power has one of those high concepts where the mere thought of it gets you to hear late announcer Don LaFontaine in your head. Putting on his pitch voice, imagine a world where people can gain temporary superpowers from a mere pill. Picture the intriguing implications, suspense, and spectacle and your popcorn starts cooking already.

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MOVIE REVIEW: The Tax Collector

The Tax Collector feels like David Ayer’s 2 Samuel 1:27 moment for his current career. He elevated his settings and craft with Fury. He aimed behind his grasp with Suicide Squad. The “mighty have fallen.” That puts the stung and smeared David Ayer back to Los Angeles in a B-level movie and the three things he appears to be good at: 1) urban criminal underworlds, 2) seedy ethnic flavorings, and 3) spurts of graphic violence. These are his comfortable and dirty roots that brought forth Training Day, Dark Blue, Harsh Times, and End of Watch.

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MOVIE REVIEW: Made in Italy

Actors are often asked by the many curious people fascinated by their work where they find the inspirations for the characters they play. Dropped by talk show hosts and adoring fans alike, it’s a common question, but a welcome open-ended one. The answers are almost always a fascinating blend of intentional craftsmanship and revealed individual quirks. If you know the personal history of Liam Neeson away from his tough and towering screen personas, you will know he, and his son Micheal Richardson, did not have to dig far for their characters in Made in Italy.

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MOVIE REVIEW: Lake Michigan Monster

Every braided shoestring of DIY indie filmmaking on Lake Michigan Monsters swings a proverbial kitchen sink of derring-do flair on the end of it. Editor and animator Mike Cheslik of Netflix’s The Get Down (the MVP of this film) splashes buoyant pacing and endless layers of light visual effects that have creativity and energy to spare. Each sink of eye-popping detail is wielded like a medieval flail used to dispatch dragons of snobbery and doubt. Never ever look down on this class of movie because this is where you find true commitment.

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MOVIE REVIEW: Summerland

Hospitality jokes aside, manners come into play. The wrinkle is when pleasing homeliness mixes with the negative connotation of hospitality. Summerland, the feature film directorial debut of playwright Jessica Swale, emanates pleasantry around a central character who is the rude opposite. No matter how uncouth or ill-tempered Gemma Arterton’s hermetic author Alice behaves, an honorable heart shines through. That’s the narrative oil and water of this nostalgic film.

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MOVIE REVIEW: The Truth

To pull off holding court without reducing matters to the preening or showy variety, the performer must have screen presence. Deneuve, the ageless ingenue, “frigid femme fatale,” and “grandes dame” of French cinema, has wattage for a thousand cameras, even now in her mid-70s. With that stature, compelling shockwaves come at will. The acting awe within The Truth is that Deneuve’s prestige is matched moment-to-moment by Academy Award winner Juliette Binoche, a contemporary, if you will, every bit as powerful as the senior. Their pairing as an estranged mother and daughter in the celebrity world writes cinematic scripture.

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MOVIE REVIEW: Dirt Music

For anyone over the age of five-years-old who doesn’t have “The Gravel Foot” anymore, we know not all natural surfaces are easy and lush. The sensation of each pace toughens and prepares the heels and toes for the next one. Such is life as well. The literal and figurative barefoot steps of the characters from Tim Winton’s celebrated novel have tread over the hard grounds of loss and regret. The developed calluses mix with the ever-present dirt for messy lifestyles. Any songs present croon to that lamentation. Alas, the titular melodies advertised to break down the melodrama blow away weakly with the wind.

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